#So like your completely allowed to not have to be in constant pain + actually do things to help instead of the opposite

[saintobio]

sincerely yours. (12)

↳ 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. depression, mentions of cheating, trauma, implied suicide attempt, toxic relationships, illnesses

notes. 11k wc. finally. i wrote this with only one eye open so please don't mind the inconsistencies, i'm trying my best to tie any loose ends before we reach the ending. if the writing feels rushed, it’s bcos i’m just ready to wrap up this series 😭

series masterlist -> episode thirteen

You thought everything that had happened last night was just a dream. 

Because you had gotten used to the constant disappointments and vicissitudes of your life, sharing such domestic bliss with the person you loved had started to feel far-fetched for you. It had become an unachievable fantasy, a colorful delusion created by your mind to conceal the actual darkness of pain that surrounded it. 

But as you opened your eyes that morning, the familiar warmth of a sleeping Satoru’s embrace was the reality you never saw coming. The steady rise and fall of his chest, the comfort of his arms around you, it all felt surreal—like a fragile dream teetering on the edge of shattering. You wondered if it would be okay to stay here for now. To forget about the rest of the damn world and remain in his arms, staring at his beautiful saintly face, listening to his slow and steady heartbeat.

When Satoru stirred from his sleep, you knew your daydream was over. But he was pulling you dangerously close with arms wrapped around your frame and his lips pressed against your forehead. He was only half-awake, it seemed. His long white lashes reminded you of Sachiro’s as you watched him mumble incoherent words from his sleep, something along the lines of, ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘Akemi’. 

That was your cue to pull yourself away from him. With guilt now coursing through your body, you sat up from bed and covered your naked body with the duvet. Akemi. You had completely abandoned the thought of Akemi last night, and now you were here in bed with ‘supposedly’ her man. As much as your heart was in bliss from last night’s events, the dark and cold reality was that you slept with a man who wasn’t yours. It was a principle you told yourself you would never cross, but everything concerning Satoru Gojou seemed to be bringing you to that. 

“Satoru, hey.” Your voice almost came out as a plea as you shook his arm, your guilt eating at you with every minute that passed. “Wake up.” 

His eyelashes fluttered as he struggled to open his eyes, blinded by the sunlight that gleamed through the window as he stretched his arms and looked at you. “Y/N?” he softly whispered, a hand tenderly placed on your back as he scooted closer. “What’s wrong?” 

Slight disbelief blanketed your gaze. “You think this isn’t wrong?” 

Satoru let out a sigh of exasperation, pulling his head back, and covering his eyes with a hand as if last night’s events played through his mind scene to scene. He was obviously caught in a mindwreck thinking about the girl he had just cheated on. “It shouldn’t be,” he mumbled, “But it feels like it.”

“So you do regret it,” you laughed at your own words, internally in pain. 

“I didn’t say that.” He finally pulled himself back up, sitting as he pulled you towards him. “Y/N, if we really thought last night was wrong, we would have stopped after the first time.” He shook his head at the irony. “Look, it’s on me, alright? I put you in this situation.” 

“And I allowed it,” you argued, “I allowed it, Satoru. It makes me feel dirty. I feel like, like I’m wrecking someone else’s home. It’s not me.” 

Satoru held his breath, a look of hesitation dawning on his face as he realized that this wasn’t just a dream of his. It was pure and raw reality that he had made a mistake that he could never undo. While thinking it through, he rubbed his eyes and sat up, leaning against the headboard as he assessed the situation. Then, he looked at you, his expression softening as he spoke, “No, not your fault. It’s just complicated,” he insisted, “You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m the one who owes ‘Kemi an apology.” 

Each time you heard her nickname from him was a punch to your gut. And each silent cuss that left his lips was an arrow to your heart. So you put it on yourself to accept his reaction. “It’s okay. You can be honest and say last night was a mistake.”

“No, no, no. I didn’t say that,” he replied quickly, reaching out to take your hand. 

But you already stood up from the bed, clutching the duvet around your body like a shield against the encroaching chill. Your throat felt tight, and tears threatened to spill, but you fought to keep them at bay. Satoru’s gaze followed you with an expression of helplessness, as if he was struggling to bridge the gap between his rights and wrongs.

As you turned to face him, a knot of frustration and heartache tangled within you. “So, what now?” you asked, trying your hardest to keep your composure. “How are we gonna fix this, Satoru? How?”

Before he could answer, the door to the cabin suddenly burst open, and Akemi stood in the doorway with her eyes wide with shock and fury. The confrontation followed as soon as she caught you in a compromising position with Satoru, and the words she uttered next were ones you least expected from her. 

“You’re a hypocrite! You’ve become the person you despised the most when you were married.” 

“You’re no better than Sera! And that’s why you’re miserable, and you’ll forever be miserable! If this is your way of getting back at me..” 

“Then jokes on you, because Satoru will never be faithful to you. He’ll keep cheating on you, just like he did now with me! You two belong in that cycle!”

You felt like an outsider in your own heartbreak, the confrontation intensifying as you tried to process the bitter truth in silence. All you could do was stand there and cry. Even Satoru’s attempts to placate Akemi were futile as her anger only seemed to grow. The more her eyes danced back and forth between you and her lover, the more she wanted to destroy everything in her path.

Satoru’s face was indiscernible from where you stood. “Akemi, please, just listen—”

Akemi, however, was already turning on her heel and storming back into her cabin while eliciting loud, muffled sobs. Your chest tightened with sorrow and shame. Complete, utter shame of doing this to another woman. How could you even correct a situation like this? How could you pick yourself back up after you just trampled on another woman’s feelings because of your actions?

Satoru, like you, hesitated on his next move, his eyes meeting yours with a look of anguish. “I need to talk to her, Y/N. I’ll be back.”

Without waiting for your response, he already bolted after her, leaving you alone in a quiet, pathetic state. The door slammed behind him, the sound reverberating through the cabin like thunder in a heavy storm.

You didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to face everyone, didn’t have the guts to even talk to Shoko and Suguru who now both have to deal with such scandals. You were too ashamed of yourself, as if your femininity had been stripped off its rights after you slept with the man you swore you would never get back with. 

“I didn’t mean it,” you could only silently whisper your laments, pacing around your cabin while swallowing the weakness that tried to escape. “I hate this.” 

The minutes dragged on, and each second stretched into an eternity as you waited for Satoru’s return. For now, you sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, wondering what excuse he was telling Akemi, and what actions he would do to try and calm her down. Did he kiss her, perhaps? Did he cup her face and tell her that you were nothing but a mistake? What was taking him so long? Or were they doing things to try and erase the same deeds you two did last night? 

The cacophony of voices and commotion from outside the cabin grew louder, and your curiosity led you to open your door, meeting the eyes of one of the hotel staff who sent you a look full of judgment. 

“Where’s…” you hesitated if she was the right person to ask, “Where’s Satoru? Would you know?” 

“Oh, ma’am. He already left the hotel half an hour ago… with Miss Akemi.” 

Her answer hit you hard like a truck on a highway. And your heart dropped as you realized who became The Fool in these deck of cards. Satoru had not only run off after Akemi, but had also left you behind without a word. 

The room felt colder now, the once-intimate sanctuary you shared with your ex-husband now a prison of your own grief. Even the familiar warmth of the bed seemed like a distant memory as you approached it, your body trembling as you thought of how you were treated like a dirty rag, thrown away after being used over and over again. 

With a soft, choked sob, you collapsed onto the bed, the duvet still a tangled mess from earlier. And your emotions, so tightly restrained, finally broke free. You pulled the blanket around you as if it could shield you from the crushing pain. The betrayal, the sense of being discarded for another—it all converged into a torrent of anguish. All you could do was cling to the duvet as if it were the only anchor in a stormy sea. 

——

Returning home didn’t make the situation any better. 

Although you tried to tell yourself that you shouldn’t be waiting on Satoru to contact you, you still found yourself checking your phone multiple times a day. Each second that passed without hearing from him was another stab to your heart. But it shouldn’t feel like that. It shouldn’t, not when Satoru clearly made his choice of choosing yet another woman over you. 

Of course, you knew what you did was wrong. In everyone’s eyes, sleeping with someone else’s man was unforgivable. There was no excuse, no way to justify your actions. Even if some people might side with you, saying you owed no one loyalty, it didn’t change how you felt about the whole situation. And that was because you remembered all too well the pain of being cheated on, and letting another woman endure the same heartbreak and betrayal was a weight on your conscience that you couldn’t ignore.

Sighing, you turned to the left side of the bed and saw Sachiro sleeping peacefully, clutching his favorite starfish plushie in his tiny arms. The thought of losing your son was unbearable, especially when he was your only source of calm amid the chaos that surrounded you. Caring for him was your solace, and his innocent presence served as a band-aid for your wounded heart. The most heart-wrenching part of this was knowing you couldn’t even repay him for the stability he brought you. Sachiro deserved a complete family to enrich his life, yet you—as his own biological mother—were unable to give him that. 

“Sleep tight, Sachi.” You lightly stroked his white hair before planting a soft kiss on his cheek. “Don’t let the bed bugs bite.”

The past few weeks had been a blur of emotions, work, and parenting—with each day blending into the next like a tornado of dull colors. You still hadn’t heard from Satoru, but the days of waiting and checking your phone for any notification from him did gradually stop. The only thing that didn’t stop replaying in your head like a broken record was the cabin incident, the very night that drew all these overthinking in your mind and in your heart. 

Returning to work did provide some distraction, but it didn’t take away the sting. It also didn’t help that your staff noticed the change in your demeanor, and how distracted you often were during your meetings and warehouse visits. Even Nobara was worried about how absentminded you had become, but you brushed off all their concerns with a forced smile. After all, staying at home would do you worse than being at work. 

Now, you were back in your office, and the soft knock on the door cut you off from your trance. It was Yuki peeking through the small opening on your door, her usual professional demeanor softened by a concerned expression. “Hey, Y/N. Do you have a minute?” she asked, stepping inside and closing the door behind her with a quiet click. 

You nodded, trying to muster a smile. “Sure, Yuki. What’s up?”

“I wanted to check in on you,” she began, taking a seat opposite your desk, “If you need to extend your vacation, please, by all means, go ahead. It’s off-season, anyway. I’ll take care of everything here while you’re focusing on yourself.”

That wasn’t really a good idea. And you shouldn’t be slacking off work when this very fashion house you establish used to be your passion, not your job. Yet here you were, losing all the inspiration to even run a business. “I don’t know if I have the energy for anything else right now.”

“Well, if you’re too worried about leaving work,” Yuki continued, her tone shifting to a more business-like note, “the progress we’ve made with Hearte is looking really promising. The new collection is getting great feedback, and our upcoming showcase is shaping up well. We’re on track for a strong quarter.”

“All because of you, Yuki.” A spark of gratitude appeared on your face. “Thanks for the update. It’s good to know things are moving in the right direction.”

She then stood up and gave you a reassuring smile. “I’m here if you need anything, Y/N. But seriously, take some time for yourself. You deserve it.”

On that same evening, you came home to your father’s mansion, and the first thing that greeted you when you entered the foyer was Gen sitting by the living room. And needless to say, her expression was a mix of concern and frustration as if she had been waiting for you to return. You weren’t really in the mood to have some back-and-forths with her, but you also didn’t like how she dropped her phone on the table and crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing at you like she was a mother who could scold you like a child.

“I’m not even gonna say anything at this point, but did you really do it with him?” Gen’s voice was low, but the disappointment was palpable. You could feel it from a few meters away. 

“What are you talking about?” you bit back, your already-terrible mood swings shifting into an unhealthy direction. 

Gen responded by pointing at her phone, gesturing for you to take a look at whatever’s on it. Reluctantly, you grabbed the device, and as you were scrolling through the screen, you stumbled upon a blind item circulating on social media. The words were vague but pointed, hinting at a scandalous encounter between two ex-spouses, both of whom were well-known figures. Great. Your heart stopped as you realized that the article was very much about you and Gojou. 

The online comments were brutal, not like you weren’t used to anonymous harassment anyway, but these ones were full of speculating and judging without knowing the full story. Everyone also seemed to be siding with “Ms. A” instead of you as though the person behind the article was clearly trying to paint you as the villain. It was written for the purpose of destroying your reputation rather than any regular exposé, and whoever wrote it was definitely someone who disliked you. 

Your shoulders slumped as you scrolled through hate comment after hate comment, a seemingly endless vitriol for someone they didn’t even know, and avoided your sister’s gaze knowing full well that seeing her expression would only make you feel worse. 

“Is it true?” your sister asked like there was even an ounce of chance that it was simply a rumor. Unfortunately, it was anything but. 

Sliding her phone back on the coffee table, you drew in a deep breath. “I can’t undo it, Gen. It happened.” 

“So, you did sleep with him? Am I hearing this right?” Gen sighed, rubbing her temples. “Do you have any idea what this could do to you? To Sachiro? People are ruthless, and now this blind item is all over the place and they’re targeting you like a punching bag!”

Your mouth felt heavy, as if it was weighed down by an invisible burden, making it difficult to form words or speak. And before you could think of a response, Ian became your temporary savior as he walked in with a calm but serious mien. “I’ve seen the post,” he said, holding up his phone. “It’s clearly defamatory, and we can take legal action. I’ll handle it.”

Even though Ian was a man of remarkable phlegm, you remained abashed, knowing that everyone’s feasting at the juicy rumor that you slept with your ex-husband. Yet, the only thing you could do was to put on a front. To save face. To act like someone you’re not. “Thank you, Ian. I’d appreciate that.”

Anticipating another lecture from Gen about Satoru, you began retreating to your room with your footsteps bouncing desperately on the grand staircase. This conversation was done. You just weren’t there to hear it anymore. However, as you climbed the stairs with a vacant mind, you could still hear your sister calling out to you.

“Y/N!” she called, her voice now tinged with concern. “I’m not going to give you a hard time. We can sort this issue out. Maturely.”

“I’m good.” Sorry, Gen. It was the anxious-avoidant side of you speaking. You didn’t want to discuss such a sensitive situation to anyone, even with your sister, because you weren’t ready to face all the negativity it would put you through. You were already dealing with enough, and going through yet another emotional turmoil might actually put you to your deathbed at this point. 

So, for now, isolating yourself from the world was the best choice. 

And as soon as you entered your room, you saw Sachiro’s nanny tucking him into bed. All your worries and self-destructive thoughts vanished in an instant the moment you looked at your son. It was like the heavens gave you your personal angel, a cute little cherub who brought nothing but light and happiness to your life. He was your sunshine, your shooting star, your bundle of joy. Nothing in this world could erase the pessimist in you than little Sachiro. 

“I got it from here.” You thanked the nanny and asked her to close the door before quickly joining your son in bed, wrapping him in a warm, comforting hug—more for your own comfort than his.

“Mama?” he asked, his voice unusually raspy, and his chest rising and falling heavily. “I mwiss you, mama!”

You pressed your lips onto his forehead. “I miss you too, my baby. How was daycare today?”

He seemed to struggle to speak too, but Sachiro still did his best to recount his day while he was trying to catch air in between his sentences. “Teacher ask Sachi to go home, mama. Sachi is tired.”

“Baby, are you okay? Are you sick?” Now, your motherly instincts kicked in immediately. You could tell something was wrong, so you reached for a thermometer from the bedside drawer to check his temperature, and listened to his breathing at the same time. “What happened to Sachi? Do you want Mommy to take you to the hospital?”

Sachiro shook his head and gave you a sleepy smile. “No, mama. Sachi is just sweepy.”

When the thermometer beeped, you were relieved to see that his temperature was normal. “Are you having trouble breathing, my sweetheart?” You looked into his droopy eyes and gently placed your hand on his chest. 

Once again, Sachiro shook his head. Maybe you were just overthinking. He often ran around the house or played in the bathtub before bed, which could explain why he seemed out of breath. It wasn’t the first time it happened. 

“Okay, Sachi. Go to sleep now. Close your eyes, baby.”

“Night night, mama.”

For now, you turned off the night lamp, and headed to the bathroom in silent and careful steps. It was quiet enough indeed, but in your head was an awful noise you couldn’t escape. And stepping into the shower only increased the warfare in your mind, as it immediately brought images of Satoru and Akemi back in the cabin, the harsh comments from the article, and the lack of contact from your ex-husband which all overwhelmed you at once. By now, he would have already seen that article. Nanami or Miwa might have already alerted him about it. But the fact that he said nothing, the fact that he let the public scrutinize you, destroy you with such vile, hurtful words behind their screens brought you a kind of pain that you wouldn’t wish upon anyone else. 

Because if it was Akemi in that position, he would have defended her in a heartbeat. 

So in your silence, under the cascading water of the shower, you let the tears flow—its warmth distinguishable compared to the cold droplets falling on you. If only you had successfully drowned yourself that night at the lake. If only Satoru didn’t pull you back in, none of this would have happened. 

That moment was deeply poignant to you, and you saw him in a new light you thought you would never see again because of the darkness of your past. Yet, with the events that followed your special moment, memories eventually turned into spite. Your sweet exchange twisted into something bitter. Looking back at that time when he kissed you at the lake now made you feel nauseous and hollow inside, with bile forming on your throat and threatening to be retched. 

The most gut-wrenching part about this was the fact that there wasn’t anyone left who could rescue you from this abyss of heartache anymore. 

——

There had been a sense of detachment in your emotions in the following days that passed, almost as though they belonged to a stranger inhabiting your body. Toji, the only person who comforted you at times like these, was no longer by your side to fulfill the warmth you once desperately sought, and now you were alone to face this cruel, mind-numbing battle all by yourself. It was you against the world. You against the entire populace inhabiting this living hell. And with that many enemies against one, how could you win? 

It was quite funny, actually, that your humor took a surprising turn when you thought of how Sera must have felt when it was revealed to the public that she was Satoru’s mistress. The irony didn’t even stop at your thoughts alone, it manifested itself outside Hearte’s headquarters, wearing a pink puffer jacket and a white prairie skirt. 

“Sera?” you blurted out her name in wonder, nonplussed as you got out of the car to approach her.

“Hey, Y/N.” She offered a casual smile while carrying an air of sophistication around her. That wasn’t the only thing that changed about Sera. Her hair was also shorter than the last you saw her, her face now sporting a more natural makeup, and her outfit a more modest yet classy choice. It was no longer the Sera who tried hard to fit in amongst the upper echelon of society, but a Sera who seemed to be satisfied at her current standing in life. 

What an awkward encounter. Was her presence your hypocritical reminder for sleeping with Satoru behind Akemi’s back? 

“What are you doing here?” you asked. 

And she answered with, “I read about what happened. You know, the thing on the internet.” She took a moment to pause, probably trying to choose the right words to say to her previous adversary. Because in a way, you two weren’t exactly friends. And you were no longer rivals either. Satoru was the only common denominator here, and Sera proved her exact sentiments about him by saying, “I just wanted to let you know that I understand your side. It’s a tough situation.”

You looked at her, searching for any hint of insincerity, but found none. “You were once on my spot,” you pointed out and gauged whether or not she would take the bait. For all you know, she could be putting on an act. “I’m assuming you’re here to rub it in my face how much of a hypocrite I am.” 

“No, that’s not it.” Sera was vehemently denying any malice on her intentions, and was instead trying to show you the sympathy of a woman who was once caught in the same predicament. “Look, I know it’s weird that I’m here out of all people. But the truth is, I just had to let you know that someone’s on your side. I’ve met the girl, okay? That… whoever she is. I don’t remember her name, and I hate having to pit two women against each other, but I’m telling you it’s about time you cut Satoru off your life. Completely. She doesn’t look like someone who’d easily let go. You’re just gonna suffer, Y/N.” 

Perhaps three years was too far back in your life and that tables could turn in a direction that you didn’t expect, as you could recall fragments of memories from when your only dilemma was dealing with Satoru and Sera in your marriage. She used to be besotted with your ex-husband back then. But now, it wasn’t until you heard the way she spoke about him that you realized she must be harboring a grudge deeper than you had imagined. After all, he did ruin her life in ways you couldn’t imagine. And her advice, though unsolicited, made sense. Because you could understand where she was going with it. You could see the true intentions clearly conveyed by her face.

The only problem here was that you didn’t have it in your heart to agree with her. You were too much of an empathic person to be taking sides, even if the supposed villain in this painting was the ex-husband who, time and time again, hurt you. Your heart stubbornly cared for Satoru deep down, and your wifely instinct of defending him no matter how poorly he acted had always been there. No one could hate Satoru more than you did, that was true, but you also weren’t very accepting of hearing others describe him as this ruthless, cheating bastard. 

That was the reason why talking to Gen had eventually exhausted you. Because no one knew the real Satoru Gojou behind his facade of an irresponsible and reckless husband. 

“Now that you’re here…” The idea to redirect the conversation to another topic struck you, unwilling to engage in a conversation that pushed Satoru in a bad light. “Would you be interested in being a model for our upcoming campaign? We’re launching a new collection, and I think you’d be perfect.”

Sera’s eyes were an amalgam of confusion and surprise. “Uh, I mean… I’d love to, but why so sudden?” 

“You have the face for it.” You shrugged, but still sent a smile her way. “Are you working right now? If not, this could open doors for you to be discovered by modeling agencies. I’m closely tied with them since I work in the fashion industry, so I can do a few calls if you want.” 

“Hold on, I’m—” Sera touched her head, laughing as if she were dreaming this conversation. “Y/N, you’re doing too much here. I mean, I’d obviously love that, but wouldn’t it be awkward? People know me as your ex-husband’s mistress, and if they recognize me in Hearte ads, I’m sure as hell those fuck ass netizens won’t stop talking about it.”

She had a point, a very good point, but then again, your suggestion was only brought up because you had to change the topic. “Well, it’s just an offer to consider in the future.” 

“And I appreciate you always extending a hand to help me even if I did you wrong in the past,” she said, feelings of shame lacing her voice. “I haven’t forgotten about what you did for my brother, that’s why I’m here. I’m not your enemy anymore, Y/N.”

Just then, the roaring engine of a classic red Ferrari pulled up to the curb, interrupting the unexpected conversation you were having with your ex-husband’s former mistress. The window rolled down to reveal a pink-haired man whom you recognized as Ryomen Sukuna, an up and coming tech mogul, that Toji had mentioned about many times before. His eyes were only on one woman alone, and it wasn’t you. “Ready to go, babe?”

Honestly, good for Sera. No wonder her aura had become different. They seemed to be in a stable committed relationship, something that you could only ever dream about. If karma was truly real, this was the perfect example for it. 

In the back seat, you spotted a younger boy who looked exactly like Sukuna and, surprisingly, Megumi, the son of your ex-fiancé. Really? How many more people were you going to ‘coincidentally’ run into today? 

“Hello, miss!” the other boy called out cheerfully, while Megumi offered a polite nod. You replied with a wave, feeling a small sense of normalcy in their innocent presence.

“I gotta get going, Y/N,” excused Sera, gesturing a civil goodbye. 

But as she moved to get into the car, your phone buzzed in your pocket. A single glance at the screen made your heart drop. It was a call from the hospital.

“Hello?” you answered almost immediately, pressing the phone on your ears with a tight push.

“Ms. Y/N, this is the hospital. Your son, Sachiro Gojou, is in the ICU. We need you to come as soon as possible.”

Your stomach contracted into a tight ball as you stood rigid with terror. Then and there, the world seemed to tilt on its axis. “Wh-What do you mean he’s in the hospital?!” you managed to shout, swept by horripilation from the sudden news. “What happened to my son?! What’s—!” 

Sera’s concerned gaze met yours as you desperately yelled into the phone, hyperventilating. Your trembling hand was threatening to drop the phone. “Y/N, is everything okay?”

“My son… I… he…,” you stammered, your voice shaky with fear and urgency. Your muscles locked in a momentary paralysis, eyes wide with astonishment, and surprise rendering you immobile. The thought of Sachiro in a critical state was about to make you faint, with the last bits of images you saw that afternoon were of Sera and her boyfriend rushing to catch you from completely falling to the ground. 

——

Megumi didn’t know how to deliver the bad news. 

He came home after Yuuji’s brother rushed you to the hospital, shocked by everything that happened in a span of a single day. His mind was aching from all the thinking he was doing; praying that little Sachiro will be fine, hoping that you would stay strong throughout, and lastly, wondering how he would break it to his dad that something terrible had happened. 

His father wasn’t exactly the greatest man to tread this Earth, especially not after the drunken words he had ‘mistakenly’ uttered to you that night in Miami that resulted in your separation. Yes, Megumi knew every word and detail. His father told him everything just as a sober man would. Did you really think that the Toji Zen’in you knew would sputter that utter nonsense to you? That you had an empty soul. That he couldn’t be with someone like you. That you would forever be a placeholder to Megumi’s mother. Bullshit. None of those were true. His father told him that the reason he had to say those words, as piercing and trenchant as they may be, was because it was the only way he could free you from being caged in a relationship your heart didn’t genuinely want. 

It was Toji’s last resort to hurt you with his words, hoping that you would wake up from your false fantasy and finally have a reason to leave a relationship with a man that wasn’t Satoru Gojou. If Megumi’s father wasn’t at the top of the list of Forbes’ richest men in Japan, he would have felt a great deal of inferiority complex over a younger man like Gojou. Not because of his looks and his riches, but because he had you. No matter what Satoru did, no matter how many times he hurt you, he was and would always be that man you wanted to be with. 

Sighing, Megumi’s first task upon coming home was to check on his father’s room, only to find the dark room void of its owner. When he made his way down the grand staircase, he met an ill-spirited Naoya who was ranting to Mai about Sera flaunting Sukuna in front of his face. Megumi’s sigh was then followed by another. The drama in this house was relentless. He felt like he was exhaling endlessly, like a malfunctioning appliance. 

“Where’s dad?” asked Megumi, directing her question to a more rational Maki. 

The tall, green-haired girl gave him a knowing shrug. “You already know,” she said, “Drowning himself in alcohol down at the bar.” 

As always. 

Megumi jogged around the estate to eventually find his father at one of the wet bars near his home office. He was there, seated on a stool, his head drooping low with a glass of premium scotch in hand. How many glasses he’d had, Megumi could only hope the numbers weren't that high. But upon approaching his father, his presence was barely acknowledged as he sat on the stool next to him, suggesting that the grown man might be more inebriated than his son had expected.

“Dad,” spoke the Zen’in heir, “Dad, you good?” 

Toji lifted his head up, three sheets to the wind, as a smile crept up on his scarred lips. “Son.” 

“Let me take that.” Megumi grabbed a hold of the glass of scotch, sliding the strong liquor away from his father. “There’s something I ought to tell you.” 

Toji stayed nonchalant, sitting upright and tapping his fingers on the counter. “What’s it about this time?” he asked. “I’ve told you, I can’t stop the elders from arranging your marriage unless you’re honest with me about someone you like. I know you have someone in mind, but you’re not saying who. Are you just shy?”

Megumi gave his father a look of exasperation. He’s rambling, he thought, frustrated with his father’s inebriated chattering. “It’s not about that. It’s about Y/N-san.”

The mention of your name was the only thing that made Toji's demeanor shift to one of genuine concern. “What happened?”

“Sachi’s in a critical condition,” the younger Zen’in went straight to the point, “Y/N-san went manic over it and fainted before we could get her to the hospital.”

Toji was quick to grab his coat and car keys, as if all the alcohol in his system had immediately evaporated. But before he could leave, Megumi caught his father’s arm and pulled him back. 

“What?” said Toji, concern and urgency blanketing his gaze. “I need to be with her.” 

“Do you really need to?” Megumi countered. “Dad, I know it’s not right for me to stop you in this crucial situation, but are you gonna do this every time she’s in trouble? Do you plan to do this forever? Do you plan to keep drowning yourself in alcohol thinking about her? We care for her like family, that’s true, but you and her aren’t a thing anymore. Your responsibilities in taking care of her should stop, too. You, yourself, said it’d be best if she stopped being reliant on you. Now, do yourself a favor and stop trying to be this pathetic superhero.” 

The concern etching on Tojis’s face softened into a sense of realization, a sense of candidness that only someone as straightforward as his own son could evoke. Megumi had to, not because he didn’t care for you anymore, but because he had to ensure he wouldn’t lose his father over a relationship that had already ended. Toji was the only real family Megumi had left. 

“Stay, dad,” he pleaded, “Please.”

Toji took a deep breath and released it in the same second. “Okay,” he softly said, ruffling his son’s hair. “I won’t leave.” 

——

Why is it that you keep attracting things, places, and people that you disliked the most? 

You hated hospitals, and you had spoken about it enough to make it clear how much you dreaded going to a place where your worst memories had taken root. Yet, the sterile environment seemed to beckon you, dragging you back with a new nightmare each time. It was beyond your worst fears that you would find yourself racing through the halls mere minutes after regaining consciousness, desperately trying to reach where your son was.

Please be okay. Please be okay. 

Frantically, you scanned the corridors, searching for the ICU and hoping that what you had just heard was nothing more than a cruel illusion, that this was all just a nightmare. You weren’t a deeply devout person, but you did send prayers to every saint you could think of, hoping that Sachiro’s current state wasn’t in the median between life and death. 

Because if you lost your son, then there was no point in living anymore. This life wouldn’t be worth enduring. 

“Y/N!”

You weren’t the first one to arrive outside the pediatric ICU, with Gen and your father already being there moments before you came. You were struggling to breathe by the time you reached them, feeling your heart race with a thunderous beat. “Gen… Dad, what h-happened to him?” You couldn’t stop the weakness in your voice. “Tell me he’s fine, please. Please. My baby. If anything h-happens to him, I’m g-gonna die, Gen! I c-can’t h-have that!”

Gen quickly enveloped you in a tight embrace, trying to offer any form of comfort she could. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. Dad and I are just as shocked.” She held you closer, her voice trembling as she, too, was just as anxious as you. “Sachi refused to eat and complained about having a hard time breathing. He was so pale and his lips were blue. We knew we had to rush him to the hospital immediately.”

“Oh my God.” Your hand flew to your mouth, trying to stifle the uncontrollable cries that were escaping. The news of Sachiro developing cyanosis shattered your heart, and the crushing reality that you weren’t there to take care of him tore you apart. “My baby, no. No, no. H-He—”

“Y/N!” 

Out of breath and also visibly shaken was the father of your son, Satoru, who came running to your side the moment his eyes landed on you. Behind him was his mother, clutching a rosary in her hand as both of them were seemingly shell-shocked in the same magnitude as you and your family were. Everyone cared for Sachiro’s well-being, everyone prayed for his safety, and the thought of losing an angel like your son was a soul-crushing thought that sent you slipping into a chasm of suffering.  

“Wh-What happened to Sachi?” Satoru asked in desperation, his question raised to everyone in the vicinity—you, your family, the nurses. But no one could give him a decent answer. “Please, tell me my son’s alright. Tell me.” 

You watched him walk in circles, raking his fingers through his hair as if he was seeking anything to hold onto. And you, feeling that magnet that pulled you closer to him, broke away from Gen’s embrace to look at your son’s father. “Satoru…” 

“Y/N,” his voice cracked as he met your gaze, “Our son.” He stopped, ready to wrap you in a hug—a moment of solace you both desperately needed in this critical time. But just as he pulled you close in a fragile attempt to find comfort together, the door to the ICU swung open, abruptly ending the brief respite.

All of you immediately rushed over to the doctor, the sterile white walls and the distant hum of hospital machinery did nothing to calm the turmoil inside you. 

“Doctor, how’s he?” 

“How’s my grandson, doc?”

“Doc, my son, is he okay?” 

“Is he stable, doc?” 

“Doctor, how’s my son, please?” you asked, your body growing tense to the point of shaking.

The doctor took a deep breath, his expression serious amidst the fusillade of questions thrown at him. “We’re currently running a series of tests on the patient. We suspect Sachiro may have congenital heart disease, specifically a ventricular septal defect with associated pulmonary hypertension.”

No, it can’t be. It’s not possible! The words hit you like a punch to the gut. You struggled to process the information, your vision blurring with tears and your heart drumming a rapid staccato inside. You didn’t need to look at everyone to know that they all, for a moment, looked at you. “Heart disease? But… how? I didn’t think—”

“Can you explain more, doc? Please.” Gojou was desperate, his bright blue eyes now dull and severely clouded with a brewing storm. It was as if he was keeping himself from crying.

The doctor continued gently, “VSD is a condition where there’s a hole in the heart’s ventricular septum. It can lead to pulmonary hypertension, which means the blood pressure in the lungs is elevated. It’s a serious condition, but we’re doing everything we can to assess the extent and provide the best treatment.”

“N-No, oh God. My baby.” You felt your knees go weak, and you sank down against the wall, with more tears cascading down your cheeks like waterfall. The weight of the diagnosis was crushing, but the hardest part was realizing that this was something you had unknowingly passed on to Sachiro. The heart disease was inherited from you and had now manifested in your beloved son.

It’s my fault. It’s my fault! 

The doctor placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “We’ll keep you updated as soon as we have more information. Please, try to stay calm, Y/N. It’s not best for your heart to panic right now. Sachiro is in good hands.”

You were unable to speak through the sobs that wracked your body. The hospital corridor felt endless, and you couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt and helplessness that consumed you. You could feel all eyes on you, judging, harboring hatred, carrying deep-rooted resentment. You were torn apart by the knowledge that the very thing you had feared most was now a reality for your son.

“It’s… It’s my fault,” you sobbed, covering your face with your quivering hands, “This is all my fault. I gave it to Sachiro, I… I’m a terrible mother!” 

Gen knelt beside you, her hands gripping your shoulders with a firm yet gentle touch. “Y/N, stop it. This is not your fault. You didn’t choose this for Sachiro.”

Your father, who had been pacing anxiously nearby, joined in. “Your sister’s right. You’re blaming yourself for something beyond your control. We’re all here for you. We’ll figure this out.”

But amidst your familial exchange, Satoru stood nearby, frozen and listless. His silence only added to the overwhelming distress. Was he also blaming you for what Sachiro was going through right now? Was he also angry at you for putting his son into this critical situation? 

Suddenly, a familiar voice cut through the commotion—voice that was equally harsh and spiteful. It was Satoru’s mother, boring her fiery eyes into your skull as she opened her mouth. “That’s right! You’re self-aware, aren’t you?” she spat and stood rigidly, arms crossed defensively over her chest. “This is all your fault. You’re such an irresponsible mother! You can’t even take care of my grandson properly, and now you’ve passed your disease onto him!”

You looked up in shock, seeing Satoru’s mother standing there with a disdainful expression. The sting of her words felt like a knife twisting in your heart, because they were true. They were painful, yes, but they were true. And all you could do was lower yourself until you were sitting on your haunches, trying to make yourself as small as possible. 

“Excuse me?!” Gen stood up, her eyes blazing with anger that came from the deepest pits of hell. “You’re unbelievable, Auntie. How dare you speak to my sister like that! You have no right to blame her for this. I hope to God it was you in the ICU right now instead of Sachiro!”

“You…!” 

Satoru’s mother raised a hand to slap Gen, but your father stepped forward, his face a mix of disbelief and indignation. “This is despicable. How can you stand here and say such things to someone who’s already suffering? Weren’t you friends with my wife once?”

Satoru, who had been standing still, suddenly moved with a menacing calm. His face was hard as stone, and his eyes narrowed in anger. What was scarier was him approaching his mother with a threatening stance. “Are you really this pathetic, mother?” Satoru questioned with a cold, cutting tone. “Do you get off on making Y/N suffer? Do you think you’ve gotten away with slapping her behind my back? You don’t get to blame Y/N for anything. Any fucking thing!”

His mother’s eyes widened in shock, but she tried to defend herself at the ruthless stance her son was carrying. All of you were stunned at the realization of how Satoru resembled his cruel father at that moment. “B-But Satoru, my son—”

“Shut up!” Satoru cut her off, his voice harsh and unforgiving, before he threw his cold knuckles against the hard surface of the concrete wall. “I don’t want to see your face ever again! Don’t consider yourself my mother any longer, you witch. You’ve lost that privilege.”

This took a wild turn, and hearing the brutality of Satoru’s words was like a thunderclap in the tense atmosphere. His mother’s face turned pale, her mouth opening and closing in shock as she struggled to respond.

“Get out of here,” Satoru commanded, his voice uncaring towards her. “Leave, and don’t ever come back. You’re nobody to me now.”

With that, Satoru’s mother turned and fled, stumbling down the corridor as if she was the victim in this situation. However, the tension in the air began to dissipate as soon as she left, leaving you, Satoru, Gen, and your father in a heavy silence. Only your sniffles could be heard. 

Even Gen, who was often hostile around your ex-husband, had remained quiet and composed after she watched him take such drastic measures to keep his mother away.

Everyone was silent. Pure, unbothered silence until Satoru’s phone began to buzz loudly, cutting through the stillness of the hallway. For a moment, he closed his eyes, then he fished his phone out of his pocket where you caught a glimpse of the caller ID. 

Akemi. 

——

The ICU only allowed short visits and one person at a time, so there was no need for everyone to stay the night. You were the parent, you were the one responsible for your son’s situation, so you insisted it was best for your dad and Gen to go home and get some rest. You didn’t mind watching over your son for the whole night, because coming home without him was the last thing you would do right now.

My precious angel.

Sachiro lay in the hospital bed, his small chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. The doctors had managed to stabilize him for now, and the sight of his heart monitor showing a stable rhythm was a small comfort amidst the chaos.

Still, you sat by his bedside, mindful of your timed visit as your hands gently held his tiny ones, feeling the warmth of his small fingers. You glanced down at the medical report on your other hand, trying to make sense of the complex terms and figures.

The words blurred together as your tears fell silently onto the paper. “I’m sorry, baby.” He didn’t deserve this. He’s just a baby. “Mommy’s very sorry.”

You tried to stay strong, putting on a brave face for your son, but inside, you were falling apart. It was impossible not to blame yourself over this, wishing you could do more than just be present around him. This was the comeuppance of your own actions after you focused on your own emotions for the past few weeks to the point of neglecting your son’s wellbeing. If you had been more present in his life, if you had been more observant, you would have easily noticed the signs. Now, you allowed Satoru to find a flaw in your duty as a mother, and he could cite this very event as evidence to get full custody of him. That is, if he were to ever consider taking your son away from you. 

But in the first place, he should be the last person to do that, because where exactly was he now? 

Your thoughts kept drifting back to the earlier scene, where he excused to answer Akemi’s call, and later that night told you he had to leave and “check something” urgently. He promised he’d be back before midnight, but where was he? 

Resentment began to fester within you.

You had been very perceptive of Akemi’s feelings, apologetic in the way you supposedly betrayed her, but the fact that she was still scrambling for Satoru’s attention in the midst of your son’s hospitalization was something you could never forgive her for. 

And as for Sachiro’s father, how could he prioritize another woman when his own son was in such a critical state? The confusion of his actions was overwhelming. It felt like a cruel deja vu that, at a time when you needed him the most, he was choosing to be elsewhere. You could accept it if it was a choice between you and another woman, but between his son and her? His behavior was unacceptable, disgusting even, and it only served to deepen your grudge against him.

You clenched your fists, trying to push away the surge of anger that threatened to consume you after seeing that the disparity in his actions felt like both a betrayal and a slap to the face. Your poor son. You stared at Sachiro’s peaceful face and stroked his cheek. How could Satoru be so indifferent to his own flesh and blood?

The room was silent except for the soft beeping of the heart monitor and your quiet sobs. The situation was almost too much to bear, and your resentment towards Gojou grew heavier by the second. Each minute felt like a lifetime, and the emptiness left by his absence was a constant reminder that yet again he chose another woman over his own family.

It’s okay. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. I won’t leave you, Sachi. For Sachiro’s sake, you needed to find the strength to carry on, to be the mother he needed in this moment of crisis and never again failing to be there for your only child. 

At exactly 10:30 pm, the nurse came in and told you visiting hours were over. You complied. 

At 11:00 pm, Ian paid you a quick visit and talked to the nurses, perhaps giving them reminders to look after you. 

At 12:00 am, you were alone again. Seated at one of the benches outside the ICU—sleepless, starving, and nauseous. 

At 2:00 am, you remained in your seat despite the sterile smell of antiseptic mingling with your own discomfort. The flickering fluorescent lights above did little to help you get some proper sleep. The cold air-conditioning alao made you shiver slightly, hugging your own body to try and give yourself some warmth. 

At 4:00 am, you awakened from the noise of the movements beside you. Realizing you had fallen asleep, you looked up and saw Satoru taking a seat to your left. His coat was draped over his arm, and he offered it to you.

“Are you cold?” he asked, his voice softer than usual, but you could see the bags under his eyes suggesting the sleepless nights he’d had for the past few days. “You can use my coat.”

You took the coat, but as you caught a whiff of it, a familiar scent of Akemi’s perfume lingered. Rose Prick by Tom Ford. It was a scent you’d come to recognize after your years of being her best friend, and it made your stomach turn slightly. Without any hesitation, you handed the coat back to him. “No, thank you. I’m fine,” you replied, avoiding his gaze. Looking into his eyes was the last thing you would do. 

And you knew Satoru was sighing, but didn’t press the issue. “The nurse mentioned you haven’t eaten today.” He pulled out a small bag of assorted fruits, placing it gently on the seat between you. You eyed the offerings, feeling a pang of hunger but also a strange aversion. “I bought some fruit. Is there anything you like?”

You took a deep breath and broke the silence with a hint of sarcasm. “You’re really good at this, huh?”

“At what?” was his immediate question, puzzled.

“Hitting two birds with one stone.”

“Y/N…”

“Stop trying to take care of me,” you interrupted, your tone sharper than intended. “ I don’t need it.”

“But—”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “You can’t even be here for Sachi. You can’t even choose your son. He’s in a life and death situation and we’re still only receiving scraps of your attention.” It was the deep-seated grudge spilling out of you. “You’re so good at abandoning people, huh? Even though that’s what you hate the most. You’re so good at disappearing without even a text or call to check on me and our son. After that night at the cabin, you just…” you paused, realizing that you were opening too much of your heart to a man who didn’t deserve it. “Forget it. Just go home to Akemi. Live a happy life, build a family with her. Forget us. I don’t care. I’ll take care of Sachiro myself. I’ve done it for three years!”

“Y/N, I’m not trying to hurt you. I just…” Satoru fumbled for words, his somber blue eyes bearing the history of your shared heartbreak. It was as though the painful memories of your past were flooding his thoughts, seeking justification as to why he couldn’t pick you again this time. “I had to be there for her. She’s…”

You turned away before he could see your expression, because your heart was splintering at the thought of Satoru Gojou shattering it once more. As he always did. There seemed to be no end to this relentless heartbreak, as if any hope of a happy ever after with the man you loved would only return a pain that was a hundred times worse. Perhaps, this was destiny’s way of telling you that you and him weren’t meant to be. That any wishful thinking of being with Satoru again was only something that you could expect in another universe.

So, in your defense, you had to pull on a facade. A mask that you had to wear in the face of being the target of never-ending despair. “Satoru, I don’t want to talk about it,” you said firmly, concealing the raw ache in your voice with a smile. “And I don’t expect you to choose me every time. It’s okay. It’s happened before.”

“Can’t you see I’m hurting, too?” he asked, his voice breaking. Though you couldn’t see his face, the tremor in his voice revealed his struggle to hold back tears. 

You couldn’t understand why he would be hurting with his decision. When faced with two crossroads, he always seemed to pick the path that led away from you. So instead of trying to comprehend his pain, you decided it was time to honor your own. For your sake. For Sachiro’s. 

“Let’s just forget about that night,” you declared, wiping your eyes as you got up from your seat and prepared to walk away. “From this day forward, let’s pretend it never happened.”

——

Akemi’s apartment was dark when Satoru stepped inside. 

And to be honest, the darkness was a relief. At least, she wouldn’t be able to see the lassitude etched on his face, not just from juggling his time between his son and her, but from the constant ache of hurting the person he loved.

Miscommunication is a couple’s greatest enemy, and the persistent disconnect between you two, coupled with the reluctance to clear things up, had worn Satoru down. He wanted to end this—the feeling of helplessness and the torment of seeing the woman he cared for caught in a labyrinth of despair.

The hospital visits to Sachiro alone had been a whirlwind of emotions and responsibilities, and this brief visit to Akemi felt like an unwelcome detour, but one he couldn’t avoid. Satoru knew his heart wanted to stay in the hospital with you, to wait for any updates on his son, to hold your hand and care for you, yet here he was, dragging his feet across the carpeted floors to approach Akemi. 

“Hey.” She was sitting on the couch, looking frail but alert as if she had been desperately waiting on his arrival. She had recently started treatment for her stage 3 endometrial cancer, and Satoru could see the toll it was taking on her, physically and emotionally. He would be cruel to leave her hanging like this, to neglect her at her worst when she had been there by his side at his. Satoru had an unspoken accountability on her, because it wouldn’t be fair for him to just abandon her after she poured all her heart and soul into helping Gojou get back onto his own feet.  

“Hey, ‘Kemi,” he said, his tone soft but distant. “Did you take your meds today?”

Akemi looked up at him, her eyes tired and heavy. “I did. I took them just like the doctor said. How’s Sachiro?”

Gojou’s expression tightened. “He’s holding steady at the moment.”

A heavy silence settled between them before Akemi broke the tension. “I’m glad he’s stable,” she said, quietly. “Are you okay?”

He nodded once, his mind already drifting back to the hospital. “Yeah. Listen, I need to head back soon. Nanami and Miwa will be alternating in looking after you from now on. They’ll make sure you’re okay while I’m dealing with Sachiro. I have to focus on my son.”

Akemi’s frail hand reached out to gently grip his arm, the other held her lower abdomen in pain. “Satoru, please don’t go just yet. Can’t you stay a little longer?”

Now’s not the time to feel guilty. It was either her or Sachiro. Her or his son. Gojou decided to pull his arm away gently, his gaze distant. “Sachiro needs me, Akemi. You know that.”

Akemi’s face fell, but she knew it would be ridiculous to argue over that. “No, I understand. I get that. I want you to focus on Sachi, too. I just wish—” Before she could finish, her voice faltered, and she looked up at him with a hesitant gaze. “Satoru, do you regret that I took you back even if you cheated on me?”

The question caught him off guard, and Satoru’s blue eyes narrowed as he processed her words. He had been so focused on his responsibilities and the immediate crisis that he hadn’t given much thought to their ‘relationship’. All he knew was when he showed up at her doorstep back at the cabin, he was only going to try and end things with her. He was only going to clarify the longstanding feelings you and him poured out to each other that night, which was why he ended up sleeping with his ex-wife. But because Akemi suffered at the time, because her pelvic pain worsened to the point of an emergency, he had to hold back and just take care of her in the weeks that passed. He was caged in this situation like a prisoner who was found guilty for the crimes he had committed.

Just be honest, Satoru. Disregard everything else and just be honest. Satoru believed it was about time he stood his ground no matter the consequences. “You can’t take me back if we’re not together, ‘Kemi,” he breathed out those words, reticent on hurting her with the truth. If she would lash out on him, throw a vase on his head, slam a book on his face—he wouldn’t mind. He was ready to accept all the violence he deserved from being an asshole. “You knew from the start that this, us, was only temporary. It was never supposed to be serious.” 

Her expressions turned doleful. “Then, in that case, did you at least…” Tears welled up in her eyes as she she paused, “Did you at least love me?”

“I just… I never saw it that way, Akemi.” Satoru’s honesty would destroy her, but he didn’t want to keep on sending out false hopes. He had to be firm, and while he was grateful for everything she did for him, that doesn’t mean he owed her his life and loyalty. In the first place, he warned her that he wasn’t ready to be in a relationship. And God, he was far from ready to even settle down, yet Akemi constantly hinted at wanting to tie the knot with him. Again and again did she mention the thought of a wedding and a child and her own family. 

Satoru wanted all those things too, but with another person in mind. He was only set on having those things with one woman.

Akemi’s face paled upon hearing his answer and the fact that he didn’t even bother to explain himself. “I see. I guess I needed to hear that.”

Gojou looked at her with a mix of regret and sympathy. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for hurting you like this, I really do.”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

It definitely wasn’t fine, but Satoru had to take her word for it as he got out from the couch and gave her a gentle pat on the head. “I have to go. Nanami will be here soon. Please make sure to follow the treatment plan and take care of yourself.”

Akemi nodded, though her gaze remained fixed on the floor, unable to meet his eyes. “Alright. I’ll see him when he gets here.”

As Gojou turned to leave, he felt a pang of guilt twisting deep in his gut but pushed it aside. He was a father first before anything else. Sachiro would always be his first and foremost priority amongst everything else. 

——

After leaving Akemi’s place, Satoru was driving his car into the evening air beyond the speed limit. And his mind was racing together with him as he thought of you, your son, and the myriad of emotions he was struggling to manage. He couldn’t wait to be home, not literally at his own place, but anywhere with you and his son was his definition of home. 

It would be diabolical for him to run into your arms and yell, ‘I’m free! We can be together again!’ No, that would be cruel and disgusting. He respected Akemi just as he respected you. It was himself that he couldn’t respect, because he was the one responsible for the mess that he created. And adding Sachiro’s critical condition on top of the already festering wounds in your relationship? It truly was the manifestation of karma in his actions. 

His footsteps bounced through the hospital corridors the moment he arrived, each impatient step was ready to see your face and tell you he would never leave you and Sachiro now. But as he neared the pediatric ICU, his eyes darted around, the sight of his ex-wife was nowhere to be found. And instinctively, his heart pounded in his chest, and a drum of panic seemed to warn him of a storm that was about to come. Something was off, and it scared him. 

“Nurse,” he called out, his voice edged with urgency as he approached their station. “Where’s my wife? The boy’s mother?”

The nurse looked up, recognizing the infamous CEO’s face. “Uh, Mr. Gojou, she was heading to the rooftop, I think.”

“What?!” he unintentionally yelled at her face, “Why didn’t you guys keep an eye on her?” 

“Sir, calm down. She’s probably going to get some fresh air.”

A cold chill ran down his spine. You were definitely not there for that. 

Without another word, he sprinted towards the stairs, taking them two at a time instead of waiting at an elevator together with a group of people. He had to get to you as soon and as fast as he could without another second to waste. Although the climb felt endless, his mind racing with fear and dread was the push he needed to finally reach you. 

And upon bursting through the door to the rooftop, he was met with the soft whisper of the evening wind and the heart-stopping sight of you standing perilously close to the edge.

“Y/N!” he called out, his voice breaking with desperation. “Don’t do this. Please, step back.”

You stood motionless, eyes fixed on the distant horizon, the city lights blurring into a kaleidoscope of sorrow. “The world hates me, Satoru,” you whispered, the mellow tone of your voice carried away by the wind. “I’m a burden to everyone, even my own child. I-I just… I want to end it all.”

“No!” Satoru’s heart shattered at your words while he moved closer, his hands outstretched and careful not to startle or provoke you. He was dying to have you in his arms and keep you safe. “Y/N, please. Come back. What about Sachi? What about me? We need you. Sachiro needs you. I need you.”

What exactly made you go here? How did thoughts of ending yourself suddenly come into fruition? Was there something you discovered that brought you to this ultimatum? Gojou was desperate, utterly desperate, to hear what was running through your mind so that he could at least ease the burden that you were carrying all by yourself. He was once in the position where he wanted to commit too, and he knew the temptation that came with permanently escaping the cruelty of the world in just a single action. 

“Y/N, please. Please, I’m begging. Come to me,” he rattled on in a suffocating whisper, the pleading in his voice was heavy, “Please. I love you. Only you.”  

It was when you turned around that Gojou’s world collapsed, and the words you said after had shattered his entire universe. 

They were still. 

You. 

And the wind. 

“I’m pregnant,” you finally confessed, voice cracking as you looked at the faint tears that fell from Satoru’s eyes. “I don’t wanna have this baby.” 

[ratstuckinamarble]

The shitty lungs curse is spreading to my mutuals... run everyone (if your lungs will let you)

they never tell you abt The Skeleton's Curse (bone pain)

[thealbatrovss]

nightmares come true // logan howlett x reader

summary: you get hurt during an intense battle

oneshot: ANGST, comfort. Swearing, injury, violence

word count: 2k

I’m currently taking fic requests btw!!! masterlist

The bleeding wouldn’t stop.

You could’ve sworn Logan described this exact scenario to you before. Down to the very last detail.

A few times actually. It was only ever after you calmed him down from the nightmares that he told you what they were really about.

They were the same, each time. Sometimes the location or clothes would vary, but the outcome never changed.

They were of you. Dying in his arms. In a pool of blood.

Death was something Logan never had to worry about. His powers wouldn’t allow it. But, when it came to you, that was a whole other matter. He thought about it all the time.

When the nightmares returned, and they returned often, they filled him with so much fear it scared you.

He woke with your name on his lips. You whispered words of comfort against his sweaty skin. And wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in the crook of his neck and told him you were safe. That he was safe too.

All those nights, you combed through strains of wet hair and held him close, waiting for his breathing to steady. Sometimes his claws would come out. Thats when the night terrors were really bad. On one occasion, they accidentally cut you. Logan refused to sleep in the same bed for days after that.

He would always ask you if you were okay after those frightful dreams. Every single time. And you’d tell him you were and hoped he’d go back to sleep. But you knew he stayed up. Afraid take he’s eyes off you. Afraid the dreams would become real.

Were you slipping into that dream now?

Kurt held your head in his lap. He pressed down on the right side with shaking hands, muttering under his breath. Something about God and healing. You didn’t really know, your hearing and vision were both fading.

He applied more pressure to your wound. The pain was so bad you wanted to scream. It was the kind of pain that made it impossible to think, talk, breathe, or do anything.

Your heart was beating for its life. The pulse pounding in your brain right where it hurt the most. It grew bigger and bigger. Your head was a ticking time bomb, ready to explode.

The ship shook violently, the battle outside raging on. You thought you could hear Logan shouting for where you were. But you couldn’t tell. There was blood in your ears.

You pleaded with the universe that Logan wouldn’t see you like this.

Another shockwave hit the plane. You winced from the sudden movement, your brain throbbing underneath a relentless force.

“I need… I need to help them.”

But Kurt wouldn’t let you move. You caught a glimpse of crimson on his blue skin and underneath his nails as he gently pressed you down.

“They’ll be fine.” He assured you. You were too exhausted to protest, your body sagging against your friend. “You just need to stay still.”

The constant rocking back and forth of the plane and the ground rumbling beneath you wouldn’t let that happen. But Kurt kept you as steady as he could.

Flickering red and orange lights illuminated the windows. Smoke billowed past, creating dark clouds. You noticed you couldn’t smell the fires burning. You could only smell metal. There was a man shouting at Kurt to open the hatch.

He carefully laid your body on his jacket, now soaked with blood. Your blood. You'd have to buy him a new one if you made it out of this mess. The thought brought a weak smile to your face. Kurt pressed one of the control buttons and the hatch slowly opened.

Logan couldn’t wait for the hatch to finish opening before rushing in, still asking for you. His black suit was full of holes but his skin was completely healed over. Dirt and specks of blood stuck against the sweat on his face and hair. He was breathing hard, the smoke from the fires making their way into the ship. He covered his mouth, finding the button that closed the hatch.

Then he saw you. Lying on the cold floor. Blood seeping into a coat pocket, body trembling.

Logan felt sick. Like someone reached into his stomach and rearranged everything. No amount of metal or regeneration could protect him from something like this.

His jaw clenched, ready to burst at the seams. It was a rubber band wound up too tight. “What the fuck happened?”

“I don’t know.” Kurt stammered, still shaking. “I see someone falling, I grab them.” He returned to the same spot, putting pressure back on your skull. “We came here once I smelled the blood.”

A whimper escaped your mouth. Logan snapped out of the initial shock and made his way over to you. His knees hit the hard floor. He took your hand. Nausea overcame him when your blood went cold against his skin. “Hey. It’s me. It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.” He kept repeating it. Just like he did in his night terrors.

This didn’t feel real. It couldn’t be.

Could it?

But it was.

He could sense it creeping in.

You weren’t supposed to be in this situation. Logan had gone out of his way to make sure something like this would never happen.

But sometimes, nightmares come true. And the worst one was unraveling right before him.

“Go… help.” You were wheezing. The rattle slithering out whenever you tried to speak. Was there blood in your lungs too?

What you said made him hold onto you that much tighter. “No way in hell. I’m not leaving you like this.”

He paused. From where he kneeled, he had a clear view of your injury. He wanted to tear those monsters outside to pieces.

You shut your eyes, face curled up in pain. Kurt continued to mutter prayers. Logan held your cold skin to his mouth, leaving frantic kisses on the back of your hand. It almost looked like he was praying too.

Then, a blood curdling scream irrupted from you. You screamed so hard that your legs thrashed and fingers tightened around Logan’s wrist. You’d never felt pain like this before. All consuming. Like a dragon swallowed you whole. Blades of flame and ice scattered along its esophagus.

Logan slammed his fist against the metal floor. “God dammit!” He was trying to keep himself from crying. A wild look overtook his eyes. He whipped his head towards the hatch and back to Kurt. “Go get Jean.” He ordered his teammate. “Now!”

Kurt nodded. He would not hesitate. He tried peeling Logan’s hands from your own, but Logan would not budge. He only looked more confused, hurt and angry.

Kurt sighed, pointing at you. “It’s for her.”

Logan let some of his anger dissipate, realizing what Kurt was trying to do. He let him guide his hands to your head and vanished into thin air as soon as Logan was in the proper place to care for you.

Logan pushed the fabric against the gash in your skull. Your eyes scrunched up again, teeth biting your lip.

“You’ll be fine.” He repeated over and over again. He soothed you with it. Cradled your head in his lap. Made sure to stay as still as he could. He put too little pressure on your head. As soon as he noticed, he put too much pressure on the wound. He eventually found the balance, watching your face twist back into a more comfortable position. “Nothing you can’t come back from.”

Something wet dripped onto your forehead. Mixing with your own tears. Was Logan bleeding too?

The darkness was inviting you to sleep. Yet, you didn’t want to leave Logan’s warm embrace. But you were so tired. And the nothingness was quiet. Your eyes fluttered, fighting the blood loss.

Panic shot through him. “Don’t you fucking dare.” His pleas grew more erratic. He was reaching for words that didn’t belong together. “The flowers in your room. You need to water them.” When did so much blood get in your hair? Your breathing became shallow. “Everyone gets hit in the head. Fucking get up.” You couldn’t smell anything anymore. Was his voice falling apart? “I think we should go home.”

There was a brief flash of blue that popped into your blurry view. Red hair swam front of your face. Cold hands taking over for him. There was more talking and cursing. You felt drunk in the head. Logan’s animalistic screams faded as he ran out of the hatch, claws unsheathed. Jean yelled for him to come back.

Then it was just darkness. A long sleep.

Logan was by your side when you woke up.

He nearly jumped out of his seat when he saw you struggling to open your eyes. But, he hesitated to touch you. Like one wrong move would send him back to that pool of blood and claustrophobic ship.

“Hey.” He let out a shaky breath.

With the pad of his thumb, he gently brushed away the crust underneath your eyelids. You could see much clearer now. The infirmary was empty except for the two of you. The lights overhead were nearly too bright to handle. Your head was still pounding. But the worst pain was in the chest, moving all the way to your back.

You noted the tear stains on his cheeks and the black, torn up X Men suit he was still wearing.

How long were you out? You really hoped he didn’t stay here watching over you for days on end. You needed him to take care of himself.

It took a while to gather the strength to speak. “Logan…” Your voice scratched the air. It still hurt to talk. “When did you last sleep?”

Logan let himself exhale once he heard your voice. You were alive. Right in front of him. But it didn’t feel real until now. “You of all people, are worried about me?” He chuckled, kissing your forehead, caressing your cheek. “Never change.”

You pushed your face into the palm of his hand. “Is everyone else okay?”

He nodded. That was good to hear. Everyone made it out of that hell hole safely. As soon as you were able to, you were going to go thank Kurt for everything he did. And buy him a new coat.

“See? Nightmare averted. You can sleep just fine now.”

His face fell. “No. I can’t. I won’t.”

“That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?” You motioned towards the water on the table. He sat on the edge of the bed and brought the straw to your lips. The water was cool against your dry tongue and sore throat. You let him put the drink back. “Was it that bad?”

He pursed his lips, tilting his head in discomfort. His fingers gripped the sides of the bed. They turned white against the blue sheets. “What do you think?”

“Can’t really think right now. My head is killing me.”

“And a collapsed lung.” He added. You thought he was going to break the bed.

Memories started flooding back to you. The powerful kick to the chest, the weapon slicing open your head. Then before you knew it, you were falling.

“I did a lot worse to that fucker than what he did to you. I made sure of it.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, his face curled up like he was in pain too. “This can’t happen again.”

Your throat was dry and it still hurt to talk, but you powered through. “I can’t promise you it won’t.”

He whipped his head around. He looked so tired. “You almost died last night.” The pain echoed off every single word. “It. Can’t. Happen. Again.”

You reached for his hand and he hesitated again. Eyes locked on the tiny injuries along your fingers. That’s where he kissed you as you lay dying.

“I’m sorry.” His fingers danced across your own, avoiding them like a crush.

“This isn’t your fault.”

“Sure feels like it is.”

You began to cough. Your bruised ribs hurt with each sharp inhale and exhale. Logan brought the straw back to your lips. “Jean will be back soon to check up on you. Take it easy, okay?” You swallowed, thanking him once again.

There was a pause, but not an uncomfortable one. “I think you should go get some rest.”

“I’m fine.” He picked at the fiber strains of your blanket. “I don’t sleep, I get a little tired. You don’t sleep, you can barely function. I get hurt, I heal just as quickly. You get hurt…” He stopped himself from finishing the sentence by biting down on the inside of his cheek. “God, I need a fucking drink.”

“Then go get one. After you take care of yourself.”

“That is taking care of myself.”

“No, it really isn’t.”

“Jesus.” He dragged his hands over his face. “You are not going to let this go?”

“Nope.” Logan wanted to kiss that stupid smirk off your lips.

He sighed. “I just don’t want to go through it again.”

“Maybe you’ll dream of something different this time. Something better.”

Jean walked into the room, still giving the two of you space. He knew you’d be fine with her. That you were safe now. But it still hurt to leave.

“Fine. I’ll go sleep or whatever.” Logan kissed your forehead one last time before standing up. “But then I’m coming right back.”

You watched him go with a weak smile. There was still a lot of healing to do, but you’d do it together.

[cripplecharacters]

Facial Differences that You Should Consider Representing in Your Writing More

[large text: Facial Differences that You Should Consider Representing in Your Writing More]

As it has been said many times on this blog before, facial differences are a very wide spectrum - there’s thousands of conditions that cause it, and they’re often extremely different from each other! It’s an incredibly diverse category almost by definition. But…

In books, movies, and our inbox, it seems that a traumatic battle scar is the only facial difference that exists. I find this rather frustrating because I would like to see the real life diversity to be actually considered by writers when creating characters - and that’s exactly what this post is for. I hope that by making people just aware of the myriad of options they have, I can help a bit. 

This isn’t to say that you shouldn’t write characters with scars, it’s to say that there’s more for you to consider. Just like not every physically disabled person has hip dysplasia and not every neurodivergent person has epilepsy, not every person with a facial difference has scars! 

Of course, this list isn’t exhaustive - no such list exists, it would be like “list of every disability ever”, it simply can’t be done. This is just a dozen random facial differences that I would like to see incorporated into characters more often!

Facial paralysis Exactly what the name implies. There are many types of facial paralysis - complete, partial, bilateral, unilateral, chronic, acute, and it can affect the whole face, or only part of it.  Sometimes it can cause problems with speech or dry eyes (mostly the latter), but it’s frequently just primarily a visual difference. A person with facial paralysis might be completely unable to make facial expressions at all if it’s severe, or have a lop-sided smile and inability to raise an eyebrow or control an eyelid like me. Causes include cranial nerve damage (especially the 7th nerve, which is called facial palsy), Bell’s palsy, Möbius syndrome, or multiple sclerosis! It can be congenital, like in my case, or acquired, like in most cases - mostly due to stroke. Here I would write something about the current media representation being good, bad, or what tropes to look out for but I don’t know a single character with it. So :-)

Anotia/microtia Microtia is a congenital facial difference that affects the outer ear(s) - as the name implies, they’re smaller than average; anotia means a complete lack of them. This usually will also result in being d/Deaf or hard of hearing in that ear, as the ear canal can be smaller or closed (depending on the “grade”). People with microtia who decide on using hearing aids will usually wear a bone-anchored hearing aid, which looks very differently from the “regular” HA; it’s worn with a headband. Microtia can be the only facial difference that a person has, but it can also be a part of Goldenhar syndrome, Treacher Collins syndrome (mentioned below!), or hemifacial microsomia.

Congenital Trochlear Nerve palsy I have a subtype of this, and because it happens to have the most boring name in existence I have never seen anyone talk about it, certainly not see a character with it. So! CNIV palsy (again, an incredibly catchy name) is a disorder of one of the very-easy-to-damage nerves that allow eyes to move. It causes constant double vision, severe strabismus, and progressive facial asymmetry. A person with CNIV palsy will have a 24/7 head tilt to the side and will have their chin tucked in, which causes said asymmetry - facial features on the side of the tilt will sag down, the eye will “sunk” in, and because it’s congenital, the jaw can grow to be misaligned (like mine!). Over time, it causes neck pain and kyphosis, so add chronic pain to that. Trochlear nerve palsy can be congenital, acquired, traumatic, and even extremely rarely genetic (that’s me! allegedly <1 in a million). However, most acquired cases are only temporary, and “fix themselves” with the passage of time. Again, I would love to write something about CNIV palsy representation, but I’m fairy confident it doesn’t exist : )

Sturge-Weber syndrome The most visible part of SWS - that you might be familiar with - are port wine stains! In this syndrome, they tend to be large and generally cover the forehead-eye area. Around 15% of people with any kind of port wine stain on their face have Sturge-Weber syndrome, and even more when it comes to larger ones. Most people with SWS will have epilepsy since childhood, and many will develop glaucoma (which causes blindness) if the PWS is around that eye. Hemiparesis (one-sided weakness) can also sometimes happen on the opposite side of the PWS. Here is a short article about media representation from a person with SWS!

Cystic Hygroma Also known as lymphangioma, it is a bump that mostly happens on a person’s lower face and/or neck. It’s almost always congenital and a result of a blockage in the lymphatic system (thus lymphangioma). Sometimes, if it affects the mouth or jaw, it may cause a speech disability where the person’s speech might not be fully understandable, or cause an airway obstruction; this generally means that the person has to have a trach tube in their neck to breathe. Here is a short article about living and growing up with cystic hygroma by Atholl Mills!

Congenital melanocytic nevus A complicated name for a specific kind of birthmark! Melanocytic means related to melanin, so it’s a black or brown birthmark that can show up on any part of the body and be of almost any size. Sometimes it can be hairy as well. While CMN doesn’t usually cause any problems, people who have it have a higher risk of skin cancer, epilepsy, and brain tumors. Here is a short article on representation - among other things - by a person with CMN!

Ptosis Ptosis is actually really common - I can almost guarantee that you have seen someone with it - but for some reason it never shows up in media, unless it’s to show that a character is under the influence or vaguely creepy. Ptosis is simply a drooped eyelid. It’s caused by damage to the third cranial nerve, which can be congenital, acquired, traumatic, etc. It’s very common in myasthenia gravis and CHARGE syndrome. In most cases ptosis is a visual thing, but it can sometimes cause problems - for me, it partially obstructs my vision and for some people who acquired it later in life that can cause pain (due to having to constantly lift the eyebrow). Ptosis is often misunderstood, and people tend to make bizarre assumptions about those of us who have it - even Wikipedia cites “looking sinister” as a symptom (not that I particularly trust Wikipedia as a source, but it shows the general public’s view quite well). In real life, we are normal people and all these “drunk/high/rude/evil” associations aren’t true at all.

Treacher Collins syndrome You have probably seen a person with TCS at some point, as it’s not that rare. This is a genetic, congenital disability that affects the development of the face. The bones of the jaw and cheeks are underdeveloped, eyes have a downturned shape, and microtia/anotia is often present as well. A lot of people with Treacher Collins are d/Deaf or hard of hearing. Sometimes, the small jaw might cause problems with breathing, which is why a lot of people with TCS will have a permanent tracheostomy tube in their neck. Similar to ptosis, eyes in TCS are often seen as “looking sad”, but that’s an incorrect assumption - that’s just how they look like. The main and only big representation of TCS in media is that one awful movie from a few years ago, that was literally just inspiration porn featuring an able-bodied actor based on a shitty book, made by an author with some sort of abled-person guilt. Very cool, don’t do that.

Crouzon syndrome Crouzon syndrome is a type of craniosynostosis; a congenital condition where a person’s skull fuses too early. There are other disabilities that can look somewhat similar, like Pfeiffer or Apert syndrome, but they are different!  CS will affect the person's skull - it will be taller than usual, eyes - they will be large and bulging, midface - it's often smaller than average and can look sunk in comparison to the jaw and forehead, and more! Sometimes people with Crouzon syndrome are d/Deaf or hard of hearing (very common with craniofacial differences), or experience long term effects of hydrocephalus, which happens fairly often. Here is a short article by Mikaela Moody about movie representation - and her piece on how it to be trans while having a facial difference, which I relate to a lot and wanted to share:-)

Phthisis bulbi Phthisis bulbi is something that I have mentioned on this blog before, as it logistically should be represented way more often in fiction than it currently is. It's also known as the “end-stage eye” which is a pretty metal name. This is an ocular difference that can result after trauma to the eye. It can also result from a million other things, but trauma is apparently the most common thing to happen to an eye in fiction, so. With phthisis bulbi, the eye shrinks, sinks, and everything inside becomes stiff; this is permanent, and the eye isn't functional anymore - it's blind and unable to move. The only treatment is to have the eye removed, especially if it causes pain. If you're writing a character who got a Hot Sexy Scar over their eye and still has that eye, they probably should have this (and yes, the “shrunk and sunk” part is mandatory, you can't just make the eye lighter and call it a day).

Frontonasal dysplasia Frontonasal dysplasia is a congenital facial difference that affects the structure of the face. While it's a spectrum with a lot of variety, most people with FND will have hypertelorism (eyes spread widely apart), a flat and broad nose, and a cleft going through the middle of the nose. Other facial clefts (not necessarily just cleft lip) are also common. Sometimes, someone with it can also have cranium bifidum (meaning a brain/meninges that protrude through the skull, similar to how spina bifida works), or intellectual disability related to the potential absence of corpus callosum. Rarely, limb differences can also be a part of it; absent tibia, extra toes, or clubfoot. Again, I’m unaware of any representation of FND outside of “scary birth deformity” on medical shows :--)

Parry–Romberg syndrome PRS is also known as progressive hemifacial atrophy, which is a much more descriptive name. It’s an acquired facial difference that people just get for unknown reasons, mostly before the age of 20 and usually between 5 and 15. Generally, PRS is considered to be slowly-progressing, but this can vary pretty widely between different people. As the name implies, it causes atrophy in the face, which affects everything from skin to fat and muscles to sometimes even bones. Some people will also experience skin darkening, alopecia (hair loss), or trigeminal neuralgia (very severe nerve pain) on the atrophied side. The difference between the two sides can be very pronounced, with a visible line between the halves showing up on the forehead. Again, no existing rep that I know of :-)

And as always, I recommend this short PDF that in my opinion any writer who wants to include a character with an FD has to read. Additionally, you can also check our #face difference tag, this primer on facial difference, or this piece on making sure you’re not contributing to disfiguremisia.

Also apologies for the amount of “idk what to say about already existing rep because it literally doesn’t exist afaik” but I hope it illustrates the problem :-)

Happy Face Equality Week!

mod Sasza

[astridthevalkyrie]

me getting into a new character: how neurodivergent am i allowed to go

cw: fluff + a few mild horny thoughts

Rafayel has this little quirk where he's practically incapable of acting like a normal boyfriend. Or a normal person, honestly. Where other people would just take your hand walking down the street, he holds it out with a too-happy, beaming grin so that he can see you take it yourself. Where other people would just sit down at a fancy restaurant, he makes mock offended noises if you try to sit before he can make a big show of pulling your chair out for you.

Where other people would kiss you, he likes biting.

"I'm thinking," he muses, nibbling on your earlobe, "what about a diamond necklace?"

You sigh, burrowing yourself further into him, back against his chest. You're quite comfortable, and you could even fall asleep if it wasn't for his constant yammering. "No."

"Come on," he complains, sinking his teeth into your cheek this time. You let out a brief sound of exasperation, trying to bat at him, but he remains steadfast, tongue poking out to soothe the minor indent he leaves into your skin. "How'm I supposed to prove myself if you won't let me?"

"How would you buying me a diamond necklace prove anything?"

One of his hands slips under your shirt, resting right under your chest. His fingers knead whatever they get in contact with—it's not painful, actually it feels pretty good, not that you'd ever admit it to him. Though you suppose, turning around in his hold and silently indicating to him to pull you closer may just be admitting exactly that.

"It'd prove I'm not cheap, for one thing. I'd be able to tell everyone, whatever my girlfriend wants, she gets! You're so strange, not wanting anything. Do you even know how rich I am?"

"Tell you what," you mumble, burying your face in his neck and completely melting in his arms as soon as his comforting scent fills your senses, "you buy me a quesadilla tomorrow and I'll tell everyone you're practically my sugar daddy."

Rafayel scoffs. "Like anyone would ever believe you were a sugar baby. You don't have the constitution for it."

That might be a new lead in the top ten strangest insults you've ever heard from him. Shooting a small glare up his way, you bite back, "Are you going to let me sleep or are you gonna keep talking?"

"Keep talking," he answers without hesitation, then barrels forward before you can protest. "Hmm, maybe I should just fill my place up with amenities for you. Cheese plates in the kitchen. Exfoliators in the bathroom. A butler to take your coat."

The ridiculous idea of him hiring a butler just so someone could occasionally take your coat from you when you come over makes you laugh, which in turn puts a pleased smile on his face and accidentally encourages him to continue.

"What's that kids' movie you like? Twelve Dancing Princesses? What if I just repaint this room with the floor design from that?"

Now hang on. This one actually interests you, the idea of playing out your childhood fantasies out by dancing around in Rafayel's room. If you asked, you're sure he'd hire someone to replicate the same dress the main character from that movie wears too. "Wouldn't that be embarrassing? Anyone who comes here would see it."

"Yeah, something tells Thomas won't care. And if anyone else does come here, they'll probably write a boringly long article meant to flatter me. Renowned artist is super nice and generous to his childish girlfriend—"

"Says the guy who cried during Island Princess," you fire back, "also, it's nice to know you're only trying to spoil me for acclaim."

"Hello? Did you miss the part where I said boringly long? I'm trying to spoil you because I want you to spend my money."

"Why? It turns you on or something?"

"Maybe," he grins, pretending to lean in to kiss you, then sinking his teeth into your cheek once more the second you purse your lips to meet him halfway. With a quiet growl, you kick at his feet, and he only laughs against your skin. "Come oooon, I'm serious. Tell me at least one expensive thing I can get you."

Finally, you open your eyes, looking up at him with all your sincerest conviction. "Raf. If you wanna ruin your reputation and renovate your floor into the Twelve Dancing Princesses one just to prove a point, go for it. But I'm warning you, I'm gonna have to give you the best head of your life if you do that."

Rafayel groans, the hand that's not up your shirt tangling into your hair. "Don't tell me that, you're gonna force me to be selfless and turn it down. This isn't transactional. I give you my card and tell you to go wild, and then you just do it. Nothing in return."

Ah, yes, the Raf classic. Say the sweetest possible thing in the most irritating way he possibly can. Well, two can play at that game.

"If you give me your card and expect nothing in return, I'm going to strictly buy paint supplies in all your favorite brands, all your favorite colors—"

"I don't have favorite colors—"

Clamping a hand over his mouth, you press on. "And your weak attempt to spoil me will fall flat because not only will I only buy things you like, but I'll wire you the entire amount of what I spend the next day."

He lets out a dramatic half-whine, shaking you a little. "Man, you're so embarrassing!" Tugging you closer, he drowns out your complaints with his own protests. "So clingy, stop getting so close to me! Oh my god," he moans, holding your hand tighter the more you try to fight him and pull back, "get away from me, stalker. Let go!"

"Holy shit, you're so annoying—"

"And you're so obsessed with me, it's concerning."

For once, you're the one pouting at him. "I'm trying to sleep. You're really warm. Can you please push my limits later?"

An affectionate smile lights up his face. "Yeah, okay. As long as you agree tomebuyingyouapradabag."

"No."

Rafayel snorts, tucking his face into your hair. "And you think you could handle being a sugar baby."

[atoriv-art]

what are your thoughts on the hyuga siblings and their relationship

OOF now thats one of my favorite naruto dynamics lmao. i think neji and hinata have a very interesting relationship and i say that as someone who really didn't (and tbh still doesn't) love how that relationship developed in canon

i really like the hyuga fight in the chunin exams because the way it's perceived is sooo interesting to me.. neji comes off as an outright bully and i don't even blame the kids for calling him an asshole after all of that, but from reader's perspective it's really obvious that his animosity only exists because of a larger issue...

neji shouldn't treat hinata the way he does, but he does so because of her unique position as a scorned heir. she still benefits from everything that makes his life awful - her life is still valued more than his - but hiashi hates her enough that he won't care if neji dishes out verbal abuse on her. it's an awful dynamic and definitely contributes to hinata's terrible self-worth, but it's a symptom of the life they have been forced into by the man who the manga is intent on letting escape all of the blame for this situation lmao

(hiashi himself can be a really fascinating case honestly. i think he fully means everything he says, which is what makes him so grating but fun to me LOL. his apology to neji is entirely sincere AND it completely misses the point of all of the issues, but neji is young and deprived of acknowledgement enough that he accepts it wholeheartedly. hiashi thinks he's the best uncle of all time.)

hinata herself has so little belief in her own worth that she just sits there and takes whatever abuse people throw at her... i don't actually think neji's anger towards her was a constant - i think some people interpret it that way - rather i feel like it was something that came up whenever he was pushed too far. in more normal circumstances where he's not being made to fight her directly, he was likely more detached than anything. he wanted nothing to do with her.

in one of the filler mini arcs ive mentioned before (i think. the one that focuses on hanabi and hinata) there's a scene that rang very true to me (and im gonna recount this without rewatching it atm so sorry if i get details wrong,): neji was being made to train with hinata, asked to be allowed to leave because he felt his time was being wasted and correctly noted that it doesn't have to be him here, was told no by hiashi and then he started getting vicious and violent. towards hinata, of course, not hiashi. he then got horribly punished for it LOL i think that's the general dynamic they were living in, neji reaches a limit of disrespect that he can take and explodes on the nearest most acceptable target (we loove a boy with no emotional regulation <3), goes too far and suffers the consequence of it while nothing else changes. to him interacting with hinata at all is just asking for pain, either emotional or straight up physical

But, for hinata, she saw herself and neji as similar (the black sheep of the family i suppose), and would have liked to bond over that fact; theyve known each other since they were very little and she outright refers to him as a brother. it's clear to me she's always cared a lot about neji and imo feels responsible for what happened to his father (something that hiashi doesn't help with. Dad of the year), so she saw their match in the exams as a chance to close the distance between them and get neji to see her as a person, an equal instead of a symbol to lash out on.

but, you know, she was 12 LMAO so she ended up pressing all of his buttons instead and it led to his famous outburst, which led to the famous moment of Every Single Jonin (other than asuma.) coming to stop him and further cementing his belief that her life is seen as special. i think (and this is a mix of Shit I Made up, and Me trying to make sense of the manga's insane mishandling of their plotline) that despite her trying her hardest to reach neji she didn't really grasp the horror of his situation. that's the tragedy of neji's life really LMAO, no one really tries to grapple with the severity of what having that curse mark does to a person. she thought of his fatalism as more of a psychological, metaphorical way of dealing with hurt and not like... "my life literally does not belong to me no matter how much i try to fight it"

this is loooooong take this readmore.

i think hiashi-hizashi were hoping that the cousins could have had a better relationship than they did... letting them hang out often and stuff, introducing them early, hizashi not discouraging neji from being friendly with her, to me it all reads as very "ok well this didn't work for Us, but what if it works out for them... even though literally nothing has changed". they were proper family once and hizashi wanted to die for his brother, not his leader, so that just makes sense to me.

i do nautttt like the naruto vs neji fight so to keep the post positive i will gloss over it <3 but hinata and neji's relationship post-chunin exams to me is peak like. God i wish this was done better because it could have been soooo good

neji realizes that his anger is consuming him and adjusts his behavior accordingly, getting a lot of his kindness back, and he becomes intent on fixing his relationship with hinata... i don't hate that premise at all, it's just the way it's executed that bothers me!

the impression i got (and i could be mistaken im in the process of rewatching the anime + rereading the manga) is that their relationship getting better is done exclusively through like. neji repenting for being mean to her. which, don't get me wrong, he SHOULD apologize (AND THAT WOULDVE BEEN A COOL THING TO SEE ONSCREEN, BTW) but you CANNOT divorce his behavior from the hyuga system in general. from the way they act after the exams you would think their issues were born solely from neji being a bully for no reason, and not, like... him lashing out on her because his uncle is literally the devil.

i don't think hinata has the power to change a lot in her clan on short notice (she did get disowned. did that un-happen offscreen? we will never know. Hiashi gets to be a grandfather to her children btw.) but i certainly would have liked to see her standing up for branch members and in the stuff i draw that's the story i have in mind LMAO. like, her gaining a deeper understanding of neji's situation and trying to work against her father trying to make her cousin's life better? i think that would have been really sweet and even show her gaining more confidence in herself and her beliefs. you can still have neji fussing over her and being protective because he feels bad for how they used to be, i actually really like that because neji IS a very sweet person, i just reject the idea that it's his sole Moral Obligation to put everything aside and make things better by the power of I Will Die For You Now, But This Time, For The Right Reasons

as for hanabi i wish she had more screentime soooo bad because i'm obsessed with how she gives off Haunted Child vibes lmfao. talking abt her requires me to expose myself a little bit and have to admit hiashi is kind of a blorbo to me because of how much he sucks ass, but like. Essentially his insane resentment of hinata was born when hizashi died, it doesnt matter it wasn't really her fault, he needed someone to blame and he would never blame himself, at least not outwardly lol. hiashi did genuinely love his brother, it just didn't stop him from being a monster to him, and he is certainly not gonna grapple with that now that he's dead!

(and, you know, the whole "sorry we sent a guy to kidnap an heir. you do need to die for killing him though" thing is really dumb but if we stop at every single stupid thing in naruto we will be here all day.)

with all that being said i think hiashi tries his best to make hanabi everything hinata isn't, and he has very little interest in having her and hinata have any bond at all. he just left neji and hinata to fester in that god-awful dynamic with no supervising, and took hanabi as the best direction for the clan to head towards. but, you know, father of the year is very demanding and doesn't seem to be very fatherly to her at all from the little we see of them. she's just like. a good soldier, and that's what he needs.

i think hanabi growing to resent her sister for the situation she's been put into (if hinata weren't 'weak' she wouldn't have so much responsibility) is very interesting! by the time we meet her i think she's learned that the best thing to do wrt her sister is to just ignore that she exists. as for neji he barely registers as a presence to her; neji has no reason to interact with her and hiashi has no reason to incentivize it. it's very fun to me!

in general i really like all of their dynamics can be used to explore how hurt and trauma drive people apart, i could talk about them for hourssss LMAO i love the suna family for the same reason!

[fallenfrommars6277]

I didn't see anyone address to this properly, so I'm going to try to put into words something that I've been thinking since my rewatch of Dead Boy Detectives.

I've seen some people saying that Edwin's punishment in hell doesn't make any sense because he doesn't belong there and honestly I don't entirely agree. I mean, Edwin's designated afterlife isn't hell of course, but I think his punishment has a meaning.

We can see that hell is shaped quite like Dante's hell and we can only suppose that it works like it as well, so the souls receive a punishment that is an analogy or a contraposition to their guilt, that means that the punishment is somehow similar to their guilt and what they did in their life or the complete opposite.

Therefore, we see the lustful people indulging in their pleasure, the greedy people eating and vomiting, the slothful not being able to move, Maxine tearing her letters and of course Simon. He keeps tearing the pages of a book with the initials of himself and Edwin, his secretly and impermissibly loved one, causing himself little paper cuts that seem no big deal, but they are endless: an infinite number of little hurts, that put together of course aren't so little anymore. But what's the meaning behind his punishment? Well, I think it's an analogy to the feelings he must have felt when he was alive, I mean, he was gay in a male boarding school and he was in love with Edwin, he must have suffered a constant little pain reminding him of his "guilt".

And Edwin's line "if you punish yourself everywhere becomes hell" kinda pairs with it: it's not like he's in hell because of his sense of guilt, of course he's there because he participated in the ritual that killed Edwin, but we see that his designated afterlife isn't hell, he's stuck there because he thinks he's guilty, not of having killed Edwin or at least not only, he feels guilty for his feelings for him.

Moving to Edwin, I think that it's the same thing. He goes to hell only because he's the victim of a sacrifice but he's also stuck there in his endless and cyclic torture: he is chased by a giant spider made of dolls, that no matter how hard he tries to outrun (or maybe precisely because he tries so hard to run away) catches him and tears him apart and basically eats him "alive".

Finally getting to the point, I don't know if I'm delirious but I see an analogy between this punishment and Edwin's life. I mean, I don't think that he's finding out now that he likes boys, I think that now he's being able to acknowledge it to himself and to others, but if we think of the scene at school when Simon goes to him and he runs away (he then points it out clearly saying that he used to run every time he tried to get closer), I think that it's actually clear that he's feeling something. Of course, they're feelings that he's not allowed to feel (or worse, they're feelings no one talks about at his time, it's like they shouldn't even exist), but you can't stop a feeling, you can act in denial, tell yourself and others that it's nothing, but you still feel that feeling, whether you want it or not. And that feeling pressed down to your core tries every way to burst out and if it can't find a way, it simply tears you apart and eats you from the inside.

So, just like when he was alive he kept running from his feelings, that eventually would have broken him into pieces (because if he kept living he probably would have had a life torn apart between who he really was and how he had to appear), in his death he is condemned to run away from the spider made of dolls (why the dolls? I don't know, maybe they refer to his "feminine side", the boys that sacrifice him call him Mary Ann after all, but I'm not sure) that tears him apart and eats him whole.

Again, maybe I'm just obsessing real hard, but either way I don't think that Edwin's punishment is just meaningless.

[graveyardcuddles]

I'm thinking about Astarion again and how actually amazing it is that he managed to hold onto as much of himself as he did after having had everything about his identity and sense of self systematically stripped away from him. And how it's even more incredible he managed to do so without even getting to look at himself at all in all that time.

We know his trauma cut him off from his ability to trance and therefore his ability to recall memories from before he was turned. What must it be like to have nothing? Not even happy memories to look back on? A spawn. A dead thing to be used as his master sees fit. Tortured by Cazador and Godey. Starved to the point of constant hunger pain. Forced to use his body and sexuality to seduce people who sometimes not only disgusted him but who would sometimes even hurt him...AND through all of this, this whole nightmare, he can't even see his own face. Even his own perception of himself is stolen from him.

I've gone through some horribly low points in life. Points where I've felt like I was literally losing my mind or about to end it all. And sometimes in those moments, I just had to stare at myself in the mirror, look myself in the eye and literally talk myself down. There have been times where my mental state was so bad and my perception of reality so warped I HAD to look at my own reflection in the mirror to remind myself I was still real.

Astarion remembers so little of his face that he can't remember if he ever had a mole on his cheek or not. He can't remember the color of his own EYES. For as much as fans talk about the angst of him not being able to remember his own eyes I don't know if any of us could even imagine forgetting oneself so completely that such a defining physical characteristic is lost to memory. It's difficult to imagine as beings with limited lifespans. And imagine the added torment of being forced to use your looks to survive all while never being able to actually see yourself. (This is why I can't help but feel a bit annoyed when people say things like "Well it's a GOOD thing he can't see himself, can you imagine how annoying he would be?" Like sorry you find 'petty vanity' annoying, it still doesn't mean he deserved to have his sense of self-perception stripped away).

So much of him was killed in the process over those two hundred years of abuse and neglect in order to survive. I think it's fair to say Astarion likely wasn't a saint before he was turned by Cazador but we do know at one point there WAS a kind, sympathetic part of himself that took pity on that young man he spared. A part that I'm sure had to be killed in order for Astarion to survive and remain sane. And in ALL that time there was never once any moment where he could look at himself in the mirror and tell himself that he was still himself.

He lost everything, even the memory of his own eye color. But he wouldn't allow himself to be lost completely. He still talked back. Still screamed the loudest when tortured. Still held onto his anger, his rage his burning desire for revenge. And when he gets the opportunity to take his freedom he fucking LEAPS for it. He is so bound and determined to STAY free once he is free he would literally rather die than go back to Cazador. He's a survivor above all else and I love him so much.

[osmanthus-wine-addiction]

13 Spanking

Zhongli x Reader / SFW / Modern AU because computers and keyboards exist / Fluff but slightly suggestive / Zhongli displays cat-like behaviors / Reader is a workaholic and refuses to go to sleep

You had been typing away at your keyboard for hours now. The steady click-clacking of the keys were the only sounds breaking the soft rain hitting the windows. You stopped to reach for your coffee mug, taking a sip.

Zhongli stirred, peering up at you with his bright amber eyes. He had fallen asleep, curled up in your lap. Your slight movement had interrupted his rest, which he wasn't pleased with, but he was more upset that you were working late yet again.

You assured him that you were almost done. He had been in bed, waiting for you to join him. To hold you to your word, he had no choice but to shift into his miniature form and plant himself right beside your monitor.

"You're too distracting! Come here!" You said, picking him up by the waist and placing him in your lap instead. "How am I going to get anything done with you staring me down?"

Whenever he takes this form, you can never supress the urge to smother him silly. The tuff of fur encircling his neck was surprisingly soft, always tempting you to burying your face in it. He was also the perfect size for cuddling.

Before you found out he had a miniature form, your lover would often lay his head across your lap whenever he found you in bed. You missed having something small to hold onto and pet while indulging in your favorite novel.

"Are you sure you aren't part-cat, Zhongli? Or does the purring come from your Qilin half?" You recall yourself asking while curled up in bed with your lover one night. The content rumbling he produced whenever you stroked his hair was always a source of comfort for you. "Is there any way you can shrink yourself down?"

The delighted squeal you let out when he first transformed into this form for you was precious to him, encouraging him to take this form whenever he got the chance. You quickly decided that out of all his forms, this tiny dragon form was your favorite beside his current human form. Not only could you squish him in your arms and twirl him in the air, you could even wrap him around your neck when you were cold.

"Just ten more minutes." You barter with him.

Zhongli gave you a little growl of disapproval. You could tell your lover was obviously upset with you, but because he looked so adorable, you didn't feel the pressure to drop everything and go to sleep like he expected you to.

"I really have to finish this. Be patient with me, Zhongli." You reassured him.

That was two hours ago. You had still not finished and he was not having it. An agreement was an agreement. You were not upholding your end of it.

Zhongli leapt up on your desk, plopping himself right on top of your keyboard. Immediately, a string of incoherent text appeared on your document, continuing to run on because of the constant weight.

"Please get off my keyboard." You narrowed your eyes at him.

Zhongli simply laid there, licking his paws. Since your lover was acting like a cat, completely disregarding you, you had no choice but to treat him like a cat. Without allowing him any time to retaliate, you grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and plucked him off your keyboard.

You placed Zhongli on your lap again, but didn't let go of his neck. With your free hand, you slapped that perky little butt of his. Zhongli jolted when the blow landed. His head whipped around and his large round eyes connected with yours in disbelief. Did what he think just happened actually happen? The tuff of fur at the end of his tail swayed back and forth in the air. You raised your hand to spank him again. His small body immediately tensed up, tail twitching.

"That's for being a pain in the butt."

Another firm slap landed on his bum. It wasn't a very hard spank, barely causing a sting. It only managed to ruffle his fur, but he couldn't do much to retaliate since you had a firm hold on the scruff of his neck. When you raised your hand a third time, Zhongli finally lost it, wiggling and thrashing in your grasp like a scaley little worm. In all his six thousand years of living, he had never been spanked before.

"Are you going to let me finish my work now?" You threatened in a sweet, soft voice.

Zhongli growled softly, his little body trembling in your lap. This was the only form of his that you could exert any sort of physical force on. In all his other forms, he could easily overpower you. If he were in his human form, you would already be pinned against your bed, trapped underneath his body. In his dragon form, he didn't even need to use his entire body to keep you away from your keyboard. One clawed foot would be enough.

"I'm really almost done, Zhongli. I promise I'm not pulling another all-nighter." You sighed, feeling a bit guilty for treating him like he was the unreasonable one. He was just concerned. "Just let me finish and I'll let you go."

Zhongli gave a begrudged nod and you released the scruff of his neck. He rose up on his hind legs, paws resting against your chest as he leaned forward. A small smile spread across your lips as he smothered your face with little licks before leaping off your lap and making his way towards your bed.

"You've had a long day too. Just go to sleep without me." You urged him.

While you resumed typing away on your keyboard, Zhongli's voice drifted over from the bed behind you.

"I would much rather wait until you finish."

You didn't think much of his words, mind focused on wrapping up your work. Like you claimed, you got it all done in less than ten minutes. A big yawn escaped you as you stretched your limbs out and climbed out of your chair. Zhongli was in human form again, back leaning against your headboard. The pajamas loosely draped over his frame matched yours. You climbed onto the bed and snuggled up beside him.

"Did you think I would allow you to sleep without serving your punishment?" His deep voice sounded from above you.

Your drooping eyelids snapped wide open at his words. Of course Zhongli would have some sort of retribution in store for you. He wouldn't be the God of Contracts if he just let you off the hook. You bit your lip, meeting his expectant gaze while sitting up in the bed.

"Do you need me to tell you what to do, darling?" He asked in that same soft tone you used on him while holding him down by the scruff of his neck.

Without a word, you pulled down your pajama pants, bending over across his lap. Your plush bottom was shamelessly perked up in the air, waiting for Zhongli's hand to strike. Your face was red from just the thought of being spanked by him. How hard would he hit you? You were actually quite gentle with your slaps earlier so perhaps he wouldn't—

"Ah!" You yelped as the first blow landed.

It stung more than you expected. The area where his palm landed, your skin tingled. You held your breath as your body tensed. Your thighs pressed against each other in anticipation for the next slap.

You winced as he spanked you a second time. The faint pink that the last slap left behind had not yet faded. Another handprint bloomed over the same spot, further deepening the color. You pressed your legs tighter together.

Zhongli traced the outline of his palm on your skin. He took his time, tenderly caressing the red mark as if he was not the one who had created it. The color contrasted vibrantly from the skin around it. A crisp sound echoed through the room as his hand came down a third time.

"Ah!" You cried out, but this time it sounded more like a moan.

Your face was almost as flushed as your bum. Heat licked between your legs everytime his palm made contact with your sensitive flesh. You buried your face in the sheets, embarrassed. Slick coated your panties, glaring evidence that you were indeed getting turned on by his spanking.

"Hmm…" He noticed your odd reaction. "Perhaps this is not a suitable punishment for you."

"Can I go to sleep now?" You asked, praying he was just as tired as you were.

"You've stayed up long enough, darling. Rest well."

A relieved breath expelled from your lips as you climbed off his lap.

He hooked a finger over your waistband, stopping you before you could pull up your pants. "Perhaps you could use a change." He remarked, eyeing the bit of soaked fabric between your legs.

"Whose fault is it?" You slapped Zhongli's hand away and scurried off towards your closet.

"Certainly not mines." He chuckled.

"Can you turn back?" You whispered as Zhongli gathered you in his arms underneath the sheets.

"If you promise to be nice." He hummed.

"I'm always nice to you, even when I'm being mean."

Your lover's body shrunk in a cloud of golden dust. You immediately grabbed the poor creature that appeared and pressed him against your chest, smothering him aggressively. The sound of rain pitter-pattering against the windowsill faded into a comforting tapestry of white noise, weaving together with the sound of soft purring.

[ellieslittleburrow]

Requested by : @whats-goingon22 : John Winchester comes back to find a fully grown daughter he does not recognize. How do they both react, knowing that John Winchester was never a good father? (Full request)

Warnings : Swear words, death of a father, and a heartbreak?

A/N : i'm so sorry 😂😭🤍 i've been wanting to develop my writing style and so writing the way " i do" has been sooo torturous. It's like you want out of your skin but you're stuck into it.

-------

John winchester is the ghost of your life. The fruit of one too many dreams to count.

He existed more in your sleep than he ever did in your physical life. He, in the most literal of ways shaped you, the person you are now- a blessing in some cases but mostly a curse. He was definitely In your life. Just never in a happy way, though.

The itsy bits of life you've shared with him went from dada, to daddy to father and then to sir!

One specific moment haunted you, a moment that came to look different as you grew older. Your father had you cradled in his arms, he'd held you tightly as tears streamed down your cheeks. He'd shushed you and held you tightly before turning on his heels and leaving. You'd thought you hurt him to the point that he couldn't face you anymore, but the reality of that moment was that John Winchester couldn't bear the face of terror, even on a child.

He couldn't bear the vulnerability of a child. He left because he was ashamed of your humanity.

A humanity that faded as the years went by- Even when he was still around. You could never be yourself around him and soon enough you forgot how to be yourself, how to feel. You lost a part of yourself that completely dissapeared with John's death.

But still, Just the thought of him elevated the hairs on your arms-and you thought about him a lot-it worked your stomach up in a way nothing else could have. It would stiffen your mucles and somehow work it's way to your intestines, twisting them in knots.

It physically and mentally hurt. Always. fucking. have.

But now, as you stood before him at the bottom of the bunker stairs, a different kind of pain surged through you, one you've never experienced before. Because as much as you wished you'd see him-you actually never thought you would. But there he was standing before you.

John Winchester.

------

You walked down the bunker stairs, your ears pricking up to an...ambiguously familiar voice.

"Hey-"

Sam abruptly shot up from his seat, jolting your fight or flight response in the process. Curiously pushed you forward as you walked the last steps, startling when your eyes landed on him-the fourth person in the room.

And you wished they hadn't. Because as your heart pounded in your chest, you froze, you completely froze.

The bunker went quiet and....Da....D...J-Jo-John seemed to be just as confused as you were. Just as shocked.

It felt wrong seeing him, saying his name-looking at him. He looked older, somewhat wiser. His face worn down by the traces of his fights, haunting his every feature. He watched you just as you watched him back, mouth agape-

All those things you'd said to him in your dreams. All the fights you'd had with him about how badly he treated you. About the emptiness he left within you. The constant look out for that fatherly love you'd so desperately hunted for. Nowhere, because your voice had failed you.

Just then, you noticed that your chest was heaving and you...You couldn't. You couldn't be here anymore-you...You needed to breathe. And so you took off running.

The silence in your room felt hauntingly suffocating as it allowed your thoughts overflow. And you realized then- You've never ever gotten over it. Having Sam and Dean was nothing less than a blessing. But they could never seal the hole left aching.

But...but he looked different and you...you...he's here and...Maybe you should...

You leaped off bed and sprinted to the door, sticking your ear to the latter. Their voices were quite drowned but... They suddenly went quiet. Does that mean...Does that mean he's leaving again?

No...No..NO.

As you flung open the door, an "I'm ready" from the other side of the hallway caused adrenaline to rush through you. And you sprinted.

"DADDY"

A loud shout surged from your throat as you rounded the last corner, crashing into your father's arms just as a loud thump echoed throughout the room.

Sam crushing the pearl only had you grip your father's jacket tight. As if your embrace could keep him in place. Like an achor in an angry sea.

Your dad envelopped you just as tightly, each hand gripping the opposite shoulder. A firm hold-one that would usually hurt-but instead, one that only felt like a plea for forgiveness, for all the wrong doings, for the void.

But then, just like that, all the weight around your body, the weight you leaned onto vanished. And you felt light again, a physical lightness that complemented the heaviness consuming you.

You fell to the ground, just as your whole world collapsed. All those walls you build to protect yourself, all that strength you dug from god knows where. All gone.

Your chest swelled and an ugly sob broke free of you, followed by a pool of tears that begged the question : am i happy or am i sad?

As you lie there, overwhelmed, another figure leaned over you, holding you in a protective embrace, murmuring words that outpaced your own thoughts.

And although you were lost, you knew for sure that-you finally had your goodbye.

-----

Hii! What do we thiiink ? Hope yall enjoyed this and see you next tiime!🖤🖤🖤🥀🥀🥀

[milkb0nny]

🤍 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒂𝒅 𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖

characters: Alhaitham, Dan Heng, Blade, Sampo Koski

content: soft angst, good endings, gn!/reader

warning: mention of harsh language, drinking, not proofread

🍃... 𝑨𝒍𝒉𝒂𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒎

▫️ It doesn’t take much to annoy him since he despises when he gets bothered reading and just weird sounds alone throw him off. You do know that but at some days you’re not too aware of his bad mood.

▫️It starts with him ignoring you, trying to focus on whatever he’s doing but the fact he’s actively trying to ignore you makes it worse. You’ll notice he grunts in dissatisfaction or completely avoids you. When you ask him what’s up with him, he might blow up.

▫️ He’s dislikes yelling at you and therefore he simply doesn’t. He dislikes when people yell at him since he feels like a child that just broke a plate. In his mind yelling isn’t a solution. He'll tell you his issues in other way such as very harsh and cold words.

▫️Most of the time he's annoyed or mad it isn't actually you who caused it. Alhaitham struggles to find right moments to discuss emotions and maybe lets his anger slip.

▫️You're often questioning yourself being a nuisance when he shoves his madness in your face. The moment he notices you hating yourself he feels sorry. It's not your fault he has a hidden short temper.

▫️Alhaitham feels sorry afterwards since he usually ends up saying hurtful things when mad. He never intends to harm you and it pains him seeing you hurt over his silly emotions. To make up for it he will apologize with small gestures.

🍃... 𝑫𝒂𝒏 𝑯𝒆𝒏𝒈

▫️Dan Heng gets constantly annoyed by March and is used to have a constant nuisance sticking on him. His border from annoyed to mad is pretty high up and it's hard to actually drive him crazy. His clam attitude is nearly impossible to provoke.

▫️At times there are bad days though where Dan Heng can't handle anyone and anything. Alone the thought of March jumping in his room to show him some of the newest trends is a bother to him. These days he shuts himself in his room to read in peace.

▫️With that being said it's quite hard for you to make him angry. He usually keeps everything in himself until he can't handle it. When that happens you're not allowed to be around him. The answer is quite simple: he doesn't want to hurt you because others made him crazy.

▫️Maybe it hurts you to avoid Dan Heng, your loved one, all day. On the other hand it shows his care for you and how afraid he is to lose you due to some irrational feelings.

▫️Dan Heng gets angry, not very angry but a little angry, whenever a book of him gets destroyed. If you accidentally spill coffee on his limited edition astrology book he gets angry with you. It won't last long as the both of you know it is an accident but books are very important to him.

▫️The same goes for his clothes. Dan Heng isn't the tidiest but dirt on his clothes make him feel incredibly uncomfortable. You have to count in some mad side eyes if you make his clothes dirty.

🍃... 𝑩𝒍𝒂𝒅𝒆

▫️Oh dear it is not a good idea to wake the anger inside of him. Blade has a short temper especially when his strength or authority gets questioned. He hates it when others look down on him. So you better not even make a joke about his lacking skills (which he does have).

▫️He isn't a violent man but a loud man. Yes, he will shout at you, not understanding why you're so incapable of doing things and he will be very hurtful. It is a rare occurrence though. When you start crying or distancing yourself he immediately falls in panic.

▫️Most of the time he'll show annoyance whenever you don't follow his instructions. He's not controlling but when you go into a fight that isn't made for you and you get hurt, he does get angry with you. In other cases it's you being mindless about your health or too easy with people who are obviously trying to manipulate you.

▫️Blade dislikes whenever you don't take yourself serious and end up getting hurt by bullshit people. His anger overtakes him sometimes. You could say his anger is a product of worry and annoyance.

▫️You need to grow a little cold when he's mad at you and yells. It's something he has to get out somehow and you need to protect yourself from stupid statements he says. Afterwards he'll be apologizing so much.

▫️You shouldn't play with his emotions. It won't turn out pretty but after all he is a great man and his only goal is to protect you.

🍃... 𝑺𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒐 𝑲𝒐𝒔𝒌𝒊

▫️You don't notice when he's mad. Is he really? Or just a little annoyed? It is a hard mission to look through his laid back facade. Most of the time you won't even notice.

▫️The causes of his inner trouble are rather trivial: you get hurt, you leave him on read, you make him feel lonely because of lacking affection. These are all things you may not notice here and there but to Sampo they're very important.

▫️So in cases of madness and sorrow he visits a local Pub or the fight club to have one or two drinks. Alcohol helps him with processing his emotions. He wouldn't dare to let his anger slip through you. It's not his personality and Sampo knows anger can hurt everyone severely.

▫️The evenings he spends in the pub and not with you, you do question what you did wrong. To make up for it you prepare some little surprises but what more can you do if he doesn't express his feelings towards you? It is a hardship and both of you have to overcome some barriers.

▫️Sampo knows that alcohol never truly solves the issues but to him it's a way to deal with it. It takes him some time to give in his emotions and let them roam freely. In the end is afraid to hurt you or make the situation worse.

▫️When he gets home and sees you're little tries to make it up to him he tears up and falls in your arms. He's an easy boyfriend and sometimes needs extra love or else he'll struggle.

Please reblog, like and support!🤍

[yan-lorkai]

Hello! If I’ve understood correctly your requests are open. I would like to request the demon brothers from Obey Me! with a reader that just bites *everything*. Gentle love bites when happy, chomping in the air torwards a person in a ‘threatening’ manner if angry or upset, chewing random things when bored or stressed and so on. Thank you for reading this and have a great day and or night!^^

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: Yep yep, requests are always open so dw! I gotta say this whole rq is a big mood bcs when I was kid I always bit my friends, idk why tho lol. Oh and sorry for the little delay, hope you like this and have a good day / night as well!!! 〜⁠(⁠꒪⁠꒳⁠꒪⁠)⁠〜

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warnings: Yandere content, can be seen as platonic or romantic.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Devildom was completely strange, but Lucifer was used to its strangeness. What he wasn't used to was your peculiar habit of biting anything. If you were happy you bit him, if you were sad you threatened to bite him, chomping the air towards him. One way or another he got bitten and Lucifer, well, how could he stop you when you were so cute? He loves your little bites, he loves how you look so proud when you got to bite him.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Lucifer finds your behavior irritating when you two first meet. But as time passes and you get closer, he starts secretly hoping for more of your little bites and becomes incredibly frustrated if you don't bite him. However he will never admit this or the fact that he feels jealous if you bite one of his brothers instead of him. You should bite only him, little darling human. If you don't bite him then he's gonna bite you, harder.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ He does give you a little chew toy so you don't get anxious when you can't bite him or the others, though.

⠀

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ While Lucifer doesn't care about your habit, Mammon feels he needs to be on constant vigilance to avoid being bitten. Or that's what he says to himself, because he's the easiest of the brothers to bite, so carefree, so funny when he gets scared and screams.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ The avatar of greed remembers when you first bit him. The soft smile that dominated your face as you approached him - he should have known something was about to happen, but how was he supposed to know? He didn't know you were actually going to bite him, he totally didn't expect a kiss from you only to receive a painful bite on the neck. But he can't stay angry, Mammon sincerely loves your little habit, this is how you seem to show your affection to him and absolutely loves it.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ And if you ever left marks on him, he would wear them with honor no matter who saw them, you are his and he is yours.

⠀⠀

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Levi is naturally more reserved and fearful, if you bite him he will get scared and hide in his room. He knows, after observing your habits for a bit, that it's something you do because you feel comfortable and express yourself that way, also because you really like to bite everything. So far he saw you bite into a pillow, your plate, Mammon's belly and you always seem to have fun.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ But he turns into an anxious mess every time you bite him or threaten him, chomping the air and making sounds with your mouth, when he is caught off guard by you and your sudden bites.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ The solution he found so he doesn't get scared and you don't get frustrated is to give you a chew toy to use every time you spend time with him. If you still want to bite him just let him know beforehand. He doesn't mind, your bite doesn't hurt, in fact it's kind of cute watching you bite his hand and arm, he blushes every time you do it.

⠀

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Satan likes his personal space and having you invade it can be annoying, but more times than not he allows you to gently bite him, seeing your smile causes strange feelings in him. Plus, you remind him of a playful little kitten and he loves it, headpetting you while he reads to you and receive your littles bites. By the way I can see him buying cat ears and forcing asking very nicely for you to wear them when you spend time together.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Would encourage you to bite his brothers (mainly Lucifer) when all of you are in public, and later on he would shield you from any punishment that may come from his father older brother.

⠀

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Asmo, well... Asmo prefers to receive other types of bites. Ones that last longer and stain his skin, if you know what I mean. But that's just what he prefers, Asmo naturally encourages his habit. He loves the attention he gets and you love having someone to bite, win-win!

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ I feel like he has several photos of you biting him compiled in a secret folder seen only by his eyes. Some of them he posts on Devilgram and laughs at the jealous comments of his followers who wanted to be you, others he shows to his brothers. After all, there are seven of them but he is the one you chose, that must mean something <3.

⠀⠀

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Beelzebub finds your habit a little strange and he thinks if every human is like that, but he doesn't mind it at all. In fact, he encourages you to bite him whenever you are happy or as an agreement, every now and then he challenges you to see who bites the most, however, Beel never bites you hard enough to break skin.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ He wants to make you laugh, not hurt you and he knows he could very well take your head off with the strength of his jaw. But he won't. He loves you too much for that, but the threat is implicit and you know that if one day you try to run away from him and his family or something, he could very well bite you and tear your body apart.

⠀⠀

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Belphegor finds your habit funny, just as someone finds a puppy learning to walk or bark funny. More times than he should, Belphie finds himself imitating your mannerisms, biting the air when he's frustrated or biting whatever is in his reach while he sleeps. He can't help but imitate you since he feels it makes you two closer, specially after what happened.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ The other brothers may like this and think it's cute, but it's Belphie who really feels his heart stop every time your teeth close over his arm, his neck, or even his cheek. Pink rises to his face and he pulls you closer, letting you bite him all over while he does the same to you.

[lilacxquartz]

Don't Make Me Feel Alive I Chapter 7

kenjaku x f!reader

chapter summary: as his own feelings for you become clear, the more he wants to keep you away from everything and everyone else.

warnings: threats of violence, dubcon

< Previous Chapter • Next Chapter >

7. Electrify

As the week continued to pass you by, you found yourself feeling all the more confused regarding his treatment towards you.

Kenjaku’s initially teasing personality managed to fade into something resembling cold indifference and just as you got used to that side, he once again settled back into something warmer again.

Leaving you completely and utterly confused.

And even while you remained alive just as he had promised, his actions left you feeling just a bit… uncertain?

As such, even despite what he had done to you—you started to develop feelings of something that you probably shouldn’t dare explore, finding that he played the role of a caretaker a little too well for your liking.

Was there something wrong with you for not hating him more than you did? It wasn’t that you were head over heels for him, since even just seeing his cold dead eyes watch over yours made your skin crawl and your senses dry heave, but… there was something beyond that sense that you couldn’t quite grasp.

Such masterful management and knowledge of your illness which otherwise threatened to consume you, proved surprisingly helpful and that was doing strange things to your head.

He hurt you but he also took the pain away.

With that, the week then finally slowly concluded while he continued to conduct experiments on you, testing the recovery times of your waning condition, leaving you feeling conflicted in your own building confusion.

(And his too.)

The experiments continued to reduce only to be replaced with subtle acts of affection, which left you feeling equal parts disgusted as well as strangely wanted. Things like his hand lightly brushing against your shoulder when he would pass you by or how he would gently move your hair out of your face while you rested. Things like ensuring you would stay warm, especially as your condition gradually worsened.

And as he noticed this—his hands so warm against your own, he couldn’t help but shake the feeling that this whole project of his was doomed to fail. Regardless of what he did, the battery only prolonged your life, doing nothing to actually stall the condition.

In short, you were alive but you shouldn’t have been. Realistically, you should have been dead by now if you didn’t have the pendant.

Such a realisation of what must have been a constant state of pain for you stopped him in his tracks momentarily, understanding that regardless of what he did, that you might not make it, after all.

And for the first time in a long while, he didn’t like that outcome, not wanting specifically you to die.

Making another decision, he decided to seldom complete the rest of the tasks leftover for the month, in turn leaving you behind for the remainder of it with only some occasional visits, testing to see if this would improve your condition.

(Maybe it was something to do with him, he thought, so what if he removed himself from the picture…?)

This decision of his left you feeling even more uncertain but at least this sort of life was one you were familiar with already; it was strangely similar to the same sort of routine that you had back at the hospital except this time your surroundings felt more personal.

Nobody else had access to the location he kept you so safely tucked away within so even while left alone, you would very unlikely meet with another soul—locking you away in what seemed to be the perfect prison, providing both optimal protection while allowing you to rest without any interruption.

Food, however, was taken care of by an associate, leaving you behind meals at the front door. Just one other person had access with a key and was given a specific instruction to do it discreetly and to never talk to you, lest their head end up served on a platter instead.

And as the month continued to close to an end, Kenjaku found that his own feelings towards you didn’t waver a single bit, the sense of emotional investment running abundantly strong.

Staring at your worsened state, he found himself feeling frustrated as your condition continued to deteriorate.

“Disappointing,” he muttered.

You didn’t reply to him as he continued to focus his sights over your body, hiding his concern quite well. He learned how to mask his feelings over the course of the past millennia; people come and go, after all.

(And all in the blink of an eye.)

But there was just something about you.

“I’d like to try something with you,” he spoke up again after a while, taking his hands off of you as he took a step back. He decided to actually go forward with the plan he had earlier in mind, refusing to admit defeat in your potential just yet.

“Try what…?” you asked, your tone laced with worry. He was being hurtful and your mind immediately jumped to something perverse.

He looked over at your body, noticing your lack of muscle mass (which only further fed into your unease), finding that while you did look better than you did at the hospital, you were nowhere near the usual standard of a fit sorcerer.

“You can’t fight, right?” he asked you.

“I can’t,” you confirmed, sounding slightly relieved that the direction of the conversation didn’t sound sexual after all.

Kenjaku simply nodded in response as he suspected as much, feeling disappointed even though his smile did not reveal his true feelings. He scrapped the plan in his mind to have you involved with any sort of combat, even if he did intend to keep you around as a trump card—deciding that he would only do so if all other options had run out, knowing that fully utilising your technique would very likely kill you.

So instead of involving you in direct combat, he chose to explore alternative uses of your technique instead, thinking back to when you had no issue during the time spent training bursts of it earlier on in the year. Electricity was versatile, after all, so he could simply tweak your technique to be supportive rather than offensive instead.

“Try to shock me using as little energy as you can,” he suggested, not wanting to damage his own body either while also wanting to see if you were capable of accomplishing what he had in mind.

You nodded in response, feeling him unlock the limitations of your technique. The sparks of it manifesting through what felt like your literal bloodstream as you focused your cursed energy. You continued to lock your hands into a sign, channelling a small surge that he chose to not intercept, instead assessing its potency.

His skin numbed briefly as a tingling sensation washed over his body, however only temporarily. This was enough to give him an idea with how to finalise your potential; still rendering you useful which will have meant that this whole experiment wasn’t a waste of time, at least not completely.

“Did that drain your energy at all?” Kenjaku asked you, his eyes locked on the stone.

“No,” you replied.

A smile returned onto Kenjaku’s lips as he finally relaxed, his curiosity peaking as he desired to hone your capabilities further, seeming to shift his mood into something playful at last.

“Could you channel the electricity a little higher then?” he asked, trying to push you past your boundaries in a safely conducted manner, ready to intercept your attack if you misinterpreted his request as an instruction to demonstrate, but you never did.

“I-I can,” you confirmed with a slightly shaky tone, “but no more than what we practised.”

“In the future, I’d like for you to try and see if you could focus the electricity to connect at a directed point, such as a hand or a leg rather than aiming for the core,” he explained, having an idea.

He spoke in a gentler tone with you that time, not wanting to subject you to mockery just yet. He was capable of kindness, but he was just… selective with who he showed it to.

There was fake kindness and then there was the real thing. Most of the people who crossed his path would get a taste of something fabricated, while maybe just a few would get something genuine.

(And you were one of the very few.)

“I could try,” you replied, however sceptical of its effectiveness, “would that be enough, though?”

“It might be,” he speculated, “from what I can understand about your technique’s use from before, you could only execute quick bursts on your opponents so the shock never lasted,” his volume increasing, excited to flesh out his plans, “so, if you could channel a slower, maybe more of a deliberate shock… then you could likely get away with causing some serious nerve damage.”

“So I’m basically a taser?” you asked, attempting to keep up to speed with his explanations.

“Something like it,” Kenjaku smiled, amused by your comparison, “if you could cause weakness or numbness in your opponents, if even temporarily, then you would be a huge help.”

“And this wouldn’t be stopped by my opponents?” you asked, not quite buying its effectiveness.

“We can work on the speed of your attacks later on,” he reassured, “as long as you can protect yourself from both a distance as well as up close, then you can still be quite powerful.”

“I-I see… so in the end the physical training was pointless…” you sighed.

“Ah-ah,” Kenjaku shook his head, “I taught you how to amplify your reflexes, rest assured that while you’re not fighting head on, that you will have a role. While knowing how to intercept physical danger.”

You nodded once again as you understood your involvement in his plans a little clearer now; your role essentially being a deterant.

Still, you remained uncomfortable with the prospect of helping him, knowing that he was likely up to something potentially devastating, unable to trust him at all after he had hurt you, even if he did fulfill his promise to keep you alive.

It wasn’t as though you had a choice with your involvement either way, so you tried your best to endure what you could manage while your mind pushed the remaining troubling reality away.

Kenjaku continued to swat away at the bursts of energy you kept feeding him, carefully observing your energy output as he did so. He mentally noted that these attacks, while small, were powerful and kept you still grounded on your feet—so that much was already a success.

Whether or not he would choose to have you take on a combative role in the future come autumn, he figured that you should keep practising maintaining control of your energy regardless. It didn’t matter how much rest you got as your condition would continue to develop either way, so you might as well strengthen yourself where you could. The battery would keep you alive in the process either way; just as long as you didn’t fully deplete it.

And as the energy from the pendant finally drained itself to its lowest limit, sleep followed suit, finding that you could last a surprisingly long time if you managed your technique efficiently. Just as he promised you. This proved to be a breakthrough, both to him as well as you because for the first time in years, you could control something that you had to give up so long ago.

Kenjaku meanwhile felt himself grow further attached to you, seeing you as his prized project and maybe even as his property, understanding that he didn’t quite see you as an equal, let alone as your own person because the achievements you had accomplished were forged from his own hand.

As such, that longing hunger seemed to return again, wanting nothing more than to claim your body as his own again and again, equal parts pride clouded by a desire that he once more couldn’t get enough of.

He continued to stare at you as you slept, that familiar returning. Kenjaku already knew fully well that you couldn’t stop him if he woke you up but at the same time, he longed for something slightly different.

This time he wanted to relieve tension.

Tension that you caused from being so unpredictable with your success.

And for that, he required your cooperation.

Gently, he nudged you awake; tracing circles around your skin with his lingering fingertips, slowly pushing you back into a waking state. He noticed that the amulet wasn’t completely dim just yet, so in his eyes that was just enough energy for you to spare.

Kenjaku moved himself closer as he sat by you. His palms moving over your shoulder and sweeping your hair out of the way. His fingers clasped around your scalp, getting a feel for how you felt completely in his grasp.

Locking your head into place, he guided you slowly over his lap. Bless your heart as you tried to resist, but he didn’t let you go.

Tightening his fingers around your skull, he lowered his voice, “Consider it as helping me.”

That particular feeling of dread returned and the guilt combined while he proceeded to pull you by the hair to meet with his inner lap. Your eyes widened into clear lucidity as he parted his robe, presenting you with his thickened length; the tip throbbing; leaking precum in its excited state.

You understood what he wanted for you to do right away as he drew you closer to meet with his twitching cock. You mentally recoiled as you felt it poke against your lips, not even daring to look up to face the look of contempt he was likely giving you.

Initially, you resisted by daring to pull away but he didn’t let you. His fists closed as he pulled at your hair, the strands burning your skull as he tugged tight. You reluctantly surrendered and opened up your mouth when the pain became unbearable, feeling the sickening sensation of his meat pushing against your tongue, sliding into your mouth.

Kenjaku leaned back as his legs widened; his head tilting back in pleasure. He bounced your head to suck at a preferred speed, his black eyes slowly following down to stare blankly at the sight before him. He never let you see it, but a slight smile tugged at his lips as he watched you gag on his dick; enjoying the sight you gave him.

You continued to reluctantly continued to give into his needs and he eased the pressure by continuing to guide you while rhymically thrusting upwards; feeling your throat envelop his shaft—your body began to however struggle; your eyes beginning to water as he rammed himself as far as he could to dominate you.

Through this whole thing, he remained silent on purpose. He wanted to hear you sing for him through the noises of your struggling gagging to fill out the otherwise silent room.

Eventually though, his grip on the bedsheets seemed to tighten as a violent release approached. It was a pity he couldn’t last longer, he thought, but this was from a spur of passion, he supposed. He did try to keep your mouth occupied for as long as he could help it though, not quite caring in the heat of the moment if you could properly breathe or not.

Quickening the pace a final time; a seething gasp followed by a strained grunt escaped his lips at last. His stomach tightened as he continued to force your head down a final time, burying his cock in you while keeping his hands trained on your neck, squeezing it ever so slightly before completely, emptying himself into before finally allowing you to rest.

His body reeled as electrified currents coursed through while thick loads shot out of him and into you. He helped dislodge you from his length as a trail of webbed cum, mixing with saliva followed, spilling even more from you coughing in the aftermath.

Feeling satisfied, he sat there for a moment longer to recover. His hands ran affectionately this time through your hair, the corners of his mouth anchoring into a frown when he felt you flinch away.

Keeping you close to him anyway even as the mess continued to cling onto your chin; something stirred within him as he slowly surrendered himself into deep thought. Pulling your hair slightly back so that he could look you in the eyes, his old barren pupils studied you, searching for something else.

Initially like before, you instinctively averted your gaze. Kenjaku took that however as a sign of submission, seeming to answer what he was seeking out from you.

A dangerous thought formed in his mind as a result.

“[Name],” he spoke, not asking you for your attention but instead directly demanding it.

He moved his hands deliberately over to your neck as he spoke, keeping his fingers wrapped right around your throat while he choked you with just a bit more pressure than before.

You gasped in response as your breath hitched, your words immediately silenced with how he held onto you. He smiled as he noticed that but then his expression turned vacant again.

“If you ever do this sort of thing with anyone else, ever again, just know that I won’t hesitate to kill you,” he lied, flashing a playful smile, although he would hurt you if you did so, wanting for you to understand exactly what your place with him now was.

You tried to reply but then his hands tightened, suppressing every little sound.

“Do you understand what I’m asking from you?” he added, wanting for you to express loyalty to him. For some reason, he felt disgusted at the prospect of sharing your body with others.

You tried nodding in agreement instead, even if this whole thing wasn’t consensual to begin with. Not the first time and certainly not the second time either.

Feeling you do just that, Kenjaku’s gaze then intensified, releasing you from his intense confinement.

“Correct choice,” he smiled, his demeanour thawing as the pressure wafted away, seeming almost playful again. He then let you go, encouraging you to go and get yourself cleaned up at last.

However, you were now completely exhausted as the pendant waned so you couldn’t really do anything other than just exist. You managed to wash up but your stride wobbled and your steps didn’t quite connect on the way back.

“Are you able to walk at all?” he asked you, grabbing onto your hand as he noticed you stumble, “I’m needed somewhere soon, so I’d like for you to come with me, if possible.”

“Not yet,” you warily replied, your voice shaking as you spoke.

“Sleep a bit then,” he said this time, offering you that same sort of confusing warmth despite what he just did to you, “I’ll wake you up in a bit.”

***

He kept to his promise as you felt a hand nudge at your shoulders, prompting you to awake a second time. Initially you flinched, backing away just in case he wanted something more from you before remembering the reason.

It was still dark outside, but he relented as he coaxed you out of bed and got you to look slightly more presentable before leading you right outside.

“I’m tired,” you mumbled to yourself, despite the pendant looking brighter than before. As long as it was glowing, you had no excuse, “where are we going…?”

“A meeting like before,” he replied, choosing to honour his promise of letting you know more about his plans if you really wanted to, “you don’t have to participate but you can listen in.”

“With the uh, group—the group that, the group that-“ you tried to reply, your mind still clouded with the remnants of sleep.

“Mahito’s group, yes, the cursed spirit alliance,” Kenjaku replied, confirming what you failed to say.

“Do I have to work with them?” you asked, seeking clarification because why else would he have you meet with them again. It felt weird talking to him as if nothing had happened earlier on, but you didn’t really have a choice.

“No,” he replied bluntly.

“Then why-“

“—to understand your place as well as to understand theirs,” he interjected.

You yawned again as the rest of the walk passed by in silence, Kenjaku finally slowing the pace as you had both reached your destination. The alliance loitered around in an abandoned factory this time with the patch-faced cursed spirit swinging around on what appeared to be broken machinery. The volcano-headed curse meanwhile simply sat idly by. The pale muscular curse was also present, seemingly mesmerised by a plant sprouting through the concrete while muttering in a language that you couldn’t understand.

Much like before, you had very little interest in participating in their meeting even if you did have an opportunity to listen in this time, choosing to wait in the shadows instead. This was the second time that you encountered the death painting who also seemed to be parked quite far as well.

Personally, Choso felt that his involvement in these talks wasn’t particularly needed as his role was to act on direction, not quite caring about either side’s ideals.

Kenjaku, on the other hand noticed this, not particularly enjoying seeing the two of you interact again, knowing how it made him feel the first time. He didn’t quite understand why you both seemed to get along and it irked him.

This was something you didn’t understand either, but you didn’t actually mind talking to Choso about his continued interest in humanity.

“What types of emotions do you feel daily?” the death painting continued to ask you, seeming genuinely curious to know what it meant to be truly human.

“It depends,” you replied in consideration, “most days it’s indifference, but that’s likely due to my illness. I think some people feel that way too even when they’re healthy though, or maybe just contentment. Maybe stress if they work or study. Maybe even anxiety to an extent.”

It felt strange explaining the fundamental concepts of emotions to someone who listened so intently, but you didn’t see any harm with letting him know such things.

Choso personally found that your answers carried a lot of weight for him, feeling more and more curious from each passing second that you spoke.

Then he caught onto a detail and his brows furrowed, his bruised complexion paling as he squinted his eyes, “Your illness?”

But then as he waited for your response, the meeting seemingly concluded and you were dragged away with Kenjaku before you could reply to him at all.

Choso watched with a hint of confusion as your company gradually disappeared from his sight, feeling frustrated that his questions were left unanswered once again.

Eventually returning back to where he kept you, Kenjaku felt that gnawing need to maintain your loyalty towards him surface again—invading a part of him that he refused to understand. To see you talk and even smile in the presence of someone else when you had never even warmed up to him the same way felt strangely… insulting?

As such, instead of reverting back to his cold demeanour, he chose to take a different approach with you instead. Even if this meant limiting your life even further, he didn’t care for the consequences as long as kept control of you.

“Don’t talk to them again,” Kenjaku spoke, pushing you down and watching you fall; your body meeting with the bed—not quite caring if you missed and hit the floor instead.

“To who…?” you asked in a state of confusion; the sudden anxiety draining the amulet sooner than you’d like. Suddenly you felt tired again. Weary, even and your eyelids dropped shut.

However, Kenjaku refused to let you sleep, forcing you to sit up as he loomed over you.

“Don’t even try to befriend any of them; their roles are too different from yours,” he continued to drill, keeping your attention focused on him, “you have their place and they have theirs, so don’t intervene.”

“I wasn’t intervening, though,” you replied.

“Then how do I put it lightly? Don’t even acknowledge their very existence.”

Internally, Kenjaku understood that what he was currently feeling was very likely a degree of jealousy, wondering yet again if this was fuelled by his vessel rather than his own mind, considering the notion of whether he would care or not if he inhabited anyone else.

Whatever it was, be it his own personality or the one intertwining with him, he stood by the belief of not wanting for you to interact with the cursed spirits, despite being the one who requested your attendance in the first place.

He seemed to take this issue more personally than he liked to admit, seeing any deviation as misunderstanding your role and mingling with his deceitful alliance as sabotage, even if it was an absurd conclusion.

This must have been your fault too, because if you actually listened to him and just did as he told without question (despite that being exactly what you were doing), then he wouldn’t be in this position with you to begin with.

Not thinking logically for a change, Kenjaku pushed your body even further into the mattress and kept your writhing body secured under his hand to deliver you a message instead; to ensure that you wouldn’t dare stray from what he brought you here to do so, even if he wasn’t quite sure himself what that truly meant anymore.

“Your only role is to stay and listen. You can understand that, right?” he asked you.

With an exasperated tone, you stuttered in a questioning voice, “Th-that’s what I’ve b-been doing…?”

“Incorrect, but you’ll learn,” he drilled, “don’t talk to anyone else.”

“But it wasn’t anything bad-“

Kenjaku interjected, his voice sharp as he cut you off, “—Did I stutter?”

“No…” you quietly replied in a sulk.

“Then use your ears for once and actually listen,” he spoke, his lips curving into a lighthearted smile which you felt was unsettling given the frightening context, “because if you continue to self-sabotage such an idiot-proof role, then I have no remaining use for you.”

You struggled to form a response while he now gently patted your head, smoothing your hair down your scalp.

“Don’t make me dispose of you just yet, because I absolutely would do so,” he warned you now, his voice deceptively playful, almost singing his words.

Finally, feeling the weight of what he was warning you with, you backed down and settled into agreement, nodding meekly as you took heed of his threat.

“But of course I’m just kidding, I wouldn’t do that to you just yet,” Kenjaku pushed at your cheeks, squishing your face together a little painfully, “because you’re going to behave… right?”

He nodded your head for you before you got a chance to respond; your eyes wide and staring at him, unsure how to keep up with his unpredictable nature.

“Right?” he asked you again, seeking reassurance as he pinched playfully at your skin.

“R-right,” you repeated as he continued to nod your head, ceasing in doing so after giving him the correct answer.

“Good… now, get some rest again,” he said, finally permitting for you to do so, letting go of your body and letting the pressure disperse.

You tried your best to fall asleep, finding that not even a minute had to pass for your body to finally give in. Was it fear? Nerves? You weren’t sure but you weren’t going to question your body giving you an out as you drifted off to sleep.

Kenjaku meanwhile stared straight down at you, feeling his stress finally subside while not fully understanding why he was still capable of feeling this way for people, given that he was otherwise content in idling his time spent on earth alone.

In fact, through his almost millennia of existence, he recalled that there were only very few people who ever had such an effect on him at all.

Thinking back to his insights earlier on, he speculated that his vessel didn’t even know you personally so there was no memory for him to be misinterpreting—so this must have been something genuine that had formed in the midst of his forced care for you. Finding that when you fulfilled his craving for power in the peak of your hyper-dependence, something else must have blossomed on his end.

(And whatever this feeling was, he enjoyed it, truth be told.)

It was then that it dawned on him that should the moment ever call for him to die, for whatever reason or cause, that he would take you down with him.

He thought this to be completely reasonable, finding chaotic logic under the understanding of if your life was only ongoing because you depended on him, then what right did you have to live without him?

In his mind he owned you, after all.

Your life was his own, not yours.

[maryse127]

List of changes I hope to see in Xenoblade X Definitive Edition :)

I am hopeful because last time we got a definitive edition Monolith adressed basically all my issues with the original

LARGER TEXT. For fuck's sake please. I love this game, I would love it even more if I could fucking read!

Better online servers. I have no experience with Nintendo Switch Online but please let the online be more stable. The constant disconnects were so annoying. Especially because the only way to reconnect was going back to the title screen and loading back in. Which took forever with the loading times.

I never got to experience the game during the Miiverse days so I hope they bring the Miiverse features back to some degree just like they did with Splatoon

Change it so that the flight music only kicks in after flying for about 10 seconds instead of the instant you jump. And also the option to turn it off completely. I love the flight theme but it sucks you basically never get to hear the area themes again while travelling once you unlock flying.

Considering they didn't listen to the complaints about the vision reacts music in DE I am Very Skeptical about a flight music toggle tho :(

Hot take but I actually like talking to characters in NLA to put them in your party. However I HATE it when I cannot find them because they are not in their usual spot. Please mark their current locations on the map!!

Rebalance the audio and/or add audio options to the settings because I would love to hear the characters talk over the music

Wild card that won't happen but that I have always wanted: add a fashion boutique to the commercial district where you can buy fashion gear. And add more of it. I love the casual clothes in this game. I just wish it was easier to get specific things than randomly getting it from the basic mission board

Improve follow ball. That thing gets lost and confused when you fly

Better quest tracking for collectibles. Would love to be able to find my quest items without having to consult the wiki where they spawn.

Honestly, add better quest tracking for enemies as well. I have spend way too much time searching for tyrants despite having their basic mission active. Just anything that makes me use the wiki less while playing.

Offline option to gain reward tickets. I love the online but it would be so much better and more fair to all players if you could get the reward tickets offline as well. Being stuck in collection quests or grinding all materials for creating skells amd augments is just so bad without the tickets.

I feel like the map could use a bit more location names and would also really appreciate it if it would show exactly where the landmark/probe is in the sector. Because I have had moments where I warped and ended up being a lot farther away from where I wanted to go than I thought.

Option to change time from the menu instead if having to find a base camp or bench!!!

Better tutorials. Like they have to because the manual is gone. But even with the manual I felt like explanations were lacking at times. Especially when it comes to overdrive.

Not a change rather a very heartfelt request to NOT change how stupidly broken overdrive is. Infinite overdrive strats my beloved.

Option to quit out of a story or affinity mission. I never did get stuck in one. And I know there's an option to lower boss difficulty if you die a few times. But I just never liked the restricted feeling of not being able to give up and retry it later. Especially ones where you need items which can be a Pain without reward tickets.

Game is probably gonna get an easy mode anyway but I would really appreciate the option to quit a mission.

Make the skells easier to control in vehicle mode?? I don't know how this could be achieved. Maybe it's just a skill issue on my part (rather than a skell issue)

Unlikely but please: multiple save files per user. The whole reason I have a second profile on my Switch is Xenoblade 2 (and BotW) not allowing multiple savefiles per profile.

Maybe have inactive party members gain some exp? Like after you unlock overdrive you can basically solo the game anyway but it would be nice to not have a character stuck at level 20 when you are in late game grinding affinity for affinity missions

Somehow make it so that the Prospectors aren't constantly dominating the leaderboards. I too want salvage tickets for my skell :(

[gatheringbones]

[“There is this idea that turning points are clean and complete, but while my body seemed to want more of these experiences with Jane, my mind remained wary and confused. It was like a tug of war: one minute, I would buck against the dildo Jane held in her hand and the next I would push it out of me. I’d hover above Jane, careful to keep from resting even an ounce of my weight on her and then I’d suddenly plop down on her lap and grind down on her like a pestle. I’d thrill as Jane’s eyes roamed across my body and then I’d hear myself say, “Stop looking at me.”

For so long, I had dismissed the parts of me that wanted to be an object of desire, telling myself that my worth lay in the pleasure I gave to other women. And while I had squirmed against the butch label, that was perhaps because I also saw how I much I hid behind the swaggery, masculine aspects of it to keep myself safe from rejection. When I was suddenly faced with a person who actually wanted the soft, vulnerable—dare I say feminine—parts of me, who made me feel fuckable, it took time for the old stories to sieve their way out of me. And they never did completely. But as we kept having sex I began to feel relief instead of fear in giving up control. I began to appreciate the space it afforded me to start paying attention to what made my body feel good and not just my partner’s. I also began to see how femininity and objectification held their own power. There is something so emboldening about holding a lover’s gaze, about allowing them inside the deepest parts of you. And even when you are “the bottom” there is a constant dance of consent and choice being navigated between you and your partner. Understanding this made me a better lover when I was topping too.

It is not as if being fucked with one big dick a few times made me comfortable with the fluidity of my gender and of my sexual desires, but as Jane and I continued to stretch each other’s boundaries inside of a monogamous, trusting relationship, and my adult friends embraced the sex we were having, I started to experiment with my body in other ways. I asked Jane to show me how to apply my own lipstick and eyeliner. I started wearing dresses and heels, first to fancy occasions and then, sometimes, just because. I stopped pretending I always knew what people were talking about and discovered the joy of learning what was on the other side of an admission of not knowing. Jane changed too. She bought ripped jeans and T-shirts. She cut her hair short. She became more assertive and direct, eventually coming out to her parents. Once Jane and I realized we could actually inhabit the things we were attracted to in the other person, that it wouldn’t compromise what was already there, we also became kinder to each other because we stopped needing the other person to be a certain way in order to feel complete.

After two years, Jane and I broke up. It was painful, not devastating. We hadn’t hidden or twisted our desires with each other, so when we couldn’t meet them, it didn’t feel like a rejection of who I was but rather an indication that we had simply changed as much as we could together, and whatever else we were changing into, we had to change with other people, and perhaps, more importantly, on our own.”]

amy gall, from my dick, your dick, our dick, from wanting: women writing about desire, 2023

[loony-n-moony]

TWST sibling dynamic absolutely fuck me up and here’s why

so like, I’m already a little ass bitch when it comes to family dynamics and whatnot, but TWST really scratches and itch that isn’t really scratched a lot. Mainly the sibling angst.

Idia and Ortho obviously being the siblings of all time is cutesy and shit until you realize how fucked up the nature of their relationship is. Like Idia had to create a literal simulacra to cope with the loss of Ortho yet has such an awful habit of pushing him away. This could be due to Idia’s constant self-deprecation and him “not being worthy of love” but also because yk- being comforted by the object that looks like your brother could very well be taken in cold and cruel comfort.

But the dynamic that’s really been fucking me up recently? Malleus and Silver. ALLOW ME TO EXPLAIN. Imo Malleus captures a side of older siblings that aren’t seen a lot. That being, utter isolation. They’re pseudo sibling dynamic works so perfectly in the fact that Malleus loves Silver but in his loneliness, he forgets himself.

That excitement upon having a younger sibling? That love? That visceral, bright, and starry-eyed love you first get? And then Malleus’ encompassing loneliness and desperation? He tears everything they’ve built down to the ground in a fruitless and desperate search for that love. In turn he pushes Silver away, the only person who has the actual balls to tear him away from this fantasy. Malleus is so desperate for love that he forgets who taught him what it was.

Edit: Not to mention the pain on Silver’s side being a representation of Sibling Pain™️ not seen too often. The idea and sight of watching this person that you’ve grown up with, admired, and LOVED, be in such a state of anguish and act nothing like the person you knew? Ow. Even worse when he finds he’s been completely blinded to the reality of this.