#Well. Since he took my soul he owned me for his toxic love

[zelena777]

6/10

[mononijikayu]

come back to me — geto suguru.

"I need to tell you something." he said, his voice low, rough with guilt. “It’s... it’s over. Everything.” You frowned, stepping closer to him, concern etched in your features. “What do you mean?” He met your eyes then, and you saw it—the shift, the darkness lurking behind them. His expression was distant, hollow. "I killed them. The village, my parents... I killed them all."

GENRE: alternate universe - canon convergence;

WARNING/S: dead dove: do not eat, dark fic, nsfw (not safe for work), r -18, angst, hurt/no comfort, toxic romance, character death, murder, guilt, remorse, horror, sorrow, tragedy, lovers, canon related violence, choking, violence, curse creature, ghostly figure, anguish, emotional instability, emotional, haunting, betrayal, unfinished business, depiction of character death, depiction of murder, depiction of emotional instability, depiction of choking, depiction of anguish, depiction of guilt, depiction of sorrow, depiction of ghostly figure, mention of mass murder, mention of death, curse user defector! geto suguru, victim girlfriend! reader;

WORDS: 7k words.

NOTE: this is probably the first time i'm writing something that is a dead dove, because i was curious how i would do when writing something as heavy and as horrific as something like this. i wanted to be able to write it properly, because not only is it kinktober, it is also spookytober. so, i had this in mind. i wanted to participate at least once. so, i hope that even though this might not be your cup of tea, it be something of interest to you. but if you can't read it right now, that's okay too. i'll publish more works soon enough!!! i love you all <3

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HE CAN SEE YOU EVERYWHERE. And it was his own fault. A fault, of course, he does not regret. A fault he incurs with wanting, and greed. You haunt Geto Suguru and there was nothing else but it to last forever. You haunt his existence as though you own it. Everything about was drifting through his every thought like a shadow he can't shake.

He had known this would happen. He had anticipated it ever since that day. The day he crossed the line from the man he once was into something darker, something twisted by hatred, madness and grief.

He had expected your presence to follow him. He had expected that you would never leave him alone. Geto Suguru had always wanted it. He had always wanted you. For you were everything. You were the beginning and end.

You were too important, too loved by him. You cannot leave him. You cannot go astray from him. Because he had made it so. He had made it so and it shall be like that. After all, he was the one that took your life. There was no other way about it. And he remembers. He remembers it distinctly. He remembers it all too well.

It was after the massacre, after he had ended up doing what he had done. Still in his blooded clothes, weary and exhausted, he did not hesitate in all he had done. Why should he? Why should he feel regret now when his heart, his soul, his everything, was corrupted by the greed and indifference of others?

That village had been reduced to nothing but ash and ruin, its people were swiftly slaughtered by his own hand. And all that remained was ash and bone, the dark charred bitterness burning amid the blue flames.

He of course did not stop there. He couldn't. It was as though he was in autopilot. As though no one was home. And yet, he remembers. He feels the contradiction of it all. But he does not need to admit to fault. The result was obvious. It was secured by fate. The fate he had chosen.

He took Mimiko and Nanako and brought them somewhere safe. And all that he could think of his house. It would be empty. His parents wouldn't be home. And he take what he needed and leave. He could leave. But he was a fool for thinking that everything would go swiftly as he planned.

Within an hour of him trying to take everything, he silences Mimiko and Nanako and tells them to keep the TV on, as loud as possible. And no matter what, do not come down. The two young girls agreed, they were smiling too. They would do anything he'd asked. For after all, he was the one who had saved them from these....these cruel creatures that had nearly taken their lives.

Geto Suguru has always had a difficult relationship with his parents. But even then, he had cared for him. He was a filial son, he knew that about himself. Yet he knew that he had gone far already with what he had done.

He cannot let his parents be an exception. Not even if they weren't at fault. Even if they didn't do anything. He can't be lenient. Geto Suguru lets his steps be firm, even if he knows he can't. He could remember his mother's greeting, seeing him. His father's little hey. It was almost like his childhood agaian.

"You staying the night, 'guru?" His mother asks him as she puts down the grocery bags. "I thought it would still be a school night."

"Let him be, dear." His father says, smiling at his wife. "We always work, he's always at school. Let's just enjoy having him around for a little more time."

His mother laughs. "You're right. We might as well enjoy our son being here."

"Oh, 'guru. Is that ketchup stains on your shirt?" His mother gasped, spotting the red stain on his white school shirt. "Take it off, 'guru! Let me clean it. Go and change, you must be tired―"

"You can do it later, dear." His father says, as he starts clearing out the groceries. "I'm sure that you can wash it later. If Suguru wants to spend some more time with us, then wash it later."

His mother pouts at his father's words. "I suppose so."

"Mom, dad." Suguru finally talks, raising his head a little. His eyes meeting that of his mother and father. He catches their attention and he stays still.

For a moment, he could see everything of him in his mother and his father. His mother's purple eyes, his father's tender lips. His mother's long black hair. His father's gentle face. He could see all of him in them. And he's going to destroy it. He's going to ruin it. He has to. There's no other way.

His mother's brows raised a bit confused. "What is it, 'guru? Do you want anything?"

"I'm sorry."

In that moment, maybe they did notice what was wrong with him. After months of suffering, after this whole year, maybe they finally noticed. But they noticed too late. They noticed too late when he already had resolve.

"Hey, son. If there's anything you want to talk to us about, you can." His father says to him, walking towards him. This was the last time Suguru would see his father's kind face. "We love you son, you know that. You can tell us anything."

"I love you too." Suguru whispers, lifting his head whole. He reveals tears pouring from his face. "I'm sorry."

Those were the last words he said to his parents. Those were the last thing they heard from him as his curses took them both one by one and destroyed what remained of who he was.

Geto Suguru sobbed for a long while, looking at the blood. Looking at what he had done. He sobbed and sobbed until nothing could come out. But what was done was done. He needed to move forward. There was only one thing left.

And yet, after all that bloodshed, he went to you. Not out of regret, not out of any moral dilemma, but he was too far gone for that. He had to close all his ties. He had to disappear. Geto Suguru cannot remain. He has to die. And what better way than to end you too.

If Geto Suguru had one thing he was truly happy in his life about, it was you. And you were his everything. You were the one constant, the one person who had always been there.

You, his childhood friend, the girl who had stood beside him through everything. And more than that, you were the love of his life. The woman he'd once dreamed of marrying, of building a future with before everything unraveled.

When Geto Suguru arrived at your house, everything was still. You were sitting alone, your parents gone, much like his had been your entire lives, leaving the house in an eerie silence. You were the last peaceful thing in his world.

And he has to take you away. You weren't meant for this dirty world. You were the purest thing in his life. You can't be here. Not when he wrecks everything whole. You can't, you can't be tarnished more than you will be.

As he stepped into the room, you looked up and your face lit up, just like it always did. You were so beautiful to him. The most beautiful star in his sky. Forever infinitely so pure. His beloved.

You smiled at him like nothing had changed, as if the boy standing before you was still the same Suguru you had known all those years. You were happy to see him, your eyes full of warmth, unburdened by the weight of the horrors he had committed just hours before.

“Suguru!” you greeted him, standing up and crossing the room to meet him. Your voice was soft, affectionate, carrying none of the tension or fear that had filled his life. “I’ve missed you.”

For a moment, in that single heartbeat, he almost let himself believe it—that he could be that man again. The boy who smiled and laughed with you. The one who loved you with every part of himself. He could feel the familiar tug in his chest, the love he had always felt for you, pulling him back from the brink. And for a second, he almost let himself forget.

But deep down, Suguru knew. The path he had chosen was irreversible. He had come too far, burned too much of himself away to ever turn back. There was no room left for love, for innocence, for the life he had once dreamed of with you. He had destroyed it all, and now everything around him had to fall too. Even you.

You didn’t see it coming. You had no idea of the darkness that had consumed him. You looked at him as if nothing had changed—as if he were still the boy who had promised to protect you, to always stand by your side. And that was the part that hurt him the most.

"Suguru, what's wrong?" you asked softly, reaching out to touch his arm. "You look... tired. Are you okay?"

He flinched at your touch, as though your kindness was too much to bear. He turned his face away, swallowing the bitterness rising in his throat. How could he even begin to explain? How could he tell you what he had done, the blood that stained his hands, the lives he had taken?

"I need to tell you something." he said, his voice low, rough with guilt. “It’s... it’s over. Everything.”

You frowned, stepping closer to him, concern etched in your features. “What do you mean?”

He met your eyes then, and you saw it—the shift, the darkness lurking behind them. His expression was distant, hollow. "I killed them. The village, my parents... I killed them all."

Your breath hitched. For a moment, you didn’t understand. You didn’t want to. “What are you talking about?” you whispered, shaking your head, disbelief coloring your voice. “That’s... that’s not possible. You wouldn’t—”

“I did.” His voice was cold, flat, devoid of emotion. “I killed them. They deserved it.”

Your knees buckled, and you stumbled back, eyes wide in shock. You couldn’t reconcile the words he was saying with the boy standing in front of you. “No... no, that’s not you, Suguru. You wouldn’t do something like that. You.... you would never.”

But as you looked into his eyes, the reality of it sank in. You could see it. Little by little, you pieced it all together. You could see the darkness that had swallowed him whole, the monster he had become. And your heart broke, shattered into pieces as you realized what he had done, what he was planning to do.

“I’m sorry, my love.” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, but there was no warmth in it. “You have to understand... I can’t let you live. Not like this. Not anymore.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, but even then, even as the weight of his betrayal crushed you, you didn’t hate him. You couldn’t. This was Geto Suguru; the boy who had always been gentle with you, who had held your hand on dark nights and made you believe in a future together. Your everything.

Just as much as you were his everything. You loved him. You still do love him. How could you not? He was and always will be the love of your life. You didn’t hate him, but you were afraid. Not of death, but of what he had become.

“Suguru…….” Your voice trembled. “You don’t have to do this. Please.”

He looked away, clenching his fists, his jaw tight. “I do.”

“But I love you.” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I still love you. Even now. Isn't that enough?”

His heart ached at your words, the pain of your love cutting deeper than any blade. He had come too far, done too much. There was no going back, not for him, not for either of you. He cannot stop. If he could do it to his parents, he could do it to you.

But you—you were different. He couldn't kill you like he had killed the others. He didn’t want to see fear in your eyes, didn’t want to hear you scream or beg for mercy. You deserved better than that, better than what the world had given you, even if he no longer deserved you.

So he made a choice. A twisted act of love, the last shred of mercy he could offer.

“I’m sorry, my love.” he repeated, stepping closer, his voice soft now. "You won’t feel anything. You’ll just fall asleep, and... you’ll dream. A dream that never ends."

Your tears fell freely, but you didn’t move. You didn’t try to run. How could you? You were in disbelief. You were in absolute mania, you were in a madness. There was no way you could. You cannot do anything but be still, in shock, and wait for the end. Betrayed, hurt and gone by the one that you loved the most.

Or perhaps, maybe you had always known it would come to this; that the boy you had loved had been consumed by the darkness, and there was no saving him. Maybe it was just fate. Or maybe you were just too kind, too trusting, too good for this world. Suguru would never know.

He held you close, cradling you in his arms, and for a moment, you let yourself believe everything would be okay. That somehow, this nightmare would end, and you would wake up in the arms of the boy you loved, the one who would protect you. But deep down, you knew that wasn’t the case.

He just kept you beside him all through the night, for what felt like hours, maybe longer. Your body was so still in his arms, as though the weight of the world had finally let go of you. You were so quiet, so calm, as if you had already accepted what was coming. 

Maybe you knew, deep down, that the boy you had loved so fiercely, so fully, had become someone else. That he had become this person lost in a sea of hate and ambition, far beyond the innocent dreams you had once shared together.

Geto Suguru wondered if you had always known that it would come to this, that the path he had chosen would inevitably lead you to this moment of no return. That you had always known that he will be your beginning and end. That you would belong to him no matter what, life and in death. Because he didn't. Until now.

“I’m so sorry. I love you.” he whispered one last time, his voice cracking, as he used his curse on you—the one that could curse with a dream that would never end.

You felt yourself slipping away, your body growing heavy, your eyelids fluttering shut. But there was no fear, no pain. Just a deep, endless sleep. Suguru’s heart clenched. He knew what he was about to do. He had already gone too far—there was no turning back. 

You would never have followed him down the path he had chosen, the path of darkness and destruction. You were too pure, too gentle, to walk the same road as him. You would never raise a hand to hurt anyone, even if it meant saving yourself. That was the kind of person you were, the kind of person he could never be.

So, this dream; this was all he could give you. It was the only gift left that wasn’t tainted by his sins.

His curse; a dream that would never end. It was his final act of love, his last attempt to protect you from the reality he had created. With it, he could give you what the real world had taken away from both of you.

He could give you the life you should have had. The life he had stolen from you when he became the monster you never deserved. In this dream, you could live peacefully, forever untouched by the violence and corruption that had consumed him. In this dream, you could be happy. You could be free.

He watched as your breathing grew softer, your chest rising and falling in a steady, peaceful rhythm. And in that moment, Suguru let himself imagine what your dream was like. Maybe it was a simple life, the kind you had always wanted. 

Maybe the two of you were walking through the fields of a quiet village, hand in hand, with the sun setting on the horizon. Or maybe you were sitting beneath a tree, with your head resting on his shoulder, laughing about nothing at all.

He pictured the softness of your smile, the warmth of your touch, moments of joy that you would never experience again, not in the real world. But in this dream, it would be eternal. And most of all, it would be final. It would be the end. And there would be no path to return.

In this dream, the two of you could grow old together. You could have the life that you both had once spoken about when you were younger, before everything had gone wrong. There would be no death, no suffering. Only love. Only peace.

As your body stilled completely, Geto Suguru’s heart ached with the weight of what he had done. He had cursed you, just as he had cursed so many others, but this curse was different. This one was born out of love.

A twisted, desperate love that couldn’t save you, but could at least offer you a kind of peace. It wasn’t enough. He knew that. It was never going to be enough. But it was all he could give.

"I’m sorry, my love." he whispered, his voice breaking in the silence of the night. "I’m so sorry."

He could never undo what he had done. He couldn’t bring you back, not really. But he could give you this, a life lived in the dream of what could have been. And maybe, just maybe, that would be enough for you.

But as the hours passed, and the weight of your absence began to sink in, Suguru knew the truth; he hadn’t done this just for you. He had done it for himself. To hold on to the illusion of what he had destroyed. To keep you with him, in some way, even if it was only in the depths of a dream that would never end.

It was all he had left

You never woke up.

“I love you, I love you.” he whispered into the silence, knowing you would never hear him. "Always."

And as he laid you down, letting you drift into the dream he had cursed you with, he knew he would never find peace again.

He had seen it in your eyes when he came to you that night. There was no anger, no fear—just a deep, silent understanding. It wasn’t the kind of acceptance that came from giving up; it was something softer, sadder. 

Maybe you had already resigned yourself to the fact that Suguru could no longer protect you, that the man he had become could only destroy the things he once cherished. He wondered if, in your heart, you had always known that the love you had given him so freely would be the very thing that led to your end.

Or maybe, he thought, you were simply too good for this world. Too kind, too pure. He never really knew. The way you looked at him that night, with the same softness you always had, even after everything. He couldn’t understand it. He had expected fear, maybe even hatred. But there was none of that. Just love, unwavering, even in the face of what he had become.

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HE PAYS FOR HIS SINS WITH THIS. Every evil act has a gift in return. Everything has a consequence. And he knew that you would die with some hatred in you. That you wouldn't go without a fight, without resentment. You would be bound to materialize as the shadow of what life could have been and the regrets he had made it to be.

Because of he had done, your ghost lingers. You were his constant reminder of what he threw away. You were all he wanted and all he had wasted. The person he loved the most and the person he ruined the most. In his mind, he can still feel the warmth of your embrace, still hear the way you said his name with love and trust.

He killed you because he had to. Because his mission demanded it—but the truth is, he didn’t want you to die. He had never wanted that. He had wanted you by his side, forever. But in his quest for destruction, he had destroyed the only thing that had ever truly mattered to him.

Even now, he can feel you. The weight of your absence presses down on him, but so does the weight of your presence. You’re always there, just out of reach, watching him, haunting him.

He sees you in his dreams, in his nightmares, in the quiet moments when he’s alone with his thoughts. He wonders what could have been, if only he had made a different choice. But that world is gone, along with you, and all he has left is the ghost of the life he should have had.

In the end, it wasn’t your fault. You didn’t deserve to die. But he had gone too far, and in doing so, he lost the one person who had always believed in him. Now, your love is a memory that torments him, and your ghost is a shadow that will never leave his side.

"Do you hate me?" Suguru's voice trembled as he sat at the edge of the bed where he had last held you.

No one was living here anymore, your parents couldn't bear it. And so he bought the house, with a proxy. And left everything just the way it was. The room still smelled like you. It always will. Everything in this house will be you. Everything in his life is you.

There were faint traces of the perfume you wore, the lingering scent of your skin, and the warmth that used to make this place feel like home. The dresses you liked to wear when you both would go on those rare dates. The smell of your shampoo lingers in your bathroom. He remembered the way his nose would rest against it when you both slept together.

The home had been so abundantly you. Everything about it was you. And now, it was just a hollow space, like a tomb. All his regrets lay there. All his grief resided here. Everything was here. And he couldn't take it. He couldn't abandon it. He couldn't live with it. But he had to. He has to live. He has to live haunted by you.

Because he was sure, hell would be his place. And he would never see you again. He would never know you again. He would only ever live in misery there without you, without traces of you. He could feel his heart beat in his chest, heavy and erratic, waiting for something. Anything. Just a little sign from the presence he could always feel around him.

You didn't answer, not with words. You never did. But there was a weight in the air, a feeling that always hovered when he thought of you. He could feel your sadness, the disappointment that clung to the silence between them. It cut deeper than any curse could.

"I... I didn't want it to be like this, my love." he whispered, gripping the sheets beneath him, the same ones you used to curl up in. His fingers twisted in the fabric, the pressure keeping his hands from shaking.

"I thought... If I let you go gently, it would be enough. It would be kinder. But I was wrong, wasn’t I? I should...I should have taken you with me. Abandoned the world. We could... we could have been together."

There was no reply, but the stillness in the room felt heavier. The silence was cruel. But it was what he deserved. He could imagine your eyes on him, those soft, kind eyes that had once looked at him with nothing but love. Now, he wondered if they would have only looked at him with sorrow.

"I loved you, the most in the world." he said, almost to himself. His voice cracked, the admission pulling something raw from deep within. "I still do. I don't know if that matters now, but I wanted you to know. Even after everything... I loved you more than I loved anything. Even the hate. Even the darkness. But that didn’t change anything."

The words felt hollow, like a confession given too late to a ghost that could no longer forgive. He buried his face in his hands, the weight of the years, of his choices, pressing down on him like a thousand stones. He did this to himself. He did this to you. He had no right to feel sorrow. No right to feel remorse or longing.

"I used to think I could fix it. That somehow, I’d find a way to make everything right. That maybe... Maybe if I succeeded, I’d see you again, and you’d understand. That you’d forgive me." He laughed, but it was empty, bitter. "But I don’t deserve it, do I? I killed you. I killed the woman I loved more than anything in this world, and for what?"

He stood suddenly, unable to sit still any longer, pacing the room. "What did I gain? Power? Control? None of it matters. None of it ever mattered without you."

The room seemed to shift then, the shadows curling in the corners, and for a moment, he thought he saw you. A glimpse, just out of the corner of his eye, like a faint outline of your silhouette. He froze, heart pounding, and for the briefest second, hope flickered in his chest. Could it be?..........

"Suguru......." Your voice was soft, barely a whisper, but it pierced through the silence like a dagger. "Suguru........."

He turned, but there was nothing. Just the dim light filtering through the curtains, the room empty as it always had been. But the voice lingered, echoing in his mind.

"Suguru..."

He closed his eyes, breathing in deeply, trying to hold onto the sound of your voice, as though he could pull you back into reality. "I'm sorry, my love." he whispered. "I’m so sorry."

For a long moment, there was nothing but the hum of the wind outside, the creak of the old floorboards beneath his feet. And then, in the stillness, something seemed to shift again. The presence was still there, but softer, like a gentle hand on his shoulder, a touch that wasn’t quite there but wasn’t gone either.

"I never wanted this, I…." he whispered, his voice breaking. "I never wanted to hurt you. But I didn’t know how to stop. I couldn’t stop."

There was no answer, but in the silence that followed, there was a warmth—a fleeting warmth, like the last rays of sunlight before nightfall. It wrapped around him, gentle, forgiving, and for just a moment, he thought that maybe you didn’t hate him after all.

But then it was gone.

Just like you were.

Just like everything.

And he was alone again, in the house where you had once lived, haunted by the love he had destroyed with his own hands.

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HUMAN GREED IS THIS, HE LIKES TO THINK. Even though he was the most undeserving being in existence, he wanted to be greedy. He wanted to be greedy when it came to you. He can't help it. He wanted you, no matter what. He yearns for you no matter the case. Even if it's to curse him, he wants to see you again. You became a cursed ghost, bound to him like the shadow of every terrible thing he had done. 

Geto Suguru felt your presence in everything he did, in every step he took. It was unavoidable. When he would wake up, he knows you were calling his name. When he was in his dreams, you would look at him, without saying anything.

You haunted him relentlessly, silently, like a specter of the life he had stolen from you, and from himself. He couldn't escape you. He didn’t deserve to. He doesn't want to. He doesn't think he should. Not when he loves you most.

At first, he tried to ignore it. He tried to pretend that your death had been some kind of mercy, that he had spared you the pain that had consumed everyone else. Because that was what he had thought when he had taken your life. That's what he thought he was doing. He thought he was standing by you.

But as the years passed by, he knew that he was in the wrong. He accepted that he was in the wrong. That he had caused misery beyond compare. Not only for him but the most, for you. You were robbed of everything. Because he willed it.

And you couldn't accept it. He knew you wouldn't. Even if you had not done anything when he had killed you, you resented him. He knew that for a fact. Because you would not have materialized, your spirit wouldn't have lingered if that was the case. You resented him. And you loved him. You wanted him to pay and you wanted to hold him.

You followed him through the days and the nights, never speaking, but always there—watching, waiting. Your eyes, once full of love and warmth, now filled with sadness, sorrow, and something worse: disappointment.

If he was being honest, Suguru hated it. He cannot take how you look at him with those eyes. He cannot understand how it hurt him, how it can put him to the worst of grief. Over and over again.

He hated how tainted you had become because of him, how his hands, once capable of tenderness, had defiled your soul. You were twisted now, corrupted by his actions, bound to this cursed existence because of him.

He had stained you, dragged you into the darkness with him, and now, he could never set you free. You were a cursed being, a remnant of everything pure he had ruined.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw you. Every time he breathed, it was like you were just behind him, your breath a cold whisper on his neck. When he fought, when he killed, when he walked among the ruins he had created, you were there, like a silent witness to his sins. You never left him alone. And he had a love and hate for the fact. 

And in the stillness, in the quiet moments between battles, he would feel your sadness radiating from the shadows, like a knife twisted into his chest. The more he tried to push you away, the tighter your curse clung to him, a constant reminder of what he had done.

It wasn’t fair. You didn’t deserve this. You had been innocent. You had been his love, his reason for hope in a world full of hatred. You were the light he had turned away from, and in doing so, he had dragged you into the abyss with him. And now, you were part of that same darkness. A monstrosity of his own making.

He wanted to give you peace. He wanted to free you, to find a way to release your soul from the curse he had placed upon you. But deep down, he knew he couldn’t. He had gone too far, and there was no redemption, not for him, and not for you. This was all that was left of the love you shared—a twisted, haunted existence. You were bound to him in life, and now in death, you were bound to him still.

Suguru couldn’t forgive himself for what he had done to you. He couldn’t bear the weight of knowing that even in death, you had no peace. You should have been free, your soul at rest, away from the horrors of the world he had embraced. But instead, you were with him, suffering, watching him destroy everything, even himself.

"This isn’t what you deserved." he whispered one night, his voice shaking as he sat alone, surrounded by the cold, oppressive air of your ghost. "But that's all I have left of you."

And in his heart, he knew the truth: he had destroyed everything good in his life, including you. Now, all he had left was this haunting, this curse, this twisted version of the love he had once cherished. It was his punishment, the monstrosity of his own creation, and he would carry it with him until the very end.

You began to interact with him, more than just a haunting presence. At first, it was subtle—a cold breeze across his skin when the windows were closed, the flicker of shadows in the corner of his vision, the soft rustle of something moving when no one was there.

But as the days passed, it became more intense. You weren’t just watching him anymore. You were with him, and that made the guilt all the more unbearable. He could tell that you didn't know how to feel about it. One moment, you adored him. One moment you hated him. Each and every time, he took it. He yearned for it. He wants it to repeat over and over.

Suguru could feel it in every brush of cold air, in every movement you made. There was nothing left of the person you once were. You were no longer the girl who had loved him, the one who smiled and laughed, whose touch brought him comfort.

What was left was a hollow shell of your soul, twisted and broken by his actions. The broken body of a ghost that wanted nothing more to be free. To hate him, to love him and to leave him. And yet, despite knowing this, despite knowing that he had destroyed you beyond recognition, he still couldn’t let you go.

It was his greed that bound you, his selfish desire to keep you close, no matter what you had become. Even now, even as you haunted him, as you tormented him with your presence, he clung to you like you were his last lifeline.

He convinced himself that this was you, that this cursed, fractured version of your spirit was the real you coming back to him. He needed to believe it because the alternative; the idea that you were gone, truly gone, was too painful to bear.

In his twisted mind, he told himself that you stayed because you loved him. That even though he had shattered your soul, even though he had ripped you away from everything you knew, you still came back to him. You came back because you loved him the most. And that was enough for him, even if it wasn’t the truth.

But the truth was something he could never fully escape. He knew, deep down, that you hated him. He saw it in the way your spirit lashed out at him at night, the way you hovered over him, watching him with eyes that burned with anger and grief.

Sometimes, when the room grew still and dark, he could feel your hands—those same hands that once touched him with love—wrap around his throat, cold and vengeful, pressing down as if you were trying to choke the life from him. You wanted him dead. He knew that.

There were extreme nights, when you would feel your death over and over again. Where you would feel the anger and the grief and the pain overwhelm you. In those nights, you tried to kill him. Your cold, spectral fingers would tighten around his neck or press into his chest, making his heart race with terror.

He would wake in a panic, gasping for air, drenched in sweat, his body shaking from the closeness of death. And yet, even as he lay there, heart pounding, knowing you had just tried to take his life, he couldn’t let you go. The more you hated him, the more he needed to keep you close.

"I know you hate me, my love." he whispered one night, after waking from another attack. His voice was hoarse, his throat raw from where your ghostly fingers had pressed down on his windpipe.

"I deserve it. I deserve all of it. But… you came back to me, didn’t you? You could’ve gone anywhere, but you came back to me."

There was no answer, just the icy stillness that filled the room, but he swore he could feel you there, hovering just out of sight, watching him with those same cold, dead eyes as you kept pushing over and over again. You wanted him to die. You wanted him to pay. But he could see it too, how you wanted to stop yourself too.

"Even if you hate me, I need you here." he continued, his voice breaking. "Because you love me… you still love me, right?"

The silence stretched on, and for a moment, he almost believed he could hear your voice, your real voice, telling him that it was true. That you did love him, even after everything. That you wanted to say sorry over and over again.

But then, the familiar cold returned, creeping up his spine like the touch of death itself, and he felt your hands again, tighten against his skin. Only this time, colder, harsher, more brutal. More willing to kill. More willing to take his life in revenge. He had never seen you like this before. He had never seen you so angry at him before.

And he knew he deserved it. He knew it is what you should feel. He hurt people, he hurt you. He killed you. You had every right to want to take his life for yours. Even like this. Even after all this time. He would let you. As he had done before, he lay himself defenseless, at your mercy. He was ready to be taken to hell by your angelic arms. Even if he didn't deserve it. You pressed harder, digging into his flesh, as if you were trying to crush him.

"I’m sorry. I’m so sorry." he gasped, fighting for air, tears blurring his vision as he clawed at the emptiness around him. "I’m sorry for everything! But I can’t— I can’t let you go."

And that was the truth. No matter how much you hated him, no matter how many times you tried to kill him in the dead of night, he couldn’t let go of what little was left of you. You were all he had, even if what remained of you was a cursed, vengeful spirit, twisted by his own cruelty.

You were the only thing in his world that still meant anything. You were the last piece of the life he had destroyed, and he would cling to you, even if it killed him. Because that's the only way he could survive. That's the only way he could continue with this. Life is meaningless if you cannot be there. Even if it's to hurt him.

He hated himself for it. He hated the way his greed had tainted your soul, how his selfishness had turned you into this monstrous version of the woman he loved. The promise he had made was his failure. His eternal mistake. But it didn’t matter. In his broken mind, this was better than nothing.

"I’ll keep you with me, my love." he whispered, even as your fingers gripped his throat once more, sending waves of pain through his body. "Even if you kill me, I’ll never let you go."

For a moment, you were silent.

You just keep pushing on and on.

But he could see it as clear as day.

Tears were falling down on your face.

"I know." He croaks out with a struggle. He could feel his skin turn blue and purple as you kept pushing. "I....I know."

No, he thinks to himself. He will never truly know.

He was still alive.

And you were dead.

▐░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▌

MISERY HAS COME TO AN END. This was what he had been waiting for since that day he had taken your life. He couldn't wait for it. He wanted for it to be over. He wanted for it to be done. As Geto Suguru lay there, life slowly draining from his body, Gojo Satoru stood above him, his face unreadable but filled with a deep, unspoken sadness.

The air around them felt thick, charged with the weight of years gone by, of a friendship that had crumbled under the weight of Suguru’s choices. But there was something else in that moment, something that Suguru had felt long before Gojo Satoru arrived. There was a presence that lingered, watching, always there. You.

You stood in the shadows, just out of reach but ever-present, as you had been for so long. He could feel your gaze, cold and sharp, cutting through the haze of his fading consciousness. He didn’t need to see you to know you were there; he always knew. Even as his body weakened, even as death crept closer, you were the one thing he could still feel.

Suguru's breathing was ragged, each breath a struggle, but he forced his eyes to focus, searching for you through the mist of pain and regret. And there you were—silent, ghostly, unchanged in the years that had passed since he had taken your life. 

Your face was a mixture of sorrow and rage, just as it always had been since you had become this cursed existence. It was so real, it felt so real. You were here. He had made you this way, and he knew it. The weight of that knowledge pressed down on him harder than any physical pain ever could.

“I knew you’d be here, my love.” he rasped, his voice weak, barely above a whisper. Blood trickled from his mouth, but he didn’t care. All that mattered now was you.

You stared at him, your eyes burning with the same hatred and sorrow that had haunted him for so long. But behind that, there was something else, something deeper that had always lingered between you….love. It was fractured, twisted by the years of torment, but it was still there, in the way you watched him now, waiting.

"I—" He coughed, the pain wracking his body, but he forced the words out, knowing he didn’t have much time. "I’m sorry… I’m so sorry. For everything. For what I did to you. For taking you away. I never wanted it to be like this."

Your expression didn’t change, but Geto Suguru could feel the weight of your emotions. He could always feel it, the depth of your pain, your anger, and the love that had been tainted by his cruelty.

"I don’t deserve forgiveness, my love." he continued, his voice trembling, "I know that. I don’t even ask for it. But… I need you to stay with me." His purple eyes, dark and filled with regret, locked onto yours.

"Hate me. Keep hating me for what I did. I deserve it. Stay angry. Stay hurt. Just—" His voice cracked, and for a moment, the mask of strength he had worn for so long fell away, revealing the broken man beneath. "Just don’t leave me."

You didn’t move, but something in your gaze softened, just for a moment, and Suguru’s heart clenched.

"I need you to keep loving me." he whispered, barely audible now, the strength leaving him with each breath. "Even if it’s hate. Even if it’s anger. Please… don’t ever leave. Stay with me, even in death."

There was silence for a long moment, the world around him fading, the edges of reality blurring. Gojo Satoru’s presence was there, a silent witness to this final moment, but all Suguru could focus on was you. The one person he had loved, the one person he had destroyed.

And in that silence, he thought he saw you nod. It wasn’t forgiveness. He knew that you could never give him that. Not even if you wanted to. So, he didn’t expect that. But it was something, a promise of sorts, that you would remain, that you would stay by his side, even in the twisted, cursed way you had been for so long.

You had no other choice. You were tied to him. Even if you were an angel, you were his to have killed. And you were his to keep. One way or another, you were doomed with him.

As the light in his eyes began to dim, Suguru let out one last breath, his body finally succumbing to the weight of it all. But even as the world around him slipped away, he felt you there, just as he had always wanted. He wanted forever. He wanted you to be bound to him, through love, hate, and everything in between.

And for the first time in what felt like an eternity, Geto Suguru felt a sense of peace, knowing that in death, you would never leave his side.

As Suguru’s body lay still, life finally left him, your form so long bound to his cursed existence, everything had begun to change. The air around you shifted, the heaviness that had weighed you down for years slowly lifting.

You had been tied to him for so long, your soul twisted by the hatred and sorrow of what he had done to you. But now, with his death, the curse that had held you in this half-life, in this torment, began to unravel.

You felt it—slowly, like a breath you hadn’t taken in so many years. The pull that had kept you bound to him, the chains of guilt, anger, and love, began to fade. It wasn’t quick; the pain was still there, raw and deep, but it was easing, loosening its grip on your soul.

The twisted form you had taken, the vengeful ghost that had followed Suguru through every step, began to dissolve. You were withering away, piece by piece, the curse unraveling like a thread in the wind.

But there was no joy in it. No relief. Instead, as you felt your spirit beginning to break free, something strange and unexpected filled you—grief.

The years of anger, hatred, and sorrow were fading, and with them, the love you had once held so deeply for him, a love that had persisted despite everything. As the curse released its grip on you, tears began to fall, silent and steady, down your ghostly face.

Gojo Satoru stood above Geto Suguru, watching it all unfold. He had always known about you, the shadow that haunted his best friend, the curse that Suguru had created out of his own guilt and selfish love. 

But seeing it now, seeing the way your form withered away, your tears falling like echoes of a past long gone, it struck him in a way he hadn’t expected. He didn’t need to see the full story to understand what you were; what you had been to Suguru, and what he had taken from you.

Your tears shimmered in the fading light, and Gojo Satoru, ever perceptive, caught the faint glisten of them. He could feel the depth of your pain, even now, as you began to fade from the world.

The sight of your sorrow, of your spirit being freed but still weighed down by the lingering grief, hit something in him that he rarely allowed anyone to see. His usual mask of indifference slipped, just for a moment, and he sighed softly.

“Love really is the worst curse, huh.” he murmured to himself, his voice low, almost as though he were speaking to the empty air, to you.

He understood, more than most, how love could bind, twist, and destroy. He had seen it countless times in the lives of others, and now, here, at the end of everything, he saw it in Suguru’s last moments and in your ghostly form, finally free but forever marked by what had been done to you.

You didn’t answer him—you couldn’t. Your form was fading faster now, the last remnants of your curse dissolving into the air. But as you disappeared, your tears fell one last time, a final release of all the pain you had carried, of all the love and hate that had twisted you into what you had become.

Gojo watched you until there was nothing left, just the faint whisper of your presence lingering in the silence. He looked down at Suguru, his once closest friend, and felt a deep, bittersweet sorrow wash over him. He knew that, in the end, both of you had been cursed by love, in different ways. And now, both of you are gone.

With one last glance at the empty space where your spirit had been, Gojo Satoru sighed again, his heart heavy. What a tragedy of a life it all had been.

"Yeah……" he whispered to himself. "The worst curse of all."

[colourstreakgryffin]

Oh, my God, of course you can, dear. And to make it interesting to read, make sure that Alastor makes a deal with Bill (that is, with us) 👏

Awesome! Thanks, love! I’m on it. Alastor x Bill Cipher! Reader/Us, genderneutral! I know I’ve been busy but sadly, life gets in the way as much as writer block does. Sorry that this is bad, Bill and Alastor being the best toxic ‘partners’ go brrrrr~

Alastor- the Weirdmageddon

Alastor is infamously known as the strongest, the greatest, the most influential Overlord in Hell’s history… but his power is much more artificial than people ever suspected, yet. He also refuses to accept that as a fact, he wants to believe his power is his. It was only boosted by the figure who owns him, not granted by the figure who owns him

Sadly… that’s not the case. He’s only overwhelmingly authoritative because of you, called under the simple name ‘Cipher’. Making a deal with you, you granted him a alternately-sourced chunk of your immense power in exchange for him serving you as you please

As mutual give and take partners in crime

Alastor despises it… he despises being chained. He despises being the servant of a demonic entity so above him that they can turn him into a decoration banner with a snap of their fingers. Said demonic entity, being you, is a multidimensional threat that Hell had never seen

Often shaped in the form of a big limbed floating one eyed triangle, you’ve never shown your true form. It makes you terrifying in reality; nobody, not even Alastor knows your power’s true vast limits. Alastor always remembers the day he had sold his soul to you so fluently

In 1937, deep within Hell almost four years after his earth-life death, where Alastor barely had any position, any power, any recognition, any influence within this agitating city full of prissy high-ranks. He had to figure out a way to get what he wanted so he stumbled his way upon a library that had a eyecatching journal consisting a number of odd concepts, unknown mysteries but he only cares about one thing

Cipher

A extremely powerful demonic entity, it’s unknown if they are a human soul or a hellborn manifested by Lucifer himself. Either way, they are so strong that a number of this thick dark old journal has urgent warnings of the following ‘do NOT summon at all causes’. Alastor had never been a man to follow the rules, he follows himself so he took that journal and under the cover of the blackish-red night

The soon-to-be-Radio Demon had set up a summoning ritual, consisting of a picture of a victim of choice with crossed out eyes, 8 lit candles placed in a circle as well as the incantation: "Triangulum, entangulum. meteforis dominus ventium”. Alastor knew this was pathetic, a waste of time but if he could possibly steal this Cipher’s power

He’d be unstoppable

As soon as he had finished the incantation, it felt like something had possessed him in that split second of a breath and forced him to mindlessly but passionately repeat another unknown backwards message repetitively dropped down onto a knee by a invisible force

Over and over in a menacing manner until the realm around him turned a slate gray, time slowed down instantaneously and a fiery-ringed triangle-shaped black portal manifested in the space above. Out popped you with a malicious insane laugh upon manifesting properly into existence

It actually worked! In like a blink, Alastor had successfully summoned his new victim! Cipher or you, in your triangle shapeshifted demonic form, floating down before him with an invisible grin. You speak up with a strong charming smooth tone of telepathy, you’re much smaller than he suspected. Whilst he snapped out of the weird brief ‘possession’ trance to gain back his composure and grace as a gentleman

“Wow. It’s been a while since I’ve even seen Hell! Hey, you’re a new face. Name’s Cipher. Tell me, are you the brand new dinner? Haha! I’m just kidding. I know who you are, Alastor”

You chime out with a cheerful almost child-like glee despite your obvious insanity, tipping off your cute tophat to him in a charming hats-off style bow. Floating before him effortlessly and your single huge eye following his every movements. Alastor may not be under the position he desires but he doesn’t fear you, he will take you out

He genuinely believes he has a chance to manipulate you into serving him… how up his ass he was to think so

“Enough, ‘dream demon’. I don’t have time to play your games when time is tight. I need you to work for me. As partners in crime, perhaps. A beneficial deal, we grant each other power and influence as well as find victims”

Alastor is very sharp-tongued, witty. He’s a good talker, he knows how to trick even the most suspicious people into believing him and siding him and he plans to exploit you and your immense power to take for his own. You’re an old smudge of the past, he deserves that power more than you do

“Ah. I’ve never had such a companion to rule this Realm with. I suppose, I can give your offer a chance if you help me with my something too”

You are not that easily tricked at all, you’re pretending to be. Pretending to be persuaded by Alastor’s charms, with only a few seconds of thinking beforehand. Since you’re equally as good at tricking and sly-talk, you can see the way the deer demon’s blood red eyes shine with delight from under his demeanour. You know he believes you’re more of a joke than that journal says you are

You can hear his thoughts clear as the next day… you know what he truly wants from you and he won’t get it. He won’t get it since you’ll take his soul as you do to everybody who summons you

“Deer teeth! Enjoy, my dear gentleman”

Where the Heaven did you get those? He had looked down at his own radio microphone for like a few seconds as to internally compose his next statement to subtly pressure you further into doing as he needs. Suddenly, you have a pile of freshly removed but in-that hell deer teeth in your soft smaller hands and you offer the pile to Alastor without even asking him or even letting him speak in response

Alastor doesn’t flinch at the fact he’s holding the teeth of a innocent yet cannibalistic doe or buck but the fact you dare to think he even has use with this so he glares right at you, cracking his infamous sharp yet dapper toothy grin and drops the pile on the floor. He’s bold enough to disrespect you since he believes you are now under him

You don’t even respond, just calmly and quietly floating before him with your big eye blinking sparsely at his rather harsh choice. You don’t mind that, it makes you laugh in-fact. You laugh almost a bit immaturely at him rejecting your ‘friendly gift’. You just know that he is a damn fool for thinking the way he is, you can see EVERYTHING

“I’m looking forward to playing with a pretty little face like yours~ hey? Is that skin natural or do you use face cream~”

Was… that your attempt at flirting? It seemed like it, pitiful. Your tone shifted briefly to a flirty smoother one and you leant your hand on your own… uh, triangle flat ‘cheek’. You’re doing it to amuse yourself, you don’t have much opinions of your new soul and only desire to get a reaction. However, you won’t deny… Alastor is a handsome man~

“Nonsense. What I may have is nothing compared to your radiant beauty. Look at you, so unique and important that this city fears you~ it’s my honour to work with you”

Alastor is using more subtle but fake flirting as to entice you, make you associate him with the concept of ‘reliable’ and a ‘friend’ piece by piece. He needs it, he needs to ensure you’re under his charms so you’ll give up your power to him and work for him as his owned soul

He was too clouded by his own confidence over his capabilities to realise you weren’t manipulated into being trapped under his thumb… even when he made that darn deal. He didn’t realise the deal you and him shook hands on that night wasn’t for your soul, it was for his… until too late. You gave him significant amount of power that he became the most powerful Overlord ever known in Hell, and he became your servant

The advantages and the disadvantages of being owned by you, Cipher

Leading him to where he is now, the current year. Parked up in the Hazbin Hotel to seek his own entertainment further. Alastor is on top of Pentagram City, everybody fears him, he owns several other demons, he’s incredibly infamous and terrifying but he had to give up his own soul and he had to rely on you to become so great…

He’s ashamed. He’s humiliated. But he won’t let anybody know the truth about him. Alastor may regret ever picking up that hastily-written mess of a journal almost eighty years ago but he doesn’t really regret what you’ve done for him

You’ve given him a vastly powerful position by just handing over a flame of your supremacy, you’ve given him the afterlife he desired and he supposes with honestly, little payment in return. Just his soul… you’ve let him stand where he is now, up in his Radio Tower. On the air but inbetween a commercial break, as to check over his script

The silence sends him back to that night so long ago, reminding him almost painfully what becoming your partner in crime has befallen on him… it’s bad but it’s good. It’s torturous yet therapeutic. He doesn’t truly know how to feel about his situation— he should be focusing on his show

You could be so much worse to deal with on a monthly basis. You are kinda charming. He KINDA likes you

[pannman]

Okokokok

What about......Angel Dust is dating Charlie's twin brother, and Y/N gets his short king dad to free Angel's soul from Valentino?

I decided to go for some angst then comfort but I hope I was respectful and appropriate

The Last Straw

Angel Dust x Male Reader

Tw: abuse, toxic relationships, this one talks about the abuse and its affects more than my other fics have so please do not read if that is something triggering for you

You guys had to keep your relationship a secret for various reasons. One being, that the prince of hell and a famous porn star would draw a lot of attention if people knew you were dating. The other being Valentino. Angel's boss who owned his soul and treated him poorly. You knew Angel was afraid of him. Worst of all he was more worried about Valentino hurting you than him.

You knew with the power you held you could obliterate him out of existence but Angel begged you to stay out of it. Despite your worry you decided to respect his boundaries. Especially since you intervening could make things worse for him. You couldn't break deals. It was out of your control. Some days were alright, but some days Angel came home so exhausted he didn't want to even eat. You worried about his well being.

One day he came home tired again. He seemed so quiet. You noticed that he was wearing a fancy scarf he had not left the hotel with earlier. You went to his bedroom with him and once you two were alone you brought it up. At first he tried to play it off but then he got defensive when you asked him to take off the scarf. But when you've been with someone long enough you can see when something is wrong. When he removed the scarf you were upset but not surprised that it was covering up bruises. You felt a pain of sadness initially before a burning rage rose inside you. He begged you not to get involved but you couldn't let this happen anymore. But you didn’t want to freak him out so you tried to calm yourself and sat him down to talk about what you planned to do. Hopefully if you talked this through you could calm him down too.

"No one should ever put their hands on you like that. I'm going to get my dad involved. He knows how to break deals and he is perfectly capable of protecting himself." Angel tried convincing you. "It's fine! It's fine babe. You don't have to get your dad involved. He's probably busy anyway." But you stopped him. "Angel, I love you. And when you love someone you'd do anything for them. And doing anything for them just comes easy. If I was in the same situation I know you would do the same for me." Angel's makeup ran down his cheeks mixed with tears before you opened up your arms offering your comfort. He accepted and fell into your embrace. You two held each other for a while. Despite the heaviness of what just happened there was now some kind peacefulness in the silence and sound of the two of you breathing. Angel pulled you in closer. You could almost fall asleep but you still had something important to do.

You asked Angel if he wanted to come with but he wanted to stay and spend some time with Fat Nuggets. "Just still all emotional ya know?" You smiled and nodded then kissed him before heading out of his room and towards your father's tower. It wouldn't take much convincing. You knew your dad hated guys like Valentino. And he really liked Angel. You just wish you had done something about this sooner. But it wasn't healthy to hang on to guilt like that.... So you took a deep breath.... and opened the door.

[xsherewrytesx]

↳ Toji Fushiguro x f! black reader

summary. You and Toji were broken up for 8 months+. Your constant pressure for him to improve led to frequent fights, driving him to spend more time at the mechanic shop and racing than with you. Despite knowing you meant well, the strain became too much, and Toji eventually ended the relationship.

genre: heavy angst, modern au, 18+, explicit smut, street racer au

fic warnings. ooc, profanity, mental health issues, toxic relationships, cheating, explicit smut, drug use, mentions of depression + more to be updated as story progresses.

Prequel

In the early days, before everything unraveled, before the weight of expectations and dreams became too heavy to bear, there was a time when your and Toji's relationship burned bright with hope and passion.

You were deep into your architecture studies at SCAD university, your days filled with drafting tables and design critiques. Toji, on the other hand, lived a more unconventional life. He worked at a mechanic shop during the day, fixing cars with a skill that hinted at years of hands-on experience. But it was the nights and weekends that defined him—a street racer, known for his daring maneuvers and his loyalty to his crew.

Their worlds collided one night at a local hangout spot, where street racers gathered like modern-day gladiators ready to battle it out on the asphalt. Toji's presence was magnetic, his confidence matched only by the roar of his engine. You were drawn to his intensity, the way he seemed to defy the rules both on and off the track.

Their first date was unconventional, to say the least. Toji took you for a ride in his prized Eleanor Mustang, pushing the car to its limits under the cover of night. The rush of adrenaline, the thrill of speed—it was intoxicating, a glimpse into Toji's world that you couldn't resist.

As their relationship blossomed, you saw potential in Toji beyond the mechanic shop and the late-night races. You believed in him fiercely, pushing him to dream bigger. It was you who planted the seed of owning his own shop, a place where he could showcase his talents and build something lasting.

Toji was hesitant at first, wary of your relentless optimism. "You think I don't want it hard enough?" he would argue, his voice tinged with frustration. "I take my time to learn things right, not rush into something half-assed like you want."

Their arguments became a cycle—a dance of passion and frustration, love and misunderstanding. You both made up after each fight, drawn back together by their shared fire, only to fall into another argument soon after.

The highs of victory at the races were often followed by the lows of heated debates over dinner, their friends, Sukuna, Geto, and Gojo, bearing witness to their volatile love affair.

One night, after Toji lost a crucial race, your disappointment turned to biting criticism. "You were too slow off the line," you snapped, your words a slap in the face. Toji, already raw from the defeat, snapped back with equal force. "I don't need this from you, Y/n! You think you know everything, but you don't understand what it takes!"

You scoffed and rolled your eyes," You sure act like you don't have what it takes." Toji's eyes widen incredulously at your words. He felt his heart crack for the first time since you guys started arguing almost daily.

Toji voice was raised,

"So, this is how you see me huh, just some bum mechanic. I hold my own. I pay my share and more. I do everything I can and more for you, for us. You want L.V, Bottega Veneta, anything you got that plus more. Trips to see your family back home. Tuition fees I help you pay that AND ONE FUCKING NIGHT IM OFF MY GAME AND THATS WHAT I GET Y/N. FORREAL"

Their friends watched in silence as the argument escalated, the air thick with tension and unspoken truths. Sukuna, usually the voice of reason, exchanged a worried glance with Geto and Gojo.

They had seen this before but not to this extent—the clash of two strong-willed souls who loved fiercely but couldn't find common ground.

Toji walked off leaving you with his friends. He walked over to his cousins Maki and Mai who were hanging with Yuuji, Nobara and Megumi, his younger brother.

Megumi sensing his older brother's tension offered him a beer and a quick smoke. Toji took the beer and the joint leaning against Megumi's custom built 2000 Mazda rx7 series 8 in orange.

Megumi stood next to Toji analyzing him before asking. "Wanna talk about it bro. We all saw the commotion from over here. The music was too loud for us to hear but we know it was bad."

Toji sighed not wanting to talk, just think. "Just the usual these days honestly but I'm good man......For the most part." Megumi studied his older brother's face for a moment. He's never seen Toji look so stressed out before. He's usually a bit more carefree and relaxed. Yuuji strode over to offer Megumi another drink and glanced at Toji, who was deep in thought. "Is y/n trippin on him again?" Yuuji inquired, to which Megumi nodded in confirmation.

"Why doesn't he just...idk take a break or end things. They went from the it couple of the meet ups to that old miserable couple who hate each other but stay together for the kids and mortgage." Toji laughed at Yuuji's analogy of his and your relationship.

As the night wore on, Toji retreated into brooding silence, nursing his wounded pride. you, to hurt to stay, stormed off into the night, leaving behind a trail of regrets and unresolved emotions.

The weeks following that pivotal night were filled with tension and distance for you and Toji. What was once a vibrant relationship had deteriorated into a fragile shell of its former self. Intimacy had become a distant memory—

No more shared moments of passion, no lazy mornings in each other's embrace, no whispered promises. Instead, your interactions were marked by tense exchanges and the heavy weight of unspoken issues weighing on you and Toji's mind.

Toji sought solace in the familiar clang of tools and the smell of motor oil at the mechanic shop. It became his sanctuary, a place to bury himself in work, tuning up cars before and after races, avoiding the suffocating atmosphere of his once-shared apartment.

His boss and uncle, Naobito, initially tried to send Toji home at reasonable hours. But seeing the turmoil in his young mechanic, he relented, letting Toji work as long as he needed to find peace in the roaring engines and the adrenaline-fueled world of street racing.

Days stretched into weeks, and Toji's absence from home became the new normal. He spent his evenings at Geto's or Sukuna's place, smoking, chilling and talking about life and racing. He liked being around them. They understood the allure of the fast life and how the life is, especially for him.

When Toji finally returned home, it was almost three weeks since he had last stepped foot in the apartment. Exhausted, he unlocked the door, hoping for a moment of peace, but you were waiting for him, your eyes blazing with anger.

The sight of Toji, worn and distant, triggered a burst of accusations and pent-up frustrations. “Where the hell you been, Toji? Do you even care anymore?” Your voice cracked with anger and hurt.

Toji just sighed not wanting to argue with you as soon as he got through the door. He opted for silence, but you pushed on again

“Toji, where the hell have you been?” you demanded again, your voice sharp. “You think you can just disappear for weeks and not tell me where you are?”

Toji, weary from weeks of turmoil and external pressure, finally snapped. “You think I don’t care? You think this is easy for me? Plus, I’ve been working, racing. I needed some space."

His words were sharp, each syllable laced with bitterness and exhaustion. He was trying not to unleash everything that had been brewing inside him for weeks.

“Man, miss me with that,” you fired back, tears streaming down your face. “You been out here actin’ like I don’t exist. You think I’m stupid? You out there wit’ somebody else? and what's this bullshit about Space...SPACE! You needed space, so you just leave me here, not knowing if you’re dead or alive? You didn’t even call!”

Toji’s eyes flashed with frustration. “I ain’t been with nobody else! I’ve been at the shop, tryin’ to get my mind right. But you always jumpin’ to conclusions. I didn't wanna fight with you almost every night after a day at the shop. I just needed to clear my head."

“You expect me to believe that? You ain’t been home in weeks, Toji! Weeks! and you talking shit about clearing your head” you shouted, your voice rising with every word.

“Clear your head?” you echoed again, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “You mean avoid your responsibilities. Avoid me. Toji, this isn’t working,” you said, your voice breaking. “You’ve been gone for weeks, and you didn’t even think to call me. What am I supposed to think?”

“I needed space! You don’t get it, do you? Every time I come home, it’s like walkin’ into a battlefield. I can’t breathe here! You think I was out there having fun? I was working my ass off, trying to keep my head above water! And you? You didn’t check on me either! You didn’t care if I was alive or dead!”

Toji yelled back, his frustration boiling over.

“That’s not fair, Toji! You shut me out!” you shouted, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt. “You didn’t give me a chance! You needed space? So you just leave? Just like that? What about us? What about our plans, our dreams?” you cried, desperation seeping into your voice.

“Toji, I’m tired of this!” you yelled, your frustration boiling over. “You never take anything seriously! Not our relationship, not your future. You just coast by, doing the bare minimum.”

Toji scoffed, “That's bull shit and you know it I've been busting my ass trying to make something of myself. All you do is nag and push and talk and push and fucking frustrate me and the fuck you mean by plans? dreams? You mean your plans, your dreams. You never asked what I wanted. You just assumed. You pushed and pushed until there was nothing left of me but your expectations.”

“Nah, that’s bullshit!” you cried. “I was tryin’ to make you see your worth. You got talent, Toji. You could be somethin’ big, but you stuck in that damn garage like you scared of success! Why can’t you see that I just want what’s best for you?"

“You don’t get it!” Toji roared back, his face contorted with pain and anger. “I love working on cars. I love racing. It ain’t about throwin’ away potential. It’s about doin’ what makes me happy. But you... you always want more. Nothing is ever enough for you NOTHING I DO OR TRY IS ENOUGH!”

“So it’s wrong to want the best for you? For us?” you countered, desperation creeping into your voice. “We had dreams, Toji. Big dreams. What happened to those?”

“They turned into your dreams, not mine,” Toji shot back. “You never asked what I wanted. You just assumed. You pushed and pushed until there was nothing left of me but your expectations.”

“You think I’m just naggin’ you? You think I don’t want you to be happy? I just wanted us to be happy. To build somethin’ real,” you whispered, your voice breaking.

Toji’s voice, when he spoke again, was cold and detached. “I can’t do this anymore,” he declared.

“I’m done, Y/n,” Toji said, his voice cold. “I’m done fighting. I’m done trying to be someone I’m not for you.”

Toji stared at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he pulled out his phone and dialed Sukuna’s number.

“Yo, Sukuna. I need your help. Can you come over and help me move my stuff?”

Your shock turned to disbelief, then to a desperate plea. “Toji, please, don’t do this. We can work through this, I promise.”

Toji paused, his gaze hardening. “Nah, it’s too late for promises,” he said flatly, his eyes devoid of emotion.

“Sukuna,” Toji said into the phone, “I need you to come over. Help me move out.”

Sukuna’s voice came through the phone, confused and concerned. “What’s going on, man? You sure about this?”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Toji replied, glancing at you. “I need to get out of here.”

As he hung up, you continued to shout at him, your voice desperate and raw. “You can’t just leave, Toji! You can’t just walk out on us!”

Toji ignored your pleas, moving through the apartment with a sense of finality. He packed his belongings swiftly, each item a silent testament to your shattered dreams.

Pulling out a wad of cash, he dropped it on the table. “Cover my share of the expenses. It's about 15k”

Overwhelmed by a mixture of emotions—anger, sadness, betrayal—you snatched the money and flung it at Toji hitting him in the back. “I don’t want your damn money!” Your voice cracked with emotion, your heart breaking with each passing moment.

Toji picked up the cash calmly, placing it on a side table without a second glance. He took off his apartment keys, dropping them next to the money. “Use it or not, I don’t care anymore.” His voice was hollow, his gaze distant as he turned away.

“You runnin’ away again, Toji! Just like you always do when things get tough!” you shouted, anger and pain mixing into a volatile cocktail.

Toji froze, his back to you. Slowly, he turned around, his expression hardened by years of unresolved conflict. “Maybe I am,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

“But I can’t keep pretending everything’s okay when it’s not. I’m tired, Y/n. I’m tired of fighting, of trying to live up to your expectations. I need space to figure things out.” Toji said dejected rubbing his temples.

Just as the tension reached its peak, there was a knock at the door. Sukuna entered; his usual smirk replaced with a look of concern. “Yo, you really doin’ this, Toji?”

Toji nodded, his resolve unwavering. “Yeah, I’m done. Just need to be out of here.”

You followed them through the house, your pleas growing more desperate. “Toji, please! Don’t do this. We can fix this; I know we can!”

Sukuna glanced at Toji, his brow furrowed. “You sure about this, man? You wanna throw all this away?”

Toji’s frustration boiled over, and he snapped at Sukuna. “I said, I’m sure! Just help me pack and let’s get out of here!”

Sukuna nodded, silently helping Toji gather his things. You trailed behind, tears streaming down your face, your heart breaking with each passing moment.

“Toji, you can’t just walk away. What about all the good times? What about us?” you begged, your voice cracking.

Toji paused, his eyes filled with a mix of sadness and determination. “I’m sorry, Y/n. I really am. But I can’t keep doing this. I need to breathe. I need to be me, without all this pressure.”

You watched helplessly as Toji packed his belongings, his movements mechanical and distant. In a desperate attempt to stop him, you grabbed at his clothes, trying to yank them out of his hands. “Toji, don’t go. Don’t leave me like this.”

Toji, startled by your physical resistance, tugged his clothes back with a firm grip. “Let go, Y/n. This ain’t gonna change nothin’.”

“Stop it, Toji! Just stop!” you screamed, your voice filled with a mix of rage and desperation. “You can’t do this to us!”

The tussle escalated, both of you pulling at his belongings until Toji managed to wrench them from your grasp. “Enough!” he shouted, his voice echoing through the apartment.

Breathing heavily, you looked at him with tear-filled eyes, your voice a trembling whisper. “I hate you, Toji. I wish I never met you.”

Toji froze, his eyes widen at your words, his expression one of shock and pain. He stared at you; his voice dangerously quiet. “Say that again.”

“I said I hate you! I wish I never met you!” you repeated, each word cutting through the air like a knife.

Toji’s face hardened, the weight of your words settling heavily on his shoulders. Slowly, he reached for the double Cuban link bracelets on his wrists, removing them one by one. He placed them gently on the coffee table, followed by the matching ring and the promise ring you both exchanged on Valentine’s Day last year.

He looked at you one last time, his voice filled with a cold finality. “I hope you’re happy now. Goodbye, Y/n."

With those words, Toji turned away, grabbing his packed bags and walking out the door without a backward glance. Sukuna lingered for a moment, casting a sympathetic look your way before following Toji out of the apartment.

Alone in the silence that followed, you collapsed onto the couch, tears streaming down your face. The apartment felt emptier than it ever had before, the air thick with the weight of shattered dreams and unresolved emotions.

Weeks turned into months, and the ache in your heart slowly dulled to a persistent throb. Toji’s absence became a void you learned to live with, the memories of happier times a bittersweet reminder of what once was.

You threw yourself into your studies, burying your pain in the relentless pursuit of your dreams. Architecture became your sanctuary, a place where you could lose yourself in the creative process, if only temporarily.

Occasionally, you caught glimpses of Toji’s life through mutual friends or social media—snapshots of him at races, laughing with Sukuna and Geto, the tattooed sleeves on his arms a stark reminder of how much had changed.

Sometimes you'd even attend street races, it's been apart of your routine for so long. It was hard to stop.

And yet, despite the passage of time, a part of you couldn’t let go. The memories of Toji—

𝕆𝕟𝕖, 𝔼𝕔𝕙𝕠𝕖𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕡𝕒𝕤𝕥

You hadn't planned on driving through this part of town. Memories lurked here, painful and poignant, like ghosts whispering from every corner. Your hands tightened on the steering wheel as you navigated familiar streets, the echoes of old arguments and broken promises haunting your thoughts.

The engine of your car hummed steadily, a contrast to the erratic beat of your heart. The shop came into view, its neon sign with the words Zenin Auto's flickering even in the bright midday sun.

As you approached, the sound of an all-too-familiar song filled the air, blending with the scent of gasoline and burnt rubber. "Same Old Song" by The Weeknd. Ironic, really.

You saw him before he saw you. Toji was at the center of the garage, his presence commanding, even now. His back was turned, engrossed in conversation with Sukuna near the open hood of a sleek, black Dodge Hellcat.

Sukuna, his lean frame leaning casually against the car, glanced up and caught your eye with a grimace, his cigarette dangling from his lips as usual. He nudged Toji, and Toji turned slowly, a spark of recognition igniting in his eyes.

Toji looked different yet the same. His muscles seemed more defined, his sleeves of his jumpsuit tied around his waist to reveal new tattoos that snaked up his arms like wild vines. A silver lip ring gleamed on the opposite side of his lip scar, a bold addition to his rugged appearance.

His hair, always a bit tousled, now fell just a touch longer, framing his face in a way that made your heart ache with nostalgia. He wore his usual navy-blue jumpsuit with the sleeves tied around his waist, paired with black Timberland work boots and a black fitted vest.

You felt frozen, caught between the urge to turn away and the magnetic pull of unfinished business. Your car idling in front the shop. Memories flooded back, unbidden. Late nights spent waiting for him to come home, the scent of motor oil clinging to his clothes.

The fierce arguments, the passionate reconciliations, and the relentless push from you for him to strive for more. You had meant well, always. But sometimes, love alone couldn't bridge the gap between two people heading in different directions.

Toji's gaze locked onto yours, his expression unreadable at first. For a fleeting moment, it seemed as though time had stood still. Then, a flicker of something crossed his face—was it surprise, regret, or resignation?

He scoffed lightly, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he lifted a joint to his mouth and lit it with practiced ease. The flame briefly illuminated the scar on his lip, a mark you used to trace with your fingers in quieter times.

"What the hell is she doing here?" Toji thought, the anger he had buried resurfacing. "After all this time, she just shows up. For what?"

The sight of you, unchanged yet somehow different, tugged at memories he had tried to bury beneath the noise of the racing engines and the smoke of his joint.

He remembered the way your eyes sparkled when you smiled, the softness of your touch that could soothe even his fiercest temper. But alongside those memories, there was also the weight of unresolved issues, the fear of falling back into old patterns that had left you both scarred.

Your thoughts were a whirlwind. "Why does he have to look so good?" you wondered, struggling to maintain your composure. "Does he even care that I'm here? Does he even miss me?"

In that charged silence, you found yourself grappling with a whirlwind of emotions.

The lyrics of the song playing in the background seemed to mock you both.

And now I'm poppin', yeah Ain't nobody showed me how I made it big poppin', yeah Tell me how you like me now I swear I loved you, girl,

a bitter reminder of the love you had once shared and the pain that had torn you apart.

Toji wanted to say something, anything, to break the tension that crackled between you. But pride and stubbornness held his words captive, leaving only the smoke of his joint to fill the silence.

"She really had the nerve to come here," Toji thought, his jaw tightening. "Ain't no way I'm letting her see me sweat."

In that suspended moment, neither of you moved. You could feel Sukuna's eyes on you, a silent observer to the reunion that neither of you had expected.

Toji's jaw tightened imperceptibly as he pushed a hand through his hair, breaking eye contact and turning away with a dismissive gesture. The casualness of the gesture masked the turmoil beneath the surface, a storm of conflicting emotions that threatened to engulf you both.

"I should just leave," you thought, the weight of the past too heavy to bear. But before you could gather your thoughts, Toji turned his back completely, disappearing deeper into the shadows of the garage. Sukuna's lingering gaze followed you as you stood there, grappling with the weight of unfinished conversations and unresolved feelings.

"Toji really gonna let her presence fuck his head up like this?" Sukuna thought, watching Toji retreat.

The decision was made in a heartbeat. With a deep breath, you turned the wheel sharply, the tires squealing in protest as you sped away from the shop and the ghosts of the past that lingered there.

As the distance between you and Toji grew, you fought to steady your trembling hands and quiet the storm of emotions raging within.

[yuna542]

Note/Disclaimer at the beginning:

I do not want to romanticize or trivialize (domestic) violence, suicide, drugs, and toxic relationships in this story. If these topics trigger you, then you should rather skip this story. If not, I hope you enjoy the little OBX Story I had in my drafts for forever and I've finally written down. If you are experiencing domestic violence, as hard as it is, tell someone, whether it's a friend, a teacher, or a family member. You are not alone <3

——-

Soundtrack:

⏯️Play: Wait a Minute by WILLOW

“Hold on, wait a minute

Feel my heart's intention, oh Hold on, wait a minute

I left my consciousness in the sixth dimension

Left my soul in his vision”

Prologue

Now I'm sitting here in a hammock in front of an old fishing shack in the swamp, trying to figure out how to tell this story in a structured way while my life is actually a complete mess. Well, before you read this, you should know three things: First of all, Hey! I'm a Kook. But not just any Kook. I’m Skylar Diaz the Kook Princess. At least that's what most people call me, since my family owns one of the largest ferry companies in the US. At least the part of it that's still left. I have built up this reputation over the years and have also lived up to it in a petty and clichéd way. The typical rich spoiled girl living in an estate in the Outer Banks. A brat and arrogant little bitch. The most popular girl at school, desired by all the boys and envied by the rest. With her perfect little family, hip friends, like the Camerons and no money problems at all. The perfect Barbie Dream Life.

But it wasn't always that way. Little Trauma Dump: My father was from the Cut, the South Side of the island. That's where those who make their living as waiters, yacht cleaners or skippers live and work. My mother was also from the Cut, which few people know. She and my dad fell in love and had me. Their perfect little star. My father was a very ambitious man who actually managed to become a police officer and was even promoted to detective on the mainland. However, he died on a job when I was six years old. So I have hardly any memories of him. A short time later, my mother started a relationship with Rick. He was my father's best friend and the richest man in the Outer Banks at that point. So all our money problems were forgotten and I have been raised and lived in a huge mansion in Figure Eigth ever since. The fancy Island Club, big parties and banquets, as well as expensive clothes were now part of my life. I played the role of the rich and arrogant princess flawlessly and knew how to present myself to survive among all the scavengers. And for quite a while I really liked this life.

Next, I should mention: All of this is a lie. Nothing in my life ever went perfectly, even if everyone thought it did. My mother committed suicide when I was only 16 years old. Everything fell apart as a result. My relationship with my stepfather Rick was disastrous even before that, but it got a lot worse in the months after “the incident”, how he liked to call it. I was never allowed to talk about it again and to call it what it was: A big shitty tragedy which ripped my life apart from that point on. We moved away from the Outer Banks and lived in Nassau for a year. Rick had always had a fondness for alcohol, but that year it took on proportions that made my life more than difficult. We never talked about my mother's death again. That was okay, because I didn't understand it anyway and the less I thought about it, the better I felt. Meanwhile, Rick was a violent choleric who couldn't even control himself around his own daughter. My great "friends" stopped contacting me after only a week and had probably forgotten about me even faster.

And last but not least (that’s when the shitshow really started) : We were now moving back after this year and I had no idea what to expect of Kildare. According to Rick there were new business opportunities, but what did he actually tell me? Actually, I didn't care either. With my return began a crazy journey full of chaos, a lot of anger, sadness and no end of adventure. I ran into old friends and things escalated quickly. I learned things about my mother's death that made me more than suspicious, and gradually I began to suspect that her death had not been a suicide after all. My father's death also suddenly seemed to be no longer a coincidence and I learned a lot about my roots and especially about treasure hunting.

Then there were the Pogues and a certain blond boy. My nemesis, who regularly drove me to white heat and equally to madness. But let's start at the beginning:

[-Press Start]

[warabidakihime]

Beneath the Orange Sky

Characters: University Student! Gojo Satoru x Reader | Implied College AU | lowkey taylor swift coded

Synopsis: Beneath the orange sky, hand in hand, we find solace amidst life's chaos, a quiet moment that speaks of our unwavering love and the promise of a shared journey. Together, we are unstoppable, ready to face the world and create a story that defies the odds.

Content warning: mentions of toxic family members and profanities.

--

"Fucking hate that bitch with all my heart." 

Satoru whipped his head in your direction at the speed light, and for a split second he suffered from a minor whiplash. His voice was a pitch higher than usual when he spoke, "I beg your pardon. Who’s got you all riled up, sweetheart?"

You looked at him, your eyes a mixture of indifference and conflict. You huffed as you continued to look at the horizon with a million things racing through your mind. "My mother."

"What did she do this time?" He groaned as the image of the bane of your existence appeared in his mind. He, too, despises that woman with all his heart and soul.

"Nothing new; I just finally came to the realization that I really hate her with a passion." You said with a humorless chuckle.

"And what triggered that train of thought? Care to share?" Satoru said as his arm found its way around your waist and pulled you close to him. He then places a sweet kiss on top of your head, his lips lingering a second later as he shamelessly inhales your intoxicating scent.

You instinctively leaned your head on his arm, seeking comfort from your golden retriever of a boyfriend. "The other night, she welcomed herself in my room. She said she wanted to fold the laundry in my room since I have the AC on and it’s blistering hot outside. At first I was like, ‘whatever’ and just minded my own business, but as she stayed longer in my room, with her phone blasting in full volume, her making herself comfortable on my bed as if she hadn’t scarred her daughter mentally and emotionally, her audacious aura and obscenely entitled ass, all of it were hanging in the room, I found myself suffocating."

As you told your tale, Satoru’s grip on you tightened, and from time to time you’d feel his hand gliding up and down your sides as if it were his way of consoling you while you opened up to him. And so you continued, "I was watching something on YouTube, and for the most part, I was invested in what I was watching, but even with both of my earphones properly placed in my ears, I can still hear her damn phone, and for some reason, moments later, I started to hear her own breathing too. It infuriated me, and it took everything in me not to snap. I hate her. I fucking hate her so much."

So much venom was slipping through your lips, but as sad and cruel as your tale was, your eyes were devoid of any emotions. At this point, you are way past weeping about the spilled milk that is your mother and your relationship with her. Gone were the days when you would beg on your knees for any semblance of decency from her.

So why are you still living with her? Well, as much as you wanted to bolt out the door, you simply couldn't, as your current savings can only last for so long. Of course, Satoru more than willingly offered help, but because of your sick pride, you kindly declined his offer. You wanted to prove to your mother and pretty much all your toxic family that you can and will rise from the ashes using only your resources. They’ve downplayed your capabilities so much that you made it your life’s mission to fucking show them that you will someday succeed, and all of them won’t be able to say anything but the same old, bitter things.

Fortunately, graduation is just around the corner, and you can finally set your plans in motion. You were absorbed by the company you interned for, and you will start shortly after graduating. The salary and other benefits they offered you were promising, so saving up won’t be a struggle for you anymore. You and Satoru actually agreed to live together after graduation, and you’re in the process of looking for an apartment as we speak. Meanwhile, Satoru will work for a different company, but like yours, his is also highly promising, so the future ought to be very bright for the two of you.

All you have to do now is hold your breath and be patient. Just a couple more strides, and you’re finally on your own. The impending changes that will occur in your life terrify you, but in order to welcome more good things into your life, you need to take the first step, no matter how hard it is, and besides, you have Satoru by your side.

Satoru’s voice woke you up from your stupor, "Why don’t you stay over at my place tonight?"

You looked at him again and smiled appreciatively. You stood on your tippy toes and gave him a sweet kiss on the lips, which he gladly reciprocated. "I would love to." you replied in between kisses.

Now, both of his arms are encircled around your tiny frame, and he has engulfed you in a bone-crushing hug. "Don’t bother going home to get some change of clothes; you already have plenty in my closet."

You chuckled, "God, I love you. You're a godsend, Satoru."

Your beanstalk of a lover shrugged his shoulders shortly after he momentarily pulled away from the embrace, and when you looked at him, he was already wearing his smug smile. "Tell me something I don’t know, sweetheart."

As you embraced the comforting presence of Satoru, a breeze gently rustled through the rooftop, carrying a hint of anticipation for the future. The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm orange glow over the cityscape. With his arms around you, you felt a sense of security—a feeling you hadn't known for a long time.

You looked up at Satoru, your gaze meeting his intense yet playful eyes. "You know," you began, "even with all the chaos in my life, I can't help but feel hopeful."

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh, really? And what's making you feel that way?"

You grinned, teasing him a bit. "Well, it might have something to do with the fact that you're not just my saving grace but also the one who makes my heart race."

Satoru chuckled, his signature confident smirk playing on his lips. "Well, it's not every day you get a real-life hero swooping in, is it?"

You lightly nudged him, savoring this playful moment. "Yeah, but you're more than that. You're my partner in crime, my confidant, and soon, my roommate."

"Ah, the adventure begins," he mused, rubbing his chin as if pondering the grandness of it all. "Living together, working together, and building a future together. I can't wait."

"Me neither," you admitted, nestling against him. "It's like stepping into a new chapter, and this time, I'm not alone. That's what gives me hope."

He tightened his embrace, his chest rumbling with a deep, comforting laugh. "You've got me, and I'm not going anywhere, sweetheart. We'll face everything together, and if life throws any more challenges our way, we'll just handle them like the unstoppable team we are."

A quiet understanding passed between you—a shared acknowledgment of the hurdles that life had thrown your way but also the unwavering determination to rise above them all. The horizon before you held the promise of a brighter future, and as you stood there, feeling Satoru's strong presence by your side, you knew that together, you could handle anything.

With a final tender look, you took Satoru's hand, intertwining your fingers, and began to walk away from the rooftop. As you descended the stairs, you glanced back at the sunset-painted sky, a sense of peace settling over you. The challenges ahead might not be easy, but with your resilience, Satoru's unwavering support, and the love that bound you together, you were ready to face them head-on.

And so, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the world in shades of warmth, you walked hand in hand with the man who had become your anchor, your partner, and your hope for a brighter tomorrow.

Together, you were ready to embrace the future and whatever it might bring.

[escapetothelake]

Mr Crow & Mr Owl for the ship asks ;)

when i say this is one of my absolute FAVORITE dynamics (remember when i said it would be toxic? i made it way too sweet oops)

i'm gonna tag @callmegaith for this one as well because ik they are also an evil bird husbands truther >:)

btw sorry this took so long i'm on vacation and have spotty internet :,)

who made the first move: i think mr. owl likely first contacted mr. crow. we know that they were working together since at least the events of roots, so it's been a very long time.

who kissed who first: aldous started by kissing jakob's ring, and then graduated to his bare hand (it's about the homoerotic tension 🤌). eventually, jakob kissed aldous on the lips. aldous was all too happy to kiss back.

who started the relationship: mr. owl did, as mr. crow is technically his underling, and aldous is a man who is concerned with propriety.

who remembers things: both of them remember EVERYTHING.

nicknames for each other: jakob strikes me as a "my love" user. i think they both say it, actually. i don't think "darling", "dear", or "dearest" is out of the question. also "beloved", "precious", "my treasure", "lover", and "dumpling" cuz these bitches are OLD.

who is more likely to pay for dinner: i feel like they'd be the kind of couple to fight over the bill, calling it "my treat".

*they're eating out together and the bill arrives* "ah. let me get this one, darling." "no, you got it last time. it's my treat." "no, it's my treat. you know how i love to spoil you." "alright dear, but next time..." "hah! we'll see."

that said, usually jakob is more persistent.

who normally cooks: have i ever actually answered this question with "x person in the couple does it"? yeah, mr. owl runs a hotel, and he has mr. toad to cook for him. though jakob knows how to cook, considering that he was on his own for a while and we saw it happen onscreen and everyone else at paradise is incompetent. i'm sure aldous knows how to as well. i think aldous likes to cook for jakob, and he makes an art out of it, incorporating expensive wines and fancy herbs and the like. only the best for his beloved.

who remembers anniversaries: both, of course. they have minds like steel traps when it comes to each other.

what would they get each other for gifts: suits, expensive jewelry and pocket watches, taking each other out to eat, all kinds of stuff! i imagine they're the kind of couple to share a glass of wine to a job well done after they successfully harvest souls.

most trivial thing they fight over: i wouldn't call it trivial, but i think jakob was at least a little upset with aldous for fucking up that one time. i think that incompetence of any sort exhausts jakob after his experiences at home (like this post haha). not that he views aldous as incompetent in any way—after all, he chose him to be his right hand—but, i mean, he goofed in a pretty big way. regardless, jakob can't stay mad at aldous for long.

how often do they fight: they don't really fight much. i think aldous finds shouting disrespectful, and they mostly work in tandem, so it doesn't happen often. when it does, though, i feel like it's a big deal. i mean, a long time without speaking and a lot of pining, because both men can be stubborn. eventually, though, they can't stand to be apart.

who uses all the hot water: both.. together :)

who calls up the super/landlord when the heat’s not working: aldous. he doesn't want jakob to have to deal with that shit

who leaves their stuff around: they're both rather organized. mr. crow meticulously folds his clothes after washing them, even though it takes forever, and both men keep their suits nice and pressed.

who remembers to buy the milk: aldous gets it! he never lets jakob want for anything—the fridge is always stocked before jakob even has to ask.

who controls the netflix queue: i think they watch netflix together, cuddled up in bed or on the couch. aldous asks a million questions. jakob always answers, even if that answer is "i know the same amount of information as you, dearest".

who steals the covers at night: no one really can, since they sleep tangled together.

who cusses more: jakob when he was younger. now? neither, really.

who does most of the cleaning: aldous, or he sees that someone else does it. he doesn't like to let jakob worry about such things.

what’s their favorite non-sexual activity: talking! they really, really enjoy each others' company, whether that's over a glass of wine surrounded by candlelight, in the bath, or in bed. both of these men have had very long lives, so they have much to talk about.

who’s the cuddler: both! birds are cuddly :>

source

who’s the big spoon/little spoon: usually it's jakob big/aldous little. aldous likes to rest his head on jakob's chest (i hc that jakob is taller).

who’s more dominant: mr. owl.

who is the dirty talker: their brand of "dirty talking" imo is more like pillow talk. idk they're just pretty affectionate and like to praise each other. however, i'm gonna lean aldous for this one. i think aldous absolutely WORSHIPS jakob, and he makes it known both in and out of the bedroom.

what do they do when they’re away from each other: miss each other. a lot. both are mutually reliant on each other—aldous makes sure to make jakob's life easier, and jakob in turn gives aldous a sense of direction. therefore, their separation can be hard on both of them. they try to busy themselves with other things (there's a lot of work to be done), and remind themselves that ultimately, they serve the lake.

what would they do if the other one was hurt: both would be very worried, but the injured one would try to put on a brave face for the other. of course, both of them are seemingly immortal, but they also know what it's like to be mortal men, and the memories are all too fresh. they're very protective of each other.

a headcanon: i think that they both struggle to adapt with the times, even if they feel that they need to. for instance, they don't like to give up their old-timey pet names for each other, and mr. crow doesn't like the new-age suits. of course, he grins and bears it because it's part of being immortal, but he still believes that it doesn't matter because.. i mean.. they can turn into birds. being inconspicuous isn't exactly important to him. on the other hand, jakob kinda likes playing different roles to suit his needs. we see this in the white door, for instance. i think it allows him to live out some of the things he missed out on in his youth, whereas aldous got to live out a full life. regardless, as the times change, the biggest constant they have is each other.

[inu-yasha]

I used to think kagome loved inuyasha for his looks since it did happen but I don’t actually know if it’s for anything else but I do know that kikyo didn’t actually care for what he looked like she only cared because how he acted do you think this is right? Because my head is spinning with questions if kagome and inuyasha love was even true love or kikyos and inuyasha is just puppy love since many people said so

Did she love him for his looks? I have no idea, but her 'love' is not 'love', it is a sick obsession.

The problem is that it was supposed to look like Inu//kag had a more mature love, all the dialogues on Kagome and Inuyasha's side were supposed to confirm it, but it all disappears when Kikyou appears and Kagome's jealousy. Kagome can't stop hating Kikyou. She wants Inuyasha for herself, she wants him to only think about her, she even left her daughter and went with Inuyasha instead of choosing her daughter's good. This tells her a lot and confirms that she doesn't exist without him, she can't leave him because she can't live without him and he is much more important than her own daughter. If Kagome was such a loving mother, she would have stayed with her daughter instead of choosing Inuyasha. I still don't understand how she could choose Inuyasha over her own daughter, believing that Kouga would be a good guardian for her. Like ftw.

I'm making this argument that everything Kagome did for Kikyou, her final cry, everything was a mask to make everyone believe that she was a good person, it was all to make everyone around her see her the way she wanted, when in fact, she's a really bad person.

she can't accept that Inuyasha will love Kikyou much more even though her wish came true. She won't free him from the beads because she doesn't trust him and prefers to keep them and use them when she has hurt feelings about Kikyou She didn't let Inuyasha leave with Kikyou, knowing that he wanted to go to her, but she wouldn't let him have her. She wants him just for herself! They didn't leave him, even when it came to their daughter's well-being.

I won't deny that Inuyasha has feelings for Kagome, but he would never look at her if it weren't for Kikyou's soul in her body.

Kagome is a very toxic woman who thinks she is always right and there is no problem, but in fact her love is selfish and egoistic. The only thing she cared about was her own well-being so that Inuyasha wouldn't leave her.

It's always Inuyasha who puts aside his own suffering for Kagome. She never does this. When he is with Kikyou, she runs away and is furious and abuses him because she can't deal with her feelings

Even when Kikyou dies, Rumiko shows that Kagome suffers more than him. Which is absurd to me.

Kagome doesn't notice her mistakes and doesn't work on manipulating everyone to be on her side, and manipulating Inuyasha when she is hurt was much easier than working on herself, because she has nothing to reproach herself with, right? And it stays the same until the end. He never learns, instructing Inuyasha. Absurd.

I'm not saying this as a hater, I'm just reading the facts. Kaogme's side is the biggest problem. inuyasha and kagome have many problems, and kagome is the problem itself, but rumiko wanted to show that through annoying arguments they love each other. Kagome has many good ideas, but she ignores them and becomes immature.

Kagome and Inuyasha's love is puppy love. Not my thing to offer. They are the same as at the beginning of the chapters. Inuyasha is stuck in a toxic relationship with a person who is a self-centered and manipulative person who puts him above his own daughter while still being jealous of her past life. How can I describe it other than obsession?

Kikyou, despite her hatred, didn't stop loving him. Her feelings were very real, she took his feelings into account, there was a moment in the manga when she told him to leave because her friends would worry about him, and she was grateful for him being with her. This is completely different. Kikyou sees him as a person with feelings and takes his feelings into account

Inuyasha is calmer and more mature around her, which cannot be said about him when he is with Kagome, where in the marriage it really shows how repressed he is and is afraid to say anything about Kikyou because he knows how much Kagome is about her.

Sure, InuKik is imperfect, but it doesn't matter, what matters is the depth. Kikyou just wanted to live like a normal woman, she found peace because her dream came true. Meanwhile, Kagome will be forever bitter and hateful towards Kikyou whom she wished for death and her wish came true, but even the fact that Inuyasha still loves her and thinks about her makes her jealous and furious.

This goes back to show that kagome isn't going through any emotional or physical development, so her relationship with inuyasha has changed from friends to husband and wife, but nothing has actually changed about them. It's still puppy love and it will never mature because Kagome won't mature.

The epilogue is a perfect summary of kagome's lack of development and her relationship with inuyasha.

In my opinion, if you want to come to your own conclusions, read the manga. I said what I thought according to my conscience and perception. For me, inu//kag is puppy love and InuKik is a mature relationship and Kikyou respects him as a person and takes his feelings into account.

[engagemachine]

How do you feel about the Joker in your story? Do you hate this character?

@ferrsryserstonin

Hello! Thank you for your ask. I'm sorry this one took so long to answer. I just wanted to make sure I had set aside an appropriate amount of time to give you a thorough answer.

How do I feel about the Joker in Burn?

Well, I hate him.

But I love to hate him.

I've spoken a lot in the past about my fascination with the character of Joker -- my obsession has been ongoing for almost fifteen years now, since TDK first came out back in 2008 -- but I've been fascinated with the character ever since I was a little kid and saw him in comic books and in the media as I was growing up. I think the Joker was my first exposure to a character who was so openly evil and who loved being evil, and that always intrigued me.

Good and evil was so black and white to me when I was little, strictly in the sense that I was taught that being evil was bad and wrong it made you into a miserable person... so to be faced with this character who swung so assuredly in one direction -- and who had so much fun doing it -- was just so crazy to me. While growing up, I'd been exposed to a lot of villains who could be categorized as being more "tortured souls", or who openly struggled with good and evil (Darth Vader, for instance, is a great example of that) or even villains who were burdened by some other "greater" purpose, whether it was greed (a desire for power/money) or this sense of misplaced justice, or perhaps revenge. But the Joker isn't motivated by these things. And his total lack of a conscience means he doesn't struggle with being evil. He loves it. He is constantly looking for ways to be even more evil, to push the boundaries of what he is capable of. He fully embraces what he is. He loves the reign of terror and chaos he's brought down onto Gotham.

As I've gotten older, what constitutes as "good" and what constitutes as "evil" has obviously become less black and white, and there are far more gray areas to take into consideration, but that's kind of where the fun in writing him comes into play. I do think the Joker is evil to his core, but I have also enjoyed sprinkling in little bits of humanity here and there. It's never not thrilling to see the man behind the mask. I also like that, throughout the story, there are moments peppered throughout that really make you question whether he's just done something for his own pleasure and enjoyment, or if it's because he actually cares for Taylor. I think for the most part, the answer is usually fairly obvious, but there are instances that kind of make you wonder.

So do I hate his character? In a word, yes. I think he's evil, conniving, selfish, beyond redemption (this is important) and, if I believed in the death penalty, that he should probably/definitely be put to the electric chair. I base these opinions off my beliefs that a) the Joker is not mentally ill (like some interpretations would like to claim) and b) the Joker does not want to be redeemed. He is perfectly content with being the evil little shit that he is.

I'm going to link you to this post that I hope will shed some more light. I feel like people tend to ask if I "like" the Joker because they want to suss out whether there could possibly be any redeeming qualities to his character, and whether it's OK to want to see Taylor and him end up together (and correct me if I my assumption is wrong, but I'm also basing my reply around the questions you posed to me in the private message you sent).

The short answer is: of course it's okay to want to see them be together, and it's important for you, the reader (and for any other readers out there) to know that it doesn't make me upset if that is how you feel. I mean, that's the whole driving fascination with the story, right? This crazy, obsessive, and toxic dynamic they share... we can't get enough. They're polarized magnets, always inextricably drawn to each other no matter the distance.

But this is also a work of fiction, and therefore is a safe space in which to desire wanting to see these sorts of evil things play out. It goes without saying that I do not condone any of these behaviors in real life, and I am sure none of my readers do, either. If Taylor were a real person, I would scoop her up into my arms and hide her away from the Joker forever. She's been so deeply manipulated, groomed, and traumatized by him that she can barely differentiate up from down. He is her whole world but only by his design. Has has quashed -- at every single turn -- any hopes of Taylor ever having a normal life, because he's a selfish, manipulative bastard who only wants her for himself.

I think a lot of the fascination I have with this particular dynamic is that I love to see evil men be brought to their knees (or, at least, a close approximation to it) by the most unsuspecting person -- who in this case happens to be a seventeen year-old girl. There is no denying that their energy is borderline explosive when they're together. And I am here to tell you that that is okay to want to see that play out, to want to see their co-dependent relationship turn even more obsessive and dark than it already is. I don't think any of us would be here, reading this story, if we didn't enjoy -- at least a little bit -- the toxic dynamic that has slowly been unfolding for the past twelve chapters of Burn.

Anyway, I hope this adequately answers your questions. I love talking about the Joker and I'm happy to do so any time! Thank you for reading.

[shoheiakagi]

@bandousama replied to your post:

hi and ty for the questions about my silly little au! i love making ideas about it here and even getting some inputs from you guys! putting this under the cut since my response ended up being lengthy. pls feel free to ask any more questions or share your own thoughts!

Is this going to be a story?

I really do want to write this out, but unfortunately i dont really have any writing skills 🫤 it took me a while to draft out these few paragraphs that were meant to be a synopsis/prologue. maybe someday i’ll come around to write quick drabbles?? but if i have any writers following me, i’d be happy to commission this fic!

Will there be any drama between y/n and Shouhei? Like including a fight scene or something?

Even if this never gets written, i do imagine this au to have a lot of drama and the relationship between shouhei and y/n to become toxic (it’s inevitable; he’s a rockstar and she’s a model. there will be drug use and morals will be compromised to achieve fame). Both of them are also not in the right headspace in some parts of the story, with shouhei spiraling as he tries to make his own identity as a soloist, and y/n trying to make it alive in a cutthroat industry through any means possible.

In the synopsis, Shouhei is immediately reminded of those little ballerina figurines when he first sees y/n (y’k, the little docile ones that seems so fragile and is always locked away when the box is not being used). he gets infatuated and soon idealizes her as this pretty doll that he has to lock her away protect from this soul-sucking industry, purposely ignoring the fact that y/n is a complex person with her own flaws and bad decisions.

*spoiler alert* y/n has a bf when she meets shouhei, who she ends up cheating on with him

Is the rock band mainly about the abc boys or all of hrm?

All of hmr are featured, but i think I would focus more on the abc boys since im more interested in them

Is this a story just about Shouhei or all the other guys getting their own as well?

It’s primarily about shouhei, but the other guys also have their own unresolved issues and relationships to work out, which will def be mentioned bc i want to give all of the boys extra depth and characterization. i think i can see chitose being the secondary abc boy in this particular fic, since he’s the one in the worst condition out of the boys, and bc i lowkey might make shouhei and chitose have a closer friendship in this fic. basically a friendship where they get fucked up together and make even more bad decisions. but if i really were to write this out, i’d want each boys to have their own spin off.

What inspired you to think of this au?

its funny cause i was reading this fic in another fandom where person A is this fashion critic who attends a show where person B is modeling and they’re both immediately attracted to each other, when i was like ok but imagine shouhei in this au?? But i can’t see shouhei as some fashion critic, which is when I remember that i have this other au where the boys are like this popular rock band (used to be pop idol group when i first thought of this au), and that fits more since celebrities visit fashion shows (also guys, please ask me about this au too cause i have lot of thoughts about rockstars!hmr and the pop idol girl group thats their competition in terms of international popularity). only difference is that fic did not feature any toxic dynamics lol. also! the whole idea about hmr taking a break as a group, the members pursuing solo endeavors during the break, and shouhei making a lot of noise by being the first member to attend a high fashion event is based off the first few months of bts’ hiatus last year lmaoooo

Since Shouhei is the lead vocalist what do the other band members do?

I actually haven’t thought much of that, esp since hmr is too huge to be one band. so what i was thinking that maybe theyre all split up in different acts under the same company: mikoto originally being a solo rock artist before calling it quits because he couldnt handle the fame. he eventually forms his own small company that aligns better with his values. we have totsuka as the dreamy soloist who sings romantic ballads and wins the nation’s heart, yata and kamamoto being a hip-hop duo with lots of break dances, the abc boys being a rock band, and kusanagi being the manager who keeps everyone in check (look idk if this actually works out like this irl but canon has mikoto having an ample amount of money in savings and kusanagi owning tons of restaurants overseas so 🤷‍♀️)

with the abc boys, shouhei is the lead vocalist, chitose and dewa play the guitars, eric and fuji plays the bass with eric serving back up vocals, and bandou plays the drums.

[artekosm]

I feel so low.

I fell once again in the trap of texting my situationship. We met like nothing happened, kissed again, he took me to a spa, then to his mother for Easter lunch, and we had sex at her house. After that we went to walk in the city, saw some local gig, and then we went to a rave in the forest. I mean, by writing all this it seems like it was cool days, but i was overwhelmed by up and downs, caothic emotions, and unstable view of myself, like going from low self esteem to high.

I think we both have unstable moods and need stimulations, attentions. etc.

btw at the rave it was pure chaos, we took half of 2cb together, he was always running from friend to friend to say hi, to talk with them, I didn't want to be needy so i was trying to do my own stuff, respecting also my need to be alone sometimes. His friends are caothic and unpredictable, different moods, different age and kinda toxic in a a way.

then I met some of my friends and I stayed with them for some time, he got bit worried he couldn't find me , I took ketamine with them because he was also taking other drugs with his friend so I was kinda mirroring his behaviours. I didn't want to be left alone, without other drugs/stimulations, compared to him.

I mean it was maybe some sort of "revenge", from my side, but it was worth it. because I didn't want to be seen like a loner, waiting for him all the time.

so well we went back home, I slept at this place, I woke up and left because I had stuff to do.

he was bit disappointed because he expected me to stay longer. But I had to go.

he made me feel guilty because he said at this point he could have stayed with his friends a bit more at the rave. I feel guilty because we went back home mostly BC of me, because I needed to do my stuff early. ( but in the end I delayed my stuff because we woke up late anyway, so that's why he said that).

I cried while I was saying goodbye to him, maybe deep inside I knew that would be one of the last time we met. Because it went pretty stressy in way and I don't think our bond is worth fighting for... I don't feel we really love eachother. I think it's mostly the need to have someone close to you to cuddle, to have sex with, to get attention from... I mean if he would be a present awakened man maybe I would fall harder for him. but his energy is still emotionally unavailable, feel like a young boy wanting to just have fun with different girls and experience his years. although he is 30 years old 😅

well, idk what to say, i Just feel bad because now Im rotting in bed, having fever, sore throat, I cant eat properly. and I cannot go to school. It's the second time it happened since I meet with this guy. He made me feel like it's hard to concentrate on school topic, or my life tasks. Like if all the attention must be directed towards him.

Please god... help me get rid of his energy. Help me find my way to happiness. Help me find my soul back. 🫂🥺🥲 I just want to feel free and happy once again.

[theartblockcentral]

A Military Mistake

Okay, So this Is a new kind of embarrassing I cannot express.

I was positively shaking yesterday, numb and shaking- I went out shopping with my ma, and she took me for a milkshake at Maccies when I managed to finally spill my emotions out in the middle of T K Maxx to her. She told me that, when she was in high school, when her and her best friend got into heartbreaks, they would take each other for a milkshake at McDonalds, and she knew I needed it. Happily I went along, and I got a McFlurry.

After a pub quiz and a long awaited reunion (say... 11 years overdue?), I texted him and asked, how do you feel about getting married at this point? Thinking he'd give me a soppy enough response that i'd be so moved that I'd get over it.

'what?', he replied.

'about the marriage! Are you kidding? it's huge! and the army, and the colour-blindness?' (he's an artist in his soul so that was a turn of events on its own.)

'What are you talking about?'

'you said engagement, yes? You're proposing in October?'

'What are you on about? I said engagement in the military....'

'Do you even know what engagement means?'

'_____ I swear, someday you'll understand my english...'

'someday you'll speak english well enough that i'll understand.'

That's when I clocked it.

He doesn't speak English well, and it turns out that engagement and enlistment are two very close words in french. He was enlisting in the army.

A wave of choking relief came over me and I just... I have no idea what to say??? My mom laughed out loud, but I still feel bad about her giving me all this attention over apparently nothing, but she understood. I'm so glad she was there with me, though.

I told my therapist all about this (I love this woman, after a host of useless type As, I found someone who could finally understand me), let's call her Barnum, for my favourite type B. We were discussing this, because to be honest, I had no idea how to feel. i genuinely had no idea how to register any of this, because at my age, it's not exactly something that seems to happen every da. In fact, it's 200% more than it had been the day before. Or even the 20 years before this! Even still, it was one of the moments where I couldn't help but talk and keep talking, completely engrossed in my thoughts that I couldn't even register I was present.

That's the thing, I had no idea why it felt so weird. Everyone else seemed to have it worked out. They seemed happy with other people. I was still unable to send in a job application without, and people, had figured it out ahead of me. How to coexist, love and live with each other. I find it so difficult to get it together when it comes to others and it's all. So. Much. Effort. Why is it so much effort for me and so natural for everybody else?

(currently listening to Anti-hero by Taylor Swift)

To be honest, I find all socialising difficult. Because of my neurodivergency, and I mean this not as an excuse, but genuinely as a problem, I spend so much effort figuring out how to perfectly socialise, how to perfectly dress, how to do everything so well to fit into society that I can't keep it up all the time. I have had a toxic enough relationship. I've had so many toxic friendships. It's all enough to make you question about yourself.

Since I ent to Italy for those 6 months, I decided as a concrete decision, after everything, that maybe, just maybe, it wasn't worth it. Maybe I was just destined to be alone for the rest of my time. I'd become successful, and I'd make the world better from a distance. Kids weren't meant for me. A partner wasn't for me. When things got better, my grades at uni increased by around 15%. That's not nothing. I'm getting 2:1s now. I'm throwing my heart and soul into my work. I'm genuinely going somewhere.. but trying to please everyone every step of the way isn't worth it. I seem to have such a low opinion of myself. It took me a whole session of blabbing to finally admit it.

The best thing I can do for someone else is walk away.

I really want to change this stupid narrative. I have the ability to throw my heart into things like nothing else, but I'm so afraid of hurting others that I just don't think I'm worth all the hassle. People get so hurt. I just don't want to be a part of it.

At the end of the day, it hurt because I would have invested myself in him. Him. I genuinely have never felt this way, and I wish I had a way to explore it. I know he's not for me in that way. He has a girlfriend. He's dedicated. He's everything and he's perfect.. but he's someone's something. That's the problem. My heart throws itself at people who don't throw back, and jobs I don't want, because if I know it wouldn't be worth it, it stings a lot less, and there's less damage I can do. But, as Barnum told me, I need to start investing. I am worth investing in. I need to start trusting again.

I go up to university in a couple days, and I am jobless (an issue because that's a part of my modules) and I have to start emotionally investing.

God help me.

[pannman]

I got a request. The confrontation with Valentino at the club in "Welcome To Heaven" escalates and Sir Pentious takes an angelic bullet for Angel Dust, which lands his redeemed soul right in the middle of the Heaven Court.

Ok, VERY interesting concept I love it!

The Selfless Snake

Tw: Blood, mention of toxic relationship, slight angst, not sure if this counts as Canon character death since he is technically still alive

Sir Pentious saw Angel's face when he saw his boss. He didn't know the full extent of what was going on but he knew that it was serious. He had been trying to work up the courage to court Cherri bomb though failing epicly and hilariously every time. But he was ready to leave when everyone else was after seeing that Angel was so serious. And that was the plan. Until sweet oblivious darling Niffty took off in the worst possible direction. Angel tried to stop her but in the act Valentino saw him.

This lead a confrontation and Angel held his ground. Standing up to him which Pentious could tell was a hard thing for him to do. Angel got his point across and it seemed that although he would pay for it later today he had won. But as Angel turned Pentious noticed that infernal Moth pull out a blessed pistol. In an act of instinct he pushed Angel out of the way taking the bullet himself. He felt shooting pain up his spine and a pound of pressure from the point of entry before he fell to the ground.

Angel upon realizing was in shock and in tears. Sir pentious grabbed at the gapping bloody hole in his chest. He wasn't long for this world. He thought for sure he was a goner... but then he blinked.

"The court finds no evidence that- huh? What!?!" the woman speaking gasped with a look of shock and bewilderment. Gasps followed by whispers flooded the room. Sir Pentious though confused and a little scared waved awkwardly and smiled. "Hello" his discomfort was lessened when he heard a familiar voice.

"Pentious?!?" Charlie gasped her eyes wide in disbelief before joy took over. "You've-You've been redeemed!!!" Vaggie was next her looking surprised as well but also a little hurt though Pentious didn't know why. Charlie tried to gather her bearings and plead with the court. "Look there's proof right there! It can be done. We've done it!" The gasps rose around the room once again along with judging glances at the woman in charge. Pentious simply stayed silent and slightly confused.

Charlie before continuing looked over at Vaggie with a look of conflict and uncertainty before smiling and taking her by the hand. "Heaven may have been wrong about the exterminations but that doesn't mean that things can't change. That heaven can't right these wrongs. If we put on this belief that we are perfect we never try to improve. And this here is proof that people can improve. So why can't heaven do the same?" The quiet in the room gave away that everyone could tell she had a point. The woman in charge looked over at the smaller one who pleaded with her with her eyes.

She sighed. "This does change a lot. And it does warrant our attention to at least give it a chance. We will put the exterminations on hold for now while we assist with your redemption plan and do our own research. And if it plays out right... then maybe there is a future where the yearly extermination is eradicated for good. Now if you'll excuse me, I have much to discuss with my superiors" everyone exited and Charlie threw her arms around Pentious in literal tears.

"I can't believe my eyes! I'm so proud of you! But what happened? We stopped watching after Angel confronted Valentino." Sir pentious had a lot to tell them. "Well, it was quite intense I must say- wait what do you mean watching?"

[crowleygal]

Cas crit anon back, just anything that bugs you about Cas in general. I'm specifically looking for crit regarding his friendship with Dean, but doesn't have to just be Dean, it can be other charcters. Though it can just be Dean if you want. I already believe he babytrapped him twice and is too posessive and controlling with Dean's soul. Castiel is also extremely and toxically jeaous of Sam, and was abusive to him. And he wasn't great with Jack. But I think I'm missing stuff.

Sorry for taking so long. Been busy with work.

My feelings about Cas are complicated and changed a lot in the decade plus when he was on the show. I am primarily a Dean and Jensen fans so I do then to look at things from that POV.

When they first introduced Cas, I loved the character and I wanted more of him. I really enjoyed his scenes with Dean. It was nice that Cas was basically to Dean what Dean was to Sam. Someone who protected Dean and looked out for him and put him first. After multiple seasons of Dean revolving around Sam I was a nice change of pace. I enjoyed Cas as a character in his own right as well.

My feelings for Cas took a hit in s6. It seemed like TPTB tried to force a relationship between Cas and Sam. It always seemed to me that they tolerated each other for Dean's sake. I really disliked the whole, "its all Dean's fault trope" they used after Cas spent an entire year lying to Dean and doing things behind his back with Crowley and basically unleashed the leviathan and about Sam being back and then with Cas abadoning Dean in purgatory.

But there were still some good Dean and Cas scenes, like the one in A Little Slice of Kevin when Cas made sure Dean knew he tried. "You can't save anyone my friend, thought you try." I love the way Misha delievered this line. There was some good stuff in s9 and 10.

I guess my dislike like of Cas started after the introduction of Jack. Cas seemed like a totally different character. I didn't like the whole insta-family my 3 dads thing, it felt forced. Especially after we saw Jack brainwash Cas. Jack promised paradise but it seemed like he was useless every step of the way. I hated the whole fight thing in s15 because they swept Mary's death under the rug and acted like Dean was mad at Cas for denting the Impala and they took Dean's voice away. It got so bad, Jensen actually told Berens tone it down. Purgatory especially annoyed me. Dean survived there for a whole year and suddenly he can't last a day?

It was nice to hear Cas talk Dean the way I saw him during the confession scene but it kind of came out of left field since Dean didn't seem like Cas's priority since Jack brainwashed him. A good example here is when Jack said Dean didn't matter. Cas couldn't even come up with a token protest. I like to think Cas finally broke free of Jack's spell.

So I guess I went to from like, to indifference to dislike. By the end of it I didn't want any scenes between Cas and Dean.

Not sure if this is what you were looking for.

[sukirichi]

reckless [02.]

With a lackadaisical playboy as your boss, being reckless wasn’t an option. But on the one time you let loose and made mistakes, your life is shattered, and now you’re playing house with your insufferable boss who is the father of your baby.

✘ cw. angst, toxic situations

✘ note. yes, feel free to scream at me in the asks. but like don’t worry, i promise there’s more to come and there’s more to happen! it’s going to get fluffier as we go hehehehe. ALSO, I can’t help but feel that Zayn’s “Let Me” speaks perfectly to CEO playboy Gojo. hmph.

one  ✘  two  ✘  three 

One glance at the tall man beside you, and you would’ve thought he would pass out soon.

Satoru had been endlessly fidgety hours before the appointment. Flicking from music stations to another, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel or sighing at the sight of you calmly watching the city go by in a flash – it was clear he was restless. Judging from the dark circles he tried to conceal under a pair of shades, he probably hadn’t slept much last night as well.

Now that you were both inside the clinical room, with you laying back down on the reclined bed, belly exposed and all for him to marvel at, his knee hadn’t stopped bouncing. “Satoru, calm down. It’s just a doctor’s appointment.”

“Sorry,” he apologized sheepishly, rubbing his sweaty palms on his pants. “I’m just…excited yet nervous, you know? It feels so real now.”

Real didn’t begin to cover it. Although you masked your nervous quite well, you felt your stomach tighten when a woman came in. Her smile was gentle and comforting enough, talking you both through the process and spilling little fun facts about pregnancy. She applied a cool gel over your belly before turning to a screen, where mixed dots and waves of black and white blurred in front of your visions. Your eyes widened in awe, throat dry from the inability to speak. The baby had always felt real, but seeing it with your own two eyes, a small figure barely even a comprehensible shape in the screen, you couldn’t help but tear up a little.

“That’s mine?” Satoru breathed out, absentmindedly looping his hands through yours. It made you stiffen for a quick second, but your attention was quickly pulled back to the sonogram. “We made that?”

Your heart clenched at his words.

He sounded so happy – like all his dreams came true and you’d just given him a gift that was beyond priceless. You supposed it really was; a baby was always a miracle and joy to have, but this child wasn’t made out of love. How could he have so much fondness for something he didn’t want in the first place?

“The baby is perfectly healthy. This pregnancy doesn’t seem like a high-risk one, but it’s too early to tell so we’ll keep checking in on you,” the doctor pushed her glasses back to her nose, the sound of her cool voice pulling you back from a dangerous path of self-doubt and wariness. “Do you guys want to know the gender?”

Glancing at Satoru, you shook your head. It was amusing that you didn’t need to share words before he got the meaning behind one look, and he squeezed your hand as if to say he understood.

“I’d like that to be more of a surprise. Thank you, doctor.”

“Congratulations on being a father, Sir,” she bowed, and it occurred to you just now she was probably a family doctor. Satoru did end up keeping his promise that your pregnancy be kept private for a while. This little detail made you turn to him with shock written all over your face, though his attention was centred in on the swirling monochrome colours on the screen. Whether the doctor noticed the brewing tension between you two or not, you were still gad when they bowed once more to excuse themselves. “I’ll leave you two to talk now.”

The moment she was gone, you sat up and pushed your blouse down. Satoru’s demeanour had changed as well. His smile was wiped from his face, replaced only by a slight downturn of his lips.

Sighing, you swung your legs over the bed, not minding one bit that he was inches away from resting his chin onto your thighs. “Is there something you’re not telling me? You’ve been so worried since we got here.”

Satoru winced.

“Am I that obvious?”

“Even if you aren’t, it’s not that hard to see through you,” you spoke gently, a spirit possessing you because there would’ve been no other logical reason on why you placed a palm over his. Satoru’s hands were warm and large as he cupped your knee, tracing little patterns over your jeans as he kept his gaze lowered to the floor. It was an odd sight to see; that the Gojo Satoru refused to look a woman in the eye. “Tell me. What’s wrong?”

Satoru’s sigh is painfully drawn out, though his chuckles took the brunt.

“I don’t know what to do – how to be a father, I mean. Don’t you ever get worried…that maybe we might fuck up and ruin someone’s life?”

“Hey,” you cupped his cheek, forcing him to look you in the eyes – which you really wished he didn’t, because you’d never seen such azure this up close before. It was no secret that his eyes alone stole the hearts of people, but you had to remind yourself he broke them as well, so that you pulled away right before he got too close for comfort. It wasn’t what he needed anyway. Satoru simply required reassurance, so you opted for an awkward pat on the shoulder. “Weren’t you the one telling me the other day we’ll work it out?”

“Yeah, but…”

“But what?”

“It’s nothing,” he shook his head, a smile lighting up his features once more. “Are you feeling good? There’s someplace I want to take you, as a celebration for our healthy baby.”

You pursed your lips. As much as you appreciated his enthusiasm, this ‘celebration’ didn’t sound like a good idea. You’ve made mistakes before and now you lived the consequence of it; being reckless was outdated. Caution, wariness, and space were the top three perfect recipes for the complete opposite of a disaster.

“I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“Why not?” he challenged, taking your hand in his as he guided you out the clinic. You made no comment on why he led you out the back where he’d parked his car, even going as far to bow for you as he opened your door. “Liven up a little, we got good news today! Plus, we didn’t both take a day for nothing. Come on, you’re going to have fun, I promise you!”

“And where would we go where people won’t recognize you?”

“Somewhere people are too lost in their own world to focus on others,” Satoru announced before sending you a side glance, smooth hands already on their way to rev the engine.

This wouldn’t go down well. Or at least that was what you wanted to believe, because his smile and excitement were too contagious that you couldn’t restrain the smile you wore.

“A carnival? Really? We’re too old for this.”

“We’re never too old for anything,” he insisted, placing his hands on your shoulders as he maneuvered from stall to stall. Everywhere around you, children and people of all ages milled by, laughter and screams that fading into the distance. One survey at the long, endless lines for the rides and crowded spaces, you grimaced, feeling an uncomfortable weight resting on your shoulders that was beyond Satoru’s hands. “Aw, come on, don’t be such a bore. Day offs like these are rare and think about the baby! Don’t you think they would’ve wanted us to get a long?”

“You’re just using the baby as an excuse to have fun.”

Of course he would – Gojo Satoru was like a man-child. Whether it was someone randomly bringing donuts or puppies into the office, he easily lit up like a firework, seemingly finding joy in every little thing. Being stuck in the office and forced to work his ass off under your supervision must’ve taken a toll on him too.

Add on the fact he hadn’t gone out on dates or parties ever since he found out he was going to be a dad, the desperation to go out and do something was written all over his face.

Satoru pouted. “That’s mean. Take that back.”

“No.”

“And I’m the childish one here?” he snickered. You merely rolled your eyes at him and gave in; too much time spent working and not enough time relaxing (not that being a carnival was your definition or relaxation, but alas, Satoru was dragging you around everywhere like always) wouldn’t be good for the baby.

“You see that bear over there? I’m going to win that for you. It could be my first ever present for our baby.”

There was no stopping him. You didn’t want to, either, because you just stood there, arms crossed against your chest as you let him do whatever he pleased. A literal man-child, a youthful soul stuck in an irritatingly attractive man’s body – these were the thoughts that ran through your head while Satoru kept swinging his arm back and forth. He chose a stall where you had to knock down stacks of cans down with one set of three balls, all because he wanted to win a bear. You would really rather go home than watch him fail four times now, but he wasn’t giving up, only flexing his shoulders before gesturing to the young man.

“Hey man, three more balls please.”

Nothing was funny about it at all. Watching your boss fail miserably even after ten tries shouldn’t have been so hilarious, yet sweat was dripping all over his face and his patience was hanging on a loose thread that you were giggling before you knew it.

His usual confident bravado began to tear down bit by bit, his face flushed from the sounds of your teasing.

“Satoru, stop,” you laughed, “We’ve been here for twenty minutes and your wallet might as well be empty! You can just go buy a bear at the mall.”

“You’re too functional. Where would be the meaning behind it if I just bought a random bear?” he huffed, pushing the sleeves of his denim jacket up to his elbows. Determined now more than ever, he even stretched his long arms side to the side with a shake of his hips. You could tell the young man manning the stall was hiding his amusement by whistling to himself, but Satoru really was such a ridiculous sight you couldn’t blame him. “No, I’m going to get that for you, then I’ll brag to my baby how cool their dad was when he knocked those cans down.”

“You mean, if you knock those cans down.”

His shoulders deflated. “Support me a little bit, will you?”

“Hmm, I don’t know, it might just inflate your ego and you’ll be too distracted by yourself to ever actually knock those cans down,” He threw a ball with a force so strong it hit the curtain above the cans, and it bounced back somewhere below the tables. It didn’t even touch the can by a smidge, and you snorted. “See what I mean?”

Expecting that Satoru would take insult to heart (as his ego was easily wounded, this much you knew when he refused to talk to anyone at the office for a whole day because one of his directors forgot his name) you smirked at him, but that smirk immediately dropped when he grinned back at you. He was no longer wimpy like before, an aura of confidence brimming from him. “That’s like the second time you’ve told me I was distracting,” he mused, leaving you baffled because he was right. “On the contrary, I think you’rea lot more distracting, so I take that back. Just stand there and watch me win.”

“Okay,” you drawled out in faux disinterest, thankful for the corny carnival music and chatter from the crowd that he couldn’t hear your poor beating heart.

You were too focused on pretending to be unbothered by him that you failed to see how the cans were knocked down. The counter guy was already picking them up as Satoru pumped his fists in the air, way too much like a child high on sugar.

Was this really the father of your baby?

“I won! I fucking won! That huge brown bear, please!”Satoru’s smile from holding the bear that was half his size couldn’t even compare to the city lights and sparklers. Even his eyes were lit up in joy as he skipped back to you, happily waving the doe-eyed bear in front of you. At your lack of reaction, he sighed before jutting his cheek out to you. “No congratulations kiss?”

“How about a slap?”

“Kinky,” he teased, sending your brain to overheat when he tapped his chin in thought. “Well, you did make my back bleed so I kind of got the idea you’re sort of extreme in bed – ow! Would you please stop hitting me? I just won you a wonderful prize and your first reaction is to hit me! This arm is exhausted from swinging endlessly, you know.”

“Maybe if you aimed better, you wouldn’t have had to exhaust yourself. Like I said, you could’ve just bought a bear,” you scolded, raising your arm threateningly when he opened his mouth again. Idiot. “Give me that.”

Satoru effortlessly swung the bear until it was under your chins, his white lashes ethereal as he peeked at you through them. He was close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath dusting on your cheeks, that same warmth that had been mixing with yours in a sloppy, heated kiss just weeks ago. “And who said I was letting you carry this?” he taunted, thoroughly enjoying how for once, you weren’t hitting him.“I’m supposed to wave this around proudly then place it in our baby’s room when we get home. Besides, your hand looks heavy already.”

“My hands? Wait, what do you mean our baby’s room?”

At your words and questioning gaze, Satoru did a quick turn, trying to use the bear as a shield.

“Yeah, I forgot to tell you,” he scratched the back of his head awkwardly, “I may or may not have had my parents’ guest room renovated as a baby room, although if you ask me, I think moving somewhere else would be much better. Raising a child in a penthouse doesn’t seem like such a great idea if you ask me,” opening your mouth to scold him, Satoru stopped you by placing a finger on your lips, noses grazing against each other. “Don’t scold me right now; I know that look on your face and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, okay? We can still decorate it ourselves. I just had the beds removed and the space cleaned out. Now stop over thinking and let me help you with your problem.”

You pushed his face away for the sake of your heart. In fact, you should be paid for your acting skills for looking so unaffected.

“What problem?”

“Your hands look heavy,” he beamed, long fingers looping through yours as he swayed them side to side. “So let me carry it for you.”

“Satoru, I—”

“Don’t get me wrong,” he blinked innocently while surrendering his free hand, “I’m not doing this for you, it’s for the baby. Did you know oxytocin is released and makes you feel good and reduces pain, maybe even stress? We can pump your oxytocin levels through touch. It also lowers your blood pressure, and we want you at your happiest and healthiest for this pregnancy, right?”

“Since when were you an expert on this?”

“Since I found out I’m becoming a dad,” his words struck you speechless, mouth pressed into a flat line as you stared him openly. You hadn’t mean to come off as rude in that moment; you were just trying to gauge the sincerity behind his words, to explore the depth in his eyes, but Satoru must’ve took it wrong as he cleared his throat, “I can let go if you really want me to.”

“N-no! It’s fine…can we move? We’ve been standing here for ten minutes now,” Embarrassed, you pointed to the closest thing in your sight – a photo booth. “How about there? That looks fun.”

Satoru followed where your arm was pointed, laughing when a couple exited the red curtains while giggling amongst themselves. The guy even leaned down to steal a long kiss from his lover, and if you were embarrassed before, you wanted to crawl into a hole and never come back again right now. “You know, if you wanted me to be stuck in a cramped space next to you, you could’ve just said so. I didn’t bring the limo with me, but the Audi could be pretty small for us, I guess…”

You hissed at him in warning, “God, you never shut up do you?”

“It made you smile.”

“I wasn’t smiling!”

“Sure, mommy, whatever you say,” bumping his hip with yours, Satoru led you inside the cube. There were a plethora of filters to choose from; ranging from heart frames and ones that placed shades on your face. Not really thinking of what to pick, you reached out to press the frog hats one, but Satoru was swatting your hands away for the effect with heart emojis everywhere. “This is cute. We can show this to our baby once they’re born.”

“They won’t really know what a Polaroid is, Satoru.”

“It’s still sentimental!” he grumbled before clicking the camera icon, a huge smile already on his face until he saw you squished on the other side of the booth. Only one side of your ear could be seen, and Satoru furrowed his brows at you. “Come closer, you’ll be cropped from the frame.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Jesus, Y/N, don’t act shy now, I already fucked a baby into you,” mouth falling open at the vulgarity of his words, Satoru took the chance to drag you beside him. “Relax, you’re always so stiff. Our baby might come out frowning if you keep huffing like that.”

“You’re too close for comfort.”

“My apologies, I’ll try not to be included in the photo when you’re the one who suggested this in the first place,” he muttered playfully, booping your nose before he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. He was close, too close, that his musky perfume filled the close space. You wanted to lean closer to his warmth and sturdiness of his broad shoulders; his mere presence bringing about a sense of tranquillity despite your words. You told yourself it shouldn’t be too bad to lean into him for just a little while, absentmindedly following him as he cheers, “Smile!”

One photo turned into two, and Satoru ended up inserting a few more bills into the slot to take more. He tried out as many filters as he wanted, acting as if you two had been long time friends from how easy it was for him to be around you like that.

You supposed it came from his heavy experience with women. You were so unlike; while he was open to touch and didn’t care too much about space, you craved it deliriously.

It was obvious none of this meant anything to Satoru. You were probably just another woman in his life, with the exception that you had a kid, but you couldn’t mean something more. If anything, he treated you more like an old friend than a lover. He’d said it himself before that you weren’t his type and you didn’t mind, so why did it hurt the longer you mulled about it? Sure, you may not be as attractive or luxurious as his previous lovers, but did you really not even have charismatic pull? Is it because you weren’t his type that he was so casual with you, while you on the other hand, felt like you would lose your mind at every little thing he did?

You watched as Satoru pulled out his wallet and kept the Polaroid of you both grinning at the camera, forming a silly heart shape with your hands per his request. It was silly and platonic – yet the gesture confused you to no end.

“Why’d you do that?”

Satoru’s hand paused. “Am I not allowed to…?”

“We’re not lovers. You can’t just put a photo of us in your wallet.”

As if to prove a point, Satoru pulled out more photos of his wallet and showed it to you. There were several more wallet-sized photos, mostly of his white cat with black shades, another of him and his best friend, Shoko, and the last photo was of him skiing. They were all placed in his wallet along with a small, faded out photograph of what seemed to be his parents from the younger days. You couldn’t understand why he was showing you this, much less how patient he was as he smiled softly at you. “It’s memorabilia. I keep photos of everyone I care about everywhere with me,” he said, pocketing his wallet back before gazing up at the night sky. “I like to think we’re friends, at least. We’re definitely not just boss and employee anymore.”

Then what are we?

There were so many things you wanted to ask. You always knew he was always this overly friendly and nice, but what did make you? What did a friend mean to him? Other than Shoko, who was his lesbian friend who was also the company’s resident doctor, you’d never seen him be platonic with another female before.

The realization made your mood drop.

Maybe you were right. He probably didn’t even see you as a woman, but what did it matter? You didn’t like him. You shouldn’tlike him. Even if he had no intentions of wooing you, Gojo Satoru was far too appealing for his own good. Being around him was dangerous for your heart.

“Wanna ride the ferris wheel? The night city always looks beautiful.”

He was just your boss...and you were just a friend. Things were going to be alright as long as no feelings were involved. You survived seven years of working with him with not a single moment where your heart fluttered when he spoke your name; a baby made between you shouldn’t change anything now. At the end of the day, you were both only doing this out of responsibility. Satoru was trying his best to become a supportive co-parent to you, and that was all it ever would be. Strictly business – purely professional – as it always had been and always will be.

Foolish girl, you could hear a voice whisper at the back of your head, don’t get too lost in his eyes.

“Y/N, are you tired? Do you want to go home now? We can just order dinner to be delivered if you’re exhausted,” Satoru tugged at your sleeve to get your attention, and you chuckled awkwardly, not meaning to have spaced out the whole time. Worry was written all over his face from the way his brows dipped, stunning blue eyes darkening like the night sky you both made memories under.

Don’t look at me like that...

“Are you okay? Do you wanna go home?”

“Yeah,” you chirped far too brightly than you would’ve liked. Right now, it was more of a mission of fake it til you make it. You would just have to keep exerting the same amount of effort into making this work for the baby’s sake. And if that meant pushing aside any budding desire for this to last any longer to focus on your ‘friendship’, then you would do it. Taking Satoru’s hand for the first time since the baby ordeal, you flashed him a genuine smile. “The ferris wheel sounds nice. Let’s do some sightseeing before the night ends.”

Neither of you speak inside the cab. Beautiful the night was as the city shone into awakening illumination beneath you, comforting you with the thought that in the grand scheme of it all, you were small. Insignificant. That somehow everything you worried about wouldn’t matter when there was a much bigger world out there, and you were but a fickle dot in the middle of its entirety. But that was you, and Gojo lived in a much different world than you did. For somewhere in the city, you could recognize several of the sky towers, buildings, and establishments owned by his family. He mattered in the grand scheme; you were a small factor in his world.

Glancing back at the man who’d been silent the whole ride, you smiled upon seeing that he was doing the same. Satoru was practically bouncing in his seat as he snapped several photos of the city, mumbling something about he’d never seen this view before.

He was so innocent yet so out there, igniting within you an urge to take care of him and wanting to be taken care of by him.

You’d already accepted that you may just never have him that way. That small, fleeting crush was like a butterfly – pretty look at, but damn near impossible to catch. You’d already stopped crying yourself to sleep over the new changes brought about in your body, that in a few months’ time, you’d look back into everything and see that everything had changed. The mistakes you made that night were still something you regretted because you wished you could’ve done better, but seeing him right in front of you now, there was only gratefulness blooming within. Grateful that he was right by your side, grateful that at least the father of your child was more than capable of giving them a comfortable life, grateful that he didn’t push you away like you expected.

Acting more on impulse than logic, you leaned over to press your lips on his cheek.“Thank you,” you mumbled, eyes closed as you let your lips stay there for a few more seconds.

His skin was warm underneath your touch, and when you opened your eyes, Satoru was gazing up at you with stars twinkling in the vast galaxy he called his eyes. You smiled at his reaction, watching as he reached a palm out to caress that spot your lips had landed.“For what?”

“For everything,” you crumbled,“You’re not a bad person, Satoru, I know that,” with shuddered breaths, tears sprung at the back of your eyes again. “I’m sorry for being so difficult. I just need time to adjust to…well, all of this.” Your voice cracked at the last sentence and you were crying before you knew it, face hidden behind your palms in fear he’d look at you differently. In his eyes, you were always his stoic secretary who didn’t even bat an eye when people gave you backlash after Satoru hired you despite the lack of a college degree.

This all felt new – to cry, to trust, to rely on someone – and there was a flurry of emotions you couldn’t quite place yet.

Scooping you into his arms, Satoru patted your back as your cries grew louder. “Take all the time you need. We don’t have to rush into anything at all.”

In the harsh world of conglomerates where the laws of business blurred thinner and thinner with each day, it was hard to believe that not rushing into anything would be possible. It was always a flurry of hurried phone calls, frantic preparations for emergency meetings, anxiety over presenting new proposals and hoping that your superiors would sign your documents so you could go about your way. Time was as imperative as money was to them, but Satoru had proved he could be beyond that.

From the moment you met him, he never treated time as if it was something that slipped through his fingertips. He enjoyed every second he had of his life, and perhaps that was why you hated him so much in the first place.

You thought he took everything for granted, when in reality, all he did was bask in the little things life offered.

This much, at least, you trusted him with. If he said there would be no need to rush and you could both take it slow, he meant it. Around him, time felt more like a secret whisper than a treasure you both had to seize to protect. The night drifted off until it was already midnight and the crew was ushering all visitors out. You and Satoru made it home safely and quietly, hands linked together as if it was the most natural thing ever. No rush, you kept telling yourself, and you plopped down on the couch heavily as you let your muscles relax from such a long, eventful day.

You stayed there for a solid minute or so when you felt warm hands take your heels off. Opening your eyes, Satoru kneeled before you, his fingers expertly rubbing and pushing against the sore muscles of your feet. “Wh-what are you doing?”

“Your feet must be tired from all that walking,” he mumbled, looking up briefly to meet your eyes and tease your shoulder back. “Lean back for me. I’ll take care of you.”

Judging by the sentiment behind his smile, you figured it wouldn’t be harmful to enjoy this at least once. You’ve never gotten foot massages before but his hands kneading yours felt heavenly. You knew from experience beforehand that Satoru was quite godly when it came to the skills and magic his fingers brought, though this one was on a different level, and you were sinking deeper into the couch from the bliss. He was right; you were tired, and if having your boss massage you like this every night after dragging you wherever he pleased, then you wouldn’t complain.

The ringing of your phone made you sit up abruptly, surprising Satoru whose head you almost knocked into. “Sorry,” you croaked out sheepishly, “It’s my dad. I need to take this.”

“Do you need me to leave you alone?”

“Uh, no, you’re fine.”

Satoru gestured to your foot as you took the call, mouthing, “Should I continue?”

“Yes, please,” you answered back, palm pressed over the mic before you answered. “Hey, Dad!” Your father greeted you back with much enthusiasm, his energy heard even by Satoru who sent you small smiles and curious glances every now and then. A part of you wanted to ask if he was fine kneeling on the floor like that, but his knees were on the fur carpet anyway that it shouldn’t hurt him. He extended your leg and trailed up your calves, pulling a soft moan from you when he kneaded the flesh and rid it of its knots. His ministrations distracted you until you were nodding absentmindedly to your Dad every now and then, not really paying attention to what he was saying.

Then the call ended, and his last words kept ringing back into your head ominously. Satoru took quick notice of this as he tapped your knee, bringing your attention back to him. “Is something wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I...” you started, helplessly fumbling around Satoru. “My dad is in Tokyo. He said he wants to have dinner with me.”

“You don’t look particularly happy about that. Do you not want to meet your father?”

“I do but...”

“But?”

“I have to tell him about this,” you shivered, refracting your legs back to the couch until his touch disappeared from your skin. For a moment, you had the urge to crawl back to his heat, but you were restless, agitated. “About us. He’s going to want to meet you and I don’t want to hide the pregnancy from him either,” Satoru remained unmoving as you rambled, and you hid your face behind your arms again as you remembered the rules you asked him to follow. “Listen, I’m sorry if I sound unfair right now, I know I said I didn’t want anyone else knowing—”

Warm lips brushed over your knuckles, large hands peeling your wrists to reveal your face. “Hey, it’s fine. He’s family and you can tell him. It’s not like your Dad would ruin your image or something like you expected to happen.”

“He won’t but...” you frowned, “My dad isn’t going to like this. I can’t guarantee he’ll be civil the whole time, especially towards you.”

“You told him about me?”

“A few years ago, yeah, when I still couldn’t tolerate you.”

“So you can tolerate me now?”

“Only a little bit,” you corrected, pushing his hands away as you opened your phone to check your schedule. It was mostly Satoru’s schedule, truth be told, but you were free for the most part tomorrow. Satoru could just longue back in his office while you clocked out early to meet your dad. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. On second thought, he doesn’t have to know at all. I’m only a few weeks in and it’s not like he’ll notice—”

“Y/N,” Satoru interrupted you, rudely snatching his phone from your shaking fingers. You would’ve scolded him had he not sounded so worried. “I did promise I would take responsibility for you, right? I want to meet your dad and introduce myself properly. As a father-to-be, I think I can somewhat understand that he might react strongly to this, but I also need to reassure him you’re in safe hands,” taking your hand in his, Satoru leaned into your palm, the smile he wore way too charming than what your heart could handle. “As long as you’re okay with it, I would like to meet him.”

“I’m sorry if he does something stupid.”

“Don’t be,” he reassured with a chuckle. “I’m sure everything will go well.”

It didn’t go well. Your father wasn’t throwing a fit or causing a scene like you originally feared, but the current situation wasn’t any better either. He looked like he was on the verge of tearing Satoru’s head apart, his grip on the bread knife so tight his knuckles flashed white. Your father was the literal definition of unpredictable and out of nervousness, you held Satoru’s hand under the table for comfort.

In complete opposition of yours, Satoru handled it with class and composure. His head was ducked down in respect, making sure to be curt and precise in counters to your father’s harsh accusations.

“I’m really sorry for everything, Sir.”

“Did you ruin my daughter’s life?”

Satoru finally tilted his head back up to look your father in the eye, both your hands turning cold and sweaty in between the seats. “Pardon?”

“I asked if you ruined my daughter’s life by getting her pregnant.”

“I would never intend for that to happen, Sir,” Satoru straightened up. From your perspective, he looked every bit the man parents would want their children to be with – handsome, elegant, educated, polite, respectful and well-off – but your father was no ordinary parent. He sized Satoru up like a predator hunting his prey even as the latter acted cool about it. “Granted, it was an accident and neither of us are prepared for this, but I promise I’ll take care of her. I take responsibility as the father and you have nothing to worry about.”

Your dad slammed his palms down on the table, the loud smack catching the attention of nearby tables. “How dare you tell me I have nothing to worry about?”

“Dad, please don’t do this.”

“No, he needs to know,” he snapped. Unable to help it, you groaned inwardly and scooted closer to Satoru, knowing where this was leading. “I lost her mother right after she was born; raised her by myself when I was barely out from high school. Rich men like you may never understand the struggles of taking care of a baby all by yourself, but I did everything I could to make sure she grew up well. My daughter had a happy, comfortable life. When she told me she wanted to follow her dreams in Tokyo, I supported her, and then you go take everything away from her because you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself? You dare defile her like that?”

“Dad!” you roared, clutching Satoru’s hand who’d gone limp. “It was equally my responsibility as it is his! I wanted this; we both got carried away but we’re doing our best, so please stop being difficult to us.”

“You wanted this?” he laughed dryly, “A child with this man you kept moaning to me about; the same man who went to clubs every night while he left you all by yourself to work, to clean up his mess from him? You wanted him?”

“Dad,” you gritted your teeth, nails sinking down onto your thigh. Satoru remained silent between you both, although you could feel his burning gaze penetrating through the back of your skull. “It’s both our mistake. But this child...we don’t see it as that. We like to view it as a blessing. It may be true we harbour no affection for one another, but we want to be good parents. That’s all you need to know and I find no reason to explain myself to you. If you have nothing else to say, you can go back home. I’ll pay for your ride,” slamming down a few bills his way, you glared at your father, who shrunk back at the anger radiating off of you. “You’re not welcome here, Dad. Just go back home.”

“I’m just worried for you.”

“You don’t have to. I’m not a little kid anymore.”

“I never said you were,” he sighed, rubbing the sides of his temples. “But he just took all your opportunities away from you! What about your dreams? What about your plan of having your own career once you have enough experience? What about—”

“Are you implying that because I’m pregnant, suddenly I’m not qualified to fulfil my goals?”

“Sir,” Satoru cut you off, releasing your hands as he leaned forwards on the table, becoming more and more like the CEO he was trained to be – all authority and gentle command that won the hearts of multiple investors. “I assure you that I won’t be holding your daughter back from the things she wants to achieve. As her co-parent, I’m perfectly capable of supporting her in the dreams she wishes to achieve. I’ve worked with her for years; I know she can reach for the stars if she wanted.”

Your mind blanked.

“Young man, don’t talk to me as if you know my daughter better than I do,” your father scorned, “I’m not questioning your capability to support her, but what about your credibility? How can you assure me you’ll really be there for her? How can you assure me you won’t leave my daughter stranded in the middle of nowhere? How can you assure me you can protect her from the harsh criticism of society? Money can’t provide nor does it solve anything,” your father copied his gesture by leaning forward, but it was to poke Satoru’s chest. “From what I’ve heard about you, I suppose you understand perfectly well why I don’t trust you.”

“Sir, I do plan on marrying your daughter and to give her the life she deserves,” Satoru confessed, effectively stealing from you the ability to speak as he glimpsed your way. “If she lets me.”

“You’ll marry her? Be faithful to her as your wife and have a family? Are you sure you can do that?”

“Yes, Sir, I’m highly confident I can. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Then that’s all I need to know,” your father leaned back in your seat, arms crossed against his chest and a stern expression on his face. “And if I find out you hurt or make my daughter cry in any way, I’ll beat up that pretty face of yours. I have two more sons that’re willing to do the same, if you don’t watch your actions.”

Satoru beamed at your father’s ‘approval.’ “I’ll face any consequence if I fall short on my duties, Sir, but I assure you, it will never have come to that.”

“So we’ve come to an agreement?”

The two men linked and shook hands across the table, completely disregarding the fact you were right beside him. You were beyond appalled, but mostly hurt that you’d been reduced to this way. And they were unaware of it, too, sickening and satisfied yet tense smiles were masked on their faces as they decided your future.

You stood up and left the restaurant.

You kept walking as fast as you could in the cold night, hands shoved into the coat of your pockets. Thousands of pin needles pricked at your heart and your skin the more you replayed the memory in your head. How stupid were you to think that Satoru would be different? And marriage? Was he serious? It all made you sick to the core to the point you wanted to throw up and disappear, until a heavy set of footsteps echoed behind you and tugged your wrist.

“Y/N, wait!” Satoru panted, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. “What’s wrong with you? You just up and left—”

“Seriously, Satoru, you’re asking me that?” your face fell flat at his cluelessness, “What’s wrong with you? You men are sickening; planning my entire future like that right in front of me as if I don’t have a say in what I want. None of you asked if I’m okay with this. You really went ahead deciding we’ll get married when I told you already, I don’t want to marry you and I never will!”

Satoru brushed a hand over his hair, a hand on his hip. You could tell his patience was being tested – after being verbally harassed by your father and now with you pushing back in the same heat, it was only a matter of time before he lost his cool. Surprisingly enough, however, his voice remained levelled as he sighed. “What did you expect me to do back there? Tell your father that we’re just going to be roommates and raise a child together as if we’re not already family?” he defended, words slow and pronounced with a hint of hurt behind them. “I respect you and I truly do want to be with you, that’s why I wanted us to get married.”

“You respect me?” you laughed incredulously, “Are you hearing yourself right now? No person respects another by deciding what happens to my life without my consent!”

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask, okay? I apologize for it and I acknowledge my mistake that I didn’t give you much of a choice. Me being cornered and pressured isn’t a good excuse, but I wasn’t lying when I said I want to take care of you and—”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“Why do you want to be with me?” you demanded, “Why do you want to take care of me so badly? How did you even take this so well? You weren’t even that angry when I told you I was pregnant.”

Satoru paled. “Was I supposed to be? Should I have pushed you away and kicked you out my life? Is that what you wanted me to do, or is that what you expected from me, considering you’ve made it extremely clear I’m nothing but your airheaded boss and a man who always wants his dick wet, right?” the sting of his words pricked you both – you with your guilt, and him with his pride crushed. But he didn’t let on, didn’t waver and didn’t match your anger as his chest shook with impatience. “I’m trying to be good to you; I want to be good for you and the baby because despite what you think of me, I’m not the devil the tabloids make me out to be. I sleep around, yeah, but I wouldn’t go so far to turn someone away especially when I know I’m supposed to be there.”

“Satoru, if you’re only doing this out of obligation, you can be a good father without marrying me. Marriage is not a requirement; I don’t care what people say that I got pregnant without getting married. That’s the least of my concern, I just want the baby to grow up healthy but I don’t want to be involved with you.”

With how stunned Satoru looked, one would’ve thought you slapped him right in the face. That mere sight of seeing your boss tear his walls down in front of you almost made you feel bad, but you had to be strong.

You had to be firm with what you stood for.

“I really don’t want to be with you, Satoru. I’m so sorry.”

“What do you want me to do?” his voice cracked, begging and pleading as he stood before you, looking every bit of a man lost in uncharted territory. “I don’t know what you want me to do, Y/N. One moment, you’re telling me you want me to be a good father, and then the next you’re pushing me away. People are so sure that I’m a man who can never settle down because they believe I have commitment issues, but I’m telling you I can commit to you right now,” he held your hand, rubbing some of his warmth at your comparably cold ones. You didn’t fail to notice that he was trembling, but what about what you couldn’t decipher. “Are you really sure I’m the one here who isn’t capable of that? What are you so scared of that you can’t trust me?”

“Because you’re you! Because you’re a fucking asshole who’s been treating me like I’m an overworking machine and always expects me to undo your shit for you! Because you make me sick and I don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t know what love means!” Exploded. You exploded. “I regret everything that happened between us that night. No, in fact, I regret ever meeting you at all.”

Satoru took a step back.

All the light and joy that fit so perfectly with him had now disappeared.

“I’m sorry,” he demurred, “I’m sorry that I’d been so repulsive that you’ve felt miserable for all this time. I’m sorry I haven’t been a decent boss and I’m sorry I’m not good enough for you.”

“Gojo, stop. Stop doing that; stop apologizing!”

“Then tell me what you want me to do,” he barked desperately. “Because I can’t read your mind and I just want to be good for you.”

“What if I don’t want you to? I don’t want you to be good to me, I don’t want you to care about me. Be there for the baby, but don’t involve yourself too much in my personal life. Stop asking me to marry you because you and I would never work out. We’re impossible, okay?”

“How do you know we’ll never work out when we haven’t even tried?” he pushed, “You never even gave me a chance.”

“You’re not worth that chance.”

If someone could receive an award for effortlessly trampling over someone repeatedly, you would’ve been crowned winner a long time ago. You had no idea what came over you as you spat all those hurtful words to Satoru, but did your words bear no truth? The fact that he no longer defended himself meant he also knew that he wasn’t worth it – that he wasn’t someone to be trusted. It wasn’t that you were completely unfair too; of course you considered it. Weeks of living under the same roof as him and you most definitely considered it. Say you did get married and became a real family – what then? It wasn’t a marriage out of love, but rather out of responsibility and obligation.

As much as you loved your child, you couldn’t imagine throwing away your future and living miserable for the rest of your life like that.

A life built on lies wasn’t a life worth living.

“I would never hurt you.”

Your heart cracked. After everything you said, after all your efforts to keep him away from your own safety, after all the hurtful things you’ve done to him, and he was still apologizing? Why did he have to make it so hard to let go? You were tired, so tired that you could no longer refrain your lip from quivering as tears caked your face.

“Gojo, please, don’t—”

“So if me stepping away from your life is what would really make you happy, then I’ll respect it. But there’s one thing I have to ask,” Satoru swiped a thumb under your eye to catch the tear. His smile was forlorn, his touch cold and words melancholic. “Do you want the baby? Do you...want to keep the baby and be a mother? You don’t have to do anything for me, I just want to know if the mother of my child even wants to be one. And please be honest, because everything you say right now are words that I’ll mark seriously.”

The word left your mouth before you could stop it.

“No.”

“No what?”

“I don’t want to be a mother,” you admitted, hands trailing over your belly. It felt like you were betraying your own child, but you hadn’t planned this. “I’m too young, Satoru, I-I’m not ready for this. With you there beside me or not, I really don’t want this.”

“Then,” he cleared his throat, turning his head to the side to catch a moment. You swore you saw his eyes shine under the city lights with tears, but it was gone so soon that you might’ve just fooled yourself with it. Once he deemed himself ready to talk, Satoru took a deep breath. “Do I have your consent that once the baby is born...it’ll be under my care? Would you prefer to reach your own dreams, then? You’ll never have to be a part of the Gojo family if it’s really not what you want, even though I could support you as much as you need me to.”

Your eyes widened at his proposition. “You’ll take care of our baby?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Can I...can I visit them, at least, once in a while?” It was more than just your heart that broke that night. There was no telling whether you’d hurt yourself in the long run with this decision. It was no easy choice to make – to actively pursue your dreams somewhere else more than being a mother. You wanted to do your best, of course you did, but it wasn’t that easy. Gojo didn’t have to tell you for you to understand that once you married him, you’d be expected to run the business with him and be involved in his family and their dramas. Now that wasn’t a life you wanted.

“You’re free to visit them whenever,” he promised, voice fading even lower into the background. “So is this it? We’ll just be living under the same roof until the baby is born and once they’re here...”

“We’ll part ways.”

“We’ll part ways,” he nodded in agreement, sniffling for a brief second before fixing his tie. The Gojo Satoru you got to know for a few weeks had now disappeared. Not even the goofy boss you spent seven years with could be found in the coldness of his eyes, almost as if he’d put up such impenetrable walls around him and nothing could pass through. The sudden shift in aura made your heart clench as he offered his hand to shake. “Okay. Let’s stay professional until then?”

“Yeah, Sir, I can do that,” your hands shook as you enclosed it around his, but now all the warmth had disappeared – from his eyes, his touch, his soul. It hurt, but this was necessary. It was what felt right. “Thank you – for everything.”

“You’re welcome. Anything for you and the baby,” Satoru proclaimed, perplexing you both when he suddenly pulled you in his arms. Just like that, the dam broke, and you were staining his precious suit before you could stop it. His arms rubbed up and down your back the longer he held you there, almost like a final moment to lean on one another before you had to say goodbye eventually. Beneath your palm, his heart beat exuberantly loud, so much so that you might’ve heard the prayers it whispered. “Stop crying now. The baby might feel sad too. We’ll both be alright – we just have to get through this.”

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