#bittersweet death

[thorn-91]

story time?

Word count: 327

hi, I'm new on Tumblr and wanted to try to get into some writing. I'm currently thinking about doing a story/fanfic about my demon slayer oc, but I want to know what you guys would be looking for in a story. I am new to writing so I might not be the best, but I would love feedback and help on my writing

my ogrinal plan is to write a whole story about my oc, including: their breathing forms, description of each form,backstop, etc. However I'm a bit unsure how I want the plot line to go. I know I for sure want to do my oc's backstory but everything after that is a litte a little blurry. So I'm thinking of a few different plot options but I'm waiting to see what you guys think would be most interesting.

Option 1: backstory, I could literally intsert my character from the beginning of the demon slayer show and go on from there following the group, but changing it up here and there

Option 2: backstory, I could have my character go on some adventures that aren't part of the main demon slayer plot line and have them meet up with everyone in the swordsmith village arc. (Or a different arc if people want)

Option 3: backstory, I don't follow any of the main plot line from the show and go on my own path. But still use terminology from the show and all that.

Option 4: I'd like to see some of your ideas

Option 5: backstory, I can have my character meet up with some of the main characters from the anime time to time, but make sure to create my own adventures to keep it balanced

Personally I can be really indecisive and have a hard time knowing what people would like to read, so any comments to help me get on track would be really appreciated. Please share your thoughts and ideas.

[bigbluefishi]

i’m glad to be with you samwise gamgee, here at the end of all things

[calmao666]

We meet at the appointed place

[batsyart]

so i read the newest update of @somerandomdudelmao‘s incredible apocalyptic series and i’ve been crying ever since-

[aventurineswife]

aventurine x reader, but they both worked in the IPC together, until Reader faked their death to escape it. Aventurine kinda loses himself for a bit, but is sent on another planetary mission (idk what ipc assignments are called 😔) he notices one of the citizens looks a bit too much like a previous friend

Reader realizes Aventurine found them, and feeling too scared to face him after never saying goodbye, warning or anything, they run off to a secluded area aven follows them to, and boom we get angsty argument, bittersweet love confession, and happy or sad ending up to u!!

i hope this made sense

The Gamble of Lost Hearts | Part 1

Summary: After faking your death to escape the IPC and live a quiet life, You encounters Aventurine years later on a remote planet. Desperate to avoid facing him after leaving without a word, You run, but Aventurine tracks you down to demand answers.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, angst, reunion, faked death, confrontation, bittersweet, passionate kiss, unresolved feelings, hurt/comfort, happy ending.

Warnings: Intense emotions, mention of grief and faked death, brief argument, bittersweet themes, kissing.

A/N: Thank for the request, Anon! Of course it made sense and I hope you like it!! I decided to go for a happy ending but lmk if you want a sad ending too 😇🤭

(Part 2)

The tall silhouette of the IPC headquarters still felt like a ghostly shadow looming over you, even on this remote planet. You'd spent years running from it, from him, leaving behind everything you knew to escape the endless cycles of high-stakes deals and veiled dangers. Faking your death was your only way out. A drastic choice, but one that had kept you free.

For the most part, it had worked. You’d blended into a quiet, new life here, far from the frenetic energy and luxurious intrigue of IPC. But today was different. A mission had arrived from IPC. You hadn’t realized who would be leading it—hadn’t dared to imagine he would come to this far-flung place.

And yet, here you were, ducking down behind market stalls, holding your breath every time he brushed past. His sandy-blond hair, elegant stance, and that gambler’s grin that still haunted your memories—it was all here. And with him came a flood of feelings you'd kept buried for years.

Somewhere along the winding paths of this new city, you’d slipped. He'd caught sight of you, and that glimmer in his eyes told you he knew.

You didn’t waste time running. You veered down alleyways, taking shortcuts and dodging through side streets, ignoring the heart pounding in your chest. The cliffside path outside the city led to a hidden grove where you’d often retreat to watch the waves crash far below. Maybe there, he would lose your trail.

But there was no outrunning someone like him.

“Quite the bold tactic—faking your own death,” His smooth voice sounded just as you remembered, laced with that same easy charm but edged with something new—something raw. “Did you think I wouldn’t find you?”

You took a breath before facing him, his piercing gaze pinning you down as soon as you met his eyes. He stood mere steps away, looking as striking as ever, the faint roulette motif on his overcoat catching the last of the setting sun.

“Aventurine, I…” The words failed you. How could you explain years of silence? Of leaving him to mourn?

“I grieved you, you know.” His voice was soft, nearly breaking. “I searched, hoping it was all some misstep. Until the day I accepted you were…gone.”

The ache in his words stung worse than you’d anticipated. “I didn’t have a choice...” you whispered, but your words sounded feeble, empty even to yourself.

“No choice?” Aventurine scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping him. “We were supposed to be partners, weren’t we? You could have trusted me.” He took a step forward, anger blazing in his eyes. “But instead, you turned me into a fool. For years, I mourned a ghost while you built this quiet little life on the fringes.”

“You don’t understand,” you argued, feeling that familiar pang in your chest. “It wasn’t just about leaving IPC. I couldn’t… If I stayed, I would’ve lost myself. That place…it consumed everything.”

“And you think I don’t know that?” Aventurine’s voice softened, his hand reaching up to brush a strand of hair from your face, a tender gesture that held the weight of all the things left unsaid between you. “Do you think I didn’t want to leave with you?”

You swallowed hard, caught off guard by his words. The idea of Aventurine—the gambler, the thrill-seeker—longing to escape had never crossed your mind. But here he was, his eyes reflecting a deep sadness that mirrored your own.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, the sincerity in your voice mixing with the regret that had gnawed at you all these years. “But I couldn’t drag you down with me.”

“You didn’t give me the choice.” he whispered, voice barely above a murmur. His eyes searched yours, desperate to find a reason, a justification that could somehow absolve the pain he’d carried all this time. And then, with a hint of frustration, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a fierce, desperate kiss. It wasn’t gentle—it was raw, full of the emotions he’d held back, the years he’d spent believing you were lost.

The kiss stole the words from your mouth, every excuse, every apology dissolving in the intensity of that single, electric moment.

When he pulled back, his hand still lingered at the side of your face, thumb tracing the faint line of your jaw as he gazed at you with a newfound resolve. “If you run again, I’m coming with you.” he murmured, his voice steadier now.

You met his gaze, realizing he meant it. There would be no more running, no more hiding. Aventurine wouldn’t let you.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you promised softly, the weight of your words sinking between you both. “Not without you.”

A flicker of a smile returned to his lips, tempered by the hurt that had yet to fully heal but brightened by the glimmer of hope that you could finally face whatever came next—together.

[twentytwoarts]

the sky with stars so bright

[mermaidstede]

c'est lui pour moi, moi pour lui dans la vie...

[nemkero]

where we go, after the war

[uravitsy]

‘YOUNG AND BEAUTIFUL’ SATORU GOJO

ACT ONE.

summary. gojo visits your grave once a year, reflecting on the limited time he had with you while going through the stages of grief. ☆

warnings. angst, sad!gojo, fem!reader! gojo x you, grief, established relationship, some smut if you squint, bittersweet ending

a/n. this is a short story i wrote over the summer, i wanted to dabble into the idea of gojo not being able to fully process his grief without the help of his students. it is a bit sad though.

ACT TWO : ̗̀➛ ACT THREE : ̗̀➛ FINALE

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪

"Does Gojo-sensei seem…different today?" Itadori asked absentmindedly, leaning back in his chair while balancing a pencil on his nose. He was doing everything else but the work he was supposed to finish before class ended. His two close friends, Megumi and Nobara, spared him a quick glance, as if debating whether to answer his ridiculous question.

"When is that nutjob ever okay?" Nobara bounced back another question, making Itadori stop balancing himself on his chair to think for once. The pencil he had on his face clattered onto the ground. "If anything, he's more extra than he was yesterday."

"Exactly," Itadori frowned, the invisible lightbulb above his head continuing to flicker as he thought long and hard about what Gojo could be upset about. He knew it was a stretch, and he himself wasn't too good at reading emotions, but he was sure something was off—from the way Gojo's smile seemed wider to the way his laughs went on for a second too long. "What do you think, Megumi?"

The black-haired boy stopped moving his pencil across the paper. His face remained stoic as the two beside him turned to look in his direction, anticipating an answer from him.

In short, Megumi did know why Gojo seemed off today, and it was all because of his vague memory of you.

He was a clueless child back then, but he felt it. He felt the love you and Gojo shared, something he had seen before between his own mother and father. It was strong, beautiful, like a song that only you and Gojo knew the lyrics to. It was a dance—a slow burn into the spotlight of a world you two created.

He admired it. He admired you and the person you helped Gojo become.

And though your memory was beautiful, it was also tragic. Megumi did mourn you since he remembered bits and pieces of you, but he was sure Gojo mourned you the most. Especially since today was the anniversary of your death. For as long as he's known Gojo, he knew that this one day out of the year was the time when he'd crack more jokes, tease him more, and laugh the loudest—all to mask his pain.

And he couldn't help but think it's because Gojo never properly grieved for you.

"He's the same as usual," Megumi lied. It wasn't their place to know, nor was it his. Everyone had their secrets and the stuff they keep to themselves. Who were they to pry into his business? "You guys should just drop it."

And with that, he went back to his assignment, ignoring the gawking stares from both of his friends.

"Well, now I'm even more curious," Itadori pouted, resting his chin on his hand as he looked out the window just in time to see Gojo's back as he skipped off campus. "He's literally leaving in the middle of the day!"

"Itadori—" Megumi started but got interrupted by his friends' loud voices.

"What?!" Nobara pushed Itadori away from the window so she could look. A sudden spark of curiosity consumed her as she cracked a mischievous grin. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

"We should follow him!" they both said at the same time as they rushed out of the classroom with such speed they left papers flying behind them.

Megumi could only sigh. His peers were likely to get in trouble and drag him into their mess somehow. It never fails. He thought for a moment about how he would benefit from following them to make sure they didn't get caught leaving school grounds without a teacher, but he came up with nothing. He figured he should take his own advice and mind his own business, let those two knuckleheads do whatever they want and suffer the consequences for it.

They could potentially run into dangerous curses, dangerous people, or dangerous people controlling dangerous curses… and then suffer grave injuries. You know what? Maybe he should follow them from a distance.

Meanwhile, the door to the flower shop gave a soft ding as Gojo opened it. His tall frame took up the space in the small shop. Gojo ducked his head as he came in, careful not to knock over the potted plants that rested on the floor and shelves in no particular order. The air was stale with an earthy smell that was oddly comforting. It was good to know that the place remained the same after a year—the only thing that stayed the same in his chaotic life.

"Satoru!" an elderly woman looked up from her newspaper at the sound of the doorbell, thick circle glasses making her eyes appear large and almost fish-like. "Good to see you! How have you been?"

"Mrs. Yamada," Gojo bowed respectfully to the elder, to which the lady playfully pinched and pulled his cheeks. "Missed you too!"

"You silly boy, you know you can visit anytime and not just once a year, you know (Y/N) would've loved that, hm?" Mrs. Yamada made her way behind the counter, already grabbing and wrapping up a single flower. A flower that was your favorite, the same kind you'd always get whenever you would come into this small flower shop.

Gojo never understood why you didn't let him buy a whole bouquet of the flowers you loved. "Then I'd have to take care of all of them," you'd say, your laugh like a sweet melody in his ears that he constantly wanted to replay. "When it's just one, I feel like it lasts longer, you know? I seem to appreciate it more."

The memory made him frown slightly. If you allowed it, he would've bought the whole damn store for you, and you wouldn't just be stuck with a single flower. He didn't get it. He didn't get you. Even after all these years, he was still trying to figure you out.

"Ah, she used to come in every Sunday morning to say hello," Mrs. Yamada smiled warmly. "Always ready to hound me for something sweet to eat. (Y/N) had a nose like a hound and a stomach like a sumo wrestler." The brown wrapping paper crinkled against the elder's fingertips as she folded it around the flower. "Oh, how I miss her."

"Come now, Mrs. Yamada," Gojo leaned against the counter, tapping the wood with excitement. "She'd want us to smile, to celebrate her life, right?! Then that's exactly what we'll do."

"Satoru…"

Gojo waved his hands dismissively. "The usual price for the flowers, right?"

"Yes," Mrs. Yamada rang him up at the cash register before sliding the flower across the counter toward him. But before Gojo could grab it, she pulled it away. "I wanted to tell you before I closed up shop for the day, but… I will be retiring next month."

Gojo's smile fell then.

"I am getting too old, and ever since my husband's passing, I find it quite hard to manage this all on my own, no matter how much I love to do so," she patted the counter lightly, eyes glazed over in a daze as if recalling a memory. "I will be closing the shop and moving to America to stay with my daughter."

"Then are you going to sell the building?"

Gojo found himself asking before he could even think about what to say.

"I'll buy it."

Even in death, you were expensive. How was that possible? Gojo found himself using his savings to buy a whole flower shop that you weren't even here to see. But did that matter to him? Of course not. You were worth every penny—and the shop, to him, was nothing more than a shiny penny that he could buy for your sake. All because you loved it and would visit it often. Gojo couldn't let it close down; it was too valuable for the sake of the memories it held.

So now he owned a flower shop. What the hell was he going to do with a flower shop? He didn't know a damn thing about flowers.

"(Y/N)…" Gojo whispered your name as he pushed open the metal graveyard gate, the bolt making a loud creaking noise that echoed into the summer breeze.

It didn't take Gojo long to find your headstone. After all these years, he knew this cemetery like the back of his hand; at this point, it was like a second home to him. The only place where he could truly let the mask fall as he mourned for you.

In the years you've been gone, he had a long time to think—to wonder why you of all people had to be taken away from him. It made him question, curse, and cry to a higher power above if there was one. Would they be listening? Did they hear him? Did they understand the pain he was put through? And if everything was a part of the higher power's plan, then why was (Y/N) written in with such a tragic story? Why did her life become a song of such somber music?

It wasn't fair. And to Gojo, he would never make sense of it, no matter how hard he tried.

"Ah, it's a beautiful day, (Y/N)." Gojo smiled warmly at your headstone before sitting on the smooth tile, rummaging through his bag to pull out a rag so he could wipe the dust that was on top of your engraved name. "Though I bet you're complaining about how hot it is. I know, it is a little toasty, but a beautiful day nonetheless."

Wiping the concrete clean, Gojo made sure it was spotless with all the cleaning supplies he brought. He had to make up for the year he was away; that's why he always deep-cleaned your headstone since he knew he wouldn't be back until next year. He wanted you to watch the seasons go by with a pretty headstone, one that sparkled whenever the sun cast its rays on it.

"Hm?" Gojo tilted his head as if to hear your unspoken question again. "Oh! I'm doing good. Still teaching. You'd love these lot of kids, though. They have such great potential and are such a reckless bunch who enjoy escaping off campus to follow me here."

"Crap! He's onto us." Gojo heard Nobara's voice from the bushes behind him.

"Do you think he knows?" Itadori asked in his typically clueless fashion.

"He knows, dumbass." Megumi sighed before emerging from the bushes with twiddledee and twiddledumb trailing behind him. Their bantering stopped once they saw Gojo sitting by your headstone, the air suddenly becoming still as they made their way closer.

"Gojo-sensei, we can explain—!"

"Don't even," the white-haired man laughed before gesturing toward the headstone. "(Y/N), meet my students. Students, meet (Y/N)!"

"Ah! Nice to meet you!" Itadori bowed in respect, and so did Megumi.

"Why are we bowing to a dead—" Grabbing ahold of Nobara's hand, Itadori forcibly pulled her down so she could bow as well.

"Oh, you kids are in so much trouble," Gojo said with a gleeful smile. "I'm already thinking of all the ways to punish you."

"In my defense," Megumi started, "I tried to stop them."

"Yetttttt you're still here." Tilting his head, Gojo looked at his students playfully. "I hope you all enjoyed this field trip, but let's head back to campus, yeah? And get ice cream along the way!"

"Oh! Ice cream!" Itadori and Nobara spun around in a dance as they made their way toward the entrance of the cemetery, the pair just finding it best not to question who you were or what you were to Gojo. They could finally sense what Itadori was talking about that morning. He was different today, and it was clear he was sad. "La la la la la!"

"Let's go, Megumi. Do you still prefer chocolate?" Gojo turned to walk away but stopped in his tracks when he noticed Megumi staring at your grave with an expression he couldn't read. "Megumi?"

"Gojo-sensei…" His student turned to look at him. "I just want you to know that it's okay to be sad, to grieve for her."

Gojo chuckled, tucking his hand in his pocket as a breeze cut through the air, its chilled warmth wrapping around the pair. "Who's to say I don't? I grieve her every day."

URAVITSY 2024

[iliothermia]

I truly wish I could share the full story but! This one is for my book..

It's the sad story of a sculptor who survives a shipwreck on his way home from overseas. He awakens entangled in the arms of a handsome merman who never wakes up no matter how he tries. The sculptor inspects every part of the merman wondering about who he was and what happened, there's no explanation.

He spends the rest of his life speculating about who he was and why he saved him, overwhelmed with obsession of giving a new 'life' to a man he never knew by shaping him in stone but never able to fully feel alright without answers. When he finally achieves a sculpture with perfect likeness.. Things grow darker.

[saturnniidae]

People give Valka a lot of shit which makes me sad bc her flaws are what make her interesting, and I LOVE thinking about her character.

Like, Have we considered how she had Hiccup at 20 and was married before that? Have we considered that, though she was in love with Stoick, marrying the Chief (or soon-to-be-chief) is a lot of responsibility? Have we considered how young 20 is and Hiccup takes after her in so many ways, not feeling ready for responsibility or wanting to settle down could be one of them? Have we considered she deliberately didn't come back because she maybe felt she wasn't ready to be a mother? Have we considered she loves Hiccup and Stoick so dearly but needed to live her own life? Have we considered how bittersweet the reunion really was because she realized she missed her chance to actually be a mother and how much the guilt of not coming back must've weighed on her?

I LOVE YOU VALKA HTTYD!!!!!!!

[thorn-91]

Bittersweet death

chapter 4

Word count: 1,127

Alone

It felt like her head was spinning when she woke, the room also seemed to be blurry. It took a few seconds for her vision to steady before she realized that she was back inside. Trying to sit up felt like a challenge, her whole body felt heavy.

“I wouldn't try getting up so quickly.” A voice spoke from behind.

Turning her head slowly she squinted her eyes in the dimly lit room. Once her eyes adjusted she realized that it was master Ubuyashiki on the other end of the room. She tried to speak but her head started to spin once again.

“What happened?...” she mumbled through the dulling pain.

Kagaya walked to the girl's side and kneeled next to her. “When I tried to ask what was troubling you… you began to breathe fast… I think you were having a panic attack. Then shortly after you fainted. I brought you back inside, but you haven't been asleep for too long.” His words sounded full of concern and worry for the young girl. She looked sleep deprived and dehydrated.

Izanami sat up straighter trying to calm her mind. After a few short breaths she looked over to kagaya.

“thank you… you really haven't heard from my family at all?” Her eyebrows lowered and pulled closer together. Small tears formed in her eyes waiting for an answer.

Kagaya gave her another apologetic look. “As I said before I am unaware as to what is happening. I have searched the entire estate for your family but they don't seem to be here.”

Pausing shortly then asking, “Izanami I know you are just waking up, but you really must explain to me what is going on.”

Izanami’s stomach began to twist and turn. Remembering what had happened. She had hoped that it was all just a dream, but when she woke up and saw master Ubuyashiki she realized that it was no dream.

“My … my mother and siblings started to vomit blood the night that you had visited. My father had rushed me to get the cart while my grandparents carried my siblings …” her tears began to flow more rapidly when she recalled the horrifying event.

But she continued.

“I tried to go with them… but my father stopped me from going…” her voice cracked and her mouth felt dry.

“ I waited for them to come back all day but… but no one came. no one has been here but me since last night.” she lowered her head in silence and stared at the sheets bunched at her knees.

Kagaya frowned at the terrible news. But it was the mention of the blood that grabbed his attention. When he had visited the other night everyone seemed happy and healthy. Not a sign of illness. Sudden vomiting of blood?…. That sounded a lot like when he first started feeling the symptoms of his own illness. Regardless this wasn't a good sign, and with so many demon sightings in the past few months in the surrounding area… he didn't have a good feeling.

And if they haven't returned since that night… I fear what has kept them from home for so long…

He would have to send out people to make sure. Although he couldn't necessarily do that without members asking too many questions. Crows would be the safer option.

But that would have to wait, he had to make sure that Izanami was okay. He would have to stay with her for a little while to make sure she didn't also start feeling ill.

And with Izanami not saying anything and her shallow breath he could only assume that she had fallen asleep again.

Kagaya sat in the quiet room a little while longer to make sure that he could leave the girl to rest alone. Quietly he got up and walked out into the courtyard of the estate. He was greeted by one of his daughters who had gone to fetch water for Izanami.

He walked further into the yard and stood near a small pond. He could hear the gentle drops of water made by the tiny waterfall. Raising his head to the sky, his thoughts wandered to Izanami's father. Him and Genkei had been friends for as long as he could remember. His father had brought Kagaya to the Hikari estate before when he was a young boy. Kagaya was surprised to learn about the strange family who lived on the mountain… swarming with demons.

When he and Geneki first met, Genkei took him all over the estate. Showing him all his favorite hiding places and teaching him some games he liked to play.

The two had become friends over a very short period of time. Kagaya would beg his father if he could come along on his monthly trips to the Hikari Manson. It wasn't until Kagaya turned 16 that he and his father stopped visiting the family.

Kagaya would often exchange letters with Genkei from time to time just to keep in touch. Most of their letters were discussions about demons and their families. And when word of Genkei's engagement was heard, Kagaya wanted to congratulate him in person.

Unfortunately it was around the time when he first started to feel the symptoms of the curse, and he was unable to go and see his friend's wedding in person.

Years had passed before the two met again face to face. Only exchanging letters, but even that was becoming increasingly less when Kagaya's father passed away, making him master of the demon slayer corps.

With years of no word between the two, Kagaya was sent a letter from Genkei inviting him to meet to catch up and introduce him to his first born, Izanami.

All which seemed like forever ago, and now to hear that his closest friend had gone missing and potentially…dead, was a lot to take in at once.

“Father Miss Izanami has woken up again, and is requesting you.”

Turning his head in the direction of his daughter's voice he smiled. “I will be right over. Could you please bring another pitcher of water, and possibly find something for Miss Izanami to eat? I believe the kitchen is down the longest hall

”She gave a quick “mhm” for a response and left quickly.

Before returning he gazed in the direction of the bright light of the moon.

The smell of rain filled his nose, and with a cool breeze setting in he could only assume that it would rain soon.

Soft droplets of water fell upon his face. Extending his hand outwards he felt more of the tiny cold pricks along his palm. With a heavy sigh he turned around and walked back inside to speak with the young girl.

End of chapter

Thank you for reading!

[winterrbluess]

Spoilers

Ok now that the initial shock has faded and I'm much more grounded. This chapter is good actually. Everyone knew Sukuna was going to die and to some extent I knew his death was going to be anything but glorious. It's jjk people rarely get good and respectful death let alone a grand and glorious one but yeah Gege took me out again with how he closed Sukuna's arc. Was it underwhelming? Yes. In jjk if you don't adapt, don't change you're doomed to fail and Sukuna no matter how much physically strong he was always emotionally fragile and in the end his own lack of self awareness became his cause of demise. Kenjaku the biggest villian of the series (for me, the heinous acts he has done is way more than mass murder) got a pretty satisfying end for him because he was open to see and connect with Takaba. Sukuna never did that and died a lump of flesh. And honestly it's not humiliating or pathetic. At first glance it did seem like with him becoming a slime but he didn't die begging for his life rather still being the no 1 hater and his pride mostly intact (he did looked overwhelmed but when after 1000 years you actually lose it's given) also as hypocritcal as ever (mocking Yuji and others for fearing death but he himself felt that too) His death was neither like a glorious warrior nor truly pathetic like Mahito's. For me he just...had a simple and quick death. Though Yuji holding his remains and finally telling him something that he always unconsciously craved for was very bittersweet maybe this is what Yuji had told him on their stroll time things could've been...better? His 'you're me' moved me honestly. They both are the different sides of a coin. It was sad how Sukuna (the man who never cared for any identification or title) for the first time out of everything chose to identify as a...curse really showed how hollow his sense of self was actually. But no matter how much Sukuna denied it he was still...a human not a god not a curse and he died as such and with the only family he ever had at that (maybe if you see he died in the hands of the only family he ever had) and though a direct parallel to Mahito it wasn't hate that Yuji felt and I think neither pity but empathy genuine empathy. Wishing a place where Sukuna could get someone like he had his grandfather, Gojo had Geto and Megumi had Him....

Rip Ryomen Sukuna very few other characters had me itch my brain with their duality.

[transingthoseformers]

I've been thinking about especially doomed megop

Situations where they do honestly still kind of love each other (or it's one sided?) but they just. Can't get back together. It's too late. It's been too late.

[thisisxli]

𝐖𝐚𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫. - 𝐊𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢 𝐁.

Rs: Pro! Katsuki Bakugou x Pro! GN Reader(afab)

Warnings: manga spoilers, ANGST, grief, slight panick attacks, MAJOR character death mention(not canon but is canon..), heart break

Tags: bittersweet, different circumstances, reader is kind of a crybaby but for good reasons, time/dimensional travel, reader is hopelessly in love with him + will hopelessly be stuck on him for the rest of their life, Katsuki is equally or more in love, reminiscing, everyone is in their early 30s

Summary: Being hit by a quirk is one thing. But to be sent to another universe is absolutely bewildering. It starts to become heart-wrenching when someone you once knew as dead is now alive in this alternate universe.

wc: 1.1k

Recommended song:

a/n: if you enjoy this work, check out the others in my Masterlist. :)

Being hit with a quirk usually didn't phase you, it was rather common for you.

But to be sent to a whole other timeline- or rather... universe? You knew it was the same timeline but different universe. Why? Because Katsuki Bakugou was standing right in front of you- with another you holding his hand, both staring at you in surprise. In fact, it wasn't just them. But other old classmates from the high school you used to attend. Shocked faces as the other you ushers them out the room. You couldn't move your gaze away from Katsuki at all. Because the Katsuki you knew was dead. To see him standing, more mature, a grown man ridden with scars has you bawling rather quite embarrassingly.

"Hey! Who the hell- wait no.. What-" Katsuki's head turns to you and the other you aggressively, confusion and agitation growing into his face. Before he could blow at your crying figure, the other you steps up in front of you, hands held up in defense. "Katsuki! Don't.. resort to that. Let's be calm and rational.. Let's.." The other you turns to you, a worried expression displayed on their features. "Let's just talk."

And so, that's what you did. You explain how you were in the middle of battling a villain just before you got hit by their quirk. Kirishima and the other pros must be worried about you right now.

"And... Bakugou," your breath hitches, eyes flickering to him for a second, "in my universe.. You died. You died in the war from All For One... or rather, Shigiraki." Katsuki stiffens at the mention of that familiar yet foreign name. So did other you. The... other Kirishima rubs your back soothingly. "Edge-shot wasn't able to repair your heart.. it.. it- after you died, I couldn't- I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," you mutter, bowing deeply at his feet as you squeeze your eyes shut tight, tears escaping through and past your eyelids. Your breathing rapidly increases which Katsuki quickly picks up before Kirishima does, grabbing you under the arms gently, lifting you up to sit back to your position. The other you seemed almost heart-broke at the thought of dead-Katsuki, sharing their sympathy.

Katsuki was silent the whole time, a calm expression on his face. You barely saw that back in high school. You wonder how he is at this time of age.

"Kiri, let's go," the other you urges, waving a hand at Kirishima. They give you a soft smile before walking off and out the room with the red spiky haired man. You and Katsuki sit there in silence, a few silent tears escaping your face at the view of your.. dead crush/classmate? You didn't even know anymore. "Stop your crying," Katsuki scoffs, closing his eyes. You blink at him. Seriously? Maybe he was still the same- "I hate seeing you cry," he looks into your eyes, raising his hand to your face to wipe a tear with his thumb, "it makes me upset." Wait- woah. Were.. you two together?

You blush heavily, wrinkling your pants when you tighten your hold on it. He notices of course, waving your hand away. "I don't know if you're just realizing we're together," wow. He reads you like a book. "But if you are just now realizing it, you need to get that brain of yours checked."

Same old, same old. You snort before laughing, earning a soft scowl from him. "Tell me.." Your laughter dies out, tilting your head to listen, "how is it like.. without me there?" You blink at him, smile dropping quickly. "Well.. It's... empty, at least for me, always has. A lot of us are doing fine there, it's like.. you never existed," his face turns sour from that, "but you are brought up time to time.. and we celebrate the day you died- not that we're celebrating that you died! But.. you were honestly," you look up at him with adoring eyes, "one of the greatest heroes of all time. So we felt the need to celebrate the day of your self-sacrifice."

Katsuki looks at you, unable to comprehend on how to respond to that. Luckily, when nothing comes to mind, you ask him a question, "how did.. we..? How did you.." He chuckles, running his scarred hand over his hair. "I confessed first, if that's what you're asking. We started dated in our second year and have been ever since," his eyes avert down to the golden ring on his finger and your eyes also follow, "and we.. got married. about six years ago."

You look up at his face, his face contorting into a softening loving look. You never seen this side of him before at all. Your feelings that you never lost for the boy, now man, seems to grow a little more.

You both flinch when a weird swooshing sound comes from behind you, a portal comes into your view when you turn. Out pops is a way much more familiar red spiky haired man. "(Y/N)! You-" suddenly his voice breaks and stops working, staring at the grown blonde man in front of you. "Bakugou," Kirishima breathes, tears seeping from his tear ducts, threatening to fall. Now it was time for you to cry. You shake your head violently, jumping into Bakugou's arms, catching him by surprise. "N-no! I don't- wait please! I don't want to go yet! Not yet, not yet! Please- Katsuki! I have so much to say- so much to ask! Please-" Katsuki kisses you in an open mouth kiss, hands gently caressing your face and hair.

Heat rises to your cheeks as tears fall, his warm lips detaching from yours. "That always works," he chuckles softly, looking up at Kirishima with a fond smile before looking down at you with his piercing eyes that held so much love, the same you held for him. "(Y/N), I am so, so sorry that I'm not there. I really am, for everybody. If you had more time, of course I'd answer anything you'd ask. But let me tell you this," he gently pecks your forehead gently, as if on cue, the other you walks in with a small Bakugou clinging onto their leg. Your lip bobbles at the sight. "I love you. I always did, have, and will," Bakugou wraps his arms around you, smiling at the now-crying Kirishima from your universe. Even with Katsuki's voice being so soft, his voice still remained so gruff. His voice was like hearing music for the first time in years. Something you hadn't heard in years.

Before you step through the portal, you look back at the happy family, all three smiling at you. You smile back, feeling a little bitter that you couldn't have this ending. But nonetheless, you were happy that another part of you still got this ending. You felt closure. Now that you know that he still survived from the war, you were a little happy.

Only that it was just from another universe. Not yours.

[aventurineswife]

A kinda specific and maybe long but fun idea i had for a req:

Essentially, {and bare w me, i’m half asleep writing this lol} Reader x Sunday, and Reader is a childhood friend of his, who he loved, and someday when they were older, Reader was tragically killed in an incident. Sunday however, in a grief stricken state, decides to rebel against his original goal for the sweetdream paradise (penacony arc reference) and decides to shape it into a dream instead where he’s happily married to Reader, although for the sake of the dream he’s altered their memories. ending is essentially up to you!

{some additional ideas i had if you wanted to, were things like an argument between gopher and sunday, or robin and sunday, in whichever points of the story you wanted}

alternatively, a different Aventurine version would be interesting, mostly w the same set up but Sunday met Reader during Aventurine’s mission on Penacony, liked them, and Aven has to basically fight off the dream and Sunday.

but yeah, that’s pretty much it, everything else is up for creative liberties! i hope this one is at least somewhat interesting lol xx and srry if some of it doesn’t make sense 😓🤍

“Sometimes, the hardest part of letting go is realizing that the dream was never real”

Summary: In the idyllic yet hollow world of Sweetdream Paradise, Sunday crafts a perfect life with you—his lost love, altered memories and all—to escape the sorrow of reality. But as others begin to break through his illusion, and you start to remember fragments of a different fate, the dream begins to fracture. Torn between love and the harshness of truth, Sunday must finally face the choice to let you go, or remain forever in his self-made paradise.

Tags: Sunday x Reader, unrequited love, grief, loss, dreamscape, bittersweet ending, altered memories, memory manipulation, moral dilemma, angst, hurt/comfort, alternate reality, surrealism, slow unraveling, denial of reality.

Warnings: Grief, themes of manipulation, psychological trauma, implied death of Reader, reality distortion, emotional conflict, bittersweet resolution, morally ambiguous decisions.

A/N: Don't worry, anon! I appreciate all the details, the more details the more I can try to understand what you want exactly! Though I probably changed some bits of it here 😪

Sunday had always been proud of his role within Penacony, the creator of Sweetdream Paradise—a place where sorrow could be stilled, where suffering dissolved into an endless realm of serene dreams. It was a comforting reality he believed people needed, a soft oblivion to cradle them. Yet, in the depths of his mind, his peaceful philosophy hid a darker purpose, shaped by the ache of a loss he could never endure.

You had been his friend, a constant light in his youth, a companion who grounded his dreams. For as long as he remembered, you were there, with laughter that melted his worries and eyes that could see through his layered philosophies. But the day you were lost, taken too soon in a tragic incident, the world itself had hollowed out for him. The pain of your absence haunted him like a shadow, feeding a grief so deep that he was willing to defy his original purpose. In that moment of desolation, he turned Sweetdream Paradise into something far more personal—a realm where you still lived, where you loved him just as much as he had loved you.

In this new dream, Sunday made alterations. He reshaped your memories, softened the sharp edges of reality, and wove a seamless history where you had married him, where together, you built a life free of tragedy. In this dream, he could protect you eternally, shielded by his crafted illusion.

You woke to sunlight filtering through the windows, lying beside Sunday as the golden morning glow danced over his features. His eyes opened, catching you with a familiar warmth, and he reached over, brushing his fingers across your cheek.

"Good morning." he murmured, voice low and rich, as if savoring the simplicity of that greeting.

Every day was like this—a gentle, perfect rhythm that never seemed to break. You didn’t remember a world outside of this home, this life with him. And as you looked at him, you felt safe, loved, yet there was always a faint unease, like a fragment of something forgotten.

But the days went on, filled with laughter and love. Sunday seemed devoted to making sure you never doubted this world, his every word a reassurance that here, you were whole and happy.

One evening, as Sunday worked quietly at his desk, a visitor shattered the peace of his dream. It was Robin, standing just inside the doorway, her expression dark with a kind of wary sadness.

“Brother, you need to stop this,” she said, folding her arms. Her gaze fixed on him, seeing through the veneer of the dream. “This isn’t right. This… this paradise you’re keeping isn’t reality.”

Sunday straightened, his face hardening at her words. “Who are we to deny people peace, Robin? Haven’t we seen enough pain? Haven’t they?” His voice broke slightly, the facade slipping as he glanced toward where you sat by the fire, unaware of the intensity in his voice. He softened, as if trying to protect the dream from any trace of discord.

“You’re keeping people trapped. Yourself included. And for what? A fantasy? Is that really what they would have wanted?” Robin’s voice grew more urgent, her frustration showing. “They’re gone. You have to accept that.”

Sunday’s fists clenched at her words, every fiber in his body resisting the truth. “How could you understand?” he whispered. “In this place, they’re alive. I’m not hurting anyone. I’m giving them peace. Doesn’t that count for something?”

Robin stared at him, her gaze a mix of pity and sorrow. “At what cost, Brother? You’re keeping yourself from moving on, holding them hostage in a world that isn’t even real.”

In an alternate version of Penacony, Sunday’s paradise faced an even stranger twist. Aventurine, the cunning Stoneheart known for his strategic mind, was on his own mission in Sweetdream Paradise, seeking information that only Sunday could provide. But as he delved into the fabric of this dreamscape, he found himself questioning the reality around him, the shimmering dream where Sunday lived an idyllic life with you.

Aventurine confronted Sunday one night, his tone half-amused, half-concerned. “Interesting setup you have here,” he remarked, eyes gleaming with curiosity as he took in the flawless surroundings. “I almost believed it myself… almost. But what happens when the dream can’t hold itself together anymore?”

Sunday’s gaze narrowed, his protective instincts flaring. “What do you mean by that?”

Aventurine shrugged, his gaze flicking to you, sitting quietly, oblivious to the tension. “Everyone in this place… it’s all too perfect, isn’t it? You’re clinging to a memory, one that doesn’t belong here.”

In a rare flash of anger, Sunday stepped forward, his eyes darkening. “This isn’t any of your concern, Aventurine. Leave.”

Aventurine met his glare, his smirk slipping. “You think you’re the only one who’s loved and lost? Reality has its flaws, Sunday. It’s messy, painful… but it’s real. This—this is just a prison you’re keeping yourself in.”

Sunday’s voice trembled, caught between anguish and fury. “Better a beautiful dream than a brutal reality.”

Aventurine’s gaze softened for a brief moment, though he couldn’t abandon his sardonic tone. “But at least in reality, they would have remembered you for who you are, not a god in a gilded cage.”

In the end, it was you—within the dream—who finally confronted him, feeling the intangible pull of memories you didn’t recognize. “Sunday… something doesn’t feel right,” you whispered one night, as he sat beside you. “I keep… remembering pieces of something different, something that feels like it wasn’t supposed to end this way.”

Sunday’s face grew pale, fear creeping into his eyes. “No, you don’t have to worry about that. You’re here. We’re together. Isn’t that enough?”

But as you searched his eyes, you could feel the truth breaking through, the dream trembling under the weight of reality. “Sunday, what are you not telling me?”

He looked away, his heart shattering as he realized he couldn’t keep you here forever. Slowly, he whispered, “I… I just wanted to keep you safe. To give us a life that didn’t end in sorrow.”

With a trembling hand, you reached out, brushing a tear from his cheek. “It’s okay to let go. You have to keep going… even if it means letting me go.”

Sunday’s shoulders shook, the dream beginning to unravel around them, pieces of the illusion fading as he looked into your eyes one last time. “I… I don’t know if I can.”

But in the final moments, he felt your hand slip away, leaving him alone in the vast silence of his own grief. And as he awoke from his dream, Sunday found himself in a world still plagued by loss, his heart hollow yet somehow freer. Though you were gone, he understood, at last, that he had to face reality, no matter how painful it was.

And in that pain, he found a fragile hope—a sliver of light breaking through the dark.

*cutely posts all my drafts that have been dying to see the light* 😇💖