Delusion

Satisfied with your reflection in the mirror, you step into your lavish walk-in closet. A lacey nightgown that matches your mask is slipped on, the hem of the dress shyly caresses your knees. Your hand traces the many drawers lining the walls of your in your walk-in closet until they stop at the one that houses your jewelry. You decorate yourself with a pair of diamond earrings, a matching necklace, and bracelet, making you shine like the stars in the night sky.

You watch your reflection as you sway left and right, pleased by how flowy your dress is. After a few minor adjustments, you exit your bedroom to languidly make your way to the master bedroom, the soft tune you’re muttering under your breath haunts the exquisite corridors.

The mansion is dark with only the moon as your source of light. Yet it holds a certain beauty that has you stopping to take in your surroundings, marveling at the rare and exotic artwork decorating the walls.

At the end of the corridor on the third floor of the mansion is a set of doors made from cherry wood. There are intricate golden patterns on them that rival the shine of your jewelry . To anyone, they look intimidating. But to you, they are inviting.

Exhaling deeply to calm yourself down, you knocked on the door three times.

“Come in.” A deep voice vibrates.

Dusting off your nightgown, you slowly push the doors open and step inside the candle lit room.

In the center of the room is a large round table with a glass vase. In it, as an arrangement of white orchids, peonies in a rich shade of maroon, and a purple haze calla flower. If one were to look up, they’d find a magnificent crystal chandelier.

Your footsteps are light, almost quiet, as you venture deeper into the master bedroom.

A figure stands by the balcony doors. He is dressed in a white suit with sophisticated silver embroidery. The mask he is wearing complements the suit he is wearing. His eyes, which are usually a muted color, appear brighter due to the silver beading scattered on his mask.

The man turns. He holds a hand out for you, a soft and inviting smile resting on his rosy lips.

His skin is ice cold. Your hand rapidly cools at the sudden shift in temperature.

Sylus gently pulls you towards him as he wraps his arms around your waist.

“You look enchanting, Mi Amor.” He purrs while nuzzling your ear. A soft chuckle falls from his lips when he notices how you lean into his touch, relishing the sensation.

“Are you ready?” He asks.

Too nervous to speak, you simply nod your head.

He smiles at you, exposing his pearly white teeth…and his fangs.

You are entranced by the sharpness of his teeth, as if they are seducing you.

Sylus hums in amusement. Then, ever so slowly, he leans his head down and inches his lips to your inviting neck.

Your body tenses, anticipating the bite. But it never comes. Instead, Sylus kisses your smooth skin.

He then nuzzles the curve of your jaw, right at your pulse point, “You smell delicious.”

“Beautiful.” He whispers as he kisses your neck again.

You exhale shakily, your legs almost giving out if not for Sylus’ strong hold on you, “So alluring." he mutters as he inhales your scent.

Without a warning, your breath catches your throat, mouth opened wide in a silent scream.

Sylus sinks his fangs into your skin. Your hand finds its way in his silver hair, gripping it tightly. Your other hand desperately grabs onto the back of his suit as Sylus continues to drink your blood.

Your eyes roll upwards as Sylus’ loud and sloppy slurps echo throughout the master bedroom. A dull sciatic ache settles into your neck. Seconds, minutes, or hours, you aren’t sure, but moments later, the pain dims like a candle’s dying fire.

Your grip on Sylus weakens.

Your breathing is shallow.

Your eyes flutter shut as you lay limply in Sylus’ arms.

A cool touch, gentle taps on your cheek, rouses you from your unconsciousness. Still unresponsive, Sylus squeezes your cheeks until your mouth sluggishly falls open.

“Drink up.” Sylus whispers but his command is firm.

A bitter metallic liquid slides down your throat. Within seconds, your mouth latches onto Sylus’ wrist, drinking his blood.

Toji

A mercenary knight who is hired by a duke that Toji doesn’t bother to memorize his name to slay a wyvern that has been terrorizing the duchy.

The wyvern was a nasty bugger that ate any traveling merchants from neighboring duchies and kingdoms. Luckily, it didn’t breathe fire so Toji didn’t have any difficulties fighting it.

Towards the end of the battle, just when Toji can almost feel the bag of gold coins resting comfortably on his scarred palm, the wyvern’s sharp claws cut across him.

He doesn’t remember how but when Toji comes to, he’s in a dimly lit shed. A pungent stench of manure burned his nostrils. Chickens shrieking in the distance invade his ears, making Toji block off the sound by covering his ears with his hands. But the sudden movement has him wincing in pain. Glancing down, Toji is met with the sight of red staining his bandages.

“You opened your wound.”

Toji glances away from his injury to where a soft feminine voice came from. 

She’s a woman who is barely half his age. On her hip rests a wooden bowl filled with water, a once white towel thrown across the rim. 

Toji reaches for his sword, the one he’s had since he was a boy of ten and one, but curses when he can’t find it.

“Stop moving.” The maiden chastises as she hurries to sit by Toji’s cot to redress his wounds. “If you’re looking for your sword,” She says while reaching out to Toji who recoils from her touch, “it’s over there.”

Toji follows where the young maiden is pointing. Like she said, his sword is leaning against the wooden wall. 

“Now, will you let me treat you or are you going to bleed to death?”

Glancing between the woman and his cut, Toji grunts and allows his rescuer to see to his injury. 

As she unwraps his soiled bandages, Toji observes the woman.

Kind eyes that have never witnessed the horrors of war but have been exposed to enough bloodshed that she doesn’t squeamish from the sight of it.

Gentle hands that work swiftly, so light her touch that Toji doesn’t feel her hands. 

He doesn’t fall for her immediately. However, Toji does find himself returning to her farm after a successful battle. 

No matter the days, weeks, or months have gone by, the fair maiden who brought Toji back to life is always there to welcome him with a love stricken smile.

Kento

A foreign merchant who charms women without his knowledge. 

Stoic features, calculative eyes, and hair spun from gold, such rare features to be seen in Y/N’s kingdom. It’s a small wonder that he is the talk of the common folk and the nobles alike. 

He is invited to the summer solstice masquerade ball. The merchant introduces himself as Nanami Kento, a traveling merchant from the eastern kingdom with western ancestry in his blood. 

Kento wears a stunning white base mask that covers half of his face, accentuating his chiseled jawline. Elegant swirls are drawn with real gold liquid, something not even the richest of nobles have.

He is the dream of every woman and the envy of every man; tall, strong, charming, modest, and quite handsome. 

Despite many women seducing him with their teasing and lustful glances for a dance, Kento ignores them. 

It’s only when he accidentally meets your gaze that Kento pulls himself away from the stifling conversation on taxes to make his way to you.

“I don’t believe we have been introduced.” Kento’s voice is deep and rich, sending a tantalizing shiver down your spine. 

Biting your lip, you hold your hand out, “Y/N.” 

Kento’s lips kissing your knuckles shouldn’t leave you breathless, many bachelors have kissed your hand, a common and courteous practice, yet something is different about this traveling merchant, something addictive, making you want for more.

The quartet plays a new song.

“Care for a dance?”

Not looking away from Kento’s eyes— a shade of green that reminds you of summer grass— You nod your head and follow him to the centre of the ballroom. 

You’ve always dreamed of a fairytale like love story but you must admit that you didn’t believe it’s something that could happen to you.

When Kento arrives at your home late one morning, a diamond ring in one hand, to ask your father for your hand, your heart leaps with joy.

You are married within a month. Soon, your world is filled with travel to foreign lands. Witness creatures you’ve only seen drawn in books, the illustrations doing them no justice. Tasting food you’ve never heard of but grow to love. 

Life with Kento is a dream come true and it ends with old age, surrounded by your six children and their own children, in a house filled with memories and souvenirs from around the world.

Sukuna

Ryeomen Sukuna, an infamous bandit who, one day, blocks a carriage of a famous noble house that is delivering their only daughter to a neighboring kingdom to marry her off to a rich merchant. 

Sukuna has no interest in a spoiled lady but when he lays eyes on you, he knows he must have you.

So, Sukuna steals you, along with your riches. 

You’re pouting, arms crossed, nose held high, refusing to engage in Sukuna’s attempt at a conversation.

When night falls, Sukuna stops near a river to rest. Still, you do not acknowledge his presence but who is Sukuna but a patient man?

Though he is a brute of a man, Sukuna treats you tenderly, like some jewel he doesn’t want to break. 

He catches a rabbit for you to eat and doesn’t get upset when you turn away from him.

“You’re going to starve at this point.” Sukuna says through a mouthful of his own meal. 

When you continue to remain silent, Sukuna shrugs, “Suit yourself. 

It’s in the late hours of the night, where the campfire has been put out and Sukuna’s breathing is calm that you decide to escape, return to your father and never leave your home. 

The only problem is that you’ve never been in a forest before, let alone travel on foot. It’s challenging maneuvering your way through thick branches, jumping at any sound and constantly glancing over your shoulder for your capture. 

Lady Luck is on your side, however, as you soon find yourself on the main road. 

A faint glow of a torch can be seen flickering in the distance. Relieved, you follow the end of the trail.

“Pardon me!” You yell when you’re near, glad to see two men riding on their horse.

One of the men halts, yanking his horse to turn slightly to the side. 

“Please, my name is Y/N, daughter of Lord S/N and I have been stolen. Guide me home and my father shall reward you handsomely.”

The two men share a look, one you mistook as of one kindness. 

One of the men jumps from his horse, landing in front of you. Stumbling backwards, you warily eye the man but still maintain a polite smile.

“Never been around a lady before.” His eyes roam around your body.

A knot of discomfort settles in the pit of your stomach, “Oh, my apologies. Perhaps I should seek help elsewhere.”

Before you could leave, the man grabs your wrist. “Where are you going? The night’s still young.”

The second man circles around you and stands behind you. “We’ll take you home to your daddy, untouched…mostly.” he says through a thick accent, making his friend laugh.

The small hairs on your body stand on end. A primitive warning sounds in the back of your mind as realization dawns on you.

If only the stupid bandit hadn’t ambushed you and stolen you away then you wouldn’t be in this predicament.

One of the men loosens the string of his shirt while the other rolls his sleeves, devouring you with his stare.

A crisp swoosh cuts through the air. It is then followed by a soft thud. 

One of the men’s head fell off but you don’t have time to scream as the world around you is engulfed by darkness.

When you come to, you’re back at the campsite where the bandit is sitting on a tree stump, polishing his sword.

Sukuna observes you but doesn’t say anything. Even when you come to sit in front of him, his lips are sealed.

“I’m sorry…I won’t do it again.”

Sukuna still remains silent.

“Please don’t leave me.”

At that moment, Sukuna puts away his sword and pulls you into his lap. “I told you, you’re mine.”

Sukuna’s words from the day before when he murdered your mind and stole your riches echo in your head. Though you loathe his barbaric behavior, his cruelty, you don’t see that sickening lustful gaze in his eyes like the two men from the previous night.

Perhaps it is why you completely surrender yourself to Sukuna; mind, body, and soul.

Yuuta

“He is handsome.”

“Who? That man child? Do not fool yourself, my lady.”

“Do you think a maiden resides in his heart? Would he trade her for me?”

“Lady Alice!”

Yuuta is unbothered by the whispers of the lords and ladies. He knows he’s handsome for as long as he remembers. Combined with his angelic singing, his beauty is unmatched.

Being a bard is not an occupation Yuuta had fashioned himself for. Yet circumstances have him working as one and the generous pay he receives from stuck up nobles and bored ladies makes up for the dream he was robbed of. 

Yuuta has been to duchies, kingdoms, and even a foreign country once. Singing tales of brave knights, plucking the strings of his lyre to epic romances and yearning hearts, and sometimes even sharing words of wisdom through his lyrics. 

Though Yuuta has no interest in the longing gaze of ladies, princesses, and maidens, there is one woman who has managed to sneak her way and bury herself into Yuuta’s heart.

She is the wife of a baron, forced to marry for the man’s money, to pay off her family’s debt, a union only possible due to her powerful surname.

It is the sadness lingering in her eyes that drew Yuuta to her. Every event of the season Yuuta performs at, she is there; staring at the marble flooring rather at Yuuta’s spectacular performance. 

She is a withered flower and Yuuta wants to breathe life back into her. 

When performing at a coming of age ceremony, Yuuta keeps his focus on his flower. When she excuses herself, he is quick to his feet, following her down the elegant hallway until they reach the balcony.

“Withered is she, my sweet daisy, yet beautiful to me.”

The woman doesn’t startle at Yuuta’s presence, she merely glances over her shoulder.

Yuuta continues, “Her petals wilted, but her spirit sings a song only I can hear, bringing me to you, my dear.”

There are vines decorating the pillars of the balcony. Yuuta plucks a flower he does not know the name of and gives it to the woman.

“Is this supposed to be me?” The woman asks softly, plucking the flower from his hand.

Her fingers brushing against his ignites a spark in Yuuta. 

He watches her admire the flower, smelling it, caressing it with the tip of her finger, and Yuuta wishes. Oh, he wishes. To be the flower. To be touched, caressed, and loved for by the sad woman. 

From the moment he opens his eyes in the morning, to the moment he closes them at night, Yuuta’s heart beats for the woman. Her name dances on his tongue, and his fingers strum a melody on his lyre in her honor. 

- On one particular rainy day, when Shouta was meant to try to walk outdoors for the first time without assistance, you were surprised to see him standing in your office.

- “It’s raining.” He had said with a sad little smile. “I didn’t want to be in my room.” He explained softly, as if hearing the question you have yet to utter. 

- You were a professional so you really shouldn’t be falling in love with your patient. but it had been a long time since you’ve been around someone who easily made you laugh. Eons since you’ve had long conversations about everything and nothing. It felt great to be seen, to be heard. 

- You learned that Shouta was a cat lover, like you. He also loved to drink coffee. Though, he prefers his bitter unlike you who prefers sweeter coffee. Shouta had also spoken about his students. The love and pride he had for them made his eyes grow soft. He cared so much about his students that you, guiltily, fantasized about marrying Shouta. He would make a great dad, you thought.

- Shouta dropping into your office, often unannounced, continued until his last day at the hospital.

- Even when he was discharged, he would stop by just to see how you were doing. Asking if you had your lunch break yet or if you were interested for a short stroll along the hospital’s garden. It had taken him almost two weeks after being discharged that he started courting you. 

- You were hesitant at first, even though your heart yearned for him. Shouta’s job was dangerous. He was a teacher, yes, however, there were many villains targeting him and his students. Which meant that they would target you as well.

- When Shouta and his students were attacked at the training camp, you almost broke off your engagement, scared for your life, scared for his, and scared of the life that had yet to live. But when you saw how went through hell and back to protect you, to protect his students, to protect himself, you agreed to stay. But only on the agreement that if a life threatening situation arose and Shouta could avoid it, then he must protect himself first. 

- You were blessed with a daughter not less than a year into your marriage. 

- Your daughter was an exact replica of Shouta; wavy black hair, rich black eyes that reminded you of the coffee Shouta liked to drink. When the sun hit her eyes at the right angle tiny specks of red shone like expensive rubies. 

- Naturally, you’ve assumed that she would have a quirk that was related to her vision since she took so much after her father.

- what you never imagined, however, was that her quirk would be extremely dangerous and the target of many villains who were hungry for power like hers.

- Your daughter’s quirk to turn people into stone whenever someone made direct eye contact with her.  They would be immobile for five minutes. When she grew older, and stronger, it lasted up to fifteen minutes.

- It first happened with Shouta, a total freak accident. One second you could hear your husband playing with your daughter,  their laughter crystal clear, and the next, you heard a loud thud and the sound of your daughter crying.

- You rushed to the living room and were horrified to find your husband had turned to stone from head to toe. Normally, people would fear such a quirk from their children, but not you. you collected your crying daughter into your arms, running a soothing hand up and down her tiny frame to calm her down from crying. The other hand was busy dialing Recovery Girl on your smart phone.

- Shouta awoke with a start, seeming to have no recollection of what happened to him. Yet when you explained what had happened, Shouta beamed with pride before biting his lower lip in worry.

- It was All Might who suggested for your daughter to visit the numerous support companies to draft protective eye gear for your daughter, something that will allow her to use her eyes without harming herself or others.

- Your daughter, at the tender age of four, wore sunglasses for a month. It made her fussy; crying and throwing away the dark shades. She was only allowed to remove them when showering or when going to bed. Thankfully, the quirk didn’t work against herself when she would stare at her reflection.

- After a whole month had passed, her protective eyegear was delivered through the mail. They looked like ordinary prescription glasses and, had you been unaware of their purpose, you would’ve believed that they were exactly that.

- fortunately, your daughter accepted the protective gear much more than she had with the glasses. “It’s not dark and scary anymore!” she exclaimed with a bright smile. You can see Shouta try not to get so emotional over your daughter.

- Years into the future, and through countless training, you’ve discovered that your daughter could only use her quick on five people, at once or randomly. If she used it in a short amount of time, she would suffer a severe migraine. If she used it on more than five people, she would pass out. If she somehow managed to use it on more than 10 people, she could go into a coma. 

- it wasn’t easy raising a teenager who had to sacrifice so much for the safety of others, to abandon what is socially acceptable in favor of being safe. To turn down sleepovers and road trips in fear of another accident occurring. Terrified that someone might snatch her glasses or knock them off. Some teenagers could be cruel.