#Loneliest God AU | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

saintobio · 1 year ago

Text

sincerely yours. (9)

↳ gojou satoru/reader

when a twist of fate led their marriage to the path of a quintessential tragic romance, two past lovers go through another series of experiences on love, heartbreak, identity, illness, and trauma along the road to a happily ever after.

genre. heavy angst, amnesia, modern au, 18+

tags/warnings. profanity, usage of alcohol, mentions of cheating, implied suicide attempt, toxic relationship, explicit smut

series masterlist -> episode ten

Satoru had a major problem.

And it was his self-control. His lack of self-control was the reason he had engaged himself in an adulterous relationship back when he was married. His lack of self-control was the reason why you had become the recipient of his unreasonable anger in the early stages of your marriage. His lack of self-control was the reason why, out of all the women in the world, he was now sleeping with a friend of yours. For God’s sake, his lack of self-control was probably the reason why you were also pushed to your limits, choosing to cut your marital ties with him and leaving only the scraps of his role as a parent to Sachiro.

Back when he was attending his weekly therapy sessions, his therapist told him that part of what he needed to learn was to control his impulses, resist temptations, and actively exercise his willpower. They were easier to achieve then than now, since he was the loneliest man at the time with no friends, no wife, no son, and no bustling company to run. His decisions remained untainted, his temptations unchallenged, his emotions uninfluenced—a solitary journey at its finest. He was all by himself. How come? It was because he was sent by his mom to Osaka to temporarily seclude him from his harrowing memories in Tokyo, compelling him to sever ties with the outside world and immerse solely in personal convalescence. Reflecting now, it felt no different than being sent to a psychiatric hospital.

He could say it worked at the time. He learned how to keep his emotions at bay. He learned how to control his thoughts, throwing away the bad and keeping only the good. He was a new man by the time he returned to Tokyo, prepared as ever to take on his role as the Chairman of the Gojou Group, ready to once again try and live a normal life. But the moment news had spread about his ex-wife's marriage to his business rival, all the self-control he had painstakingly cultivated seemed to have evaporated in an instant.

Everything also went downhill after that.

He wasn’t going to list down all of the things that happened nor the impact it had on him since you yourself were a witness to them. But if he was going to look at the way your return has changed the trajectory of his life 3 years after you first left, he would still at a hundred percent put all the blame on his shoulders. None of this domino effect would end up like this if he had been a faithful and loving husband in the first place. The pressure from his father was not the only root of all this, the branches also extended to his corporate greed which ultimately ruined his chance at a fruitful marriage with you.

But at least, the chaos should have settled by now. You chose to move forward and he decided to respect your decision by finding his way to another. This should free you both from the emotional torture that had you imprisoned in each other's cage for the longest time. He would still be there for you as the father of your child, but otherwise, he was happy that you had Toji Zen’in by your side to fill in the marital gaps that he had failed to complete.

A heavy sigh escaped his lips. The warm water fell on his body in rivulets, soaking him completely so early in the morning as he decided to take a long shower. For how long? He couldn’t tell. He could stay there for hours if need be. He had to let his mind wander on its own, with a hand pressed against the wall, and another stroking his white hair back. Despite accepting the fact that Toji now owned your love and affection… well, wasn’t that son of a gun too lucky? Did he even realize that the woman he would marry was once Satoru’s entire universe?

Ah, but who cares? Satoru scoffed inwardly, leaning his head back to let the water hit his face. He had Akemi, so why did it matter if you had Toji? He wasn’t bitter. He was just trying to reason with himself that you deserved to be with someone you really, truthfully loved. And he deserved that, too. Maybe not now, but at the perfect time, he could relive the life of a married man after learning from his mistakes the hard way. A much better one. A married man who would never in his life betray, hurt, or ruin his partner. A doting husband who would offer his whole life just to make her happy. He promised to himself that Akemi should have that kind of man from him.

Though, he could ask himself, how far was he from achieving that? He did practice his self-control last night when joined you in the pool—his face, inches away from you. Hand gripping your hip. Eye-to-eye. Skin-to-skin. Your warm breath fanning his cheek. Just another step forward and your lips would touch. But he didn’t let that happen. He mustered all of his power to pull back from the gravity that was drawing him closer to you. Still, he couldn’t deny that you looked absolutely gorgeous last night. As the moonlight illuminated your face, he could swear that the stars also sparkled on your eyes. They must be from the tears you were desperately holding back, but either way, you were still so goddamn beautiful. He almost couldn’t keep his eyes off you last night and had to distract himself from looking at your lips, your collarbone, your chest, your curves…

“Fuck.”

Talk about self-control.

Satoru had none of that right now. His body reacted involuntarily to the thought of you last night. The sensual thought of you. The what-ifs.

What if he had wrapped your legs around his waist and enveloped your lips into a passionate kiss?

He took a deep breath, still holding onto the wall as his other hand traveled to his growing member.

What if he had carried you all the way into the living room and laid you naked on the couch?

Closing his eyes, his hand started moving on its own, stroking his hardened cock and feeling every ridge as he pleasured himself.

What if you had let him devour you? Let him roll his tongue on your entrance and taste your sweet, sweet flesh?

Gojou let out a moan. A quiet yet desperate moan when he continued to jerk himself off faster and rougher. Damn it. He had to keep it low and he better not be heard committing such a sin in the bathroom. Although, he was confident that you were still sound asleep next to Sachiro in your bedroom, so he didn't think you would hear the noise he was making.

After all, it was shameless to know what was driving his feral thoughts right now. Thoughts of you letting him slide his tip along your entrance. Thoughts of him ramming his cock inside your tight cunt, being squeezed by your soft, velvet walls. Thoughts of your breasts bouncing wildly as he continued to hit your most sensitive spot. Fuck. Faster. He would have taken you on all fours, too. He would have let you ride his hardened shaft. He would have pressed you against the sofa and put your legs above his shoulders, letting you milk his cock with the tightness of your cunt. Satoru would release his warm seed into you in every position. He would shoot every drop of his cum straight to your womb, no doubt impregnating you for the second time around. He would absolutely love that. He would love seeing the residues of his wanton desire for you seeping out of your pussy. He would be at bliss watching your belly grow a few months after that, knowing that he had created yet another beautiful life inside of you.

“Y/N…”

Awakened by his senses, Satoru opened his eyes and saw the sticky white mess on his hand and on the wall. What the hell did he just do? More importantly, what the hell was he thinking of?

No one should know about that. Not you, not even Akemi. He didn’t cheat on her, no. He didn’t do anything with you. That shouldn’t be counted as cheating. He didn’t even touch you. And he wasn't even officially dating Akemi.

No, no…

Absolutely not.

Drowning into a pool of guilt, the first thing he did after that sinful shower session was to contact his supposed girlfriend not-girlfiend. And to make things even more awkward, you entered the kitchen in silence at the right time, carrying a sleepy Sachiro in your arms, unaware of the dilemma that was sending your ex-lover into a spiral.

“Morning,” he greeted almost inaudibly, clearing his throat and taking a sip of coffee afterwards. He had to think straight.

“Morning,” was your simple and oblivious reply as you went about your daily morning routine.

Gojou, on the other hand, was typing on his phone because Akemi wasn’t answering his FaceTime calls. He had completely forgotten to update her all day because he had been a little bit too occupied the moment he landed in America. She must be overthinking why he hadn’t reached out to her until now, and he felt extremely awful and responsible for that, but she couldn’t be fast asleep that early, right? It was 7:00 a.m. in New York, so that meant it was only 9:00 p.m. back home.

He nervously rang her number once more, mumbling a ‘please answer’ as he watched her caller ID appear on the screen.

“Dada,” called Sachiro, looking at him as his mother sat him on the high chair to prepare his breakfast.

Still holding his phone, Satoru walked to his son and placed a gentle kiss on his tiny forehead. “Morning, Sachi. Did you sleep well?”

The toddler nodded at him, drinking milk from the baby bottle that he was holding with both hands. His eyes were wide and blue—quite the same hues of blue that would remind you of a clear sky. Satoru couldn’t help but pinch his adorable son’s cheeks.

And while you were busy picking out food from the pantry, Akemi finally answered his call after the fourth attempt and showed her beautiful, soft features on the screen. His eyes immediately lit up at the sight of her. “Hey, how are you?”

He could tell she was still a bit distant and upset because of what happened two weeks ago, when she claimed to have heard him say your name during his sleep. He already made an excuse for it as he also didn’t know why he even did it in the first place, but Akemi was still understandably hurt. He couldn’t blame her.

“I’m fine, how are you?” she tiredly asked, seemingly heading towards her bed. “I just got home from work, that's why I wasn’t answering.”

He could see, in the corner of his eyes, that you were glancing at him but he didn’t return it. All of his focus was on Akemi, feeling bad that he hadn’t exactly been a good partner for her lately. Especially after the shit he just did in the shower this morning, but that was a secret that was meant to be buried. “Alright, did you have dinner already? It’s morning here so I’m having breakfast.”

She offered a small smile albeit the visible exhaustion on her eyes. “I did. How’s Sachiro doing?”

“You wanna see him?” He walked closer to his son, showing him on the screen as his big blue eyes stared at the woman on the other end of the line. “Sachi, say hi to Auntie ‘Kemi.”

“Hiii~” Sachiro happily greeted Akemi, while the latter cooed at the sight of his son. She spoke to him with a gentle and motherly tone, weaving warmth and love into her words. It made his heart full knowing that Akemi would wholeheartedly treat his child as her own, because if there was a slight possibility that she wouldn’t, she knew that Satoru would rather let her go. His child was still more important than any other woman. And so if his future partner couldn’t accept the fact that he had a child with his ex-wife, then they shouldn’t be in his life after all. The case was different with Akemi because she was already your friend and she had the chance to see Sachiro grow up before Gojou even knew his son existed at all. It was a bit complicated, but things turned out to be easier on the part of acceptance.

The only problem was you.

Because by the time the call ended, Satoru could tell that you weren’t in the best mood as you ate breakfast next to Sachiro in complete silence. Your eyebrows were curled into annoyance, and yet your eyes held sadness in them, an expression that had become difficult for him to fathom. Were you jealous of Akemi? He assumed you would say no, but your expressions showed otherwise.

“Y/N,” he called for your attention, hoping that you would look into his eyes for a little bit. Yet, not a chance did you do. “What’s our agenda for today?”

You seemed irritated, if anything. You refused to look at him as you gave a curt reply. “I communicated everything you needed to know via email. You should have checked it instead of letting Miwa do everything for you.”

Jeez. You were definitely angry. “Okay.” He cleared his throat once more. “I just asked in case there was a last minute change.”

“There isn’t. I would have said so if there is.”

“Right.”

Satoru didn’t know how to act in front of his ex-wife anymore. Now that he had seemed to ignite your pique, he chose not to say anything else further as you two finished your meals and cleaned up after yourselves. The only time he spoke again was when he offered to bathe Sachiro so that you could focus on yourself.

You agreed.

And he did his part.

It was simple give-and-take. A transactional relationship, if you must. Nothing else would blossom from that except your responsibilities as parents for Sachiro.

——

The New York trip was already as awkward as it was. And it only just started.

To be fair, it wouldn’t have been as uncomfortable if only Gojou had not decided to make it so. He was the one that made the atmosphere unpleasant by trying to savor every inch of closeness he could get to your skin, only to pull away as if nothing happened. As if he didn’t care about how it made you feel. He even had the audacity to lecture you on how to go about being good parents and setting a good example to Sachiro. Then suddenly, the next morning, he would act like such a loyal and caring partner to Akemi.

The thought of his loyalty made you scoff on the inside. He should be the absolute last one to be saying that. He should be the last one to profess how much of a loyal man he was trying to be to his new girl.

Besides, even before this trip was arranged, you had already made it clear on your mind that the sole purpose of going to New York was for Sachiro's sake. Any interaction outside the need to be there for your son would be unnecessary. He wasn’t someone you still needed in your own personal life nor did he need you in his. Your past relationship no longer mattered in this situation and all that was left was for it to be forgotten. But even with your resistance to be anything more than a parent to your son, Satoru still respected you. He still showed, even in little ways, that he cared about your comfort throughout the trip.

Five days had gone by, and everything you did in New York had been smooth sailing, all thanks to his grand number of connections across the USA. In a short amount of time, Sachiro’s surname had been legally changed, and everything else concerning his birth certificate had been corrected. The only issue left to address was your son’s nationality since Japan doesn’t permit dual citizenship and Sachiro would have to carry a Japanese citizenship and the Gojou name to be able to inherit his father’s assets and multinational conglomerate. You would leave that one up for Satoru to deal with, but everything else had been settled on your end.

Although this trip wasn’t exactly a vacation, Gojou insisted that you two still take Sachiro out to explore the city he grew up in. And you did so by going to Central Park, telling your ex-husband stories of how you used to bring Sachiro there in a stroller when he was still a little baby and that plenty of strangers, both locals or tourists, would coo at him the minute they took a peek at his adorable face. You also took him to the Empire State Building to get the best view of the entire New York City, and Satoru being Satoru couldn’t leave without taking a family photo with you and your son, capturing the beautiful urban cityscape behind you. You could see it in his eyes that even though he was happy to be there, he was also melancholic at the same time. Almost three years of his son’s life were spent in this famous city, without him, and it was as though the bitter memories of those three years for him were haunting him back. Sadness was reflecting off of his crystal blue eyes as he took a minute staring at the view of the city, reminding you that you were the reason why he had missed out on his baby’s first memories.

If guilt could literally eat you alive, you would have been devoured.

“Ready to go, Sachi?” Satoru asked your son, tucking his phone away after having (seemingly) sent Akemi a text message, probably updating her of where he was and what he was doing. In fact, he had been texting and calling her every now and then, as if he was doing his best to reassure her that he wasn’t doing any funny business with you. Has Akemi always been a possessive partner? Even with your years of friendship with her, she had never acted that way in her past relationship. So, was she only like that to Satoru specifically? You wondered if she would go nuts had she heard Satoru tell you how badly he wanted to make more babies with you on your first night here.

Sachiro nodded, clinging to your hand while reaching for his father’s. “Dada, hand pwease!”

Satoru did offer his hand, but mirrored the surprise on your face when your son tried to link your fingers together, urging you to hold each other's hands like a couple. You didn’t want to get too offended by it, but your ex-husband was the first one to pull away. “I, uh, made a reservation for us in Carbone,” he said, unable to exchange eye-contact, “Yuuta will meet us there.”

“Oh, he’s in New York?” you asked, pretending you didn’t notice how he acted allergic to your touch and redirected your attention to your son. “Did you hear that, Sachi? Uncle Yuuta will come and see you.”

Your little one was oblivious to the world, too distracted by the throng of people surrounding the place that he didn’t even notice how his parents were uneasy with each other. To say that you didn’t feel bad for your son was a lie, because it actually broke your heart. Even if you and Satoru were working on co-parenting and making sure Sachiro wouldn’t feel the gravity of a broken household, you knew that when he reached the right age, all of this would still have an effect on him. One day, he would still be asking questions about his parents. Questions about why you separated, why your marriage failed, and why you had to move to New York while his father stayed behind. It hurt. Deep inside, it hurt so much to know that your only son wasn’t given the chance to have a complete family and it felt like a failure on your part as his parent.

You were sure that was what Yuuta thought, too. As you met with him at a fancy restaurant in the city, you could see how his face lightened up seeing his nephew bonding with his parents as if it were a family vacation. He must have known what it was like to have a broken household. In fact, he had lived in a toxic one before, but he still grew up to be a mature and dignified young man who never let the horrors of his family’s actions affect his rational thinking. So if there was anyone in the world who would sympathize the most with Sachiro, it would be Yuuta.

“Sachi,” he spoke to your son fondly, wiping the sauce on the toddler’s chin. Yuuta chuckled as he watched the little boy's grimace after being given a small piece of broccoli. “You don’t like vegetables?”

You fixed the bib on your son’s neck. “He does, but he’s very picky with it,” you tell Yuuta, glancing at Satoru who was busy speaking on the phone with Nanami about what appeared to be matters concerning the company. “Wonder where he got it from.”

“Right.” Yuuta’s eyes turned into moon crescents as he smiled. “I remember nii-san being a little picky.”

“You hear that Sachi?” you teased your son, who looked at you with his cute puppy eyes. You knew that if you had the ability to peak through his toddler mind, it would actually be full of fried chicken. The thought made you laugh. “Don’t be like daddy, okay? Sachi needs to have his veggies so he’ll be strong when he grows up.”

“But…” Sachiro pointed to his father. “Dada is stwong.”

Satoru chimed in at the conversation after having finished the call, “That’s right, Dada’s strong. Mommy could barely even handle me.”

“Do you even know what we’re talking about?” You rolled your eyes, while Yuuta wanted to giggle, but chose to hold it back seeing the awkwardness of the situation.

Satoru shrugged and sat on his chair, eyeing the scrumptious dishes that were served to your table. He was acting like he hadn't been served more expensive meals before. “Have you tried the spicy rigatoni before? I heard it’s famous here.”

You casually answered. “Yes. Toji used to bring me here every time he visited.”

Look, you didn’t mean to overshare nor did you mean to make things even more awkward. You also didn’t mean to slap it in his face about how you were spending your years in New York with Toji. But Satoru, with his pride, took it resentfully.

“Oh, really?” His words were the opposite of his voice. He was mirthless and full of unenthusiasm before changing the topic, redirecting his attention to his step-brother instead. “How’s Harvard?”

Yuuta eased the tension by making small talk, sharing details about his university life, and making sure he didn’t contribute to the growing tension. “I’m really just trying to survive this semester so I can go back home as soon as I graduate.” After taking a sip of his Cabernet Blend, he continued, “Like I promised, I’ll help you with the company.”

You were happy, at least, to know that Satoru and Yuuta had fixed their relationship as step-brothers even after the whole incident with Nana, Eula, and their father. What used to be a relationship full of envy and competition finally became one that was full of mutual trust and support. Yuuta deserved that since he never once wished for his brother’s downfall, while Satoru also deserved to have a family member that had his back and helped him with the business without constantly fighting about inheritance. Because technically, Satoru was the sole heir of the Gojou family, and his dad only made it seem as though he would give it to Yuuta to make his own son comply with his orders. Satoru’s dad was controlling in that sense, and that was what led to all of this.

But the present was more important. Things have changed and mistakes have been learned. It was all up to you on how you were going to manage your new life moving forward.

Only, if only things were a little bit different on his side.

——

You had raised your son all by yourself for the last 3 years, so the presence of his father wasn’t really something you were used to for the longest time. How Sachiro acted around other people was solely a reflection of your teachings, discipline, and guidance as his mother. He didn’t really have a paternal figure up until now, and even if Toji was there to support your journey to motherhood, he never fully meddled with your mother-son relationship nor did he act like a replacement to Sachiro’s biological father. He loved him like his own, but respected the fact that the spot was reserved for Satoru. He knew that. He understood that, because he himself experienced raising a child alone without the presence of a mother. And if you asked him, he, too, would not want Megumi to replace the very love that he was supposed to have for his biological mom. Sure, Megumi could love and respect you, but Toji would still want him to save an unnegotiable spot for his mother in his heart. After all, she had birthed him. And in that same way, you had birthed Sachiro and created him with Satoru during your marriage. If there was anyone Sachiro should look up to, it had to be his father.

And quite frankly, the father himself was doing an excellent job.

But then again, remembering how hands-on Satoru was to you during your pregnancy, you never doubted that he would be a good parent. He may not be a perfect husband, but he loved his child with all of his heart and soul, and he would risk it all just to keep him happy.

It was new to you how, throughout the trip, you didn’t have to take care of Sachiro alone. You and Satoru helped each other harmoniously, attending to your toddler’s needs and making sure he was being prioritized. You were glad. Truly. You were grateful to see that he wasn’t an absent father and that his words weren’t empty when he promised you that he would be a responsible dad to him.

Though, at the back of your mind, you couldn't help but wonder what would happen if he welcomed another child in this world? A child that didn’t come from you? Deep inside, it hurt you to imagine him neglecting Sachiro on the side the minute he welcomed a new baby with Akemi. The reality was, the father would always prioritize the child of the current wife, not the child of the ex-wife. He would still support him, sure. But would he still pay the same level of attention that he was giving Sachiro now? You would probably break in half if Sachiro was thrown to the agonizing realm of feeling like an outsider in his own family because no child deserved that.��If Satoru had that experience first-hand, he should not subject his own son to that same feeling.

You would be selfish to say this, but you wanted to seize the opportunity while Sachiro was still his only son. Hiding him from his father was your fault—you had gone through that a million times and you weren’t shy at holding yourself accountable through that mistake. However, you were already doing your best to make amends and make up for the years Sachiro had missed around his father. He was Satoru’s first and only child, and therefore he should never fight for his father’s affection. You weren’t sure what Satoru’s long term plans with Akemi were, but if they were considering having their own children someday, you would never allow your son to be pushed back at the bottom of the family tree.

Sachiro was the true first-born son of Satoru. He should never have to fight for his position in his father's eyes.

And so on the night of your flight back to Japan, when Satoru asked if he could take Sachiro with him for the rest of the week, you had no problems in saying yes. Your only wish right now was for them to spend as much time together as possible.

“Where are you taking him?” you did ask in spite of your leniency to send your son away, waiting inside the car as the pilot and crew prepared the private jet. “Please send me the full address. I need to know where he’s gonna stay and—”

“You’ll get the details from Miwa,” he casually said, rubbing Sachiro’s back as the little boy slept on his chest. He didn’t bother meeting your eyes as he talked. “I’m just taking him to my vacation home in Osaka.”

Osaka…

That was where his mother isolated him from the rest of the world when he was having terrible episodes. Episodes that worsened after he had found out that you ‘terminated’ his child and abandoned him for good. Shoko once said that they felt like Gojou disappeared from their lives while he was there, because nobody else could reach out to him. They couldn’t visit him nor could they contact him for a year or so until he was mentally ready to come back to Tokyo.

You didn’t want to pry on matters that were sensitive to him, so you chose not to say anything concerning his decision to take Sachiro to Osaka. He must have wanted to reflect on his past experiences, allowing him to heal from them as it brought him to the incommutable life he had now—life knowing that Sachiro actually existed after everything that he was made to believe.

“Please take good care of him, okay?” It was only a reminder, nothing else.

Satoru kept a straight face, nodding before he planted a kiss on his son’s forehead. “I got it from here.”

After a minute of silence, you both got out of the car and you watched him carry the peaceful Sachiro in his arms. You left the sleeping toddler a tender kiss on the cheek before parting ways. “I love you, my baby.” Stroking his hair, you kissed his tiny nose. “Mommy will see you soon.”

Satoru knew that you were staying behind. You had informed him of your plans before you even came here to the airport with him, explaining that Toji would be in Miami and that you had made arrangements to meet with your fiancé there. Satoru didn’t say anything much about it either, simply nodding his head at your decision and telling you to ‘do whatever’ because he was no longer a husband you should report your plans to. There was no hint of jealousy in his stance, but you couldn't miss the flicker of bitterness that did appear on his eyes for a millisecond.

You didn’t even say goodbye to each other as you watched them board the plane. And he didn’t even bother looking back at you to tell you to take care of yourself. Not that you expected anything from him, but a quick goodbye would have been nice since you did spend the last couple of days together. Or perhaps, he was upset about the fact that you were staying behind to meet Toji?

Either way, you were on your own now.

It took some time for you to reach Toji in Miami. He had insisted on meeting you at the airport, but because he had to meet with a foreign investor, you headed straight to the hotel he was staying at. Funny enough, you couldn’t help but compare how different it was to stay in the same accommodation as your fiancé vs with your ex-husband and son. With Toji, nothing felt uncomfortable and sharing a room as a couple was as normal as it should be, but things did feel too formal and too forced. With Satoru, it felt awkward to share the same space with him, but since your son was there, it felt like home. It felt strangely close to home, like it was only right. That staying together as a family was what your heart wanted.

Ever since Satoru went back to Japan with Sachiro, you had been feeling a wave of separation anxiety. Your mind was always left wandering towards them; how they were doing, where they were, what they had for dinner. You wondered if Sachiro was giving his father a headache. Smiling at the thought, perhaps he was giving Satoru a hard time changing his diapers.

“Everything okay?” Toji, noticing your trance, put an arm around you as you two sat at the VIP lounge of the Miami Grand Prix. This was Toji’s scene. If Satoru was a fan of horseback riding and polo, Toji preferred big time F1 races. He even personally knew the racers, the type of cars they were driving, and everything a huge fan had to know. You weren’t all that familiar with these things, so it was a little hard to keep up with his lifestyle.

“Y-Yeah, sorry,” you stammered, realizing how distracted you had been all this time. “What were you saying?”

He drank from his glass of 30 year-old Macallan, downing the liquor like it was mere water. A cloud of disappointment settled over his features. “Not interesting to you, huh?”

“No, I…” You made an effort to place a hand on his nape, giving him an apologetic peck on the lips. “I’m really sorry for zoning out. I was just… I guess I was just a little tired from New York.”

Toji placed a hand on your knee, sighing. “It’s fine. I was just trying to introduce the guys to you,” he said, scooting closer as he pointed to the racers. “You know that guy? Lewis Hamilton. He’s quite popular with the ladies,” then he moved his finger towards the other drivers, “And we got here for Ferrari, Carlos Sainz and Charles Leclerc, also fan favorites.”

Your eyes suddenly caught sight of Gojou’s favorite car brand. “Um, how about McLaren? Who drives for them?”

Unsure if Toji caught on or not, he did take a minute before feeding into your curiosity. “Norris and Piastri.”

You wished you had any idea about F1 so that you could be as enthusiastic as Toji was at this event. He was at his happiest right now and you didn’t want to ruin it by being a boring, uncultured fiancé, because frankly, all these women around would have done a better job at entertaining him. Toji was very eye-candy and you couldn’t blame these models from glancing up at him, especially with how manly and suave he was, dressed like a picture perfect example of an old money businessman. The likes of him were the prey of these desperate influencers, willing to sell their bodies in exchange for a night with him. But truth be told, that was their way of living and you could never find it in yourself to insult them. You didn’t want to shame them for attempting to climb the social ladder because that was how they view money and success, or at least a faster ticket to it.

As long as they didn’t try to make moves on your fiancé while you were around, you wouldn’t be so bothered by a few stares here and there.

Neither was Toji. He must have experienced being stared at during these events plenty of times before, and he probably even sent women home crying because of rejection or worse, humiliation. Now that you think of it, how did Megumi feel when his father was being hit on while watching the Grand Prix? Most importantly, why was the teenage son absent at this current event?

“Love, why didn’t you bring Megumi with you?” you inquired out of a sudden curiosity, knowing that Megumi was always present next to his father during F1 events.

Toji took a sip of the hard liquor once more. “He didn’t wanna go. He was giving me the silent treatment before I left for the US.”

Confusion further blanketed your eyes. “Did something happen back home?”

He let out a deep breath, his face signaling that he was deep in dilemma. “The Zen’in elders want to set him up for an arranged marriage,” he revealed, much to your surprise, “They wanna make sure he’s not gonna end up like me, married to someone who wasn’t ‘qualified’ to be my wife.”

At first you were confused if he was referring to you, but you realized that he was describing his late wife. Megumi’s own mother, the only woman Toji had ever loved by a mile. He fought everyone for her, even turned his back on his own family for her, but claimed that he also ultimately led her to her demise because the elders of his family harassed her until the day she died. It was a tragic love, perhaps even more tragic than yours, so you somehow understood why Toji was conflicted about Megumi’s personal life.

But you? You were strongly against it. “I don’t support arranged marriages, you know that,” you told him with conviction, sympathizing for the poor boy, “It’s not gonna end well. You know what happened to me…”

“I know.” Toji’s eyes were filled with regret. “I know, but there’s nothing I can do about it unless Megumi himself tells me he has someone he loves.”

“Did you ask?”

“He’s tight-lipped about it.”

You sighed. “Well, he’s a teenager. They get pretty shy about these things.”

Forcing a marriage was never a good thing. You couldn’t understand why the concept even existed because it didn’t benefit anyone aside from the people around the married couple. That was why they called it a marriage of convenience. They were married for everyone’s sake but themselves; family name, status, business… You have had enough of it. If only you realized it from the very beginning, you never would have subjected yourself to a loveless marriage with Satoru. Even if your love did grow eventually, things still didn’t work out for the best, and now your life was a mess. A divorced couple co-parenting their only son? There was obviously no convenience gained in that false marriage.

Megumi would just be wasting years of his life tied to a person he didn’t love and so you were hoping that Toji would fight for his son’s right. Because if he truly understood you, he would not subject his son to the same suffering you went through.

“I wish my wife was here,” mumbled Toji, forlornly, “She’d know how to handle these things better than I do.”

Were you not there for him? You swallowed your pride, hiding the pain in your voice. “Right…” A smile was all that you could offer. “I’m sure she would.”

——

Something was different about Toji and you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

It wasn’t his appearance, and neither was it the way he spoke to you. He was all the same except for one thing; the look in his eyes.

He had told you this before. He said that the eyes carry the most truthful and raw emotion that you can see on someone. The presence of love would be visible in someone’s eyes just as you would see stars on a clear, night sky. The lack, however, would mean that the eyes are blank and empty like the dark void in the expanse of the universe. You didn’t have to be poetic to be able to discern the way his eyes communicated his most solemn feelings in spite of trying to show otherwise.

He must have been tired. Being caught up in your back-and-forths with your ex-husband, having to put up with your pretentious co-parenting situation, and the never ending need to keep an open mind about your situation with the same man who had ruined you. When your heart was in pieces, wasn’t he the one who tried to fix it? Wasn’t he the one who remained by your side during your darkest times?

Whether that may be true, whether he truly ever loved you, you could recognize the stark difference of the Toji that genuinely cared for you to the Toji that was only actively trying to be there for you. What had changed him all of a sudden?

“Toji, you drank a little too much.” A weary sigh escaped your lips, pulling all your might to drag your fiancé to lie comfortably in your shared bed later that night. At least, on the way to the hotel room, you had his bodyguards to thank for. They were there to haul him while he was in his drunken stupor, letting you lead the way, and dumping him carefully to his bed because there was no way you would be able to carry such a muscular man all by yourself. Now that you were alone with him, you decided to care for him the same way you used to do when Gojou was coming home drunk at night. Starting with his shoes that you took off, his shirt that you unbuttoned, his pants that you unzipped. “Come on, love. I’ll get you changed.”

The verdant hues of his eyes weren’t present. They were hiding behind his lids, refusing to meet your gaze. But if anything, he did open his mouth to speak, “...You. You wanna know a secret?”

Drunken words are sober thoughts, you reminded yourself. Of the numerous times Satoru had gotten drunk during the early stages of your marriage, it was how you found out that deep inside him, he did care for you. That in spite of his ill-tempered exterior, he was a man deprived of parental love and support. What would be the case for Toji, then?

“Yeah?” You waited for his answer, slipping his shirt off and revealing his toned body.

The scar on his mouth moved when he displayed a mirthless smile. He was as drunk as an alcoholic would be. “I don’t… think… I can love you the same way I loved my first wife.”

Your heart paused. In fact, every heartbeat became heavy. You knew how he felt, but didn’t expect him to say that out loud. “I-Is that so…?”

“Absolutely,” he mumbled, chuckling inaudibly. He was at a point where he was too far gone to realize the magnitude of the words he was saying to you. “Even if you try your best, she was everything I wanted in life and the only woman I could ever offer my heart to. She’s irreplaceable, and I don’t feel guilty about it... because I know you’re still into Satoru, too.”

“That’s…” You held your breath, holding back the sudden tears that formed in your eyes. “That’s not true.”

Toji wasn’t done yet, however. He still went on with his drunken speech like he was finally pouring out raw, yet hurtful words out of the bottle. “Who knows? You would’ve had him touch you back in New York if you didn’t have me. You would’ve had him impregnate you, have his second child with you, and guess what? He still won’t be loyal to you.”

The pain in your heart increased tenfold. Everything went still and every minute felt like a stab to your soul. Should you say something? Should you get angry at him? No, no you couldn’t. Your chest was tightening and you knew it was smart not to let such negative emotions overpower you. His words were just a little difficult to grasp because Toji never in his life had been callous with his words to you. The tears that fell from your eyes were from the betrayal that you felt after hearing the cruel words he had uttered. And yet, you tried to hold on to that thin string of hope that Toji’s words didn’t come from a place of truth.

“That’s enough, Toji. Go to sleep.” You pulled away, swallowing the bitter taste of weakness in your voice.

He hummed, unaware of the pain he had put you through. “The more I look at you, the more I realize how much I actually don’t want to spend my whole life with you,” he admitted, with little to no regard for your current feelings, “I can’t fill this emptiness by being with another empty soul. And if there’s one thing I’m most grateful for, it’s that I let you run away that day before I fulfilled my vows with you—”

“Enough!” You shot up from bed and wiped the flood of tears on your eyes. “Enough! I’ve heard everything you wanted me to hear, okay?! Enough!” you raised your voice in despair, almost begging for him to stop tearing your heart asunder. “I get it! I fucking get it… so enough. Please, Toji.”

Drunken words are sober thoughts.

A drunk mind speaks a sober heart.

Alcohol is a truth serum.

The revelation of Toji’s true feelings that night was a reminder to you that he was just like any other man. That you should have never put him in such a high regard, thinking that he would be the prince charming that would save the poor damsel in distress. Why? What would he benefit from someone like you? You only deluded yourself into thinking that a man like him would take a single mother so seriously. You were only meant to be a placeholder for his dead wife after all.

A placeholder, certainly. Not even deserving to have the title of a wife.

——

There was a huge contrast between being with you and Sachiro in New York vs being with Akemi and Sachiro in Osaka. The difference? There was no awkward air between Akemi and him. They were free to do things as they will—no restrictions, no certain do’s and don’ts. They were happy to have each other’s company, minus the guilt nor the unease of being by each other’s side. If anything, Satoru bitterly assumed that you were having the time of your life in Miami with Toji. You were so keen to see the man back there before parting ways with your ex-husband and son like you were simply discarding them to the side.

If so be it, then fine. Satoru had all the right to have his son all to himself while you were gone. Besides, Akemi was just one call away and she was everything he could ever ask for. She cared for Sachiro as if she was his own mother and Satoru couldn’t be more grateful that he didn’t need to work on building a bond between her and his son.

In fact, Akemi very much knew how to win Sachiro’s heart. As they took his adorable son to Universal Studios that day, she was nothing short of a caring mother. She had acted as a guardian to his son throughout the rides, letting the toddler enjoy his time at all the wonderful attractions that the theme park had to offer. Not once did his son cry too, so that only meant that they were doing a great job at taking care of him.

Of course, it was a different story in the afternoon. After having spent all of his energy during the day, Sachiro had become tired and hungry by dinner time. But he wasn’t such a difficult kid to tend to, so Satoru was proud that his son still wasn’t throwing a tantrum even after a whole day of not having you around.

“We’re gonna get Sachi fried chicken,” he enticed the pouting toddler, kissing his forehead while Akemi carried him in her arms. “Is that what you want?”

Sachiro nodded and wrapped his little arms around his auntie’s neck. “Chicken, dada.”

Akemi smiled at the child’s gesture, tempting her to also place a kiss on his cheek. “You’re so cute and well-behaved, Sachi.”

“—Satoru?”

At the familiar voice, all three of them turned to the woman standing behind like a deer caught in the headlines. She was tall for a woman, slender, and had long, auburn hair, rosy cheeks, and ivory skin. Next to her was a tattooed man with salmon pink hair, a piercing on his ear, and a very defensive stance. Ah… How timely.

Sera and Sukuna.

Satoru wasn’t sure if he should openly greet them, after all, they weren’t acquaintances. And it was only recent that he got his memories back, triggered by Sera's presence at the expo. Other than that, he had no business with the two of them. Sukuna wasn’t a business partner of his, so him and Satoru had no formal connection towards each other. As for Sera, she might be his ex-girlfriend, but they didn’t exactly have the healthiest relationship to begin with, so…

“Of all the places,” she mumbled, almost gaping at the sight of him. Her eyes then trailed off to Akemi and Sachiro, with which her expressions shifted to guilt. Did she recognize his son? Did she remember the horrible attempt she did to harm his child during his ex-wife’s pregnancy? The memory was flooding Satoru’s brain like a tsunami. Yeah, in that case, Sera should definitely be filled with guilt. She tried to kill this harmless child.

He cleared his throat, now becoming protective over his son at the presence of his ex. “We gotta go—”

“I guess it’s true,” Sera spoke again, this time redirecting her attention to Akemi. “The rumors, I mean. It’s all just surprising to me considering how obsessive Satoru was to Y/N.” She paused, seemingly wanting to comment at her ex-boyfriend’s current relationship in a mocking way. She kept her eyes on Akemi only, while Satoru was left wondering why Sera was acting hostile towards her. What was her deal now? She wasn't in the position to be acting all entitled to Gojou anymore, but here she was, talking to Akemi like she had met her before. “Did you know? He sacrificed everything for her. No one else made him beg on his knees the same way Y/N did.”

He couldn’t even tell how Akemi felt while Sera was clearly taunting her with her words, but she still managed to smile and excuse herself, keeping Sachiro away from an environment that should only be between adults. It was ridiculous, surely. What was Sera thinking trying to subject his son around that kind of hostility? Balling his fists, Satoru turned to Sukuna and spoke to him man-to-man. “You’d better keep your woman entertained so she’ll stop meddling into other people’s business.”

Sukuna, however, found the situation equally humorous. “Don’t worry. We both are entertained.”

Making a spectacle of Satoru’s personal life? No wonder they ended up together. They were both pieces of shit.

Before Satoru turned on his heels to follow Akemi, Sera still had one last thing to say to him. This time, she was more calm and less malicious—her eyes following Akemi’s trail before looking back at him, “Satoru, if you have truly grown as a man, you won’t do this to Y/N.”

——

Sachiro was fast asleep when they returned to the Gojou clan's vacation home.

Meanwhile, since the night was young for the two adults in that house, Akemi and Satoru shared a passionate session in the living room downstairs, letting her ride him as he placed soft kisses on her collarbone. They tried to keep quiet, obviously, and all the lights were turned off, leaving only the moonlight illuminating their view. After a few more minutes into their lovemaking, they eventually met their climax and tried to catch each other’s breath, embracing her in his arms as she fell limp against him.

“Satoru, I missed you a lot while you were gone.”

“...Same.”

Silence engulfed them for some time until she let out an exasperated sigh. It was clear in her facial expressions alone that she was pondering about the whole scene with Sera earlier. “That girl earlier, Sera, she—”

“Don’t mind her.” Gojou closed his eyes and leaned his head against the backrest. He knew he had to clear things up straightforwardly, leaving no room for any misunderstandings. “She just loves riling people up. It’s ironic she’s coming at Y/N’s defense now like she didn’t torment her back then. She’s not worth paying attention to.”

“Okay.” Akemi pulled away, cupping his face and stroking his cheek. She also offered him an angelic smile while doing so. “But you don’t feel that way anymore, right? For Y/N?”

Satoru took a deep breath, but steadied the movements of his chest. He felt defensive all of a sudden. “No.”

Her smile grew more relaxed as she pressed a light peck on his lips. “Right.” And for a while, they both stayed silent. His thoughts ran straight to you, while hers was quite on a different route. “Earlier when I put Sachiro to bed, he called me his mama.”

His eyes widened. “Oh… he did?”

She answered with a nod. “I don’t know if he’s just half asleep calling for his real mommy, but… At that moment, it made me realize how much I want to have my own,” she hinted at him, wistfully staring at his blue eyes with her shining ones, “with you.”

——

You didn’t take the flight back to Tokyo.

What you took was an immediate flight straight to Osaka where you knew your son and your ex-husband would be. You weren’t sure if it was due to the height of your emotions, but you surely let your impulse win the best of you this time.

You just wanted to escape. It was for the first time in your life where you were dying to set yourself free from Toji’s presence, the very same person who you once likened to a buoy in an open sea. Now he was no longer that. He was far from that. He was an anchor pulling you down at the deepest part of the ocean. Needless to say, the pain was still fresh from your heart when you took the earliest flight back home after his drunken confession to you.

Despite the many missed calls and texts and emails he had sent you, none of them were returned. None of them were seen, or read, or had been replied to.

All you wanted to do was get to your son. Your son. Your only comfort from all the painful things that the world has thrown at you. If not for Sachiro, you would have long ended yourself. But because he was born in this world, because he relied on his mother for love and guidance, you had to be strong and you had to seek the comfort in your heart from him.

They could all turn their backs on you, but never will your son do.

And so, after a few back-and-forth emails with Miwa to confirm the address of Satoru’s residence in Osaka, you ignored the jetlag that was hitting your body and traveled straight to his place without a wink of decent sleep. Sachiro. Sachiro was all you ever thought of when you asked your driver to drop you off the park nearby the Gojou clan's residence as soon as you spotted your son's mop of white hair, him running across the small bridge and pointing towards a fish in the pond. Your son was happily calling all the fishes, gushing about them to Satoru who stood next to him.

You didn’t even care at how you looked during that moment. You just wanted to get to your son and embrace him in your arms. He had been away from you for way too long and you had already grown pale and sick from the separation anxiety that engulfed your heart and mind.

You had to have your son. You had to hold him.

“Sachi!” you called out, a smile present on your face as you made your desperate way towards the bridge. Your son looked at you the moment he had heard your voice, and was already skipping towards you with a bright smile on his face. “My baby!”

Satoru’s face, on the other hand, turned pallid. His eyes were full of surprise, unable to believe that you were actually right in front of him. It was like he had seen a ghost. No, worse than a ghost. Why? Did he not expect you to come when he had let Miwa send the address to you? Were you not welcome to visit your own son?

“Mamaaa!” Sachiro hugged you tightly, allowing you to attack his cute face with kisses all over.

“Mommy missed you so much, my baby.” You could almost cry. As young as he was, he had no idea how much comfort he was bringing into your heart. Just to be able to see him, hold him, kiss him was enough for you to feel complete again. It was at your brokenness did you realize how much Sachiro could fix you whole.

“Y/N, I thought you…” Satoru paused, confusion seemed to be settling on his features as you looked up at him. “You’re supposed to be back by Monday.”

For a moment, you were reminded of the reason you came home earlier than intended and it stung your heart to think about. “Change of plans.”

A small scoff left his lips. “Don’t tell me you left Toji back there.”

I did, you wanted to say. Satoru had no single idea how true his words were, but that was none of his business and you had no plans of confiding in him about what had happened. You may be angry with Toji now, but you still respected him enough not to do terrible things behind his back.

“I had to see my son,” you lied, although it wasn’t exactly one, and got up while holding your toddler’s hand. “Are you ready to go home with mommy, Sachi?”

Reluctance clouded your son’s face, and he became more resolute at shaking his head the moment a woman’s voice called for him from afar. A woman, a very, painfully familiar woman came into view a few meters away from you. Standing there was your best friend, Akemi Hirai, looking at you with wide, mortified eyes as soon as she saw your presence.

And in a snap, Sachiro ran to her. Your son ran straight to her, joyfully and excitedly as if she was his real mother.

How many more heartbreaks do you have to go through?

How many more tears do you have to hold back?

“I…” Your hands were shaking. Your entire body was on the verge of breaking down. All this time, your son had been in this vacation home living like a happy little family with your ex-husband and best friend.

Now, he even refused to go home with you.

Gojou scanned through the look on your eyes as though he was reading your emotions, but you showed none of it. Not a single emotion could be seen on your face. Not an ounce of pain shown, despite seeing how your son immediately forgot about you and headed straight to another woman. How excited he was to spend more time with his dad and his new girlfriend. How, much to your discomfort, he refused to go back to Tokyo with you. You saw the future family Sachiro was about to have without you in the picture, and damn did it hit you like a truck.

Why, why did everyone in your life choose others before you?

“I’m sorry. I’ll bring him to your house Monday morning,” said your ex-husband in a soft, delicate voice, almost as if he was being careful with you. “We’ll take care of him.”

You could simply nod, avoiding eye-contact with anyone in the vicinity except for Satoru. “Okay...” you struggled with words. Your entire body was shaking. The last thing you wanted was to sound like a selfish mother, but frankly, you were about to self-destruct. “Just keep him happy… that's all I ask.”

Behind your mask of indifference, Satoru knew what right words had to be said. You needed reassurance, and that was exactly what he gave you. “I won’t ever take him away from you, Y/N. I promise.”

You watched them walk away, leaving you alone with a look of sympathy that you didn’t need. Sympathy that you despised having received. This should serve as a wake up call to you that no one in this world would ever love you. That even your own child would, one day, abandon you.

As tears fell from your eyes, you felt a certain pang on your chest that hurt worse than every other pain combined. “You know you’re not so good with promises, Satoru.”

#series: sincerely yours #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo angst #jjk angst #gojo satoru angst #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru x yn

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harrie-fic-center · 11 months ago

Text

satoru gojo

12:03 pm by yueebby

a bird's song by alexiroflife

a family forged in curses by livinghostly

a night to remember by ianyoa

a typical family by literalia

actor au by selarina

after what happened by kingkohona

all mine by yueebby

always, eventually, yours by steleir

apocalypse by strxxberries

as if the memories have a heart that only beats at night by sttoru

ask me to leave and i'll stay forever by twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat

astral cadence by voidslasher

back off, kid by inupibaldspot

bewitched by lovelyprincessmarie

beyond the unending night by stellamancer

blurb by awearywritersworld

blurb by sttoru

bunny's adventures by kaiseriin

butterfly effect by jikoolkat

close by certifiedfreec

cupid's quiver by venusiansilk

death is pretty but his eyes are prettier by chronicdisasterwrites

decidedly yours by elusivemoon

don't take me home yet by malo_star

do you like me? nope by awearywritersworld

drunk by coconutdays

drunk in love by yueebby

drunk wishes by alexiroflife

espresso by gumify

fear by chuluoyi

for better, for worse by alatushills

for you, i would by chronicdisasterwrites

geto's little sister by irxdescent

gratitude by awearywritersworld

heartbreak, heartbreak by littlepookie

how the star and the moon found the planets by kenmasroots

how to keep house while drowning and buy yourself the lillies by venusstar

i wasn't waiting by tender-rosiey

i will hold on to you for as long as you let me by livinghostly

intrinsic warmth by thatdesklamp

i will hold on to you for as long as you let me by livinghostly

ito by peekamatcha

keep dreaming! by yueebby

kickoff by celestie0

know it all by elusivemoon

light sleeper by stsgluver

like a tall child by hangelvr

love entries by chuluoyi

married on purpose by chuluoyi

meet cute by teddybeartoji

migranes by stsgluver

musing memories by myuroll

my heart is like paper by strawberrylover44

my wife by tender-rosiey

not so invisible strong by sahkuna

nothing stays the same by transitorywhim

october by shogunish

playing dangerous by satorkive

promise by stsgluver

race to the finish line by itadorey

reflections by staryuuu

snapshot by stsgluver

suffocation by foxisune

summer skies, winter lies by miyaspudding

synchronise by vagabond_umlaut

take me back to before by stsgluver

tell me you don't want me by awearywritersworld

thank you, mom by hananosami

the butterfly effect by ranposs

the honoured, the blessed. by sucker4sadlove

the loneliest sorcerer alive by lizlou2

the moon, the stars, and the sun by ealynwrites

the north face by meiieiri

the path to insanity starts with you by aveirix

the strongest by emefaerie

the thorn in your side by sugurustattoo

the three times gojo thinks he might be in love and the time he knows for sure by awearywritersworld

to build a home by just-jordie-things

too many beds by dyaz-stories

us and them by mononijikayu

walk him like a dog by inupibaldspot

what lies in the ocean by ealynwrites

when i talked to the moon last night, i told her about you. by for-ests

where did i go wrong by hiroka

wingman ain't subtle by inupibaldspot

would that i by suguwu

yearning observing yearning by venusblooms

you are not a god (just a man i love) by haveuseenthis

you are somebody that i want to keep by twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat

you make my heart flutter and fibrillate by vagabond_umlaut

you touched my hair and i almost passed out by chronicdisasterwrites

#fic rec #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru reader #jjk fic rec

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softwetmoss · 25 days ago

Note

Saw your post asking for trc fic recs, so thought I’d send some of my favourites <3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23148997/chapters/55401454

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32632513/chapters/80949496

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30747281

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21093788

Thank you so much! the tbr list is already looking delicious

the collected - by philosophersandfools - angsty slow burn - 95k complete

'The worst part about all of this, Ronan thought bitterly, was that being kidnapped proved Declan had been right about something.' A purveyor of magical objects adds a dreamer and a psychic to his collection of curiosities. OR The AU in which Adam and Ronan only meet for the first time after they’ve both been kidnapped by Greenmantle.

Magnetic - by MonsieurBlueSky - angsty slow burn - 231k complete

Ronan hesitated, and cursed the second he did because he knew that meant Kavinsky had won. He turned back to the car, falling into the passenger's seat. "Take me home." Kavinsky threw his head back and laughed. "You sorry sack of shit," K said. He put his hand on Ronan's cheek, soft and steady. Then he kissed him hard. "I am your home." [Or; an AU in which Ronan never befriended Gansey and after the death of Niall Lynch, Gansey isn't there to pull Ronan back from the edge. Kavinsky is there instead, ready to push him over.]

Somebody's Gotta Catch Him Out - by KellieAltogether - murder fic - 7k oneshot

Even after Aglionby is over and they've gone their separate ways, Gansey, Ronan, Adam, and Noah still meet up every Tuesday night at Nino's. When Noah doesn't show up one week, all fingers point to foul play by Barrington Whelk. With no evidence for authorities other than Noah's habitual ghosting on plans, Ronan and Adam take it upon themselves to investigate and get justice for their friend.

in which gansey is the loneliest most connection-starves boy in the world, and ronan is full of light and love and warmth - by elliptical - angsty character study - 10k oneshot

“I am going to strangle you. Jesus Christ.” “Come on.” Ronan leans across the gearshift, now, knocks his elbow against Gansey’s arm. “Don’t you ever just want to love being alive, man?” “You,” Gansey says, slightly calmer, but still with the air of a witness damning a defendant, “are a terrible influence.” “God,” Ronan says happily, “I hope so.” - Or, a fic about how Ronan saved Gansey long before Gansey ever needed to save him.

#the moss is whispering #trc #pynch #ronan lynch #adam parrish #the raven cycle #please rec me something

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psychotic-nonsense · 2 months ago

Text

I AM INCONSOLABLE.

THE 7TH TF2 COMIC DROPPED TODAY.

I HAVEN'T PROPERLY TOUCHED TF2 IN YEARS. I HAD TO READ IT JUST SO IT'LL GO AWAY.

BUT GOD. FUCKING. DAMMIT.

THEY'RE MY BOYS. THEY SAVED ME WHEN I WAS LONELIEST. THEY GAVE ME SOMEONE TO LOVE, HOWEVER BRIEF. THEY GAVE ME ART AND WRITING PAST ANYTHING I HAD EVER KNOWN BEFORE.

THIS COMIC.

THIS. FUCKING. COMIC.

it was beautiful. perfect. no notes.

we saw the mercs one last time in the style i think they belong in most. we got closure. we got an epilog. we got happiness.

we got their story's goodbye, but their life shall exist in the people that continue to love their world. Maybe that will include me once more, not just using it as a base for aus. I shall see

To Team Fortress 2. To Rick May. Thank you.

#team fortress 2 #tf2 #tf2 comics #tf2 7th comic #team fortress 2 comics

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bunnyuki · 1 year ago

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UNSAID WORDS. toge inumaki

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ) gift for: @darlingspeach

CW!! AFAB READER, she/her pronouns. au fantasy/medieval. toge is a dragon, reader is a human. mentions of slaughtering/people dying/hunting. mentions of blood and injuries. he doesn't understand much of human language. this is very short and silly, i apologize. SFW, FLUFF.

YOU DON’T SEE as many dragons around as you used to. the kings of the earth and the heavens were destroyed by greed. their wings were struck by spears and cannons, their blood was collected and tested as a product. the rich wear their scales at dinner parties, because they become necklaces and delicacies. their teeth became hunters’ trophies. dragons had nothing against humanity, but humans had a desire to have everything. their ruin brought that of other peoples.

and so, the remaining dragons fled. running from the world, choosing the loneliest places to call home. deprived of reliable companions, of their companions with wings, dealing with the losses of their loved ones. nothing was left for them but memories and bones. so disappeared that they became merely legends.

fantastic stories that parents told their children to amaze them, or scare them. false and lying stories for merchants desperate to sell their products cheaply. one of the strongest, most influential and powerful races in the world. reduced to nothing more than tales. a small belief spread among the dragons. humans were dirty. rotten, spoiled. disgusting creatures that cared about nothing. the sick apple that would rot the rest of the basket. by extension, hatred for those creatures that had barely sustained themselves for a century grew. humans who encountered dragons and their treasures did not come out alive to tell the story. and no one heard from them again.

life in a village is not easy. taxes are merciless, and nobles drown in champagne while families in your village count coins to find out if they can eat. you are not exempt from this. the marquis who controls the region is obsessed with more amounts of money. the village has been going through difficulties, and with winter approaching, some have already said their goodbyes. people will die. that is a fact. for the king and his court, nothing more than numbers.

the sweet embrace of death comes to seek everyone, eventually. this is the mortal life. but that’s not how you’ll end up. huddled in a bed, on a cold morning, praying to a god who wouldn’t listen to you. you refuse. that will not be your end.

plantings have been disappointing. food becomes scarcer every day, and from what it looks like, this will be a year with lots of snow and abundant hunger. and for this reason, a good deal of adapted hunting became the main source of food and income.

the local forests are dark, specks in the middle of nowhere that is your village. full of trees and animals that need to hide from people like you. like a squirrel collecting dried fruit and nuts. all you have is a rusty knife, a crossbow with five arrows, and faith. not in god, not in greater forces. all you need is yourself.

the traps you planted exist in strategic points. hidden by grass and branches, abusing the natural environment to create the illusion of safety. merely for a noose to tighten around the body of a small animal, or a bear trap to bend into a cruel bite.

checking the traps daily has become part of the routine. just as many other villagers were forced to adapt, so were you. the skins are usually removed and worn by you. or sold.

instead of finding a small animal split in half by your bear trap, what’s in front of you now is a boy. a young one. maybe your age. his purple eyes seem to contain decades of wisdom you couldn’t dream of. his hair has an abnormal tone, like a very pale shade of blonde. he turns over and groans, his ankle caught in the trap. the metal teeth dig deeper into the flesh every time he moves, and the blood is thick and red.

but what really draws attention to him are his horns. and the tail. highs rising from the forehead and rising, white like the snow that will soon fall, with purplish tips. the same pattern for the long, tail full of scales. his nails are sharper than normal. when he opens his mouth to groan in pain, his teeth look like fangs. around his mouth, there's a strange pattern that doesn't seem to be a painting, but his skin. snake eyes and fangs.

he raises his arms to try to open the trap and free himself. the skin on the forearms has traces of scales of the same whitish tone.

his first instinct seeing you is hissing. actual hissing. like a scared snake, ready to pounce. the reaction of a scared, injured animal. you— pity him.

of course, you shouldn't. legends about dragons make it very clear what they think of your species. this boy would make you a forgotten corpse once he had the chance. but that didn't seem true. he was scared. alone, lost. his ankle caught in a trap that hurt more every moment. contrary to common sense, you choose to put the beast down and follow your instinct. approaching slowly, with your hands raised.

“easy there.” another hiss. it's a clear message. stay away. your steps are slow and you show that you are not holding any weapons. “i'm not going to hurt you. i'll help.”

no matter how sweet and loving you force your voice to be, the distrust in his eyes doesn't go away. you crouch before the stranger, staring for a moment. he is a pretty boy. you can't deny that.

your hands grip the bear trap, and you look him in the eyes. “I'm going to open this, and you're going to take your foot off. all good? on three. one. two. three.”

at the end of the count, you muster the strength your hungry muscles allow you to open the bear trap. the stranger quickly understands the message and moves away from it, allowing you to let the metal go without consequences. his hands release the trap, and it closes again with a click. the metal resonates as it strikes itself. there is fresh blood on his fingers and on the trap, and his face turns to look at the boy.

he's sitting by a tree, grabbing his injured ankle with a groan. you approach slowly again, and he nearly jumps out of his skin. his eyes narrow in suspicion.

“hey. hey, i'm not going to hurt you. okay? i promise. just let me help.” he frowns at your words, his lips parting to reply in a language you do not know. oh, well. this can be complicated.

“i don't— i don't understand.” you pause, moving to sit besides him. he furrows his brows, but doesn't say a word. “can you understand what i am saying?”

by his pout and frown, you think the answer is no. okay. what to do now, then? you quickly point to yourself, pronouncing your name out loud. then again, slowly. he repeats, the sound beautiful on his tongue. his pronunciation is a little bad at first, but the third time he's repeating it, he seems to have understood.

he follows the example, pointing to himself. “toge.” he states, and your eyes narrow.

“toge. okay. i think that's your name. you are injured.” you point out to his ankle, and he stares at you for a moment. if he could speak your language, you are sure he would be sarcastic right now. oh, don't say.

you gesture nervously, trying to sign you wish to help. after almost ten minutes of denying and hesitation, he holds out his injured foot to you. your hands are gentle, and you don't touch the injured area unless you have to. he hisses and groans in pain.

toge stares at you, decided to say something. his lips part, and he sounds confident when he says. “salmon.” you frown.

“what?”

he repeats again. salmon. seaweed. tuna mayonnaise. he only talks about...ingredients? toge is desperately trying to tell you something, confused why you don't understand the message. then it clicks. oh.

“you only know ingredient names. that's all you know in my language.” you murmur. he nods slowly, and you sigh. communicating like this won't be impossible, but it will prove itself as a challenge. but these thoughts are for later. he is injured. because of you.

it's your obligation to help this young dragon — secretly. the people in the village would take every last drop of his blood for gold coins. you'll have to improvise. “okay. uhh. does it hurt much?”

he pauses. “salmon?” another sigh escapes your lips.

this will be complicated.

#[ ♡⃗ ] writing.#jjk #jjk x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #inumaki x you #jjk inumaki #jjk fluff #jjk toge x reader #toge inumaki x reader #toge inumaki x you

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cassmouse · 3 months ago

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CHECKMATCH BUT ITS 'THE LONELIEST GIRL IN THE WORLD' BY NOAH FLOERSCH. I FEEL VERY VERY PASSIONATE ABOUT THIS

Maybe some sort of AU where Garraka never happened and Melody instead just stumbles across Phoebe in New York alone?

Oh my god what if THIS is my actual fic contribution to the fandom maybe I should

#checkmatch #phoebe x melody #phoebe spengler #melody ghostbusters #phelody #ghostbusters frozen empire

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lexa-griffins · 15 days ago

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Why is Love Goddess Lexa known as the loneliest of gods? Can't she have anyone she wants given her title

You know i should be going to bed but I love talking about this au so you're getting an answer 😝

So Lexa had a whole mythos and a profecy around her - one she does not know about. She is destined to meet and fall in love with a mortal. However the King of the Gods, her father, fears humans will use this profecy to use her godly powers and take advantage of it so he takes the human form of Titus, her priest, and makes sure Lexa does not appear to any human nor speaks to any of them in fear she will find the one she is destined for and that they'll cause her pain or fall in love with the wrong one that will break her heart. Therefore, Lexa has been taught love is for humans and not for gods.

In time, mortals have given her the name of the loneliest of gods as she is the only god who does not appear to mortals and is still without her destined love.

That is until a young love healer comes storming into Lexa's temple angrily demanding of her goddess to fall in love as so many around her have, given she has dedicated her entire existence to serving Lexa and healing broken hearts, the only one unable to be fixed being her own.

Titus really dislikes to see Clarke coming around. As much as he dislikes seeing the goddess of love blooming an entire field for one mortal girl.

#letter opened #au: love goddess lexa #lexa spends her days allowing love to bloom while being taught love is a weakness given her godly status that she is not meant for it #she is so lonely all the time the profecy she knows nothing about extending centuries now #and Clarke keeps reincarnating unknowingly until she is to met and fall in love with the goddess

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ilikereadingthisiswhatilike · 1 year ago

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Ellie Williams

Mood Board @berrymuttbb

(X) = Smut

Missing Spring @yohibmbi Summary: Ellie’s on a mission & you miss her so very dearly. Warnings: Toxic Ex Special Tag: Dirty

Glue @whore-era Summary: In which jackson's sweetest girl crushes on the town's grumpy asshole. Warnings: None Special Tag: None

Summary: she only needs you when she's strung off drugs & alcohol. Warnings: Angst, Drug Use Special Tag: None

When I was your girl. @hunnylagoon Summary: You and fell in love as nobodies and fell out of love in the limelight. Now you are forced to deal with ghosts who haunt you like a melody. Warnings: Angst, Brake up Special Tag: Singer AU

BEYOND SALVAGE @angelsforthenight Summary: you’re somebody that’s virtuous, staying in an all girls catholic boarding school. fallen victim to the vast fear of god, you try your hardest not to sin. however what happens when an embarrassing incident catches a certain rogue girl’s attention — who absolutely reeks of sin? Warnings: Religion Special Tag: School AU

pretty baby, feel me @lordcowgirl (X) Summary: It's a hot summer day and Ellie makes a quick stop at the loneliest of gas stations. When you think you'll melt under the heat, Ellie proves herself as a different alternative. Warnings: None Special Tag: Dirty

YOU GET ME SO HIGH @kannism (X) Summary: Ellie takes you shoping Warnings: None Special Tag: Dirty

Look like an angel (X) Summary: Ellie williams, the college’s most popular dealer takes an interest in you, the most angelic sweet shy girl she had ever landed eyes on. and when the opportunity arises, she makes a move. she wants you to be hers. Warnings: None Special Tag: Dirty

Where We Meet @s-4pphics (X) Summary: Monsters form your past come back. Warnings: Angst, Death, Visions, Animal Death Specials Tags: Demon AU, Dark

Tag! you’re it @bambiesfics (X) Summary: You…need…to…run. Warnings: None Specials Tags: Predator, Pray, Dirty

Fucking Milfs @bambiesfics (X) Summary: Ellie likes Milfs and your the biggest milf in town. Warnings: Age Gap Specials Tags: Muilt Chapter

GOD, FORGIVE ME @baptismbaby (X) Summary: Ellie likes to be mean to you. Warnings: Bullying, Pier Presser, Religion Specials Tags: Muilt Chapter

One of your girls @lovelettersfromluna (X) Summary: When Ellie’s usual filming partner tells her she’s gotten into a relationship, she ends up needing to find a new one, who better than her sweet little roommate? Warnings: None Specials Tags: Cam girl au

K.O. @callmelola111 (X) Summary: As hours, minutes, and seconds count down till the new year, secrets are revealed and trust is broken. who knew the downfall of your life could be so freeing—and that a total stranger would be the one to catch you. Warnings: Toxic Relationship Specials Tags: None

Ghostly Night @lonelyfooryouonly (X) Summary: Going on a Halloween party and meeting someone with a Ghostface mask couldn't go that wrong, could it now? Warnings: Muder Specials Tags: Muilty chapter. Ft. Dina

Dina and Ellie @coeurify (X) Summary: Dina and Ellie enjoy their time with you. Warnings: None Specials Tags: None

Study Method @elsdolly (X) Summary: You were the perfect housewife Warnings: None Specials Tags: Study sex

Watercolor Eyes @enbesbians (X) Summary: Life felt glum. you didn’t have the confidence in yourself, you wanted to be cool, you wanted to feel desired. you met a girl named Ellie. Warnings: Sad Ending, Angst Specials Tags: None

Satisfied @elliespassagerprincess (X) Summary: You’re needy and relentless, but Ellie needs to study. luckily your smart girlfriend thinks of a perfect way to fix both of your issues with her tongue. Warnings: None Specials Tags: Toxic Relationships, Murder

Christmas shopping @fadedin2u (X) Summary: You go charismas shopping with Ellie and things get heated in the Victoria secret dressing room. Warnings: None Specials Tags: Public Sex

Her Slut @tan1shere (X) Summary: You're eating her out, enjoying every bit of it, it's rough. Maybe you had been bratty towards her. She wouldn't of liked that. Warnings: None Specials Tags: None

Tamer @gold-dustwomxn (X) Summary: Ellie reminds you of your place. Warnings: degradation Specials Tags: BDSM

In my room @nyctophiliq (X) Summary: Didn’t your parents tell you to never leave the doors or windows open? Warnings: Rape, Braking and Entering Special Tag: Dark

Your sister knows best @nyctophiliq (X) Summary: You get a new boyfriend, but Ellie just can’t take the idea of you with someone else. Warnings: Dub-Con, Incest Special Tag: Dark

Dumb (X) Summary: Drug dealer Ellie likes when you play dumb. Warnings: Drug Use Special Tag: None

INVISIBLE STRING THEORY @total-dxmure (X) Summary: After losing your girlfriend due to an accident you feel as though you’ll never find love again- but that was before meeting Ellie Williams Warnings: PTSD, Panic Attacks, Mention of Death. Special Tag: Veteran Au, Muitl-Chapter

Look What You Started. @r3starttt (X) Summary: Ellie is scarily overreactive of you. Warnings: Murder, Bullying Special Tag: College Au, Muitl-Chapter, Dark

single hot lesbians in your area looking to fuck! @destructive-path (X) Summary: You have a online hook up with Ellie Warnings: None Special Tag: Dirty

Birthday Girl @hunnylagoon Summary: Jackson’s resident Baker works herself tirelessly to take care of everyone on their birthday and ensure they get something nice to brighten their special day but who is there to take care of her? Warnings: None Special Tag: Angst

Baby Fever @circe-is-struggling (X) Summary: After seeing the cutest video of a sleepy toddler while on that part of your cycle. Warnings: None Special Tag: Breeding Kink

𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 @leiswxrld (X) Summary: it’s Valentine’s Day, a special day to spend with your loved ones right but what if a slasher is going around killing only once a year on this special day. Warnings: Non con, Drugs, Murder Special Tag: Dark, Dirty

Candy @pascals-doll (X) Summary: You and Ellie have a good Valentines Day Warnings: None Special Tag: Sweet

Tis The Damn Season @whenlostinthedarkness Summary: You swore you'd never end up in Jackson again unless it was a life or death situation, but when that very thing happens, you find yourself back in the place you used to call home before it was tainted by her Warnings: Angst Special Tag: Mutli Chapter

SOMETHING UNEXPECTED @sorrowsblogworld (X) Summary: Life seemed average, a repeated cycle you could never seem to get out of. Bland, overused and average. Warnings: Angst Special Tag: Ft. Dina

Once More Into The Breach @destructive-path Summary: you take a risk and put your life in hands that always seem to find their way around your neck. Warnings: Blood, Injury Special Tag: Dark

Nerd @elslvrsworld (X) Summary: Ellie caught the attention of the head cheerleader, who’s always successful in her endeavors. Warnings: None Special Tag: None

The thought of you @sapphhicslut (X) Summary: she finally spoke to you, after the long awaited 2 weeks of ‘knowing’ you she finally spoke words to you. You just looks to pretty, so she had to make sure you got home safe. So no one could kidnap you or anything, for your own safety. And maybe something else… Warnings: Stalking, Voyeurism Special Tag: Mutil Part, Modern AU

The Girl Time Forgot @hunnylagoon Summary: Ellie is the only time traveller who uses her uncommon gift to rewind time and constantly pester you-the only immortal who made a deal with death in 412 BC and is cursed to walk the earth for all eternity. Forever was promised but you never knew the price Warnings: Death, Murder, Mentions of Suicide, Self-harm, Toxic Relationship, Sickness, Violence, Angst, War, Mentions of Drugs Special Tag: Time Travel AU

lessons in lust @dykeishh (X) Summary: Ellie meets with her hot tutor for calculus and somehow ends with an anatomy lesson! Warnings: None Special Tag: Public Sex

and then what happened? @flowrmoth (X) Summary: Your date last night with another girl got real juicy and ellie couldn't help but ask about it... Warnings: None Special Tag: Mulity Chapter

VIOLETS @tookthe-405 (X) Summary: It's the 1970s, your father is the owner of the local bank and you basically have everything you want. But there is one thing you want, need, but can't have. Ellie, daughter of neighbor farmer Joel Miller, brings you fresh eggs, milk and violets(?) every morning. Warnings: None Special Tag: Farmer Au

I could eat that girl for lunch @closetedlesbean (X) Summary: You were gonna go out with your friend but Ellie was just a little too needy. At least you still went out! With your legs shaky. Warnings: None Special Tag: None

This is my playpen @enchantedlov3r (X) Summary: You and ellie are play fighting but it turns into something different, more intimate... Warnings: None Special Tag: Pet Play

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 @venuzasmuse (X) Summary: The holidays are meant to be festive, free of heartache and solemnity, but odds are forever not in your favor as you spend the holidays with your best friend alongside her sister, that broke your heart. Warnings: None Special Tag: Rock Star Au, Muilty Chapter.

Inked @skywalkerslvt (X) Summary: Ellie gets a stomach tattoo and then fucks you in a public washroom Warnings: None Special Tag: None

Call me when you’re high @xqueen-of-disasterx (X) Summary: When college is stressful again, why not share a blunt with your girl. Warnings: Drug Special Tag: College AU

Hunt @girlrotterr Summary: You were tasked with tracking a female trespasser who has been causing havoc on the WLF, killing numerous soldiers and stealing supplies. It was supposed to be a straightforward surveillance job. You weren't supposed to get caught... Warnings: Cannon Violence Special Tag: None

Dumb Bunny @bambiwrites (X) Summary: Your were to stupid to realize ellie was mean. Warnings: Bullying Special Tag: None

Teachers pet @zebuie (X) Summary: college student develops a small crush on her philosophy teacher—but is it really small? soon, one thing leads to another. as feelings grow, they grow a secret romance. Warnings: Age Gap Special Tag: Teacher AU

Welcome to the Party @lovelettersfromluna (X) Summary: Ellie has been living rent fucking free in my head and I absolutely cannot carry on any longer without writing about her Warnings: Bullying Special Tag: None

baby,noattachment @anchoeritic (X) Summary: together’. a term she always hated. ‘couple’. the thought of being in a relationship didn’t even cross her mind, not as much as it did yours. especially when she was calling you ‘hers’, and her as yours. Warnings: Angst Special Tag: None

Cheerleader @ellieslob (X) Summary: Ellie Likes to watch you in the bedroom. Warnings: Stalker, Voyeurism Special Tag: High School AU

sweet cherry chapstick @anchoeritic (X) Summary: finding yourself in another late night "talk" with ellie, she reminds you of her jealousy and you can't help but counter it. Warnings: Angst Special Tag: None

First Time @les4elliewilliams (X) Summary: Ellie talking reader through her first time having sex and just being really gentle. Warnings: None Special Tag: First time AU

Mermaid @caraphernellie Summary: ellie moves to a lonely coastal town, and finds herself with toes in the sand more often than not nowadays. she ignored the folk tales she'd hear from elderly residents, those about mythical creatures hiding in the sea. until she makes eye contact with something otherworldly one winter afternoon. Warnings: None Special Tag: Mermaid AU

Outlawed Romance @slutt4ellie (X) Summary: It’s 1868 and you’ve ran in with one of your childhood best friends, while rekindling your friendship it starts to become clear that’s not all the two of you are. Warnings: Cheating, Homophobia, Death Special Tag: Wild West

CAM-GIRL! ELLIE @r3starttt (X) Summary: You and Ellie are Cam-Girls. Warnings: None Special Tag: Cam-Girls

insecure @seraphicsentences(X) Summary: chubby!reader feeling insecure and Ellie noticing and worshiping her body like a damn goddess Warnings: None Special Tag: None

Pretty Like a deer @bugbit3ss(X) Summary: You like your boyfriends sister. Warnings: Cheating Special Tag: None

God’s Favorite/Devil’s Choice @cxrdycxps (X) Summary: You are faced with a choice. Warnings: religious trauma, child abuse (emotional and physical, mental illness, physical illness Special Tag: None

𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐀 𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐄, 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐖𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 @navluvr Summary: when you father hires your ex to be his farmhand, you're left with less and less self control as the days pass, always keeping an eye on the auburn-haired girl that had stolen your heart years ago Warnings: None Special Tag: exes to lovers

ellie's breeding strap @mystellenia (X) Summary: ellie tries out the cum filled strap with you for the first time. Warnings: None Special Tag: None

Mafia @savannahsdeath (X) Summary: None Warnings: None Specials Tags: Mafia Au

𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒𝚰𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐃𝚰𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑 @les4elliewilliams (X) Summary: None Warnings: mention of blood/murders, drugs usage Specials Tags: Ghost Face Au

Halloween Heartbeat @thetorturedfagdepartment Summary: None Warnings: None Specials Tags: Halloween Au

you know how I love it when you ride on me @theresascove(X) Summary: Ellie fucks you in the locker room showers while her teammate is chatting to her in a nearby shower Warnings: None Specials Tags: College AU

hunting&f*cking @theresascove (X) Summary: you feel her presence drawing closer. Warnings: None Specials Tags: Pray Au

oh baby, can you hear me moan @girlrotterr (X) Summary: You come home earlier than usual to find your roommates door slightly ajar. You can’t help but peek inside. Warnings: None Specials Tags: Roommate Au

AFLAME @vxsellie (X) Summary: your apartment goes up in flames and you're unlucky enough to have been on the top floor, your front door blocked by fire. thankfully, a certain firefighter finds you before it's too late Warnings: None Specials Tags: Multi Part, Fire Fighter AU

Our blood stains the future and my tortured senses @evherien (X) Summary: After your mental decline and inevitable psychological collapse, Ellie gives you a taste of your new life, and whats more to come. Warnings: Kidnapping Specials Tags: Yandere AU.

Mafia @savannahsdeathAsk (X) Summary: Your ex-girlfriend shows up at your engagement party. Will old habits die hard or the wish of a stable life prevail. Warnings: None Specials Tags: Mafia AU

Yandere @weepingchronicles Summary: reader was a part of an enemy group that maybe kidnapped Ellie but like over the course of like maybe a couple of days they became friends until you know Joel comes to get Ellie out of there Warnings: manipulation, violence, mentions of death, immolation Specials Tags: Yandere Au, ft Joel Miller

SHE’S A MANEATER @les4elliewilliams (X) Summary: After bumping into you on her first day of college, Ellie spends the entire year captivated by you from a distance. You're everything she could never be—popular, wealthy, and effortlessly alluring, with a perfect, disgustingly rich family to match. Convinced she didn’t stand a chance, Ellie resigns herself to watching from the sidelines. But when her best friend Dina suggests they work at a public pool for the summer, Ellie agrees, hoping to save up some money. What she never expected was to find you there, commanding the space with a magnetic, dangerous charm that pulls her in. Now, Ellie’s summer is about to take a turn she never saw coming, and she’s about to find out just how close she can get to you before it all falls apart. Warnings: toxic relationship, controlling partner, manipulation Specials Tags: None

Camgirl Ellie @cheyisagirlkisser (X) Summary: Ellie is a broke college student whose options are either selling weed on campus or doing filthy things on live for her mainly female audience. When another famous camgirl joins one of her lives, she is about to have the collab of a lifetime. Warnings: None Specials Tags: None

rolling 'round the hay @elsgirlkisser (X) Summary: you are the daughter of a wealthy farmer; he has many farmlands but one in particular has caught your eye. despite all of your flirting attempts, she is oblivious, so you bring her up to your room. Warnings: None Specials Tags: Farm AU, Mulit Part

take a hit. @lucidfairies (X) Summary: or the first time, you're interested in sharing a joint with Ellie, and she doesn't let the moment get passed up Warnings: Drug use Special Tag: None

pro hockey player @orchidseason(X) Summary: You’re walking your niece to her figure skating lesson, distracted by her excitement, when you almost bump into Ellie in the hallway. She’s as confident as ever, but the flicker of recognition in her eyes—one that hints at the unspoken history of that night you shared—freezes you both in place. Warnings: None Special Tag: Multi Part

Sativa @avonnimimi (X) Summary: None Warnings: Drug use Special Tag: Multi Part

you're just her property @abbysbug(X) Summary: after ellie watches you cockwarm abby for hours during a meeting, she wants to fuck you, too. Warnings: noncon/dubcon, Special Tag: Mob AU

𝐔𝐍𝐏𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 @baptismbaby (X) Summary: you and ellie are on and off constantly and have been for years. but you can’t stop coming back for more… until finally, you’ve just had enough. Warnings: physical abuse, Toxic Relationships Special Tag: None

#x reader #reading fanfiction #reading list #reading recommendations #fanfic recommendation #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us

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achillesuwu · 2 years ago

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I just found the citation "To become a god is the loneliest achievements of them all" (twofingerswiskey on tumblr) and let me tell you the RAW need I have to see this in a fanfic.

Idc in what form. give it to me.

I NEED Merlin (post canon or in canon, I DON'T CARE) who says that. I need Arthur talking about that powerful sorcerer, the God of the druid. I need him to ask to Merlin what do he thinks about this potential threat. I need merlin to say something like "if it's true he is a god I do not see why we should worry. If he wants to harm us he would already have done so" "Do you believe it?" "What?" "That he is a god" "I don't know, all I know is that to become a god is the loneliest achievements of them all" I NEED MERLIN PRE-REVEAL WHO TALK ABOUT HIS LONELINESS WITH ARTHUR

I need Luo Binghe who can not ascend and become a god like Shen Qingqiu can because he has demon blood. I NEED SHEN QINGQIU WHO GENTLY HOLD HIS HUSBAND CHEEK AND MURMURS "To become a god is the loneliest achievements of them all" (ofc LBH cries but what's new—)

I need dreamling idc who said this, I need Dream who did not tell Hob about who he is that say it. I NEED DREAM IN THE BEACH DREAMS POST WAKE WHO TELL THIS TO HOB. or OR I NEED HOB WHO REFUSE TO BECOME A GOD WHEN DREAM OFFER IT TO HIM

I DON'T EVEN USUALLY SHIP IT BUT Yue Qingyuan who say that to Shen Qingqiu (Shen Jiu) because he knows that SJ's cultivation is too broken to allow him to ascend (I usually ship Liujiu but sadly I don't think LQG would ever say something like that— WAIT A MINUTE : LQG BUT INSTEAD OF DYING IN THE CAVE HE DESTROY HIS CULTIVATION COMPLETELY, THEY AREN'T TOGETHER YET AND THE DAY WHERE THE PEAK LORDS ARE MEAN TO ASCEND LQG IS SITTING AT A TABLE AT A RESTAURANT BUT SJ COME AND BEFORE LQG CAN SAY ANYTHING SJ SAYS "To become a god is the loneliest achievements of them all" AND THAT'S IT)

WHAT ABOUT WANGXIAN!?!?! Immortal Yilling loazu, OR IMMORTAL LWJ IN AN AU WHERE WWX CAME BACK CENTURIES LATER, FOR THOSE WHO ARE "IMMORTALITY IS A SAD THING" ENJOYER : WANGXIAN WHO REFUSE TO BECOME IMMORTAL AND DECIDE TO GROW OLD TOGETHER WITH WEI YING WHO LAUGH AND SAY "To become a god is the loneliest achievements of them all, Lan Zhan, I would rather grow old by your side"

SO MANY POSSIBILITIES

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softie-rain · 8 months ago

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Sejarcus/snowjanus au where the Plinths never left Two. Sejanus grew up the loneliest rich boy in the world, Marcus the only one who'd occasionally speak to him. And then when Marcus got reaped Sej hysterically volunteered to take this punishment in his place. Maybe at that point volunteers weren't even part of games policy, but in the districts it was common to be saved by loved ones volunteering for the whipping post.

If Sej didn't survive, angst at how history will remember him as the first volunteer to honor the games, the glory, etc, when he's just a boy trying to rescue his friend/crush

If he does survive...ooh the jealousy between Marcus and Coriolanus. I just need Sejanus to be fought over the boy deserves it :>

ok first of all never stop sending these thoughts in i am in love with you oh my god

second of all, Sejarcus/Snowjanus love triangle?? Yes sir I'm all here for it. In a scenario where Sejanus survives it would probably go like for Lucy Gray, so Coriolanus would end up Peacekeeper in 2 and oh boy the drama.

The side eyes Marcus would get from Coryo, the probably deaths threats Coryo would get from Marcus. And Sejanus is just there like

🧍 what is all of this attention I'm getting 🧍

and if it's platonic sejarcus Marcus would be all overprotective like, "who are you and why are you trying to manipulate my friend 🤨"

#softie answers #sejarcus #snowjanus #sejanus plinth #coriolanus snow #marcus tbosas #tbosas

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secretdazedeer · 2 months ago

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took me a bit to get here because I kept trying to redraw pages 1 and 2 because I didn't like how all three of them were coming out but here's part... 2? ...3? Of Song of Eternity: Nana.

She may not be canon to the game and is only comic exclusive, but she's canon in my heart :') and she was one of the most important people to Lamb in this AU. Next to, of course, Jalala. And... I have a whole section on this in a document. Because of how similar the two were in Lamb's eyes.

Also her grave is on the cliff that the two always spent time together on prior to everything that happened.

#cult of the lamb #cotl #artists on tumblr #digital art #cotl au #cotl lamb #cotl narinder #cotl nana #Song of Eternity AU #Loneliest God AU #cw sui implied #cw sui mention #I'm tagging both of these just in case #since technically this is what she did to save them

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autisticlancemcclain · 1 year ago

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thank u @zenstrike for the tag <333333333 i see ur mic and i'm elated about it

1. how many works do you have on ao3?

185! but i haven't updated in like a week and a half so we're probably closer to 190

2. what’s your total ao3 word count?

556,104. i am very excited to watch it jump up when i finally finish my longfic teehee

3. what fandoms do you write for?

literally just voltron lol. well not counting baby me's wattpad lol. i started writing almost two years ago and just went ham basically. i've been intentionally avoiding things that i know i will get hyperfixated on bc i don't want to stop my writing obsession lol

4. what are your top five fics by kudos?

ooooou i'm excited to check. i know it's changed quite a bit over time. i usually sort them by hits!

i will grind you to sand (beneath my louboutin heels) [voltron, 2573 words]: bamf lance fic where i give him a revolver and let him go ham basically

mr. snuggles [voltron, 1656 words]: one of my very earliest fics! lance, lover of weirdo animals, finds a demonic cat-sized spider and adopts it despite his friend's freakouts

he might not look like he gets bitches (but honey that dick was eleven inches) [voltron, 1136 words]: this one is so dorky lol but it's just secret relationship klance coming to light in the most embarrassing possible way

does anyone know where the love of god goes (when the waves turn the minutes to hours) [voltron, 4283]: a canon divergence au where lance is a seer and convinces the skeptics on his team of his abilities by ending the war

this is the part of me that you're never gonna ever get away) [voltron, 3262 words]: a lance & shiro hurt/comfort with a small autistic lance character study! i'm very proud of this one

5. do you respond to comments?

i definitely do on tumblr! it's one of the first things i do when i wake up actually. on ao3, though...i'm pretty sure i have about eight hundred unanswered comments sitting in my inbox 💀 it's an ongoing issue

6. what’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

i'm almost sure it's this post-game show lance leaving fic, because i got comments and asks for weeks begging me to write a happy ending lol. but this fic from the hana universe, from when keith is little and shiro is fighting for custody and they haven't figured things out yet. that one is sad. this dream pov adashi fic is also sad and has no happy ending bc, you know. shiro is in space and adam thinks he's dead and everything. my loneliest series is also still in progress and as such there is no happy ending. and this is my earliest angsty-ending fic with MCD

7. what’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

oh god pretty much everything i write has a happy ending?? if i’m being serious?? frankly i don’t do a lot of linear plot. i just write Scenes that are vaguely connected. BUT my h2o fic had a plot that ended happily, as did my cowboy fic, but truly i’m more of a slice of life kinda gal. all my active wips are plot-driven, though, and i plan for all of them to end happily.

8. do you get hate on fics?

oh god yeah. i get it on brown eyed lance, autistic lance, adhd keith, allura just in general (are you sensing a pattern), my refusal to use readmores, and lately just some demands for me to write differently/more?? most of it is just funny so i post it to goof on it lol, but some of it i just delete and pout about until i forget about it 💀

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?

yes and it’s nasty and i will literally never ever post it. although i guess i’ve written some softer stuff that’s more allusion than anything, like in my loneliest series.

10. do you write crossovers? what’s the craziest one you’ve written?

not anymore, but i did when i was a kid?? i think i wrote a pjo/hoo/divergent/the mortal instruments/homestuck/a bunch of other shit fic when i was 13. i’ve successfully blocked that era out of my mind tho so i’m not sure. i do a lot of insane aus, tho. i wrote a fic based off a country song written in the sixties. so.

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

i’ve had people write continuations of my wips?? which i didn’t rly like. i just ignored it.

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

someone has asked me about translating a fic before! haven’t heard anything since tho.

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

i have tried. i’m not very good at it. i have very Specific ideas about things and can be very controlling, so it’s honestly better that i don’t lol.

14. what’s your all-time favorite ship?

klance, easy. been in the trenches of this goddamn fandom since i was 13 years of age. it’s been a Journey.

15. what’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

god, the butterfly effect. i get people asking me to update all the time and i genuinely feel bad, because i have absolutely no ideas or plans for it. i might try to come up with an ending of some kind?? but i wrote that like two years ago, so i have changed a LOT about my writing since then.

16. what are your writing strengths?

dialogue and humour, i think. and sometimes writing lack of emotional communication (if that makes sense — i like to try and write around an emotion).

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

i over explain a lot. and i overuse dialog ur tags sometimes. i have a Very Specific scene playing out in my head and i want everyone else to see it like i’m seeing it, which is my downfall a lot. i’ve been trying to work on implicit stage directions.

18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

i think sometimes it’s necessary? it can be a good tool for humour, like with cussing that can’t be achieved in english. but while i understand and read several languages i have always always struggled to speak or write in them. it’s very frustrating so i often avoid the subject entirely lol.

19. first fandom you wrote for?

i’ve been writing fanfic in my head since before i knew what it was, but i started typing things at around 11 when i used to homestuck roleplay with my friends lol. messy messy times.

20. favorite fic you’ve ever written?

oh i am my own target audience. i have several.

i need a man (who’s patient and kind): keith-centric post canon (divergence) fic where lance takes him to his family and keith is good with kids and just keith being loved is the whole point. always.

what if i lose it all: an alternate universe where lance, as a baby, loses both his parents, and then is raised by his oldest siblings. in luis’ pov.

when does a ripple become a tidal wave (when does the reason become the flame): brogane fight & angst canon divergence post season 6; covering shiro’s guilt complex and keith’s unwavering loyalty

he’s into superstitions (black cats and voodoo dolls): halloween verse with witch lance and vampire keith! i have barely spoken about this au on here but rest assured i’m thinking about it all the fucking time

the applebee’s universe: modern au with young keith and lance learning how to love each other

ceilings (plaster): non-linear dream-like fic that’s just so trippy and strange i’m obsessed with it

if the sky comes falling down (for you) there’s nothing in this world i wouldn’t do: a keith character study about how the biggest bleeding heart in the universe loves

the hana universe: brogane-centric universe as their family starts rocky and grows

thank u again for the tag zen <33 open offer for anyone else who would like to hop on!!

#writer games #?#info #tag game #longpost

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voxofthevoid · 4 months ago

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Writing Log: September and October 2024

Merging the logs because I didn't do a lot of fandoming last month. Well, I did, but it's been pretty scattered. That's not ideal! I work best with a solid but self-imposed routine, but my schedule has been all over the place. September wasn't bad that way, but canon coming to a close wasn't really sparking joy. I'm mostly over that now, I think—just gotta not think about some plot holes and general underwhelming developments (unless it is to forcibly fill those holes—heh).

Anyway, like in August, writing was sporadic and incremental in both September and October. November would have been the same, but the vacation I had planned got cancelled, so it'll likely be business as usual. I don't know if I can finish my current long WIP this month, but I'm hoping to put a bigger dent in it than I managed the last two months.

the mouth of the wolf, the eyes of the lamb [JJK, sukuita and goyuu; Yuuji moves into a small isolated town after his grandpa’s death and acquires a demon fixated on him as well as a demon hunter more interested in him than in the demon]: 47,347

lipstick chemtrails [JJK, goyuu ft. fem!Gojou; Gojou helps herself to her favorite student's mouth, and he helps himself to a hell of a lot more]: 9,584

you were made in the image of god (i was not) [JJK, goyuu; Gojou refuses to rot, and Yuuji refuses to move on]: 9,911

Total:

Sept: 35,285

Oct: 31,557

Adding these in, my total unedited word count for JJK is now 1,113,386.

Meanwhile, the plot bunny list has grown...considerably. The total is now 113, but I might go through the list and axe a couple that don't quite spark joy after how the manga ended.

Canon-divergence AU in which Yuuji never ate the finger at his school and only enters the word of sorcery in October, once the Culling Games begin and the finger sealed in him at birth activates.

Yuuji fixates so hard on Gojou that he ends up time/dream traveling in time to when teen!Gojou was the loneliest.

Postcanon fic in which Sukuna says yes to Yuuji's offer to live with him. Years later, Gojou is reborn.

Sukuna and Yuuji are born sharing a soul—and its immense power. Their entry into Jujutsu High livens things up a little too much.

During Gojou’s and Yuuta’s body-swap training, Yuuji crashes the party, and seeing Yuuta’s expressions on Gojou’s face makes Yuuji lose his mind. It escalates predictably.

Canon-divergence AU where fem!Sukuna incarnated a while ago and is content enough to lounge around like in the Heian with fem!Gojou as entertainment. Fem!Yuuji gets treated to an abundance of cunt.

The fifteen-year-old boy whom Gojou ties to the chair in the isolation chamber isn’t the scarred calamity who wakes up.

The necrofic idea should also be in this list, but since I've already finished it, there's no need.

#writing log #my fic #fic: mouth of the wolf #fic: lipstick chemtrails #fic: the image of god

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shintin · 2 years ago

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Gunpowder Dreams

Chapter 3 (Storm)

↳ Vash the Stampede x Female Reader

They didn't know a wounded man would show no mercy when they took the best thing he ever had away from him. What did they say? Don't poke the dragon if you can't take the heat; if you do, expect the flames.

Genre: explicit smut, toxic relation, romance, angst (Mafia au).

Warnings/Tags: +18, NSFW, Alternative Universe/Modern Setting, no spoilers from manga and anime, dominate Vash the Stampede, sexual situations, dub-con, graphic violence, gore, angst, toxicity, gun-play, manhandling, cunnilingus + fellatio, creampie, fingering, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, too many smut scenes, emotional trauma, and etc.

Song Recommendation: Måneskin - THE LONELIEST

Note: You can find pictures of Vash's household here.

Chapter Index - Next Chapter

Nails scratched the hardwood, and a creak roused you from the deep slumber you'd been wading in for what felt like years. In a cold sweat, you startled awake, disoriented and confused. All you saw was blackness. As it was yesterday, and the days before. The only sound that could be heard belonged to the pounding of your heart and the faint whisper of your breath. With an overwhelming urge to save your sanity, you tried to scream, but the voice got trapped in your throat, and the fear gripped your limbs, making it impossible to move.

You felt like someone was watching you. Oh, Gods! They must be trying to kill you. They must be doing it on purpose. To torture you, to torment you, to keep you from sleeping ever again.

Gradually, you sat up, squinting as you struggled to make out anything in the darkness that had nested around you. The truth was, you had no idea where you were or how you had gotten here. All you remembered was fainting in the fucking dungeon of Knives and waking up in this pitch-black abyss, your hands restrained by cold, metal handcuffs.

Despite the haze of confusion and fear capturing your mind, you had managed to recall fragments of your recent past. You could still remember being tended to by a bald doctor while you were unconscious, his skilled hands repairing the wounds and bruises that marred your body. You could remember your father not discovering your whereabouts and that … you had cried a lot.

Time had lost all meaning in this black hole, leaving you feeling disoriented and alone. But despite the uncertainty, you knew you had to remain strong and find a way out of this nightmare.

The haunting melody of a piano drifted once more through the cold, unyielding walls, its mournful strains reaching you from some unknown location above. You gazed up at the ceiling, captivated by the heart-wrenching yet undeniably soothing notes that flowed from the keys. In this wretched place, you couldn't fathom how anyone could find solace in music.

Despite the bleakness of your surroundings, the music provided a small measure of comfort, a reminder that even in the depths of despair swamp, life could flourish. The pianist's nimble fingers danced across the black and white claviers, conjuring a bittersweet symphony that stirred something deep within your soul.

As you listened, you were transported to a different realm, one where the harsh realities of your current existence faded away. For a brief moment, you allowed yourself to be swept up in the pure, unadulterated emotions, finding solace in your imagination.

The crack of thunder jolted you from your thoughts, reminding you that the world outside might be engulfed in a storm like yours. The bright, yellow ball of the sun might be obscured by thick, gray clouds that carried a sense of forlornness and empty promises of reliving old memories, reclaiming lost dreams, and indulging in comforting breakfasts of fluffy pancakes drenched in maple syrup. Even in a hellhole like this, you couldn't help but reminisce about the time your mother's warm smile could light up a world that seemed lost forever.

Perhaps the day was gloomy and damp, with a piercing wind that would sting the bones of the bastard twins. The temperature could drop to freezing, and hail could pelt down to a hurricane threatening to transform into a tornado just to rip those mother fuckers' bodies apart. It would be amazing if the earth could tremble and split open, creating a gateway for your escape from this oppressive reality.

Deprived of any external sensory input, you could not gauge your surroundings. With no window or view to the outside world, you were trapped in perpetual confinement. The walls seemed to close in on you, leaving you gasping for air as the weight of claustrophobia bore down on your chest. It was clear that hiding from this stifling existence was beyond your reach.

Looking around, you realized no one was in there —at least not the one you could see.

Had you taken up residence in cloud-cuckoo land? Goddammit! You cursed under your breath, frustrated at how your mind had turned into a traitor. Because your deepest fears had crawled out of you with darting eyes, sweating palms, and nervous giggles that sat in your chest, built in your chest, threatened to burst through your chest.

The pressure was mounting relentlessly, squeezing tighter and tighter and tighter around you. Was it a panic attack? No, you could still breathe, and your limbs were still functioning. But you felt paralyzed, unable to find the right words to express the turmoil within you. It was as though all of your pieces had shattered irreparably. Your brain had stopped functioning properly. Nothing would ever be able to glue you back together. The notion of optimism felt like a cruel deception in the face of such overwhelming melancholy.

Slapping your forehead, you reminded yourself that you were alone, but somehow you couldn't shake the sensation of eyes boring into you, leaving your skin tingling as though a searing hot iron was burning a silky dress.

You tried to speak, shaping your lips around the familiar words that felt foreign to your mouth. "W-ho's the-re?" you whispered, struggling to get the words out. Your throat felt parched and unaccustomed to use, making it difficult to form even a simple sentence.

Silence greeted your whispered inquiry, and you turned to the door. Carefully feeling your way towards it, your fingers sought out the tally marks you had etched into the wood to keep track of the days. Twelve marks, a testament to the times they had deigned to slide a bag of cold sandwiches and water bottles through the narrow opening.

How thoughtful of them to keep you from starving to death, even as they left you with nothing more than a filthy toilet in the corner to serve as your bathroom in this unlimited void of darkness. Fuck them! The frustration and anger bubbled up inside you again, directed at the fuckers who held you in this wretched place.

You let out a resigned sigh, realizing that another day had passed. Determined not to let the dizziness overtake you as it had during countless other waking hours, you reached out and scratched a new line onto the cheap surface of the door. The soft wood yielded easily to your touch, marking the passage of time in this godforsaken place.

As if misery could have an end, your stomach started its symphony, a reminder of the hunger that plagued you constantly. Based on your endless sleeping hours, you couldn't shake the suspicion that they were drugging your food, and you knew you could refuse, but what was the point? After all, there was no way you could escape if you were weak from starvation and dehydration. Also, you'd found you didn't mind swallowing whatever poison they might be feeding you. There was no need to keep yourself awake and suffer more.

Another soft creak from the corner of the room caught your attention, and you turned your head toward the disturbance. "Who're you?" you asked, though the words didn't come out any better than the first time. Holding your breath, you strained to hear any response from the darkness.

Several stilted seconds passed before you heard another faint creak, like someone shifting their weight from one foot to another. The sound emanated from where the old and dilapidated wooden floor had been eaten away by bugs, leaving jagged edges that had sliced your bare feet open on more than one occasion.

"What do you want?" you called out, feeling a hand reaching towards your breasts. Before you could react, a jolt of electricity coursed through your body, causing you to fall backward and land painfully on your tailbone. The shock left you gasping for breath and unable to scream for help, too consumed by terror to do anything but kick your feet frantically and scramble toward the wall.

There, you pressed yourself against the rough surface, your chest rising and falling. Welcome to the freak show!

As the pounding in your ears continued, you felt your nails digging into your palms as another low creak echoed through the room. Could they see you now, tucked into the corner of the room? Sucking in a deep breath, you held it, waiting for something to happen. It felt as if your head was shoved into a guillotine, trapped in that heart-stopping moment of anticipation for the blade to drop.

Watching the planks, you waited for the sudden appearance of a frightening demon, bent on its hands and feet and crawling towards you at an unnaturally fast pace. The thought of it would have been amusing under different circumstances, but in this place, you were anything but safe.

The door opened suddenly, flooding the room with bright light and a loud crack of thunder. You flinched, expecting to see the creature staring at you, but found nothing.

A sound slipped free from your throat, a mix of a wheeze and a laugh, as you felt like you were losing your mind. You had to be going insane.

Trying to shield your eyes with your hand, you climbed to your feet, your knees nearly clacking together from your fried nerves. The pain in your body momentarily faded as you thought about how foolish you were to believe someone could be hiding in that corner. However, your smile disappeared as a sobering realization set in.

Right! You were going crazy.

Your loud creaks emphasized each step as you cautiously tiptoed around each corner of the room, the person by the door watching you with widened eyes. You needed to be sure that no one was lurking and watching you like a creep if you ever hoped to sleep again.

Apart from you and the man standing in the doorway, no one else was present. You placed a hand on your chest and let out a choppy, uneven laugh. Making your way back to the bed, you realized that the person was still there, not carrying any food and not appearing to be leaving anytime soon.

You stood frozen, staring at the man in the gray suit with silver hair tied back into a bun, his eyes burning like fiery suns. As you stepped back, even the imaginary monsters in your mind began to retreat, afraid of what might happen next. Fear licked your nerves, and you tipped your head back, taking a deep breath through your nose.

Another man, older than the previous one, suddenly appeared by the door and announced, "The boss wants to see you." His words hit you like a bullet, striking your chest and knocking the breath out of your lungs. It seemed like this was to be your final, glorious end.

The silver-haired man aimed his double Colts at your chest, leaving you petrified and forgotten to inhale. Despite feeling like you should be screaming, you remained frozen like a stone. "HANDS UP, FEET APART, MOUTH SHUT. FOLLOW THE ORDERS, AND I WON'T SHOOT YOU," he commanded.

You heard him, yet you remained still in place. You knew you should move, lift your arms, spread your feet, and remember to breathe, but you were unable to do so.

The one barking orders slammed the butt of his gun into the corner of your brow, causing your knees to buckle and hit the floor. You finally tasted oxygen, along with a metallic tang of blood. An acute agony ripped through your skull, unlike anything you had experienced before. You were utterly immobilized and unable to move.

"What part of 'follow the orders' don't you understand, you filthy Gasback spawn?" The intensity of his animosity was such that he spoke with a venomous tone, as though you were responsible for something awful, despite having no prior acquaintance with him.

You squinted to the side and saw the barrel of the gun mere inches away from your face.

"GET UP."

You were swallowing nothing but strangled gasps, which were choking your body. You were unable to cry out or make any sound.

Get up! Get up! If you don't, he'll shoot you.

You heaved yourself up onto your knees and fell back against the wall behind you, stumbling forward in an attempt to catch your balance. Your head was throbbing like a bitch, making you feel nauseous. Even lifting your hands was unbearable torture. Your body felt lifeless, your bones were cracked, and your skin was a canvas for the sharp pins and needles of pain.

Looked like the boss finally wanted to kill you. That must be why he wanted to see you. Perhaps he had made a mistake by not killing you earlier, or maybe your moment had simply passed. Your years on this earth had been too heavy for this world, and now he was going to end your life. Since the day you opened your eyes here, you had often wondered how it would happen and if it would bring happiness to your father or if your mother would be waiting for you on the other side. The thought of leaving your sister, Amelia, behind made you feel the saddest.

Someone was laughing. "Well, aren't you a little shit?"

You were unsure if they were even speaking to you as you struggled to keep your arms raised. Your mind was hazy, and you could hardly focus on anything.

"She's not even crying," the other one added. "The girls are usually begging for mercy by now."

The walls were starting to blend with the ceiling, and you wondered how much longer you could hold your hands up. You couldn't discern the words spoken or understand the sounds around you.

The blood rushed through your head, and your lips felt like blocks of concrete that you couldn't open. With a gun pressed into your back, you stumbled forward, feeling like the floor was falling upwards. Your feet dragged in a direction that you couldn't comprehend.

"Walk behind me." The other man's voice was thick and deep. Your feet moved forward on their own, and you remained silent, knowing no words could describe this moment. You blinked against the brightness of the light that you hadn't seen in so long, but it didn't matter. You were nothing but numb, a world of nothingness, and a little blinding light wouldn't kill you.

As the guard opened the door at the end of the murky corridor, a chilling draft greeted you, causing you to shiver from the freezing sweat still clinging to your skin and the cold, stale air.

The house's interior was mainly cast in shadows, with only dim light filtering through the large windows. The sunlight had faded away with the storm clouds gathering in the sky. As you looked up, you frowned at the sight of the black ribbed ceiling made up of hundreds of thin, long pieces of wood. Above you, a grand chandelier hung like a tree with multiple branches, its bronze design intricate and adorned with Rhodolite Garnet crystals that dangled from the tips. It was so stunningly beautiful that it almost made you feel sorry it had to get dusted in this slaughterhouse.

The brown walnut floors led directly to the black grand staircase, which was large enough to accommodate a royal black piano sitting sideways. The staircase flew into the living room, and your bare feet squeaked against the parquet floor as the gun barrel urged you further inside.

The open concept of the floor made the house feel like a monstrous entity that could swallow you whole. The living area was located to the left of the staircase, and as you looked around, a sense of loneliness hit you straight in the gut.

In the center of the living room, on the far left wall, was a large black stone fireplace flanked by two sizable mirrors, and leather couches were arranged around it in a square. An ornate wooden dining table sat in the middle of the room, with several unlit white candles atop its dark wooden surface.

The walls were covered in black paisley wallpaper, offset by heavy maroon curtains. The large bay window at the front of the house provided a view of the forest beyond the manor. The parquet flooring extended into the kitchen, which boasted beautiful black-stained cabinets and marble countertops, with a massive island standing in the middle. The kitchen's windows reminded you of a church with its Cathedral glass. It must be heavenly and delightful to cook and hum songs here on a sunny day.

You were walking mindlessly, not knowing where to stop, until a blow to your back crippled you. Your eyes began to tear up as you squinted against the bright lights of the abatjours, illuminating the Persian rug beneath your palms.

"Here she is," someone announced, and a heavy boot pressed into your back. Your outcry of anguish seemed to slow down the world for a moment. The sounds became muffled, the colors blurred, and the floor appeared to be tilting to its side. You thought to yourself that you were actually going to die, that you were going to drop dead then and there.

Then, you saw him, standing in the corner of the big room, watching silently as you writhed in agony while he did nothing. He just stood there and watched, pursing his lips as he ended his phone call.

The thought was so simple when it slipped into your head.

So calm.

So easy.

So, so easy.

You were going to kill him.

Once again, his was shrouded in darkness, but you knew the devil. You had met him personally before. He widened his stance as if getting comfortable, plunging a hand into his pocket and pulling out something you couldn't quite see. As he walked closer, you noticed a glint of silver in his palm as he put it around his neck. A cross? Are you fucking kidding me? You couldn't believe that he was pretending to be a man of faith after all the evil deeds he had committed.

As if he could hear your thoughts, he stopped and hid the cross beneath his shirt. Then he stared at you, and you didn't look away. Later, you would question why the gods made you the way you were, but right now, all you could do was keep your eyes fixed on his chest and allow yourself to register the defined muscles under his shirt. You knew that only a psycho would focus on that right now, and you might be one. The behemoth of a man didn't move an inch. He didn't speak, react, or do anything. He just stared at you, and it felt like a silent battle.

Your whole body began to vibrate from anger and fear, but also from something so disturbing that you refused to put a name to it. He didn't speak, but he did grin—a slow, sinful twist of his lips that sent sparks skittering down your spine. With deliberation, his tongue darted out and licked his bottom lip. Your eyes followed the movement, and the act felt primal, animalistic, and fucking terrifying.

Your heart started to claw its way up your throat, but you swallowed it back down, narrowed your eyes, and opened your mouth to yell at him. Before you could, however, he started approaching you, and you immediately lowered your head.

You were wholly immobilized beneath his stare, unable to move or even think straight. You could only imagine the look on your face when you saw him standing close to you, waiting for you. He sat down on the armchair a few feet away from you, and the boot on your back added more pressure, forcing you to lower your head even further.

Not a single word was spoken. He didn't offer any explanation or even acknowledge your presence. You were kneeling in front of the devil himself, hoping he would retreat and return to whatever portal from hell he crawled out of.

Having nowhere to look, you stared at his dark matte shoes, the dim light offering you enough chance to get a clear view of him. He was fully clothed. No boots today, yet his black pants still wrapped tightly around his broad thighs, and a dark crimson shirt that looked a size too small with the way he filled it out. You couldn't dare to see much of his face.

What the fuck was this? A fancy lamb-sacrificing ceremony?

You began to contemplate if you really had lost your mind and if you were just imagining the whole thing. Indeed, your imagination would never put you in such a scenario, trapped with a lunatic, but maybe it went out of its way and created a hunter licking his lips at you as if he was planning to feast on you.

Oh no, what if he was going to violate you? The thought made dread sink into your stomach like a stone in a lake. Your heart was back in your throat, and you pressed your lips together to hold back the fear that threatened to consume you. The situation was getting more and more terrifying by the second, and you didn't know what to do or how to escape.

His tone was collected, like a blanket thrown over a fire. "Such a delightful scenery," he said, leaning back in his armchair and rolling his neck, the muscles cracking loudly.

Your heart cracked, and your eyes flashed with anger, horror, humiliation, and raw indignation. It was like a fire was raging within you, a wildfire of decimated hopes, and you wanted to crush his spine in your hand. You wanted him to know what it was like to wound, to inflict such unbearable agony on others. You wanted him to feel your pain and understand the depth of your suffering.

"I understand you're mad at Gasback, Livio," he said. "But it wouldn't benefit you if your foot stays there!" His command was superb and strong like steel, dangerously calm and effortlessly assertive. The imprint of the boot was still carved into your back, but it was no longer pressing into your spine. The man called Livio walked a few steps back, and you dared to lift your head and look up at him.

The boss's left arm was covered in tattoos like those on his neck. With his sleeves tatted to his elbows, you could almost see lines of another tattoo on his right elbow. His eyebrows were thick and dark brown, his eyes a deep mountain lake blue. He had blond hair, a beauty mark beneath his left eye, and a lean frame. He was undeniably gorgeous, but, at the same time, dangerous, terrifying, and horrible.

Despite his beauty, his crooked smile was calculated and evil. He sat on what he imagined to be a throne, but was nothing more than an armchair, and his eyes were illuminated with a type of evilness that you would only find in Satan's Bible. It was clear that he took pleasure in your fear and suffering, and the thought made your blood run cold. You knew that you were in the presence of someone truly malevolent and needed to find an egress before it was too late. Because humans didn't need to decorate themselves in gory makeup and fake blood to be scary. It was the darkness that lurked beneath the surface, the evil that they carried within them, that was fucking terrifying.

Unlike you, he looked amused, troubled, interested, and confused all at once. He shook his head, patted his shirt, and reached for the holster around his chest, pulling out a gun with a silver hilt that glinted in the shadowed room. You took a sharp breath, fearing he would use it on you. He inspected the gun in a way you wouldn't understand, presumably to check whether or not it was ready to fire. He slipped it into his hand, his forefinger poised directly over the trigger. But instead of pointing it at you, he placed it on the side table next to the glass of water. He turned and finally read the expression on your face, almost laughing. "Don't worry. It's not for you," he said, holding himself down enough to see your face. "I'm not going to hurt you." He grinned. "Not yet."

You would never believe him, and he must have guessed it because you heard his irritated exhalation of breath. He sighed and rubbed his hand down his face, already growing frustrated. You knew that it wasn't your fault, and if the roles were reversed, he would also be freaking out and questioning his sanity.

His eyes never strayed from you, and he kept them fixed on you as you sat beneath his feet. He ran his hands through his spiked hair, and his shoulders probably started to burn from his hunched-over position. His eyes grew bleary from keeping his gaze on you, and you could see the moment's intensity taking a toll on him too.

A new headache bloomed in your temples, worsening your vision. Several seconds later, he tucked his hand into his pocket and slid out a cigarette from a pack. You saw him flick the lighter, enunciating his impossibly sharp jawline with a cigarette sticking out from his mouth. He puffed on it, and then the flame went out, leaving nothing but his disgusting silhouette before you. You could tell he was a chain smoker. Gross!

He snorted as you looked away and scuttled your eyes. "Princess doesn't like smokers?" he said.

You flinched without intending to, and he looked unexpectedly entertained, which only added to your mortification. So many thoughts were tangling in your head that you couldn't untie the insanity knotting itself together. You didn't know what to do or how to react.

His eyes scanned the map of your structure, and the slow motion made your heart race even faster. You were wearing a thin, dead cotton gown on your limbs, and you caught the rose petals as they fell from your cheeks, floated around the frame of your body, and covered you with something that felt like the absence of courage. The moment's vulnerability made your skin crawl, and you wished you could just disappear.

The tilt of his head cracked gravity in half, and it felt like time was suspended. You blinked and bottled your breaths, unable to tear your eyes away from him. He shifted, and your eyes shattered into thousands of pieces that ricocheted around the room, capturing a million snapshots and moments in time. Flickering images faded with age, frozen thoughts hovering precariously in dead space, a whirlwind of agony that sliced through your soul. His body was erected 6 feet of perfect, well-shaped muscle, and his profile strong and steady. What the fuck?!

One sharp breath and you were shocked back to reality. No more daydreaming!

"Why am I here?" you asked, your gaze trying hard to avoid his perfectly crafted face. The area around you was suffocated, and your hopes were all exhausted. Your eyes were unfocused and aching, and your finger traced a lazy path across the patterned carpet that smelled like smoke, gunpowder, and blood.

He was sitting across from you, his legs folded, and the tip of his shoes was just a few inches away from your face. You could feel his presence looming over you, filling you with nothing but emotions you had never experienced.

"You're afraid of me." His voice had no shape.

Your fingers found their way into a fist, and he laughed, the sound echoing in the dead air between you. You didn't lift your head or meet his eyes; instead, the taste of smoke lingered on your tongue, wasted oxygen, and you gulped it down. Your throat burned with something familiar to you, something you had learned to swallow recently, and you didn't know how much longer you could keep it in there.

"I'm afraid you're wrong, Bugger!" The words escaped your lips before you could think them through, and suddenly someone's gun slammed into your spine. You fell to the carpet with a broken whimper, wheezing into the antique carpet. The pain was excruciating, and you could feel the weight of the situation bearing down on you. You knew you had made a mistake speaking that way, but it was too late to take it back now.

"That wasn't necessary, Livio." His voice was saturated with mock disappointment. "Enough is enough!" A pause. "All. Of. You. Get. Lost. NOW!"

Without an iota of hesitation, you heard the sound of footsteps and the closing of the door. Your heart sank as you realized you were alone with him once again, left to deal with your actions' aftermath. The pain in your spine was still throbbing, and you could feel the anxiety creeping in.

You were past the sickening feeling that stirred in your gut and made you want to vomit—you were seeing red now. The red of his blood, leaking from his throat as you sliced into it. The red flowing from his mouth as he slowly suffocating. You saw so much red. "What do you want from me?" you hissed, clawing your fingers into the carpet, trying to abate the shaking. You didn't know how much more of this you could take and needed answers.

It took him a few seconds to answer you. "Can you please get up and sit on the sofa across from me?" he said, pausing for a moment, presumably to take a long drag out of his cigarette. "My spine gonna hurt from looking down at you."

Fucker cracked his neck, probably enjoying the feeling of his bones popping. Tension was released, and you could see his shoulders relax.

Without protesting or paying attention to the pain that was about to cripple your body, you slowly backed away and sat on the couch, trying to hide as much skin as you could under your loose gown. You knew that you needed to be careful and keep your guard up, but at the same time, you didn't want to provoke him any further. The ache in your spine was blossoming new buds, so you tried to calm yourself down, knowing that you needed to stay focused and alert to survive.

The house was the court of darkness, but you could see the smoke drifting in the still air. His eyes were distant and unfocused, and he seemed lost in his thoughts, a man caught in his own private hell. You remembered how his face was a mask of tragedy and sadness in the dungeon, too, as if he had seen more than his fair share of suffering. It was a sobering thought, making you wonder what had brought him to this point.

He took his final drag and gently put the cigarette in the ashtray beside him. The red embers faded and disappeared among the gray ashes. He raised his head, and his eyes locked with yours briefly. Then, an empty smile bloomed on his lips. One that made it hurt to look at him as if he was hurting and grinning just to bear it.

What the fuck was wrong with you? Why were you looking for traces of humanity in this monster?

You pressed your lips together and turned to look out from the big window. The rain outside had grown stronger, droplets slamming into the window with a ferocity rivaling your heartbeat. The cigarette was gone, yet that smile would stick around your memory forever.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," he said, and you turned your head to see his fingers grazing the revolver on the table, the gun glinting as if to mock you. Any courage you felt dissipated like butter in a hot skillet, and instead, all the fear you'd been feeling tripled. You couldn't help but feel like you were walking on thin ice, and any wrong move could lead to a deadly outcome. But then, to your surprise, he grabbed the glass of water instead of his gun and handed it to you. "Drink slowly," he instructed.

You hesitated momentarily, unsure what to do, but slowly took the glass and sipped the water, feeling the cool liquid soothing your parched throat. Now that your brain had calmed down a little, you noticed how he could probably see the evidence of how cold it was here through your gown. You felt exposed and vulnerable and couldn't help but feel deeply ashamed for being in this situation. You tried to cover yourself up as much as possible, but it was useless.

Noticing where your eyes were trained, he spoke up. "Don't worry about your clothing. I have no interest in your perked-up nipples," he said, loud enough for you to pick up on through the near-constant fear swirling in your bones. Your heart thundered in your ears as you tentatively looked at the glass, inspecting it as if it was a Magic 8 Ball that would reveal a murder plan.

You faced the window again, the beginnings of the storm rattling against the glass. In a few minutes, it'd be a downpour. Thunder would roll and build to a crescendo before a loud crack shook this house's foundation. It would match your mood perfectly.

Suddenly, you realized he was standing before you, his strong perfume tickling your nose. You gulped and kept silent, watching him walk around you. His stare sharpened as he spotted the ugly bruises coloring your neck and collarbones. They were everywhere, and you had a sickening feeling he was going to make it his mission to find every single one. You raised your head, a sharp gasp piercing the still air when he spotted the large gash on the corner of your brow.

"Stupid boy," he muttered, and you wanted to turn your eyes down on his black shoes, but you couldn't look away from his blue eyes, swirling with anger yet an apologetic expression on his face. "Did Livio do this to you?" he asked, his voice low and controlled.

You sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, biting hard as another crack of thunder tore through the atmosphere. With the uncertain consequences of your answer, you chose not to respond to his question.

Two tips of gloved fingers grazed your cloth-covered shoulder for less than a second, and every muscle, every tendon in your body was fraught with tension and tied into knots that clenched your spine. You closed your eyes. You stayed very still. You didn't move. You didn't breathe. You could feel his breath on your neck, and you knew that any sudden move could prove fatal.

"Are you hungry?" His voice was lower now, a little worried.

Your lips trembled as you mistakenly opened your eyes, and you saw him staring at you, studying you. His mouth was barely parted, his hands on his waist, his lashes blinking back confusion. Something punched you in the stomach, and you couldn't help but feel like you were walking on eggshells.

God! His face was unlike anything you'd seen. That was the thing—you had seen him before, in the fucking dungeon, but you were coughing blood back then, and now that you could see his pieces as a whole, he was devastating. Despite the fear and danger you were in, you couldn't help but notice how striking he was. It was like he was carved from marble, and his features were chiseled to perfection.

His eyes. There was something about their droopy shape that was both alluring and intimidating. They were the perfect shade of cobalt, blue like your blossoming bruises, hues that could tell tales of the sky and angels hiding behind the clouds. You couldn't look away from them. You didn't want to. And then you noticed the scar starting from the middle of his chest, slashing straight down through his torso to the middle of his abs. Despite the ugly scar, it only served to heighten his utter beauty. His lips were full, and his sun-kissed blond hair was long enough to run your hands through.

WHAT?!

This was wrong. So wrong. You shouldn't find this beast attractive! But his presence was so overwhelming; it felt as if he was ten feet tall with a shadow crawling up the ceiling, slithering toward you. This giant floor felt tiny with him in it, and you couldn't help but feel small in his presence.

He stepped toward you, a smirk remaining on his face—just the slightest curl in his lips. Your shoulders sagged back. Finally, your instincts weren't completely thrown off, and you made your first smart move.

"Cat got your tongue, love?"

You felt goosebumps as his voice washed over you. The sound was as deep as his ocean eyes. Another swallow nearly caused you to choke on the very muscle. You didn't know what to do, as if your tongue had swelled to double its size.

"What do you want from me?" you choked out. He prowled towards you. Despite the gallons of fear pumping through your heart valves, your spine tightened, and you stayed still. You'd bite him if he got too close.

All thought escaped you as your eyes locked with his. As his thumb brushed your lips, he forced it into your mouth. No shame. No shyness. No, let me buy you a drink before I play with your tongue with my dirty gloved finger. Astonished by his boldness, you nearly slapped yourself.

"I see you still have a tongue, a poisonous one as well."

It took several seconds for your body to unlock. Before you could think about what you were doing, you pressed your teeth together with all your might but met no scream of pain.

Confused, you looked up only to see a satisfaction waving on his facial features. Blood pooled in your mouth, a small trail heading straight towards your chin. A gasp escaped you, your eyes widening and snapping back to his. They were devoid of any hint of pain. Not even a glimmer.

The room was quiet. The static of silence was broken only by your heavy panting. A vortex of his presence slowly drained the oxygen from the room and your brain. Maybe that's why you couldn't think straight with him so close to you. The force of the fear coiled tightly around you, turning your body stone.

You were useless.

Powerless.

The inability to fight raged in your head, your survival instincts told you to spit his finger out, but your body refused. It wasn't until he did it himself that his bloody hand wrapped around your neck and brought your head close to his. You cringed as you felt the essence of his life dripping from his hand. Blood crawled down your spine like menacing fingers, staining your skin as if to mark you. Your horror was heightened when he leaned his forehead against yours and pressed his hand around your throat.

With his bitten thumb pressing against your air hole, he forced your chin up further. Your breath stalled at the slightest curl in his lips. There was something intimidating about the act. Something condemning. "You're a savage one, aren't you?" he murmured, his sinful eyes devouring your face.

A scowl etched onto your face as you placed your hands on his chest, disregarding the unyielding steel beneath his skin, and tried to push him away. However, he defied your effort, resisting the force and curling his lip into a snarl.

Tears rimmed your lids as frustration grew. "Please, just let me go. I-I don't want to be here," you begged, your voice trembling with fear. It felt like someone was reaching into your chest, yanking out your pride, and throwing it onto the floor. But you couldn't afford to give a fuck about it in this situation. All you wanted was to be away from this man.

He leaned closer, his taunting words cutting through the air. "Are you going to cry, love?" he asked, his voice laced with malice. You could feel his heart racing beneath your palms as they remained pressed firmly against his chest, revealing his pulses. Despite his words, you couldn't help but feel that he was not as unaffected as he appeared to be.

"No," you lied, refusing to show him any more weakness. It was none of his business whether or not you were going to cry. Of course, you absolutely had no problems crying your eyes out after he left, but you wouldn't let him see you break down in front of him.

He released his hand with a feral, toothy grin, allowing you to break free. As he stepped back, you experienced a mixture of relief and coldness. However, he promptly grasped your arm and lifted you to your feet. His intense gaze held you in place while his body brushed against your arm, emitting a fragrance of leather, smoke, and something familiar that was utterly mesmerizing. Fear had a distinct flavor: an acidic, burnt metal that numbed your entire being, not just your tongue. Despite feeling extremely frightened, you were inexplicably… drawn to him, consumed by his presence.

You maintained a steady gaze, keeping him within your field of vision. He drew nearer, pressing his body against yours, but you didn't yield. Instead, you seemed to meld into him, resisting his strength and succumbing to his closeness. His warm breath caressed your skin as his lips approached the edge of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

In a hushed tone, he uttered, "I bet crying would suit you." His words caused your lip to quiver, but you quickly bit down on it, determined not to reveal any vulnerability. As you stole a glance at him, you noticed his gaze was fixated on your lips.

"Are you here to kill me?" you asked in a low voice. Despite your efforts to conceal the tremors coursing through your body, you were unsuccessful.

Slowly, he shook his head. "Why would I do that?"

You were not sure how to answer that.

"That would be a waste, love," he replied, his forefinger tracing your collarbone. "Moreover, losing such a pretty face would be a shame. I want to keep you," he added, his words dripping an unsettling possessiveness.

"What if I don't want you to?"

He smiled. "Nobody asked for your opinion."

"You're a maniac," you spat out, attempting to wrench yourself away from his grasp. However, he caught hold of your hip bone and gripped it tightly, causing you to suppress a scream.

"Don't struggle, love. You'll only make things more difficult for yourself."

Despite the anger welling up within you, your voice remained eerily mild as you spoke, "Your poor mother." your words were soaked in venom.

He almost choked, his eyes wide, alarmed. "What did you say?"

Your stomach churned with mixed emotions as you watched the man's expression shift. There was an unguarded strain, flinching terror, and sudden apprehension etched on his features. You were trying to mock him because you felt sorry for his poor mother, who had to deal with such a pathetic son.

He seized your arms roughly; his gaze locked onto yours with a sense of urgency pulsing at his temples. "What did you mean?" he demanded, his tone insistent.

Your temper had gotten the best of you, a new feeling that had arisen since your recent circumstances. Typically, you were not a reactive person, but you could not control the emotions that were now surging through you. "N-nothing," you stammered, your voice breaking in half. "I didn't mean anything by it. I didn't—it was just a—"

He released your arms abruptly, as though they had scorched him, and walked away. You took a tight breath, attempting to compose yourself, but found it difficult to even look at him. You tried to explain yourself, but the words that tumbled out made no sense in the vast room. Your fingers clenched your gown as you thought about how your time here had turned you into a person with a foul mouth and degrading behavior. It was humiliating to disappoint yourself more than anyone else.

You glanced over at him, but he had already folded his arms and turned his face towards the tall windows, to the raindrops streaking down the glass. "I know this must be difficult for you," he spoke, his voice devoid of any empathy. "But, I have no fucks to give." His callous words stung, reminding you again of your captor's cruel and indifferent nature.

You desperately took a deep breath and tried to stifle any words that threatened to escape. He turned towards you, pretending not to notice the red rims around your eyes and your nails digging into your almost bare dress. His gaze carefully avoided your face, and he cocked his head in your direction, although it seemed like he was staring at a spot behind you. "Do you know what your father has done, toy?" he asked, his lips wet as he circled your body before disappearing from view. The question hung in the air, leaving you to wonder what he was getting at and what your father's actions had to do with your current predicament.

His sudden disappearance made you even more nervous, and your mind raced as you tried to anticipate his next move. The uncertainty of the situation was torture in itself, not knowing if or when he would strike. "Don't call me a toy," you snapped, seething with anger as you sensed him standing behind you. Your body was tense, ready to react to any sudden movements.

He circled back to the front, and you felt slightly relieved as your shoulders loosened. "Then why don't you tell me your name, love?" he asked, leaning forward towards you. You froze, unsure how to respond, as the man's proximity was both welcoming and unsettling.

You thawed. "You know my name."

He raised a brow. "When I ask a question, I demand an answer, not bullshits."

You gulped down the lump in your throat and whispered your name. His lips softened into a smile that made your stomach churn. He repeated your name, savoring it as if it amused him, entertained him, and delighted him all at once. In all your years of living, none of your past lovers had ever said your name like that.

"Now answer my question, toy," he pointed out, deliberately using the name. You snarled at his defiance, but didn't reply. "Don't make me ask again," he warned, his voice lowering to convey his seriousness.

"I don't know what you want me to say!" you shouted, frustrated. "Why don't you stop being a pussy and solve your problem with him personally?" The words burst out of you in a fit of anger, fueled by the stress building up inside you.

His laughter filled the room, and you braced for what he might say next. "Bold one, huh?" he chuckled. "I can't wait to break you apart, shatter you into pieces and then arrange those pieces in the most fucked up way possible to suit my taste. And I promise, I won't care if they don't fit. I'll fucking make them. You're too feisty for your own good."

"You can't touch me," you spat through clenched teeth, your voice shaking with fear and anger.

"Wrong," he chanted, his tone mocking and cruel.

"My dad will cut your arm!" you countered, hoping to intimidate him with the threat.

"Oh, really?" he said in a conspiratorial whisper, his words cutting through your bravado. "Then why hasn't he done it? You being here is not a big secret with all the men swirling around this household."

The truth of his words hit you like a ton of bricks, and your skin turned cold with sweat. Your fingers trembled, and your lungs struggled to draw in air as you realized the reality of your situation.

"See, he has left you alone with us to skin you alive and play with your bones till you beg to die," he said calmly.

You couldn't believe that your own father had abandoned you to this fate. Honestly, you couldn't help but wonder why you had been stupid enough to expect him to act differently. The memories flooded your mind, and you closed your eyes in a subconscious effort to block them out. But the effort only backfired as the memories grew more vivid. The fights, the screams, the curses, your sister's cries, the hits, the pain, and you begging your father to stop. The vivid images of the blood. Dead, dead red, burgundy and the richest shade of your mother's favorite lipstick all smeared on the floor. You had deceived yourself into thinking that your father, a man of numbers and benefits, would have any incentive to rescue you.

You waited in silence for him to speak, your mind still reeling from the memories that flooded your consciousness. As he began to speak, you struggled to focus, his words bouncing around in the haze of your head and fogging your senses. A sense of hopelessness and helplessness pricked your thoughts. Nevertheless, you forced yourself to pay attention, knowing that any information he might provide could be crucial to your survival.

"Technical bugs don't allow me to confront your father," he said. "Also, death would be a gift for him, don't you agree?"

You looked at him, tears gathered in the corners of your eyes, and you struggled to maintain your serenity.

"I have a proposition for you."

You managed to lift your head since you weren't sure you heard correctly. "I don't understand," you told him.

He took a deep breath and began to pace the length of the room. "You are kind of a pet project of mine," he said, a self-satisfied grin spreading across his face. You couldn't stand the sight of his smug, arrogant demeanor, and the urge to break that grin off his face was almost overwhelming. He stopped in his tracks and turned to face you. "I want you to help me," he said, his tone insistent.

"What?" A broken whisper of surprise.

"You are in my possession," he said a little impatiently. "Maybe you can put the pieces together."

"I don't—"

"Don't pretend dumb! How about you reveal some of your dad's dirty laundry so I can force him out of his hiding hole?" The following pause was filled with a deafening silence, and you felt like the air had been knocked out of your lungs. "Yet, I would like to give you an option." He offered you a smile that said you should be grateful for the chance he was offering. Someone must be ripping your skin off.

"And if I don't accept?" you asked, catching your voice before it cracked in fear.

He looked genuinely disappointed, and his hands clasped together in dismay. "Did I give you any impression that you have a choice?" he asked, his tone cold and menacing. "If you stand by my side, you'll be rewarded," he continued, his words filled with a sense of threat. He pressed his lips together, and you could feel his eyes boring into you. "But if you choose to disobey? Well...I think your little sister, what was her name? A-m-e-l-i-a, hm? She looks rather lovely with all her body parts intact, right?"

You were breathing so hard that your frame was shaking. "You're threatening me with my sister? What has my father done to you?"

"You'll find out if you manage to survive." He raised a brow.

"And you want me to willingly help you take your revenge?"

His face broke into a brilliant smile. "That would be wonderful." The world was bleeding. You didn't have time to form a response before he started talking again.

"I would never be your rat!" you snapped. "Your men beat me! You keep me here like a slave! You threaten me! You give me no freedom and say you want me to help you hurt my family?" You were about to throw the glass of water at his face. "Why are—"

"Nothing your father hasn't done already to you." His voice was tight, just like his lips, and you were shocked to learn how much he knew about your relationship with your father. "You, if you are insinuating that I am an evil being, I would recommend you take a closer look at your own family," he said the last few syllables with a little too much emphasis, a little too much fire as if it was reminding him of something from his own life.

He spoke the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. You knew it, but the anger you felt was like a living thing, a raging inferno that threatened to consume you. You felt it wrapping around your fingers like you could fling it at his face. You felt it coiling around your spine, planting itself in your stomach and shooting branches down your legs, arms, and neck. It was choking you, suffocating you with its intensity.

You wanted to scream and lash out at this man who seemed to enjoy opening your old wounds. The anger inside you needed release; it needed relief. "You," you told him, and you could hardly spit the words out. "You're not any better than my father! You are a monster!"

A dangerous smirk tugged at his lips when he heard his new nickname. "You do not want to upset me, love." His voice was far too calm to match the storm in his eyes. He turned away, so you were staring at his profile. He changed his mind, clasped his hands, and touched his lips. "You're so ungrateful. I was trying to make your stay pleasant."

"Liar!"

He seemed to be considering that. Nodding, he said, "Yes. Most of the time, yes."

"I don't want to be here. I don't want to be your toy. Let me go!"

He didn't answer right away. His finger played around his tattooed neck. "Don't underestimate me, love. If I wanted to have toys around this house, I would do that," he said, his tone cold and calculating. "Wait! Actually, people would volunteer for me to play with them. I'm very good at it, and certainly, I don't need someone as boring as you to entertain me. Just keep this in your mind," he continued, his words filled with arrogance and entitlement. "I need information, love, and I have my very own ways of taming pretentious brats like you."

You could see how he knew that this hard look was only your front show and that his desires were interested in what you had hidden under your brittle shell. He wanted something you didn't have, but you knew he wouldn't believe it until he broke you and found out.

Feeling sick to the stomach, the thought of being in this man's presence for another moment made you want to kill yourself. So, you started laughing, stopping the tears from falling. "You're disgusting!"

The emotions swirling inside you were like a raging storm, and you felt like you were about to break under the weight of it all. It was like you had been stuffed full of twigs, and all it would take was a single bend to snap you in half. The guilt, anger, frustration, and pent-up aggression inside you needed an outlet, and it was getting out of control.

What were you thinking?

This was all your fault. It was your fault you were here. It was your fault you were in danger. It was your fault this man-whore wanted to use you for his sick purposes, and his brother wanted to perform some new torture rituals on you. FUCK THIS SHIT! If only you had grabbed your sister's hand and walked away from your father years ago, you could have been safe and far away from these psychopaths. But you didn't, and now you were paying the price for your mistakes.

All you could do was try to keep your head above water and hope you wouldn't get drowned.

Because, after all,

It was your fault. It was your fault. It was your fault. It was your fault. It was your fault.

He had been standing by the window for an hour now, his gun back in the holster, looking out at the rain falling softly outside. He had said nothing; his back turned toward you all this time as if you weren't even there.

You tried to control your emotions, holding back tears even though you were overwhelmed by the sadness and grief building up inside you. It felt like you were in the presence of a predator, and the thought of being at his mercy was almost unbearable. You didn't know what he was planning but knew it couldn't be anything good.

You felt completely alone and lost in the emptiness of the giant house, and his presence only made you feel more isolated and disconnected than ever before. You could still feel eyes on you, as if someone was watching your every move, waiting for you to make a mistake.

You glanced at him. He seemed to be patiently waiting for you to gather and get your shits together, but you could tell that his patience would wear thin very soon. He would demand your response to his proposition.

You took a shaky breath and started taking inventory of your new surroundings, trying to distract yourself from the uncertainty that was choking you. The acceptance of your situation was starting to set in, and you couldn't help but feel sorry for yourself.

He walked toward you one hour and forty-five minutes later, waiting until you finally looked up at him. You could still see that lingering glint of delight as if you were a mouse trapped in a cage with a cat, and you knew that it was only a matter of time before he pounced.

He cocked his head for you to follow him.

And you did.

He was walking ahead of you, jerking his head towards the stairs, signaling for you to walk behind him like a well-trained pet. The thought made you want to cry. He was sure with your injured body, you could barely stand upright, let alone attempt a funny business. "Where are you taking me?"

He didn't respond immediately, and you fell in step behind him, feeling the urge to cry deepening as you made your way further into the belly of hell. It felt like a bungee cord was strapped around your waist, pulling you back towards the exit, and the longer you walked, the stronger it became.

He shot a look over his shoulder. "Your room."

Your mouth went dry as you realized that you were heading downward, into a basement. You guessed you shouldn't be surprised because… well, where the fuck else were you expecting him to lock you?

As you descended the stairs, the darkness seemed to swallow you whole, the air becoming musty and damp, the thud of your footsteps on the stairs echoing. You tried to keep your breathing even, but it was a struggle. The weight of the new information had suffocated you.

Through blurred eyes, you clung onto insignificant details. He was leading you to an unfamiliar location through dark, narrow corridors that seemed to grow darker and more oppressive as you walked. Eventually, you found yourself at the base of steep wooden steps that creaked ominously under your weight. Everywhere you looked, there seemed to be secrets hidden behind locked doors and shadowy corners, but no answers to be found.

"Obedience is the number one thing I ask of you. This means you'll be punished if you disobey me or fail to do as I instruct."

You averted your gaze before he could see the emotions churning within you, feeling as if they were spitting out like grease in a hot skillet. Swallowing down the rock in your throat, you choked out, "Yes, Master." You hated yourself for submitting to him in this way, but you had no fight left in you after everything you had gone through. And you knew that it was only the beginning of your ordeal.

He made a sound of aversion. "Never call me that. Reminds me of my brother," he snapped, muttering the last part.

Summoning your courage, you looked up and met his gaze once more. "How would you like me to address you?" you asked, making a conscious effort to keep any hint of anger out of your eyes. Deep down, you knew exactly what the fuck you'd like to call the evil creature, but you held your tongue for the time being.

He trained his narrowed gaze on you, seeming to contemplate something. "Just call me Vash," he responded, though his tone implied that he didn't expect you to comply. "Although judging by the hatred in your eyes, I doubt you'll call me by my name. Will ya?"

Your heart shriveled when you realized he could read you like an open book. You weren't sure why you were surprised, but the knowledge sent a fresh wave of panic coursing through your bloodstream, twisting your gut painfully. The feeling of hopelessness was deepening.

"Yes, I'll do whatever you want me to," you forced out, your body hunching forward under the weight of the intense emotions coursing through you. It felt as if they were powerful enough to disintegrate your spine and send you crumbling to the floor at his feet.

Despite the temporary nature of your compliance, the man appeared pleased with your response.

"As long as you promise to stay away from my sister," you added and stared into his eyes.

He dipped his head, staring at your sad eyes, studying you in an entirely new way. “My promises aren’t worth much, love,” he whispered. “Or have you forgotten?” He ran his hand through his hair. “I’m an exceptional liar.”

Realization slammed into you like pounds of common sense. You shouldn’t be doing this. You shouldn’t be making deals with him. Your fists were balled at your sides, and you were shaking everywhere as he led you through a series of metal doors, each guarded by his henchmen. Their eyes followed you everywhere, appraising you with fear and something else you didn't want to consider. You wanted to rip the carpets and curtains and sew them to your skin.

The men were all armed to the teeth, their guns slung around their necks, while others were strapped to their belts. You couldn't help but feel a sense of dread as you saw the weapons, knowing that any of these men could end your life with a single pull of the trigger.

Yet, they all betrayed a look of terror when they saw their boss's face — a flash of fear that was quickly replaced with a mask of obedience. You could see it in how they gripped their weapons a little tighter as he walked by — they were afraid of him and for good reason.

He was proud of himself. "Their fear will work in your favor," he muttered while walking by your side.

"Why?" You no longer had the energy to think.

He stopped abruptly, his eyes calling you an idiot. He closed the few inches between you, and your words fell on the floor. "You really are naive, aren't you?" he said, his voice harsh and low, the words a grating whisper against your skin. "If they don't fear me, they'll hunt you. Your father is not very popular around here." He backed away from you, his laughter mirthless and chilling. Then, he resumed walking down the hall, but you found yourself rooted to the spot. The realization hit you like a bucket of ice-cold water emptying down your back.

As he noticed that you weren't following him, he stopped, and a strange glimmer appeared in his light eyes. "I am not the one you should be concerned about," he said before walking back towards you until his lips scarcely brushed across your nose while hot breath fanned against your cheek. "Better hope Kni's goons don't come looking for an easy meal," he whispered, adding another fear to your collection.

A pool of emotions constricted your throat, leaving it clogged. Disgust, anger, and terror churned within you, at the thought of men taking advantage of your body while you were injured was sickening. Your stomach twisted in response, and it took all your self-control to hold back vomiting. "You would let that happen?" you whispered, your voice hoarse and strained.

He retreated an inch, observing your expression closely. You stared straight ahead, refusing to meet his soulless eyes. "Why should I stop them?" he asked, pausing for effect as a vicious grin spread across his lips. "You're just a leverage; soon enough, you'll be nothing."

You clung tightly to your composure, but your body shook with the effort of keeping your emotions in check. A tear slipped loose as his gloved hand brushed your jawline. "Stop crying," he ordered quietly. You obeyed, knowing that your survival depended on appeasing him.

"Good girl," he praised. Your rage boiled to the surface, but you bit your tongue. Fuck you.

As he brushed a finger lightly down your spine, leaving a trail of chills in his wake, you couldn't help but feel a sense of revulsion. You were trapped in his clutches.

"Don't worry, love. I'll be taking good care of you when they come sniffing," he murmured, offering a shred of hope you refused to cling to.

You snarled and glared at him through blurred vision. "And you'd be any better?" you hissed, challenging his twisted sense of morality. His values were as opaque as frosted glass.

Slowly, he straightened his spine and shot you a cryptic grin. "I guess there's only one way to find out. You want to try me?" he said before turning and walking away from you. The second the distance between you two grew, several more tears escaped, and once those were set loose, a flood followed. You couldn't bear the thought of staying in this place, of being used as a pawn or a plaything by the man and his associates. Slapping a hand over your mouth, you tried to stifle a sob, but it broke free anyway. You knew that you had to escape, that you would rather die trying than be passed from hand to hand like an object.

So you turned and started running.

You bolted down the hallway, your feet pounding against the cold, hard floor as you ran past the doors. You didn't know what you were doing or where you thought you could go, but all you knew was that you had to get away from this place, from this man and the perverts around him.

Your heart was racing, and your breath came in short gasps as you ran, fueled by adrenaline. You didn't know what lay ahead of you, but you knew it had to be better than what you left behind.

With no clear plan in mind, you pushed yourself to reach the front door, hoping it would provide an escape route. The only thing driving you forward was the hope that you could find a way out and away from the danger that lurked behind you.

His commands echoed off the walls, exploding in your eardrums with a deafening force. He didn't need to chase you. He had his men do the work for him. They were lining up before you, beside you, and behind you, forming a wall that seemed impenetrable, trapping you in this place of terror. You were surrounded, with no apparent outlet.

You couldn't breathe. You were spinning in a circle of your own stupidity, panicked, pained, petrified by the thought of what he was going to do to you against your will.

"Catch her," he said softly. "Don't you dare shoot her!" Silence had stuffed itself into every corner of this house. His voice was the only sound in the room.

One of his men stepped forward. Your eyes were flooding, and you squeezed them shut, then you pried them open and blinked back at the crowd. Every inch of your body was covered in pang. Your bones began to buckle, snapping in synchronicity with the beats of your heart. You crumbled to the floor, folding into yourself like a flimsy crepe. You felt so painfully exposed in this ragged gown.

"Don't—" you held up a tentative hand, pleading with your eyes, staring into the face of the man. "Please don't—" Your voice broke.

You were defenseless, with no protection. The man grabbed your arms, and your body tensed in response. "NO, NO, NO!" you gasped, struggling against his hold. Like a raging river, your blood surged through your veins, with waves of heat lapping against your bones.

A surge of adrenaline rushed through your veins, giving you a burst of energy and strength. Desperate to escape his grasp, you pushed yourself back and kicked his leg, hoping to create enough distance to break free. As he stumbled back, you saw an opportunity to reach for his gun.

You grabbed the weapon with a quick and decisive movement, feeling its weight in your hand. It was a risky move, but you were willing to do whatever it took to defend yourself. You held the gun at arm's length, pointing it at the man before you, hoping it would be enough to make him back off and give you a chance to escape.

Your triumph was short-lived as the man reacted quickly, moving in to tackle you. Your lungs constricted, and a wave of ice-cold cruelty washed over you.

Then everything happened so fast.

A shooting sound.

The man's weight fell on your petite frame, his body collapsing against yours. You struggled to breathe as the air was forced out of your lungs, and the gun slipped from your grasp.

Your screams echoed throughout the room as you tried to see past the sheet of tears that blurred your vision. You were hiccuping, hysterical, horrified by the frozen look on this man's face, his paralyzed lips wheezing gasps through his lungs. You broke free and stumbled backward.

The multitude of armed men behind you parted ways, their faces etched with shock and unfiltered terror.

"Somebody help him!" you screamed. "Somebody help him! He needs a doctor— he needs to be taken—he needs—he—oh—what have I done—"

You heard Vash calling your name.

"DON'T TOUCH ME—DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH ME—"

Vash was trying to comfort you, holding you together and smoothing back your hair. The tears continued to flow down your cheeks, and he was trying to wipe away your tears while you wanted nothing more than to lash out at him, to scream and murder him.

"You need to calm down—"

"HELP HIM!" you cried, falling to your knees, your eyes glued to the figure lying on the floor. The other men were creeping closer. "Please—you have to help him! Please—Vash!" His name rolled over your tongue, and for a second, you saw a flicker of surprise in his eyes.

"Livio, Rollo—TAKE CARE OF THIS!" he shouted to his men before scooping you into his arms. Your skin was cold and clammy with sweat, your fingers trembling with disgust, your heart unable to withstand him.

Despite his strength, you felt a sense of powerlessness and vulnerability in his grasp. You wanted nothing more than to run as far away from him as possible, but your body was weak and trembling, unable to withstand the trauma and terror you had experienced.

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" you cried desperately. Then the pain you had suppressed for so long finally crushed you. You broke, your body cracking from the pain you'd swallowed so many times, heaving with sobs you could no longer suppress, your dignity dissolving in your tears, the agony of the past weeks ripping your skin to shreds.

You cried out all the pain and fear you had been holding inside, the emotions ripping through you like the storm outside. You felt like you were being torn apart, piece by piece, as the memories of what had happened to you flooded back.

You couldn't even breathe. You couldn't catch the oxygen around you. You couldn't see or hear anything anymore, leaving you unable to perceive the world around you clearly. Your thoughts were scattered and jumbled, and you couldn't even be sure if you were still fully conscious. You wondered if you had finally lost your mind.

In the midst of this confusion, you found yourself lifted off the ground, feeling weightless. The world spun around you in a dizzying blur, making it difficult to keep your bearings. You were lost in a fog of uncertainty, unsure of what was happening to you or where you would end up.

You were a bag of feathers, a fragile crystal in his arms. Despite everything that had happened, his embrace felt warm and safe. You shouldn't want this so much. For now, you wanted to forget that you were supposed to hate him, that he kidnapped you, that he was here just because he wanted to use you against your father. But at the minute, you wanted nothing more than to forget all and just be held and comforted.

Your face was buried in the soft material of his shirt, and your cheek was pressed against the cross dangling on his chest. You had felt this before, but when you breathed in his scent, you smelled your mom's pancakes, joyful peals of laughter, and happy Sundays. The nostalgia of simpler times.

You tried to push those thoughts aside, focusing instead on the warmth of his embrace and the sense of comfort that he provided. You didn't want him ever to let go of your body, but then the reality slapped you in the face, mortification muddled your brain, desperate humiliation clouded your judgment, red painted your face, and bled through your skin.

You clutched at his shirt, not letting go of the cross, your voice trembling as you spoke. "You can kill me," you told him, your fear and desperation evident in your words. "You have a gun!"

You tried to wriggle out of his grip, but he tightened his hold around your body, his face still stoic and impassive. However, you could see a sudden strain in his jaw and an unmistakable tension in his arms, indicating that your words had struck a nerve.

Despite your fear, a fiery sense of defiance rose within you. "Just kill me!" you pleaded. "My father—he—he doesn't care about me." you were numb, powerless all over again. "Please—"

The world went black before you could say anything else, and you felt yourself slipping into unconsciousness. The last thing you remembered was the sound of his voice, telling you something cold and emotionless.

This monster had no heart. Your father had eaten it.

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