Masterlist - Ideas
Here are my fic ideas for some of my favorite characters feel free to use 😂
Jujutsu Kaisen
One Piece
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Monterey Bay Aquarium
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
h

tannertan36
dirt enthusiast
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Not today Justin
cherry valley forever

ellievsbear
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
noise dept.
$LAYYYTER

Kiana Khansmith

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
will byers stan first human second
i don't do bad sauce passes

PR's Tumblrdome
Keni
seen from United States

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seen from Malaysia

seen from Canada

seen from Canada

seen from Netherlands
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Paraguay
seen from United States

seen from Indonesia
seen from United States
seen from Croatia
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Germany

seen from United States
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seen from United States
@moonnime
Masterlist - Ideas
Here are my fic ideas for some of my favorite characters feel free to use 😂
Jujutsu Kaisen
One Piece
the man before the king of curses: the fire's life cycle
synopsis: part 3 before the king of curses, there was sukuna, the human who never knew the existence of love nor understood what softness humanity could hold. when he met you, he learned how a person could be his weakness but could forcibly become the sacrifice of leaving humanity behind for the golden age of jujutsu part 1 part 2 is available contains: kinda sfw, romance with lotssss of tension, graphic violence, trueform!Sukuna, spoiler alert this is where you die, afab word count: 12.2k
To love a person was simple, but whatever that came when two people loved each other was at times, complicated. Love changed the marital dynamics of your parents, but to you, their love was irrational. You never understood why your mother stayed in her marriage, why your father laid his bed with different women, why your mother came with marks on her chest after her night shifts for a couple of times, why your father still chased after your mother for her affection. Your father who was supposed to be a provider but oftentimes, struggled. And, your mother accepted that fate, albeit she never wished it upon you.
Entwined in each other’s arms, they reconciled at some point and those marital affairs ceased to exist. You caught them with their lips pressed onto each other at the time, hid away from their plain sight and left because you didn’t want to interrupt.
After everything that your family had been through, all the financial hardships, infidelity, and your harsh lessons to prepare your future; why did they still want to love each other?
Did the pain or damage not mean anything to them?
Why were you born to be caught in the middle?
You recalled your mother’s words as she bathed you in rice milk after scrubbing your body with a plummet stone, “I love your father, truly, but he is truly hell’s suffering and we, of all people, had to endure it. Don’t ever marry for love only, you’re better off marrying someone who is stable. Love can come afterwards.”
“Mama, if you say it like that, why do you even stay with papa?” You heard her sighed, not out of frustration of you questioning her choice, rather out of conforming to the situation. She dunked a whole bucket of water to rinse you off completely, you rasped from the coldness, shuddering.
“It’s not that simple, we met and married younger than your current age, we got thrown to the world on our own because our families believed we were capable for our age. We only had each other but, loving him was… easy, I am his curse and he is my curse. I suppose that is the curse of love.” Remembering the way she embraced you with fatigued arms, eyebags that carried the responsibility of the homemaker and breadwinner, she held you with all her might. “And somehow, we created a blessing. You are my child, pure of kindness, strong and you carry my pride, with that, you will carry a brighter life.”
Your mother’s words echoed while you laid on the grass next to Sukuna, observing the light through the leaves and branches of the weeping willow or the few birds that landed and chirped before their next flight. You and Sukuna, talking about anything and everything, as time passed quicker.
After everything you had endured and as much as you hated the hardship, you loved them nonetheless. It was harder to explain but you did. For every hurt, you were met with love tenfold. Even in the frugality times, your father would bring home your favourite mochi or bring new fancy clothing for your mother. Or, your mother stood proud for every milestone you accomplished since you were a child, flaunting to other mothers, even with the few snarky remarks your mother made towards you. Love was worthy because you were made from it, regardless of being born from struggle.
Your head turned to Sukuna, who had his hand reach out for the bird to land and peck the crushed roasted acorns on his palm, observing carefully then fluttering its wings away. He was relaxed, he had no wrath or anger in his heart, serene at state; people would be utterly unnerved to see the Ryomen bastard who was rageless but to you, you were glad that it was common around you. Especially since that day he revealed that palm of gentle fire.
Being with Sukuna was simple. Being by his side was natural, habitual, and you just couldn’t think of anyone else who you would return to. True that Sukuna was a respected bastard of the Ryomen clan with the most influential warlord as his father, where he had to work for his freedom. His father allowed Sukuna’s body to be marked in tattoos for stealing and slaughter, when he could have protected Sukuna’s status. Who Sukuna was to you was different, who he was by this riverbank was who he was beneath the hard exterior the world built upon him.
Years have passed, the closer of marriage duties would call upon you. There may be a time where your routine with Sukuna would eventually elapse, especially when you will marry another man as arranged by your parents. Or, he too would marry a woman who wasn’t you.
‘Don’t let it arrive, not yet.’
You peered at him, pupils dilating. Fiery eyes turned to you, you hid behind a smile. “Do you remember that I promised to take you to a marriage ceremony when we were kids?”
“That dumb promise?" Sukuna mocked, looking away sharply, his chest tightened that you were reminiscing your old pact to him.
He remembered.
How could he forget that stupid, innocent day by the river when you looked at him like he was someone worth bringing to celebrate a supposedly beautiful ceremony? You still did look at him that way this time.
Of course, he would remember.
"Yeah," he paused, voice rougher than before. "I remember."
He glanced back at you with something unreadable in his eyes. "Still planning to drag me into one?"
You sat back up, elbows on the grass, grinning in excitement. “To sneak us into one! There’s one by the temple and I’ve seen the couple countless times before, their families agreed for them to marry each other. It’s happening at night in five days.”
Sukuna stiffened, masking his skepticism.
"Sneaking into a wedding, huh?" His voice was indifferent. "How cliché."
He couldn't deny the tiny bit of excitement stirring in his chest, sitting up and shoving his hands in his yukata sleeves, trying to sound nonchalant.
"And how exactly are we going to pull off that stupid plan? We're not invited."
Then, you pulled that grin he knew since you both were children, specifically when you were pranking the priest in that small shrine by the hill.
“That’s why we’re sneaking in.”
Glowering, “This is too ridiculous."
At the agreed time, meeting somewhere near the temple where the wedding was held, you had a black kimono and gray hakama tailored perfectly to hide his two arms away in the front. It made him look bigger than he should.
Sukuna grumbled, tugging at the fabric that strained slightly over his two arms, hiding his tattoos. "I look like I’ve only eaten and drank sake without ever stepping a foot in my life.”
To add all the discomfort, he wore a fox mask to conceal his right side and you styled his hair enough to keep him unrecognisable, his messy dusty pink hair now slicked back.
With a very irritated frown, he thought of every opportunity he had before, why did he even agree to entertain this in the first place?
In line with your mother’s medical work, there were bound to be extra fabrics from patients who were dying. Some came from victims who came afar and got struck by tragedy along their travels that was too late to be saved. Some came from wealthy families within the village who believed in burning the belongings of the deceased, including the clothing they wore. Before you were tasked to bring them to the shrine for burning, you would try to snatch a few fabrics away. Just shy enough to make proper formal attire for Sukuna and yourself.
Sukuna’s kimono specifically was difficult to make since you had to conceal his two other arms and your tailoring skills were only amateur level but you tried to make yourselves appear presentable enough.
Glaring at you with flushed cheeks and gritted teeth, "Your plan better be worth this humiliation."
You couldn’t stop giggling, adjusting his obi with a small, satisfied smile.
"Just walk properly and keep quiet," you sneered, getting a head too amused that you got the Ryomen Sukuna to join in this venture. "And for goodness’ sake, don’t scowl so much, we’re going to a wedding! You’ll ruin it!"
Sukuna rolled his eyes, he let the corner of his mouth lift.
Just slightly.
That was enough for you to melt but you laughed even harder.
"Yeah, you do look ridiculous," you teased, gasping for air.
The huge contrast of the boy you knew and the one in front of you was too vast. Not that he appeared out of place, the ridiculous build that the attire had shaped his silhouette into somehow gave the impression of a big fat wealthy man who had the face of a seventeen year old.
He was still oddly charming though, you weren’t used to him being this polished in formal clothing. “You do look rather ravishing for a fat bastard,” you added, firmly patting his cheeks while he cursed the Gods for creating weddings in the first place, stretching your cheeks for ticking him off.
"Stop grumbling like that," you flicked his shoulder. "We're supposed to blend in, remember? Smile."
"Smile? I don't do smiles," he hissed, jerking back.
You adjusted his sleeve once more, smiling at him—gentle, affectionate—and the scowl faltered briefly. His eyes flicked to you in the kimono that you made from stolen scraps and memories, transforming it into a kimono catered to you. He would damn the stars if you didn’t look bright and stunning, as if you weren’t the moon walking beside him.
"Fine," he muttered through clenched teeth. "But if I'm wearing this stupid thing and playing nice, you owe me a feast."
“Granted, Ryomen-sama. Four portions of stewed rabbits and fermented cabbages with rice for your next lunch,” you chirped, everything only mattered that he was here with you.
"...And stop looking at me like that," he added quietly, avoiding your gaze before you saw the heat creeping up his neck. "We're here to sneak in, not become part of the show."
The temple and the area surrounding it was crowded—full of villagers, the couples’ relatives, and some of the local merchants. Everyone wore colorful fancy kimonos and hakamas in all sorts of colors, carrying small bouquets of flowers or holding small gifts. Occasionally, Sukuna tugged your kimono, just so that you wouldn’t stray too much from his side.
Sukuna stuck out like a sore thumb, as expected, big and imposing and clearly not meant to be there. People saw him, eyes lingering at him before they were whispering to each other about a tall wealthy merchant visiting from a different town.
"Damn it," he muttered. "Everyone's staring at me, I look like a fool."
He grumbled quietly, pulling at the fabric that itched relentlessly.
"Remind me, why am I doing this again?" He asked.
You reached up, straightening out the fabric and wrinkles, then tightening the tie. “You still haven’t gone to a marriage ceremony right? Now you’ll see why I do want to marry one day.” There was an excitement in your voice, you were looking forward to fulfilling that childish promise you made with him.
“Trust me ‘Kuna, you look great, like… really great,” you assured him, in awe.
"Great for a fat merchant's son, maybe," he mumbled, still scowling slightly and stiffened. His heart thumped in his chest because…
You were happy. Excited. Lovely.
You kept your promise, you stayed by his side, your hands created clothes even in the face of your scarcity. His discomfort at being around all these people, being in a holy place, your immense efforts to drag him in a sacred ceremony: all felt like his discomfort should be off-limits.
Because all of this couldn’t be done without you.
“You look graceful,” his voice quieter now. “Just stop hovering over me, I’m fine now.”
His chest was tighter now, not from the clothes that restricted his arms, but from your hands that soothed his nerves.
Soft, melodic flutes and strings started playing in the night air, your eyes lit up like stars as you grabbed his hand suddenly, tugging him toward a gap in the crowd near the steps.
“Come on! We can see everything from here!”
Damn it all for the Gods to create weddings that excite you. He let you pull him along without protest.
He needed to see what you saw in marriage.
He wanted to know what made you smile so brightly at the thought of marriage when you were young.
Just for tonight, just one stolen moment beneath the lantern light, he’d play along with your idiotic ideas. He would believe that he did deserve this moment. Two arms or four, monster or not—if you believed he belonged here beside you, he’ll believe it like you did. Your hand tugged his hand after, as you quietly pointed the couple’s direction.
In the distance, there was the married couple and their families walking towards the shrine with lit lanterns in their hands, a commemoration to a union. Watching the bride and groom’s marriage ritual by the shrine, the traditional music that filled the air, the lanterns swayed in the breeze, even the way the night sky sparkled above, dotted with countless tiny stars.
The mask itched. The hakama was still too tight.
None of that mattered.
The bride was beautiful in white wedding kimono, he had never seen two people who were excited to commit themselves to each other, surrounded by jubilant parents and siblings that witnessed a granted wonder to their loved ones.
Sukuna stood there, frozen as he watched the couple. Hands joined, voices steady, eyes locked with something he'd never known: devotion.
"...Huh," he murmured under his breath.
This wasn’t forced upon them.
Nor a duty like his father growling about heirs, power, knowledge, political alliances.
Nor cold or calculated.
It was wanted.
For the first time, Sukuna understood why you dreamed of marriage. It was not for status or escapism, but because you believed in the choice to spend the rest of your life with a person who you intimately cherished.
"I get it now." He mumbled to you.
The bride smiled in cheer, the groom already doting over his newly wedded wife, you felt his large hand tightened to yours too.
“Soon it will be me one day,” you whispered, expressing a bittersweet smile as the priest began the burning ceremony for the new-weds. “I will marry but… I might not marry like this.”
Sukuna tensed up at the mention of your future.
Flashes of the flames reflected the potential despair that you may encounter in your own future, you were preparing for that dreadful day. You will be wedded but not to the one you will love, to the one you marry who will pay for you and your family’s stability.
Marriages were still beautiful in your eyes, you knew you must perform your duty and survive this cruel world as a woman. Marrying for love may not be your reality for you neither for Sukuna, if his father wished to arrange his bastard’s marriage for political power. However, you prayed for the Gods to be forgiving that you could at least love Sukuna at a close distance.
To you, this was enough.
To him, he hated hearing your predestined future.
Hated thinking about the faceless men your parents would sell you off to whoever had the highest bid.
Loath the thought of you, the one who could rival the moon’s beauty, who will wear a grand white wedding kimono to marry someone else.
"Don't talk about that," he muttered, turning away. “Don’t...”
His jaw was clenched so hard it almost hurt. He could never face the idea of you with some other rich bastard who never saw you the way he did. Or anyone else, not even if the Gods created your perfect pair, he would defy it. He would not allow you to marry someone who wasn’t him.
"You’re not marrying some stranger." The words slipped out before he could stop them.
A vow to you, not a threat, he spoke it aloud because he was afraid for that day to come.
You turned to him, eyes slightly widened and curious, listening to him carefully.
"Tch, I know you heard me," he grunted, voice rough as he refused to look at you.
He stared ahead. Anywhere but your eyes, because if he did, who knows how he would spill out more of his stupid truths to you?
"They're not taking you away. Not like that." His other hand curled slightly around the edge of his sleeve, hiding how tight his grip had become, already he was confessing parts of his desire, "You’re too annoying to just let them sell you off."
The threat hung in the air—low, dark, and undeniably real.
He met your stare head-on, eyes narrowed, voice dropping into something almost dangerous.
"...You're not," he repeated, final words declaring to you. He didn’t say it but you read it in his soul, ‘I won’t let it happen.’
That was enough to burn your cheeks as the flames in the temple, you swore that the burning ceremony was nothing compared to the heat Sukuna made you feel. After a loud heartbeat, your lips curved. There was that enchanting stare you had in your eyes, sweeter than any berries that they foraged together.
You didn’t need him to say anything more, yet naturally your hands pulled each other closer, the gap between you was narrowing.
He didn’t pull away. Your fingers interlaced with his because it was natural to hold his hand firmly, engraving this memory of a fulfilled promise for the glutton you met near the creek, the boy you had grown to fall. He couldn’t pull away.
Not when the firelight danced across your face, painting gold on your skin and illuminating warmth in your eyes. It made something inside him crack with a churned stomach, heart beating.
"Stop looking at me like that," he muttered, voice barely above a whisper. "You'll make me do something stupid."
Maybe promise you more than he should.
Or burn every man who dared touch your name.
Or kneel before this shrine, declare before the gods and the flames of life, that you were his.
But instead,
He squeezed your hand once.
Tight enough to say: I mean it.
Soft enough to say: Don’t let go.
Hearts bursting hotter than the sacred fires, intense but intimate that texts or speeches would not be needed to announce what the souls were to each other.
Him to you, that reserved tenderness for you.
Like the groom to his new wife.
The bride peered over to her side to see you, almost bewildered to spot the healer’s daughter at the ceremony with a strange large handsome man beside you, uninvited but she smiled at you gently as a blessing for your presence. You froze and gave an awkward wave, sticking out a toothy grin.
“Eek Sukuna, let’s leave before my mama finds out…”
Sneaking in had been one thing, actually getting caught would be a whole different ordeal.
He dragged you out of the crowd by the hand. "You really gotta do the dumbest things," he grumbled under his breath, entertained by your embarrassment.
He didn’t look at you but his grasp hadn't loosened. "Breaking into weddings? Seriously? And now you're scared?"
Pulling you swiftly behind the temple pillars, shadows swallowing them as they slipped into the trees. The shadows of the trees surrounded them, you grabbed your previous clothes hidden in the bushes as you both ran away from the temple with near trips and muffled laughters. Not that people bothered or even noticed to chase you and Sukuna. The sounds of the ceremony faded to whispers, and the lanterns grew further and further away, finding themselves near their claimed river.
Once they were hidden and safe, he still didn’t release your hand.
Finally, he looked at you.
Even now, in this stolen moment you chortled while gasping for air and enveloping the thick fabrics, you gleamed in the moon's light. Everything about you was too much to handle yet it was never going to be enough for him.
"Idiot," he whispered, bringing you closer. "You just have to be reckless everywhere, huh? Even at weddings."
“Well, it’s your first time witnessing a wedding, maybe the first time wearing formal wedding attire?” You loosened the ties of his obi, “Though you do look handsome, I think I like your true self better than this.”
Your hands were warm against his skin, and he couldn't deny the way his pulse quickened at your touch. It didn’t occur to you what you were doing until Sukuna’s bare chest was revealed, you paused and gulped. “Ah sorry—“
When you finally pulled it open, exposing the scars running along his chest and arms, a muscle in his jaw ticked. Something in him darkened as it grew possessive.
He caught your hand on his own, holding it there.
"Don't apologize," staring down at you, his voice was husked that you felt it in your chest.
"You said you prefer my true self..." he murmured, voice low and dangerous, almost. His fingers curled gently around yours. Not pulling you back, not willing to let you go. "So don't flinch now."
Slowly, his hands moved of their own accord. One rose to catch you by the chin, tilting your face up to meet his. His other hand gripped your waist, pulling you closer until you were all but pressed chest to chest.
“I’ve always preferred you ‘Kuna.”
And you, mindlessly, your hand caressed his right side, his disfigured side. Your touch was as soft as a feather, delicate as you traced the scars and marred skin of his right side.
No one had ever touched him there without flinching or fear.
Even now, he was braced for you to pull away in revulsion. To flinch from the sensation of his skin, watch your face churned into disgust, but your touch was gentle, unafraid like the day you first spoke to him.
“You’re beautiful.” The words slipped out of your mouth, it was almost startling for you to say it aloud but it was your truth. Especially with the moon light beaming on him and the starry night in skies above him, it was a dream that you could reach.
Your eyes didn't break away, not for a single second. His chest rose and fell rapidly, his fingers digging into your waist as you traced the scars. It sent sparks through his system.
People looking away, backing away, turning away, trembling away: that was his normality.
But for you?
You gazed at him, held him like he was everything to you.
He would search even a crevice to believe what you presented to him was never genuine, whether your kindness or feelings did hold to an extent for The Cursed One. Anything to prove that manipulation was at play, you were terrified of him, or from a ridiculous obligation you made when you were young and innocent.
Every single time without fail, all he could see and feel was you drawing into him. No hesitation was made from every action you gave to him and the world, sharing your compassion in the face of resistance from society’s pressures.
"Idiot," he whispered, a crack in his tone slightly. He leaned in close enough that he could see every fleck in your eyes, feeling your breath against his skin. "You shouldn't say things like that."
"But if you keep looking at me like I'm yours..." Clinging onto you, the person who made Ryomen Sukuna believe in humanity, in living and breathing this supposed life full of serenity surrounded by you.
"...I might start believing it."
Brows furrowed and eyes sparkled in hope for a possibility to change your future reality, that having Sukuna remained in it was actually reachable to you.
You whispered to him, “I want to believe it too. Can I keep on hoping?”
His thumb ran lightly over the side of your jaw, the touch as gentle as the summer wind. He muttered, “You're such a fool, you and your goodwill, your empathy, and your selective blindness to it all. Can’t you see that you’re the beautiful one..."
Something flashed in your eyes at those words. His thumb tracing your jawline like a caress.
You bewitched him as you paused and softened, leaning into his touch.
He was a man of control—of discipline and self-restraint, it was getting harder and harder to remember that because of you. This kind, gorgeous, sweet girl with moronic, unwise ideas about marriage, and dumb dreams of a world filled with your humane nature. You were going to take his savagery nature out of him because he was unwavering in accepting your beliefs. You challenged him of the existence of goodness and the perseverance of love.
His fingers trembled slightly as they moved along your jaw, down your neck.
You were too damn close.
Too soft.
Too alluring.
He should let go. He had to or he may do something you would regret, push him away or strayed your eyes away.
And yet, your eyes gaped on his lips, his eyes flicked to your lips. They parted slightly, you were lifting your toes to move in closer, gradually as an invitation.
He clenched his jaw, fighting every instinct telling him to give in and just—
“Sukuna…”
He stopped his string of thought as you tugged his kimono.
You within his arms, willingly pulling into him within your own agency, why did he have to resist the evident blessing that remained only for him?
Hands pushing you against the nearest tree and his lips finally kissed you.
Not gentle or sweet, but a desperate kiss. A kiss forged in years of stolen glances, shared wounds, and unspoken longing. He held you there, pinned between his body and the tree because if he let go, you may vanish into the night or in the trees like a dream he shouldn’t keep. Your lips were petal soft, plush and when you gasped into him, dazed but not pulling away, it nearly broke him.
"S-stupid." He growled against your mouth between breathless presses of his lips to yours. "Don’t ever think you're not mine to begin with."
You pulled him in this time to kiss him back, reciprocating the passion and love that you retained all these years in fear that he may not choose you. Fear that he would rather choose his duties and power because you held none of it. Your fingers sinking deeper into his fabric, mumbling, “I want to be yours, let me be yours, I am yours.”
You should know better that he didn't care about bloodlines or status. He came to you as you are. Destinies were made and he has accepted that you were his to claim. He vowed to burn it down with both hands and laughed in the creation of destruction, if it meant not having you to return back to.
He groaned at your response, mixed with hunger, frustration, and need. It took every ounce of willpower he had not to pin you against that damn tree and devour you whole. Albeit, he was still a man with control and some self-restraint left to respect your decision, what you wished to proceed since he held you to the highest regard above any being.
"You have no idea what torment you have brought me since the first day you came, I cannot avoid you and I don’t ever want to," he closed his eyes as he let his forehead fall against yours.
It was taking all his blasted resolve just to keep his hands off more than he yearned to touch, just keeping his hands on your cheek and waist. He didn't trust them anywhere else, not when they were itching to slide down your sides, feel more than what was seen in his eyes. He took a deep breath, focusing on your desires as you also respired in restraint, keeping the temptations buried. This closeness was far too dangerous and they both knew it.
Cheeks were blushing deeply, biting your lip, “W-wait! Let’s not… It’s late now, mama and papa might be searching for me soon, I-I have to go.”
You wanted to cling onto your integrity, you didn’t want anything escalated further before you knew it.
The words were like a bucket of cold water, snapping him back down to reality. In the excitement, he'd almost forgotten how risky he was acting, almost careless to consider what you wanted under your terms.
He stepped back with a low curse, raking a hand through his hair as he tried to reign in the desire still coursing through his body.
"Go," he commanded finally, softly, but his voice still coarse. "Before someone finds you here with me."
You glanced at Sukuna before you hovered over to give one more quick kiss, “I’ll see you again as usual?”
He caught your wrist before you could pull away completely. His red eyes burned into yours under the moonlight, fierce and unrelenting.
"Of course you will," he growled, low and certain. "I'm not letting you disappear after that."
A pause. Then, softer:
"Come back to the river like usual, like we always do."
Smittened, you replied, “Of course, where else would it be if it means to come to you?”
In the new age of adulthood, it meant growing numb to the hardships and risks of death, and the expectations of society or family.
The ambition of Ryomen Saburou had strengthened now that his bastard became an exceptional cause for the era of sorcery. New knowledge, new information on techniques, new discoveries of domains; sorcerers of different regions came and requested for battles or training under Ryomen Saburou’s reign. With that, he had bountiful sorcerers who trained Sukuna rigorously to the point that Sukuna had to kill them for defeat. Beforehand when Sukuna entered his pubescent years, it initially started small where each opponent or trainer he faced, Sukuna had to gain something or there would be heavy consequences. Such as if Sukuna could inflict a deep slash on his opponent’s chest, there would be dinner for him by the table in the servants quarters or Sukuna wouldn’t eat for two nights.
Then, it grew to if Sukuna could hunt down a deer, two squirrels and the two prisoners his father released into the woods by the evening, Sukuna would have a dinner feast with his family. Or Sukuna will be hunted down by five sorcerers at night.
To the point, he would be battling for his life often because now, his life was precious now that he had you to live for. The more he killed or brutalised his opponents, the higher respect his father gained from sorcerers, and the more his father respected him. He didn’t care if his father would consider him as a legitimate child for every win he had against his opponent, as long as it exchanged him with independence. Anything to keep seeing you every week, every risk was worthy if it meant seeing you again.
He will honed himself into a weapon: strong, cold, emotionless.
Returning to you was all that mattered, to live in more shared memories with you, hence he will keep fighting his rights. Battles, tactics, he had done it all and would do it all, anything to lay down on the grass by your side, back to the weakest person who stood equal to him.
At the same time, you became very well known in the community for your beauty, grace and intelligence as the healer’s daughter, even under the taintness from your father’s reputation. Due to your mother’s strict regime in creating a perfect wife and letting you assist her along for medical aid, it brought so much exposure to potential suitors and proposals. Your flawed father did pull his weight up, improving the economic status of your family to keep you afloat. And, he worked himself to the bone when your mother unfortunately became pregnant again. Business journeys with neighbouring villages meant he had to be distant, he pledged to his wife he would make everything up for all the neglect and wrongdoings.
Money was flowing in, it no longer became an issue to survive harsh times but it did not cover half of the debts. His promises felt empty and hopeless, especially when the strongest woman you had known struggled to feed herself.
She grew frail now that she carried a child in her belly, you had to carry on the heavier responsibility of the household and a medic replacement when your mother couldn’t work at all. You could see her struggles, clinging to her dear life each day, and barely having emotional support from her husband. Your mother fought to live to her best ability because she knew that if she was gone, you would have been sold off to anyone who would pay the remaining accumulated debts.
The weight of it all pressed down on you like a storm with no end.
Yet you never broke, never in front of him.
You rose before dawn, tending to your mother, preparing herbs, patching wounds for villagers who couldn’t afford the typical healers. Your hands, once soft from childhood days by the river, were now marked with blisters and scars.
Yet still, you smiled. Still, you came to Sukuna as you were, loving and adoring.
When night fell and the world quieted, you ran to him as he was your salvation. He was all you yearned to keep yourself at peace.
Sprinting barefoot sometimes, breathless, exhaustion building within your veins, but still glowing to him in the moonlight like you were made of starlight itself.
Sukuna saw the exhaustion in your eyes with sunken eyebags, the new lines of strain across your face, and something inside him snapped.
One evening near the creek, you sat by the weeping willow with Sukuna’s head on your lap, speaking of your days that danced around the truth. Your fingers played with his locks before he grabbed your wrist too hard and growled:
"Stop."
Your eyes widened—confused at first, peering at him as he lifted his head up.
"You’re killing yourself," he said through clenched teeth. "For her. For your useless father who doesn’t even deserve to breathe."
He moved closer until there was barely space between you, the firelight flickering behind his back casting shadows over him, over his rage.
"You don’t need to keep living like this," he muttered harshly. "You don’t need anyone but me. We go as far as we can, run away and live on our own. Nothing is stopping us from survival, I am strong, we can hunt and gather, you can cook."
And then softer, so quiet only the wind might have heard:
"Let me take you away one day, even if I have to burn every bridge between us. We can just go… Say yes and we’ll do it together.”
You didn’t respond for a moment, your lips gaped, quivered but you bit your lip. “No, I can’t.”
The sounds of the creek and trees were muted, he gripped on your wrist lightly even though his other hand clawed on his skin.
“I-I will not. I just can’t leave my family behind. My mama is too dear to me…” There was too much guilt, you couldn’t bear to have your mother potentially raising another child. And you did not wish to leave society pressures onto your mother. Your mother was strong but you did not wish to burden her. “I love you but I will not leave behind my duty and honour, let my mother face more cruelty than she deserves.”
“I am a daughter, I am the healer’s daughter, the people of this village rely on her and eventually me. Their eyes have laid heavy on me because I had been poor, that I am now a useful asset to this village and to someone’s household.” Your brows furrowed, his declaration nearly broke you because you would let your legs run into the hills with Sukuna but the societal responsibility tied you down. “I leave her and she will be shunned, I….”
Your palm weakly pushing against his chest, “... What else is there for me to help, when all that is left for me is marriage? And if I marry a stranger?”
Sukuna's fingers tightened around you, not in anger but something deeper, raw in his emotions in front of his beloved.
"I said what I said that day, you won't marry a stranger," he said, voice low and edged like a blade. "Marry me."
The words hung in the air—wild, impossible to announce as a bastard, but he meant it.
He shifted forward until his forehead touched yours, red eyes burning into your soul.
"I don’t care about your father’s debts. I don’t care about bloodlines or status or shrines and ceremonies." His thumb brushed your cheekbone. "I’ll kill anyone who tries to take you, I’ll burn every hand that reaches for you. If you’re asking for marriage and honour, I will do it for you."
A pause. He spoke quieter:
"I’m not asking because you’re beautiful... though you are."
His voice dipped, gently.
"I'm asking because when I fight, it’s your face that keeps me breathing. When I bleed, it’s your name that keeps me standing. It’s you who I always come back to."
He pulled back just enough to look at you, intensely, and for once, there was no arrogance, no mockeries, only his truth.
"So if you don’t want to run now, then wait for me so that I will fulfill your duty. Because one day, I won’t be the bastard son but I will be Ryomen Sukuna, the legitimate son of Ryomen Saburou. I’ll be strong enough to take what’s mine, I’ll be who I need to be for you to be mine. I vow to grant you the highest honour."
He held your wrist, close to his heart, "You are mine."
His heated chest, heart pumping loud and fast. "So say it too and mean it. Marry me because you are mine as I am yours."
Just like that, he took your heart away in one breath, your tears were dwelling in happiness from his declaration to you. A proposal to marry the love of your life, you didn’t think he would say it out loud and proud, or command you because he would not think of any option in living without you in it. “Sukuna…”
A sudden strengthful force came over when you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulder, laughing as he tumbled to the ground, “I’ll marry you! Of course, I’ll wait to marry you, ‘Kuna! Yes, yes, yes, with all my life and every lifetime!”
He got too caught off guard from your embrace, how easily you made him stumble over and kept him speechless. Then, he let out a breath, low, shaky. And for the first time, he held you tightly, closer. Arms wrapping around your waist, face buried in the crook of your neck, breathing in the scent of the river water, your sweet ricemilk scent and you.
"Tch," he muttered into your skin but there was no bite to it. "You're so loud, someone might hear you."
He didn’t let go of your grasp, he couldn't. Not when you approved of his proposal, when you declared to him that you were his.
His grip tightened just a little more as if he held on long enough, fate itself would have no choice but to obey him and write it in the trees.
He whispered at last, "Don't you dare forget it."
Marriage wasn’t about sacred ceremonies, lit lanterns or priestly blessings. It was forged in the life of fire, the warmth it brings within their blood. It was two souls clinging to each other in a world that wanted them dead or apart. He would burn the Gods and their heavens if the fire meant an eternity with you.
Time lapsed, and all praise to the Gods for your mother had beaten her odds for she had miraculously survived in giving birth to a healthy son. Long awaited prayers were granted that your family’s prosperity was flourishing, your father’s debts were almost completely being paid.
Your father was away again, another business journey to secure a trade. After rocking his newborn lovingly, he left you to care for your mother and your new baby brother, in pursuit of better wealth. At least he had courtesy to leave after prayers. That evening, you had invited Sukuna to the ceremony to celebrate the birth of your baby brother at your home, albeit he had to watch you and your mother in the distance since you did not want to catch unwarranted attention, especially from your stern mother. Though you did want to show him the burning ritual for her baby brother, honouring the Gods for their blessings to your family.
The night air was cool as the small fire flickered in the courtyard, smoke curling into the star-dotted sky. You stood near your mother, exhausted but radiant, with a tiny bundle wrapped in cloth, held gently in her arms. Your mother chanted softly, casting a few herbs into the flames as a prayer for protection, for an abundance in the present life and afterlife. Your arms around your sleeping baby brother, praying and manifesting for the Gods to be forgiving in his life.
Sukuna watched from the shadows between two tall trees. He didn’t belong to the small house. This was a family, surrounded by love and resilience.
And he? He was the blood and ruin to many, a tool for war and the rising image of sorcery. Love never had been reserved for him, just terror and respect gardened from fear.
But you turned your head, just slightly, and found him in the dark. Your eyes softened, eyes calling out to him that looked within the shadows. You didn’t smile but he could see the way your fingers slightly twitched, the gentle peaceful gaze.
A look that said everything in silence, ‘You’re part of this too.’
He clenched his jaw as emotion, not something he often felt unless he was with you. It clawed at his chest.
With a brother in your hands, would that mean more responsibility on your shoulders? More chains dragging you down?
Or, was it the hope for the new birth?
His fingers brushed against a small wooden charm tucked under his sleeve—one carved crude but carefully over restless nights: two entwined figures beneath twin stars.
Not for gods or spirits to bless it, no shrine needed to hold its truth.
It would be him who vowing them safety.
Him, who will bare his hands to build a place from the ground where you wouldn't have to burn offerings hoping someone would care, praying for fortune or food by the table. Be the constant unit, instead of prayers they called for the Gods to survive again.
Still, he could not grasp at how you could fondle your baby brother with immense tender loving and care. Having another mouth to feed would mean you will eat less. Yet, he saw how similar the baby was to you. A flash in his eyes, a brief wonder to his future.
Would there be a chance that you would give birth to a child?
Your child.
His child.
‘Our child.’
You cradled your baby brother, glimpsing over to Sukuna’s hiding spot from time to time, grinning wide. And he saw what could be his future.
The thought hit him like a blade to the ribs—sharp, sudden, unbearable. ‘Fuck.’
A child that was yours and his.
His blood and yours. A tiny thing with your jubilant smile and his stubborn fiery eyes, a child that would laugh by that same river where they once skipped stones and stole moments. Something deep inside him cracked wide open.
You weren’t only a desire anymore. You were his future and hope, the realisation that this love could be reserved for him too. A complete different outlook to a life with children that were cherished regardless of how nature or society crafted them to be. You, who rebelled against his supposed nature and destiny.
His fingers curled against the tree bark, voice barely more than a whisper lost in the wind. The Cursed One had prayed.
For the first time in his life, Ryomen Sukuna didn’t think about destruction or pessimism. He silently prayed about the new home with you; a home no one could touch, a name no one would dare speak without fear, a family that never knew hatred or pain.
He didn’t wave back to you, nor smile. He lingered in the shadows longer than he should’ve as he observed you, your beloved mother and baby brother. Letting himself believe that the Gods were forgiving; your family could survive this world.
Sukuna remained after the couple of guests left the premises. Once the fire crackled down, its flames gradually grew smaller, your mother went outside despite your protests to urge her rest.
“Call the boy over please. I know that he is here, I feel it, his cursed energy is strong.” Your mother said aloud, calm and firm.
“Mama, please. You haven’t slept enough—“
“Come out now, I can sense your presence, I am not afraid.”
Sukuna froze, eyes narrowing.
He wasn’t a coward. Hell, he was rarely ever cautious, let alone caught off guard. Something in that woman’s voice made his instincts go on edge. It was frail but fierce.
He had to admire it as not many would dare call out a supposed sorcerer in daylight, let alone in the dark. Her eyes were sharp, droopy eyes glaring straight at him.
Swallowing, he finally stepped out from between the trees into the fading light. Sukuna stepped out from the shadows—slow, deliberate, like a predator testing the water. He stood there beneath the moonlight, eyes locked with your mother, who had raised you and carried strength even in her frailty.
"You're bold," he said. "Calling out a sorcerer like that."
You rushed between them, panicking. "Mother, he’s not—"
"Quiet." Your mother replied gently but cutthroat, reaching past you to study Sukuna fully.
“Finally facing the boy I’ve heard from my patients, Ryomen’s boy,” she pointed out.
Her mother’s gaze was steady, sharp, piercing like the cool fire.
Sukuna met it unflinchingly, even as you rushed in-between them, panicked.
He stared down at your mother. There was something about the way she was still filled with steel, dauntless in the face of him. Ryomen Sukuna, the perpetrator behind the brutalised sorcerers that came to your mother for healing.
He’d seen the elders of his clan.
He'd faced warriors in battle who made grown men tremble.
Yet, he felt the first stirrings of respect for this woman. It was odd, he knew he could crush her with his four palms.
“Speak. What business do you have for my daughter? Since you’re the one who takes her away often in the forest.” Your mother calmly demanded, even in the face of the danger that her patients claimed him to be the strongest sorcerer in the present age.
Sukuna didn't flinch.
He met the woman's gaze—steady, unbroken—like he was staring down a blade with no fear of bleeding.
"I'm not here for business," he said, voice rough as stone dragged through fire. "I'm here for her."
You stiffened, eyes wide. Your mother didn’t move.
Each word he spoke, deliberate, like carving truth into bone. "I’ve taken her to the river because she deserves moonlight instead of torches. I’ve stolen moments because this world tries to bury her alive beneath debts and duty."
His red eyes flicked to you, soft just for a second before returning to her.
"And if you're strong enough to carry a child after all you've suffered, then I’ll be strong enough to carry both of you."
He reached into his sleeve and pulled out the crude wooden charm: two figures entwined beneath twin stars. Knelt down, placed the charm on the ground at her feet.
"I come to you not as a servant. Not as some beggar at your door."
His voice answered to her, a tone meant only for those who dared challenge fate:
"I come to you for your blessing, as your son-in-law."
Silence fell like snow over flame. Your mother exhaled slowly. Almost in resignation but not in anger, not in fear but in recognition. After a long moment, she gave the faintest nod, one that held weight beyond words.
"In all these years you’ve taken her, not a single scratch or taint on her. You are decent and you have honour." She said quietly with finality, "You will take care of my daughter. Vow that you will or die trying."
Sukuna smirked, a single flash of fang in moonlight, as he stood and turned away without another word. His footsteps were lighter than before and you let out a low breath you held longer than you anticipated.
Sukuna's steps paused, a moment passed to say his words aloud to you and your mother. "...I’ll make her happy." Then, he melted into the trees not as the monster your mother heard him to be but the man who he truly was.
Your mother didn't turn, the tension in her shoulders seemed to soften.
Love truly was a curse.
She turned back to you, a motherly gaze, the true matriarch. Your mother approved, although her heart ached heavily.
“You have an odd taste in men, a line of suitors and this is the man you chose?” She pointed out, words jabbing and striking to your chest. Sighing, “Oh well, I can’t argue with you anyways since I’m stuck with your disastrous father.”
“Sukuna is a good man, mama.” You chuckled. Awestruck and your heart thumped as you watched him walk away.
She gave a heavy judgemental look but the soft smile on her face betrayed her. "Good man?" she repeated, shaking her head ruefully. "I thought he was about to tear me apart right there."
You laughed softly. "No, he's just… intense."
She raised an eyebrow, eyes narrowed almost teasingly. "And you like that?"
“I got used to it.”
"Got used to it? You got used to… that man?" She echoed, snorting softly despite herself. Eyes drifting to where Sukuna had vanished. "His cursed energy is beyond what I’ve seen, I’ve treated dozens of sorcerers he had battled and I know he’s dangerous."
A pause.
"But not to you. I felt it in his wild energy, yes… but when he looked at you?" Her voice dropped, almost wistful. "There was only one thing holding that storm together, and that’s you who made him that way. He must truly love you."
“Mama..."
She laughed again—a sound that felt rare, precious. "You're blushing, girl."
"I am not!"
"You are."
"Over a boy. Of all people, a Ryomen too. Have you not learnt anything?"
The teasing glint in her eyes fading to something quiet, knowing. "You love him, don't you?"
You didn't hesitate in answering, "With all my soul."
A momentary silence, worries caught up to your mother.
“I can only hope his father would allow this marriage then…” the older woman mumbled, understanding what could happen to you. “I’m sure Sukuna is strong enough but I still fear for you. You hold a heavy responsibility over him, a heavier power than you think.”
“Mama, I’m sure—“
“My child, this is the Ryomen clan, the warlord leader’s clan is who we are talking about. I may be on good terms with Ryomen-sama but I can only hope he doesn’t care enough that his bastard marries you. I hope he only cares that his bastard acts as his weapon, nothing more.”
A ripple of tension ran through you because it was true, Ryomen Saburou was a force to be reckoned with. A man of power, tradition, and calculated cruelty. A clan that had a history of violence, of blood and ambition with followers who respected, feared and loyal to him.
And you, a simple, ordinary girl.
A drop in a sea of monsters, how can you be a threat to Ryomen Saburou?
Swallowing a knot in your throat, you whispered, "Sukuna won't let anything happen to me. I know he won't and I’m not going to oppose Ryomen-sama’s ambition."
“I know you won’t.” Your mother didn’t want to speak further, she didn’t want her worries to manifest in the air. She could only pray for the best.
“Come on child, it’s time to sleep and your baby brother can’t be left for too long,” she gestured to you to return to the bedroom, as she slept beside the infant.
You followed along with a whirlwind of worries and hopes tangled together. As you nestled by your baby brother, trying to get some rest, your heart felt torn—part praying for a miracle, part bracing for the worst.
Deep down, a small, fierce flame burned with faith.
Sukuna would keep his promise. Of that, you were certain.
He'd find a way, traditions be damned if it meant for you to be his. Whatever the outcome, you would be the fool who loved and will wait for his vow.
Sukuna knelt before his father, head bowed in respect, in the meeting chambers where plots of wars and occupation regimes began, negotiations between political parties, and discussions of alliances through trade and marriages. In the same room Sukuna had spilled blood on the tatami mats, blood of those who betrayed against Ryomen Saburou. Sukuna remembered when his hands twisted muscles and cracked bones of a kin, killing his father’s blood brother in cold blood for conspiring, as his father watched every move without remorse.
"My son," he rumbled, low and cold. The man sitting on the platform, across from him, the shadows of the meeting chamber darkening his face. "You requested a private audience, state your business."
Sukuna took a deep breath, trying to hide the tension coiling in his chest. "I have an important matter to discuss, father."
The man raised an eyebrow, "Go on, then."
Sukuna swallowed, the words sticking like jagged stones in his throat. He'd thought countless times about this moment, about what he’d say. With the man himself before him—the same man who had raised him into a tool—he felt like a child caught in a storm once again.
However, he was no longer the shy boy he once was.
He raised his gaze, meeting his father's with a fierce determination he'd equipped through years of blood, wit and perception.
"I wish to take a wife."
The older man let out a deep exhale, sharp stares onto his son as Sukuna matched him.
The older Ryomen took a pen and ink, grabbed a scroll nearby to write, pleasantly pleased that his son wanted to approach him for marriage, unlike Sukuna's older forcefully married half-brothers. His father’s voice lightened and thundered through the room, “I suppose marriage shall be good for you. You have come of age, you are powerful in sorcery and good political alliances need to be made. You have become my son, it is time you influence a new generation and bear strong children.”
Sukuna's heart beat hard and fast, every word his father spoke feeling like a step closer to a precipice in every brush stroke. “You have come on a pleasant time, there has been a discussion of potential prospects and a clan with flames has been our interest.”
"Father." His voice was steady, a quiet fire burning beneath his words. "I have already chosen a bride."
The room went unnaturally still.
Even the air seemed to hold its breath, the ink gradually dripped one drop.
His father's head snapped up, eyes narrowing and face stiffened. "You what?"
Sukuna met his gaze, unblinking. He knew he was pushing boundaries. He was done living under his own father, playing the role he was expected for his campaign.
"I have chosen a bride," he repeated, every word filled with unwavering resolve.
Sukuna didn’t flinch or blink, loud and clear as he spoke of your name and status for who he seeked to marry.
That name hung in the air—soft, fragile compared to the storm brewing in that room. His father’s face subtly twisted like he’d been struck, his lip lifted to the side and scoffed.
"The healer’s daughter?" A cold pause. He didn’t need to raise his voice, his tongue dripping venomous: "You would shame this clan for a common girl?"
The scroll closed and the pen quietly set on the table, he stood up, towering over him like wrath given form in long silence.
"I’ve allowed you your freedom because you’ve proven useful, and strong for you are my son." His voice cracked through the air as if a jester appeared in his eyes, no laughter came however. "But this? You seek to marry a poor man’s daughter, with no power and status, not even sorcery. For love isn’t it?"
Sukuna rose from the floor, stood tall, his spine stayed straight as steel, unshaken. “I have obliged your command, moulded as your soldier and weapon, advanced the knowledge of curses better than every sorcerer that existed in this age. You are where you stand because I chose to follow your command. And I can choose whether you can stand, father.”
Glares were exchanged between the two. Although Sukuna’s body was bigger, taller, stronger than his own father, the older Ryomen remained the bigger presence in the room.
“You are where you stand in this room because I allowed it, boy.”
He could do it, murder his father and have hundreds of sorcerers come after him. Or Ryomen Saburou could order his men in seconds, hunt after his own son and youl. A low laugh broke the tension, dark and mocking.
"So be it." The older man turned away slowly, cloak swirling behind him like smoke from dying embers. "Prove she is worthy by completing my missions. Win me ten battles and conquest."
A pause. "If you seek to marry her, I shall entertain it with a price.”
The challenge was set but Sukuna only lowered his head slightly more, smiled beneath shadowed eyes. That was nothing at all, it ignited the fire in Sukuna’s chest and roared back to life.
"Ten battles?" His voice was too calm, almost amused. "You're giving me a limit?"
His father turned slightly, one eye catching the dim candlelight.
Sukuna smirked—a flash of fang, a glint of pure danger.
"You should've asked for a hundred."
“In seven days, win ten battles and overtake three villages, all of my choosing and I shall bless your marriage.” The older man's eyes had disdain but he was a man who never backed down from his word. Without another word, he turned and walked toward the door. “You have my word.”
As Ryomen Saburou stepped out into the night, he heard a chuckle.
"I'll bring you their blood on my feet."
The door slid shut behind him with finality.
A cunning man like his father should never be trusted. Sukuna should know better that his father’s motivation was building the strength of the clan and the era of cursed users. He also knew that he was a man that didn’t take back his word. Sukuna had seen it all.
He walked out of the meeting chamber into the cold night air, a quiet fury seething within him.
His father's words echoed through his mind—not a blessing of his choice, but a challenge.
Ten battles. Dominate villages under the name of the Ryomen clan.
And a time limit?
It was a test, a way to weaken him and make him realize the futility of defying the Ryomen clan. However, Sukuna will not back down for he had been built to fulfill his father’s cause.
It was almost a recreation of the night of the wedding you snuck out that night. You, his bride dressed in white, a majestic dove that he laid his eyes on. Him, a man who fulfilled his vow to you.
When Sukuna presented ten cursed talismans at his father’s feet, one for each foe was defeated. Each marked with the sigil of a fallen sorcerer, their energy still faintly pulsing like dying embers. Village leaders came to the Ryomen clan, falling under his occupation and supporting his creed.
As a result, Ryomen Saburou fulfilled his word to his son.
Your father returned with riches too from ventures beyond, no longer holding debts and coughed up your dowry. Impressive enough for Ryomen Saburo to accept the exchange.
Miracles were happening but you and Sukuna had seen the signs that something sinister was looming over.
“I will never leave your side, I will protect you because I am the strongest man there is.” Thumbs caressing your hands, his two hands brushing your locks, easing your worries.
“I just… I can’t believe this is happening, we get to marry. I get to marry my love,” he remembered the way your eyes sparked in glee, how close you were to cry. Foreheads touching, lips that were a breath distance, hearts in content.
The lead up to the marriage was smooth, your mother stood close and was particularly involved. You were bathed, pampered and your mother kept herself alert at all times even when innocent servants were fond of handling you. Sukuna would be close by the next room, cautious as ever, anything could happen at this point.
Yet nothing.
Marriages were sacred, religious temples forbade bloodshed within grounds and to commit such crimes was heinous. His father would never commit such treason, Sukuna knew his father enough that he would never act on violence. Your mother knew that too, in all her years living in the village. As cruel as he was, he had respected sanctions and marriages. That would mean Sukuna had to prepare what would come after the night wedding.
As the priest blessed the wedding, your family members, the village leaders Sukuna had conquered, and important guests were sitting as they observed the communion. Your mother sat behind your father and Ryomen Saburou, examining every detail until she saw a crimson thread around the neck of a girl who sat next to her, the sigil of the talisman worn, hidden behind her kimono. The sigil of the pyromaniac clan, one that she had heard from whispers of the Ryomen clan’s supposed alliances.
Her eyes struck onto the same thread around Saburou’s neck. The warlord and her husband, as if they have caught on, her eyes met with a lion’s den and the prey. Her face twisted in repulsion, your mother stood and harshly smacked your father’s face as she yelled your name out loud, while your father rigidly held her back in pleas.
The world had to stop time for Sukuna because he barely moved in a fraction of a second. In the midst of the burning ceremony, you were engulfed in flames, your baby brother snatched away swiftly as a wind, then your parents burned along with you.
You were too beautiful, too precious in those final moments, your eyes were desperate with hope. The image of you as his bride imprinted in his mind from a moment ago as you laid burning.
He could only think of those gentle touches, your laugh, the way your scent meant fuller stomachs and fuller hearts after a long summer day. A person he fondly smiles at because he knew what true joy was.
His mind went blank.
Something in his chest twisted like knotted steel. His body reacted immediately as his hands reached out, grabbing you, wrenching you from the flames; to hold you, keeping you safe even in the dying body. Uncaring how the sorcerer’s fire scorched him too as he became numb to it all.
Screeches of guests as they ran while Ryomen Saburou sat still and watched under another sorcerer’s barrier, as the temple combusted into flames. As Sukuna was frozen, rooted to the ground, watching the girl he loved burn to nothing right in front of him.
He couldn't move.
He couldn't breathe.
Something in him snapped.
All while his blood boiled him.
He should have known better that his father would keep his tainted hands clean. The same man who conquered and created warfare with ink and words, commemorated his principles but by allowing others to move in his own place. Starting from the moment Sukuna had rejected his own marriage arrangement, Ryomen Saburou plotted for his son’s utter defeat and bare survival.
Like father like son, the warlord underestimated his son too.
Cursed energy bled immensely, the raging blaze that blinded Sukuna transported his surroundings, all beings within the perimeters of the temple were trapped. This was an undocumented ability. Domains were mainly rumours but what was displayed to the sorcerers eclipsed their expectations that their hearts sunk down to their core and their bodies paralysed. A shrine formed from flesh and large malformed mouths with teeth, Sukuna stood in its middle while he held onto you. Instinctively, his two fingers pressed against the other and infinite slashes were projecting, cutting through muscles and bone. Each body that fell became skulls that built the foundation of the shrine, horns burst out of the ground, blood painted in its courtyard. A reincarnation of hell exhibited in front of Ryomen Saburou, he had understood what true horror and divine punishment was. Out of all this, the only opponent that barely survived was the older Ryomen, that was intentional.
His father wanted a new golden era of power with sorcerers. So be it, Sukuna will show his father what his cause meant.
In that moment, under the burning gaze of Sukuna's eyes, Ryomen Saburou realized two things with perfect clarity.
That beneath all the strength and ruthlessness, beneath the bloodthirst and ambition; his son was in love, the Cursed One was in love. Witnessing that love shattered, the world quaked as trees shook, storms of leaves tearing free. The ground groaned, the very earth itself was afraid as Sukuna moved.
Sukuna didn’t speak or roar, he moved as every step forward was a promise to wreak suffering. You, who bind his humanity and innocence, and recognised for everything he was, including all that was good and evil. Gone.
No one to hold him, no one who felt him. All that had been good had left him and the fate of his creation, what was intended in the very beginning of his birth and how the world crafted him to be.
A storm rose around him, the air split with the sound of snapping bone, returning to the wrecked temple and bodies on the ground like broken dolls. Sukuna, skin charred and flesh burnt but breathing,
The burning wooden compound cracked, Sukuna strode on toward his father.
Every step was slow.
Every step was deliberate.
Every step was inevitable.
The warlord’s feet were heavy and bloodstained, an arm left to push his battered body backward while one leg was missing and the other had been snapped. Sukuna burned even brighter through the pain with the fire of his rage as he pushed on through the wreckage.
There was only one thing that mattered now.
“Is this what you visioned father? Have I fulfilled your life mission for the new era?”
Red eyes glared onto his father, the warlord attempted to beg for mercy in coughs of blood clot.
He felt you—his love, his lifeless wife.
"I understand what I was born to be, I shall fulfill this destiny and I will be the face for all curses. I will live with what I desire, I will live to curse." His voice was dull, raw with the weight of a grief and pain that had burned long enough to infect his soul.
He stepped forward, each footstep thundering across the stones.
“Your name shall never be passed on for I will share no heirs nor bastards to continue your bloodline.” Sukuna proclaimed to the winds, the forests, and the remaining Gods of the temple. "The Ryomen clan ends here, there could only be one Ryomen standing in this generation."
A silence heavier than death fell over the ruins.
Sukuna stood amidst the wreckage of the sacred temple and bloodbath. A seeping inferno crept on the limbs of his father, blood drooled and the heinous warlord whimpered incoherent words as it grew into shrieks. Sukuna watched until his father’s screams were long gone, his body broken, soon his legacy reduced to ash and memory.
"No descendants, no songs sung in my father’s name. They will only know mine," he whispered into the wind, voice hollow but final. This vile Ryomen blood tainted with violence, pride, and ruin would be contained in him to either infect or die with him.
In his arms, still cradled close like a prayer, he held you. Blackened, silent, gone, he refused to let go. Refused to believe that love that was fierce and undefying could be erased by fire and cruelty.
He looked down at your face one last time. Beneath the char was the girl who had smiled at shadows, who had chosen him when the world told you not to and something inside him shattered completely. "I will bear no heirs because I cannot."
"If you were here," His thumb brushed over what remained of your hand. "We would’ve had our own children who existed because of love."
The wind howled through the remnants and ashes of the sacred ground—one last echo of what was holy communion that became an unwarranted tragic burial.
As dawn broke over, Ryomen Sukuna walked away as a man carrying love too great for this world, and grief too heavy for any soul to survive unbroken. He never looked back, letting his feet lead him to where he should return for a final time.
It was a clear morning, the water still and calm as if the creek was holding its breath. He walked along the riverside, memories rewinded back to the day he first met you at the river. The way you’d reached out and heard his heart under the tree, not knowing who he was, not knowing what he would become.
There was only one thing left he could do.
He laid your body underneath the weeping willow, on a bed of flowers and plants he remembered too well—the very spot where they’d once whispered promises, shared stolen glances, and dreamed of a future now turned to ash.
The final act to perform the proper burning ceremony; not for the wedding, for the funeral of the newlywedded wife.
He arranged you carefully on a wooden pile; placing wildflowers you picked before your hands, surrounding you with the sweet berries you both picked when you were young, and herbs that he recalled memorising.
His fingers trembled. Ryomen Sukuna did not cry for anyone but he broke into pieces while he arranged every foraged memory onto your body. A single tear cut through the soot on his deformed cheek as he lit the pyre with steady hands and a heart that had stopped beating long before.
The fire rose softly, warm and golden like the sunrises they’d watched together.
As the smoke curled into the sky, carrying what remained of his love, nature read the unspoken words of what once was a man:
“Maybe in another life, I’ll see you again. In another world, if this world wasn’t cruel and when the Gods will bless us.”
He stayed until the last char died.
He stood and walked into the wind, a ghost clad in blood and sorrow, finally free from love and humanity you had restrained him in, but completely alone to survive.
From the ashes of the temple, a myth was born. The world would not remember Sukuna Ryomen as the son of an evil warlord but as the King of Curses—a title carved in blood and grief, whispered in fear by sorcerers and cursed alike.
Where once there was love beneath cherry blossoms, there were ruins beneath silent skies onwards. The world trembled at his name.
No longer bound by bloodline or duty, Sukuna became a legend. He ruled not from a throne, but from the shadows between curses. In the fire he saw the joy in the end of his humanity for destruction was his pleasure that filled his endless lust.
He forged a new era, one where strength was law, chaos cultivated and sentiment had almost no place.
Only, there would be a brief occurrence when the wind carried petals to the riverbank, the King of Curses would vanish. One fleeting moment that he wasn’t feared, furious or immune to violence.
A window of time where he was simply once a man, kneeling beneath a tree, whispering to ghosts. You may hear the faint echo of two voices laughing; one sharp and mocking, the other soft and warm, forever meeting again in dreams the King never wakes up from.
a/n: finally the last chapter to this series! this took a long time to make because i was figuring out what direction i should take. honestly, i’m proud of how this turned out. it feels so great to finally write fanfics. life is worth livinggggg
The Time Capsule
Chapter 1: War-Time Lovers
pairing: bucky barnes x female 1940’s bombshell! reader
°
summary: bucky left his heart in 1945 with you, the only girl he ever really loved. a letter you left has him believing you’re dead, but the reality?
you were captured by hydra and made into a super soldier that never went to war—kept frozen for a future era of terror. years after hydra fell, valentina discovered you in her research to creating a new superhero.
in a last ditch effort, valentina’s team of scientists used your blood to make a new serum on bob, their latest subject. but, when it seemed that bob didn’t withstand the experiment, she left you and him in the vault to burn with the rest of the evidence.
you woke up disoriented in a completely different world, saved by a team of antiheroes with no idea that the love of your life was still alive.
°
genre: fluff, angst (implied smut) 18+ mdni
word count: 8,542
highlights: jealous! bucky, howard stark having the fattest crush on reader, peggy and reader girl friendship :)
AUTHOR'S NOTE: this can be a stand alone but I am not normal and wrote so much that this ended up being a Bucky series (look forward to the other parts!)
…this is the first ever Bucky fic I’ve made! I know I mainly write for avatar (new chapters coming!) but I really had to make this fic cause I got a surge of an idea.
so sorry for any typos as well! I was just writing and writing and got so excited
Circa. 1943
You had escaped your stuffy life in the upper east side of Manhattan to join the efforts against Germany and actually go make a difference in the world.
But the only way that you could find a way to fight was to become one of Captain America's backup dancers during his morale shows. You had performed in a couple of those shows before you snuck away when no one was looking, disguising yourself in uniform and posing as a soldier for as long as you could.
Princess
Summary : You fall for Bucky Barnes, the Avenger assigned as your bodyguard. When a photo of the two of you kissing leaks to the tabloids, your clients start questioning your company’s integrity.
Pairing : Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x CEO!reader
Warnings/tags : implied sex, cursing, mutual pining, canon-typical violence, you have a dad in this one, post FATWS and pre CABNW, forced proximity-ish, slice of life fic taking place over 15-ish months.
Word Count : 16.2k oops
Notes : Hi!!! I just got home from a holiday and I’m still super jetlagged when I realised my queued posts aren't posting! I will post one fic a day until the schedule catches itself up. Will take the next couple of days to reply to all your comments, so please bear with me! Enjoy!
Day 1.
Bucky grumbled the entire ride to your penthouse, arms crossed like a sulking teenager.
“I’m a super soldier, not a glorified babysitter,” he muttered to Sam as the Quinjet cut smoothly through the air. “I’ve fought aliens. Now I’m stuck protecting some spoiled heiress who probably throws tantrums if her latte isn’t the right milk-to-coffee ratio.”
Sam barely spared him a look, busy in whatever he was reading on his tablet. Bucky glanced over his shoulder— Sam was reading your profile.
Grumpy & the New Girl: Part 14
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Masterlist
Bucky x reader
Summary: She wasn’t supposed to meet him like that. He wasn’t supposed to let her in. But sometimes, things don’t go according to plan.
Word Count: 7,051
When you woke up to Bucky’s alarm again the next morning, you were exhausted. Bucky just reached over and turned it off, arm immediately coming back to it’s place around you.
“Mmm no,” you groaned, pushing your face deeper into his chest.
“What baby?” he murmured.
Meet Me Halfway
Summary : Bucky has to recruit the love of his life to save New York from the void. He doesn't know if she wants to ever see him again, though.
Pairing : Bucky Barnes x reader (she/her)
Warnings/tags : Thunderbolts* spoilers below the cut!!!!!!! Exes to friends to lovers. Fluff, angst, reader is a tracker with enhanced senses. Cursing, Trauma. Implied sex. Alcohol consumption. Death(Please let me know if I miss anything!!!)
Requested by : anon
Word count : 15k whoops
Note : This story touches on the events of Civil War, IW, Endgame, FATWS, BP Wakanda Forever, and Thunderbolts*! I used google translate for the Xhosa, so please let me know if it needs to be corrected. If you’d like to be on the taglist, message me! It gets lost in the comments sometimes. Enjoy!
You were a tracker.
Your body was a weapon, biologically improved by enhanced senses. You could smell a carcass from ten miles away. You could hear a pin drop on the other side of town. Your eyes could track body heat through a crowd of thousands— and it meant you were a hunter in a world full of invisible prey. Some people hunted with tools. You were the tool.
Super Soldier Domesticated | Bucky Barnes x reader
Summary: Domestic scenes with Bucky Barnes, because Bucky Barnes deserves to be HAPPY.
A/N: I have returned to pray at the altar of James Buchanan Barnes. Thunderbolts dropped and flooded my insta feed. Oh, how past me would have rejoiced in all of this Bucky content.
Word count: 3.1k
Warnings: fluff, implications of smut, language, possible misinformation about various contraceptive devices (please inform yourselves lol)
-
Bucky Barnes was the fist of Hydra.
He’d spent decades being shaped into the perfect asset—ruthless, detached, the ultimate killing machine. He was cruel. He was dangerous. He was violent.
He’d been tortured. He’d been torn apart and stitched back together, and only when barely an inkling of the man he used to be remained, they’d set him loose on the world.
It was almost funny, Bucky thought now as he looked down at his working hands. To think what this arm—this near indestructible artificial limb—had been created for. It had squeezed the life from many a target, had pulled the triggers of guns and survived explosions. It had brought unspeakable pain upon his victims.
And yet …
“Not too tight, Bucky.”
lessons in lovemaking [part four]
marvel au bucky x blackwidow!reader
You and Bucky Barnes go undercover as a married couple, but when a fake kiss gets too real, he unexpectedly finishes in his pants—leaving you both stunned.
Tags: 18+ content minors dni, nudity, female masturbation, fem reader, panic attacks, bucky is touch starved, mentions of previous sa, ex black widow reader, very consensual, safe words, safe word/motion use, bucky barnes needs a hug, angst, bickering, major arguments, sparring, training, mentions of alcohol, reader is lowkey depressed, trauma, mentions of past violence and death, no use of y/n, lmk if i've missed anything
Word Count: 10k
A/N: it's ready early! thank you everyone for the support. um i'll keep it brief but this is a pretty rough, angsty one. please trust and bear with me. it will get better. thank you for putting up with my silly ideas. also a big thank you to @soelstress and @buckybarnesfic for reading this over for me and giving feedback while i was pulling my hair out a bit! as always, sorry for any typos!
main masterlist | series masterlist
In the split second it took for you to twist around, an arm half-heartedly lifting to cover your chest, Steve’s complexion had lurched from deathly white to a deep, mortified crimson. One hand clamped desperately over his eyes, as if that could undo what he'd already seen. His mouth opened and closed wordlessly, floundering for something to say, before he choked out a strangled “Sorry!” and spun around so violently he almost took the doorframe with him.
Shitty Choso fic idea feel free to use 😂😂
Choso x f!Reader
Cursed
During Shibuya the Reader and Choso bonded through out events that took place….( everyone is alive 🥲) and after that the Reader helps Choso adapt to his new reality of living among the humans…and a few years into that “normal human” life with Choso she finds out she’s pregnant…
She decides to makes a surprise party to reveal to him the news with all their friends but it didn’t go as planned and Choso has a mix reaction with feeling that he himself couldn’t comprehend…. And single tear slides down his face both of happiness and fear cuz he never thought that was a possibility ….
With a crippling fear that ran through him at the thought of Reader going through what his mother went… him kinda spiraling thinking he was no better then his father…. And starts apologizing because of what might happen to the Reader because the child will have his poisons blood and the fear of what others would think or react if the child doesn’t look human…. But Reader reassure him that everything will be all right and that the child will be loved and maybe they have twin boys in the end…. And maybe one of them have Eso eyes and the other Choso stripe or any other characteristic of his siblings…
(English isn’t my first language so I’m sorry for any mistakes 😊 feel free to change whatever you want)
JJK
GOJO SATORU
Blindfold
SUGURO GETO
Duo
CHOSO
Cursed
TOJI FUSHIGURO
Summoned
SUKUNA
After 1000 years
OP
EUSTASS KID
Mixed Love
DOFLAMINGO
Ripped Hearts : done by sanjipopatoes
RIPPED HEARTS
A/N: this idea and concept is @moonnime's :D
also this consists a somewhat love triangle, implied sex,mentions of pregnancy, mentions of murderand mentions of abandonment and it doesn't have such a happy ending so if you don't like any of these just like skip this
pink = doffy
red = rosinante/corazon
blue = law
purple = reader
you were 8 years old when you met the Donquixote brothers.your father was a friend to their father and since you were mainly lonely at home your father took you with him to visit the Donquixote so you can play with the two boys and well you guys did get along but doflamingo loved you the most whenever you played hide and seek he would jump and hug you whenever and wherever he found you but an issue he had was that rosinante was always "in his way" and out of jealousy he did anything to try to impress and take your attention example you would be playing dolls with rosinante and doflamingo would catch your attention by doing something like "hey *reader* look what I can do!! :D" he attempted to do a cartwheel but since he was 8 and lacked balance his short little arms failed him and he fell on his face miserably you then got worried but he insisted he was okay and yet you still clapped and was impressed by him not because the cartwheel was good but because he had confidence and you liked that shortly after rosinante being the simple minded 6 year
old he wanted to try doing a cartwheel you thought it was a bad idea but Doffy let him do it to see him fall and assume that he will see your laughter "okay here we :)" rosinante says before attempting to cartwheel but instead falls down on the hard floor face first and when he sat up he started crying and you see his nose bleeding as doflamingo laughed "Doffy how could you laugh like that he's really hurt!!" you say upset at his rude gesture as you run to help rosinante .a little while after his mother treated his nose and gave him a bandage he came to you with a hibiscus flower he found "look *reader* I found this flower and im gonna give it to you because I love you :D" you accepted the flower and blushed "aww I love you too rosi!!"you said while doflamingo just watched in a huff
17 years have passed and you were 25 you had grown up old with the brothers and you married rosinante and you both would think Doffy would be happy for his brother and move on but no he was jealous he always found a way to try to separate you two and third wheel things you did together like example you would be on a bench sitting with rosinante and doflamingo would just randomly comes and shove rosinante to scoot to sit between you two and put an arm around you and talked while ignoring rosinante. a little while after you met law you treated him such like a son and rosinante noticed and asked if you wanted to have kids together "hey since you are good with kids I was wondering...would you like maybe..try having one of our own don't get me wrong I love law and all but maybe you would be happier with a child of our own" he said to you with a awkward smile and that day you left law with some snacks and toys to play with while you and rosinante went to a room somewhere and told law that if he needed anything just knock on the door five times.outside that room as hes playing with the stuffed polar bear and panda making them fight he hears noises coming from that room and he wondered
what was happening but decided to stay curious(even after years he still doesn't know what the hell happened in that room).then came another three years you were now 28 rosinante and law disappeared they said something about doflamingo but you didn't pay attention and after you realized they left you felt bad for not paying attention but you had hope they would come back so you could apologize and after months of waiting you go outside and in a distant you see a silhouette of a man with a large coat you stand up and assume its rosinante but the closer it got you saw it was doflamingo "Doffy oh whats a surprise :D umm what are you doing here exactly? I thought you would be with roro do you perhaps know where he is at" he opens his mouth "well he's.." he pauses then thinks about what he says next "he left." your eyes shot wide open in shock "what do you mean he left.." doflamingo looks down looking "upset" "he sended me over here to tell you that..he lost interest in you he found someone else and figured that they would make law happier than you would so he left" you froze and looked down as you cried you ran to doflamigo and snuggled in his coat for comfort as you cried your eyes out and while you couldn't see doflamingo couldn't help but grin,he finally won after 18 years of losing he won in the very end
during the years of your heart break doflamingo managed to grab the pieces all together and fix it he took care of you and did nothing but loving things to you so obviously eventually you falled for him and you then start reflecting on the past on how you felt bad for 18 years on how much you underestimated doflamingo I mean he did love you more than rosinante did and you then start believing that it was all a con rosinante never loved you at all and it was always doflamingo he truly was the one that loved you
after 20 years you are now 38 you married doflamingo and Became his queen to lead Dressrosa and the citizen were shocked to find out that YOU were his queen they expected you to be the Harley Quinn to his joker but..you were kind, you cared about your citizens and there was no mischief in you unlike doflamingo which you had no idea about his behavior because well he would play nice whenever you were around so whenever you were art with doflamingo you would always sensed fear in the citizen and always wondered why.after two months you started to feel nauseous and super sick and doflamingo in a panic called the best doctor there could be In Dressrosa to see whats wrong and cure me as fast as possible no matter the consequence and after a few test from the doctor he told you and doflamingo that you were with child and this got you happy
you always dreamed of having a child especially with the one you love but..something felt off despite you feeling excited having a child there was something empty but you decided to brush it off in 4 months you were now 6 months pregnant you grew a belly and doflamingo became more protective of you since he certainly didn't want anything happening to the future leader of Dressrosa and one day when finally agrees to let you out on your own a certain little pirate with a straw hat comes to Dressrosa along with a familiar person which you were in a bench just killing time till you felt a tap on your shoulder you look up and see a man with tattooed hands,earings
and a spotted hat and your eyes widened before he spoke "hello miss *reader*" you rub your eyes in shock thinking your hallucinating "I-i who are you and how do you know me" the man looked a bit sad and then says "miss *reader* its me law I know you don't recognize me from the tats and how much Ive grown but I obviously could recognize you you still look the same as ever even after 10 years I guess the saying "real queens never age" is true after all" you give him a gentle hug which makes him notice your belly "hey your pregnant now,who did you remarry?"he said out of curiosity as you giggled "only the nicest man I've ever known...doffy!! :D" you say out of joy as trafalgars eyes widen out of shock and he backs up and
looks real upset "WHAT!! THAT MONSTER!!"when he said that you got completely offend before he continued "YOU HAD THE AUDACITY TO MARRIED AND EVEN OPEN YOUR LEGS TO THAT COLD BLACK HEARTED-" you slapped law across the face and he holds it out of pain as you yelled "OH AND WOULDN'T YOU KNOW ABOUT MONSTERS AS YOU WERE RAISED BY ONE!" law looked confused "I don't know what you mean *reader*.." you yelled back "DON'T PLAY DUMB OR INNOCENT YOU KNOW HOW YOUR PRECIOUS "CORA-SAN" TOOK YOU AND LEFT ME BEHIND FOR ANOTHER WOMAN SINCE HE WAS TOO MUCH OF A COWARD TO SIMPLY TELL ME HE FELL OUT OF LOVE AND JUST THOUGHT ABANDONING ME WOULD BE THE SOLUTION" Law now understanding your point of view of things
"no miss *reader* your wrong its all wrong he didn't leave he died! your precious beloved husband killed him" you got taken a back and shook your head "no...thats not true" trafalgar looked at you "he died freeing me...so he didn't leave you he loved you so much after we left he would go none stop talking about how much he misses you so who even told you about that lie and how could you ever believe it" you looked down "it was..doffy I believed him because I figured since hes his brother he knew him better than I ever did..." you say ashamed as law nods in understand "well another thing about doflamingo was that his mindset about you is that if he can't have you then nobody else can until he gets you so he lied to you ever since"
you start sniffling and crying as law looks down on you "its not too late you know.." you shake your head "no...it is too late...I can't have my child without their father even if he is doflamingo" law just blinked before you said "I'll try my best to help you with whatever your doing but im sorry I cannot leave him either I hope you understand" law just opens his mouth about to protest but he held it back understanding your situation and walks away as you now know the truth and how you made a decision and now suffering consequence..so your trapped now having to raise a child with doflamingo
alternate ending:you end up committing suicide 1 week after giving birth to the baby you were planning on doing it months before but you figured that if your going down the hole you shouldn't drag the child along with you so you just left the child for doflamingo to raise on his own selfish yes but you didn't know what else to do surely you couldn't give it to law since you didn't wanna put an extra weight of responsibility on his shoulders so that was your only option and as your suicide note just tells doflamingo on how you now know the truth and describing how much you despise him now for taking your TRUE soulmate away from the world and from you and before you shot yourself your last words were "see you soon rosi." and then bang
doflamingo's,the Donquixote Pirates and Dressrosa citizens reaction to when you agreed to be his lover after 18 god forsaken years for him:
once again credit for idea is @moonnime
Gojo Satoru x reader fic Idea feel free to use 😂😂
Young adult Gojo puts the blindfold for the first time:
Where Gojo has migraine for the first time and doesn’t know how to deal with it… tried all sort of stuff to help relieve the pain but nothing so reader hears him moaning and complaining that his headache doesn’t go way (they could be already in an established relationship or not) so she decides to check on him… and when she sees him curled in the bed she has an idea to blindfold him because the darkness and the pressure of it might help and she also suggests for him to try an orgasm to help distract his brain and the pain….so the reader offers to help in the most pleasurable way just to help him relieve his pain 😂or in other words she worships every single part of his body 😂
(Sorry for any mistakes English isn’t my first language 🫰🏻)
IT'S A NEED - CHOSO KAMO
✴︎ summary: after you take an attack meant for him, choso can't seem to understand why -- so you show him just how important he is to you. ✴︎ contents: 18+ only, angst then smut, choso is confused about human emotions, he doesn't know if he deserves love, making out, groping, sex (p in v), handjob (f! + m! receiving), semi-public sex (sort of), pet names (love, pretty, lovely) ✴︎ wc: 1,965
“Why did you take that hit for me?” his words come out in a hiss, a rush of breath that he forces out between gritted teeth, as if he was both afraid to ask and afraid not to, “it was foolish, it was unnecessary—”
You blow out a sigh between your pursed lips, as you rest against a damp sheet against cold concrete of a corner of Shibuya that currently wasn’t under attack — the not too distant groans of other injured not too far, but far enough for your privacy, “You know why I did it, so why are you asking that, when you mean to ask something else?”
And you knew him — knew him a little too well for someone who only had known him a few weeks now? Is that how long it had been since he had joined up with sorcerers? Switched sides to protect his little brother — and somehow, he ended up here — sitting next to you instead of him. Yuji could handle himself — he had faith in his brother — and he knew you could too. A skilled sorcerer — he saw your skill firsthand from a distance during the fights in shibuya, and then up close when you nearly caved his head in when you found out how he almost killed Yuji.
Fic Idea 😂 feel free to use
Toji Fushiguro x Mamagumi!reader :
In which Toji and the reader are summoned but both regain control over their bodies….. right before about Toji decides to end his life (he doesn’t encounter Megumi yet) he sees the reader and everything stop because the last time he saw her she was found death (maybe a year or so after her giving birth to Megumi) no one knew if it was an accident or murder but Toji never was the same after that….. when he comes back to himself he notices that she’s crying and about to also end her life but he stops her….. and idk maybe after that they have a really wholesome and emotional reunion but unfortunately it will come to an end or not 😂😂 and maybe they even reencounter Megumi or not 😂😂
(I don’t this shitty idea came to me right after the new jjk episode 😂😂)
(English isn’t my first language so I’m sorry for any mistakes 😊 feel free to change whatever you want)
Random shitty fic idea feel free to use
Sukuna x f!Reader
A scenario in which the reader is a sorcerer in The Heian Era and she knew Sukuna while he was still human ( before he became a curse) she was always present in his life but mostly in the shadows passing unnoticed by other but incredibly strong…
They developed a strong bond but not like they were in love but loved each other (does that makes sense?? but she strongly disliked Yorozu 😂) but eventually started engaging in a physical relationship…..and in one of those intimate and sensual encounters they performed a ritual where Reader painted the marks on Sukuna skin with both their blood mixed and later those marks stayed permanently on his skin and became a reminder of their relationship and a bittersweet memory of her because shortly after she vanished….
After 1000 years he sees her again through the eyes of his vessel….
[Maybe her curse technique allows her to suck others energy to remain young and powerful some sort of reverse cursed technique idk 😂]
(English isn’t my first language so I’m sorry for any mistakes 😊 I really hope someone likes this and decides to write it 😊 feel free to change whatever you want)
NSFW under the cut 😏😂
Fic idea for Eustass Kid x StrawHat f!Reader Feel free to use
In which the reader is in love with Eustass Kid and always makes excuses to be near him every time they team up or are in the same island and she always manages break his guard and steal him a kiss (or something like that) Even though he is very wary of her and doesn’t understand her persistence to be near him….he probably thinks she’s just trying to rail him up or making fun of him which makes him angry and confused and Killer find it very amusing… but in the end they are caught having full steamy passionate making out session and Kid makes sure that she wears some type of metal from that moment forward..and him saying he is going to steal her and taker her with him plus Luffy reaction to someone threatening to steal one of his nakama 😂….and the Straw hats reaction to her shenanigans and them trying to find out what she sees in him
(English isn’t my first language so I’m sorry for any mistakes)
(I really hope someone likes this and decides to write it 😊 feel free to change whatever you want)