Baby!Yuji realizing his resemblance to dad!Sukuna.
°❀.࿔*⋆⭒˚｡⋆°❀.࿔*⋆⭒˚｡⋆°❀.࿔*⋆⭒˚｡⋆°❀.࿔*⋆⭒˚｡⋆°❀.࿔
You noticed that six-year-old Yuji had been looking in the mirror a lot lately. He was constantly studying his face and playing with his hair. As he did the exact same thing right now, a fond smile touched your lips. You walked up behind him, resting your hands gently on his small shoulders.
"Looks like someone really loves looking in the mirror."
He turned to you and smiled.
"Mommy! I look like Daddy!" he said.
"Ah, so that's why. You were discovering how much you look like your dad."
"Look, my eyes and my hair... just like his!"
His excitement made you giggle. You ruffled his hair and kissed his rosy cheeks.
"Yes, baby. You're a mini version of your dad."
Lately, everyone who saw him kept saying how much he looked like his father. The boy had heard it so many times that he actually started to notice the resemblance himself.
When Sukuna walked into the room, Yuji shared his discovery with him too.
"Daddy, look at me!"
He widened his tiny eyes as if to prove it and pointed at his pink hair.
"Look, we're exactly the same!"
A small, smug smile appeared on Sukuna’s face.
"You're your father's son, kid."
Hearing his dad's words, Yuji's face lit up. But then, a sudden thought about you seemed to cross his little mind.
"I don’t look like Mama."
You pouted slightly.
"You didn’t have to say that right to my face, Yuji."
Sukuna let out a short chuckle, a lazy, playful smirk on his lips.
"Sorry about that," he murmured. "My genes are just a bit too stubborn."
You rolled your eyes.
Encouraged by his dad's laughter, the little boy turned back to the mirror with a proud grin.
"My lips, my nose... all Daddy!"
You let out a soft laugh.
"Yeah... You really do look like your dad."
"I didn’t know you loved your father quite this much," Sukuna teased, a hint of deep amusement in his voice.
Yuji hugged Sukuna's legs tightly and looked up at him.
"I love my daddy sooo much!"
Sukuna ran his hand through Yuji's pink hair, ruffling it gently.
note . u guys . . . i've been on a roll writing my actual novel i actually forgot about this acc, but this has been in the draft for a long time so i figured why not finish it sdkjdkdj anywho, i hope this one makes it up . . . if u guys wanna see me where i'm active most, it's tiktok and ig with the user @/spicysushibowl teehee. if it isn't obvious this one was inspired by mobile legends lmao.
𐔌 pro-gamer sukuna 𐦯 fell into the world of gaming at a fairly young age when a family friend asked him to play along. He was a natural at it and eventually went pro— rather than working a boring 9 to 5 job, he made it his career. He's got the looks, the skill, every team wants him. He was practically the mary sue of the gaming world.
The game he played wasn't the easiest. It wasn't the 'just for fun' games you play online and get the laugh out with your friends, it's the type of game where you work in a five man team and strategize to win the game. It could go from an easy 10 minute game to a straight half an hour game.
𐔌 pro-gamer sukuna 𐦯 earned a spot in a good team. Automatically making it into the main roster the second he signed those contracts. It was inevitable that the assassin role was meant for him. His fingers were quick and the gears in his brain worked like no other, this position was bound for him sooner or later.
𐔌 pro-gamer sukuna 𐦯 isn't just known for his extremely well gameplay or his good looks. He was well known to be a dickhead. Everyone knows that, yet they still like him. Haters tried to "cancel" him, but it never did work because Sukuna simply doesn't care— he played for the money and not the fame. It just apparently decided to come with it.
Sukuna had used his codename for a long time in the gaming world, "Saku". The same family friend who couldn't spell his name entered the name "Sakuna" the first time they made an account for him, and he's made it shorter after.
𐔌 pro-gamer sukuna 𐦯 doesn't do interviews. He wins and walks out like this job is the easiest thing he had ever done in his life, quite the contrary, his teammates told him that this was probably harder than any 9 to 5 jobs they've done. Sukuna doesn't bother, he's always thought that he carried the team to the championships every year anyways.
𐔌 pro-gamer sukuna 𐦯 was fairly surprised when he sees a girl —you— roaming right in the players' lounge, seemingly lost and confused. He tried walking away, but you stopped him, "Do you know Saku?"
Sukuna deadpans, "Do I know Saku?"
"Yeah, he's a player. He plays assassin heroes, and he's a little bit of a dick," you explained.
Despite your harsh words, you had a big smile on your face. Describing Sukuna like he had personally saved you from something, "Yes, I know him," he nonchalantly spoke, his hood stayed up. Maybe that was why you couldn't pinpoint him.
"I'm a volunteer here and they told me I can get his signature—"
"I'm Saku."
And no, he did not sign anything for you because Sukuna believed that if you were such a big fan of him, you'd recognize him by then. Obviously, you failed to do that.
𐔌 pro-gamer sukuna 𐦯 forgot about that matter quickly until he saw you post match, of course it was an easy win for his team— he saw you holding up a banner with his name, the same twinkling look on your face.
He’d recognize that banner anywhere. His face was edited with the all too well dog filter, even with that frown on his face, you still made him look like a little kid forced to do something he doesn’t like. You waved the banner as if he hasn’t been looking your way from five minutes earlier.
What an odd person.
𐔌 pro-gamer sukuna 𐦯 has met his portion of weird fans, starting from ones asking for his phone number nonchalantly to the ones that ask him if he likes getting tied up. People are so weird.
He has never seen you until that time, and now that he has, it was like you’re everywhere. Despite that, he doesn’t think you were one of those fans to breach the line of his comfort zone at all— whenever he walks by the back stage where you apparently volunteered for, you never try to throw yourself onto him (or maybe it was against your work etiquette).
Even when you weren’t in your uniform, you held up that same stupid banner, jumping in the watchers section. Cheered whenever he does some crazy moves, and weirdly, you never scream. You cheer happily to yourself, clap your hands, and call it a day.
𐔌 pro-gamer sukuna 𐦯 bumps into you on the grand final of that season. You still had that stupid smile on your face, but you said nothing besides a, “Good luck, Saku!”
Sukuna doesn’t answer you. He would have thought that you’ll stop liking him after that first encounter— but you stayed devoted. You don’t ask for a second autograph, “Don’t use that shit banner on me anymore, it’s embarrassing.”
You blinked, “Oh, the dog filter one? I made that back when I first hyperfixated on you, I’ll make a cooler one when I have the time. Glad you noticed it though,” he raised a brow.
And you stayed waving the same ugly banner right on the first row.
𐔌 pro-gamer sukuna 𐦯 streams outside of professional league like many of his teammates. He doesn’t say much, he gets angry and plays but money rolls in like it grows on trees.
You’ve always watched his streams no matter how tired you got, even falling asleep during it. And not to brag, but you had earned your position on being the top 5 donators for his streams. How cool is that.
‘(Name)(Last Name) donated ¥800.’
You never really did donate more than equivalent to five bucks at all. For years, it was equivalent to your food stock for … a decade. Great. And he doesn’t even recognize you.
Which is why you work!
𐔌 pro-gamer sukuna 𐦯 sees you the next season not as a volunteer but as a full watcher. You were different, bleached your hair to a light (color)— the banner was new, it was a newer picture of Sukuna with the same filter. And there was a writing with an ugly font you’d see at old edits.
His eye twitch lightly, but he couldn’t offer himself to get caught on the ugly banner. After he focused on the game, he could tell that this would be a good season.
Or not.
𐔌 pro-gamer sukuna 𐦯 was angered when one of the new addition to the team blundered during a crucial match. They ended up losing the first match after that crucial mistake.
The thing about Sukuna was that his anger is never silent. He hates losing more than anything— and the meeting started out loud. He was yelling at the new comer like there is no tomorrow. By the end, his coach had to separate him by kicking him out.
Right as you were passing by with your cheeks full of popcorn. You stopped and stare, in your defense, you didn’t know his team’s waiting lounge was right there. Usually, it would be in a more closed off area where watchers can’t reach.
He was fuming. But, stared back at you, “The hell are you looking at?”
“You’ll get the second round.”
𐔌 pro-gamer sukuna 𐦯 did get the second round after a huddle up. By all means, he tried his best to carry that new comer who seemed more nervous after his outburst.
You were front row, cheering loudly and waving the banner to earn his attention. Sukuna clicked his tongue in annoyance, but his eyes lingered on your figure longer than before.
𐔌 pro-gamer sukuna 𐦯 finally realized that you were the one donating after you donated with the side note of being his dog filter banner fangirl. Oddly, he responded to your notes and nobody else’s. So, his fans started speculating things.
Only to get immediately shut down by him during the said stream while you were screaming inside your room at the thought of getting shipped with him. Even his public rejection didn’t falter your energy.
𐔌 pro-gamer sukuna 𐦯 didn’t expect to always bump into you at the most unexpected ways— were you stalking him? He narrowed his eyes, but you waved at him wholeheartedly as he walked by a convenience store. You stumbled over the stool and walked out with a stick of fishcake.
“Sukuna!”
That was the first time you addressed him by his actual name and not game name. He raised a brow, “You want some fishcake?”
“No.”
“Okay. What about some onigiri?”
“No.”
“Energy drink?”
“No.”
You bought him all three and he accepted it nonetheless.
𐔌 pro-gamer sukuna 𐦯 realizes now that you worked right inside the building next to the convenience store, that is why you always hang by there. Alone. And it just happened to be the store near his apartment complex, talk about some luck.
So, he frequently finds himself eating right next to you. You didn’t seem to bother him during those times, chewing happily. Sukuna doesn’t seem to mind it either (because you weren’t intentionally bothering him like most of his fangirls).
𐔌 pro-gamer sukuna 𐦯 ended up with a big fat crush— or is that what he’d like to say? No, he thinks crushes are stupid. He believed the right term for it is just admiration, even getting himself to admit that was downright embarrassing because this is Sukuna and Sukuna doesn’t do romance. Maybe with his phone.
The more time he passed by with you, the more he finds himself getting attached. Which is weird because he has never been this attached to anyone besides the starter hero he played for the first time ever.
But it would take more than just convincing for him to admit his crush on you.
𐔌 pro-gamer sukuna 𐦯 takes 3 whole months to get over his feelings and admitted that he liked you. And that is because he saw a stranger sitting by your side ONE TIME during lunch hour in the convenience store— rather than eating the loss, he told you he wanted you to date him.
Long story short, it was your distant cousin who helped you get an interview in the said company. It was embarrassing for Sukuna as it is already, but that revelation made his whole ego crumble. He decided to ghost you for 3 days after.
You thought your relationship would be shortlived until he replied on the fourth day.
𐔌 pro-gamer sukuna 𐦯 is not a smooth talker or one to do romance. He doesn’t do kisses, or hugs, or too much PDA. But he will meet you halfway to the arena and stop for you to do whatever you want to him, whether it being a kiss or a pep talk, he takes it (even if he admitted that he hates it, he still stops and wait).
“Good luck, I got a new banner,” that consisted of him getting edited in a big lips filter and fleek lashes. Sukuna’s lips curled into a smirk, but he was used to these kind of banner, “break a leg, love you tons!”
𐔌 pro-gamer sukuna 𐦯 exposed his relationship when he forgot to tell you he was streaming— you panicked, he didn’t.
“I’m so sorry.”
“For what?” He asked nonchalantly, tapping on his phone. Even he had already forgotten you walked inside the camera view and the moment you did, his chat broke out, “Walkin’ inside the camera view?”
“Yeah. Our relationship isn’t supposed to be public yet.”
“Guess it is now,” you would’ve thought he’d be at least frustrated because he was the one who told you to keep it low for a bit, “the hell are you worried for?”
𐔌 pro-gamer sukuna 𐦯 doesn’t bother with his teammates and coach’s questions about his relationship. He has had enough people asking about it that it pissed him off to no end— what was more annoying was they managed to find your account and spammed you for it. Half of them annoyed that you could land a relationship with one of the hottest MOBA professional player, half of them were very happy for you.
“Ryo, your fans are the sweetest,” you showed him a message from his fan.
By looking at the first word, Sukuna could tell it was a hate message. But you seemed so positive that he could just laugh it off (reported right after without your knowledge).
𐔌 pro-gamer sukuna 𐦯 has people telling him that you were a hindrance to his career. And what did he do? He retired from playing professionally and decided to do something more laidback like streaming with a side of extra dates with you.
People were surprised at the fact that he’s retiring during his peak. Sukuna doesn’t care, the money still went in like he played professionally anyways— the only difference was that he could now hang out with you more than before.
A big win, he thought.
𐔌 pro-gamer sukuna 𐦯 was offered to be a coach for his old team, but declined. He told them he would accept the owner position though. You told him to go for it and all he said was that he was getting tired of pro scene.
In reality? Being a coach meant watching his players play, strategizing, going out. He would rather spend it with you, whether it being a spa day with cucumbers over his eyes, or karaoke night where he’s just listening to you yell out the lyrics for three hours straight.
“You’re busting my eardrums.”
“Is that said out of love or . . ?”
“Nah.”
“Hey!”
𐔌 pro-gamer sukuna 𐦯 thinks that this is the best possible outcome of bumping into a volunteer back stage. He could ask for nothing. Inviting you for fun streams, playing a game for two, playing games you wanted to play. Even teaching you how to play MOBA with him during streams.
Sukuna admits he’s not a person for romance, but now that you’re here, he still won’t admit it. At least not to anyone but you.
SUKUNA x female reader. modern au. married couple + baby son & daughter dynamics. resolved angst and fluff. kids names are unspecified and in (pre)school. reader is a working mom and going through a slump.
the thing about slumps is that you never know you’re in one. not until your own body becomes foreign — your limbs heavy, your eyes always tired, everything feeling a little... bland.
it wasn’t always like this. you used to love the routine — the mornings, the lunches, the yelling at sukuna to “not let them eat marshmallows before dinner,” the late night runs to get weird snacks, the sunday movie nights where you’d all squeeze onto one couch like sardines.
but lately, you’re just tired. not sleepy - tired in that soul-deep way where even brushing your teeth feels like a whole act. and somehow, your kids notice it before even you do.
you're sitting on the edge of your bed, motionless. your laptop's somewhere on the floor, your phone is still buzzing with unread messages, and you’ve been staring at the same spot on the wall for god knows how long. the curtains are drawn, and the air's too still. when your son pads in, it’s not loud. in fact, it’s too quiet for someone who usually announces every room he enters like a little tornado.
“mommy?” he whispers.
you blink. “hm?”
“can i touch your feet?”
you look down. he’s crouched at the edge of the bed, tiny hands already reaching for your ankles. you nod, confused. “why?”
he shrugs. “i saw daddy do it when you were sad that one time.”
before you can even process that, your daughter skips in — not with her usual dramatic flair — but with a thick book clutched to her chest. it’s the kid’s version of greek mythology you bought her from the school fair. she sits beside you, opening it with careful fingers.
“i’ll read to you,” she announces. “because when i feel sad, you read to me.”
you don’t even know what to say. your throat goes tight. you stare down at your son, whose hands are so small and soft, trying his absolute best to “massage” like he’s seen in movies. he’s pressing at your heel with his thumb like he’s kneading dough.
your daughter starts reading, mispronouncing “hephaestus” so badly it sounds like “head-pasta,” and she just keeps going, blissfully unaware, or maybe completely aware and trying her best anyway.
you don’t realize you’re crying until a tear falls right on the page.
“m-mommy?” your daughter panics immediately. “did the story make you sad?? i can skip this one! i’ll skip to persephone! persephone is cute, right?”
“did i do it too hard?” your son asks, frozen with one hand still on your ankle. “i didn't mean to squish your bones! i was gentle! i swear!”
you open your mouth to speak — to reassure them — but you’re already crying too much. it’s not loud, just silent sobs that shake you from the inside. it’s the kind of crying you don’t even realize you needed.
“what the hell happened here?”
sukuna’s voice is always a bit gravelly, but right now it’s softer around the edges. when he walks in, he looks at you, then the kids, then the way your shoulders are trembling — and in less than a second, he’s by your side. no words, no questions. just wraps you up like he’s got no bones, just solid warmth, holding you like someone might snatch you away.
“keep reading, sweetheart,” he murmurs to your daughter, tucking you under his chin. “she loves when you read.”
she sniffs. “but she’s crying, daddy!”
“yeah,” he says, kissing the top of your head, “but not ‘cause of the book. keep going. persephone sounds perfect.”
and so she does. voice quivering at first, then steadier, flipping the pages with a little more confidence. your son rests his cheek on your knee like he’s guarding you from sadness itself. and you — caught between two small kids who love you too much and a husband who may not always say the right thing but knows — you realize maybe you were in a slump.
and maybe this is all you needed. not a vacation or a break, but just a moment of family time. that's all.
.
.
.
it's 30 minutes past curfew. which, in your household, means the kids are practically criminals at this point. but try telling them that.
“daddy, i am not leaving until mama sleeps,” your daughter hisses with a level of conviction that could move mountains — or at the very least, her father. sukuna, crouched beside the bed and very obviously out of his depth, mutters back, “your mom doesn’t fall asleep on cue, kid. she’s not a switch.”
“she can be!” she whisper-yells, stubborn arms crossed over her tiny chest. “if i read long enough, she’ll sleep like a baby.”
meanwhile, at the foot of the bed, your son is grinning up at you with every single tooth in his mouth on display, thumbs digging into your calves with all the strength his tiny hands can muster. he’s working your legs like he’s been hired. “how’s that, mommy?” he beams. “you feel better now? i think your bones are less sad now!”
you bite back a watery laugh. “so much better, sweetheart. my bones are smiling.”
“i knew it!”
behind him, your daughter stomps her tiny socked foot. “daddy, give me the book. i’ll read. you’re too slow.”
“you have school in the morning,” sukuna says, exasperated. “go to bed.”
“mama’s more important than school.”
he exhales sharply. “you get that from her,” he mutters, jerking his thumb toward you.
“good,” your daughter huffs, crawling up beside you with the book anyway. “we’ll read the one where the girl becomes queen. that’s her favorite. and you—” she looks at sukuna sharply “—you do princess voice this time. last time you made her sound like a goblin.”
“i’m not doing the princess voice,” sukuna grumbles.
your son pokes your knee. “daddy is good at goblin voice, though.”
“fine. i’ll do the stupid voice,” he sighs. “but only one chapter, and then you kids are going to bed.”
they agree like it’s a peace treaty, and the chapter begins — sukuna reading in the most unconvincing falsetto you've ever heard in your life, your daughter correcting his pronunciation every other sentence, and your son now curled up beside your waist, occasionally patting your stomach like you’re a patient in need of healing.
by the end, your eyes are closed — not from sleep, but from how deeply your heart has been wrung dry from all their care. you’re quiet, not crying, just… absorbing. warm.
your daughter peeks.
“mama?”
you hum.
“are you okay now?”
you open your eyes to meet hers. “i’m getting there, baby.”
that’s good enough for her. she climbs onto your chest like a cat and smothers your cheeks with a flurry of kisses. your son follows, planting his own slightly-wet kiss on your forehead before they both hop off the bed.
“night night, mama,” he says. “don’t be sad again, okay?”
“not allowed,” your daughter adds sternly. “we’re not gonna let you.”
“roger that,” you say, voice thick.
“bed.” sukuna finally growls like a tired bear, herding them down the hallway like two giggling sheep. there’s some mild resistance, a little dragging of feet, and a lot of promises to check on you in the morning. but eventually, they vanish into their room. and then it's just you and him.
he closes the door, walking over and kneels beside you. his hand cups your face with such terrifying gentleness that it nearly splits you in two. you offer him the smallest, tired smile. it’s all he needs.
“shift over.”
he climbs into bed behind you, arm snaking around your waist as he pulls you into him like he's magnetized. no questions. just his way of saying i see you. i’ve got you.
“you gonna make me do the princess voice tomorrow too?” he mutters into your neck.
you snort, sniffling. “maybe.”
he presses a kiss to your shoulder. “then you better get some sleep, princess.”
this is a drabble archive account for creamflix - this is a repost and not something stolen. i am not exclusively active on this account, nor do i take requests on here. if you want to use this idea for a fic or series, please ask for permission first.
（＾∀＾●）ﾉｼ support me on kofi and help me pay for college!!
Hi urs! what do you think would come to become the little twins' favorite childhood disney classic hyperfixation? might be random but you mentioned lion king a while ago and ever since i have been wondering how the twins' would be exicted for the movie esp the first time until they witness mufasa dying 😭😭
it’s the lion king for me 🥹
sylus x reader | sylus & his family
mama would have the urge to watch it one day when they were very, very little.
they don’t quite understand yet why you cry at some parts, and other parts and some parts more. but it’s the first movie they actually sit through and pay attention to…
except the times mufasa would speak, that’s when kyros’s head would bob up and down as if he’d doze off any minute. only because the timbre reminded him of papa’s voice so much.
the second time they would watch it, it would be with sylus.
“wah-yon!” lucian’s head pops up in the path of sylus’s view of the television. the nature documentary effectively abandoned now in favor of this interaction.
“hm?” he glances at the screen, now muted, showing small, furry mongoose. “uh, no, angel. meerkats.”
“ang!” lucian grunts. frustrated at something he cannot find the words for just yet. “gahr! wah-yon!”
“grr.” sylus growls back in confusion. is he playing a game?
“papa!” he whines, hopelessly plopping his cheek on his chest as if he’d given up. sylus is at a loss.
it’s then that kyros climbs the long way up sylus’s outstretched legs to position himself by his side. lucian’s face brightens significantly, ecstatic now that someone sensible has joined them.
“weewo!” he prattles on, a string of babbles that do and do not sound like words and gestures that should mean something but do not, unfortunately for their poor papa.
meanwhile, kyros pays attention with half-blinking eyelids and responds with a determined huff.
sylus is none the wiser.
joining his brother on their papa’s expanse of a chest, kyros says, “papa, wah-yon.”
and offers no further clarity.
sylus bares his fangs, hesitantly. “grr?”
“ah! no—papaa!” they’re both talking now. yipping and yapping. trying their best with their baby speech and bobbing heads and little movements to relay to him a more important message beyond lion.
they cannot figure for the life of them why their father is growling either. does he think they’re playing a game?
it comes to a point— when kyros baps his forehead and lucian cheers and says, “mankee! wah-yon!”— that he admits his defeat and begs for reinforcements.
he’s desperate when he calls out, “sweetie!”
and you—oh, you. you are an angel walking the earth when you come. spotting all three of them on the couch piled together. and you pout, “cuddles without mama?”
the children rejoice at your presence. lucian crawls over sylus’s belly to transfer to you, and you take him and listen to what he has to say.
“mama! a-kito-kotditi-ditidada-ababu wah-yon?”
you blink at him. for a minute, sylus feels relief that you are both on the same page, and finally there is someone on his side.
but then you shrug. “you want to see lions?”
“a-huh!” kyros squeals, gravitating towards you—the parent who gets them— were it not for sylus holding him in place.
no, he refuses to lose both the translation game and the cuddles. “a’mama, agdoo, dodopa-miya! miya pa mankee-pa, pah-wah-yon.”
“okay, we can watch the lion king.” you say. poor sylus is in utter disbelief.
you take the remote control and exit the nature documentary. flipping through titles on another application until it lands on the preview for the film. safe to say that your husband’s mouth agape has nothing to do with his program being interrupted.
“are you sure?” you ask them. sylus raises a curious brow to your disclaimer.
they’re already nodding and roaring at the screen like happy little cubs. so you hit play.
sylus didn’t think they’d cry. hell, he didn’t think you would cry.
“owpf!” kyros wails, digging his heels into sylus’s thigh as he presses his face against his chest. “toon-owpf!”
lucian is standing on wobbly legs, pressed against the screen, and is trying to nudge the cartoon lion with his mitteny palm to move. “papa wah-yon?”
this is sylus’s first time watching it, and so he grapples with the concoction of emotions he is feeling from the film and his family. you press your face against his shoulder to quiet your sobs; and he thinks this is why he is feeling so terrible.
it’s not because of the movie. right?
“dad, you gotta get up.”
sylus swallows. he is fine until simba, the little lion cub, tugs on his unmoving father’s ear. tethered by the memory of his own sons seeking his ears for comfort, the story hits a little too close to home and he feels his chest burn.
“shh,” he murmurs to kyros while he hides his reddened nose and burning eyes in his tousle of hair. “it’s okay. it’s okay now.”
kyros clutches onto his shirt for dear life.
“dad, we gotta go home.”
“a’papa!” lucian squeaks, hitting the screen harder, wanting to help simba. this is your cue to compose yourself and bring this one into a comforting embrace.
when in range, lucian’s fingers reach out to clutch sylus’s earlobe. sylus might never admit to shedding that tear, but you see it.
fortunately, the movie ends on a joyful note for his two little babies. he finally got why kyros hit him on the head and lucian called him a monkey later on because they giggled about it when it happened. so he files the trauma down to a painful but necessary one.
now, he knows his children’s hearts extend to more than just themselves.
he’d never been one to watch these kinds of things if it weren’t for you. he thinks maybe he should start doing it more often.
because as a viewer, he truly didn’t hate it. but as a father, he absolutely loved it.
when you first moved in, it took sae months to adjust to how lively his house had become.
how his bland and unadorned penthouse was now filled with your belongings, your warm lamps that you bought because you hated the white lighting.
the beautiful lace curtains that now covered the rows of exposed windows. fluffy blankets that complemented his crimson couches, filled with soft and decorative pillows that you adjust in a very particular order. pictures of you and his wedding photos, your bright smile bringing life to his once shallow and empty house.
your vanilla perfume that trailed behind you all the time, slowly seeping into the fabrics of your furniture.
not only did he have to get used to your undeniably amazing taste in decoration, but also your inability to sit peacefully in a messy house.
sae wasn't one to maintain a messy house—he in fact, always made sure it was clean. but he had a horrible habit of tossing clothes on the floor and keeping dishes in the sink, unattended for days on end due to his exhausting schedule.
which inevitably turned into your first fight now that you shared a domestic lifestyle together, as you constantly told him to fold his clothes and do his part of the dishes.
eventually though, things settled down as the two of you finally made agreements on chores, as he finally got used to just how much life you brought into what he called home—just how much light and joy you brought into his life all together.
the penthouse became his escape, not just a place for him to sleep and eat, but a place for him to wind down, a place he sought comfort in knowing you'd always be there—always there to embrace him and smother him with your undying love.
then came your kids.
suddenly, itoshi sae found himself having to get used to the sound of your child's cries in the dead of night—the creaky rocking of the crib as he lulled her back to sleep.
your cries of overwhelming joy as she took her first steps and spoke her first words, "dada."
she always seemed to have a preference towards her father, a preference he never thought would fade.
as she turned three, the house was suddenly scattered with toys everywhere, piles of outgrown baby clothes in her room, and stocks of baby food in the fridge, as she still refused to eat anything remotely crunchy.
what was once just you and him was now a family with a little baby boy on the way.
the second was easier.
sae was now used to the constant pooping and cries; he'd get up in the middle of the night no questions asked, telling you to go back to sleep with no groans or complaints.
sae now no longer had the luxury of waking up to his alarm; instead, he would wake his ten and seven-year-old jumping in the bed, begging for breakfast eagerly.
he no longer had the luxury of coming back to a quiet home; instead, he came back to a house filled with chaos and children's laughter.
something he never knew he'd relish in.
sae was now used to this life, no longer being on his own; he was now surrounded by love, by support, a system he could fall back on if something went wrong.
something he never knew he'd lose—until that night—he never saw a future without you, a future where the death of his lover and only son would be his fault.
it was normal night, he was driving back home after dinner with his parents, his hand on your thigh as the kids argued in the backseat.
soft music played from the radio; he couldn't help but smile.
sae had never felt so fuffilled in his life, like he was actually worth something. like he had so much to look forward to.
and then for a moment—just a moment—sae got distracted, turning his head to the kid as their argument grew, telling them to shut up and deal with it later, and when he turned… it was too late.
all he remembers is you yelling his name, the last thing he ever heard from you, and the collision of the crash; he lost consciousness for a moment before his eyes opened, the loud sirens blasting into his ear as he turned. he remembers the way your head was thrown back—the blood that gushed out.
he desperately tried to shake you awake—the tears in his eyes as his head whipped back to check on his children, the sudden movement sending a shock of pain through his body.
fate is a funny thing, isn't it?
he remembers when you once asked him if he believed in it, and he brushed you off, telling you it was a silly thing.
but now, sae could only laugh.
how fate decided that he would be the one to survive, not you.
the warmth of the home sae spent years getting used to was gone—just like that.
the years he spent pining for you, loving you, being married to you, and raising kids with you—gone like they'd never even mattered.
no, it couldn't be that simple.
fate couldn't be that cruel.
he couldn't be that undeserving of happiness.
now, sae had to adjust to life that had been sucked out of his home.
his crimson couch somehow duller.
wedding photos that once adorned the walls gone because he couldn't bear to look at you.
warm lamps that once made the home welcoming; now unplugged and replaced with his old white lights that filled the house with a sense of melancholy.
your perfume stored away in a box as your scent slowly faded off the fabric of the furniture.
the only remembrance that you had once been here being your personal belongings that sae couldn't quite get rid of, stored away in boxes.
your daughter constantly locked away in her room—somewhere she wouldn't have to look him in the eyes for him to know that she blamed him for all of it.
the house was quiet, empty.
sae was never there; your daughter always returning back to an empty house with only leftovers in the fridge.
the tv that once used to make a home in a living room where a mother and her children would support their football player father through the screen, now empty and lifeless.
living with toji as your husband and toddler!megumi as your son was amazing, but often stressful.
you were in the kitchen enjoying your coffee when you realised it had been quiet for just a little bit too long. you straighten, putting your phone down.
"megs? where are you baby?"
"i'm with papa!" he calls out, voice coming from the living room. "we not doing anything!"
you sigh at his obvious guilt, making your way over to them. toji sits on the ground, arms supporting him with his legs spread out in front of him. megumi is standing beside him, legs bends slightly with a focused look on his face.
"what are you two doing in here?"
"shh, ma. watch."
you huff and cross your arms at toji's dismissal, waiting for something to appear or happen, when suddenly a little puppy pops out from under the coffee table.
"i did it! i did it papa!" megumi screams, jumping up and down at the little creature he created. your jaw drops and you look at toji.
"did you teach him this?"
"i just gave him a few tips, he practically had it already."
you continue to watch as megumi plays with the white puppy, stumbling over his feet to try and keep up with it. you sit down next to toji, leaning against him as his arm pulls you in close.
"y'know, i'm pretty sure a sister could teach him better than any dog." he whispers, planting a kiss onto your temple. you let out a breathy laugh.
"oh, of course. why not give him three?"
"don't test me. we can make it happen tonight." he gives you a meaningful look, highlighting his seriousness before he calls out to megumi.
"hey brat, how would you feel about a baby sister?"
megumi pauses where he is standing, turning to look at you both with his little mouth open.
"i wan one! i take care of it." he claims, little fists clenching in excitement. toji chuckles, pulling you even closer.
"you heard the kid."
"pwease mama! i be really really nice to her!"
you laugh at your silly little family, pulling megumi close to you so you are all cuddling each other. toji's broad arms wrap around you both, kissing your head and ruffling megumi's hair.
A/N: im literally in my follicular phase and I wanted to write papa dragon sylus so here we are. I got my main inspo from @embetiee and this specific art of dragon sy and mc together 🥺— this is gnawing on my brain SO SO GOOD also @syynon literally begged me to tag me for this so rhehe there you go Sylus ovi is ITCHING MY BRAIN SO SO GOOD
Content warnings: eggnancy, egg babies to be, soft papa sylus and mama reader, pregnancy, fluff contents, don't like dont read
Word count: 598 words
Divider by : @diviniyae
To say carrying a small clutch of dragon eggs is heavy, is an understatement to your current situation.
You huff, trying to find a sense of comfort in a nest made out of the finest silks and feathers collected by your most dearest husband, Sylus. Holding your heavy stomach with one hand, your tail swishing from left to right with agitation. Once you found a comfortable place to rest— near the center of the rest, beneath three layers of silk, you sigh with relief.
"There we go," You rub your swollen stomach, feeling the little ones move inside— how many eggs were you carrying again according to Sylus? Two? Three? The numbers seemed to blur in your pregnant brain,
"Now stay still. I need to rest before your father—"
"Yes?" You hear Sylus from outside, the deep rumble of his voice seem to wake up the little ones within you, making you groan with annoyance.
3 minutes and a half was the longest time you were comfortable until it was interrupted.
He enters the cave you both call home, carrying a new bundle of silk on one hand and game on the other. Setting both aside, he approaches you and presses a soft kiss on the spot in between the horns that have emerged as an exchange of souls and promise of eternity by each other's sides, before kissing the highest point of your baby bump.
"I was resting comfortably, and then you opened your mouth and woke up our children," You roll your eyes and look away.
Sylus laughs, cupping your cheeks to face him, "It seems like I've disturbed their slumber then…"
"And mine as well."
"And yours as well," Sylus repeats and kisses her again, "How shall I make it up to my sweetie?"
You hum for a moment, placing your finger on your chin as you push Sylus off to the side to readjust yourself once more. Sylus helps, placing one hand on your back and the other lifting up your stomach,
"Careful mama," Sylus whispers softly, his voice carries heavy with absolute devotion and care, "I dont want you or the little ones getting hurt."
Your cheeks flood a bright red as you try to look away. Sylus merely laughs and helps you along until you were comfortable once more, cuddled up beside him, his hands enveloping your growing stomach. He kisses your forehead and slowly makes his way down your face until he reaches your lips. He cups your face with one hand and asks, "May I?"
You nod and he kisses you, his lips felt like a comfortable and warmth fire that slowly brings comfort to your heart. You pull away moments later, smiling at Sylus. He smiles back and rubs your stomach, the eggs shifting lower inside you, "They'll be here soon…"
"Hmm…" You nuzzle close, "Sy, we're hungry, what did you bring?"
"Goat, shall that do?"
You hum again. Sylus gets up slowly, making sure to bundle you in silks that smell like him. "Get some rest, I'll wake you up once food's ready."
"Okay…thank you, my love."
Sylus approaches the nest once more and kisses her again, "I love you, my soul."
In the silence of their cave, the fires give a gentle glow around it, Sylus kept his eyes on the cooking meat, and occasionally at a sleeping you.
When the time comes, perhaps around late winter or early spring, the clutch of dragon eggs would enter the world and you and Sylus would call yourselves parents, but for now? Perhaps husband and wife will do.
A/n: tumblr posted it again BEFORE I CAN FINISH ADDING MY AUTHOR'S NOTE😭 I CANT BELIEVE I WROTE AND POST THIS ON THIS ACC PLEASE DONT KILL ME PLEASE DONT SEND BAD THINGS TO MY ACCOUNT
husband!aiku headcannons [aged up aiku & reader 25-26] 𖹭.ᐟ
husband!aiku who's love language has to be physical touch. the man can never keep his hands to himself. and he can never survive a day without your touch either. he's whipped, obsessed if you will. really.
husband!aiku who never shuts up about his wife, and that he now has a ring on his finger. he always mentions it too in interviews. “my lucky charm? yeah it has to be my wife. she’s always there for me and never leaves my side, and if you think about it, i tend to score and make more assists when she’s in the stands. so to answer your question, she’s my lucky charm.
husband!aiku who has this celebration of tracing your initials in the air. it has been his signature celebration since the two of you starting dating. and when asked about it, he goes; ''my celebration? its my wife’s initials. and im not planning on changing it.” then later giggles like a school girl because he saw you in the stands.
husband!aiku who texts you immediately after training. not even about anything important. just "miss you'' or ''training was soo boring today'' and stuff like that. and when you don't reply fast enough, he texts you ''guess my WIFE forgot about me (broken heart emoji)''.
husband!aiku who loves his domestic life more than he expected. this is a man used to thrive in chaos, and now hes standing in the kitchen at 2am making you snacks because you said you were craving something.
husband!aiku who keeps a picture of you as his phone wallpaper, lockscreen and hidden in his wallet. and when his teammates tease him, he doesn't even deny it. ''what? you wouldn't do the same if you had my wife?''
husband!aiku who always looks for you in the stands first. before the game, during warm ups, after scoring, his eyes are scanning the crowd until he finds you. and the second he does, his whole demeanor shifts. more confident, more cocky, more him. because you're there.
husband!aiku who falls asleep faster when you're touching him. even if its just your hand on his arm or your leg brushing his. if you move away, he notices immediately - half asleep, he just reaches for you again and mumbles ''come back''.
husband!aiku who brags about you in the most casual ways. ''my wife made this'' ''my wife told me that'' ''my wife likes that place'' its never forced. it just comes up. constantly.
husband!aiku who still flirts with you like you're not married. he refuses to let things get boring. ''who's that fine babe, can i get your number, pretty?'' and when you roll your eyes, he just chuckled and wraps an arm around your waist. ''oh c'mon, don't tell me you don't miss my flirting ways.''
husband!aiku who always sits way too close to you. like there is an entire couch, and he's still pressed against your side, arm slung around you, fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on your skin. and if you ask him to move, he just goes ''why?'' like its the most unreasonable request ever.
husband!aiku who loves hearing you call him your husband. you don't even have to mean anything by it - just a casual ''my husband said-'' and he's immediately looking at you like you just said something life-changing. ''say that again'' he says, a smirk slowly forming on his lips. and when you do, he blushes furiously and cannot stop thinking about anything else that day.
husband!aiku who has zero shame about pda. arm around your waist, hand in yours, kissing your temple mid-conversation, he does not care who's watching. if someone calls him out, he just shrugs. ''i'm married. what do you want me to do, act single?'' then scoffs to himself, rolling his eyes.
husband!aiku who gets way to smug when you wear anything he bought you. he notices it instantly. every time. ''that's the one i picked, right?'' and when you confirm it, he looks ridiculously pleased with himself for the rest of the day.
husband!aiku who always celebrates with you first. win or lose, his first instinct it to find you, pull you in and press a quick kiss to your forehead like it grounds him. everything else comes second.
husband!aiku who loves lazy mornings with you more than any big date. tangled sheets, quiet conversations, his hand resting on your waist like it belongs there. he'll just look at you, soft smile and all, and go ''we don't have to get up yet.'' mind you, the man has training in ten minutes.
a/n first post on this acc ! so this was originally a request from my friend. (j i know ure reading this) but yeah i lwk had so much fun writing this. english is not my first language so pls dont mind any writing mistakes, other than that theres nothing more to add !
Just yesterday, he was a little baby, defenseless to the world, could barely lift his head on his own and needed either yours or Sae's help to do basically anything. But now that he’s a toddler, he’s getting more and more independent by the day, not to mention he is getting much bigger too. So it’s only normal that his clothes and little baby shoes wouldn’t fit him anymore.
Hence why you two are shopping together this evening, in search of new things for him to wear that will probably not fit in the next few weeks anyways. It was just the two of you today as Sae was playing abroad currently, but his presence was still felt because you kept on sending pictures of all the outfits you’ve built for your son during your little shopping trip, which is being sponsored by your dear husband, of course.
After going to a bunch of clothing stores and getting something that caught your son’s fancy — which was a harder task than you expected. He’s very picky and knows what he likes even at such a young age — you walk into a sports department store, now looking for some new cleats for your son to wear in his football practice.
“[S/N] baby, do you like this colour?” You pick up a pair of cleats that you think he’d like, but when you turn around to show them to him…he’s not there.
And obviously you started to panic.
“[S/N]? Where are you?” you don’t even care that people are looking your way funny right now, all you care about is finding your son. Just where the hell did this kid go? Why does he feel the need to give you random heart attacks like this all of the time? “[S/N], you’re scaring me now. Where are you—”
Just as you were about to really lose your mind, you found him, and you let out a sigh of relief.
You would’ve scolded him for walking away from you and making you worry, but you see him hold onto a cardboard cutout of Sae displayed in the store due to some partnership he has, that anger caused by the small panic episode he gave you fades away.
“Papa? Why are you here…” God he’s so cute…
“Baby, that’s not papa. Papa is in another country now, remember?” He doesn’t seem to listen to you, he keeps on holding onto the cutout and even goes as far as to hug it and that makes your heart melt even more.
Guess you have to take a picture of this too and send it to Sae. Maybe seeing how much his son misses him will make him play better.
an — sae's cutout is hitting the u-20 arc pose iykyk
₊˚⊹♡ You and Sae go to your son’s first sports day!
“They all fucking suck.”
“Sae, be nice...”
You say this but secretly you agree with your husband. These kids cannot kick a ball to save their lives and honestly, you can’t wait for this to be over.
It’s a whopping 36ºC right now, unnecessarily hot for a mid spring day and a huge inconvenience when you have to stand in the heat for the next 3 hours as well. You're surrounded by a mixture of other equally bored parents, people cheering way too loud or making pointless small talk, bragging about their “little angels” to each other, and dad’s yelling at little children for not passing to their kid who’d probably perform just as bad as all the others.
As much as you’re hating this whole experience, you’d hate yourself more if you skipped it.
Your son has been talking about this event for weeks on end now and he sounded so excited to show you two, but especially to his father, how much he has improved with his football skills…but damn it it’s so hot today and you’re so bored…and if you hear another grown man scream again you might just lose it…
“Tsk, this is fucking ridiculous.” Your husband’s grumbling takes you away from your inner thoughts.
“What is?”
“I can’t believe they’ve benched [S/N] of all people…” He mutters, “Why didn’t they bench Takahiro or something… He doesn’t even know how to do a proper pass. Stupid kid.”
A few of the other parents are giving you not so pleasant looks, “Sae, I said be nice. It’s only the first half. Maybe he’ll come in soon.”
“I’d put him in now if I was the coach. They’re already losing and won’t be able to catch up in the second half at this rate.”
“Maybe they’re just waiting for the right time.”
“That time is now…this coach doesn’t know what he’s doing.” You see his furrowed eyebrows from underneath his black cap.
The frustration he’s feeling is shared. You also don’t understand why your son is benched, but you don’t want to voice that though in fear of coming out as one of the narcissistic parents that think their kid is a blessing from the heavens walking amongst the commoners in their school’s playground.
The two of you shift your gazes to your kid, who’s sat on the bench looking just as vexed as his father — they have the exact same expressions on and it it’s the first time you’ve felt entertained since this event started — and it breaks your heart to see how angry he is. Your son has never been much of a crybaby, instead when feelings of sadness consume him, he shuts down rather than letting any tears run down his face. And you can tell that’s what he’s doing…if you were there next to him you’d console him, but from this distance, all you can hope for is that the coach lets him have his moment at least once during this match.
3-3 and 15 minutes left of the match.
And your son was only allowed in. After Sae gave the coach a death stare after the opposite team scored their third goal…but that’s besides the point.
To absolutely no one’s surprise, he was playing quite well. He wasn’t lying when he said he improved his skills. Watching score a goal made you oh so proud…so much so that you’ve joined the hoard of parents you are recording the match on their phones while cheering.
“Sae, move your head man! I’m trying to record!”
“And I’m trying to give these kids instructions cus their coach sucks — You! Pass to [S/N], you don’t know what you’re doing!”
Maybe the day's heat caused both your brains to melt, because you’re acting like the people you were secretly judging not even 30 minutes ago…
Either way doesn’t matter. What mattered is that your son’s class is one goal away from winning — All thanks to him, of course.
And when they did win, it was all thanks to him, again. Obviously. It’s your son we’re talking about after all.
He came running into your arms, sweaty, smelling slightly of grass and getting your new designer clothes dirty in the process too…but you’re okay with that. His happiness is worth a lot more.
“You saw how I scored twice?!”
“I did, and I recorded it too! You did so good, we’re proud of you.”
“You did well," Sae crushed down and ruffled the boy’s hair, in a quite awkward way, but you can see the affection behind his action. “Even though they didn’t stand a chance against you from the start to be fair…they’re all terrible”
“Sae…”
“What. It’s the truth.” "Yeah, dad's right."
Seems like your son needs to improve on his sportsmanship skills next...
an — this is a luh rushed but eh also i claim to not like sae but sure write for him a lot huh...+ i have his nendoroid but shhhhush
Sukuna's younger brothers were a menace. Did he always think of that? No. Well... sometimes he did. This was one of those times.
Sukuna is a heavy sleeper. Everyone knows that. His alarm clock wakes everyone up before he wakes up himself. And he has this stupid, loud alarm clock that sounds like a firetruck playing its siren and is stationed at your house.
But low and behold, Sukuna, for the first time, wakes up to the feeling of a hand slapping his face. Not the adult sized hand, a small small hand the size of one of his brother's. His eyes shot wide and finds his two younger brothers staring down at him.
"What the fuck are you both doing?" He asks in annoyance. "Move, Kuna," Choso says pushing the older man's face as if it'll move him. Yuji saw his brother struggling and decides to help by pushing Sukuna's arm, but all their efforts die in vain when Sukuna did not move a single inch.
"Get off me! Go back to bed you two!" Sukuna says scoldingly but not loud enough to wake you up who was turned away from him. "No, wanna sleep here," Choso announces and huffs in defiance at his brother, crossing his arm. Yuji turns to Choso and copies his position along with trying his best to scrunch his face together to look angry. This attempt would've made Sukuna melt and laugh, but not this time.
"Go back to your room!" Sukuna pushes, grabbing Yuji and Choso by the back of their pajamas that you recently bought for them and puts them on the floor beside the bed.
"No, Kuna!" Choso yells and tries to grab his brother's arm while Yuji attempted to bite him to which he succeeded, earning a yelp from Sukuna. "Hey! I told you no biting!" Choso continued to grab on his brothers arm while Yuji continued to take a bite out of him.
"Ryo?" You called out. The older two stopped when hearing your voice, but Yuji took a last bite before finally settling down. Sukuna let's go of the two and fully turns to you. "Why did you wake them up? They have school in the morning," you scolded gently. Sukuna's jaw drops and turns to them then back at you. "Wha— THEY woke me up! They slapped me!" He said, pointing at the two menace.
"We'll just go," Choso says sadly. "Let's go, Yuji," He says before taking the four-year-old and carrying him in his arms. "No more y/n?" Yuji asks, turning to you. "Kuna doesn't like us," Choso says, slowly walking away. "Wha— HEY! I never said that, brat!" Sukuna yells. You turn to Sukuna, a disappointed look on your face. Sukuna sighs at this and rubs his face. "Come back here, you two," Sukuna says before Choso and Yuji fully leave the room.
Choso's and Yuji's face lights up and walk back to your shared bed. Sukuna lets out another sigh and grab the two and set them on the bed between you two. Sukuna tucks the two in sets his head back on his pillow. "Goodnight, Y/n!" They both bid. You smile and place a kiss on their forehead. "Goodnight, my loves," you say before drapping your arm around both of them.
"Hey! Where's my goodnight at too?" Sukuna asks loudly, the two turn to him and bid him goodnight. "Goodnight, Kuna," They say.
"Next time, I'm locking you in your room," Sukuna threatens, but all of you know there was no heat to his words.
Yes, Sukuna may think they're both a menace that thrives off by annoying him and stealing his partner's attention away from him. He may not be expressive when it comes to affection, but nothing could deny that Sukuna does love his brothers. Especially not when you know that the reason why Sukuna was more irritable in the morning was because he watched both of his brothers fall asleep first before he finally shut his eyes.
if there's one routine that is stuck with kashiel since he was one day old, it's the compulsory good night kisses he receives and gives before closing his eyes every night.
the only kind of kiss he knows all his life is warm, safe and sweet. so imagine his utter shock and betrayal to find out there's an unlikeable kind of kiss he'd actually received from mummy?
"daddy eugh, my mouf yucky! mouf hot, why mummy skin hot?!" kashiel shrieks frantically in your shared bed, tossing the thick blanket to reach his daddy at the other side of your bed.
rafayel catches his son with a hushed oof. kashiel practically lunges onto him. his little frown printed all over his face as he slumps into daddy's crossed legs. the said hot mouf is jutted, resembling the silicone yellow duckies in the bathroom rafayel thinks. then kashiel grabs daddy's hand, turning the palm against his lips and begins using it to wipe his burning lips like it's a napkin.
stifling a laugh, rafayel glances at your peaceful, sleeping figure. he understands what kashiel means by 'hot' sensation from kissing your forehead. you have been sick all day. complaining about how your brain was splitting open your skull earlier. between your drowsy griping with your head in his lap, he had rubbed your favourite medicated oil all over your throbbing temple.
imagine how pouty kashiel got when daddy told him mummy can't give goodnight kisses tonight. so in all stubbornness a toddler's body can yield, he tailed after rafayel into your shared bedroom, insisting that the last thing he must see before sleeping is mummy.
but your baby failed to understand yet why no good night kisses? sure mummy is asleep already but he can give mummy forehead kiss like you always do to him. soooo he had to just smooch your very cool temple of course before rafayel could warn him
"shh," rafayel pokes the exposed tummy with his other hand. "is it still burning?" he gently swipes his thumb over his son's lips, removing excess of deposited peppermint infused medicated oil there.
the pout is still there, still in disbelief. kashiel shakes his head. his lips feel better now.
"i forgot mummy put some oil on her head before she slept. that's why it burns a bit when you kissed mummy."
"oi'? like oi' daddy use when i sick? you put here." kashiel gestures to his chest, remembering back when daddy would rub something on his chest during his fever. as the memory flashes in his mind, it clicks that the burning sensation feels familiar.
"yes, that oil."
"mummy sick.." it's a miserable feeling blooming in his tiny heart. he remembers just how painful it was being sick. he's more dejected now imagining you're suffering in the same pain that daddy had to use the same medication on you too.
"it's okay. mummy promised she'll get better when she slept earlier. and daddy knows she feels so much better when you kissed her just now." standing up, rafayel picks up his son to head back to kashiel's bedroom and put him to sleep.
a small, defeated hum leaves the tiny boy as he's tucked in his bed. basking in the silence and the gentlest crashing waves outside as he watches daddy's routine adjusting the night lamp, checking the window and the baby monitor. finally, rafayel returns to kashiel's side and bends down to kiss him good night.
"good night, baby fishie."
"night, night daddy. care mummy, kay?"
"okay. of course." with a last peck to his son's fluttering eyelids, rafayel smiles, for the luckiest man he is.
"daddy noo!!!" this week has been a total disaster for both kashiel and rafayel.
one. kashiel just discovered he can trade his short legs for a pretty, chubby tail.
two. he now loveees to bathe and soak in the tub for HOURS in that tail. every "10 minutes, daddy" is the biggest lie this boy ever came up with. because the promised 10 minutes will drag to 2 or 3 hours.
three. rafayel questions his ancestors if this child is truly just a confused lemurian. kashiel apparently loves water, except he screeches when daddy proposes to take him swimming in the vast ocean instead. his son likes tap water in the confined porcelain bathtub and hates the concept of ocean? make it make sense!
"raf! what are you doing?" your jaw falls seeing your husband holding your baby upside down by kashiel's end of tail, droplets of water from your son's mop of hair drenching the polished and dry floor.
"MUMMY! daddy wan'to throw me in water!" rafayel rolls his eyes at the exaggeration.
"what water?"
kashiel urgently flails in struggle to point at the glistening ocean outside their house. "that water! big scary water."
"the ocean?"
you try to not show how confused you are.. your half lemurian baby who possesses a fully functioning tail.. is scared of the ocean? his supposed nature and home, one he can breathe and lives in?
"if you love your tail so much, you might as well put it to practice and use it to explore the ocean, baby. the ocean is much cooler than that little bathtub." rafayel interrupts. and the boy immediately writhes in disagreement and whines about how he's sure it's not that fun.
"daddy will swim with you. 's not like i'm going to dunk you in the ocean by yourself and leave." right, definitely not the best example to come up with because kashiel screams in distraught, imagining the opposite of daddy's words. he has lost every littlest bits of trust for daddy.
you inch closer and your husband holds kashiel upright again, handing the little bundle towards your open arms. "mummy.."
"oh, baby. how long did you bath?"
"10 min–"
"don't lie. he did 2 hours." right on cue as fiery little merboy glares at daddy.
"hm, don't you think it's better if we spend 3 hours learning how to swim in the ocean, baby? do you know how to swim, kash?"
kashiel pouts, as he flaps his wet tail nervously. little fingers fiddling with the shells and pearls crusted necklace on your neck. one that he and rafayel made together and gifted you some weeks ago during their last failed attempt swimming underwater. "but mummy.. i know to swim."
"oh you do?" you ask suspiciously.
"sure he does if sinking to the seabed and wailing like a whale calling for another whale count as swimming."
"eeee i no wail like whale!"
you see, your husband's critical issue with pissing off your son is one thing, but the priority here is to finally convince kashiel to be brave and embrace his nature. it's obvious he's terrified for another attempt under the salty water because of the funny and embarrassing little accident he had during his first time with daddy few weeks ago.
which is, sinking to the seabed, exactly like rafayel claims. kashiel had come back home, face blotchy and wet with tears because a school of shrimps laughed at him when he fell face first in the ocean depth.
"daddy's pretty sure the conch sealed your scream last week. maybe we can go and find it–"
"rafayel, enough."
"yes, ma'am."
hiking kashiel higher in your arms, you pat the chub of his glistening tail. "give it a try, please? won't you, baby? mummy promises to wait for you and daddy."
lips jutted in conflict as he leans his little head against your chest. "wait on that white thingy," he states firmly.
"the yacht, yes."
"pinkie, mummy?"
"promise."
his tail flaps in relief as your pinkie links with his. now looking at the waiting daddy. "daddy pinkie too! no leave me with mr. whale."
"yeah, yeah. i promise." he stalks closer to replicate the same little gesture to seal his promise.
"a brave boy with the prettiest scales like you should show off his tail to his ocean friends." your words of assurance elicits a brilliant smile from the sweet boy who's now back in daddy's arms.
"i give you my scale, mummy!" he reaches down to pluck one of his sclaes but both of you beat him to it.
your husband yanks those fast hands away, telling kashiel a stern no as the boy pouts. he understands the prohibition but his scales are so pretty! he just wanna give everyone a piece of it! (well, kashiel already gave you few. it's more than enough for your own lovely collection.)
and when your two favorite lemurians finally return to the surface of the sea when the sun is slowly setting, kashiel squeals in delight because he can finally use his tail. showing off how he propels those fins to swim underneath. how his ocean friends sung praises to the lemurian child. babbling every little part of his adventure with daddy while rafayel shifts back to his pair of legs, sailing all of you back to the shore.
under sukuna’s observation, you always seemed to have small things you did in routine, and since the two of you had gotten married they’d increased in frequency.
currently you’re curled up in bed next to him, scrolling on your phone, where he is obliged to watch because according to you, this is ‘bonding time’.
“i don’t want to watch this” he flicks your screen, moving onto the next video.
your features scrunch up into a frown, “but i do!” you scroll back.
sukuna pokes your cheek with a finger, “i don’t”
“since when did you get so demanding?” you raise a brow.
“you married me” he remarks.
“actually you proposed, twice, remember?” you pause thoughtfully, for nostalgia ofcourse “but this is important, let me watch”
sukuna playfully rolls his eyes, “you watch liquids with weird consistencies and people calling it a ‘slime unboxing’ what is so important about this?”
you huff, stray piece of your hair flying up, “i watch it because it’s satisfying”
“oh right satisfying” he mocks your tone.
“kuna!” you nudge his side, and he laughs, his arm which you were currently laying on pulls you in tighter so he could nuzzle your cheek.
“i’m trying to relax and you’re laughing!” you say with a dramatic flare, resuming the video with a pout.
and then suddenly out of nowhere, a small head of pink hair pops up between the two of you under the blanket, little eyes focused on the ‘slime unboxing’ playing on your phone.
you exchange a look with your husband before you burst into laughter, clutching your stomach.
baby!yuji blinks staring at you and then his father, as if his appearance out of thin air was completely normal.
catching your breath, you rub a stray tear of joy from the side of your eye, lightly tugging your son’s cheek, “yuji, when did you get here?”
he thinks, quite hard for a three year old then replies bluntly, “yuji walk”
without any explanation, sukuna picks yuji up lifting him into the air while laying down on his back. yuji now completely helpless, flails around giggling.
“how did you get here son?” sukuna blows raspberry’s onto yuji’s tummy, causing him to erupt into further bouts of giggles.
“i walk! i walk!” yuji exclaims kicking his legs with excitement.
you rest your face on sukuna’s shoulder, your cheek smushed up, as you suggest “i think he flew”
“yeah? did you fly son? like this?” he moves yuji around the air like a plane, “does yuji have powers?” sukuna’s voice booms out, full of endearment.
yuji covers his face with his tiny hands, smiling and shaking his head no.
“i think we believe him” you nod, meeting your husbands gaze and returning yuji to his rightful slot between the two of you.
the slime unboxing video continues with one unwilling and two willing viewers.
"what am i to do with you frivolous little creatures?" your husband grunts though there is no real malice behind his words.
if anyone approached sukuna years ago and told him that he'd be wrapped around the fingers of a lover and two children, he would've beat the shit out of them.
but here he is— sprawled out on a large, animal-themed playmate with his two adorably irresistible infant children.
your daughter coos affectionately at her father, small mouth forming a smile. her twin brother copies her actions and raises his limbs to wiggle them in the air. sukuna feels how his heartstrings begin to reluctantly tug. how could he ever be his aloof self when around his own flesh?
"i see you have inherited your mother's sense of humor, towa." he observes as his large fingers pluck your son's foot, causing him to babble in delight. sukuna's attention shifts to your daughter. "as for you, yuwa—"
"am i interrupting a moment with babies and daddy?"
your husband's head immediately snaps towards the direction of your voice. there's a natural, maternal softness illuminating your figure, a glow that draws sukuna towards you. you bend down to pick up your daughter, purring as you kiss her cheek.
"my sweet yuwa," you say before lifting her up to check her diaper. "someone's a little stinky— don't you think, kuna?" you ask, followed by kissy noises to your daughter.
sukuna doesn't answer. he's enamoured by the sight in front of him— you, his darling wife and his precious daughter. what knocks him out of the trance is his son, who delivers a playful kick to his face.
he huffs when he faces his son, eyes narrowing slightly. "only six months of age and you are already plotting against me, towa." your son lets out a mixture of a giggle and babble, causing your husband to bring down his front. "it seems that i am raising you and your sister well."
"da… dada—!" towa blurts out before seemingly clapping his hands and wiggling his legs. both you and sukuna's eyes widden at the sudden action.
sukuna then picks and lifts your son into the air, tossing him up every few seconds. "mind repeating what you just said, towa?" he presses playfully— a rare side of him.
"dada!" your son babbles happily. "dadadadada!"
as if interlinked, your daughter begins to reach her tiny hands out to her father. "d—dada!" yuwa squeals, making grabbing motions with her fingers. you transfer her over to sukuna, who professionally handles the two of them in his arms.
immediately she begins to paw at sukuna's face, to you stifle a giggle and assuringly pat his back. "you've gained a few followers, kuna."
sukuna rolls his eyes. "they know who their 'dada' is."
You were met with no reply, voice echoing the empty halls of Sukuna’s chambers. Silence settled into the air as you set off in search of your husband.
“Ryomen, do not ignore me.”
A frustrated sigh escaped you, temper running short. It had been almost an entire day yet your husband still had not returned from his recent raid of the neighbouring village.
Just as you brushed past you and your husband’s shared chamber a disgruntled sound caught your attention. It sounded similar to a hiss yet something was added onto the catlike noise. You peered in to find a large clump of fur slumped against the sheets.
At first you assumed it to be some sort of sacrifice Uraume had retrieved but upon further inspection it seemed to be… moving?
This… thing upon your bed seemed to be a very strange looking animal. Two bushy tails swayed lazily as it lay there. Its fur was pink and its face appeared to be slightly distorted.
Then it clicked.
“Ryomen, my husband. Is that you?”
A very grumpy hiss followed confirming your suspensions.
You cautiously approached your feline husband, bed dipping under your weight as you sat. He had six legs and four eyes, one side of his face held the similar distortion his human form held.
The sight was very much one to behold.
You stifled a laugh as you reached out to stroke his back, not without an angry hiss from Sukuna. “Shh kitty, be nice.” You scolded, nails raking through his thick fur.
“You are quite large, my husband, even as a feline.” Another annoyed huzz followes your words, yet he seemed to lean into your touch. He rolled over, seemingly lost in his pets. On his stomach a second mouth opened, tongue lolling out as if to show how relaxed your husband had become.
“Ryo, you are as strange as an animal as you are a man.” His red eyes opened to glance at you, although this time instead of a hiss you were met by his content purring.
Before you could begin to coo at him Sukuna climbed onto your lap, already lost in head scratches and tummy rubs. His weight pressed into you, all six paws folding in si he could sit as a loaf in your lap.
His purring continued as you stroked him, eyes fluttered shut in content. “I will assume that a curse had struck you while you were marauding, husband.”
Sukuna meowed in response, ears twitching ever so slightly. “I see… shall you continue to feast on humans or may Uraume fetch some fish for you.” He meowed once more, this time more eagerly.
“Dear husband, I do not understand these noises, although that may have been my mistake for asking.” Your hand continued to stroke him, occasionally reaching to scratch behind his ears to hear his purring grow louder.
You shifted as his weight pressed further into your thighs, your legs had began to tingle from his excessive weight. “Ryomen, my dear may you please move, you are quite heavy.”
You were met with a nip to your hand and yet another grumpy hiss.
darlings note 💌: inspired by this by @/rina-teatia
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