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#used to fight him in his king era

fursasaida · 4 months

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This article is from 2022, but it came up in the context of Palestine:

Here are some striking passages, relevant to all colonial aftermaths but certainly also to the forms we see Zionist reaction taking at the moment:

Over the decade I lived in South Africa, I became fascinated by this white minority [i.e. the whole white population post-apartheid as a minority in the country], particularly its members who considered themselves progressive. They reminded me of my liberal peers in America, who had an apparently self-assured enthusiasm about the coming of a so-called majority-minority nation. As with white South Africans who had celebrated the end of apartheid, their enthusiasm often belied, just beneath the surface, a striking degree of fear, bewilderment, disillusionment, and dread.

[...]

Yet these progressives’ response to the end of apartheid was ambivalent. Contemplating South Africa after apartheid, an Economist correspondent observed that “the lives of many whites exude sadness.” The phenomenon perplexed him. In so many ways, white life remained more or less untouched, or had even improved. Despite apartheid’s horrors—and the regime’s violence against those who worked to dismantle it—the ANC encouraged an attitude of forgiveness. It left statues of Afrikaner heroes standing and helped institute the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, which granted amnesty to some perpetrators of apartheid-era political crimes.

But as time wore on, even wealthy white South Africans began to radiate a degree of fear and frustration that did not match any simple economic analysis of their situation. A startling number of formerly anti-apartheid white people began to voice bitter criticisms of post-apartheid society. An Afrikaner poet who did prison time under apartheid for aiding the Black-liberation cause wrote an essay denouncing the new Black-led country as “a sewer of betrayed expectations and thievery, fear and unbridled greed.”

What accounted for this disillusionment? Many white South Africans told me that Black forgiveness felt like a slap on the face. By not acting toward you as you acted toward us, we’re showing you up, white South Africans seemed to hear. You’ll owe us a debt of gratitude forever.

The article goes on to discuss:

"Mau Mau anxiety," or the fear among whites of violent repercussions, and how this shows up in reported vs confirmed crime stats - possibly to the point of false memories of home invasion

A sense of irrelevance and alienation among this white population, leading to another anxiety: "do we still belong here?"

The sublimation of this anxiety into self-identification as a marginalized minority group, featuring such incredible statements as "I wanted to fight for Afrikaners, but I came to think of myself as a ‘liberal internationalist,’ not a white racist...I found such inspiration from the struggles of the Catalonians and the Basques. Even Tibet" and "[Martin Luther] King [Jr.] also fought for a people without much political representation … That’s why I consider him one of my most important forebears and heroes,” from a self-declared liberal environmentalist who also thinks Afrikaaners should take back government control because they are "naturally good" at governance

Some discussion of the dynamics underlying these reactions, particularly the fact that "admitting past sins seem[ed] to become harder even as they receded into history," and US parallels

And finally, in closing:

The Afrikaner journalist Rian Malan, who opposed apartheid, has written that, by most measures, its aftermath went better than almost any white person could have imagined. But, as with most white progressives, his experience of post-1994 South Africa has been complicated. [...]

He just couldn’t forgive Black people for forgiving him. Paradoxically, being left undisturbed served as an ever-present reminder of his guilt, of how wrongly he had treated his maid and other Black people under apartheid. “The Bible was right about a thing or two,” he wrote. “It is infinitely worse to receive than to give, especially if … the gift is mercy.”

#south africa #apartheid #colonialism #palestine

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sukunas-wife · 2 months

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baby yuji who is super clingy to his dad and would rather be with him than his mom until mama has to leave to see a relative (or for some reason) and misses her so much that he makes trouble for daddy sukuna

Not sure if I wanted to do Modern day or Heian Era, but I really like the thought of

Yuji clinging to one of Sukuna’s arms while he just goes about his day sighing with a dead look and lifting his arm to bring Yuji to eye level just to make sure he’s still there. So that’s it, Heian Era it is, I’ll need to start adding that to when requests are submitted 🥹

Ryomen Yuji Sukuna loved clinging to his daddy’s side. Something the King of Curses was not used to but grew fond of in the course of days. He’s not a gentle beast and much less a soft man, but the way Yuji would cry when he entered the room, his little hands pushing him away from your chest and reaching out for him? He loved, it made him swell with pride that his son knew he was the one, he was the all powerful one and wanted to be by his side.

Many times you’d walk in on Sukuna speaking aimlessly to Yuji who was laying on his chest, one of Sukuna’s large hands almost covering him entirely. Two arms crossed behind his head, and his forth hands waved around aimlessly accentuating his points. “Hey are you listening brat…” Yuji’s little round eyes kept slowly opening and closing, doing his best to stay awake listening to whatever was happening. He let out a coo before his head fell completely against his dad’s chest and he fell asleep, little fists on his dads chest. Sukuna let out a long sigh, “mm, sleep then.”

Sukuna heard your hushed laugh and he looked at you, standing there in the doorway of your shared room. You quietly made your way over to him sitting beside him and brushing his hair out of his face. He grabbed your wrist, pulling it to his lips, and biting over your pulse point lightly. “Do you want to hold him or should I lay him down?” Sukuna let your hand slip from his before he pulled you down with him, “Leave him with me.”

Time crawled on and soon he was sleeping in the middle of your bed, his little pillow wedged between both your pillow and Sukuna’s. You could bear it but Sukuna was a menace to his own son. He’d bundle him up and throw him on his other side so he could hold you, Yuji would cry and punch his dads back with his little fists and wouldn’t stop until Sukuna would put him back in the middle. You’d smile fondly as Yuji would stand half laying on his Sukuna’s chest, and poking his face. It was funny watching how Yuji would try to touch his extra eyes and Sukuna would just hold him up in the air so he’d kick and laugh. That’s when he’d get his kisses in, and Yuji would fight harder because you were getting his dad’s attention instead of him.

Yuji did love you, he liked to hold your hand and go outside with you, he liked to follow you around and for some reason he always got clingier when you had to use the bathroom, it was “fun” using the restroom and there he was laughing and saying “hehe poopie” He loved sitting with you and drinking milk while you had tea and snacks. He learned your routine and Sukuna became curious one day when he was wrestling him around why he started kicking and trying to break free, “lemme go daddy I gonna go.” He was confused and offended, but curious why was his son running off so suddenly. He followed just to find you there sitting at a tea table outside under the plum blossoms. The soft look on your face was enough to lore Sukuna in to join you, that was until he saw the little hands pop up from behind the table in exaggerated motions like he was storytelling. “Mhmm, so you’re just like him then?” You were talking to Yuji who was exaggerating a story of how he was just wrestling with his father. His other hand was holding a sweet to his mouth where he was laid back on your lap, Sukuna was tempted to leave until you signalled him over. “I need to go to my family home soon. My only sister is getting married and my Father and Mother are requesting everyone to be there.” He sighed, he hated that overgrown village you came from. You didn’t come from a poverty stricken home but you weren’t bathing in lavishness as you were now.

“I’ll see you in 3 weeks. I love you.” Your lips met Sukuna’s in a kiss before Yuji was wedging himself in between both of you, “Bye mommy luf you.” He hugged your leg smiling up at you, you put a hand on his head rubbing his hair before kneeling down to hug him kissing his face all over and he laughed. “I love you too Yu.” Sukuna looked displeased when you finally left your home. Yuji was quick to pull on his hand to take him to wherever, everything was normal while Sukuna went about his business, Yuji lingering around until tea time came.

He got excited and started to run out into the garden where he’d always find you waiting. He stopped, The Plum blossom tree was there… but you weren’t.. no tea, no cake.. no “…mommy?…” the tears welling up in his eyes when he laid on the grass crying where the table would’ve been. Sukuna found him and rolled him over onto his side. He was red from crying, “Why do you cry?” Yuji was sniffling, tears and boogies running down his face. “ere’s no mommy.”

Sukuna sighed, picking him up by the scruff of his shirt, “stop crying she told you bye this morning, remember? She said she was leaving and you didn’t even try to go with her.”

“SHE'S NOT COMING BACK!?” Yuji started screaming and kicking while dangling in the air, “MOOMMMYYYY”

This was how Sukuna spent the rest of the first day. Yuji crying and kicking and fussing because all of a sudden he wanted to be with his mommy.

“…Lord Sukuna, forgive me but don’t you think the young prince should be consoled or at least fed?” It was one of your ladies in waiting who had stayed behind. She had the bravery to talk to Sukuna in a respectful and appropriate way which is why you decided to ask her to stay. You knew if anything happened she’d be the most reliable woman considering she was also older in age.

Sukuna didn’t bother a quick glance, “He’ll be fine, bring him here.”

There he sat holding Yuji and patting his back, “Your mother is coming back Yuji, she wouldn’t abandon you with such ease.” Yuji sniffled holding onto his dads open robes with a tight grip, “she’s comin back?” His little teary eyes moved his heart, “Yes, she’s coming back now you need to eat or you won't be here when she comes back.” Yuji sniffled with a wobbly lip. “Wan noodles” Sukuna huffed hoping he wouldn’t have to eat noodles every day you were gone just to appease the boy, “then you’ll get noodles, but you will eat them all.”

They sat at the large table, Sukuna wasn’t eating but rather watching Yuji. How the boy kept pathetically using his hashi and dropping noodles. Until he gave up and out them down only to use the broth spoon to burn himself with the liquid before spitting it out. Sukuna was amassed but intervened when Yuji threw the spoon down aggravated, “I hate it.”

“What’s wrong now?” “Mommy always helps me with my hashi and blows on my spoon…” he looked up at his father with a desperate pleading look, Sukuna swallowed and pulled Yuji’s chair closer to his side along with his bowl of noodles, “Fine.” Yuji perked up with a little laugh “eheh.”

Yuji was busy the rest of the day following his dad and playing his own little games to remember why he was crying. That was until night time came and you weren’t there to tuck him in. He laid on your side of the bed, it was so cold without you there. There was so much space. He let out silent tears and the occasional sniffle until Sukuna finally came into the room. It was past the time you would lay Yuji down so he expected him to be asleep already. It wasn’t shocking to see him crying considering you would be there with him wrestling him down to bed while he persisted he should be with his daddy. So Sukuna laid down pulling Yuji into his side, Yuji hurried his face against his dads side holding on tight, it made Sukuna’s heart waver in a way, ‘he makes it feel as if she’s dead..’ His hand ran up and down Yuji’s small back, mumbling a story until Yuji fell asleep in his hold.

The next day was just as bad, and so was the third. During the day he was fine, until tea time came along and you weren’t there to receive him, he’d run back crying to his dad, and even when Sukuna ordered to have a tea table set up the way you would it never pleased Yuji, the teapot would just sit there full, getting cold. The sweets weren’t as sweet and the sun wasn’t the same sun that kept him warm while he slept in your lap.

The week passed, and finally one morning Sukuna woke up with Yuji drooling on his arm. He still cried himself to sleep, missing you and calling out for you. He yawned, getting a weird smell and leaned down sniffing before he understood, Yuji was the source of the smell, his smelly brat. Yuji yawned slowly, pushing himself up, and looking around before falling down against his fathers arm to sleep again. Sukuna let him sleep a little longer so he could sleep a little longer also.

Finally it was mid day when he woke up yawning again and then he woke up stretching, his bones popping as he sat up. Yuji let out a yawn/scream while he stretched trying to mimic the sound his father made when he stretched. Sukuna sat there for a minute, “You need a bath.” Yuji looked at his dad in disbelief, “No!”

That’s how Sukuna ended up sitting on a stool, sleeves tied back, watching Yuji pout at him with sad eyes, “T’s cold..” “URAUME BRING HOT WATER DAMN IT” there went Uraume in a rush to keep Lord Sukuna from becoming upset. Sukuna kept scrubbing Yuji down, who kept whining when Sukuna would move his head around to get him cleaned up. Finally Uraume came back with water that was hot enough the young prince wouldn’t complain. “Tank you ‘ume” Yuji didn’t look at Uraume, instead kicking over the cold water bucket from his smaller stool.

Uraume stifled a snicker, “It’ll be a long few weeks Yuji, but you’ll live.” Yuji hummed, swinging his feet, “yeah I know.”

The day passed slowly after Sukuna wrapped Yuji in clean clothes and sat him out under the sun to dry and warm up. He was busy with his devices during the day leaving the boy to follow him around or play with his own things in his room. Night came quickly and it was no surprise to find Yuji in his room passed out on the bed again. Sukuna did his best to gently move him over only for Yuji to wake up and take hold of his arm.

He was woken up in the middle of the night by Yuji crying “don’t leave me too.” He was holding on tight to his chest and crying, snot dripping onto his chest while he tried to calm him down. “What is now?” He was too disoriented to process what was happening until Yuji started crying harder and trying to explain what happened in his dream. His dad left him in the middle of the night saying he was useless and didn’t love him anymore. And that he was leaving like his mother had. Sukuna was confused, but held him close, rubbing his back, “shh shh shh, I’m not leaving, forget your silly little dreams. I've told you before, that as long as I live I will be here with you.” Yuji sniffled, his tears drying up, and he held on tight to his dad, nodding his head forcing his eyes closed.

Which led to Yuji clinging to Sukuna’s arm that morning, and all day. It was funny to see the “King of Curses” With his arms crossed over his chest and Yuji just hanging there. It was a sight when Sukuan was speaking, making hand motions just to see Yuji being shaken around unintentionally with ease.

The only downside to this was that it lasted all week, meaning in battle Sukuna would take a strong hold of Yuji bringing him to eye level or holding him up higher to assure he was there or constantly in line of sight and out of harm's way.

It had been a long two weeks… “what of another week?” Yuji stood on his dad’s back while he laid face down on his bed, “‘m tall.”

The third week passed slowly with a mix of emotions, Yuji still cried for you at night but would fall asleep faster once his dad would start to smother him into his side. Then the day came when Sukuna needed to tend to business but knowing he couldn’t leave Yuji he took him along. It just happened to be within the hour you made it home. You didn’t expect a greeting party but it was best this way, at least you could actually find a way to rest before having to face Sukuna and tell him everything and how your parents were pushing for you to have a wedding ceremony in your family home.

”Lady y/n! You’ve returned,” Your lady in waiting bowed to you, “Lord Sukuna and the Prince just left. Do you require assistance?” You waved her off, “I’d really just like to sit down with a cup of tea please.” She gave you a soft smile as you followed her through the house and outside. Your little tea table was set up, “I knew you would return today I just hadn’t known when, rest and I’ll steep some tea.” She bowed when you nodded with a smile, “Thank you very much.”

You sat on the cushion feeling relief in your feet as you slipped your shoes off. The sun felt warm and comfortable under the plum blossoms, unlike the cursed heat of your family’s home where they refused to have more than just a few trees. The breeze was soothing as you reclined back against the base of the tree. The smile on your face was soft, thinking about your sister’s wedding. It was chaotic, everyone was happy despite the threat of the wedding being cancelled twice. The comments of how you should’ve married someone so you could also have a wedding in your family home, but now you had decided to go off and marry a curse and live secluded. The comments didn’t bother you, rolling your eyes and always answering with crude comments to match their own.

You laughed to yourself shaking your head as your lady in waiting returned. You talked with her sipping tea, until she left you to sit in peace. You sat there for another hour getting ready to get up and wait for your husbands return until you heard the scream “MMmmoommmmyyyy!!!” You saw a glimpse of his teary eyes and snotty nose when he hugged your legs rubbing his face into the bright red fabric of your robes. You looked down at him, rubbing a hand on his back and the other through his hair, “aw, did my little Yuji miss me?” You looked up at Sukuna who looked visibly relieved, you didn’t miss the faint smile on his lips. Looking back at Yuji he was holding his arms up, you squatted to pick him up and he hugged your neck. Laying his head on your shoulder he sniffled when you placed your hand on the back of his head kissing his forehead whispering to him and he smiled, “missed you mommy.” He turned his head quickly burying his face against your shoulder. You didn’t stop rubbing your hand up and down his back while you carried him in. He didn’t move his face from your shoulder after becoming embarrassed when Sukuna began to tell you everything that happened while you were away.

That night Yuji didn’t let you go, he stuck to your side all night wanting to feel you hugging him again. You weren’t away but Sukuna was aware how frequently Yuji would wake up, his little chubby hand reaching up to just graze your face before he’d yawn and curl up against you to sleep again. He wanted to make sure you were really there with them.

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satorugu · 6 months

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In Every Era Part 2 (Sukuna x f!reader)

She is the reincarnation of his love, and he plans to be with her in every era.

PART 1 HERE

Warnings: Blood, violence, fighting, angst, lots of fluff

Note: The readers technique relates to ice and being able to lower the temperatures around her enough to create it. If the text is italicized it is one of the dreams she had. All take place during the Heian era, both Heian era and the version of Sukuna in Itadori's body is included. Takes place during the Shibuya Incident, and quotes the episode's sub at times.

The dreams hadn't stopped.

First, it was that night, the night she fell asleep in his arms.

Then she had another one following it.

Then a third.

It was always a memory from her point of view, so vivid she felt she could still feel his touch when she woke up. They were small, but they got her through the night, always sleeping straight through it.

That kiss was imbued with cursed energy. She didn't know how, but she knew that had something to do with it.

She couldn't take her mind off of it.

Every single night.

"Curses and mutations are mindless, you don't need to harness much cursed energy to exorcise them, although it is made out to be that way," Sukuna said. "If you make a hit on them before they can attack you, you have a better chance at survival."

She was sitting on his lap, up upon his throne. His body heat radiated onto her shoulders, his strong abdomen pressed against her back.

"Is there a reason you're sharing this with me?" (Y/N) asked curiously.

"So you will utilize this information when the time may come my dear," he told her. "Aim for the head."

"I don't think it will ever come," she laughed.

"You are correct to assume that," Sukuna said, putting a hand on her waist and pulling her closer to him. "I won't allow for anyone to harm you."

This was a trick.

The King of Curses wouldn't and couldn't possess emotions like these. He murdered hundreds of thousands, known to be the most powerful sorcerer in history. He needed something from her, to get her to trust him so he could use her and kill her afterward.

These memories were false, she was sure of it.

So she began avoiding Itadori, training after hours and for longer durations to be able to both strengthen herself and not be confronted by the eyes below his. In the end she would return to her dorm exhausted, forgetting that when she fell asleep she would be greeted by what she fled most.

Then a week had turned into a month.

"Master Sukuna had a gift delivered to your dressing room," the maid said almost timidly to (Y/N), as she bowed her head.

She made an emphasis on the fact it was in her dressing room rather than her bedroom. Being that her quarters were Sukuna's, the only part of the palace that was officially hers was her dressing room, which translated to a massive closet. It was filled to the brim with the nicest jewelry available in the lands, along with dresses he had especially picked out for her. It was also a known fact that the garden belonged to (Y/N), although it wasn't claimed by her. She fell in love with the area, so he made it off limits to others.

Unfortunately for her, he was away, handling a nearby village.

Two more servants gathered at the large double doors that led to the dressing room, opening them for her.

Inside was a large bouquet of flowers, white at the tips that slowly faded into a reddish-purple. It was as if they were glowing, vibrant and perky underneath the lighting. The vase was a piece within itself, like clear vines that curled around the stems of the flowers and bunched them all together.

Next to it sat a scroll, bound together by a cursed energy imbued seal. She was quick to unravel it, reading the hand-written, inked message.

'Although I am far away, I will remind you of my love.'

'These flowers are eternal, they will forever stay by your side, just as I will.'

'Sincerely, Ryo.'

She didn't think much of the dream, assuming it was some way of trying to make her think he actually loved her. Instead, she lingered around the campus after hours, honing a new ability with her ice technique. Once she grew sleepy, she returned to her dorm, entering the dark room to see something glowing on her desk.

It was a vibrant and perky flower, with white at the tips that slowly faded into a reddish-purple. While it didn't sit in a vase, it was unnaturally filled with life, acting as a light in pitch black atmosphere.

She thought she was hallucinating, reaching out a hand to pick it up, hoping it would dissolve as soon as she touched it.

The flower sat in her room for a week after that, as she continued to deny the significance behind it.

(Y/N) thought she could get out of having to see Itadori, but it seemed otherwise when another crisis hit.

A large curtain was cast around Shibuya, along with one at Meiji-Jingumae Station. Reports that mutated humans were attacking civillians inside were quick to spread, and both (Y/N) and Itadori were sent to handle it.

"I'll deal with the mutated ones, you search through the station for anymore hostages," she told him quickly, hoping they wouldn't have to interact much.

As soon as the two had met up inside the city, the eyes underneath his own appeared. They felt familiar now, a burning reminder of the dream she had the previous night.

They were in his bedroom, if it even could be called that.

It was larger than the average, with a desk that sat by an extravagant stained glass window, and a large table towards the center. The bed for the two of them sat against the wall, both of them already out of it, yet choosing to stay in one another's company.

Sukuna stood around the table, eyeing a set of scrolls as his wife sat at his desk. The chair was far too big for someone of her size, which he grew to love.

“I want to perform a binding vow between you and I,” he started.

“A binding vow?” (Y/N) asked, having yet to take her eyes off what she was reading.

“A pact bound through Jujutsu, except this one has specific terms accounted with it.”

As the words left his mouth he slipped his hand around her jaw, taking her by surprised as she looked up at him.

"I want to be with you in every era, as you pass, and once you are reincarnated. We will be bound together, it will be destined for you to wed me."

"And it's consequences?" she wondered.

"There are none, this vow is unable to be broken, it will see through that we are meant to be," Sukuna said. "And that you will remain mine."

She wasn't that knowledgeable on binding vows like the one he described, except for the fact it was supposed to leave a mark on your wrist. (Y/N) didn't have one though, so she assumed it was false.

A mutated curse barreled towards her, shards if ice being driven through it's skull as her pink haired friend ran down the hall. She flipped over it's corpse as it fell to the ground, attacking the others before they could make a move on her, and aiming for their heads.

The efficiency behind it was impressive, as she scolded herself internally for doing as the King of Curses had once advised.

And yet she continued for what felt like an hour, going through the motions up until the lights flickered off and she could hear fighting in the lower levels of the station.

Something was off.

(Y/N) jumped down the set of escalators and began running through the station that was almost unrecognizable. She could tell Itadori had fought here, as the remains of his strength imprinted different surfaces.

She was following her gut at that moment, turning down a set of halls until she saw a light bloom at the end of one. She could feel the heat as she got closer, as it formed an orange and yellow blur.

Screams came after the flames.

Two girls who had somehow survived being burnt alive, each coughing and holding onto one another.

As she turned the corner she saw him, Itadori, laying against the wall unconscious. He was littered in cuts, specifically his shoulder which was bleeding out. A special grade curse, Jogo, stood over him, a finger in his hand as he slipped it down the pink haired boy's throat and tilted his head back. She recognized him from the time he fought Gojo, as her eyes lingered over Itadori's figure.

(Y/N) could see the markings on his face.

She thought she might throw up.

"Don't waste my time," the special grade squinted is eyes at the three of them.

He went to lift up his arm and attack, only for it to begin bleeding out in front of him.

"I'll give you one second."

It felt like everything had frozen in place.

Silence in the dark hallway.

"Move."

The special grade fearfully jumped back, now a line of four.

(Y/N) felt her hands tremble, as sweat formed across her forehead and her heartbeat picked up in her ears. They were all that way, as the figure slowly stood up and brushed himself off.

Strength of a different kind than Satoru Gojo.

Overwhelmingly evil.

Fear that even the slightest move could lead to death.

He began to come towards them, as the wounds across his body healed themselves.

As his footsteps grew louder, she felt as if she might pass out.

Then they stopped, and he brushed his hair back in orderly fashion.

"You hold your heads quite high."

That voice.

It felt like there were invisible hands that wrapped around her back, guiding her down to a bowing position without control over her own body. She ended up in the same formation as the other two girls, as a wave brushed over top of the four that would have killed them.

"Did you believe taking one knee was enough?" Sukuna questioned.

The top of Jogo's head was cut off, considering he only kneeled. It was similar to a volcano, purple blood spewing out the top as he bled out.

"The greatest men bow the lowest, or so it goes. I see you value your heads quite lightly."

She could feel him looking down at her, as she stared at the cold floor and begged that whatever this was wasn't real.

She was terrified.

"You brats, I'll start with you," he said. "You wished to speak to me, yes?"

The girl nodded, tears staining the concrete surface below her.

"I'll grant you a fingers worth of audience. Now speak."

"Below us there's a man in monk's robes with a suture across his forehead," the dirty blonde began to say. "Please kill him, please free Geto-sama."

(Y/N) recognized that name, although she thought the man who had it was dead.

"We know the location of one more finger," the girl added. "If you'll kill that man for us, we'll tell you where it is."

"Raise your heads."

(Y/N) still kept hers down, although she could see the two girls raise theirs through her peripheral. It was a moment of relief, as he seemed to have agreed to their terms.

Red.

The head of the brown haired one next to her burst into nothingness, blood coating the other girls face as her corpse fell backward.

(Y/N) felt it splatter onto her uniform, shock pulsating through her veins as terror overrided her senses.

"MIMIKO!" the blonde screamed, shaking the lifeless body next to her.

"Did you think a measly one or two fingers would grant you the right to order me around?" Sukuna asked with amusement in his voice.

It seemed the girl couldn't care less, continuing to scream out her friends name.

"How offensive."

"SUKUNA!" she cried out in anger, slipping out her phone. "DIE!"

As soon as the words left her mouth, it sounded like a blade had cut through something. Similar to the one she heard months ago, when he had saved her.

Then, it sounded like several cuts going at someone at once.

One corpse turned into two, except the blonde had no remains. He killed the both of them without lifting a finger, a copious amount of blood being the only proof.

"You all are desperate," Sukuna turned to Jogo almost knowingly.

(Y/N) felt the invisible hands that once held onto her gently guide her to sit up again, looking at the King of Curses.

"This is the reward for the cursed fingers, come at her," he said, making eye contact with her. "If you manage to land even a single blow on her, I'll work under you all."

"What?" (Y/N) said under her breath, she felt like she couldn't breath.

Jogo slowly looked at her, as if he was making up his mind.

There was no way he was considering this.

"You're true to your word, yes?" he asked Sukuna.

No.

(Y/N) stepped back, like her legs were going to come out from under her at any second.

This was suicide, she couldn't fight him.

"Yes."

Jogos demeaner changed, as Sukuna's hands remained on his pockets and the curse went to face her. He held out his hand, a ball of fire forming within it, as (Y/N) tried to conjure ice in her own.

Again she was airborne.

Too quick for her to react as it all happened at once.

A familiar pair of arms held her bridal style, as she felt herself rest on his chest. It was cold, the fall wind curling around the two as they had fled the building.

He casually dodged them vast amount of fire-charged bullets being sent at him, as he looked down at her.

"Your avoidance has been quite amusing, I see you don't understand yet," Sukuna said, his tone changing into a softer one.

"What have you been doing to me?" she spoke boldly, like a wife would to her husband.

It made him smile, as he leaned on the edge of a building that Jogo shot more bullets at. Soon enough they were inside of it, Sukuna casually walking through a corridor as fire burned around them.

"That's my thank you for ensuring you sleep well?" he spoke teasingly. "I've been restoring your memories, although I knew you would doubt them to the best of your ability."

"They're not real," she mumbled, forgetting what he was capable of.

"And yet how relaxed you are in my hold says otherwise, little one," he said. "Your body reacts naturally to my touch."

(Y/N) opened her mouth to reply but the words never came out, as he jumped through the window of the building and met Jogo's fist. Sukuna was currently holding her securely with one arm, taking up the curse in hand to hand combat. He was quick, catching every single one of Jogo's attempts before holding onto his hand and slicing through his arms with his cleave technique.

The Special Grade was sent flying back, as he shot another beam of fire energy out of his head and (Y/N) watched it blow a whole through a building.

She had never seen a fight like this before.

Sukuna caught up with Jogo, taking his free hand that wasn't carrying her and wrapping it around his cape, throwing him down towards the streets. Smoke emitted from the area that he hit, as he continued to bounce off of it from the force before Sukuna came at him again. This time, he bashed his head into the ground, taking them below the level of the city floor.

She felt the King of Curses abdomen tighten against her side, as he laughed to himself. (Y/N) wasn't looking at him though, as her eyes were on the curse that hadn't landed even a single speck of dust on her.

His free hand slipped underneath her jaw, turning her head to face him.

"Impressed are we?"

Suddenly everything around the two seemed to burst into flames, as the blue skinned curse screamed out and flooded the street with Lava.

This was hell.

Sukuna didn't even react, as a wave of it blanketed over them, yet never touching their skin. He jumped up onto a building that was soon crumbling underneath the hot liquid as well, continuing to dodge without question.

The entire city was on fire, as hands made out of lava held onto two office buildings and lifted them up out of the ground. They surrounded the both of them, Jogo standing on a rooftop in front.

(Y/N) thought she was dead.

Out of pure instinct she took her arm around Sukuna's neck, burying her head into his chest and squinting her eyes closed.

It was only when she heard the sound of the buildings being bashed together, that she realized what she had done. Instead of feeling the impact of her skull being crushed, she felt a delicate kiss be pressed to the top of her head. A large hand then held her hair in a comforting manner, keeping her against him.

"Do you trust me, little one?" he asked her softly, low enough that Jogo couldn't hear.

"Yes."

(Y/N) felt weightless, like she was on one of those amusement park rides that threw you up into the air. Except for the fact that there was no harness, and nothing holding her anymore. Sukuna had thrown her up so far she felt she might touch the clouds, watching his figure dart towards the curse and throw him into a sky scraper.

She could see Jogo come out the other end of it, soaring through the air as Sukuna stood above him. The King of Curses drove his hand into the Special Grades head, sending the two through a roof of another office structure.

Meanwhile (Y/N) began to descend, screaming out and watching as the windows on each level shattered with each level Sukuna shoved him through. She grew anxious as time passed and nothing happened, until the bottom of the building burst out into flames and traveled upwards. She could make out the smaller details of the city now, as she picked up speed in falling and felt the wind course through her clothes. Her best bet was trying to use her ice to impact the fall, although she became distracted by what happened before her.

The building that Jogo had blown up began to form into a ball of fire, and Sukuna was nowhere to be seen.

Or so she thought.

She was trying to conjure up enough cold air around her to form the ice needed to brace her, but knocked into something else, throwing her off guard.

She wasn't surprised when she felt his heartbeat against her side again, but he moved at unregistrable speeds.

Suddenly they were on the ground, in the middle of the street, underneath the meteor Jogo was creating. All of the people around Sukuna froze in place, fear evident in their eyes.

Everyone knew who he was.

"I hereby forbid every person in a 100-meter radius from moving until I say 'now," he started. "And of course, I'll kill anyone who violates that rule."

The silence was horrifying, no one daring to take a step.

"Not yet," he teased.

(Y/N) could feel his hands underneath her weight doing something, as if he was now controlling the ball of fire above them.

"Still not yet."

The ground began to tremble, as it came closer.

"Now."

The sound was overwhelming, as Sukuna brought himself up above it as it crushed everything beneath. He sat down on the meteor, adjusting (Y/N) so she was sitting in his lap, his hands around her waist. Jogo was in front of the two, having yet to turn his back around.

The atmosphere around them was a swirl of orange smoke and broken glass that looked like stars. It floated gently in the air, as more debris from the architecture around them crumbled.

"I've grown tired of this, so I will fight you with your own specialty," he said, allowing for (Y/N) to get up as he stood and faced the Special Grade.

She stepped back, quick to cool the temperatures underneath her feet so she wouldn't burn.

Fire began to emit from his fist, beginning to curl around his figure.

"Arm yourself."

Jogo formed a small sphere of fire in his hand, as Sukuna stretched his own out to form an arrow.

The Special Grade burnt to ashes within a moments notice, while the King of Curses turned around to face the woman behind him.

"Your denial is in vain," he said. "There is nothing I am not capable of, and your death would have already occurred if i wished for it. In your moments of fear you trusted me by instinct, the vow formed between us guiding you to me."

"I don't understand."

"Because you don't want to," he corrected, coming closer to her. "Allow me to show you."

The king lifted her jaw up, taking his hand around the side of her face and kissing her lips.

It felt unworldly, as she slowly returned it and could feel him smiling. Her wrist suddenly tingled, making her to break away to see what caused the sensation.

It was a mark on her wrist, the same one that was on Sukuna's forehead.

"I will love you in every era," he said, taking a step back.

The markings on his face faded, his hair returning to hanging down.

"What happened?" Itadori asked.

She looked into the eyes underneath the original pair, not knowing what to say.

But she understood now.

A/N: I have a part 3 in mind. If you're interested let me know!

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just-jordie-things · 3 months

Text

let the light in - ryomen sukuna

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 10k follower event special! ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

word count: 15.5k warnings: mentions of fighting and injuries, reader has a cursed technique but i don't describe it bc i'm lazy, she's actually pretty weak in this ngl i needed her to be a bit of a damsel in distress. sukuna is pretty out of character but he has to be. also sukuna can take control of yuji's body when he's asleep bc i decided so ok it's my first time writing for him so bare with me. summary: reincarnation!au with a twist. in every life sukuna finds you in, he has to remind you of who you once were- and who you once were to each other. it's a burden, but it's one he's carried for centuries and he wouldn't have it any other way. more info: slowburn enemies to ?? to lovers, sukuna is hopelessly in love with reader its very fun ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[ ooh let the light in // at your back door yelling cause i wanna come in // ooh turn your light on // look at us, you and i back at it again ]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Finding her in this life was the first thing on his mind as soon as his consciousness was manifested. Just like every era before this one, she’s always his first thought.

The second thought was- what the fuck?

In all of his centuries walking this earth, he’d never been quite out of body like this. As in, in a completely different body from his own. And much to his displeasure, he’d manifested inside of some brat jujutsu sorcerer that was a bit too strong for his own good. No worries, though, after they tracked down a few more of his cursed fingers he’d be able to take proper control and Itadori Yuji would cease to exist as soon as Sukuna regained his full strength.

So for some time, he played nice. Or, as nice as he could, that was. He sat back in his domain and waited. He’d never been one with a strong sense of patience- he may have been a man once but he was a curse now- but if it meant strengthening his chances in being reunited with her sooner, then he would play the long game. Besides, he could have some fun torturing the brat and his friends for a little while, right? No harm in some chaos and carnage along the way. He would need good stories to tell her when they were together again, anyways.

There were times where the brat began to wonder what it was Sukuna was doing there, quietly tucked into his domain. On the rare occasion that he didn’t rear his head into conversation with a nasty comment coming from a mouth materialized on his cheek or the back of his hand. Times passed where Yuji would cringe awaiting Sukuna’s inevitable filth, but instead he was gifted with silence from the curse inhabiting him. The young sorcerer could only assume that this meant he was doing something else- but what? What could he possibly occupy himself with while trapped in his own domain? Some days Yuji worried he was plotting something, but others he wondered if the King of Curses was just lost in thought. Did he daydream?

Sukuna wouldn’t call it that, but if anyone were able to catch him in the act, they’d know it was exactly that. All he could do with his time is imagine how he’d reunite with her in this life. It was one of his favorite parts of each new century or so, and after hundreds of lifetimes, there were plenty of memories to keep himself occupied with.

This time he knew he’d have to outdo himself, seeing as he was in an unfamiliar body, and he could only hope that she liked this one as much as the last. Perhaps the next time he took control of it he’d make sure everything was up to standard- he couldn’t have her rejecting him just because he was in some brat’s body this time. On the other hand, he knew her to be more playful and experimental than he was, so maybe she’d find a change in host exciting.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

To his delight, Sukuna is reunited with the great love of his life sooner than expected. To his great displeasure, it’s at exactly the wrong time.

He’d been irritated enough having his brat vessel tap out just because he couldn’t take on a measly little Special Grade. Of course, he wasn’t about to appease some righteous jujutsu sorcerer’s agenda by exorcizing the curse himself. But in the end, the curse disappointed him too, thinking that it could pick a fight with the King of Curses and come out of it alive.

Pride outweighed vengeance, and he found himself entertained with playing with the Special Grade. Playing, because of course it’s abilities were weak compared to real jujutsu, unlike the childish display the brat had put up first.

He’s so drawn in by his play fight with the curse that he’d completely missed her- that is until he’s using his Domain Expansion, and from the corner of one of his eyes he finally notices.

While it’s a shock that he’s managed to let the great love of his life go unnoticed, she isn’t exactly… conscious.

The special grade is sliced diced and forgotten, barely even a blip in Sukuna’s memory now once he recognizes the slumped over body on a pile of rubble a few hundred feet away. He’s delighted, ecstatic even. The bloodthirsty grin on his face is replaced by a beam of pure thrill. He’d previously thought it might take years to find her in this life, so to stumble across her now, after getting control of this body over a mere pest, was a real treat.

He approaches her limp body so quickly he’s practically teleported to her, and his beam begins to falter as he takes in her current state.

It’s not a matter of worry that she’s fairly beat up and knocked unconscious so hard there’s soft snores between heavy breaths, her mortal body working overtime to keep her alive at all- it was nothing a quick use of his Reverse Cursed Technique couldn’t fix.

The wince of disgust that contorts his features is directed solely at her attire.

Crisp black button up torn open to reveal the same shade of undershirt snugly fitting her underneath, paired with pants of the same material. He didn’t need to see the crest at the collar of her shirt to give him further context as to what she was up to in this century.

“Of course,” He utters through his snarl as he crouches down towards her, hands glowing as he promptly heals her wounds. She doesn’t awaken, her body growing even more exhausted after being put through the technique, but her muscles do appear to relax as she slumps further into the dirty ground. “You would be a sorcerer in this lifetime. Idiot,”

The cruel name falls from his lips with nothing but melted affection. No other person on this earth would be allowed to hear him speak this way and live to tell the tale. It was reserved only for her- and she wasn’t even awake to hear it now.

With steady hands Sukuna gathers her in his arms, trying to bend her into a more comfortable position. She doesn’t wince or complain when bruised limbs drag across broken slabs of concrete. If he wasn’t able to hear the steady beat of her heart, she would have easily been mistaken for dead already.

“A shitty reunion this time around, I’m afraid,”

Sukuna sighs before he sits fully on the ground. He’s not sure how much longer he’d be in control of this body, but any thoughts of fleeing to bring as much destruction to Tokyo is far from his mind. He wants nothing more than to sit here with his lover and hope that she’d wake back up before he’s dragged back into his domain.

With one arm wrapped under her shoulders to keep her limp body closely tucked to him, his free hand brushes the messy strands of hair away from her resting face. She looks peaceful, even though when she wakes she’d still carry the aches of her healed injuries. The tips of his fingers linger over her soft cheek as he admires her.

“Just as beautiful in this life as you were in every one before it, my love,” He murmurs, so quiet that even if she were conscious enough to hear it, she probably wouldn’t have.

He only gets a few moments of peace with her before he can feel a stir from inside of him, and he can faintly make out Yuji gaining his consciousness back. He snarls in his aggravation, wishing he could knock the brat out so he could get just a little more time with his long lost love, even if she wasn’t her usual lively self.

“Come, we have things to do” He tells her, before he pulls her closer and lifts her up.

He makes his way out of the destroyed building with leisure, knowing that the other sorcerer, Fushiguro, would be waiting outside for a fight. It wasn’t in his plans to end the kid’s life just yet, but with the reunion of his one true love coming prematurely, things might have to change. Oh well, he was flexible.

She fusses in his arms upon the lift, but even with her pinching brows and twitching eyelids, she never quite wakes up. Which was alright, they would have plenty of time to properly catch up in a bit. Sukuna had other things to handle first.

It would be some time still before she properly met the King of Curses face to face- in this life anyways- as shortly after his departure of the ruined building, he would have to set her aside to take care of a few of the weaker level shikigamis that the Fushiguro kid sent his way. After ripping the brat’s heart out of their shared chest, it would be a few weeks before things seemingly transitioned back to normal.

When (y/n) would finally come to in the infirmary a few hours after it all went down, Megumi would relay how the King of Curses had carried her out in his arms. She’d give him a bitter laugh, thinking he was trying to lighten the mood after the news of the death of their friend. But Megumi wasn’t usually very good at telling jokes, and after seeing his grave expression stay put, her face would fall.

“You’re serious?”

Megumi nods, the thin line of his lips unwavering.

(y/n) blinks a few times as she processes it slowly. She’s still not sure that she believes him, but she doesn’t have a reason not to either. If Gojo had told her this she’d have rolled her eyes, and maybe called him insensitive and unserious, but why would Megumi make something like that up?

“I don’t understand,” She tells him with a furrowed brow, and the way Megumi shrugs one shoulder unenthusiastically tells her he didn’t understand it any better than she did. “You’re telling me he saved me?”

“Maybe, I don’t know,” Megumi replies dryly. He should’ve known she’d ask him questions he clearly didn’t have the answers for, so he tried to provide her with what he did know so that maybe she wouldn’t torment him with more of her own questions. “But he brought you out, and set you down somewhere with your head propped up, and he didn’t try to attack you at all. At least, it looked like he didn’t”

Her tongue darts over the dryness of her bottom lip as her jaw hangs open at him. She doesn’t bother him with more useless questions, but that doesn’t mean the whole ordeal wasn’t plaguing her mind.

Something was very strange about that behavior. But with Yuji gone, she figured it was no use trying to decipher it all anyways. Maybe after some time when her grief wears off into something she could live with, she could forget about it completely.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

With Yuji turning out to be alive and well, Sukuna’s plans shifted once more. He’d tortured him as best he could without the ability of taking control of the body, letting his friend be turned into a transfigured human, refusing to kill the spirit that called itself Mahito- as upsetting as it was to his brat vessel, Sukuna cared very little for such trivial events. In fact, if Yuji were to shut up about it, he probably could have forgotten completely. He only had one goal on his mind- to return to her again. Anything else was merely a stepping stone along the way.

Just as before, Sukuna spends most of his time in his domain without much noise. Except this time, Yuji starts to get an inkling of what he’s doing.

“It’s unbecoming and submissive of you to pretend to be dead,”

Sukuna taunts one day while Yuji’s working on his ‘training’ on Gojo’s couch while he invests himself with a romantic movie. His sudden appearance was a good test to his abilities, though, as the sleeping cursed puppet on Yuji’s lap doesn’t stir. It was safe to say that Yuji had gotten as used to sharing his body with the curse as he was going to get.

“What if your little sorcerer friends need you?” Sukuna chuckles. He quite enjoys the image of Fushiguro and the little red-headed girl struggling to keep up with mere Second Grade curses.

“They’re fine” Yuji replies casually, barely paying attention to the mouth on his face that wasn’t his. The movie was just getting good, after all.

“You think they can manage to hold their own?” Sukuna scoffs at the thought. “With half-assed cursed techniques like theirs?”

“Fushiguro and Kugisaki are the most cutthroat people I’ve ever known. Didn’t Fushiguro almost kick your ass?” Yuji mutters, more irritated than offended by Sukuna’s cruelty. “You’re just lucky you haven’t had to deal with (y/l/n)”

So is that what she was calling herself this time? Sukuna’s lips tilt into a smirk.

“She doesn’t seem like much to be afraid of,” The words themselves are harsh, but something in his tone changes. Enough that Yuji starts to lose focus on the television. “Last I saw her she was half dead. If it weren’t for me, she would have been dead-dead”

That finally catches Yuji’s full attention, and he misses the next few lines of the movie when he asks, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Sukuna’s silent, thoughtfully so, as he tries to find just the right way to play his cards. Does he use his history with the brat’s friend as a scare tactic? Or does he keep that little fact to himself for a while longer? Either way, the longer he’s silent, the more Yuji begins to go stir crazy.

“Hey, you old curse!” He hollers suddenly, causing the cursed puppet in his lap to wake up and start to get aggressive. Yuji heaves as the tiny thing rears a heavy punch into his gut, but it doesn’t stop him from interrogating the curse inside of him. “What did you mean by that!?” He huffs out.

Sukuna chuckles, and just as quickly as he’d appeared on Yuuji’s cheek, he disappeared again, hiding away in his domain and entertaining himself with the sight of Yuji getting beat up by a little cursed teddy bear.

Perhaps he’d let the brat overthink for a little while longer, anxiety was a form of suffering after all, wasn’t it? At least watching the brat worry himself sick about it would provide him some amusement for the coming days. Until the sanction of his fake death is lifted, and he could go back to his goal of being reunited with his love.

(y/l/n). Her new surname rings in his head as he settles in his domain and lets his mind begin to wander again. As pretty as it was, he’d have to return it to the proper name. His name.

Yuji is attacked by Yaga’s cursed puppet a few more times that evening, but not due to the film changing his range of emotions. In fact, it was due to his complete lack of focus on the movie. All he could think about was what business Sukuna could possibly have with (y/n).

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

When he makes his surprise reappearance for his friends, Yuji debates on pulling (y/n) aside and asking her about what Sukuna had mentioned. But for all he knew, he very well could have been toying with him, and ultimately he decided to enjoy what little time he had to catch up with his friends before they dove into the Exchange Event. It just didn’t seem worth bringing up at this time.

But for some reason, when she takes her seat as the Tokyo students begin their planning, Yuji’s compelled to sit beside her. It’s not an odd choice, it’s not out of character for him, she is his friend after all, but he’s quite aware of the way his feet move on their own accord to carry him to the empty seat beside her. Yuji knows his body, and he knows he wasn’t the one commanding it to do that.

It makes him gulp when he unceremoniously plops into the seat. (y/n) gives him a look, something crossed between confusion and amusement, but she brushes it off and doesn’t say a word as she shifts her focus back to Maki. Yuji tries to ignore it as well, a bit embarrassed about the whole display. Was that really Sukuna? He tried to clear his mind, too, it was quite important that he took in everything Maki was saying, but his mind is wrapped up in whatever game the King of Curses was playing right now.

And finally, when he thinks he’s heard enough of the game plan for the event, he feels it.

The slit under his right eye opens, the side facing (y/n). Yuji holds his breath, hoping that Sukuna doesn’t open his loud mouth and bark out something insulting, but he doesn’t. His mouth never materializes. He simply stares.

It’s almost worse.

A few minutes pass and no one seems to notice, as the attention of the room is still commanded by Maki. Except for Yuji himself, as he’d stopped listening to her altogether while he anxiously awaited whatever was to come next. What was he doing? He began to bounce his leg.

His throat closes up when he sees (y/n) turn her head out of the corner of his eye. He doesn’t meet her gaze, even though she’s clearly staring at him- or Sukuna, he supposes- but she doesn’t speak up. She’s just as silent as the curse he’s hosting. Still, her gaze remains on the dark eye peeking out at her. If they weren’t in a room with all of their peers, Yuji would’ve broken his ignorant demeanor by now, but something inside him tells him to keep his mouth shut.

When the group disbanded for a quick lunch before the event officially started, (y/n) remained seated while the others filtered out, and when Yuji began to stand, she stopped him. All she’s done is reach a hand out, she barely even touches his arm, but it’s enough for him to stop in his tracks, and he stays put in his seat.

They don’t say anything until the room is empty, and even then, (y/n) chooses to speak quietly, almost under her breath.

“What the hell is going on with…” She pauses, her eyes flickering between Yuji’s and the ones below, before she raises her hand in a small gesture. “Him?” She mumbles it so low, afraid that saying his name would be enough to summon him, even though he’s so clearly already there before her.

“I don’t-”

Yuji starts, but before he could say anything- or think of anything to say- Sukuna’s mouth is materializing on his cheek. It’s an unsettling feeling on its own, but Yuji always felt a certain chill on his spine whenever he’d feel that mouth forming a smile.

“Just missed lookin’ at you, sweetheart”

Yuji’s face is sickly pale in a matter of seconds, the fear that settles over him tenses up all of his muscles, to the point they ache, and as much as he wants to remove himself (and Sukuna) from this situation, he’s frozen in place. Too stunned to say anything, too stunned to move, he just stands there helplessly as (y/n’s) wide eyes dart between both pairs on his face.

(y/n’s) reaction comes first, the shocked expression wearing off into something else. Yuji can’t place what it is- anger, disgust- but she loses the desire to keep the conversation quiet as reality settles over her.

“What!?” It comes out in a screech, but it’s just as quickly followed by absolute rambling. “What the hell are you talking about? What the hell is he talking about?” She awkwardly shifts her gaze between both sets of eyes, unsure and unfamiliar with how to communicate with the both of them.

“I- I don’t-”

Again, Yuji’s interrupted before he can come up with anything.

“We still have all the time in the world, for now you just keep your pretty little head focused on this game of yours, hm?”

Just like that, the fanged mouth is disappearing and Yuji’s cheek is returned to it’s normal state again.

(y/n) blinks, going silent again while her face is flushing with color. Now her eyes seem to focus on the lower, darker pair of eyes. It’s hard to gauge what Sukuna is thinking, or feeling. With only a narrowed set of eyes to go off of, not to mention he’s a reckless curse, he’s not a man, she doesn’t know what to make of the interaction.

But with the memory of what Megumi had told her, a dread begins to weigh down her chest. Whatever this behavior was about, it couldn’t mean anything could. It was unwanted attention, that was for sure. No matter how warm her face felt, or how nervous she suddenly was just being around Yuji.

Soon enough the eyes shut too, but even though it appears it’s only her and Yuji in the room, she can still feel Sukuna’s presence. She swallows the lump in her throat like it’s lead.

“Let’s just…” Her eyes flit away from the closed lids, meeting Yuji’s warm but worried gaze again. She’s not sure if it’s a comfort or not that he seems just as anxious as she feels. “Let’s just get through the Exchange Event first” She suggests.

She’s sure that this is the right choice of action. There was simply no time to dwell on Sukuna’s out of character behavior- then again she didn’t know him, she didn’t know what was in character, he was a curse!- not with all of their peers relying on them to secure the win for the Tokyo Prefecture.

Although she couldn’t deny her head wasn’t exactly in the game during the event. When she finds herself getting sloppy, taking hits she normally should have been able to dodge, she begins to curse the King of Curses himself. Surely this whole thing was an act, that was what he was best at, wasn’t it? Torture? Mind games? He was probably laughing it up in his domain watching her struggle so miserably at an event she couldn’t have been more prepared for.

When shit really hit the fan and curses and curse users reared their ugly heads in the middle of a semi-light hearted game, it dawned on her just how out of it she’d really become. Suddenly it didn’t matter how Mai shouldn’t have been able to get that shot at her shoulder- or how she should’ve seen Miwa’s Domain Expansion coming. There was no way she was going to let a curse like him get in her head and keep her from protecting her friends and herself from a real threat.

And once this attack in the middle of their event was taken care of and the scores were settled, she’d find a way to give the King of Curses a piece of her mind.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

That time came sooner than expected, and it’s seemingly out of nowhere when he pays her a little visit.

Deep down she knows that she should be terrified when the King of Curses is at her door requesting her time for ‘a talk’ as he called it. A thousand questions should flood her mind, and after some time they’ll begin to register, slowly and one by one, far later than it’s appropriate to ask.

He’d gotten her alone, and this should terrify her further, she should feel like a lamb in the presence of a wolf- no- curse. But for some reason, when he enters the training room she’d been doing warm ups in, all she does is stare at him.

Sukuna knows that there’s no way she could have mistaken him for the brat, not with all of his markings, not with his vermillion eyes, not with the abundant amount of cursed energy he carried with him. Any other mortal would straighten up, freeze in place and stare at him in utter fear as they waited for whatever fate he bestowed upon them.

Not her.

Foolishly, he believes this is due to the lifetimes they’d spent together before this one. Even though he’s well aware of the rules of the courtship. He recalls many meetings before this one where he’d had to open her eyes to the Binding Vow that brought her back in every lifetime. Still, he naively held onto a hope that her lack of reaction to his presence now is because somewhere inside of her, she knows she doesn’t need to be afraid of him like the others.

(y/n’s) true feelings couldn’t have been farther from his assumptions. It may have been a moment of poor judgment, but the moment he’d materialized at that door, irritation overrode self preservation. It didn’t matter that the cursed energy he carried was so heavy it was palpable.

She took one look at the King of Curses and furrowed her brows like she was a child he’d wronged, and there wasn’t an ounce of fear for her life when she’s the first to speak.

“What the fuck are you doing out?”

Out, it’s a funny choice of word, isn’t it? Sukuna can’t help the chuckle of amusement. Did she mean out and about, casually roaming the sacred grounds, or could she have meant out due to his control over the brat’s body?

A frown settles on her lips when she sees he’s already enjoying himself. She should be wondering what he’s been up to before he came here, or when exactly it was he gained control over Yuji’s body.

“And what happened to-”

Before she could fully voice her worry for her friend, Sukuna’s waving a dismissive hand.

“The brat’s fine, not everything has to be about him, you know” He scolds her as if this was a conversation they’d had a hundred times before now. Her frown deepens.

“Forgive me for caring more about him than a curse like you” She scoffs back at him.

How was it that in every lifetime she had to have that same bad attitude? Of course eventually she’d always settle down and warm back up to him, century and century again. Some cases took days, others years, and Sukuna was starting to get a feeling that due to the circumstances they found themselves in this time around, this case could be the latter. He frowns at the thought.

He found her so quickly this time, why did she have to be so stubborn?

“Always such a brat, I can hardly tell the difference between you,” He replies.

The look of disgust on her face is washed away by mild surprise. Both from the soft and easy cadence of his usually rough and cruel voice, and from the realization that he probably should have killed her for talking back to him the way she did. Now she starts to wonder just how many buttons she can push before she sees the true side of the King of Curses.

Her brows pinch together as she watches him with calculations behind her eyes. Was this all a part of the act from before?

“How interesting could things have been if you’d swallowed the finger that day and not this brat, hm?” He muses, and he seems genuinely curious about it.

(y/n) can barely keep up with him, trying too hard to jump to conclusions before he’s revealed them. Then again, there might be nothing to understand at all- this was all a part of the mind games, wasn’t it? She makes a mental note to meet with Gojo about this. Sukuna must’ve had greater plans in mind that the strongest sorcerer should be looped in on. Even if so far… he hadn’t exactly done anything… just made her friendship with Yuji fairly awkward.

Sukuna hasn’t moved from the doorway. Her eyes sweep over him carefully as she wonders if this is purposeful. If his motive is to give her a false sense of safety.

“Humor me for a moment, (y/n)”

He sounds out her name like it’s an unfamiliar word, and for the first time since he’d appeared minutes prior, there’s a familiar hollow in her chest. At first she tags it as distress, but the way it lingers like a dull ache has her double guessing it’s cause.

“What?”

No should’ve been what came out of her mouth- if anything needed to be said at all. Would he let her leave if she tried? Would he punish her for it? However, despite every instinct begging to drag her in a different direction, she can’t help the intrigue she feels for him.

“What’re you doing here as a sorcerer?” He hums again with his question, eyes narrowing on her slightly as he takes account of her every reaction.

She’s holding her breath right now, it’s obvious in her tense jaw and unmoving chest. Not even a strand of hair waves in it’s place. Every part of her is so still, he could easily mistake it as her natural instinct to fear him as her natural predator. He knows this isn’t the case.

She opens her mouth to protest the question at first, but just as quickly, her jaw slacks, and she’s closing it softly as she sits on it a little more thoughtfully.

“Why do you ask?”

It irks him to have a question answered with another question. This was another quirk of hers that she always had in the earlier stages of their reunion. Even with the grain of irritation, Sukuna still finds himself amused in the way that she truly is the same person in every lifetime. She may have different names, and occasionally a feature or two isn’t quite how he remembered it- and trust him, he remembered- but her soul remained pure, unfiltered, unchanging. She was always his.

“The last we spoke, you had quite the unshakable opinion about a society that breeds and boasts of it’s powerful children to protect them, only to leave them in neglect…” He trails off, scanning her features in the search of any flash of recognition. If anything, she’s only more confused. Her brows are furrowed and her lips have formed a pout which he deemed as her sign of defeat in trying to understand him. “Something about creating the things you fear. But it was quite some time ago, and I see you’ve so clearly changed your mind” He raises a hand, palm up as he lazily gestures to her.

(y/n’s) posture straightens up, partially out of her defensive nature, but mostly due to the seriousness in his tone. Logic tells her she shouldn’t be taking anything he says as truth, it would be foolish, and in the end probably deadly too.

But that intrigue hits her, ignites a tiny spark in her chest that has her longing to learn more. The intensity tells her that if he weren’t this curse, that perhaps if he was just a man, she might humor him in the way he was looking for.

If she began the what if game now, she feared she’d find herself justifying her continuation of this conversation.

“You must have me confused, then”

Her words are clear and concise without being loud.

“I haven’t confused you in any century before this one and I would never confuse you in the ones to come after,”

She tries to hide the surprise in her expression, but she knows she fails. Especially when Sukuna’s amusement in her reaction seems more genuine than before. He takes a step into the room, just a single one.

“Your brat friend is fine. He fell asleep. We have a sort of… deal,”

There is some comfort in his words, even if (y/n) is unsure about her trust in him, the words still hit her chest and her shoulders slowly begin to untense. She doesn’t question him, doesn’t make any comment at all. She supposes he’ll fill the silence eventually, and her assumption is correct.

“You and I have known each other for quite some time,” He continues. “Long ago, you made a Binding Vow to me. A vow that allowed your mortal body to be reborn in every lifetime, so that I may find you”

Her brows furrow, hardly believing this to be the truth. She’s supposed to believe a Binding Vow could hold the power to reincarnate her? A quiet scoff blows past her lips.

“Incredible,” She murmurs, but it’s clear her astonishment isn’t enthusiastic. It’s cynical. “What sort of entertainment do you really gain from this?”

She asks, crossing her arms over her chest as she dares a few steps forward. She’s not all that close to him, but at the end of the day it didn’t matter her distance from Sukuna, the radius of his danger could stretch for miles.

“You never believe me right away” He muses, his hands folding behind his back as he regards her curiously. It makes her feel like a specimen, like a wild animal he’s just stumbled upon, but she doesn’t shrink under the intensity of his gaze.

“Would you?”

It’s not the response he’s expecting, but his eyes light up with a flicker of excitement.

“Of course not,” He answers, his lips beginning to curl into a smile. It should send a chill down her spine, but she takes another step forward and tilts her chin up higher. So foolish, he thinks with an air of loveliness wrapped around it, don’t you see that the mere fact I let you live for behaving like this must mean there’s some truth in my words? Instead, he tells her “Yet, you fall every time”

“I fall for the trick?” She snaps, but her intrigue remains.

“You fall for me” He clarifies, a finality in his tone that has her shutting up, albeit momentarily.

No, she must’ve been right, it was all some grand trick. Some ridiculous, theatrical ploy he’d come up with just to deceive her. She’s not sure of the why yet- if he wanted to kill her, couldn’t he have done it already? If he wanted to torture her, couldn’t he have chained her up by now? She’s skeptical, but she would hate to admit that some part of her, deep, deep down, considers that he may not be lying to her.

Of course he must be lying, so she tries to shove that idea down.

“And why would I do such a thing like that?” She asks, her tone bored, but the wideness in her eyes as she awaited his answer didn’t go unnoticed.

Sukuna unfolded his hands in order to push them into the pockets of Yuji’s pants. His grievance in wearing a sorcerer’s uniform was obvious in the unsavory curl in his lips as he briefly glanced down at himself, but his attention returned to her just as quickly.

“A Binding Vow is a double sided contract,” He reminds her. “You entered it willingly,” He tilts his head at her as he watches her process this information, before he tells her the full truth. “In fact, you were the one who brought the idea to me, sweetheart”

“Don’t call me that” She mutters out quickly, not thinking twice about the consequences of scolding the King of Curses.

“It’s true,” Sukuna shrugs his shoulders with a lazy drag. “I almost didn’t agree to it. But you’ve always been… convincing”

She’s not sure what he means, because the memories he’s recalling aren’t shared- if they’re real memories at all- and yet, she continues to lay her questions on thick.

“And why wouldn’t I choose to remember all of this then, hm? If I chose to be reborn, over and over, why wouldn’t I have wanted to remember?” She’s challenging him, and Sukuna’s enjoying it, even if it means that right now the distance she puts between them is further than before he’d found her due to her distrust in him.

History has repeated itself for thousands of years, but no event was as perfectly cyclical as she was to him. Time and time again he would find her, and in every lifetime, she’d been his.

“You wanted to,” He tells her. “The vow took a bit of a different turn than expected. See, your soul didn’t simply leap into a pre-existing person with each reincarnate. You were born again. Every part of your being, physical and… otherwise, was reborn. It actually makes it all the more difficult to find you, you know”

“Seems like a copout” She says, her expression unamused.

“Well go on then, what else do you want to ask me?”

“I have nothing,” She lies. “Because I’m not entertaining this any further”

“Fine, then,” To her surprise, Sukuna actually accepts her rejection- if you could call it that. “I’ll give the brat his body back. But you’ll know where to find me once you start to remember”

He leaves without a word, not even a mere wave, and it’s not until he’s gone that (y/n) wonders if she should be worried about him roaming the grounds of Jujutsu Tech, but nothing happens.

In fact it’s such a quiet night that the next morning everyone seems well rested and rejuvenated, all in good spirits and ready to take on the day. Everyone but her. And she can’t stop her eyes from shifting towards Yuji every thirty seconds, always double checking the slits under his eyes, as if one of these times she’d find them open and focused on her.

She can’t get the image of Sukuna lounging so casually in that training room. It’s hard when one of her closest friends shares his face, so even when she’s not anxious about seeing that second set of eyes, her heart still skips a beat when Yuji’s eyes catch hers and he smiles politely.

Naturally, that skip in her heart was due to her nerves, and had nothing to do with the contents of her discussion with the curse inside of him.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Sukuna gives (y/n) what he believes to be an abundant amount of time to let their past settle in. He wants her to process it all properly. He wants her to come to her senses and realize that there were no ulterior motives in his reveal.

He still makes the occasional crude comment from Yuji’s cheek, but while they’re ever directed at her, she finds her posture straightening and her eyes trained on the skin where he’s materialized, always waiting for him to direct something her way. He doesn’t. He hardly even looks at her- when she’s looking, that is. While inside of his domain and perfectly hidden by Itadori Yuji, Sukuna spends as much of his time staring at her while he can. Some days, there’s an intensity so strong that Yuji finds himself not-so-subtly staring at her too. Sukuna doesn’t like this- if he had things his way then no one would lay there eyes on what was his- but letting Yuji sneak glances here and there was a small price to pay in order to make sure the pair remain close enough that Sukuna’s still able to have some sense of nearness to her.

Due to this silent period on his part, (y/n) decides against bringing Gojo’s attention to the situation. While she knows it hasn’t just disappeared, because she just knows that it will be brought up again, she hopes that enough time passes that she can learn to brush it off as nonsense spewed from a bored curse.

It nags at her, despite her best efforts, she never allows herself to forget it completely. It crosses her mind every day, if not every minute she spends with Yuji. The way he stood, the way he spoke, it would play on a loop in her mind until she was sure it would drive her to the point of madness. It very well could have, already.

And one night, she decides to take the reins into her own hands, and she approaches it first.

After watching a partial movie in the common room, Megumi had long gone to bed and Nobara had crashed on a makeshift pile of blankets on the floor, (y/n) feels an anxiousness settle over her when she hears Yuji begin to snore and he, too, was just as knocked out as the rest of her friends.

She debates on it for a moment, her eyes sliding between the flickering television and the resting boy sitting beside her on the couch. Her index finger taps at an unkept pace against her knee, and she lets as many minutes pass as she could, just to be sure Yuji truly was asleep.

Then she turned her head fully, eyes focused on that mark under his face where Sukuna’s eyes were peacefully shut. Not sure of the inner workings on how the whole vessel thing worked, her only choice was to take a shot in the dark and hope it worked.

“I was going to tell Gojo about what you said, you know”

Her whisper is so soft, her voice cracks and gives on certain syllables. Even if he could hear her from in there, she wonders if he could have heard something so silently spoken.

Slowly, the eye opens, and it blinks a few times before it slides towards her. She wonders if he sleeps in there, or if every introduction light when he leaves his domain requires an adjustment.

And then, Yuij’s stirs, and (y/n) freezes up, watching as he twitches before his eyes begin to blink awake, as well. Fear spikes in her chest at the thought of getting caught talking to the curse inside of him while he slept.

But when his eyes fully open and an array of markings begin to paint across his features, she realizes it’s not Yuji. It’s just his body. There’s a certain guilt that follows her relief from this. In no situation should she feel pleased to see Sukuna over Yuji.

“Am I supposed to be threatened by this?” He asks slowly, in a low tone of voice that she can’t decide the cause of. Was he trying to be considerate of the sleeping sorcerer on the ground? Or was he just trying to be as menacing and mysterious as always?

He doesn’t lift his head from where Yuji had been dozed off against the couch cushion, neck craned at an angle that couldn’t be comfortable to sleep in for the entire night, but Sukuna’s not exactly looking out for the brat’s comfort. He could use a good crick in the neck or two.

“I don’t think there’s anything I could do to threaten you,” (y/n) replies honestly, the hush in her voice making her sound softer than she would’ve liked. She doesn’t need him thinking she’s warming up to being in his presence, after all. “But… would you kill me if I was?”

“What do you think?”

It comes out fast enough to be taken harshly, like he holds a disbelief in how idiotic she could be, but their conversation began with a whisper and it seems to be carried on that way. A lump forms in (y/n’s) throat as she holds eye contact with the darkened vermillion ones that stare back at hers.

The deep feeling she’d buried, the one that told her maybe she trusted him whether she liked it or not, sparked and caught light, burned just a little bit brighter, caused just enough smoke for her to give some of her attention to.

If he truly wanted to kill her, he had millions of chances to do so before now. So she concludes that his goal wasn’t to do so. Of course, this begs the question,

“What is it that you want, Sukuna?”

She’s much calmer than the last time they spoke, he notices. She’s nervous, but not tense, and not nearly as defensive. He’s not naive, he doesn’t mistake this for trust, but he is pleased in her change in attitude.

An idle smile curls on his lips as his fixed gaze softens with familiarity.

Just like every time before now, she always, eventually, came around to him. It was like her curiosity couldn’t keep her away, and her heart always won over her mind.

“I believe you already know the answer to that” He refrains from letting an old pet name fall from his tongue, a courtesy to her that he allows this once, just so she wouldn’t flee from her seat next to him.

She hums, letting the sort-of-answer sit on her mind for a moment. An unknown feeling gnaws at her- or at least, a feeling she doesn’t want to put a name to.

“Why?” The word ghosts off of her lips, and even with the worried knot between her brows her eyes stay set on his. “Why does it have to be me?”

“You’re looking at it all wrong,” Sukuna muses, his lower set of eyes rolling just slightly before he can help it. “It doesn’t have to be you- it just is. It’s always been you, and it always will be”

“Because of the Binding Vow?” She questions, and he blinks at her, processing what she meant, before his brows furrow just a little bit, and he shakes his head.

“The only clause to our vow is that you will always be reborn,” His tongue runs over his teeth as he tries to bite back the amusement he feels when realization dawns on her. “Everything after that comes from your own free will, sweetheart”

“Don’t call me that” She snaps at him, but it’s a mumble, hardly audible, hardly threatening. Sukuna purses his lips.

“Like I said, you were the one who came up with the contract,” He huffs. “I would’ve never agreed to such a thing if you weren’t so persistent”

She perks up at that little comment, and suddenly turns in her seat, tucking her legs underneath her as she faces him. Sukuna’s barely moved at all, still slouched into the cushion in the position Yuji had fallen asleep in. His eyes follow her movements as she sets her elbow on the top of the furniture so she could prop her head in her hand. Her brows are drawn together again as she studies him.

“Then why tell me about it?” She blurts the question out.

“Because I’m the one burdened with the centuries of memories” He replies without missing a beat, voice dry and expression unreadable. He’s keeping it as neutral as possible, knowing her calculating eyes would see right through any sudden change, no matter how small.

“And you are?” She asks, and then in a softer voice, finishes the thought, “Burdened?”

Sukuna blinks, slowly, before letting his gaze wander the soft and curious look on her face. He fights the urge to smile at the loveliness of it all- the twitch in her nose, the small pout in her lip- he’s the King of Curses and there should be no force on this earth that weakens him the way her gentle gaze focused on him does. Even after all this time, she is his achilles heel, she is his greatest burden, and she is the only thing he could ever truly, completely, want.

“Yes,” His answer is quiet, and (y/n) lifts her head as she stares at him with her confusion. “There exists no stronger shackles a being could trap me with the way you have,”

Her face falls, and she’s silent for a long moment. With a dry throat and a mind too busy and overcrowded with thoughts, she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say. But that gnawing feeling was starting to make her chest ache, and the pounding of her heart in her ribcage was relentless.

“There’s no greater curse I could bear”

She hates the way he says these things so casually, without a strain in his expression or voice. She wonders if it’s because he’s done it so many times that it’s lost it’s value. Perhaps to him, this was just a part of the burden that was her existence, explaining these things to her was simply a chore that needed to be completed. She swallows a few times to ease the dryness of her throat.

“Does it get old?”

Sukuna smiles. It should trouble her- he knows that it unsettles Yuji- but if she feels unease it’s not shown.

“A thousand years of anything gets old,” He sighs, rolling his head over the cushion to stare up at the blank ceiling. “And I’d hate to admit the things that never get old”

It’s stupid. It’s ridiculous and foolish and naive, but she smiles.

“What doesn’t get old?” She asks, her curiosity blending with a sick sense of delight as she wonders just how many sides of Sukuna there really are.

He angles his head towards her again, narrowing his gaze as his lips twisted into a small smirk. It felt like his technique had the ability to see right through her- she wondered if he was really strong enough to do that.

“Last time we spoke, you said you wouldn’t entertain this,” He reminds her. “What’s changed?”

“Nothing,” She murmurs back without a moment of hesitation.

It’s the truth, and she has no reason to falsify an answer for him. Just as he had no reason to be so forward about their past. Even if she hadn’t gathered much, this conversation was much different from their last, and she felt as though she would walk away with this one overwhelmed by all of this new information. Her trust in him is precarious, and could easily be destroyed by one wrong move, but right now, she can’t see what reason she has not to take him at his word. It’s not as if he’s asking for anything in return, it’s not as if she won’t return to her dorm for the night and likely not see or speak to him again for some time. So, she supposed, what was the harm in entertaining the idea just a little?

“Nothing at all” She finishes the thought softly, before turning her attention back to the forgotten movie still playing across the room. It was nearing the end, and she’d missed enough of it to barely understand what was happening on screen now, but she didn’t have any more questions for the King of Curses tonight, and he kept quiet as she watched the movie.

To her surprise, Sukuna did sit and watch the movie. She’s not sure how much of it he actually listened or paid attention to, but it was clear that he had not given Yuji his body back, and was still very much alert and in control.

(y/n) doesn’t return to her dorm room until she finally sees Yuji asleep next to her, his face bare of any markings, and the extra eyelids under his eyes closed just as peaceful as his own.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

In the meantime, (y/n) didn’t feel so anxious around Yuji anymore, which they were both grateful for. Yuji wasn’t sure why the sudden chance came about, but he certainly wouldn’t complain. He was just glad to have his friend acting her usual self again.

He had no idea of the few chats she’d shared with the curse he hosted. While Sukuna wasn’t necessarily hiding his interest in her, he wasn’t forthright with the brat either. He didn’t need the kid interfering with what he was building on here. It was slow moving like a trail of molasses but Sukuna was more patient than most people gave him credit for. He could let a lot of things go.

Not this, however.

All of Gojo’s students had been sent on a seemingly standard assignment. Odd, unexplainable disappearances had been happening in a clearing in the middle of the woods, enough so to alert jujutsu society and send a few sorcerers to the scene to investigate.

Upon arrival, there was an undeniable heaviness in the air. The field that the group of four found themselves in didn’t stretch for miles, but it was no small clearing. It was a strange place for a curse to settle in and lure non-sorcerers towards. Curses often tucked themselves into hidden spots, within abandoned buildings or deep in the thick brush of the woods. Not a clearing of grass and wild daisies.

The entire situation was odd, it didn’t sit right in anyone’s mind as they went their separate ways to scour the area for any insight on what was happening here. It didn’t take long for something to turn up.

A curse that had to have been a First Grade, with a large, sharp toothed grin and gouged out eyes, materialized in the clearing’s center, and as soon as it clocked this evening’s prey as jujutsu sorcerers, it seemed to go into a mad state. (y/n’s) not sure if it possesses great speed or the ability to teleport when it’s suddenly before her. All she’s able to do in that amount of time is lift her weapon into an offensive position, she’s not even given the time to drive it forward in an attack before suddenly, she’s no longer on the ground.

She comes to mid air, just before she hits the ground and rolls a few times before her senses kick in and her hands brace themselves against the ground. She can faintly hear her friends calling for her in their shock, but it’s distant. Her head is spinning too fast for her to lift it to see just how far the curse had thrown her.

A few coughs erupt from her throat before she even tells her body to do so, brought on by the hit to her chest once she’s lifted herself up enough to relieve the pressure from the ground. Her arms are trembling from the adrenaline and a few drops of blood splatter from her mouth, but once she’s sat up enough, she drags the sleeve of her uniform over her mouth to dry the blood, and she finally gets a good look at where she is.

She’s been thrown clear out of the field, and she considers herself lucky that her body hadn’t been halted by a tree, and instead tumbled to the ground. Being thrown directly into one of the large oaks she’s surrounded by could’ve been fatal if she’d hit it just right, or at the very least she could’ve broken her ankle. With a rushed assessment she decides nothing feels broken, and therefore she can grab her weapon and-

Her weapon is nowhere near her. She scrambles to her feet, her breaths heavy and irregular as she searches around the grass, looking for the large blade she’d had in her hands less than a minute ago.

It had only been a minute, right? She hadn’t blacked out, had she?

Realizing there was no use wasting her time looking for a weapon now, she pushes herself to break into a sprint back towards the clearing. Her friends are blurry images moving about, trying to attack the larger blurry images that fends off their attacks with little struggle. She concludes this when she begins to hear the yelps and grunts of her fellow sorcerers, and yet the curse doesn’t seem to struggle at all.

Just when her vision begins to clear and she’s preparing herself to rejoin the fight with only her cursed technique and her fists, she sees the curse grab Megumi by the leg, and soon after he’s getting thrown into the air just as she did. His name is torn from her raw throat in an instant- but Megumi is more prepared to be airborne than she was, drawing his hands together to summon Nue to catch him.

Relief is short lived, and soon Megumi finds himself instructing Nue to catch Nobara and Yuji when shortly after, they’re being thrown as well. Nue’s a quick shikigami, but it’s only strong enough to carry one person at a time before it’s energy starts to deplete, and the curse keeps at it’s movements, chuckling the three of them into the air before they can land an attack on them on their decline. Yuji tries, using Black Flash on his descent in the hopes of striking it where it hurts, but the curse manages to catch him in a tight fist before chucking him again.

(y/n’s) still keeping an eye out for her weapon when she grows nearer to the fight, seeing as no one else’s techniques have caused any real damage yet, her cursed tool of a sword could be quite handy right about now.

She was hoping that with it’s attention focused on the other three, she could attack it from behind, and drive it more towards the clearing again. With how much movement and tossing it had done, it had driven them all deeper into the woods, which made it harder to land attacks, but had been good coverage for (y/n) to sneak up in her approach.

To her disadvantage, she hadn’t expected there to be a pair of large eyes on the back of it’s head. In the dark of the night she hadn’t noticed them until they’d opened and landed on her instantaneously. It must’ve sensed her sneaking around behind it.

She’s quicker in her movements this time, dodging it’s large hand before it could grab onto her, but it outsmarts her and snatches her up in the other. A yelp sounds from her when it squeezes harder than the last time, her air supply cut off just as she’d tried to take in a large breath, making her sputter and cough as it raised her in the air again. A sense of dread and failure washes over her when she realizes it’s going to throw her again. Whatever this curse’s deal was, it had a thing for throwing it’s victims around to torture them.

And torture it was- as this time when she’s launched into the air, it’s a clear throw over the trees. It’s harder than before, and faster. The cool air cuts over her face in sharp streams, bringing tears to her eyes before she could comprehend what would come of her fall. She could brace herself, but as she gets a watery glance at what’s below, she knows that shielding her face would provide no comfort to her fall.

Just past the cluster of oak trees is a steep overhang. Rock and the roots of old trees jutting out some thirty feet to the ground.

This is why her fall felt so long. A sharp gasp escapes her, and when her inhale gets caught in her throat, she wonders if this is the last breath she’ll ever take.

When she shuts her eyes to protect them from the harsh wind, a wetness spreads down her cheeks. In a last ditch effort at self preservation, her arms brace over her face, and she buries herself into them, not wanting to see the last thing that would break her fall. Hopefully she wouldn’t feel it, either.

Her jaw clenched tightly as her heart began to race faster, expecting the crash to come soon.

The sensation isn’t as expected. There is no slam against stone or cold ground that knocks the wind out of her. Instead something’s wrapped around her middle, and out of worry that the curse had grabbed her in order to throw her again, she withdraws her head from her arms in a jolt.

It’s not the curse that’s caught her mid-fall.

It’s Sukuna.

With one arm wrapped around her back and the other around her shoulders, his large hand braces the back of her head to keep her tucked close. They’re still falling, but the sensation feels different like this. It’s almost as if he’s carrying her to the ground, his posture as natural as it would be if he were standing there now.

Wide, watery eyes blink up at him in astonishment when she fully registers what was happening.

“You’re alright, I’ve got you, sweetheart”

If it weren’t for the rawness in her throat, she might’ve scolded him for the pet name, but her voice was taken away from her as soon as she’d been heaved into the sky a second time.

She doesn’t even process the way she’s gripping onto him until he lands on the ground, holding her up just a moment longer before carefully setting her on her feet. Her hands are holding onto the sleeves of Yuji’s uniform in fists so tight her knuckles are white, and her hands are trembling.

The others are nowhere in sight, or at least, she can’t see them right now. Her mind is so shaken up she doesn’t actually look. Her eyes don’t tear away from the stunning red of Sukuna’s once. She doesn’t even blink- hence the continued downpour of tears. From the wind and her acceptance of a brutal death, her emotions were slowly catching up to reality.

Her chest is heaving but there’s no relief in feeling like she’s caught her breath. Her heart is pounding so hard that it makes her ribs ache, but that very well could be the bruising from her previous fall setting in. Her mouth moves but it takes a few tries for any real words to come out, and when her voice does come back to her, she doesn’t say much.

“S- Sukuna-”

He silences her before she could even try to say something else. Prying her hands off of his arms and placing them at her sides, even though there’s still tremors in her muscles.

“I only have a minute,” He tells her, in a gravely serious tone that she’s never heard from him before. She blinks her wide eyes, leftover tears getting stuck on her lashes. “It’s been handled”

He doesn’t say anything else, but he doesn’t get the chance to before his posture begins to weaken, followed by his eyelids twitching and the marks beginning to fade away.

Gasping, (y/n) surges forward, grabbing Yuji by the shoulders before he could stumble and fall. His eyes roll and blink a few times before he feels in control of his body again. Soon after his posture straightens, and then it’s Yuji who’s looking worriedly down at (y/n).

She’s close, very close. Her hands are gripping onto his shoulders for dear life. He can feel her panting against his chin as her worried eyes scan over his features.

Yuji’s disoriented, like maybe he’s just woken up from a dream, or maybe he’s just woken up inside of a dream, and he’s not exactly sure how to voice this concern. She makes it harder on him when one of her hands leaves his shoulder in order to reach for his cheek.

It’s so affectionate, the way she reaches for his face and presses her palm against it, that Yuji finds his skin heating up and a blush appearing over his cheeks before he could will himself not to. She’s never behaved this way with him before. He could only recall casual touches that occurred during training, or maybe a brush of her fingers when she handed him something, but nothing as intentional as this.

And she’s certainly never looked at him like that either. He can’t place his finger on it, but it makes his stomach churn to meet her eyes.

“Uh, (y/n)?” He mumbles out her name, and he finds himself doing a quick sweep of her, assessing her for a major injury. But she’s standing just fine, and he can’t see any blood. This had to be a head injury, right?

He asks himself that question once more then the pad of her thumb brushes under his eye. She faintly traces the incision of the closed eyelid just below his eyelashes. Yuji holds his breath, but he’s not sure who he’s doing it for. (y/n), whose eyes are glossing over as she’s gazing at the wrong eyes, which remained closed, or Sukuna, who Yuji was sure she was trying to reach to now.

And then she leans even closer, and the breath he’d been holding is forced out of him from the closing distance between them. Her hands remain where they are, on his shoulder with an iron grip and against his cheek with the gentleness of a butterfly landing there.

On instinct Yuji finds his eyes darting down to her lips, but he’s positive she’s not going to kiss him- right? She wouldn’t do such a thing on a whim, not like this, not now when they’ve barely completed their assignment. Not to mention their friends aren’t too far away- where are Nobara and Megumi anyways? Yuji’s thoughts are racing as fast as his heart as he struggles to figure out what to do as she grows nearer.

Before he has to come up with a decision, (y/n) stops, and Yuji swallows the lump in his throat out of relief that she wasn’t leaning in to kiss him. The ride home would have been so awkward.

“Thank you” She breathes out the words, her thumb stroking over the spot on his cheek one more time before she finally drops her hand, and she pulls away from Yuji completely.

He blinks at her in disbelief, waiting for his heartbeat to calm down, which it does the further she steps away.

“What happened?” He asks, louder than he means to, but when he finally collects his thoughts and processes what just happened, he can’t help but blurt out the question.

The pair begin to make their way back to the clearing, both realizing that the First Grade curse was gone, clearly exorcized with the amount of purple goo coating the surrounding plants and trees. They don’t discuss it right away, but they both have an inkling on how it was taken care of.

“Sukuna saved my life”

Yuji wants to ask more questions, but when he turns towards her to do so, he can tell that she’s not ready to talk about it. Her features had hardened, and she didn’t meet his eyes as they walked.

He knows he’s put off this conversation one too many times already… but once again he finds himself biting his tongue as they catch up with their other friends.

Something tells him that he’ll have to bring it up soon, though. Because the King of Curses wouldn’t save just anyone’s life twice- much less a sorcerer. And he has a gut feeling that (y/n) knows more than she’s letting on.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

This time, it’s only a few days since the last assignment when (y/n) crosses paths with Sukuna again. Well, this time around, he came to her.

She’s just slid her bookmark between the pages she’d decided to pause on tonight when there’s a knock at her door. With a quiet huff- she was just about to go to sleep after all- but before she can call for her visitor to come in, the door slides open and he’s inviting himself right on.

“Yu-! Sukuna?”

The initial scolding tone she takes drops as soon as she realizes he’s not who she thought. Her voice softens around his name in a way that it shouldn’t, but that she can’t help. She sits up a little further in her bed, brows furrowing as he slides the door shut behind him.

“You can’t just walk in here”

“I knocked”

“Okay well… well you have to wait for me to actually invite you in” She mumbles out, only to be met with a scoff and a humorless chuckle. But when her frown deepens, he sighs.

“Fine, I’ll knock for longer next time” He grunts, before he begins to wander around her room. He glances over the few things littered on her desk- a picture frame of her and her friends, an open and neglected textbook, a pair of bracelets she’d forgotten to put away- he almost forgets why he’d come in to begin with.

“Um… did you need something?” (y/n) asks after a minute of him wandering around and eyeing all of her things.

“You’re freaking out the brat,” Sukuna says casually, picking up a little porcelain cat on her shelf. His eyes narrow as he turns the small thing around in his hands, as if trying to decipher it’s purpose. “He won’t stop asking about you now”

“What?” (y/n) pushes the covers off her lap, moving to the end of the bed to sit a little closer to him. It doesn’t matter if she’s quiet, it’s only the two of them in the room, but she feels a sudden need to lower her voice anyways. “What do you mean he’s freaking out?”

He turns to her then, the figurine still in his hands. The tiniest of smiles purses on her lips at how silly a tiny cat looks in his large and tattooed hands. Despite how easily he could crush it to dust, his hold on it is gentle.

“I just thought that you should be aware, you know, that eventually you’ll have to decide if you want to explain yourself to your friends or not”

Her stomach twists and turns into dozens of little knots. The King of Curses was stopping by her room late into the night just for this? She shouldn’t be surprised, because she knew his motives, but still, she blinked at him with wide eyes.

“You haven’t…?” The question trails off as she shakes her head at him, unsure of how to word it just right.

“I don’t like the idea of the brat knowing all of my business,” Sukuna hums, finally setting the cat back down on her shelf. “You’ve always had a knack for collecting useless things” He comments, and the words are harsh but his tone is nothing but amused.

“So… you think I should talk to Yuji?” She asks, and Sukuna lets his shoulders rise and fall in disinterest.

“If that’s what you want” He says, but it doesn’t feel considerate. (y/n) frowns.

“Don’t you think he’ll be… upset?”

“With you?”

She nods.

“You’ve done nothing wrong. If anything, the brat would only worry about you. Seeing as he despises me, and all”

“You don’t exactly make it easy to feel otherwise” (y/n) mumbles, and her words hang in the air for a few long moments. She’s not sure if she means the insinuation behind them or if it’s just a coincidence, but she doesn’t try to backtrack to explain herself.

“Yes, well, he certainly cares more for you than he does for me. Too much so. Some boundaries might do you some good, you know”

“Boundaries?”

“Yes, boundaries. He almost kissed you”

Her eyes nearly bulge out of her head before her brows furrow and she scoffs in disbelief.

“What? What are you even talking about?”

Sukuna tucks his hands into his pockets, looking all the more out of place in her room at this hour.

“During your little gratitude session on your last assignment,” He says, his lips curling into a deep frown. “You got a bit too close and his brat-mind went a bit haywire. You don’t need to be so affectionate with him, you know. A plain thank you would have sufficed-”

“I wasn’t being affectionate with him,” She snaps back, and Sukuna raises a brow at the display. “I was thanking you, asshole. You pretty much saved my life?” She says it like she’s trying to jog his memory. “I wasn’t trying to make a move on Yuji, and I’m sure he knew that too. I don’t control his thoughts, he can think whatever he wants, doesn’t mean it’s happening”

Sukuna steps closer to where she sat before bending down to match her height. She’s still frowning, clearly annoyed with this interaction, but she had yet to ask him to leave, and he has a feeling she won’t.

“So if the brat had plucked up the nerve to make a move, you would’ve pushed him away?” He asks, and he’s smirking, almost as if he wants her to say otherwise. Her eyes narrow, not understanding what his mind games were getting at this time.

“Politely, yes,” She answers, shaking her head at him. “Why does this matter? Last I checked, in this lifetime, I’m not some cowering wife for you to boss around”

Sukuna laughs at that, genuinely laughs. He stands back up to his full height and throws his head back and cackles so loud that (y/n) can only pray Nobara doesn’t wake up from next door. She might not need to whisper to speak with him, but the walls weren’t exactly soundproof either.

“Sweetheart, you’ve never been a cowering wife,” He tells her once his laughter died down. “A wife, perhaps, but never some submissive weak minded mortal” He adds.

“So we have been married?”

She asks him with such peculiarity, and it makes him chuckle again. She sounds as though this has been the strangest thing he’s revealed thus far, and he can’t help but find humor in it.

“We have” He answers.

(y/n) shifts her position, pulling her legs towards her chest and staring up at him expectantly, waiting for a continuation that wouldn’t come. Sukuna merely stares at her with mild confusion.

“Well?” She asks, tilting her head forward. “Did we get married every time?”

He smirks.

“I’ve told you that you created a Binding Vow in order to be with me across centuries of eras. In the grand scheme of things, don’t you think marriage is a little… bleak?”

(y/n) shrugs a shoulder, resting her arms atop her knees as she gazes back at him curiously.

“It’s bleak in this lifetime,” She murmurs back. “Not to me, at least”

Sukuna hums, before shaking his head.

“You never change”

“Do I really?” She presses again. “For the last… thousand years… am I really the same?”

Sukuna ponders for a moment. This was a common question of hers, and each time, he struggled to answer it.

“You really want to know?”

She doesn’t say anything, but she pats her hand against the space on the bed next to her. Sukuna’s gaze shifts to it momentarily, before looking back at her. After a moment, he takes a seat.

“You are almost completely the same in every lifetime I’ve found you in,” He explains. “You’re always stubborn, you never make it easy. But you always… come around,” He turns to her. “Like now”

“You think I’m coming around?” She asks, a skeptical look in her eye that makes him smirk. He leans forward as though the next part he shares is a grave secret.

“You never want to admit it, but you always have a soft spot for me”

(y/n) raises a brow back at him in defiance.

“I think you’ve got that turned around,” She murmurs. “I think the King of Curses has a soft spot for me. And I think he’s making it everyone’s problem”

He chuckles quietly, his gaze sweeping over the gentle features of her face.

“I think the feelings you have for me in every beginning come from your soul’s memory,” He tells her, raising a hand, and gently pressing the pad of his thumb against the center of her forehead. The sudden touch makes her freeze at first, but eventually she relaxes as the rest of his fingers lay in her hair. “I haven’t quite figured it out yet, I don’t know how it is that you’re never able to keep your memories,” He tilts his head as he ponders it for a moment, his eyes focused on where he’s touched her head. “But I think deep down, you know that you trust me”

(y/n) doesn’t have a witty comeback for that one. She’s still reeling from the warmth of his touch, and the weight of his words. But she feels obligated to say something when his gaze met hers again.

“I never said I believed you in all this, you know” She whispers weakly.

“You don’t believe me?” He murmurs back at her, his voice a low rumble as his hand starts to fall from her head. He doesn’t remove his touch, he lets the back of his finger trace along her temple, before slowly moving down her jaw. Sukuna doesn’t seem displeased in her words. If anything, he seems intrigued by them. “You know, you almost look the same in every life, too”

“I do?” She asks, just as his fingers fall still against her cheek.

Sukuna hums, and nods his head.

“The last I saw you, your hair was different,” He tells her. “It was longer, to about… here,” With his free hand, he gently touches her waist, and the way she tenses doesn’t go unnoticed. “You would wear it in all sorts of different styles. Pretty braids and… whatever our servants would desire to do that day,” Her eyes widen at his use of the word servants, but Sukuna glides over it. “But that was a few hundred years ago, of course. It would all be outdated now,” He drops his hand from her waist, but the other remains against her cheek, his touch ghosting over it. “Not that it wouldn’t still be exquisite”

Her eyes shift between his, trying to decipher the emotion they hold. She can’t tell if he’s amused or sorrowful. Was he disappointed that she couldn’t remember?

“This is why I’m the one who doesn’t believe you” He murmurs after a few beats pass.

(y/n’s) brows draw together just slightly, just enough to pinch the skin between them.

“What do you mean?” She asks, her voice betraying her as it shakes just a little.

“Because you look at me like that” He says, nodding at her slightly.

(y/n) blinks, doe eyes resembling the glass of the porcelain cat he’d just been mocking. Her lips are parted, formed in the smallest of pouts as she gazes up at him, that look unrelenting.

She tilts forward, her gaze flickering over his face leisurely, mapping out the black markings, and all the small details that make him so different from Yuji. The way he insists on pushing the bangs out of his face, the broader jaw, the sharper canine that she only notices when he laughs or smiles- which is quite rare. She’s admiring him so openly that Sukuna’s not sure what to do under such heavy surveillance, so he just sits there and allows her to stare.

But eventually, she sighs, and drops her legs from her chest before she crawls across her bed, moving to get under the covers again. Sukuna remains in his spot at the end, watching her without an expression as she settles into her pillow.

“Does it disturb Yuji’s rest when you take over like this?” She asks quietly as she presses her cheek into the soft comfort of her pillow.

No, the brat’s completely dozed off, that’s why he could take over like this. It’s what he wants to say, but he doesn’t.

“I’ll be sure it doesn’t” He says as he stands, and walks around the bed, facing the side she’s just moved to. He crouches down to meet her eye level again, and (y/n) moves a little closer to the edge towards him.

“Okay, good,” She whispers.

She blames her exhaustion when she reaches out to him, the tips of her fingers barely prodding at the dark ink that follows the sharp curve of his jaw. Her eyes follow it as she traces it down to his chin, almost painfully slow. It takes every ounce of restraint for him not to lean into the touch.

“I don’t know what you expect me to do, Sukuna,” She murmurs, her fingers lingering on his chin, her eyes slowly meeting his. “I… I can’t…”

She can’t even say the words. She hardly wants to be thinking about them. But Sukuna knows her better than anyone who’s ever walked this earth, and he nods back at her in understanding before she could try to finish the thought.

“I’ve never expected anything of you,” He murmurs, before reaching up to pull her hand from his face, gently closing his fingers around her own as he moves it away. “You have been the greatest love of my life whether you’re able to remember or not,” He tells her, and she listens to him with her full attention. “And whether you believe me or not, you still will be,”

There’s the smallest of squeezes to her hand with his words, and a lump begins to build up in her throat.

“You can ask more questions another time, alright? You should get some sleep, sweetheart”

She gives him a faint nod, her eyes already feeling too heavy to keep open when she feels her blanket being dragged over her shoulders. Distantly, her mind registers that the King of Curses is tucking her into bed, but she’s too tired now to comment on it.

There’s another squeeze to her fingers, followed by a hesitation, and then the soft, unmistakable pair to two lips pressing against her knuckles. It’s not a lingering kiss, and it’s featherlight, over as soon as it began, and again, (y/n) keeps her eyes shut and doesn’t say anything.

Sukuna lays her hand down against her blanket with the gentleness of maneuvering a newborn. She hears him walking away towards her door.

“Goodnight, Sukuna”

It’s the softest call, but it’s enough to make him pause at the door and glance back at her. She still can’t look at him- she’s afraid she’ll burst into tears if she does, although she can’t quite explain the heavy emotion that’s bringing the tears to her eyes to begin with.

“Goodnight, my love”

It’s murmured so quickly before he’s hastily exiting her room that she could’ve missed it altogether, but she doesn’t. Her hand curls into her sheets as she pulls it close to her chest as she lets tonight’s conversation sink into her mind.

The truth was, she did trust him. She did believe him. And she was pretty sure this was the case for the entire time she’s known him. She’s pretty sure this was unavoidable.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Everything’s blurry when she first comes to.

And everything hurts.

She tries to move, but it only results in a strangled whine being pulled from her throat as soon as she tries.

She’s on the ground. It’s covered in rubble. There’s glass pricking her arms- or maybe the gravel was just that sharp. There’s a warmth pooling under the side she’s laying on. Likely blood.

Another groan when she at least tries to get on her back in order to assess the bleeding wound on her left side, but just as she’s about to roll her body weight, she catches something in her vision.

Yuji?

He’s slumped over against a wall, and he looks no better than she feels. Covered in bruises and blood that may or may not be his own- whatever went down was ugly.

She blinks a few times to focus her vision a little better. She tries to call for him but her throat is raw and all that comes out is another whine. Either way, he’s clearly passed out and wouldn’t have responded. The fight must’ve taken everything out of him.

Oh, the fight, it slowly starts coming back to her in flashing images. That Blood Manipulation Guy. He was rough. She’s not sure how they got out of it alive- she’s not sure how they got to this point at all. Her mind’s still foggy and the only thing that’s easy to focus on is the shooting pains in her body.

That is, until there’s the sound of clicking heels and hushed, feminine voices. (y/n) hadn’t even realized her eyes had slipped shut again until those two appeared, and she peeks her eyes open to see two girls whispering between themselves as they crouch before Yuji’s body.

They look harmless enough, no older than her, and not to mention they look anxious. So nothing about her blurry assumptions about them triggered any warning flags.

That was, until they pulled out a bag of fingers. Unmistakable fingers.

She needs to get up now and she knows it. She pleads with her body to move, wishing the throbbing hot pain in her left leg would disappear just long enough for her to get to Yuji, to stop these girls from what they’re about to do.

It’s unclear how much time lapses before she notices a third figure at Yuji’s body. A curse. And he seems to have a few fingers of his own, too.

No, her voice cries, but it’s only in her head. You can’t do that.

She’s never felt so weak, her fingers barely twitching against the concrete when she’s trying to tell her body to get up. She’s sure that means none of the rest of her limbs are moving. She’s trapped there.

Her heart is pounding, her breaths are labored, dread consumes her so completely she’d throw up if there was anything left in her stomach.

It’s tough to count just how many fingers are shoved down Yuji’s throat before the curse is clamping his large hand over his mouth and forcing his head back in order to make the unconscious boy swallow every last one. With tears in her eyes she knows it’s more than what’s safe, and there’s a turmoil in her gut as she doesn’t know how to feel about what comes next.

With her heart pounding in her ears she can’t tell what exactly the fighting amongst the curse users and the curse himself was about, but suddenly only the cycloptic curse remains standing over Yuji’s body. He’s grunting and growling, still pushing the boy’s head back. (y/n) wonders if he’s swallowed all those fingers by now.

These three were idiots. But they were idiots stronger than her, and even if she’d had the strength to stop them, it would’ve been futile.

However, now, they hardly made her list of things to be afraid of in Shibuya.

The blood that’s pooled under Yuji’s body startles her- when did that get there? But after blinking a few times to clear her sight and focus just a fraction of a bit better, she realizes it’s not human blood at all, but that awful purple essence that leaves a stench behind.

“I’ll give you one second,” Comes the familiar voice that doesn’t belong to the body it erupts from. “Move”

In a flash, the small crowd around him is a good ten feet back. (y/n) could almost laugh if her throat wasn’t bloodied raw. They chose to wake him up with all those fingers, and now they’re visibly afraid of what they summoned themselves? They truly had no idea what they were in for now.

It only takes one glance towards her before Sukuna’s suddenly before her beaten form, crouching down to assess the damages.

“Now, which one of these insolent freaks did this to you?” He asks, tilting his head as his Reverse Cursed Technique took effect over her wounds with haste. “I’ll start there”

“N-none of them,” She stammers out, even though it’s the truth.

For the first time, she considers that she should be afraid of Sukuna. The other three are still trembling even from their distance, barely letting themselves breathe in his presence.

All she’s ever felt towards Sukuna is irritation, perhaps mild vexation, but mostly he just confused her. But now, she can feel the abundant amount of cursed energy wafting off of him, and despite his history in sparing her life and taking an interest in her, she briefly wonders if this is the moment he changes his mind.

The thought passes in a matter of seconds, when a pair of hands are gently aiding her in sitting upright. Even with his technique healing her wounds, there are still aches and pains that make her wince. Shards of glass falling from her skin as the healing tissue forces them out, bruises that still sting when she moves too quickly before their nasty colors disappear completely.

And Sukuna regards her with an expression she’s never seen before, but it makes her heart lurch in her chest. It’s concern. His brows are knotted, and his eyes are scanning over her repeatedly to make sure no injury was left on her body. This was followed by sizable hands mapping over her carefully just to double check.

She should be afraid, but she’s not.

In fact, as soon as those vermillion eyes return to hers, all she can feel is relief.

And she doesn’t think twice before she’s darting forward on achy knees, her arms wrapping around his neck and the rest of her body colliding into his so harsh it knocks the wind out of her for a moment, but she doesn’t mind panting to catch her breath again. She embraces Sukuna as tightly as she can, as though he’s the only savior she’s ever known, an angel painted in pure white rather than the corrupted being he truly was.

Sukuna has half a mind to grab her by the neck and remove her from him with a snarl about how her injuries were still healing, but instead he wraps an arm around her, his hand smoothing over the tattered back of her uniform.

She could only imagine what the three at the end of the corridor were thinking, watching the King of Curses embrace such a weak sorcerer.

“You understand now, don’t you sweetheart?” He asks her quietly, and she manages a small nod against his chest, before her hands tighten into fists at the red hood that lies between his shoulder blades. “It’s been a rough night, hasn’t it?” He muses, and when (y/n) doesn’t give him a response this time, he uses his free hand to pry her face away from his shirt, hooking her chin under his finger so that she’d meet his eyes.

Rough night didn’t even begin to cover what she’d been put through, what was she supposed to say?

“It’s alright now, my love, I’m here,”

Those words from him shouldn’t bring her the amount of comfort that they do. The tears in her eyes begin to drip down her cheeks. Sukuna’s smiling as he brushes them away, and despite her better judgment, she leans into the touch, seeking out even more comfort. He chuckles at the sight, but humors her as he cups the side of her face in his palm, cradling her head with the gentleness of holding a flower by it’s petals.

She won’t admit it, not now anyways, but she knows deep down that there is no force on this earth greater than the swell of love in her chest right now. It’s something she’s not sure should ever be voiced, but she has a feeling that Sukuna will find a way to draw it out of her anyways. Just as he’s made her trust him, just as he’s made her confide in him, he’s bound to find a way into drawing the confession out of her as well.

Perhaps it’s her own fault, too. Hiding the way a part of her believed everything he’s ever said to her, hiding the way it made her feel to know that she was so loved by a force so strong and unstoppable that he’d scour the earth after every lifetime in order to find her again.

I think the feelings you have for me in every beginning come from your soul’s memory, he’d said. But I think deep down, you know that you trust me.

She stares at him now knowing all of this to be true, and Sukuna can almost see every thought in her dilated eyes, swallowed nearly whole by dark pupils as she clings to him now.

With a brush of his lips to the crown of her head, he makes her a promise that she’ll live through this horrid night yet.

She still holds onto him when he stands, and he lifts her up with ease, cradling her to his chest like she was merely a small and frightened child. The only unease she felt now was knowing what fates were in store for the three at the end of the hall, who Sukuna had set his sights on first.

“Now, let’s take this one on together, sweetheart, shall we?”

Her own fate was still unknown to her, but sealed in place long ago.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[ cause i love to love to love to love you // i hate to hate to hate to hate you ]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

xoxo ~ jordie

a/n: thinkin about writing a snippet of their past live(s) or something. i wanted to add something like that to this fic but i wanted the reader to feel unsure if they really could trust him soooo it went a diff route. idk don't hold me to it. i'm just a girl.

#sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #ryomen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #ryomen sukuna imagine #sukuna imagine #jjk imagine #jujutsu kaisen imagine

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edenesth · 4 months

Text

The Way to His Heart [1]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Teaser | Fic Masterlist | Part 2

Park Seonghwa.

As pretty as it may sound, that name was known across the nation as the intimidating military general trusted by His Majesty, the King, to lead the royal army.

For those who have not had the privilege of encountering him in person, the assumption might be of a rugged and perhaps middle-aged individual, given his extensive experience on the battlefield and high military rank. And those who have met him will know that his beauty was just as deadly.

But there's more to it – his renown extends beyond the confines of martial prowess. The general has garnered a reputation for scaring away all potential marriage candidates. His cold nature isn't limited to the battlefield; it extends to his personal life, affecting even the people closest to him.

In essence, Seonghwa was not a figure most people would look forward to meeting at all. If anything, most tended to avoid him like the plague. His name alone was enough to instil terror, be it in enemies, common folk, or even nobles.

But he was more than fine with it.

The general took pleasure in the fear that gripped anyone crossing his path. He had no interest in being loved or admired. The bloodshed inherent in his job brought him ample satisfaction, and the accompanying title and wealth were merely added perks.

One thing that irked him more than anything else was the King's relentless insistence that he should marry.

You see, he lacked the capacity for love, having grown up devoid of any such affection. All he cared for was his own survival. He understood, more than anyone, that trust was a rare commodity on this earth. Those close to him always harboured their own motives. The concept of genuine love or care was as good as non-existent in his dictionary.

His parents, if they could even be called that, abandoned him by a dumpster outside an orphanage. Born prematurely and deemed likely to die soon, they left him for dead. However, his determination to survive surpassed all expectations. He fought through the years and emerged as the person he is today.

Seonghwa's entire childhood was marked by brawls fighting for survival and to earn a living. But then fate took a turn when a perceptive military soldier scouted him, recognising the untapped potential within.

Rising from the bottom, his borderline cold-blooded character propelled him swiftly up the ranks, achieving remarkable progress within just a couple of years. His notoriety soon echoed in the ears of the King, and almost in the blink of an eye, he ascended to become one of the youngest generals in history.

And that was how he learned, through the hard way, that one would have to be useful in order to be valued. He has seen enough to understand it was a dog-eat-dog world.

The King favoured him solely for his skills, his servants stuck around for the generous pay, and every potential spouse presented to him was merely interested in his wealth or title.

This time would be no different.

"Seonghwa-yah, you're not young anymore, my boy. It's time for you to get married and have a few kids. Otherwise, who would succeed you? It would be such a shame for your bloodline to die with you." His Majesty said, a concerned frown creasing his wrinkled forehead.

The general lowered his head to conceal the smirk on his face. See? That's exactly what he meant. One would be foolish to believe that the King genuinely wanted the best for him; all the old man cared about was ensuring the continuation of his legacy.

Before Seonghwa could present another argument, as he always did, the King raised a hand to halt him, "That's enough; you have rejected all my previous proposed matches and deliberately scared off some of your betrothed as well. I may have been too lenient with you. This time, you will get married, and that's final."

He gripped the hilt of his sword in frustration, "But, your Majesty—"

The King shook his head, "Seonghwa, you will be stripped of your title if you do not cooperate."

That was enough to silence him.

He had worked tirelessly to reach his current position; it would be stupid to jeopardise it all over a refusal to marry. The whole idea seemed utterly outrageous; the old man must be senile to be threatening him over something so trivial.

But what choice did he have?

None.

"Fine, as you wish." The general sighed.

His Majesty's demeanour swiftly changed, breaking into laughter and applause, "Oh, that's wonderful! We already have a perfect candidate for you anyway. The Minister of Military Affairs has offered his eldest daughter's hand. I'm sure she would make a lovely wife for you."

"Has he now? How thoughtful of him."

Seonghwa wasn't stupid; he recognised that the minister harboured resentment regarding his recent ascent in the ranks. The old fool was undoubtedly anxious about preserving his own position and was actively exploring ways to subdue the younger man's progress, going to great lengths just to keep the general from outranking him.

As the assembly with the King concluded that day, Minister Jang was quick to intercept Seonghwa before he could exit the palace, "General Park, I eagerly anticipate our forthcoming union. I assure you, my eldest is a gem; you'll come to adore her." The elder man remarked smugly.

"Oh, I'm sure I will." He sneered, shrugging off the minister's hand before storming off.

Arriving at his estate, a servant approached the general with a tray of tea, "Welcome home, master," Having suppressed his anger for too long, he couldn't hold back any longer. He smacked the tray out of the poor woman's hands, growling, "Get out of my goddamned sight this instant." She bowed repeatedly, apologising profusely as she picked up the tray and the broken cup before scurrying away.

He slammed the door to his study open, nearly scaring the living daylights out of his only trusted aide, Jongho, "S-sir, is everything alright?" The assistant asked tentatively.

Seonghwa grumbled as he kicked his desk aside to sit in his chair, "The King demanded that I get married and even threatened to strip me of my title if I refused. I need you to dig up some information on Minister Jang's family; that man is up to something."

Jongho bowed once and rushed off to do as he was told, "Will do, sir."

Glaring at his desk, he clenched his fists at the thought of his future wife. Considering her hateful father, she likely resembled him. After all, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. He was more than ready to face the likes of her, having successfully scared off a few spoiled brats before.

More unbearable to him than the King's incessant pressure for him to marry was the presence of irritating little pests, manifested in the form of noblewomen from wealthy families—the entitled sort who believed they were superior to everyone else.

All the encounters he had experienced so far were with that particular breed. If given the chance, he would gladly eradicate every single one of those seemingly useless, good-for-nothing individuals. Without a doubt, his wife-to-be would be another one of those insufferable girls.

Be prepared, wife. Life is about to become quite exhilarating for you.

"Gather around, kids. I have news!" Your father announced as he entered the family estate, cheerfully wrapping his arm around his second wife, your stepmother.

"What's going on, father?" Jinah asked, eagerly joining her two sisters, Jinhee and Jinjoo.

The man let out a tired sigh when he realised you were nowhere in sight, "Where is she?"

Jinhee scoffed, "You mean unnie? In her cage, of course. This is a family meeting; why would we need her around?"

The minister directed a nearby servant, "Fetch her to the main hall; I have an announcement to make." The three sisters and their mother exchanged intrigued glances, wondering what this unexpected proclamation could entail.

Staring numbly out of your tiny room window, you ponder the meaning of life. What was the point of being born if every member of your own family shunned you? To be fair, only your father is family; your stepmother and stepsisters are mere outsiders. Yet, even he hasn't bothered to treat you as such.

Your mother might have been the sole person to ever love you, but you couldn't possibly be sure. Unfortunately, she hadn't been alive long enough for you to remember much about her.

Could she have had any love for you, even when she herself lacked affection from her own husband?

That, you'll never know the answer to.

You've heard that your father had no choice but to marry your mother for political reasons and that your stepmother had been his mistress at the time. When your mother finally fell sick and died, he seized the opportunity to marry the harlot and take in all three of her bastard daughters.

Life has been nothing but hell ever since.

No one has treated you like a lady from a noble house; not even the servants were allowed to do so.

All you could remember was pain.

Endless pain all throughout your childhood.

In fact, the pain still persisted until this day, you felt it acutely in the numerous spots on your body, each a testament to the beatings you endured regularly as punishment. And those punishments were often for things you didn't do—blatant lies told by your stepsisters that your father used as an excuse to unleash his wrath.

Excluded from all family activities, even meals, you survived on leftovers and were confined to your quarters with nothing to occupy your time. It felt as if you were treated worse than the estate's servants, receiving only enough sustenance to keep you alive. You were more like a punching bag, there solely for their tormenting pleasure.

No one would acknowledge you in this household. You were as good as dead until one of your family members wished to have some fun, your misery providing the best entertainment.

So, imagine your surprise when you were summoned to the main hall for an announcement. Why does your presence suddenly matter? The curiosity gnaws at you as you reluctantly make your way to the gathering, wondering what twist of fate awaits you this time.

Cowering shamefully, you faced the evident disgust in your stepmother's and stepsisters' eyes as they took in your shabby appearance.

You struggled to figure out where to sit.

Approaching the only available seat next to the youngest, Jinjoo, you trudged over timidly, only for her to intentionally spill her cup of tea on the chair, "Oops! My bad, unnie. I guess you'll have no choice but to stand." You wished the ground would swallow you as everyone around snickered into their fists.

You looked over to your father, hoping he might stand up for you, only for your heart to sink in disappointment as usual when he averted his gaze with a clear of his throat, "Alright, now that you're all here, I have news to share." He announced, leaving you standing awkwardly in the corner, unnoticed and unwanted.

"Something interesting happened at the assembly with His Majesty this morning," Your father announced, capturing everyone's attention. All eyes were on him, eagerly awaiting the big revelation of this announcement, "The King has pressured General Park to marry once again, and this time, he was serious."

You noticed the expressions of your stepsisters turning fearful at the mere mention of the famous general.

"I figured it would be good to establish a connection with the general, considering his powerful standing in the military. So, I offered my daughter's hand to him in marriage."

Your stepsisters all gasped simultaneously.

"Father! How could you do such a thing to us?! Haven't you heard? That general is a monster! He scared off all of his previous fiancées. Do you have any clue how he'll treat us?" Jinah screeched tearfully.

But her mother calmed her with a sly smile, "Oh, you silly girls, why did you think your elder sister is here for?"

Oh.

Remaining rooted to the spot, you took in the shocking news. Your supposed family cheered at the announcement, their excitement palpable.

"Oh, unnie! You're finally making yourself useful for once!" Jinhee laughed, and your father nodded, a smirk playing on his lips, "That's right, my dear. You've always struggled to find a purpose in life, haven't you? Perhaps you'll grow to love your new life with General Park. I'm sure he'll take good care of you."

Everything turned into a blur as they celebrated what felt like your demise. Dismissed to your quarters, you retreated, letting the weight of the information sink in.

You had heard of General Park; how could you not? He was only the most feared person in the entire country.

Perhaps, in a twisted way, that could be a good thing. If he were to end your miserable life once and for all, it might be a mercy for you too.

After all, you had had enough of this life.

On the day you were set to marry Park Seonghwa, you were puzzled to find a group of servants sent to your quarters, armed with some of the finest clothes you'd ever seen, "What is this?" You questioned, eyeing the luxurious garments with scepticism.

The head of the maids sighed, "Young miss, you are marrying as the eldest daughter of Minister Jang. Surely, you have to at least look the part, yes?"

Oh.

That made sense.

Of course, it was all to make your father look good. Who would care about you?

Resigned, you sat like a doll as they worked on enhancing your appearance, transforming you into a vision of refinement. You observed their extra effort to conceal the remnants of bruises and scars from years of torture.

"All done." The head maid declared as they turned you around to face the mirror. As your eyes met your reflection, you failed to recognise the person staring back at you. You hadn't known you were capable of looking... what do they call it? Beautiful?

But this was only temporary.

You couldn't possibly fool the general forever with makeup. Sooner or later, he would see just how ugly and broken you were underneath all these artificial lies. And he, too, will be just as disgusted as everyone else. When that happens, you are mentally prepared for all the possible outcomes.

How much worse could it get?

After all, you had already endured a lifetime of hell. Surely, the torment couldn't be as severe as what you had experienced all these years... right?

One of the elderly servants, always watching you from a distance with pity in her eyes, approached you as the others dispersed. Her frail but warm hand landed on your shoulder as you met her gaze through the mirror.

With a kind smile, she nodded encouragingly, "I hope you find happiness out there, young miss." You didn't know why your eyes grew wet at those words as you watched her leave with the rest. The unexpected warmth in her gesture lingered, and for a moment, a spark of hope ignited within you.

Happiness?

You weren't sure you even knew what that word meant, but perhaps you'll learn the meaning of it outside of these walls. These walls that felt so much like prison all these years, it's almost funny how it was supposed to be your home.

Truthfully, you didn't think you'd ever live to see the day you would be allowed to leave this wretched place. Caged in here all your life, does anyone even know of your existence?

Perhaps not.

Well, now they might.

Heading to the entrance of the Jang estate, you carried little belongings, close to none.

Your family stood around, excited to see you off. The devious smirks on your stepsisters' faces faltered slightly at your transformed appearance before they scoffed, "Who would've thought? Guess you could actually fool someone looking like that. Just wait till he realises how useless you actually are." Jinhee sneered.

But Jinjoo snickered, "Oh, I'm sure she'll be useful in certain ways."

Jinah burst into laughter at the implication, "Oh yes! Give us plenty of nieces and nephews to play with, yeah?"

Your face burned with humiliation as they made fun of you, as they always did, "That is if she's strong enough to survive him in the first place." Your stepmother muttered, chuckling slyly.

Your father took a step toward you, "There's no time to waste; now get going. Don't you dare make me look bad."

You bowed before turning to leave, but a surge of courage prompted you to look back at your father one last time, croaking, "Father... have you truly never cared for me at all? For my happiness?"

He clenched his jaw, his response cutting, "Don't make me laugh; you and that mother of yours have only ever been a pain to me."

That hurt.

Why did it hurt?

It wasn't news to you. But still, it hurt.

"You want happiness? Find it with him then."

« Preview of Part 2 »

The night before the wedding, Seonghwa lifted his gaze from his scrolls to find his aide arriving slightly out of breath, "Have you found anything, Jongho?"

The assistant nodded after bowing, "Not much on the rest of the family; everything about them is just as known by the public. However, I did uncover more information about the eldest daughter, your bride."

The general straightened in his seat, "What about her?"

With a frown, Jongho continued, "It seems not much is known about her, despite being the eldest. She's the only daughter of Minister Jang's first wife, and no one has seen her set foot out of the estate since her mother's passing. Most sources claim her to be a mystery."

Seonghwa smirked, leaning back in his chair, "She must be quite precious for her father to keep her hidden all these years. Oh, I'll treat her well, all right. Get the head maid to prepare her quarters."

Jongho nodded curtly, feeling a chill run down his spine as he witnessed the sarcastic grin on his master's face.

"Only the best for future Lady Park."

I just want to emphasise that this is NOT a sequel/prequel or extension to Seonghwa's part from my 'Crazy Form' Comeback Special Series. This is a completely different story taking place in an entirely different universe.

Also, while this may be in the Joseon era, I do apologise if some of the details may not be historically accurate. After all, this is only a work of fiction, so please enjoy!

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts, feedback or reviews! I love hearing all about it! <3

Tag list: @aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina @huachengsbestie01 @evidive @weedforthoughtz @ssrnghwa @yunnieo @sunnyhokyu @lynnsqueendom @frobin4ever @chwesuh-imnida @thunderous-wolf @itstheghostofmypast @professormingisglasses @deltamoon666 @avantalem @famishalll @yungilia @soobiverse @joongified

#edenesth #the way to his heart #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #park seonghwa #ateez seonghwa #arranged marriage au #joseon era #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x you #ateez fic #historical au

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dual1pa · 1 month

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"you're gonna make me fall in love with you"

steve harrington x reader using she/her pronouns

A/N: ahh the sweet smell of a best friends to lovers fic <3

WARNINGS: 18+ ONLY PLEASE !! language, swimming in underwear (both reader & steve) kissing w/ tongue, boob grabbage, missionary position but no smut occurs

(doesn't follow plot of Stranger Things)

She placed her Converse-covered feet on the leather seat of her best friend, Steve Harrington's beat-up Chevy. He received the "piece of shit car," as he would say, from his parents as a graduation present years ago. It was originally his father's work truck, but he no longer needed it.

"At least you have a car, son," he told him.

All her attention was outside of the car as Steve drove them to their favorite spot at the lake. It seemed as if no one knew it existed since there was never a soul in sight, which was great for the two of them to get away from the hustle and bustle of their small town of Hawkins, Indiana.

The scenery of the drive there was something else - especially at sundown after a warm summer day when the sky was filled with yellow, orange, pink, and purple.

As her hair blew from the open window, she hummed along to Tiffany's 'I Think We're Alone Now' as Steve tapped his hands to the beat of the song on the steering wheel.

Steve pulled into a rocky area where he normally parks the car, went to grab a blanket out of the trunk, and led her to their favorite spot.

Normally, they didn't swim in the water, just lay on the fuzzy blanket, listened to the water and their favorite tunes from Steve’s portable radio, and stared up at the stars.

She and Seve have been friends since middle school, yes, even though his King Steve era where he thought he was better than everyone.

The two of them rarely had fights, and when they did, they quickly made up and went out to get ice cream or head to their favorite spot on the lake.

They found their spot on accident after participating in an extra credit assignment for Ms. Taylor's science class - since the both of them were failing at the time.

Now, a year later, they considered the spot theirs.

Just like usual, empty.

Steve tried his best to lay the teal blanket down flat, but the grass made it difficult.

She laid down first, then Steve. He watched her figure out her next thought as she stared up into the cloudless sky.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked, resting his body on his arm.

She turned her head to lock eyes with him and smiled, "I kinda wanna go swimming."

"I didn't bring a swimsuit," Steve sighed.

She chuckled, "Neither did I," quickly getting up and stripping off her T-shirt and jean shorts, leaving her in a bra and underwear.

Steve had seen her change a dozen times and she could care less as she had no shame about her body.

Without waiting for her friend, she ran into the cold but refreshing water. She dove under the small waves and resurfaced to find steve shoving his pants off, leaving him in plaid boxers.

Once he caught up to her, they enjoyed the water for a while longer then went to air dry on the blanket.

Steve reached for the radio to find a station playing a song they both liked. as if it was fate, one of their favorites played softly through the speaker.

He got up and started dancing and singing the lyrics, urging her to come join him on the imaginary dance floor.

She grabbed his hand to help her off the cozy blanket, grabbed her waist and started swaying back and forth. If she was honest with herself, she could picture a life with Steve.

She could imagine traveling with Steve, purchasing a home with him in the suburbs.

She pictured buying a cute little 3 bedroom home in the Indiana suburbs - definitely away from Hawkins. She pictured the bright green grass and being surrounded by nice neighbors and even getting a pet.

She pictured starting a family with him, though, she would never tell him that, unless the time was right.

Back in the moment, she couldn’t stop laughing at Steve’s horrible singing.

“stop it,” she leaned her head back and let out a loud laugh

“stop what? singing?” he didn’t listen and kept singing along.

“you’re gonna make me fall in love with you if you keep singing like that,” she smiled.

Steve blushed, “we’re literally slow dancing in our underwear, i hope you know that i’m already in love with you.”

That’s all she ever wanted to hear from her best friend, “i’m in love with you.”

He wasted no time to press his lips to hers. they were just how she imagined he would taste: a mix of mint toothpaste and the coffee he drinks daily.

she reached her hands up to comb through his damp brunette hair and moaned into his mouth, urging him to shove his tongue in her mouth.

he gripped her waist, then her butt, then her thighs to feel every inch of her, what he wanted to do for years.

the two laid back down on the blanket and continued their assault on each other. he fit right between her legs, but knew that she didn’t want their first time to be on the muddy ground.

to take a breath from their make out session, he rested his forehead on hers and smiled.

“can i call you mine? all mine?” he asked, placing a piece of hair behind her ear.

“that’s all i’ve wanted, steve harrington.”

he reached up to grab at her breast but she stopped before she got too turned on.

“as much as i want to, take me back to your place and take me in your bed?” she said, kissing his neck and down to his chest.

she’s never seen him pack up so quickly.

#stranger things #my writings #my writing #stranger things 4 #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #friends to lovers #steve harrington smut #joe keery

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atlabeth · 10 months

Text

come on back to me - nikolai lantsov

summary: five times you save nikolai and one time he saves you.

a/n: if you've seen my thoughts as i read through siege and storm and ruin and rising then you know that i am deeply in love with nikolai lantsov and since ive finally finished the trilogy i finally feel qualified to write about him lmao. i actually don’t think i’ve written a 5+1 which is crazy so here you go. i wrote this in like 2 days in a spurt of inspiration and im absolutely in love with it, so i hope you all are too!!

title from you’re the one by greta van fleet

wc: 7.3k

warning(s): fem!reader, canon typical violence, siege and storm & ruin and rising book spoilers (i have not watched the show), medical inaccuracies, nikolai's volcra era, hurt/comfort and a happy ending (as usual)

Os Alta

It all happened rather quickly.

One moment, you were in the infirmary mending a poor soldier’s broken arm. The next, screams were erupting everywhere.

You and the soldier locked eyes, and you did a final bit of healing on his arm before you nodded at each other and darted off.

The soldier grabbed his gun and went further into the palace, no doubt to find the royal family, and you adjusted the collar of your kefta before you ran out into the fray.

Nichevo’ya had surrounded everything, attacking anyone they could find, and their shadowy bodies were like a void’s blight on the land. You knew the sight would be forever burned into your mind.

You knew the Darkling was going to march on Os Alta, that he would have to do it directly to use his shadow soldiers, but this was so much earlier, so much worse than you’d expected. Enforcements were meant to come from Poliznaya. You guessed that was off the table.

You were fine at fighting—alright with a pistol and better with a dagger—but you were a Healer. You spent more time dealing with the aftermaths of battles, more skilled at setting broken bones and mending bullet wounds than inflicting them.

Times like these were the ones when you normally questioned your decision to not hone your abilities into a Heartrender, but now you would at least be a dead man either way. Nichevo’ya didn’t exactly have hearts to stop and organs to manipulate.

You had to get to the other Grisha. You had to make sure the Sun Summoner made it through this attack, even if it meant you wouldn’t.

You broke into a sprint, trying your best to ignore the crippled and broken bodies in the carnage. Your instincts tugged against you, but you knew there was nothing to be done. If you stopped to help a dead man, you would soon join them.

You nearly battered into a group of people from your speed and lack of attention, and you reeled to the side seconds before a head-on collision. When you looked up, drawing in ragged breaths in the one second of rest you’d gotten, your eyes widened.

You were face to face with the royal family. The King, the Queen, and Nikolai Lantsov. The absence was glaring.

“Grisha,” Nikolai breathed, and he grabbed onto your shoulders like a madman as his fingers ran over the embroidery. He might as well have been one, the way wildfire flickered in his eyes. “You’re a Healer? One of Alina’s?”

You nodded rapidly. “Are you—”

“I’m getting them to safety on the Kingfisher,” he cut off, “and she wants me to get that old woman as well.”

“Baghra—?”

“You’re a Healer?” the King interrupted harshly. Your heart stuttered—you’d never been directly addressed by the King, but you supposed circumstances like these called for different standards.

“Yes,” you nodded. “Are you hurt?”

“My wife,” he said, and your attention turned to the Queen. Genya’s absence had taken a toll on her, and the shards of glass sticking out of her side weren’t doing her pallid frame any favors.

“Madraya,” Nikolai whispered, his eyes wide, “I didn’t even notice.”

“Alexander—” her voice was ragged, her entire appearance pallid— “we’ve much bigger concerns.”

“Nonsense.” The King’s gaze bore into you. “We have time. Heal her.”

You screwed your eyes shut, your hands closing into fists for a moment before both opened and you nodded. “Keep an eye out, moi tsarevich,” you huffed, and you moved to the Queen’s side. Nikolai’s head perked up for a moment at your words, but it disappeared just as quickly as he adjusted his grip on his pistol.

“Of course,” he said wryly. “Not that I don’t trust your work, and not that I don’t trust my abilities, but it would be grand if you could do this quickly.”

“Working as fast as I can,” you muttered, ignoring the noises the Queen made as you pulled the shards of glass out with little care. Your mentors would be rolling in their graves if they could see you.

“Vasily is dead, by the way,” Nikolai said, attention focused on the nichevo’ya all around. Thankfully, you’d run into each other in a spot relatively hidden from view. Hopefully it extended to shadow creatures. “I know you were wondering.”

Your hands faltered for a moment, but it was hardly noticeable as you continued to work. He wasn’t wrong. “I’m so sorry.”

The Queen choked back a sob, and the King’s face betrayed the slightest bit of emotion.

“An awful way to go,” Nikolai muttered, more to himself than anything. “But fitting that he brought about his own end.”

His parents said nothing to your surprise, but you stood up from your knees and nodded at the King and Queen. “She’s healed enough. No internal bleeding, at least.”

“Healed enough?” the King repeated. “That is not—”

“It’s the best we can hope for,” Nikolai interrupted sharply. “We’ve already wasted too much time out here.”

He then nodded, grasping your hands with fierce desperation. “The crown thanks you, darling.” You’d never seen him like this—you’d never seen him fear anything. The Darkling and his creations were a good start. “I thank you, truly.”

“Just doing my duty,” you assured, and you pulled a small container out of the pocket of your kefta, leftover from your work in the infirmary before it all went to hell, and pressed it into his hand. “She should be alright, but I’ve been slightly rushed. Rub this salve on her wounds when you’re out of danger just to be sure.”

Nikolai nodded again, slipping it into his own pocket. “Keep our Sun Summoner safe,” he said. “Or else this’ll have all been for nothing.”

You nodded. “With my life.”

Nikolai’s eyes met yours, and something unsaid passed between you. Then his hands slipped off of yours, and he continued to herd his parents away from the chaos. You muttered a quick prayer to any Saints that would listen for their safety, and then you head off on your own way.

2. The Pelican

You thought either the bones in your hands or the wood was going to crack with how tight you were holding onto the side of the ship. Your heart was still hammering away in your chest—the adrenaline from the battle and Nikolai Lantsov’s sudden appearance and being shot at a thousand different times by a thousand different militiamen still had you quite shaken.

You knew the sort of chaos you were in for when you made the decision to travel with Alina Starkov rather than stay in the White Cathedral, but you think you hated being in the air like this even more than you hated being trapped underground with those zealots.

Someone called your name, and you turned to see Adrik a while away with wide eyes. You huffed a sigh as you reluctantly let go and hastened your pace to catch up with him. If he was sent to fetch you, then someone needed healing, and you couldn’t exactly hold off on the one thing you were good at.

Adrik led you over to a corner of the Pelican where a large portion of your group of Grisha were gathered. Tamar was kneeling next to whoever was injured, one hand splayed above their chest, and you took a deep breath as you forced calmness to wash over your mind.

“What are we dealing with?” you asked Tamar, but it was clear enough when he spoke up.

“I’m telling you, it’s fine,” he insisted. “Just a flesh wound.”

“He was shot,” Tamar said dryly, “and he refuses to accept its severity.”

“So we meet again,” you said placidly.

Nikolai seemed to perk up when he saw you, any prior frustration absent from his face as he grinned at you and said your name. “If you’re the Healer here, then I guess I’m not so fine.”

“Am I ever going to be around you when you’re doing important princely things,” you said as you crouched on the other side of him, Tamar continuing to keep his heart rate steady, “or only when you’re injured?”

“This is a very important princely thing,” Nikolai said. “I’m showing my soon to be subjects that I’m just like them.”

“You were shot and you thought you were fine?” You let out a loose sigh and shook your head—it wasn’t worth getting into it. “Keep it steady, Tamar.”

She nodded, and you reached out to begin unbuttoning his outer coat. He wouldn’t stop shifting around, and it made it infinitely harder.

“Will you sit still?” you snapped.

“I am,” Nikolai said.

“You are not,” you asserted, and you undid the final button on his coat after a struggle, “and you are making this much more difficult.”

“My apologies,” he said. “Usually women that are taking off my clothes aren’t this angry with me.”

You scowled, only making his smile grow.

“You do it yourself if you want to be like that,” you said, letting your hands fall back to your side. “I’m sure the rest of your soldiers will listen to a Healer.”

“Ah, but none of them bravely threw themselves into danger for you,” Nikolai remarked. “I’m sure that earns me a few points.”

“Points that you’ve immediately lost by being this difficult with me.” You crossed your arms. “And you did not throw yourself into danger for me��you were in the battle and you got shot.”

“We came to save you all, and you are a part of it,” Nikolai said. “I’d say I definitely threw myself into danger for you.”

“You’re impossible.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Will you not even allow a dying man some honor?”

“You are not dying,” you said, “but you will be if you continue talking. Now take off your clothes and stop being so difficult so I can fix this up before you do die.”

He tutted as he shed his jacket and worked on the rest of his clothing. Princes were apparently fond of multiple layers. “For a Healer, your bedside manner is remarkably poor.”

“Don’t worry,” Nadia piped in, “she’s always been like this.”

“I have very fond memories of you healing my broken ribs,” Alina said dryly.

“All of you are still alive,” you said tartly with a glance back at your fellow Grisha, “aren’t you?”

“I think you made me wish I wasn’t,” Harshaw mused.

You scowled again and Nikolai laughed. “That bodes very well for me, considering how much I seem to irritate you.”

“You’re going to be fine,” you grumbled. When you turned back to him, he’d gotten down to his undershirt and unbuttoned it. Blood had spread across the white fabric, but apart from being shot, the wound wasn’t nearly as bad as it could have been. It’d had the chance to fester for a bit, but with Tamar’s aid it hopefully wouldn’t be a problem.

You took a deep breath as you placed your hands on his chest—lucky as always, you could sense the bullet missed all his major organs—but Nikolai grimaced before you could even do anything.

“Are you alright?”

“Your hands are very cold,” he said and you just shook your head.

“How no one has wrung you by the neck is beyond me.”

“Many have tried.” He flashed that smile again. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t add your name to the list.”

You ignored him, taking another deep breath before you closed your eyes. You felt your power within you, the tug you’d grown accustomed to over the years, and you focused it into a single point.

You slowly worked on healing Nikolai, making sure you went from the inside out to stop any internal bleeding before you carefully wedged the bullet out with your knife. Surprisingly, he managed to keep his mouth shut for the most part. He watched you the entire time though, wholly unyielding, and it was unnerving.

Nikolai covered up his pain remarkably well, but you still caught the slightest grimace when you practically stuck a dagger inside him.

“Do you always try to injure your patients more when you’re healing them?” he asked innocently.

“You typically don’t make fun of the person fixing you up,” you said, and you held up the knife, “or the one holding the blade.”

“Surely you could’ve used David to get it out,” Zoya offered lazily. “Better than practically stabbing the King of Ravka.”

“I’m not the king,” Nikolai said. “Not yet, at least.”

“And I’m not stabbing him.” You held up the bullet with your other hand, then let it fall to the floor. “I just didn’t feel like digging around inside him.”

Nikolai picked up the bullet, and you frowned in question. He just shrugged. “To hold onto the fond memories of this battle and the kindest, prettiest Healer I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

Someone snickered behind you, and you turned to see all of them just standing around—Zoya, Harshaw with Oncat perched on his shoulder, Adrik ignoring his sister to watch, even Alina and Mal were still there. At least Tamar had enough sense to stay quiet while she helped you.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” you snapped. “It’s hard to focus with you all watching me.”

Alina blinked, seeming to come back to her senses. You almost didn’t blame her—she had so much on her shoulders, it made sense to just want to stand and stare for a minute.

“Right,” she nodded, and she gestured at Zoya and the Squaller siblings as she started walking across the ship, “Adrik, Nadia, I need you all over…”

Alina's words trailed off as she got farther away, and the small crowd dissipated to find duties to carry out without their Sun Summoner to indulge their whims.

“Thank you for your help, Tamar,” you mumbled. “I can take it from here.”

She nodded and went off to join the others—the controlled state Nikolai had been in dissolved as she let go of the hold she had on his heart, and the slight daze in his eye went away.

“Are you always this mean?” Nikolai asked. You turned back to find him with that same unshakable confidence, same lazy smile even in the face of it all. It was no wonder noble and commoner girls alike tripped over themselves when he returned to Ravka.

It was no wonder Alina fell for his charms despite the tracker by her side—he always knew the right thing to say to make you feel like everything would be okay, and in the midst of Ravka’s endless war, that was a valuable quality indeed.

“I save it for irritating princes,” you remarked. With a final flourish, his wound was sewed up, and Nikolai raised his eyebrows as he touched the newly healed skin.

There was another slight wince, but he still smiled up at you. “Excellent job.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” you said.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to Grisha handiwork,” Nikolai said as he pulled himself up from the side of the ship. “Especially the healing kind.”

“It would do you good not to get used to it,” you said. “You may not be king yet, but Zoya is right. I’d appreciate it if you tried to stay out of my infirmary.”

“Do you not enjoy my company?” he asked.

“I don’t enjoy bringing Ravka’s only heir back from the brink after every battle,” you corrected. “You’ve got a lot more weight on your shoulders now, moi tsarevich.”

His eyebrows furrowed slightly at your Ravkan. “Say that again.”

You frowned, wondering if you’d heard him correctly. Nikolai continued staring at you, so you sighed. “Moi tsarevich?”

He laughed, and that only soured your mood further. “What are you laughing about?”

“I recognized it back during the attack but I didn’t fully think about it,” he said. “It comes out the most with your R’s. You’re not Ravkan, are you?”

You paused at his sudden subject change. “You were focusing on my accent when everyone was dying around us?”

“Answer the question.”

Your frown deepened. “I am in most senses of the word.”

Nikolai’s eyes narrowed. “You’re Kerch.”

Your lips twitched. “Yes, but I don’t—”

“You still haven’t lost the accent somehow,” he continued. “At least, in how you speak certain Ravkan words. Is it Ketterdam?”

“Don’t you have better things to do than quiz your Healer on her childhood?”

“Perhaps,” Nikolai said, eyes twinkling, “but if you’re really my Healer, as you said yourself, I’m surely allowed to ask as many questions as my heart desires.”

“Your heart desires no more,” you said wryly. “I have other injured to attend to. Call if you find yourself actively dying.”

To his credit, he didn’t try to fight it. Just offered that same smile that weakened knees from the Kaelish to the Shu. “I’ll be sure to ring before I’m dead and buried.”

“Put your clothes back on before you do,” you said.

“Ah, but isn’t this your reward for putting up with the irritating prince?” Nikolai asked with a slight gesture at his chest. “I’d imagine you’d want to keep an eye on your handiwork.”

That sparked a rare smile of your own, and you bowed your head. “Moi tsarevich,” you said before you walked off.

You felt Nikolai’s eyes on you even as you approached an injured First Army soldier, and after the first few preliminary questions you couldn’t help but look back.

When you did, he was gone.

3. Monastery of Sankt Demyan

You sat on the Spinning Wheel, off to the corner so you wouldn’t be disturbing anyone, staring at your hands as you tried to ignore the thousands of things bumping around in your mind. You’d been on the run with the Sun Summoner and a smattering of other Grisha for longer than you would have liked, but you had to accept that this was what life would be like until the Darkling was either defeated or destroyed you all.

It was a damning sort of fate, knowing what awaited you unless the impossible was done. At least it would be quick if the nichevo’ya tore you apart.

You grimaced. That was one thought that would do you no good—if you’d made it this far, from Os Alta under the Darkling’s control to Os Alta under Lantsov control to the White Cathedral and now to Fjerda of all places, what was one more piece of the puzzle?

A very big piece of the puzzle, of course, and there was still the intrinsic distrust that some soldiers—and even Alina at moments, flickers of it you could see in her eyes against her will—had towards you. You, like the rest of the Grisha here that hailed from the Second Army, served the Darkling until you’d switched sides. You wanted nothing more than to see the Darkling to his grave, for Ravka to be restored and for all of this to be over.

But you had switched sides in the first place, and you knew enough from the looks of those soldiers—they still believed that if you could betray the Darkling, you could always still betray the Sun Summoner if given enough cause.

You didn’t try to dissuade their views through words; it wouldn’t do any good. You just hoped the long hours you spent holed up in the infirmary healing the injured would. You missed Maxim if only so you wouldn’t have to do it all alone.

“Vlachka for your thoughts?”

You looked up, surprised to see Nikolai Lantsov of all people. You hadn’t held a true conversation with him since you healed him after his bullet wound. He’d been busy with princely things like banishing his parents and saving Genya’s livelihood.

You were thankful for that, at least. She’d suffered too much at the hands of the Darkling and the King.

“You’d need a lot more than that,” you said.

He smiled. “I’ve got quite a bit. Have you seen this place?”

You chuckled and shrugged. “Just thinking. About our next move, about the Darkling, about what will be after this.”

“You certainly aren’t the only one,” Nikolai said. “Lately it seems to be all anyone can think about.”

“I’m sure you’d much rather have them thinking of you,” you said wryly.

“Oh, there’s plenty of that going on as well.” Nikolai smiled. “An even balance, I’d say.”

You chuckled again. “What brings you here, Nikolai?”

He shrugged. “I wanted to get to know my Healer.”

You huffed a sigh and looked away. “Why do you call me that?”

He was awfully good at feigning innocence. “Call you what?”

“My Healer,” you repeated. “Your Healer. I don’t understand it.”

“I like the sound of it,” he said. “I’ll stop if you don’t like it.”

You felt your cheeks heat and you felt his eyes on you. “It’s not that. It’s just—”

“Because I can,” he continued. “Would you prefer lapushka? Milaya? Perhaps babya.”

You scowled as you turned back to him, and you hit him lightly on the shoulder. “You should stick to the seas and the throne, moi tsarevich. Comedy is not your strong suit.”

“I like it when you call me that,” he mused. “I like your accent, your voice.” He sat down next to you, mildly unexpected, and you hoped you did better at hiding your surprise than it felt. “There’s something soothing about it.”

“I am from Ketterdam,” you said after a moment. “You guessed right. Born and raised. When my abilities started showing, my parents put me on a ship to Ravka with a map, some vlachki, and the clothes on my back. I made my way to the Little Palace, pleaded my case to the Darkling, and I haven’t seen them since.”

Nikolai was silent, and you fully turned to look at him. “You wanted to know more about me. That’s who I am. A girl from Ketterdam in over her head.”

“Give yourself some credit,” Nikolai said. “You’re a woman from Ketterdam in over your head.”

You huffed a laugh, and Nikolai’s expression softened a bit. “Why did they send you away? If that’s alright to ask, of course.”

You shrugged. “Being a young girl in the Barrel is bad enough. If anyone figured out I was Grisha, I would either be dead in the streets, indentured before I could blink, or worse.”

“They thought it would be safer in Ravka,” he guessed. “In the Second Army.”

You nodded. “They couldn’t have known any of this would happen,” you said dryly.

“Do you miss your parents?” he asked.

“Every day,” you said quietly. “We sent letters when we could, but it was never enough. And those stopped after Alina left the Little Palace, obviously.”

You didn’t need to recount the months of the Darkling’s madness as he searched for his Sun Summoner. Nikolai might have been Sturmhond at the time, but you didn’t doubt that he had contacts in the Little Palace. You didn’t exactly want to remember it either.

“How about this?” Nikolai adjusted his position so he could look right at you, those smart hazel eyes enough to get lost in. You forced yourself not to. “On the slim chance that we make it through these next few weeks, when the dust has settled and I’m officially King, I’ll charter a ship for you back to Ketterdam.”

Your head whirled back to look at him, eyes widening. There was no sign in his eyes of a false promise, only that soft smile, charming as ever. You had the sudden, misplaced urge to wind your fingers into those blonde curls and kiss him.

“You’d do that for me?”

He nodded. “Of course. Only the best for my Healer, right?”

That got a laugh out of you, but the heat rose to your cheeks all the same. “That would be incredible, Nikolai. Thank you.”

“Of course.”

He looked—gazed— at you for a touch longer than usual before he spoke again.

“There’s going to be a meteor shower later tonight,” Nikolai said. “One of my crew figured it out—he’s very fond of the sky, and he told me it would be… quite the sight.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. Was he—

“I’d like to watch it with you,” Nikolai continued. “Of course, I have to put on a display with Alina, but after that,” he looked over at you, hazel eyes gleaming, “I’d like to spend the night with you.”

It took a moment for your brain to fully process his words. “Moi tsarevich, are… you asking me on a— a date?”

“Just Nikolai, please,” he said with a grin. “And yes, I am.”

It seemed so trivial in the scheme of things. You were leading an impossible battle against the Darkling, and as a traitor to his throne, you would end up dead or worse if he caught you. The near entirety of the Second Army was dead, friends you’d grown up and honed your power alongside with ripped apart by nichevo’ya. Your chances for victory relied on the firebird, and no one knew a damn thing about it.

It was trivial. It was frankly ridiculous, for the prince— the King of Ravka—to be asking you on a date, especially when it was imperative for him to present a certain image with Alina.

But for all the triviality and ridiculousness and idiocy, you found that you’d never wanted to accept something so badly.

So you did. You nodded, smiled, brighter than usual. Nikolai seemed to have that effect on you.

“I’d love to.”

“Wonderful.” Somehow, impossibly, his grin grew bigger. Nikolai took your hand and pressed a delicate kiss to it before he stood back up—you’d never been so thankful for his confidence, because you found yourself at a loss for words. “I’ll see you tonight, darling. Try not to get into too much trouble without me.”

You nodded again, and you knew you looked like a dazed idiot. The better half of a decade spent training as a Grisha and all it took was a kiss to your hand for your brain to stop working. You really had been at war for far too long.

Nikolai could tell every thought—or lack thereof—in your head by the overly pleased expression he wore as he walked away, and your entire face burned as you bit back your smile.

He knew exactly what he did to you.

4. The Bittern

Sergei sold you out.

That son of bitch had betrayed you all to the Darkling the first chance he got, and he’d been rewarded with a quicker death than any of you would get.

You’d been left fighting for your lives against the Darkling’s oprichniki, Grisha, and nichevo’ya alike, and as usual, you were hopelessly outnumbered. You knelt over Adrik as Zoya, Nadia, Harshaw, and David kept the crowd of enemies back, doing your damnedest to keep him from bleeding out from his nichevo’ya bite.

His arm hung at a bizarre angle, and you didn’t know how you would tell him and his sister you didn’t think you could save it. You were sure Genya’s whispered words were the only thing keeping him even slightly calm.

By the time the Bittern was in the air, precarious but afloat, you were about ready to collapse. It had all been too damn much, with the Darkling and Baghra and Nevsky, and now the poor schoolboy lying beneath you with an arm you couldn’t save.

“He’ll be okay,” you murmured to nobody but yourself, wiping beads of sweat from your forehead as you laid against the side of the ship. As okay as any boy who lost his arm to a shadow monster and went through what he just did.

Thank the Saints for Tolya keeping both Adrik’s and your heart steady during that ordeal, because you were sure your panic would have won over.

Everyone in your motley crew was injured in some way or another, and you were the only Healer. Soon you were back on your feet, pushing the horrors of the night out of your mind as you mended lacerations and fixed up bullet wounds.

Every so often, your eyes would drift over to Adrik. You’d healed him the best you could, but it wasn’t enough.

And then your mind went to Nikolai.

Nikolai.

In the chaos of the battle and the subsequent healing haze, you hadn’t even realized he wasn’t with your group. The Pelican had taken off before you all got to the Bittern, but Nikolai wouldn’t have left Alina on her own after all he’d done to ensure her safety.

You were almost too scared to ask, but you did anyway.

“Alina,” you asked, slightly surprised at the sound of your voice in the silence of the night, “where’s Nikolai?”

Her eyes were unfocused, arms crossed around her midsection for warmth despite the light that glowed beneath her skin. “The Darkling,” she murmured.

“Wh— what did he do to him?” you continued. “What in the Saints’ name happened to him, Alina?”

“He ruined him,” she whispered. “He turned him into a monster.” The look on Alina’s face broke you into even smaller pieces. “He turned him into a monster all because Nikolai dared to stand against him. He’s gone.”

Your grip tightened on the side of the ship as she explained what she had to watch, and your knees threatened to buckle.

Maybe it was stupid, but you hadn’t even realized you cared this much about the prince. The king, you had to keep reminding yourself. But the thought of him hurt—a hurt that you couldn’t heal—it tore your heart to shreds.

Only last night you were laying on a blanket next to him, staring up at the meteor shower through the glass dome. He’d never looked more beautiful than he did then, with the streaks of light illuminating his handsome features and those hazel eyes you’d grown to appreciate.

Few words had passed between the two of you, but once Nikolai had taken your hand in his, neither of you let go for the remainder of the night. That urge to kiss him came back in spades, but you never acted on it.

Saints, you wished you had.

“Do you think you can heal him?” Your voice sounded oddly foreign, but you didn’t even feel like you were in your body. Like you were watching it all happen from above, because this couldn’t have been happening. Not to Nikolai— to your Nikolai.

You were his Healer, and he was your Nikolai. That was how it was supposed to be.

“I don’t know,” Alina admitted, her tone strained. “My light might be able to help, but… but whenever I’ve used it against the nichevo’ya, against the volcra, I— it kills them.”

Her voice broke on the last few words, and you wanted to hug her. Alina didn’t love him, you knew that much, but anyone could tell she’d grown close to Nikolai over the months. She was hurting just as much as you.

You didn’t. You found that you couldn’t do much but stare into the night sky.

He was all alone. Forced into a monster, and now he was all alone.

It felt like ages before the Bittern finally landed, everyone’s teeth stained rust-orange and bones run deep with exhaustion. Everyone was still alive when you woke up the next morning, and after another check-up on Adrik, you went off into the woods under the guise of searching for kindling.

Really, you needed some time to yourself. After what had happened—Sergei’s betrayal, losing even more Grisha when you had little to start with, Baghra’s sacrifice, Adrik and his arm, and— and Nikolai—

It was too much. It was just too damn much.

You’d never gotten close like this to anyone before, never moved further than some useless flirtations and a few stolen kisses with various Grisha when you were bored back at the Little Palace, and when you finally did, with the damned future King of Ravka, this is what happened.

Guilt tore away at you as you plodded through the woods, and you let the tears you’d been holding back all night fall. You wished you’d been there for him. You wished you’d kissed him. You wished you were strong enough to take the Darkling down on your own for what he’d done.

The hairs stood up on the back of your neck, and you heard the rustling of branches. You whirled around to the source of the sound, taking a few steps to peer through the trees, and that was when you saw it.

Your eyes widened and your heart cracked all at once.

“Nikolai,” you whispered.

You’d have recognized him anywhere. Despite the shadowy veins splintering across his chest, the wings furled behind his back, claws and fangs in place of fingers and teeth—he was still your Nikolai. His blonde curls remained, his sharp cheekbones and strong jaw, even his clever eyes—even if they were black instead of hazel.

The smear of blood around his mouth was a sharp contrast to it all. You wondered what—or who—had become his unlucky victim when he could no longer control his hunger.

Nikolai didn’t move as you stepped closer. His dark gaze was unreadable and you wanted to sob for what the Darkling had done to him.

“It’s me.” You continued to speak softly as you moved closer, saying your name in hopes of even a spark of recognition. “Your Healer.”

His eyes followed your movements, his gaze falling down to your hands. He pointed at them with a clawed talon.

You held them up. “My hands?”

You realized the blood around his mouth wasn’t the only bit of it on his body as your eyes trailed across his bare chest. There were cuts all across his arms and chest, most small but some deeper. He pointed at a thin scar near his abdomen, the only sign of the bullet wound you’d stitched up.

He wanted you to heal him. He knew who you were.

This time, a small sob escaped you, and your hand flew up almost on instinct to cover it. You brushed the tears brimming in your eyes as you moved closer to him, and you gently placed your hand on his arm. You felt his limb stiffen for a moment before they relaxed, and you couldn’t help your small smile. Your Nikolai was still there.

The thin cut vanished as you healed it, and you continued to do the same for the myriad of other injuries on his body. You felt his gaze on you the entire time, and some part of it was comforting. Nikolai was still there—his humanity was still there. This was the least you could do to make him feel the part.

Once you’d healed up the last of his wounds, you felt the glow of Grisha power inside of you. Nikolai grabbed onto your hand the moment you’d finished, and you looked up into his dark eyes as your fingers clasped around his talons.

“We’ll figure this out, Nikolai,” you whispered. “I promise.”

The corner of his lips curled up ever so slightly, the barest sign of the old smile you’d grown to love.

And then he let go of your hand, and he shot up into the air. It took only seconds for him to disappear, but your gaze remained stuck in place.

All you could think of was Nikolai’s dark eyes and the shattered shadows beneath his skin, the feel of his taloned hand in yours.

You would find a way to bring him back. You knew that much.

5. The Shadow Fold

“For Saint’s sake— catch him, Zoya!”

“You screeching at me isn’t helping,” she snarled, her hands held out above her as she summoned wind to break Nikolai’s fall.

It was almost laughable, how Alina ended it all with a bit of stabbing. First Mal, then the Darkling—now Soldat Sol and oprichniki alike were glowing like human lamps around the Fold. The nichevo’ya dissolved with the Darkling’s power, the same thing that created Nikolai’s monster—you screamed in general when you first saw him falling, and then you screamed at Zoya. It was a credit to her growth that she didn’t slap you first.

Thankfully, the updraft did its job, and he only landed in the sand at concerning speeds rather than very concerning.

You ran for him without thinking, not even feeling the jolt in your ankles as you lept from the skiff onto the sands. You no longer had to fear the Fold—the various Sun Soldiers that had gotten Alina’s powers had done away with the remainder in no time—and even if you did, you would brave a thousand volcra for Nikolai.

He looked so small, so vulnerable laying there in the sand, only clad in torn pants and a myriad of bruises. The last of the shadows receded when you finally reached him, and you didn’t try to stop the tears as they flowed freely down your cheeks.

“Nikolai,” you whispered, falling to your knees in the sand next to him, “Nikolai, can you hear me?”

You cradled his head in your hands, tears splattering in the sand around you, and then his eyes opened.

His beautiful hazel eyes opened and looked right at you, his lips tugging into a smirk as he said your name.

“Would you say this is an important princely thing?” His voice was husky, damaged from whatever dark thing that had taken a hold of him, but the usual lilt was there. “Or just another injury?”

You broke into full on sobs, unabashedly and unashamed as you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him into a hug. You felt his arms around you as well, and he rubbed circles on your back.

“I had time to think,” Nikolai murmured, “and I think I’ll settle on lapushka.”

Darling.

You couldn’t help but laugh, and you moved away from him just so you could look at him, gaze at him, never forget his beautiful features.

“I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“I knew I would be,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “I had you looking out for me.”

“Stop,” you said, your voice watery. “I can’t keep crying in front of you.”

“I think you’ve more than earned it, lapushka.”

You laughed again as you shook your head. “How do you feel? Can you still move all your limbs?”

Nikolai took his hand in yours, fingers intertwining with yours. His gaze didn’t move from you. “Limbs are fine.”

You let your smile shine unabashed as you squeezed his hand, thankful for the lack of talons. “Can you sit up?”

Nikolai visibly winced at the effort, but he managed with your help. “My chest hurts quite a bit.”

“You’ve definitely broken some ribs,” you murmured, “but it’s nothing I can’t fix up.”

“There’s nothing you can’t fix,” Nikolai said.

“Careful with all the praise. I might get used to it.”

“Good.”

You glanced over to see Tolya and Zoya moving across the sand towards you and you looked back at Nikolai.

“We’re going to get you back on the skiff, Nikolai,” you said. “I’ll get you healed up and then we’ll get you some clothes. Alright?”

“I told you,” Nikolai said, “this is your reward for putting up with the irritating prince.”

“That was for the prince,” you said, running a hand through his blonde curls to untangle them. “My reward for putting up with irritating kings is to make sure they’re clothed and healed.”

His smile shone brighter than anything Alina could conjure up.

The Darkling’s Skiff

You ended up below deck with Nikolai, Tolya, an unconscious Alina and Mal, and the Darkling’s body. It normally wouldn’t have been a cheery atmosphere, but you were just thankful to be alive after all you’d done. Thankful that Nikolai was alive and himself and that the Darkling was dead.

A First Army uniform was folded next to Nikolai’s makeshift cot where you sat next to him, and Tolya’s companionable silence was appreciated as he stayed by Alina and Mal to ensure they stayed alive.

“You broke a few ribs in your fall,” you murmured, your hands placed on his chest, “but overall, I’d say you made out pretty well.”

“Yes,” Nikolai said wryly, looking at his hands. Faint black lines ran across each of his fingers, where claws had torn through his skin. Though the other shadowy marks had faded, these appeared to be permanent. “Pretty well.”

“You know what I mean, Nikolai.” You moved your hand over his ribs and focused your power—by the slight grimace on his face, the itch that came along with Grisha healing, you knew they were mending back together. “You’re still alive. You’re you again. That means everything.”

“And your hands are still freakishly cold,” he mused. You smiled.

A moment passed before he spoke again.

“You know,” Nikolai said, and you felt his eyes on you again, “I remember everything. Everything that I did when I was that… that thing.”

Your throat bobbed, but you nodded, encouraging him on.

“I went to you,” he said, “and… you helped me. You weren’t afraid—you understood what I meant, and you healed me.”

“Of course I did,” you said softly. A smile tugged at your lips. “I am your Healer, after all.”

Nikolai placed his hand over one of yours, and your power wavered for a moment as your heart stuttered.

“One of your ribs is still broken, Nikolai,” you said. “I have to—”

“I love you,” he interrupted. Your eyes snapped to him, and you thought you misheard him.

“What?”

“I love you,” he repeated, as if it came as easily to him as breathing. “Forgive me for the lack of ballads and sonnets on how to express it—I plan to remedy that as soon as we’re back in Os Alta. But I love you, and it’s the one thing I’m sure of at this moment.”

You continued to stare at him, as if you’d suddenly forgotten how to speak. Nikolai was no Corporalnik, but you were sure he could hear how loudly your heart was beating.

“It’s alright if you don’t feel the same,” Nikolai said, “or if you’re not ready. I’m a very patient man.”

It was like your limbs had suddenly regained the ability to move, because something clicked in your mind. You took his face in your hands and you kissed him with a brazen fierceness you didn’t even know you had.

For a man with two bruised ribs and one broken one, he kissed you back with the same intensity, if not more. You poured all your fear, all your anxiety, all your worries about him into the kiss, reveling in the warmth of his lips and his hands and—

Tolya cleared his throat. “We’re nearly out of the Fold.”

You pulled away as quickly as it had started, Nikolai looking very pleased with himself as you fixed the collar of your kefta and looked over at him with eyes that were surely more pupil than iris.

“Thank you, Tolya,” you said, and you cleared your throat as well. Good of him to ignore the two of you. Embarrassing of you to nearly forget about your surroundings when you looked at Nikolai.

“Yes,” Nikolai said, mirth in his voice, “thank you, Tolya.”

You rolled your eyes as you turned back to him, your lips still burning from his kiss, and you settled your hands back on Nikolai’s chest.

“No more interruptions,” you said. “I’ve got to get you healed and dressed before we’re off the sand.”

His eyes twinkled. “Whatever you say, lapushka.”

You had no idea what was next. The Sun Summoner died on the Fold, the Darkling’s reign of terror was finally over, and Nikolai was to be King. You didn’t know where you would fit in, though you were sure he would find a place.

But you loved Nikolai, and by the Saints, Nikolai loved you.

And for now, that was more than enough.

#nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov x you #nikolai lantsov x y/n #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov fic #nikolai lantsov fluff #nikolai lantsov angst #nikolai lantsov the love of my life #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone fic #grishaverse x reader #sadie writes

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chosetherose · 10 days

Note

"The Alchemy" = Karlie's POV of how she's going to take Taylor from Travis?

"I haven't come around in so long

But I'm making a comeback to where I belong"

Karlie showing up at the Eras Tour! Taylor didn't spend long enough with either of the beards for "so long" to make any sense as being about them. How do you make a comeback when you're barely a thing to begin with? Karlie's comeback was headline news though.

"So when I touch down

Call the amateurs and cut 'em from the team

Ditch the clowns, get the crown"

Her football fan baby ("fly like a jet stream") is touching down and coming to sweep away the understudies, users, narcissists and clowns. King of my Heart coming to reclaim her crown! We can only hope 🙏

"Cause the sign on your heart says it's still reserved for me"

Taylor can rewrite history all she wants, but Tratty was never a thing and no-one with a brain can buy the idea that he was the love of her life ten years ago, while Kissgate was happening right in front of him. Peak Kaylor era. When we all saw with our own eyes how she looked at Karlie! But, no, it was Matty all along! Sure, Jan.

Meanwhile, even the "anyone but Karlie" Gaylors who hate her can't deny Taylor has been writing songs about Karlie for a decade now. Even they think she's not over her. So who "still" has Taylor's heart and could make a comeback? Mmhmm.

"I circled you on a map"

Flashback to Taylor highlighting Kaylor-related towns on the weather map in the Lavender Haze music video. Uh-huh.

"Who are we to fight the alchemy?"

Alchemy is the process of turning things into gold. Are we really going to sit here and pretend this isn't Ms Gold Rush, Ms "it's like your eyes are liquor, it's like your body is gold"? Are we really going to pretend Karlie hasn't been gold coded since the beginning? But no! This is about Travis! Totally! Does your blindfold fit snugly enough, babe, or do you want me to tighten it some more for you? 🙄

"Hey, what if I told you we're cool

That child's play back in school

Is forgiven under my rule?"

The child's play is the bearding. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes. It's getting so old to never grow up. Karlie is saying it all means nothing.

"These blokes warm the benches

We've been on a winning streak"

Her British beards have just been keeping Karlie's seat warm. While she and Taylor have privately been on a winning streak.

(Seriously, the construction of this song makes no sense if you believe it's about Travis. How could she have been "on a winning streak" with him, while "these blokes" were present-tense warming the benches? Or are we supposed to believe they're just waiting on the sidelines for Taylor to get back with one of them? Even though things are so great with 🚜 and she's said multiple times she doesn't want that? So . . . how is any of this working, exactly? What benches are they warming? Are we SURE the "we" is Travis? Hmm?)

"He jokes it's heroin but this time with an e"

People are so distracted by this "dig at Matty" they can't see what's right in front of their faces. Heroin with an e = heroine. As in, the female hero of a story. The joke is that the one to "save" Taylor won't be any of these jokers dressing up as kings. It's a woman. A HEROINE. Not a hero.

And then we get a football metaphor everyone will assume is about Travis, even though Karlie's love of football is well-documented. Do we really think Travis cares more about the beard he's made his meal ticket than he does about winning a trophy? Yeah, right. The days of wasted celebration with no Taylor in sight really give that impression. The thirst traps he was liking on Instagram while "dating" Taylor really show he only has eyes for her. Totally.

Meanwhile we have a million songs where Taylor tells us all her obviously-Karlie lover ever wanted was her.

I can't see The Alchemy any other way than as a Karlie comeback song. Bring it home, Karlie! We're all rooting for you! Go! Fight! Win! 🏆

Wow, Anon! I love this take! Lots of food for thought.

#CTRask

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chocsra · 9 months

Text

"Gentleman, you say?"

15! Chuuya x reader

Reader is implied to be fem!, could still be gn!

Warnings: swearing, alcohol

Contents: your mafioso roomate being annoying, fifteen era, mafia! reader, pre-relationship, idiots in love, teen romance, fluff, ooc? chuuya (idk)

Sorry for grammar! Not proofread!

Working in the Port Mafia wasn't so hard.

You were granted a new family, money and status. There were a select few members who were noteably young, as young as teenagers. This was mainly because of the gifted, limiting manpower into making criminal organizations choose children as their subordinates.

You didn't really mind it--being a kid in the mafia. It had it's ups and downs, yes, you did murder; but what would you have been really doing if you tried to live as a civilian as a gifted?

One thing you didn't like though--even hated, was the Port Mafia dormitory.

Constant parties, the overwhelming scent of alcohol and cigarettes in hallways, and don't start on the drama. Your only source of peace was the empty unit next to yours--at least that gave some sort of silence in the dreadful nights of Yokohama. Cramped in the tight apartment that secretly held mafioso teenagers, ones which the other residents thought of as school delinquents.

Until that asshole took it; the short ginger boy with a permanent scowl on his face, the boy who had the best style you had ever seen. And you hated it. Ever since you were fifteen, he and his smelly bandaged friend would storm into his apartment; have the loudest arguments--no, fights in the middle of the night.

Before, if you couldn't sleep, a nice cup of hot milk and basking in the night's breeze would do the trick. Now, there was a 50/50 chance he was there smoking on the balcony next to you, alone or with that annoying mummy boy.

It's been a few months since then, and you were sure that he hasn't even recognized you once as his neighbour; and it pissed you off, considering the amount of sleepless nights he caused you. It was safe to say you had one-sided-beef with the boy who used screaming as his fight or flight response.

And because finding someone absolutely insufferable meant asking numerous people about them, you asked a few of your subordinates who were into drama about said boy, eager to learn more information about him. Because he pissed you off, is why.

"Oh, you mean Chuuya? He like, used to be the King of the Sheep before he joined the mafia, I'm pretty sure." Your friend chided, you and a few other girls were standing in front the doorframe of Kouyou's office, all surrounded in a circle. "Really? That's wild." You scoffed, folding your arms over your chest. "Yeah, and the guy who recruited him is that emo guy; he's supposed to be Bosses successor, right?" She asks, twirling a strand of her hair. "His name is Dazai, and yeah. They're called 'Double Black' or something." Your other friend joined in.

Just as you were talking, a tall woman with ginger hair and pale skin stepped out of her office; her elegent hands clasped together under her pink kimono.

"What are you girls talking about?" The woman questioned, her hair tightly held up by long gold pins. "[Y/N] was just asking about Chuuya, sis." Your friend replied, you scoffed in response. "I was just asking because he's an annoying neighbour!" The other girls laughed. "Oh, Chuuya, I was recently requested to take him under my wing." Kouyou responded, revealing more information. "Actually? What do you think of him?" One of the quieter girls asked enthusiastically, the woman only chuckled in response.

"He's quite the gentleman, I'll say."

Kouyou's words only echoed in your ears as you lay in bed, a pillow ontop of your chest. "Gentleman.." You repeat, staring mindlessly at the ceiling. "Gentleman my ass!" You kick the wall next to your bed to no avail, tightly wrapping your arms around the pillow. "If he was, he would've seen how tired my eyes are from not sleeping.. and finally shut the fuck up.." You mutter with heavy eyelids. It was around 2 am. And it was one of those quiet nights, thankfully; but you still had trouble falling asleep.

As you were about to finally drift off to sleep, cradling your pillow in your arms; a loud strum of a guitar sprung you awake. It sounded like a electric guitar, and the person playing it had a shit ton of energy. A sultry voice sang melodically as loud waves of music crashed from his guitar. You had an idea of who it was.

Storming out of your cramped apartment, only in a thin t-shirt along with loose shorts, you scrammed over to Chuuya's apartment door angerly. "I swear to God.." You curse under your breath, the damn guitar still audible. Closing your fist, you firmly knock on the boy's door.

Knock, knock

The fast-paced strum of a rock song quickly stopped, light footsteps could be heard behind the steel shaft, before he finally unlocks it.

"Yeah?" The boy cracks the door open, he had his short ginger hair down; and he wasn't wearing the black fedora and choker like he usually did. A red and white electric base guitar slung lightly over his shoulder and stomach, the cord connected to the bottom, leading to what you assumed was his bedroom. Chuuya was wearing loose black sweatpants along with an oversized white t-shirt. Even though the boy was small and lean, you couldn't help but notice the exposed muscles on his forearms. 'Shit.' You cursed at yourself, before meeting his stormy blue eyes once more.

"You're so damn loud all the time, can't you play that at another time of day?" You huffed, crossing your arms. "There are people trying to sleep." It wasn't the safest option to yell at a criminal who had possible connections you had no idea of, but you were also a criminal, and would definitely kick his ass if he tried anything, right?

Chuuya looked at you with a slight frown, but you were right in the end, so he sighed and ran his lithe fingers through his ginger locks. "My bad." He mutters, feeling a bit embarrassed. "That's all you can say?" You murmur, you felt a little bad, but he was the waking cause of your terrible eyebags. "You could be a little more quiet next time." You add on, looking off to the side.

"Yeah, I know. My fault." The redhead said, apologizing begrudgingly. You only sighed and assured it's okay now before you soon left. Knowingly storming off into your apartment as the boy watched you with guilt yet irritation on his face.

Although the next morning, you rubbed your eyes and opened the door to take out the trash. Only noticing a small box infront of your doorstep with a yellow sticky note on it, you crouched down to properly read it.

'Sorry we had to meet that way, neigbour. Take this as a peace offering.

- Chuuya N.'

As you opened the box curiously, it was homemade packaged bento, along with a small corgi made out of rice on the side. The stupidity of it made you laugh a little. Even though his handwriting made you question if he knew how to write at all before this; a smile still crept on your face as you took the box and note inside.

"Quite the gentleman, huh?"

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #15 chuuya #bsd chuuya #bsd x reader #chuuya nakahara #chuuya x reader #pm dazai #teen romance #romance #fluff #15 light novel bsd #bsd fanfic #chuuya nakahara x reader #bsd fifteen #dark era bsd #Spotify

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bibuck-saved-me · 3 months

Text

it’s a selfish thought and arthur knows it because merlin has spent so much time hiding a vital part of his existence, his very being, all because of arthur. so he presses it down into the deepest recesses of himself and focuses on doing everything he can to support merlin, to give merlin the world he deserves. a world where he is free.

but sometimes, when he’s alone in his room surrounded by his endless responsibilities, he will think to himself, i am nothing.

merlin and the old religion hold him as this once and future king, but no matter what they say, he can’t understand why they think any of this is about him. it was never him. everything he’d done, every accomplishment and fight he’d won had never been his to claim. he was a fraud. he was a lonely king with nothing to his name beyond the blood on his hands, the blood staining his every crevice.

he isn’t the once and future king. he doesn’t deserve any of the praise. he is the moon, a piece of rock in the sky that shines only because of the sun. without the sun, the moon is worthless. without the sun, no one would have ever looked at the moon twice.

arthur had never been proud of his mistakes and his inaction when it came to his father’s slaughter, but he had been proud of the things he had done to keep his kingdom and his people safe and healthy and happy. he has fought and fought and fought only to discover he had never even landed a punch. every knockout, every victory he had held up to hide the ugly nothingness of his true, empty self was never his to hold. with the discovery of merlin’s magic, any worthiness he thought he’d earned had slipped through his fingers like sand through a sieve.

merlin is beautiful and powerful. merlin is a god amongst men, a gift given to this world, given to arthur, and for what?

this prophecy for arthur was always about merlin. he carried the weight, he fought and fought and fought and he won, merlin was the one who had carried this kingdom on his back until they reached the safety of the golden era of the current day.

it’s a selfish thought, to be thinking of himself in relation to merlin’s magic when merlin has suffered every single day because of arthur. and yet, in those moments, he can’t help but wonder why he was born at all, why he was named savior of a group of people who would’ve never died if only he had stayed unmade, a whisper of nothingness in his mother’s womb.

his first breath caused a massacre, a genocide, and yet he was given an angel and a title and a prophecy of greatness he could never actually fulfill.

he would never tell merlin about these thoughts he had. merlin would end up feeling guilty somehow, would carry the weight of arthur’s worthlessness even more by taking on the deserved revulsion arthur had for himself.

no, he couldn’t tell merlin about this. merlin would tell him he was wrong, would try to talk him up and fix it. would use that endless kindness to tell arthur endless stories about his own importance. merlin would shine his sunshine on arthur until arthur forgot he was just a lump of rock. he wouldn’t rest until arthur loved himself, until arthur took all the credit for merlin’s own accomplishments again.

no, he would keep this to himself. he would give merlin the attention and love he deserves. this story isn’t actually about arthur pendragon. it never was.

#idk what this is #anyway #sorry #me? projecting? never #also to clarify uh this is obviously not how i feel personally about arthur!!#i love that man i just wanted to explore how the insecurities we see him have in the show would look post magic reveal #merlin #arthur pendragon #bbc merlin #bbc arthur #merthur #it’s hinted at more than anything though #character study #character introspection #might delete later #ficlet #angst

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chosoisamalewife · 1 month

Note

* Sees the angst tag in the masterlist * me: 😈

I request the finest dish of Sukuna and Male reader, with the drink being Angst. Sukuna had kept his Male servant around in the heian era and began to have a soft spot for him. But when he found a servant's dead body, he began to go mad. Now, the rest is up to you.

Sukuna x male!reader

A/N : I am a big angst lover so the moment I saw this request I squealed and instantly started writing

A/N : I gotten inspiration from the last of us opening for the death scene. Also Sukuna and reader had a special thing 😉😉 ALSO SUKUNA IS HEAVILY OOC

Sukuna wasn’t a kind man,well he wasn’t a man to begin with, he was a curse object that hated basically everything. He wasn’t kind at all, he was rough and mean. He was one thing that has zero weakness or so he thought. There was you he never understood why he adored you so much. You were a pesky human to him, a mere servant of his. However he couldn’t help but to be soft and patient with you. He felt pathetic every time he saw you smile, every time he saw your eyes and skin glowing in the sun light. The way you looked at everything with kind eyes, even him, a monstrous being. The way you trace the patterns all over his body, your fingertips grazing his skin gently like he was fragile glass as your soothing voice spoke. Oh your voice was something he could listen to always, it was one of a kind to him. He hated it but oh he couldn’t tell you to stop. You were a weakness to him and he hated, he hated everything about it, yet he couldn’t get rid of you.

He has even tried to, there has been many times he has thought about killing you. He has pictured it many times and many different ways, sometimes they come out of the blue. The other times is when you are sleeping peacefully next to him, his eyes starring at your resting face trailing them down looking at all the marks from him. He couldn’t help but to imagine ripping your heart out right then and there, doing the same thing you have done to him, making you feel the same pain.

You didn’t understand it either why he was so gentle to you. When you first became his servant he treated you like the other. He was cold and ruthless to you, the only person you saw he even remotely nice to was uruame. The first time that you saw something different from was when you bumped into by accident. The force of him basically knocked the breath out of your lungs. You just stared up at him with fear as he just stared down at you. You gotten on your knees "I'm sorry King. I must have been distracted I didn't see you." Your voice shook with fear. He reached one of his hands down offering it to you. You looked at him confused

"Are you gonna take it or what?" He asked without any emotion or tone to his voice. You put your hand in his helping you raise up. From there you saw him slowly began to soften. He knew the track you walked in the castle so he eventually start to intercept that track. He knew you liked to paint so he start to let you go outside to do that with his "supervision" of course. You had a favorite spot too, it was under a tree surrounded by flowers, so he had other servant set up a area for you there. He stood out there with you for the most of it he wanted to make sure you didn't run away. But that was just an excuse. He stood out there because of how peacefully you looked. He liked how you looked when you concentrate, he liked how your strong hands look holding the brush. He also did it to make sure that no one would disturb you.

One thing he hated more than how gentle you were, was the way you looked when you cry. Sukuna wasn’t a patient being which caused a lot of fights between the two of y’all. Sukuna never felt the need to apologize to anyone or anything but with you he just couldn’t help it. He felt the need to apologize especially after a bad one. Such as the recent one, he was sitting on his throne thinking of the way your eyes filled with tear before you stormed off. The way you yelled “If you are so tired of me then kill me! Do it already!”

He decided to ask uraume to make your favorite dishes as a act of him apologizing to you. When he brought the food up to your door. He could hear sniffling. He thought your were still upset so he put the tray on the floor and knocked gently on your door. "Y/N, I know you're probably still upset but here is some food. " That’s when he heard you say his name but it wasn't normal. It was odd like you were hurt. He opened the door to find you bleeding on the floor.

He ran to your body lying on the ground, the was a big gash from your chest to your torso. “Y/N, going to be okay.” He took you in his arms trying to pick you up which caused you to scream in pain. “ I know, I know but you have to let me. I have to get you help.” He tried again, your nails were digging into his skin as you screamed. “I know baby, I know.” Baby was a nickname that he has never used until now, it was always brat. He stood up half way before the grip you had on him let go and everything went silent. Your body fell limp in his arms. “Y/N” He sat down on the ground with your body cradle in his arms. He sat there just staring at the opened window. If he wasn’t late he could’ve caught that person, the thing that killed you. Or he could've killed it before it hurt you. The thing that took you from him. He’s going to hunt them but he doesn’t want to kill them. No, killing them would be to humane. He wants to torture them until their body can’t take it and give up.

He sits there for hours in the the silence of what use to be your lively room. What once was a room filled with laughter, talking, and other noises is now a room with nothing. The sound of the door opening interrupted his thought. He turned his head looking at the intruder, it was another servant. “My kin-“ the servant wasn’t even able to get the full word out before a slash went through his body. Uraume eventually came the fetch the body before leaving sukuna alone again. It began a repeated process of servants intruding to only be killed in a second

This went on for 3 days, your body started to decay but he didn’t move. He stayed there not caring about the decay or the smell. “Sukuna” Uraume opened the door gently. He stared at them with a look in his eyes that they have never seen before. Was it heartbreak, anger, madness that he didn’t want to let out. Simply because he didn’t want to disturb your resting body.

“I don’t want to fucking hear it.” He barked at them. They crouch in front of him leaving your body in between them.

“Sukuna, I think we should give him a proper burial. He doesn’t deserve to rot here.” He sat there for a second considering it. "Please" They pleaded with him hoping to get in his mind. He nodded slowly. "Where do you want to bury him"

"I know a place." Sukuna and Uraume put you in beautiful clothing before burying you along with your paint and brushes. Your favorite place became your resting place, under the tree surrounded by flowers.

For hours the quiet castle became home to thunderous yells the sound of things being thrown. No one even dared to ask Sukuna if he was okay, it was clear to what would happen. They would become like those painting of yours that he has ripped up. Those gorgeous painted vases shattered on the floor, he didn't care about the glass stabbing his feet. Everything reminded you of him and he wanted it all gone, it all destroyed and dead just like you. Sukuna's madness went as far as killing every other servant that met you. They knew that you were a weakness to him and he couldn't let them live. He made sure that only him and Uraume remembered you.

Over the course of centuries you began to fade into the back of his mind, a place that he will never tap back into. Those memories no longer had the same effect on him. They didn’t make him soft like they use to. They made him angry, viewing them as a time that he was weak. He even forgot that he was on a hunt looking for the person or curse that killed you. If anything he now wishes it was him that did it. He sees you as having a victory over him simply because he couldn't. You were his biggest regret and now you exist forvever in the back in his mind. You were like a thorn in his foot that he can never get out. No matter how much it annoyed him, it will always be there so he learned to ignore it.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x male reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x male reader #male reader #sukuna x male reader #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #sukuna

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rogueddie · 8 months

Text

Chrissy, who used had a fling with Steve back in his King era, reluctant to date Robin because of how close the two friends are. But Steve is so excited for the two of them and is constantly fighting tooth and nail for them to be happy.

He has to sort of chaperone their dates for safety and he's always trying to find little moments where they can be alone for a second, little spots where they can be very affectionate.

And it's not like there aren't cons- Robin is always putting him first, the same way he puts Robin first. At first, Chrissy feels weird about that, but the longer they date, the more Steve groups them together. The more Chrissy starts to become the person he puts first too.

Sometimes Chrissy can't believe that he's the same guy. But he's family- he loves her, the same way he does Robin. And Chrissy would do anything to keep that.

#stranger things #steve harrington #robin buckley #platonic with a capital p #chrissy cunningham #buckingham

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sabertoothwalrus · 2 years

Text

predictions for rest of Owl House season 3

I can't see an ending to this show not somehow creating a permanent bridge between the Human and Demon Realms, but how are they gonna get there? I think the answer is in...

✨The Stars✨

One of the first things that brought this to my attention was in Reaching Out, when Luz & Amity send a flower into the sky, and it's directly paralleled by Camila's flower vase:

Amity: Do you think they'll reach the Human Realm? Luz: Probably doesn't work that way, but... it's a nice thought, right?

Now, in Thanks to Them, we have TWO scenes where Luz literally reaches for the stars (the sun a clear reference to the Collector), MULTIPLE shots of light spells floating upwards (into the sky), Gus and Hunter discussing space travel, and the very last shot of the special itself panning up from the cemetery portal to the night sky.

But, how DO they reach the stars? I highly doubt this show would go towards a literal space travel route. I think, obviously, the Collector is a part of it, but I think it's also a matter of someone getting high enough to reach.

Perhaps maybe.... as tall as a titan?

Clearly, there's a lot of shared history between titans and the Collector. And titans themselves have their own fair share of celestial imagery:

(notice the titan skeleton LITERALLY BEING AS HIGH AS THE PLANETS AND ASTEROIDS)

Perhaps this is why the titans and the Collector have been at odds. Maybe, the titans could use the stars to travel, and for whatever reason, the Collector didn't like that.

And if titans can travel through the stars, it might also solve the mystery of King's mother's whereabouts.

We know the Boiling Isles titan is King's father. And the Boiling Isles is OLD. The Hecktaceous Period is a really vaguely ancient era that doesn't directly parallel one specific era on Earth, so it's hard to put a time frame on it. Either way, all life on the Boiling Isles evolved FROM the Boiling Isles, and did not exist prior.

But..... Bill saw a titan somehow? Bill isn't from the Boiling Isles, and he's old, but it seems unlikely that he's older than literally all life on the Boiling Isles. And King HEARD a titan, who roared, "son". King is about 8 years old, but we don't know how long he was in his egg before he hatched.

It SEEMS implied that "the last titan" the trappers were after was supposed to be King, but that might not necessarily be the case...

Bill: But if you think Belos is evil, you've never seen a live Titan. The children out there haven't either. [The trio looks outside the window, but Hooty notices something to his right and stretches towards that direction. Cut to the King lookalike demons cheering at him as he stands in front of a waterfall.] Bill: Don't know a thing about their ravenous appetites, or their terrible cries! Even their babies act like little monarchs. The last living Titan, I saw it once before it disappeared. Its hateful roar blew out my eardrums. How did it go? "Weh!"

Bill: [Rolls up his sleeve.] You like our disguises? [Takes off his glove to reveal a hand.] You gotta look like a Titan to trap one. [Puts on his glove back.] But if I ever find that missing Titan, I'd hunt it down, tear it limb from limb, and mount its head in pride as we release the Huntsman! Then... we can finally go from being Titan Trappers to Titan Slayers! Say, who's your buddy's tailor? His costume looks so real!

it sounds to me like there's a titan Bill saw that isn't the Boiling Isles or King.

And if you look back at the mural of the trapper fighting a titan, the titan is depicted with a longer face than what the Boiling Isles actually has. Maybe.... *that's* King's mother?

So, where did she go? The stars? But if they connect to the Human Realm, where would she be?

Funnily enough, in Connecticut (you know, the state Luz is from), there's geological structure called The Sleeping Giant.

Just a thought.

#edit: look in the notes to find my reblog with more speculation!!!#the owl house #toh spoilers #toh theory #thanks to them #season 3 #long post #I am FULLY taking advantage of tumblr allowing more than 10 images now #photos

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miguelhugger2099 · 3 months

Text

A Knight's Oath

Summary: You're a princess in need of a personal guard after your father's passing. Miguel from the enemy kingdom, is assigned to become a spy that kills you. Next>>

Knight!Miguel x Princess!Reader, Enemies to Lovers(?), Angst, Fluff, Not proofread, Word Count: 1,005

Like any tale as old as time, history is never clean. Freedom is never gained through peace. It is violence, a necessary one at that, in order to get what you need. Even if it means becoming the villain to some and the hero to others.

Your father was no exception. As a young king, his father had died in battle protecting the kingdom during a famine. With its citizens crying for help and other countries trying to step on their kingdom, your father had picked up a sword and began to lead a slaughter in the name of freedom. With your mother at his side, she helped on the inside, providing jobs, and a sense of community for hope and pride of their heritage. It had been a long thirteen years of bloodshed, but ultimately, the king had successfully pushed back intruders and helped bring his kingdom back to life.

In the middle of the war, you had been born–a princess–a new era of hope and peace for the land. Your people had celebrated your birth with parades, art, music and dancing, while your parents always showed you off with pride. For the next couple of years, you had been raised to be kind, resilient and humble. You were still just a baby when it had ended, so you did not know the true extent of it. You did know there was a war where other countries had looked down upon you and despite the small size of your army, you had won. You knew your father did whatever he had to do to protect the faces of the common people and the future of your life so you never faulted him for it.

Unfortunately, your father passed just before you reached adulthood. An unknown illness and went in his sleep. Everyone had mourned the terrible loss of their protector and beloved king, father and husband. Despite his actions in war, he was always incredibly kind to his people and was a great role model of a man in your life. You took pride in the fact you were his flesh and blood and that would never change. So with honor and grace, you worked hard to follow in his footsteps to be a great leader.

Others, however, did not share the same feelings. In other stories, your father was the devil himself. A cruel king that had struck anyone who had gotten in his way, caused the downfall of armies and used wicked ways to poison and torture troops to his advantage. When word of his passing had spread, many had celebrated the death of the evil king and hoped all those who lived in his kingdom perished with him.

Miguel O’Hara was one who thought the same. He hated the king that had started a war and it killed his father, hated how the aftermath of it left his mother depressed and his family starving. His homeland was in shambles because of your father and for years, he prayed for a chance to help his own country in gaining revenge.

So, for years Miguel had worked his way up in the ranks of his homelands army. A protector of his people and a way to finally fight back if another war were to break out again. He not only trained hard for his home, but to also feed his family—his mother and little brother. He often worried about them but little Gabriel was always eager to help while Miguel was away. Always a kind soul, he was.

When rumors had gone out that his king had been planning on planting a spy and an assassination on the princess of the enemy land, Miguel’s interest had been piqued. He thought to himself, without an heir, that wicked kingdom would surely fall to its knees and get what they deserve.

Naturally, Miguel had been called in for an audience with the king. He bent down on one knee and bowed his head.

“My Lord.” He greeted.

The king’s slicked back white hair practically glinted in the sunlight where its rays were seeping through the tall windows of the throne room. “Stand, soldier.” His voice boomed.

Miguel stood back up, the metal of his knight armor clanking against each other and he rested his wrist on his sword by his side. The king spoke again. “My boy, you are the finest gem in our armed forces. Your victories are endless and you make all of us here proud.”

Miguel’s face didn’t move, still as ever and it only made the king’s grin curl up even more.

“Which is why I’ve assigned you a special mission,” Miguel took a deep breath. “As the princess of Etheria’s guard.”

Now that had made Miguel’s face scrunch up in disgust. “My Lord, forgive me but–” He quickly shut his mouth when the king raised his hand.

“You will portray yourself as one of them. Eat, sleep and breathe like them and gain a position of a knight in their castle,” He explained. “There are talks of the princess needing a personal guard. Once you have gained information and the trust of those lowlife scum, you are to kill her. Once she is dead, we will invade their land and finish what they started.”

Miguel let his words seep into his thoughts. To live amongst the people he’s loathed since the beginning? It was barbaric and humiliating.

But this was his chance. A chance at revenge. He was angered when the king had died before he could even get close. Now, with the opportunity of sticking a sword in his own daughter’s heart–Miguel felt that was an even better alternative.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by his king. “Do what you must to be as convincing as possible. Care for her, protect her, admire her, kill one of our own if need be– just make sure that no one expects a thing… Especially the princess.” Miguel stood up straighter, saluting the man in front.

“Yes, My Lord.”

“Dismissed.”

A/N: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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