#black round dial watch

[sureshndsl]

The Timeless Allure of Black Dial Watches: A Perfect Blend of Style and Sophistication

Black dial watches for men have long been a symbol of elegance and versatility, making them a popular choice for both men and women. Their sleek design and adaptability ensure they complement every outfit and occasion. Let’s delve into the charm of black dial watches and find the perfect one for your style.

Why Choose a Black Dial Watch?

The dark elegance of a black dial watch exudes sophistication, offering a modern yet timeless appeal. Whether paired with gold accents or classic analog designs, black dial watches are ideal for formal events, office wear, or casual outings.

Popular Styles of Black Dial Watches

Black Dial Watches for Ladies Black dial women’s watches feature refined designs, often incorporating slim straps, delicate embellishments, and smaller round dials for a feminine touch. These watches blend elegance with practicality, making them a versatile accessory for every occasion.

Gold Watch with Black Dial The combination of a gold watch and a black dial is a classic choice for those who seek luxury. The gold accents enhance the richness of the black dial, creating a stunning contrast perfect for both men and women.

Black Dial Analog Watches Analog black dial watches combine simplicity with sophistication. For men, the analog black dial adds a professional and masculine look, while women’s analog designs often include intricate details for added charm.

Black Round Dial Watches A black round dial watch is a timeless option that suits all wrist sizes and styles. Its classic shape ensures it never goes out of fashion, making it a must-have accessory.

Black Dial Watches for Men and Women

For men, black dial analog watches with leather or stainless steel straps are popular for their bold and professional appearance. Women’s black dial watches often feature slimmer designs with gold or silver accents, offering a graceful look.

Caring for Your Black Dial Watch

To keep your black dial watch looking its best, clean the dial and strap regularly with a soft cloth. Avoid exposing it to extreme conditions to maintain its longevity.

A black dial watch is a timeless accessory that elevates your style effortlessly. Explore your options today and embrace the charm of this versatile timepiece!

[anshndsl]

The Allure of Black Dial Watches: Timeless Elegance for Men and Women

Black dial watches for men are the epitome of sophistication, offering a blend of style and versatility. Whether you’re looking for a bold analog black dial men’s watch or an elegant black dial women’s watch, these timepieces suit a variety of occasions, from boardroom meetings to evening outings. Let’s dive into the world of black dial watches and discover why they’re a must-have accessory for men and women alike.

Why Choose a Black Dial Watch?

Black dial watches offer unique benefits that make them a popular choice:

Timeless Appeal

Black is a universally flattering color that never goes out of style.

Versatility

Pairs effortlessly with both formal and casual attire.

Enhanced Readability

Contrasting hands and markers on a black dial improve legibility, even in low light.

Unisex Design

Black dial watches suit both men and women, with styles ranging from minimalist to ornate.

Types of Black Dial Watches

Black Dial Analog Watches

Perfect for traditionalists, these watches feature classic analog movements and clean designs.

Gold Watch with Black Dial

A luxurious combination, the gold accents add warmth and opulence to the sleek black dial.

Black Dial Women’s Watches

Slim profiles, crystal embellishments, and elegant straps define this category, perfect for ladies seeking sophistication.

Black Dial Watches for Men

Typically larger in size with bold features, these watches often include chronographs or sporty elements.

Black Round Dial Watches

The round dial is a timeless shape, offering a balanced and harmonious design.

Top Black Dial Watches for Men and Women

For Men

Seiko Analog Black Dial Watch: A blend of functionality and elegance.

Fossil Chronograph Black Dial Watch: Perfect for a modern, sporty look.

For Women

Titan Black Dial Women’s Watch: Sleek and chic, ideal for daily wear.

Michael Kors Gold and Black Dial Watch: A statement piece for special occasions.

Unisex Options

Casio Vintage Black Dial Watch: Retro charm with a contemporary twist.

Black Dial Watch Price Range

Budget-Friendly Options: ₹2,000–₹10,000 (brands like Titan, Fastrack).

Mid-Range Watches: ₹10,000–₹30,000 (brands like Fossil, Citizen).

Luxury Watches: ₹30,000+ (brands like Seiko, Tissot, Tag Heuer).

How to Choose the Perfect Black Dial Watch

Dial Design

Minimalist dials for understated elegance.

Chronograph features for added functionality.

Strap Type

Leather straps for a classic, formal look.

Stainless steel straps for durability and a modern vibe.

Size and Fit

Opt for a dial size that complements your wrist; smaller for women and larger for men.

Special Features

Consider water resistance, luminous markers, or smart capabilities based on your needs.

Where to Buy Black Dial Watches

Online: Explore platforms like Amazon, Flipkart, and Myntra for a wide range of options.

Retail Stores: Visit showrooms for premium brands like Tissot, Seiko, and Fossil.

Caring for Your Black Dial Watch

Regular Cleaning

Wipe the dial and strap with a soft cloth to maintain its shine.

Proper Storage

Store in a watch box to prevent scratches and dust accumulation.

Battery Maintenance

Replace batteries promptly to avoid leakage that can damage the movement.

Conclusion

A black dial watch is more than just a timepiece—it’s a statement of style and individuality. Whether you’re drawn to a luxurious gold watch with a black dial or a sleek black dial analog watch, these versatile accessories elevate any outfit.

Find the perfect black dial watch to match your personality and make every moment timeless!

[ragavndsl]

Elevate Your Style with Timeless Black Dial Watches for Men and Women

Black dial watches are a classic choice for those seeking a stylish, versatile accessory. The dark dial adds a sense of sophistication and elegance, making these timepieces ideal for both formal and casual settings. With options available for men and women, black dial watches come in various styles, from analog classics to modern, statement pieces.

For men, black dial watches offer a sleek, understated look that pairs well with almost any attire. A popular choice is the black dial analog watch, which combines a minimalist design with a reliable time-telling function. Black round dial watches with leather straps or metal bracelets add a touch of elegance and are suitable for both business and evening wear. For a more luxurious option, a gold watch with a black dial delivers a bold, contrasting look that exudes sophistication. This style is particularly appealing for those looking to make a statement with a unique blend of warmth and strength.

Women’s black dial watches bring an equally refined aesthetic, with options ranging from delicate, slim styles to bold, modern designs. A black dial watch for ladies pairs beautifully with silver, rose gold, or gold accents, giving each timepiece a unique character that can complement any outfit. The simplicity of a black dial makes it versatile, while added embellishments or textured straps can provide a more personalized look. A black dial women’s watch with a metal or leather strap is ideal for those who appreciate elegance with an edge.

Analog black dial men’s watches remain a top choice for their traditional appeal and ease of reading. With clean lines and a monochromatic look, they are perfect for men who favor a classic, functional style. Round dials are the preferred shape for both men’s and women’s black dial watches, as they offer a balanced look that never goes out of style.

In summary, black dial watches are a timeless addition to any collection. From black dial analog watches to luxurious gold accents, these timepieces are as stylish as they are versatile. Explore black dial watches for men and women to find the perfect accessory that complements your taste and lifestyle.

[aryanndspl]

Elevate Your Timekeeping with Seiko Black Dial Watches

Seiko black dial watches offer a perfect blend of elegance, functionality, and timeless style. Whether you're looking for a sophisticated accessory for formal occasions or a versatile watch for everyday wear, Seiko's collection of black dial watches caters to all preferences. Let's explore the various types of black dial watches available for men and women, including the striking combination of gold and black, and why they are a must-have in your watch collection.

Seiko Black Dial Watches

Seiko is renowned for its precision and craftsmanship, and their black dial watches are no exception. The deep, rich black dial adds a touch of sophistication and versatility, making these watches suitable for any occasion.

Seiko Men's Black Dial Watches: These watches often feature stainless steel or leather straps, providing both durability and style. The Seiko Prospex and Presage series offer excellent options with black dials, combining functionality with elegance.

Seiko Women's Black Dial Watches: Designed with the modern woman in mind, these watches are elegant and stylish. The Seiko Women's SUR640 and the Seiko Women's SUP274 are popular choices that blend classic design with contemporary appeal.

Black Dial Watches for Ladies

Black dial watches for ladies are sophisticated and versatile, perfect for adding a touch of elegance to any outfit.

Seiko Women's Black Dial Watch: With a sleek design and refined details, Seiko's black dial watches for women offer a timeless look. The Seiko Women's SWR054P1 features a black dial with gold-tone accents, combining classic elegance with modern style.

Michael Kors Women's Black Dial Watch: Known for its fashionable designs, Michael Kors offers black dial watches that are both stylish and functional, such as the Michael Kors Women's Pyper Black Dial Watch.

Gold Watch with Black Dial

The combination of a gold case and a black dial creates a striking contrast, resulting in a watch that is both luxurious and bold.

Seiko Men's Gold Watch with Black Dial: The Seiko Men's SUR318 features a gold-tone stainless steel case with a black dial, offering a sophisticated and elegant look.

Tissot PR 100 Gold and Black Dial Watch: This watch combines a gold-tone case with a black dial, providing a refined and stylish option for those who appreciate luxury.

Black Dial Analog Watches

Analog watches with black dials offer a classic and timeless appeal. The simplicity of an analog display paired with a black dial ensures easy readability and a clean look.

Seiko Men's Analog Black Dial Watch: The Seiko Men's SNK809 features a black dial with luminous hands and markers, providing both functionality and style.

Fossil Men's Townsman Black Dial Analog Watch: Combining vintage-inspired design with modern functionality, this watch offers a sophisticated look with its black dial and leather strap.

Black Round Dial Watches

Round dial watches are a timeless choice, and when paired with a black dial, they offer a sleek and versatile accessory suitable for any occasion.

Citizen Men's Eco-Drive Black Round Dial Watch: Powered by light, this eco-friendly watch features a black round dial and a stainless steel case, making it a durable and stylish choice.

Daniel Wellington Women's Classic Petite Black Round Dial Watch: Known for its minimalist design, this watch features a black round dial with a slim profile, offering a chic and elegant look.

Conclusion

Black dial watches are timeless accessories that enhance any wardrobe. Whether you prefer the luxurious look of a gold watch with a black dial, the classic appeal of an analog display, or the versatility of a round dial, there is a perfect black dial watch for everyone. Explore Seiko's collection along with other renowned brands to find the ideal watch that combines elegance, functionality, and style. Elevate your timekeeping with a black dial watch and make a sophisticated statement wherever you go.

[ravindsl]

Seiko Black Dial Analog Round Watches for Men And Women

Elevate your style with our exquisite collection of black dial watches for men and women. a perfect blend of style and functionality. Shop now! At Seiko Store

[lovebugism]

hiii can i pls request shy!reader where eddie teaches her guitar but she keeps getting distracted by her crush on him and then they confess to each other 🥰 idk I'm just obsessed with eddie and guitars in general haha

ty for requesting!! — in which eddie calls his two favorite things sweetheart, his guitar and you (friends to lovers, fluff, 1.7k)

bug's summer fic fest (⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

Eddie’s bedroom is heavy with an early summer heat. There’s one square window above his bed where the golden hour sun filters through directly. It spotlights the guitar hanging above his dresser, sparkling with bits of swirling dust in the air. 

“Sorry I’m late, sweetheart,” Eddie greets the instrument, as though it were a real thing with feelings. You idle behind him and watch in the mirror as he kisses two of his fingers and presses them to the strings. A crooked smirk sits lazily on his mouth at the graceless sound it makes.

“Is that its name?” you joke in a mousy voice, clammy hands wringing as thoughts of nonbelonging strangle you. You feel utterly out of place here, in this mess of boyish chaos — with heavy metal posters of bands you don’t know and movie prints with references you don’t recognize. 

The boy standing beneath it all turns to face you. He looks at you with the smile he always looks at you with — distant, pink, and quiet — like he doesn’t even know it’s there. And you feel at home all over again.

“Huh?” Eddie chuckles.

“Sweetheart,” you add.

“Sure,” he shrugs, scratching at the wild curls coiled at the nape of his neck. Another laugh sputters from his smiling mouth. “Might as well be, I guess. I’ve been callin’ her that since I got her.”

“Oh… It’s a she now, too?”

There’s a foreign twinkle in your sheepish gaze. A mischievous sort of glint Eddie only gets to see when you’re feeling brave enough to show it to him — comfortable enough, anyway. It makes his chest warm with pride, knowing he’s cracking away at the shell you so often hide behind.

“Uh-huh,” Eddie cajoles, nodding as he scrunches the bridge of his nose. With his hands on his leans hips, he walks the short distance to you. His sneakers sound heavy on the worn carpet. “She’s got all the features of a beautiful woman, too, you know? Strong but delicate. Easy to understand when you get to know her, but always slightly complicated in her own way.”

You forget to blink until he’s looming over you. Until his towering form blocks the flow of the tiny fan whirring on his desk. Until you can smell the pine of his cologne and the mint of his aftershave with every trembling inhale.

The petaled smirk on his rosy mouth makes your breath catch. His dark eyes are round like buttons, and they glimmer like melted chocolate as he peers down at you — like he’s talking to you directly. 

You feel utterly see-through beneath his unwavering stare. With your heart in your throat, you turn away. “Well, you’d know better than me, I guess,” you falter, voice trembling as you force a breathy laugh. 

Eddie doesn’t seem nearly as fazed by the proximity. His eyes narrow in a challenging squint. “Wanna learn how to play?”

You flash him a wide-eyed stare in response. A distant smile wavers at the edges of your mouth ‘cause you figure he must be joking. Eddie only grins in response, raising his brows in an expectant look, and you cower all over again.

“Oh, I… I don’t… I don’t know,” you stammer hopelessly and twist your anxious hands into a knot. “I don’t think I have, you know, the— the deftness for it or whatever…”

Eddie scoffs a faint laugh and steps back from you. He plucks the instrument from the wall in a few short steps. “Well, how about we just pretend I know what that word means while I teach you?” he jokes with the guitar cradled in an expert hand. 

His rings match the silver strings and the metal dials you don’t recognize. The black paint pairs well with his leather jacket, and the cracked scarlet pattern with his Hellfire tee. It looks like it was crafted with only him in mind. 

The mattress squeaks under his weight when he plops along the edge of it.

You shift on your feet in front of him, visibly unsure. “I don’t wanna break it,” you fret.

“You’re not gonna break it,” Eddie laughs with a smile that reveals all his teeth. He tosses his chin back to shake wild curls from his face, then squints solemnly at you. “Unless you’ve got, like, some kinda super-strength I don’t know about… You’re not a superhero, are you?”

You tilt your cheek to your shoulder in a sheepish look. “I can neither confirm nor deny,” you answer in a sarcastic murmur.

“Hm. That’s exactly what a superhero would say…” he teases, just to make you laugh, then smiles as he pats the bed beside him. “Here. C’mon. Sit down.”

Despite your better judgment, you sit in the spare spot next to him. The mattress is hard beneath you, worsened by your inability to get comfortable with Eddie’s body so close to yours. It makes you tense, so aware of yourself and him and this moment.

You keep a couple measured inches between you, which Eddie closes with little effort. His thigh presses to your thigh as he ushers the guitar into your lap. He maneuvers himself behind you, with an arm wormed around your back, so he’s got your left hand in his. His chest is flush against your shoulder. His wild curls tickle your neck. You have to remind yourself to breathe.

“Put your hands… like this…” Eddie mumbles as he guides your fingers over the neck of the guitar. When he’s set them in a stair-step pattern over the strings, he ducks his head to look at you. His wide eyes dart over your face. “That feel good?”

You nod wordlessly, skin buzzing under his touch.

“Good. Now, all you have to do is strum.”

You lift your wrist and hope he doesn’t notice how your hand shakes. Your fingers brush the steel strings. A quiet, distorted noise fills the quiet bedroom. 

Eddie grins wide despite your feeble attempt. “See? You’ve already got the hardest part down,” he beams. When you don’t laugh at his futile effort to make you laugh, his smile wavers. “Hey… You can relax, you know? Sweetheart’s not gonna bite you.”

“No, I know,” you waver, then remember to breathe.

“Then why’s it feel like I’m sittin’ next to a rock?”

“‘Cause this is, like, your most prized possession,” you laugh. “And I’m… the clumsiest person on the earth, and you’re letting me touch it anyway.”

“‘Cause you’re my second most prized possession,” Eddie quips.

You meet his smile with a knowing squint. “You don’t own me, Eds.”

His eyes narrow similarly. “Don’t act like you’re not flattered.” 

His breath fans across your cheek at the proximity. A dizzying concoction of nicotine and spearmint gum. Your eyes flit to his lips, for a flicker of a moment, and you realize he’s close now enough to kiss. 

Something about it makes you panic. Words spill from your mouth in stumbled rambles accordingly. “I just— I know I’m not gonna be any good at it, and it’s just gonna be a huge waste of time for both of us, so—”

Eddie scoffs. “If you don’t wanna spend time with me, you coulda just said.”

The mattress squeaks when he starts to shift away from you. His chest moves off your shoulder and leaves you cold, even in the suffocating humidity. Your heart wrenches. “It’s not that— don’t go,” you plead in a tiny voice.

Eddie, who hadn’t really wanted to leave in the first place, gravitates to you again with little effort. “So you do wanna spend time with me?” he wonders, equal parts teasing and searching for assurance.

You swallow hard, then nod.

“Just, maybe, without the guitar?” Eddie presses.

“I think we’d both be better off if I just watched you play it, honestly.”

“Ooh,” the boy croons, brows bouncing beneath his fluffy bangs. “So you like to watch, huh?”

Your eyes roll. “Don’t be daft.”

Eddie laughs and presses himself against you again — chest against your back, arm against your arm. “Here. C’mon. Just try again, alright? For me.” You let him guide your hand back to the neck of the guitar. His warm, ringed fingers cradle your own. “Put your fingers like— there you go. Look at that, you’re a pro already.”

He tries to bite back a smile at the look you give him. He fails.

“Alright, now…” he trails off, shifting impossibly closer until he’s flush with the right side of your body. “Try not to be so scared, alright? Sweetheart can sense fear, so just… Act natural.”

You exhale a wavering breath. When Eddie feels you relax against him, he tells you, “Now strum again…”

You twist your wrist and bring your fingers down in a motion that feels more natural this time. The sound that fills the bedroom, then, is much more pleasant than the one that came before it.

“At this rate, you’ll be better than me within the year,” Eddie muses.

You squint and try not to smile. “Don’t patronize me.”

“I’m serious!” he argues, laughing despite himself. “You’re a fast learner! With some proper lessons, you could do my Master of Puppets solo in no time— with your eyes closed.”

“Lessons?” you echo, brows pinched.

“Yeah,” Eddie shrugs and tries to play it cool. “I mean… You might have to come over from time to time. You know, so I can show you the ropes and everything, but… After a few months together, I’m sure you’ll be a total professional.”

You know exactly what he’s playing at. The notion makes your heart thrum hard against your ribcage.

“Well, what about after a few months?” you tease with a quiet smile. “What then?”

Eddie’s eyes flit to the ceiling for a moment as he ponders the question. “I don’t know… You keep coming around, I guess? And I make you the best damn guitarist this side of Indiana’s ever seen?”

A beam blossoms on your lips despite your attempts to keep it hidden. “Then I guess I’ll stick around.”

“Good,” Eddie grins.

“Good,” you parrot.

It takes you a second too long to realize he’s leaning in to kiss you. By the time you notice, his eyes are already fluttering shut and the tip of his nose is nearing yours. Your eyes widen. Your breath catches. You lick your lips in anticipation. 

You forget yourself too quickly, though, and your hand falls lazily against the strings of the guitar in your lap. You can feel the funny, distorted sound in your chest. Your heart lurches at the sudden noise, and you flinch back from the boy in front of you.

You sigh a second later, mourning the missed moment. 

Eddie chuckles to himself, cheeks flushed. “Told ya she could sense fear.”

[mononijikayu]

no more sad songs for my broken heart — gojo satoru.

Swallowing back the bitter taste rising in your throat, you steadied yourself and turned your gaze to Satoru, watching him sleep peacefully. The room was hushed, filled only with the soft rustling of fabric and the steady rhythm of his breathing.

"You're the most important to me, Satoru." you whispered, your voice a fragile whisper in the quiet night. The words hung in the air, carrying the weight of a love that defied death itself. "And you always will be."

Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Warning/s: Romance, Friends to Lovers, Heavy Angst, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, An Pining, Emotional Hurt, Depression, Ghost, Trauma, PTSD, Depiction of Funeral, Depiction of Trauma, Mentions of Alcohol, Depiction of Alcoholism, Depiction of Depression, Depiction of Ghost, Depiction of PTSD illusions, Gojo Satoru deserves a Hug™

masterlist

song: no more sad song for my broken heart by k.will

note: the fact that we waited years and years for a sequel to please dont mv and k.will decided to give us a heartbreak on PRIDE MONTH??? but i shouldnt be speaking because i saw that mv and thought holy shit, satoru definitely went through it and held my breath for a whole week until i could write it on my free time. anyway, ill be disappearing again cause exams !!! but i will be back soon ~ i love you all <3

HE NEVER EXPECTED THIS TO END THIS WAY. Gojo Satoru stood silently in front of the floral arrangement, the vibrant colors contrasting starkly with the somberness of the ihai before him. He lowered himself gracefully, bowing deeply in a gesture of respect and remembrance. Carefully, he lit three incense sticks, their thin spirals of smoke curling upwards, filling the air with a calming fragrance. 

The silence, the lonesomeness of the room — he’d never expected it before. If he was being honest, Satoru never liked the quiet. It was hard to be alone in the realm of thoughts that burden him. But there’s nothing he could do about it. No one was here other than the funerary staff. And even then, they were all scattered around this dingy property. 

As he stood up, his gaze fell momentarily on his watch, the cracked glass dial. He doesn’t think he’d ever have it fixed. He wanted to let it be, let it rest at that moment. It was better, a reminder for him about a time that had long been frozen in time. The hands were stuck at 19:42 pm, a constant reminder of a past event he couldn't change. His cerulean blues was intense against the broken clock from the darkness of those round rim frames. 

Everyone else had already come, he supposed. But it was perhaps most poignant that he was going to be the last person here. He was away on missions, as he always has. Yaga–sensei was going to go as early as he could, Shoko would get it done and over with. Nanami was here, judging from the fact that the bread rolls from that corner store all those years ago were here. He sighed, trying to think if Suguru had come here at all. If he had the audacity to bring condolences and grief in hand. But Satoru thinks that all the incense had erased the scent of all his cursed energy. And perhaps that was for the best. 

He looked at the black armband on his arm. Ever since he arrived yesterday, he couldn’t find it in himself to leave. Not even to sleep or to eat. The moment he arrived, he was told that he was the chief mourner. He never expected that to be someone’s final request, not ever. But he supposed that it was just how fate is, with someone like him. A conundrum of irony, one that could not ever be prevented. One that could never truly stop. 

Satoru left the room quietly, his footsteps echoing softly in the empty hallways. You watched him from your hiding spot, leaning against the wall, your heart pounding in your chest. You didn't want to face him, not now, not here. But as fate would have it, Gojo Satoru could not help but notice you as he grabbed his energy drink from the vending machine. You recognized the drink from all those years ago. It was the one you hated — because it was too overly sweet. But you drank it anyway, when Satoru got it for you. 

"Hey!" he called out, his voice filled with a blend of surprise and familiarity. He rushed to your side, his tall frame towering over you, but his presence was somehow comforting.

You tried to compose yourself, managing a weak smile. "Satoru..."

He grinned at you, his usual playful demeanor tinged with genuine warmth. "I haven't seen you in a while. How about we grab a bite to eat?"

You shook your head, your voice barely a whisper. "I'm not hungry."

His grin widened, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Come on, indulge me. It's not every day I get to catch up with an old friend."

You hesitated, torn between the desire to flee and the comfort of his company. But something in his eyes, a blend of understanding and insistence, made you relent.

"Okay," you sighed, a faint smile tugging at your lips. "But just this once."

Gojo's grin softened into a genuine smile, and he gently placed a hand on your shoulder. "Let's go then."

In no time, you and Satoru sat across from each other in the small cafeteria, the ambient chatter echoes between the two of you in the silence of the empty cafeteria. He was intently looking at you as he started making conversation and you listened, nodding along with what he was saying as you ate. He was like this too when you were younger in Jujutsu High and nearly ten years later, he somehow hasn’t changed. You could only smile at that. 

Satoru starts stuffing his face with the already cold tonkatsu. You could only sigh fondly at him, watching him put the rice bowl down and take the miso soup’s bowl in hand and drink the  cold broth. You picked up your chopsticks and, absentmindedly, stuck them upright into your rice meal. Satoru's cerulean eyes widened slightly, and he leaned forward, his tone playful yet chiding.

"Hey, you know you're not supposed to do that, right? It's bad luck. Reminds me of funeral rites."

You snorted, rolling your eyes at his scolding. "Oh, please, Satoru. Don’t tell me what to do." 

“It’s still bad luck, use them properly!”

You smirked, pulling the chopsticks out and resuming your meal properly. "Besides, it's not like the spirits are going to come after me just for this."

Satoru laughed, shaking his head. "You always were stubborn. Some things never change."

You smiled, a hint of nostalgia in your eyes. "You know, Sugu-chan and Nana-chan were always sticklers for the rules. But you? I can’t believe you’re lecturing me about rules.”

He pouts at you. “I can follow rules too! You’re so mean to me, y’know?”

“It’s very rare to see you follow rules, Sato-chan.”

“But you admit that I follow rules?” The glint in his bright eyes was shining at you like a star in the cloudless sky. So clearly. “You do, don’t you?”

You grinned at him mischievously. “Well, at least the ones that suited you."

“Oh don’t patronize me!”

“Well, you asked!”

The two of you continued eating, the conversation flowing easily. You talked about the current state of affairs, your work, and shared memories from your past. The atmosphere was light, filled with genuine warmth. It’s been a long time since you’ve seen him. Not since you left Jujutsu behind and had gotten married abroad. But from what Satoru heard, you returned recently. 

And he wasn’t sure what happened in all that time. But it was good for him, to see you smiling at him again. It was as if time hadn’t moved at all between the two of you. It was as if it was still like yesterday. He could feel his heart tender as you put your matcha mochi on his plate. You smiled at him, even wider than before as you told him to take it and eat it for you. He looked at you, but you just kept nodding. You watched him eat the mochi and make a satisfied groan as he ate it. You laughed, seeing that he hasn’t changed much. 

Satoru leaned back in his chair, a contented look on his face. "You know, it's really good to see you. I missed this. Just talking and being ourselves."

You nodded, feeling a similar sense of contentment. "Yeah, me too. It's nice to just... be, without any of the usual chaos."

Satoru's eyes softened as he looked at you, a rare moment of vulnerability. "You've been through a lot, I imagine. It’s been….a while.”

You shrugged, trying to downplay the weight of his words. "We all have our battles, Satoru. Some just leave more scars than others."

He reached across the table, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. "Well, if you ever need someone in your corner, you know where to find me."

You smiled, squeezing his hand back. "Thanks, Satoru. That means a lot."

The conversation tapered off, and a comfortable silence settled between you and Satoru. Both of you watched the birds outside the window, one bird leaving the other behind, fluttering away into the open sky. The scene was tranquil, a stark contrast to the turbulent lives you both led.

Breaking the silence, you reached for your phone. The chair squeaked softly as you shifted, pulling out an outdated flip phone from your pocket. You handed it to Satoru, causing his eyebrows to rise in curiosity.

"Can you put your number in?" you asked.

Satoru took the flip phone, chuckling softly. "You still have this old thing? Why not upgrade to something more modern?"

You shrugged, a faint smile on your lips. "The new ones overstimulate me. I prefer something simple."

Nodding in understanding, Satoru quickly input his number into your flip phone and handed it back to you. Then, he pulled out his sleek, modern smartphone, offering it to you.

"Alright, fair is fair. Put your number in mine too," he said with a grin.

You took his phone, marveling for a moment at the advanced technology before carefully entering your number. As you handed it back, your fingers brushed lightly against his, a brief but comforting connection.

"Thanks," Satoru said, pocketing his phone. "Now I have no excuse not to stay in touch."

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you. "Exactly. No excuses."

Another comfortable silence fell between you as you both returned to watching the birds outside, feeling a sense of calm and connection. Despite everything, moments like these reminded you that some bonds were unbreakable, no matter the distance or time that passed. Satoru took a sip of his drink once more and looked at your contentment. He hadn’t expected to have met you today, not at a funeral. He wished it was a better time. But he knew, it was better than not having met you again at all.

“Are you good on Thursday?” Satoru asks, breaking the comfortable silence and causing you to turn your gaze back to him.

“For what?” you reply, raising a curious eyebrow.

“To hang out...like the old days?” he says, a hopeful grin spreading across his face.

You ponder for a moment, the idea of reconnecting with him sounding appealing. "What did you have in mind?"

Satoru leans back in his chair, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "I was thinking we could visit that ramen place we used to love. You know, the one with the best miso ramen in town. And maybe after that, we could catch a movie or just walk around the old neighborhood."

A nostalgic smile creeps onto your face as you remember the countless times you’d both gone to that ramen place, laughing and talking for hours. "That sounds nice. I could use a break from everything."

"Great!" he exclaims, his eyes lighting up with excitement. "It's a date, then."

You chuckle, shaking your head. "It's not a date, Satoru."

"Sure, sure," he says, waving his hand dismissively but with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Just two old friends hanging out."

"Exactly," you agree, a warmth spreading through you at the thought of spending time with him. 

“Exactly.” He repeated, with that grin on his face. 

You shake your head. “You always have to have the last word, huh?”

He laughs. “Of course!”

For a moment, Gojo Satoru didn’t feel sad anymore.

In this moment, hearing you laugh, he escapes it all.

He escapes the misery of the world in your warmth.

WHEN YOU LEFT, SATORU WAS SHATTERED. He still remembered the details of that moment, when you told him you were leaving. The unruly pile of clothes lying around the room, the ripped pieces of paper scattered across the floor, and the bedsheet that hadn’t been replaced in days—all of it seemed like a chaotic reflection of his inner turmoil. You stood by the door, suitcase in hand, your expression a mix of sadness and determination.

"I can't stay here anymore, Satoru." you had said, your voice trembling yet resolute. "I need to find my own path, away from all of this….I’m tired.”

Satoru's heart had shattered in that instant. The room had felt colder, emptier, as if the very air was being sucked out of it. The dorm already lost its life. Everything about it was just silent. Nanami’s moved out even before graduation, Shoko’s gone off and taken to medical school. It was only him that’s left. Him and you. He clung to you, for all this time. He would push you to join him on his food trips during missions, even if you weren’t here. 

You and him stayed up watching movies together when he had those rare days off. The emptiness Suguru left behind would never go away, but you filled some tenderness in his life. A tenderness that he had enjoyed.  A tenderness he could not live without. And now you planned to leave him too. Now that he couldn't comprehend a world where you weren't a part of his daily life. The thought of you walking out that door and never coming back was too painful to bear. And he hated how it hurt, it hated how it made him return to that time, when Suguru turned his back to him forever.

Thinking of it now that you both were older, Satoru realizes that all of it must have been hard on you too. You were a year below them, in a team with Haibara and Nanami. You were close to Suguru and Shoko too. And now you lost them too, you were all alone too, left with echoes that Satoru did not know. You were left with ghosts and grief and lonesomeness. 

And he didn’t see that, he didn’t want to. You were close to breaking and he didn’t see it. And choosing your peace, it hurt him. It hurt him beyond words could express. It was a horrible thought for certain. But Satoru thought at the time, that if two miserable people were together, maybe the happiness that could come would be enough to overcome that misery. But he was wrong. He was all too wrong. Misery will never keep people together.

"Please," he had pleaded, his voice breaking. "Don't go. We can figure this out together."

But you had only shaken your head, tears streaming down your face. "I'm sorry, Sato-chan…I know it's going to hurt you. But….I can’t stay here.  I need to do this for myself."

The memory of you closing the door behind you haunted him for days, weeks, even months. He couldn’t stop crying for days after Suguru left. He had tried to fill the void with anything he could—training, missions, even attempting to drown his sorrows in alcohol—but nothing worked. The pain of losing both of you was too much to bear. The apartment became a constant reminder of the life he once had, now reduced to a hollow shell.

Every time he looked at the bed, he remembered the late-night conversations, the laughter, and the warmth of your presence. The ripped pieces of paper were drafts of letters he had tried to write to you, words that never seemed adequate to express the depth of his feelings. The clothes strewn about were remnants of happier times, now just silent witnesses to his grief. Even now, years later, the memory was as vivid as ever, a wound that never truly healed.

As Satoru sat across from you, his mind drifted back to the years following your departure. At first, he didn't want to hear anything about you. The pain was too raw, too immediate. Every mention of your name felt like a knife twisting in his chest. It hurt to know that, just like everyone else, you moved on with your life without him.

He remembered the first time he heard you'd left the country. It was Shoko who told him, her voice gentle as she broke the news. You had found a new passion, something that took you far away from the world you both had known. It was supposed to be a casual conversation, but it left him reeling. The idea of you building a new life, so distant from the memories you had shared, was almost unbearable.

Then came the news that you had married. He remembered the hollow feeling in his chest when he heard. It was as if a part of him had died all over again. Shoko had shown him a picture of you and your spouse, smiling and happy. In a fit of rage and heartbreak, he ripped the picture apart, unable to bear the sight of you with someone else.

Each memory hurt him badly. Nights were the worst, filled with imagined scenarios where you were still with him, where he could reach out and feel your warmth next to him. He would lie awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering what could have been if you had stayed.

Despite his attempts to move on, the memories lingered. Every accomplishment, every smile, every moment of happiness he found was tinged with the bittersweet reminder of what he had lost. The thought of you, happy and loved by someone else, was a constant ache.

Yet, as he looked at you now, he couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope. The pain was still there, but so was the undeniable bond you shared. It was as if no time had passed, and in this small café, surrounded by the remnants of your shared past, he found a small measure of peace. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance to rebuild what had been lost.

You and Satoru began meeting up more often than ever. Each encounter breathed new life into the corners of his world that had long been shadowed by loneliness and regret. For the first time in a long while, besides the joy he found in teaching his students, Satoru felt a genuine happiness blooming within him, one that he had almost forgotten could exist.

Your meet-ups started simply, with visits to quaint cafés where you’d talk over coffee and pastries, reminiscing about old times and sharing stories about your current lives. At times, he brought you along with him when he would see Megumi and Tsumiki. They seemed fond enough of you, and it was a privilege for Satoru to see how tender you are with them. 

You became his daily routine, everything he said revolved around your daily vernacular. Your home cooked meals became his sustenance. He realized too that he smiled more. That he was always in a good mood when you texted him something about your day. He didn’t want this to stop and he knew that you also didn’t want to leave him. Satoru realized that you found solace in each other's presence. The more you met, the more the walls of time and distance crumbled away, leaving only the essence of your bond, untouched and untainted.

At times, Gojo Satoru would come over to your place, bringing groceries or a bottle of sake. These evenings were filled with laughter, shared meals, and a sense of comfort that was rare in his life. It was one of those days to be together again. As you both sat on the porch, the sky painted in hues of twilight, you revealed something you had been holding back. Satoru already knew you were married, but you didn’t know that. But he just listened, when you talked all about it. He just let you lift the weight of your chest. He just let you give yourself to him little by little.

“I’m divorced.” you said quietly, your eyes fixed on the horizon. “It happened a while ago.”

Satoru’s heart skipped a beat. He turned to you, his expression a mix of surprise and concern. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

You shrugged, a bittersweet smile playing on your lips. “I didn’t know how. It’s not something I talk about easily. But I thought you should know.”

He reached out, gently taking your hand in his. “I’m sorry you went through that. But thank you for telling me.”

As the weeks turned into months, Satoru realized something profound. He loved you. It was a love that had never truly faded, only hidden beneath layers of time and circumstance. Each moment spent with you reaffirmed this truth. And each moment, he was even more terrified. Terrified of telling you the truth. Terrified of letting you see the pits of him that he doesn’t like. 

The monster that lingers in the strongest, he does not want you to see that. The danger that comes with the world that he dwells in, the world you’d long abandoned. You laughed together, drank together, and enjoyed each other's company in a way that felt both new and comfortingly familiar. The nights, like tonight, continued to be joyous evenings filled with stories and laughter. 

You looked at him, your eyes reflecting the soft glow of the lamp. “I’m glad we’re doing this,” you said softly.

“Me too, y’know?” he replied, his voice filled with sincerity. “I’ve missed you. More than I can say.”

Your fingers brushed against his, “I always thought about you, all those years.”

His cerulean blue tenderly met your own orbs. “I always thought about you too."

“Do you mean it?” You responded in a whisper.

“Why would I lie to you, after all this time?”

After a delightful meal shared on your porch, you found yourselves enjoying dessert. You had bought some sweets to bring over. You didn’t like sweets all that much, but you always thought about enjoying them with Satoru. Because it made him happy. And when he was happy, you were too. You could feel the night air breezing in consistent cool kisses, and the distant sound of cicadas filled the silence between your laughter and conversation. You picked up a piece of the dessert, holding it out to Satoru with a playful grin. You supposed you had drunk much already.

“Here, try this. It’s delicious, Sato-chan.” you said, your eyes sparkling with amusement.

He leaned forward, his eyes locked on yours as he took the bite. “Mmm, you’re right. It’s amazing.”

Before you could pull your hand away, he took a piece and held it out to you. “Your turn.”

You hesitated, feeling a sudden rush of warmth to your cheeks. “Satoru, I can feed myself, you know?” you laughed nervously.

“Come on, indulge me, sweets!” he teased, his tone light but his eyes serious.

You opened your mouth, letting him feed you. The intimacy of the gesture made your heart race, and you quickly looked away, trying to hide your flustered expression. Satoru chuckled, clearly pleased with himself.

As the evening wore on, Satoru, a notorious lightweight when it came to drinking, began to feel the effects of the sake you’d shared. He leaned back, his eyelids drooping. “I think I’m going to pass out, sweets.” he mumbled, a sleepy smile on his face.

“Then go and sleep.”

“Hm….night.”

‘.....G’d night.”

You watched as his eyes closed, his breathing evening out. For a long moment, you stared at him, your heart aching with unspoken feelings. You had always been in love with him, but you knew deep down that you could never compete with Suguru. That bond, that history, was something you could never touch.

Unbeknownst to you, Satoru was not entirely asleep. He was keenly aware of his feelings for you, feelings that had grown stronger with each passing day. But rather than confront them, he chose to feign sleep, his mind whirling with thoughts he wasn’t ready to address. Not just yet. Not when it was too hard to face the truth.

You reached out, your hand trembling slightly as you gently brushed a stray lock of hair from Satoru's forehead. Your touch was tender, filled with a longing that transcended the boundaries between this world and the next.

"I... I... I lov..." you began, your voice faltering as if caught between the weight of your emotions and the limits of your spectral form. Frustration and exhaustion etched across your ethereal features, and you brought your hands to your face, overcome by the inability to express what lay heavy on your heart.

Swallowing back the bitter taste rising in your throat, you steadied yourself and turned your gaze to Satoru, watching him sleep peacefully. The room was hushed, filled only with the soft rustling of fabric and the steady rhythm of his breathing.

"You're the most important to me, Satoru," you whispered, your voice a fragile whisper in the quiet night. The words hung in the air, carrying the weight of a love that defied death itself. "And you always will be."

He heard your words, each one piercing through his heart, but he remained still, his breathing steady. He wasn’t ready to face the complexities of your relationship, the unresolved emotions that lay between you.

As you sat there, watching over him, you wondered if there would ever be a time when you could be honest with each other. For now, you were content to cherish these moments, fleeting as they might be, and hope that someday, the barriers between you would fall away, leaving only the love that had always been there.

A few moments later, you realized Satoru groggily opened his eyes, blinking away the remnants of sleep. He watched you with a mix of concern and amusement as you clumsily attempted to put your shoes on, fumbling with the laces and nearly losing your balance. The room was dim, and the aftereffects of the night’s drinks were evident in your unsteady movements.

“What are you doing?” Satoru asked, his voice laced with confusion and sleepiness.

“I need to go home,” you whispered to him, your voice soft but tinged with a hint of desperation. You hiccuped, the sound breaking the silence of the room. “My dog needs me.”

Satoru sat up, rubbing his eyes and trying to make sense of your words. He reached out to steady you, his touch gentle yet firm. “You’re not going anywhere in this state, sweets.” he said, concern etched across his face. “Let’s get you some water and figure this out.”

But you shook your head, your thoughts already miles away. “No, I have to go. She’s waiting for me. Please, I need to get home.” The urgency in your voice was palpable, and despite his better judgment, Satoru knew there was no stopping you. 

“Alright….Let me take you home.”

“You don’t need to.” You tell him, shaking your head. “You…don’t you have a mission tomorrow?”

“It’s fine.” Satoru insisted to you. “Don’t worry.”

Walking through the train tunnel, the air was thick with the musty scent of concrete and dampness, punctuated by the distant echo of footsteps reverberating off the tunnel walls. The dim, flickering lights cast long, eerie shadows that danced around you and Satoru as you stumbled forward, your movements unsteady and guided more by instinct than clarity.

You were particularly drunk, your senses dulled and your thoughts muddled. Every step felt like a small victory as you navigated the uneven ground and avoided stumbling over the occasional debris littering the tunnel floor. Beside you, Satoru walked with a surprising steadiness, his normally calm demeanor now tinged with a quiet concern. His eyes darted around, scanning the surroundings with a vigilance that contrasted sharply with your intoxicated haze.

The tunnel seemed to stretch on endlessly, the occasional flickering light offering brief glimpses of the graffiti-covered walls and rusted tracks that lay beyond. The sound of your footsteps echoed loudly in the confined space, creating an unsettling symphony with the distant sounds of passing trains and the occasional drip of water from above.

“Be careful now.” he cautioned, glancing at you as you stumbled slightly. His tone was light, but the concern in his eyes was evident.

You turned to him, your heart pounding in your chest. “Satoru,” you began, your voice wavering. “There’s something I’ve never been able to tell you.”

He stopped walking, turning to face you fully. “What is it?” he asked, his expression curious and a little concerned.

You looked at him, your eyes almost broken, the weight of unspoken emotions heavy on your shoulders. “Can I… can I hug you? Just once?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “Can you turn off Infinity around me? Just for a moment?”

Satoru’s eyes softened, and he took a step closer. “My Infinity is always down with you,” he said quietly, his voice filled with a gentle sincerity.

Without another word, you stepped forward and embraced him, wrapping your arms around his waist. The warmth of his body against yours was both comforting and overwhelming. Satoru stood still, his arms at his sides, too shocked to respond immediately.

For a moment, you held him tightly, your face buried in his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “I’ve always loved you, Satoru.” you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “I wished….I wished I told you, before I left. Maybe……maybe it would have saved me a decade of pain. Of heartbreak.”

His body tensed slightly, and you could feel his breath hitch. Slowly, as if coming out of a trance, his arms began to lift. Tentatively, he placed them around you, his embrace becoming firmer as the reality of your confession sank in.

You stood there in the train tunnel, holding onto each other as if the world around you had ceased to exist. The distant echoes and the cold air were forgotten, replaced by the warmth of the moment and the raw, unfiltered emotions that had finally been laid bare.

Satoru pulled back slightly, just enough to look down at you. His eyes were filled with a mix of shock, confusion, and something else—something deeper. “Why now?” he asked, his voice barely audible, as if he was afraid that speaking too loudly would shatter the fragile moment.

You looked up at him, your eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Because I couldn’t hold it in any longer,” you replied, your voice trembling. “Because I need you to know, even if it changes nothing.”

For a long moment, he said nothing, his gaze searching your face. Then, slowly, he leaned down and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead. “Thank you.” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “For telling me.”

“I know we can’t be together.” You ramble to him, tears falling all over your face. “I wish we could have had more time. I wish….”

“We will have more time.” He tells you in a mumble. “We have all the time in the world.”

“We don’t.” You whispered to him, looking into his eyes with your own tear stained face. “We don’t.”

In that moment, he could see it in your eyes.

You were telling him the truth, the whole of it.

As the sound of the train echoed through the tunnel,

You burst into tears as those words echoed in his head.

“I’m sorry, Satoru.” You whispered. “I’m going to hurt you.”

YOU CHOSE THE PICTURE YOURSELF.  You looked at him, a sad smile playing on your lips, a bittersweet expression that conveyed both regret and acceptance. Your gaze was gentle yet haunting, and he couldn't tear his eyes away from the photograph he held in his trembling hands — a portrait of you, captured in a moment of serene beauty that seemed to transcend the confines of the photograph itself.

As he stared at your image, framed by the soft glow of candlelight, he felt a pang of disbelief and sorrow grip his heart. How could someone so vibrant, so full of life, now be reduced to this still, silent image before him? The photograph seemed to capture not just your physical likeness, but also the essence of your spirit — a spirit that had once danced with such vitality and now lingered only in memories.

He remembered that day in the tunnel, your words echoing in his mind like a haunting refrain. You had warned him, confessed your impending departure with a sorrow that mirrored his own. In that moment, he had felt a deep ache, a foreboding sense of loss that now seemed inevitable and crushing.

Now, holding your funeral photo, he felt as if he were suspended in that tunnel once more, caught between the reality of your absence and the vividness of your memory. You had prepared for this moment, for your departure from his life, long before fate had delivered its cruel blow. The photo captured a version of you that he knew was only a fraction of the person he had loved — a mere reflection of the complexities and contradictions that made you who you were.

He shook his head, trying to dispel the illusion of your ghostly presence that seemed to linger in the room. This spectral image, so painfully beautiful, could never truly encapsulate the vibrant soul he had cherished. Everything that defined you now rested in the small urn before him, the echoes of the fleeting nature of life itself. He had promised to protect you, to hold you close, but now all he could do was hold onto your memory, etched into his heart with a sorrow that would never fade.

Gojo Satoru sat in silence, the photo trembling in his hands. He couldn't bring himself to look away from your serene face, captured forever in that moment of calm. The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows around the room, creating an atmosphere that felt both intimate and surreal.

"You told me……" Satoru finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, "that you were going to hurt me. But I never thought it would end like this."

Your ghostly presence seemed to shimmer faintly in the dim light, a wistful echo of the person he had loved so deeply. Your eyes, even in the photo, held a depth of sadness that mirrored his own

"I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice carrying a weight of regret that pierced through the silence. "I never wanted this for us."

He looked up at you, tears welling in his eyes. "I should have done everything." he said, his voice breaking with emotion. "I should have done something."

You shook your head gently, a gesture that seemed to encompass both forgiveness and understanding. "It wasn't your fault," you reassured him softly. "We couldn't change what was meant to be."

"But I miss you, my love." Satoru confessed, his voice choking with grief. "Every day feels like a struggle without you."

Your ghostly form seemed to draw closer, as if reaching out to comfort him. "I know, I know…." you murmured, your presence a fleeting warmth in the cold emptiness of the room. "I miss you too."

He reached out a trembling hand towards where your image lay, desperate for some tangible connection to the love that had defined his world. "Why did you have to leave me?" he asked, his voice filled with anguish. “Why now when we had everything?”

You looked at him with infinite sadness, your ethereal presence flickering faintly. "I didn't want to," you replied, your voice barely audible. "But my time was up. Some things... we can't control it."

He closed his cerulean eyes, tears streaming down his cheeks. The ache in his chest felt unbearable, a gaping void that no amount of time could ever heal. "I wish I could have saved you, my love." he whispered, his words a desperate plea to the universe. “I wished I….”

In the silence that followed, your ghostly form seemed to fade gradually, leaving behind only the faint echo of your presence. "You gave me everything I ever wanted." you whispered softly, your voice drifting like a gentle breeze. "And I will always be with you, in every memory, in every heartbeat."

He closed his cerulean eyes, tears streaming down his cheeks like silent rivers of grief. The ache in his chest felt unbearable, a gaping void that no amount of time could ever hope to heal. "I don't want anything else, my love," he whispered brokenly, his words a desperate plea to the universe. "I just want you. I need you."

His voice faltered, choked by sorrow too deep for words. In the deafening silence that followed, your ghostly form seemed to fade gradually, leaving behind only the faint echo of your presence. The room feels emptier without you, devoid of the warmth and light that had once filled his life.

"I know." You choked as you tried not to falter. Not when he needed your smile more than your tears. "I know."

"I wished we had more time.....so I could have....." You shook your head at him.

"You gave me everything I ever wanted," your voice echoed softly, ethereal and distant like a whisper carried in the wind. "And I have no regrets. Neither should you, Satoru. Hm?"

He clutched the photograph to his chest, feeling the weight of your absence press against him like a physical force. The candle flickered, casting fleeting shadows on the walls as if dancing to the rhythm of his heartache. Memories flooded his mind — moments shared, laughter exchanged, dreams woven together — now a tapestry of what-ifs and regrets.

"I don't know how to go on without you, my love." he admitted quietly, his voice trembling with raw emotion. "Everything reminds me of you. What is life without who makes life have sense?"

"You are stronger than you know, you always were." your voice whispered gently, a soothing melody in the midst of his storm. He could feel you touch his cheek. He leans against the ghostly weight, wishing he could feel your warmth in his. "You'll always get by, Satoru. You always will. You're the best I know, after all."

"Because I'm the strongest?"

You smiled, softly shaking your head again. "Because you love too well."

He opened his pale blue eyes, searching for a glimpse of you in the shadows, in the flickering candlelight. Though your physical presence had slipped away, he could still feel your love wrapping around him like a fragile cocoon. It was a love that had weathered storms, endured trials, and now lingered as fragile hope in his shattered heart.

"I love you, my love." he whispered into the stillness, his words a solemn vow to carry your memory forward. "Always."

As he sat there, cradling the photograph that held your smile frozen in time, he knew that while he had lost you in body, your spirit would forever remain intertwined with his own. And in the quiet moments of solitude, he would find solace in the memories of a love that had transcended mortality itself. 

He knew that time would be the bridge between now and when he would see you again. Even in his deepest despair, the thought of reuniting with you brought a bittersweet comfort. Yet, he also knew that to join you prematurely would betray the promise he had made to you in those final moments — to live a life worthy of your love, to carry on and make a difference.

The scent of incense filled the room, a solemn reminder of the rituals and prayers offered for your departed soul. Satoru let out a long exhale, his lips pursed into a determined line. He would fulfill his promises, no matter how difficult or daunting the path ahead seemed.

"I'll change the Jujutsu society," he vowed quietly to himself, the words carrying a weight of determination. "I'll guide the next generation, help them grow strong and wise."

As a sad melody filled the air, a song that once brought joy and laughter to both of you, he closed his eyes and allowed the memories to wash over him. You had loved to dance to this song, your laughter echoing in his ears as you twirled around the room together. It was a memory etched in his heart, a fragment of a life he cherished and longed to live again.

"I'll do everything you believed I could," he whispered softly, his voice tinged with both sadness and resolve. "And then, I'll find you again."

In the solitude of that moment, amidst the flickering candlelight and the haunting melody, he made a silent promise to himself and to you. He would continue to carry your love in his heart, through every trial and triumph, knowing that one day, their souls would reunite in a dance again.

And so Gojo Satoru waits as he lay on that cold operating table.

Those sad sing along songs repeated in his head over and over.

But as he lay there, all that he could think to do was smile at pain.

He was going to meet you soon, he thinks to himself in such peace.

Then, there would be no more sad songs for his broken heart to hear.

some facts about the fic

in the first part, satoru is struggling through his grief for you to the point that he is suffering traumatic illusions that you were there, eating with him. in that whole scene, satoru was actually alone and he's repressing that for the vision of being together, eating.

when you were eating, the chopsticks  were stuck upright. this should not be the case especially rice. chopsticks are only stuck upright into rice in the bowl on the altar at a funeral or when paying respects to the deceased. this is called hotokebashi.

in the funerary flower arrangement, there's something called an ihai. an ihai is a placard that people used to designate the seat of a deity or past ancestor as well as to enclose it. the name of the deity or the past ancestor is usually inscribed onto the tablet.

an ihai is usually used in the funerary rights and then afterwards, put in a butsudan which is often an ornate platform or simply a wooden cabinet sometimes crafted with doors that enclose it. families often put their ihai into their butsudan at home.

since i thought that in this story, you don't have parents - i like to think that satoru put your ihai in the butsudan in his house, so that you could be there with him always.

your ashes in the story are with satoru. but i like to believe he already had a spot reserved for him as clan leader in the future - so he buried you beside his future spot so he just made sure both of you are together in the afterlife too.

the watch belonged to haibara and his parents gave you and nanami something of his to keep. you kept the watch he wore during the mission and kept using it all your life. it stopped working when you died.

the time in the story was 19:42. in japanese superstition,

in the first part, satoru is struggling through his grief for you to the point that he is suffering traumatic illusions that you were there, eating with him. in that whole scene, satoru was actually alone and he's repressing that for the vision of being together, eating.

when you were eating, the chopsticks  were stuck upright. this should not be the case especially rice. chopsticks are only stuck upright into rice in the bowl on the altar at a funeral or when paying respects to the deceased. this is called hotokebashi.

in the funerary flower arrangement, there's something called an ihai. an ihai is a placard that people used to designate the seat of a deity or past ancestor as well as to enclose it. the name of the deity or the past ancestor is usually inscribed onto the tablet.

an ihai is usually used in the funerary rights and then afterwards, put in a butsudan which is often an ornate platform or simply a wooden cabinet sometimes crafted with doors that enclose it. families often put their ihai into their butsudan at home.

since i thought that in this story, you don't have parents - i like to think that satoru put your ihai in the butsudan in his house, so that you could be there with him always.

your ashes in the story are with satoru. but i like to believe he already had a spot reserved for him as clan leader in the future - so he buried you beside his future spot so he just made sure both of you are together in the afterlife too.

the watch belonged to haibara and his parents gave you and nanami something of his to keep. you kept the watch he wore during the mission and kept using it all your life. it stopped working when you died.

the time in the story was 19:42. in japanese superstition, you have to switch it to have meaning. 42-19, together sounds like shini iku (死に行く – to go and die).

your story ex-spouse and you divorced because they found out that you were a jujutsu sorcerer - after you saved them from a cursed spirit that was about to kill them.

you found out that you were very ill a month after you met satoru again and were given a year or two to live, with medication. its a rare disease, so there was only maintenance medication.

originally, i thought to write that you die from a mission after returning to jujutsu to be with satoru. but i realized that it's just not gonna hit as hard. so i changed my mind and got to this ending.

i also thought that you dying in this story because of cursed spirits was going to rile satoru up against the higher ups. but i felt like the fact that you left him because you were traumatized too, and needed a room enough to breathe was enough for him to be angry. if you hadn't left, you and satoru would have had a life together and you wouldn't have been ripped away from him by fate so quickly.

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[cottonlemonade]

Haunted House

word count: 883 || avg. reading time: 3 mins.

pairing: Sakusa x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff, established relationship

warnings: none

request: watching Nightmare Before Christmas with some caramel popcorn dressed as a witch with Sakusa || fluffy, going to a Haunted House with boyfriend Sakusa

Going to the Halloween Fair was a tradition that no amount of annoyed sighs and fake pleading glances from your boyfriend could derail.

You loved October and marked the occasion in your calendar well in advance.

Under a lot of protest and promises of watching horror movies with him only to pick them apart for their inaccuracies, Sakusa - black mask securely in place - eventually piled into the car with your friends. It wasn‘t as if he didn‘t like them but he liked them a whole lot less when they were loudly singing along to Spooky Scary Skeletons on your way to the fair.

As soon as you made it through the entrance, discussing which you wanted to hit first - the snack stand or seeing if you could persuade Sakusa to rent a couple's costume with you, someone ran towards you and skidded to a halt.

“Y/n! Good that you‘re here! We‘re one person short for the haunted house!“

“Huh!?“ Your eyes widened - during your high school days, you helped out every year with the fair all the way from ticket ripper to face painting. Being a monster in the haunted house was an honor and when you were finally appointed zombie number 4 for the first time, you raced home to call Sakusa with the amazing news.

“I‘m here with someone.“, you frowned apologetically, pulling your boyfriend closer for emphasis. He raised his hand to greet as if necessary.

“Please, we’re desperate! And you don’t have to do it all night. If you could just stall for an hour until the substitute makes it here…”

You met Sakusa’s eyes who tried to read your expression for if you wanted him to play the bad guy and tell you no or if you wanted support. It seemed like the latter.

“One hour isn’t too bad.”, he said in a low tone with a slight shrug, “I’ll just look around what other things we can do and make a list for when you’re done.”

“You sure?”

He nodded.

You got on your tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek and then left with a sad theatrical wave as though taking to the high seas.

Luckily, the costume for your necessary character was very loose to begin with. Playing a classic Japanese ghost, you needed a white flowy dress and a wig of long straight black hair. Minus the wig and unappetizing makeup though, the dress was a lot more fitted on your much chubbier figure. You turned in the dirty mirror in the second corridor of the house, thinking this outfit would definitely not be out of place at a summer garden party, but it was the best you could do under the circumstances. You just had to dial up the creepiness. One by one you made people scream in terror and run panicked to the next room. Proudly, you cleared your throat and went to the break room after half an hour for a quick sip of water - wheezing, screeching, and chasing after guests really took a lot out of a person. As you gulped down the soothingly cold drink you spotted your boyfriend amongst your group of friends, clearly having been dragged to join a round at the haunted house and excitement bubbled in your chest. Sakusa was not easily spooked. The closest to scared you had ever seen him was when he spotted a bug sitting menacingly on your living room coffee table during the summer when the screen door was open.

The most terrifying thing for him about this experience would be getting close to people - you chuckled at the thought and an idea formed in your head. You grabbed a little spray bottle with water from the prop pile on the table and returned to your post.

Most of your friends didn’t recognize you while you made them run for the hills. Your best friend went “hi Y/n”, gave you a high five, and moved on. Before she left she informed you that Sakusa was not far behind.

You pressed yourself with hunched shoulders into the blind spot close to the entering door and waited.

You heard the next guest enter and when he passed you in the half-darkness you identified the black curls and broad tall frame in an instant. The giddiness almost made you dizzy. Sakusa stood still for a moment, most likely letting his eyes adjust before pushing forward. In those precious few seconds, you snuck up behind him and, just like earlier, stood on your tiptoes, bringing your lips close to his ear, spray bottle raised. Channeling all your acting skills you imitated a loud wet sneeze, spritzing a bit of water on his neck at the same time.

If you’d had to guess, you wouldn’t have said that Sakusa’s screams would be this high-pitched. Nor that he jumped so high into the air that he knocked down a plastic spider with his head.

All professionalism left your body and you doubled over, wheezing with laughter. Your boyfriend clutched his chest and breathed heavily on the opposite wall. “Oh you think this is funny?”, he pressed out, making you only snort and cackle even more. “Just you wait!” You yelped in delight as he chased you down the corridor for his revenge.

art: @oknbird on Twitter

a/n: request for @liquidcatt

Thank you so much for the request! This was so much fun to write 🌟 I hope you enjoyed it! 🫶🏻

[lunajay33]

Taste for Older Men Part.2

•⚰️🍂🍑•

Summary: Growing up with you never had much interest in boys your age but when your dads best friends stuck around more everything changed

Pairing: Cowboy Negan x f!reader

Warnings: age gap, evil boyfriend

Part.1

•Masterlist•

It’s been a week since everything happened, my parents have been extremely over supportive always, when I’d come down for breakfast they’d have wide smiles and cheery voices but I couldn’t hate them for it they’re just trying to make me feel better even though I was already happier than I’ve ever been in my life

I still work everyday at Negans farm but my parents still don’t know that we’re together and we’re not quite sure how to tell them, I mean he’s my dads best friend and I don’t want to ruin that but I also can’t give up Negan he’s all I’ve ever wanted so there’s got to be a way

I was in the barn pitch forking up some loose hay when I feel Negans arms wrap around my waist

“You know if I was gonna get more help around here I’d have told you my feelings way earlier” I laugh as I lean back into his chest

“Watch yourself lil lady I’m still your boss remember”

“Oh I remember” he spins me in his arms resting my hands on his shoulders

“So how do we tell my parents I don’t want to sneak around I want to be able to be with you when we’re around other people”

“I know sunshine, old man invited me over tonight to watch football might tell him then, and you can talk to your mother” I feel nervous about this but it needs to be done

“Hopefully they don’t rip my head off”

“If they’re going that route it’ll be me they rip apart” me smiles as he leans down to kiss me his grey speckled beard scratching against my face but it was something I craved when he wasn’t around

“Come on let’s finish up our chores before you get carried away like last time” I laugh as he groans

I got home early as Negan let me off to get ready for tonight and go through everything I want to say to my mom, he wanted that time too he had more to worry about but my father is an understanding man I just home he can understand this too

I stripped off my dirty work clothes and hoped in the shower, relaxing as the dirt and sweat from the day washed away down the drain, after I was all squeaky clean I got dressed in a casual pair of black leggings and a red long sleeve shirt, putting two braids in my hair then waiting on my bed anxiously

After another hour I picked up my phone and dialed Negan, after two rings I hear his voice and everything seemed to not be as stressful

“Hey baby ya alright?”

“Yeah I’m better now, just nervous”

“Don’t stress honey I’m on my way over now, we’ll get this settled” he said with a calming tone

“Okay I’ll see you soon”

We hung up and I made my way downstairs sitting at the kitchen island waiting to hear the rumble of his truck, soon the headlights shine through the window and he’s knocking at the door

I want to rush to the door and through my arms around him but contain myself and let my dad answer, Negans technically his guest anyways

“Negan! You excited for the game buddy?” My dad asked cheerfully as he patted him on the shoulder

“You bet, I meet you in the lounge soon I’ll go say hi to your wife and y/n!”

“Always with the southern hospitality!”

Negan rounded the corner and came into the kitchen where me and my mother sat I couldn’t help the huge smile that stretched my cheeks

“Negan so wonderful to see you again, last time was a bit crazy” I looked down a little embarrassed by that whole fiasco

“Lovely to see you too, and of course my dear little farm hand” he said brushing his hand down my back out of my mothers gaze making my skin chill

“Oh Negan she’s still behaving well isn’t she?”

“Mother of course I am”

“Don’t worry she’s always a great help, got myself a lil working lady”

I look up at him with so much joy and admiration before my mother clear her throat and snaps us out of our moment

“Well here’s two beers, better get in there before he makes a big deal about us stealing you away again” she laughed handing over the beers and began left the room

I look back at my mother who had a knowing look on her face, raised eyebrow with a slight smirk

“What?”

“I’m not stupid sweetie, I’ve seen the way you looked at him since he started coming around, only recently he’s been giving you the same look soooooo you have something to tell me dear”

“Don’t be mad, what I feel for him is real, how he treats me really show how badly Mike treated me and how much Negan treats me like a goddess, he’s a good man”

“I’m not mad, I’m glad you found a man who can treat you the way you deserve, hopefully your father will look at it the same way”

I down now we wait to either hear a fight or Negan comes out smiling

“WHAT?” I hear from the lounge, oh no

I rush into the lounge seeing my dad up in Negans face and he looked more betrayed than angry

“Dad, calm down it’s okay”

“How is this okay my best friend with my daughter”

“I love her f/n” he went silent and so did I this was the first time Negans declared his love

“You love me?” I ask as I step closer

“Of course I do, you’re a wonderful woman every moment with you I feel more happier and at ease than I’ve ever been”

“I love you too Negan” I lean up to wrap my arms around his neck and he held me tight

“F/n, you know Negan and he’ll treat her right compared to that excuse for a boyfriend she had before” my mom said then hearing my dad sigh

“I know it’s just a lot to wrap my head around, when did this happen?”

“The day we had the barbecue, he came and made me feel better about everything that happened and well our feelings just came out”

“I mean me and your mother knew how you felt about Negan it was pretty obvious, I guess I can eventually get use to this”

“My god was it that obvious?” I ask looking up at Negan and he had a sly smirk

“You didn’t make it sneaky when you’d look at me darlin”

Taglist: @azanoni @scorpioempress @fanficwriter5 @elliesr1fle @imimatcha4life @indigosparkle444

[idoodlestuffsometimes]

Story Post 14 (Part 1)

And now for some Clawthorne family drama.

AU MASTER POST

BEGINNING | PREVIOUS | NEXT

[Image ID under the cut]

[IMAGE ID: Two pages of a black and white comic.

PAGE ONE PANEL 1: A distant view of the Owl House. In the foreground, a group of coven scouts lurk in the bushes, led by Lilith. "Scouts, today we bring this wild witch to justice," she tells them. PANEL 2: "The Owl Lady will join a coven." Eda stands in the large, round window on the second floor, looking down at them, ready for their attack. PANEL 3: Lilith points, launching the charge. "Ready yourselves and. Atta-!" PANEL 4: "Aack!" Lilith's battle cry cuts off in a startled shout, even as the scouts charge forward around her. A crow sporting a rotary dial on its chest has flown in from behind her and smacked her in the back of the head. PANEL 5: The crow continues on its way while Lilith watches. "What the--" reads her thought balloon. "That looks like mother's crow phone." PANEL 6: The crow shatters the glass of Eda's window and crash lands with a squawk squarely in a very startled Eda's face. "Wait," Lilith thinks. PANEL 7: "Edalyn, witchlet! How are you?" A voice comes from the crow's open beak. A close-up of Eda's shocked face. "Mom?!" PANEL 8: On Lilith, reacting with exaggerated dismay. "Is Edalyn getting regular calls from mother?!"

PAGE TWO PANEL 1: "Now's sort of a bad time!" Eda shouts. She gestures a spell circle and a vine bowls over Lilith and a scout with a CRACK. "Oh dear," says Gwen through the crow phone, "I didn't catch you in the bath did I?" PANEL 2: "Perfect Little Lily and her goons are paying me a visit!" Eda says through the phone. "The bad kind!" A wide view of the Clawthorne parents' dining room. They're both sitting at the table, Gwen on the phone while Dell watches. He's busying himself casting a spell on a potted plant in front of him. "Again?" asks Gwen. "I wish you two wouldn't fight so much. Maybe you really should just join a coven. It's really not so bad. Even your father finally has now." PANEL 3: Eda's dodges a left hook from a scout. "I'm not going to roll over and let myself be controlled just because Belos so!" she protests angrily. "You and Dad were wild witches for years! Do you really think it's dangerous?!" PANEL 4: "Oh - uh...Well, normally not really, but your curse..." Gwen glances at Dell. In the foreground, Dell is looking away sadly, his face in shadow, his head turned so that we can see the scar over his eye. His hand raised over his plant is scarred and has a tremor. There is a plant coven sigil on his wrist. PANEL 5: A close-up of Eda, scowling. "Never mind, don't answer that. If you're calling about another 'cure,' I'm hanging up." "Wait," cries Gwen, "don't!" /END ID]

[dante2045]

Becoming Spiderman

The sirens screeched through the streets of New York City, echoing through the night. Mary Jane Watson looked from the window of her high rise apartment at the flashing lights below, biting her nails to help soothe her nerves.

It had been two weeks since Peter had disappeared in the middle of the night. Mary Jane had awoken to find her boyfriend hastily packing a bag, saying he (and more importantly, his alter ego Spider-Man) were needed for an emergency situation. Mary Jane had tried pressing him for details, but Peter remained frustratingly vague as he slipped into his Spider-Man costume. He had promised to be in touch as soon as he could, hoping it wouldn't be a long trip. With a quick parting kiss, Peter leapt from their apartment window and swung off into the night.

Two weeks with no sign of Spider-Man had resulted in all out chaos. As soon as the criminals realized New York's friendly neighborhood Spider-Man was on holiday, they had decided to seize the moment. The police didn't have the resources to keep up with all of the bank robberies, looting and other petty crimes that had been plaguing the city for weeks. And when Spider-Man's greatest foes realized they had free reign, things really started to escalate. Mary Jane watched the news report on her television detailing Sandman's attack on Times Square mere moments ago, the latest in a string of supervillain schemes.

For what felt like the millionth time that day, Mary Jane dialed Peter's number. As she had predicted, it went straight to voicemail without even ringing. Wherever Peter was, it appeared to be way off grid and she had no way of reaching him or knowing when he would return. Mary Jane was terrified of what another few days without Spider-Man would do to New York; god forbid if he remained AWOL for another few weeks. As much as she didn't want to admit it, she knew it was time to enact their emergency protocol.

Mary Jane hurried to the bedroom, pulling open the closet door. She slid her hand along the back closet wall until she felt the hidden switch, pushing down on it. She took a step back as the closet wall swung open, revealing the hidden compartment behind it. It didn't take her long to find the black briefcase among Peter's emergency stash of Spider-Man gear. She pulled the briefcase out and set it on their bed; a warning in bold capital letters reading 'OPEN IN EMERGENCY SITUATION ONLY'.

Mary Jane clicked open the case, revealing the contents inside. Along with a Spider-Man suit, there was a small syringe filled with a neon green liquid. Mary Jane took off her civilian clothes to put on the Spider-Man suit. It was not designed to fit her curvy body and she struggled to pull the skintight suit over her breasts, but eventually she succeeded. She took a look at her reflection in the mirror; seeing as the suit had been designed for Peter's specifications, it fit her surprisingly well.

She eyed the syringe warily as she picked it up. It wasn't that Mary Jane didn't trust Peter's scientific formula; she was sure the injection would work just as he had designed. And it had been her suggestion that they needed a contingency plan if Spider-Man was ever unavailable to meet the needs of their city, after all. With gritted teeth, she slid the needle into her wrist and pushed down on the plunger, feeling a sharp sting as the formula was injected into her.

Mary Jane anxiously paced her small apartment, waiting for the serum to take effect. It wasn't long until she has hit with a sudden wave of dizziness, nearly stumbling to the floor as she reached out for the wall as support. She knew it was starting.

Mary Jane's calves burned as they stretched out, lengthening while also bulking up with lean but defined muscle. Her thighs also widened with mass and strength, the suit's skintight material hugging her muscular quads. She let out a gasp as her wide hips narrowed, her round butt deflating as it firmed up.

The burning sensation moved up her legs, settling into her crotch. Mary Jane looked down as an unmistakable bulge formed in the groin of her suit, pushing against the material. She reached down and grasped her new manhood, trying to readjust the member to a more comfortable position. Peter would often complain about his suit being too tight in the crotch, and she could now fully emphasize with his plight. She let out another grunt, this one slightly deeper than the previous one, as her ball sack emerged. She gently cupped her balls through the suit, moaning as they pumped testosterone throughout her body. Her dick was beginning to swell, hardening from her state of arousal.

Mary Jane was still exploring her new genitals as the transformation continued upwards. Her slim, tight stomach hardened into a defined six pack of abs. The suit's material pressed down on her breasts, crushing them downwards as they sunk into her chest. Her former breasts were reshaped into a pair of muscled pectorals, her hardened nipples visible through the fabric.

The changes were coming fast and hard now; Mary Jane knew she was nearing the end. Her shoulders broadened while her arms thickened with muscle, growing to be twice their previous proportions.

Her fiery red hair darkened to brown, shortening and styling into a masculine hairstyle. Her round face squared out as her jawline hardened, a thin layer up stubble sprouting up along her chin. Her soft facial features gradually shifted, her warm bright eyes darkening while her eyebrows thickened and plump lips thinned out.

With an overwhelming sense of nausea, Mary Jane stumbled into the apartment bathroom to look at her reflection. She saw her boyfriend Peter looking back at her.

"Wow. It actually worked," Mary Jane marveled, shaking her head in disbelief.

The nauseous feeling continued to grow as the room started to spin, Mary Jane tightly gripping onto the vanity for support. Dark spots blinked across her vision, and she struggled to keep her eyes open. The blackness crept in, and Mary Jane knew she was going to black out...

--------------------------------------------------

Peter opened his eyes, startled from his slumber by the sounds of a police siren. He jumped up off the floor, arms at the ready for any sign of a threat. After his senses had settled, he realized he was in his apartment's bathroom and allowed himself to relax. How had he ended up here? Last thing he remembered, he was...wait, why didn't he remember anything?

"MJ? Are you here?" Peter called out. He did a quick scan of the living room and kitchen before checking in the bedroom. His eyes widened as he recognized the case on the bed, picking up the empty syringe from where it'd been dropped. That explained the memory loss, Peter thought somberly.

"Damn it, MJ," Peter cursed, shaking his head. He had never wanted to agree to this contingency plan, that she should step in as his replacement if he was ever unable to fulfill his role as Spider-Man. She had been stubborn and persuasive, arguing that Spider-Man was more important than either one of them. And she had alieved his fears by assuring it would never likely come to that, anyways.

That was evidently not the case, Peter thought bitterly. He wondered about where the original Peter was and if there would be a way to reverse the process and get Mary Jane back. The thought that he may have lost her for good filled him with an overwhelming panic, but he pushed those thoughts aside. If Mary Jane had taken the serum, things must have been dire, and he had no time to waste.

Peter slid on his mask and pried open the bedroom window. He could see flames burning in the distance, and the sirens sounded like they were coming from every direction. It was time to get to work. He'd save the city, and then he'd find a way to bring his girlfriend back. Either that, or the original Peter would be dating himself whenever he got back from wherever the hell he was.

Spider-Man swung out into the night, ready to save his city.

--------------------------------------------------

Thanks to everyone who has read this! It's my first time attempting fan fiction, combining characters I love with the transformation genre. Would love to have some feedback on what you thought of this and if you would want to read similar stories in the future or prefer entirely original characters?

[celebtf]

THE NEW JACKET...

Zayn Malik paced his living room, frustration grew at him. The once adoring fans seemed distant now, his music flopping on the charts, his tour dates barely selling out. The spotlight that once shone so brightly on him now cast shadows, and Zayn knew he needed to make a drastic change.

Late one night, as he scrolled through the dark corners of the web, he stumbled upon something —a tale of a stone that could transform anything or anyone into whatever the possessor desired. It was rumored to be a relic of ancient power, hidden away in the black market. Desperation and curiosity gripped Zayn, and soon, the whispers of the stone became his obsession.

The transaction was swift. The stone was delivered to him in a small, unassuming box, with only a note: *Use with caution.* Zayn’s hands trembled as he held the stone, feeling a surge of power unlike anything he had ever known. A plan began to form in his mind.

Niall Horan, his former bandmate, was at the peak of his career, his latest tour a massive success. The old jealousy that was between them flared up, feeding Zayn’s desperation. He picked up his phone and dialed Niall's number.

“Hey, mate!” Zayn forced a lightness into his voice. “I heard you’re in town for your show this week. Any chance I could get a ticket? Maybe catch up backstage, like old times?”

Niall, ever the friendly and trusting one, agreed without hesitation. “Of course, Zayn! It’ll be great to see you. I’ll leave a pass for you at the door.”

The day of the concert arrived, and Zayn dressed carefully, concealing the stone in his pocket. The concert was as vibrant as he remembered, Niall’s voice filling the arena with an energy that Zayn hadn’t felt in years. But Zayn wasn’t here to relive memories—Zayn had a mission.

After the show, Niall welcomed him backstage with a grin, the years apart melting away as they embraced. “It’s so good to see you, mate,” Niall said, still buzzing with post-show adrenaline.

“Yeah, you too,” Zayn replied, his fingers brushing against the stone in his pocket. “I’ve missed this.”

As they chatted, Zayn waited for the right moment. When Niall turned his back to grab a drink, Zayn acted. He pulled out the stone, feeling its warmth pulsate in his hand, and whispered the incantation he had memorized. A dark shimmer filled the room, and before Niall could react, the transformation began.

Niall’s body convulsed, his expression a mix of confusion and terror as he felt his limbs stiffen and his skin tighten. The warmth of the stone spread through the air like a force, wrapping around Niall in invisible tendrils. His scream of protest was cut short, his mouth frozen in a silent cry as his form began to shift.

Zayn watched, mesmerized, as Niall’s body shrank and contorted, his flesh turning into sleek, dark leather. His arms fused to his sides, elongating and flattening into sleeves, while his torso compressed and reshaped, becoming the main body of a jacket. Niall’s legs and feet twisted together, merging and thinning into a part of the jacket. His once vibrant eyes dulled, transforming into two small, round buttons on the front of the leather garment.

The process was agonizingly slow, every detail of Niall’s transformation etched into Zayn’s memory. He could feel Niall’s consciousness within the jacket, trapped and terrified, but helpless against the ancient power of the stone. Finally, the last traces of Niall the man were gone, leaving behind only the lifeless, yet somehow sentient, leather jacket.

Zayn picked up the jacket, feeling the soft, supple leather under his fingers. The material was warm, almost as if it still carried the heat of Niall’s body. A dark thrill went through Zayn as he draped the jacket over his arm. It was time for the final step.

He stood before a full-length mirror, the stone still glowing faintly in his hand. With a deep breath, Zayn slipped the jacket on, feeling it tighten around him like a second skin. The leather clung to his form, almost as if it were alive, molding itself perfectly to his body.

As soon as the jacket was in place, Zayn felt the stone’s power surge through him once more. His reflection began to ripple and distort, his own features blurring and shifting. His dark hair lightened, taking on the familiar shade of Niall’s golden blond. His eyes, once dark and brooding, turned a vibrant blue. His cheekbones shifted, his jawline softened, and even his stance began to change, taking on Niall’s relaxed, boyish demeanor.

The transformation was thorough, down to the smallest detail. Zayn’s voice, when he spoke, was no longer his own but a perfect imitation of Niall’s. The way he moved, the way he smiled—all of it was Niall Horan.

Zayn—now Niall—ran his hands over his face, marveling at the perfection of the transformation. He was Niall in every sense of the word, a flawless doppelgänger. A loud laugh escaped his lips, echoing through the empty dressing room.

He did it. He had taken Niall’s life, his career, his identity. The real Niall, now just a leather jacket, lay silently against Zayn’s—his own—skin, powerless and submitting to the new reality. As the days passed, Niall’s consciousness within the jacket gradually shifted from fear and anger to a strange, twisted acceptance. The stone’s dark magic entered into his mind, changed his resistance until he found himself almost enjoying the sensation of being worn by his former friend.

Zayn reveled in his new identity, living the life he had always envied. He performed Niall’s songs, soaked up the adoration of the fans, and basked in the success he had once lost. With every performance, he felt Niall’s presence within the jacket, a constant reminder of his triumph. And the real Niall, now only a jacket, found himself enjoying his role, his thoughts bending to Zayn’s will until all that remained was the satisfaction of being worn by his new master.

Zayn—now Niall—smirked as he stood on stage, feeling the leather jacket—once his rival and friend—wrapped tightly around him. He had won, and the world would never know the difference.