#but what made me sense it? I have no clue
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lacy-oh-lacy · 2 days ago
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i genuinely need you to write something for rio vidal plzzzzzz i’ll take anything but your writing is perfect so id love for you to write something *cough* dominant jealous rio *cough*
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉'𝒔 𝒈𝒓𝒊𝒑
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𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕
𝑨/𝑵: Omg thank you, Anon. You're too sweet 𖹭
𝑪𝑾: Fem!Reader, Dom!Rio, Jealous!Rio, Soft domming, knife play, biting, magical G!P, possessiveness
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Contrary to all common sense, the quickest way to find yourself on Death’s radar was not through an act of death itself. Not by losing your life or taking another's…
No, it was through her girlfriend.
A stranger's lingering gaze or a friend's pda never escaped Rio’s attention, and a repeat offender, like oh say… that coworker of yours you were talking to at that very moment…
Well, they managed to make an enemy out of the force of nature that could usually pride herself on her indiscriminate apathy.
Rio lurked in the shadows outside your workplace, eyes darkening as that fool made you laugh.
She wasn't even two minutes late to pick you up, and already that snake was curling around you. Unbelievable.
You didn't think anything of it, Rio knew, but she could see in that man's eyes every disgusting thought he was having about you.
It made her sick, it made her burn.
Well, if the shades of purple littering your neck didn't clue him in to the fact that you were taken, she was beyond willing to do it herself.
Under the cover of darkness she shifted her attire with a thought, striding over in a new, clean-cut suit that made his own look like ratty hand-me-downs.
You perked up as soon as you noticed her and it made her heart leap. Your bright smile, your appreciative eyes taking in her new look…
He could never make you glow like that.
“Hey, Baby.”
Rio couldn't help a quick smile reserved only for you as she joined you under the streetlight, arm wrapping around your waist. “Hello, my love. Sorry I'm late, work was murder.”
She turned to face your companion, with a cold and withering stare. A look that could take years off a life.
“Who's your friend?”
You could never truly estimate the depths of Rio's jealousy but you knew that look well enough to know you had to get her out of there.
And you knew it well enough to not be surprised by the intensity she brought to the bedroom that night.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
“I missed you today.”
Rio replied in her softest tone, someone less attuned to her might not have even heard the boundless resentment living within it, “You seemed like you were enjoying yourself.”
Leisurely, she traced her knife from your jaw, down your neck, applying a spine-tingling pressure just short of breaking skin.
“Yeah well, that new guy I work with is pretty fun.” You said breathily, not biting. Her blade caught on the collar of your shirt, lingering above your hammering heart, and Rio laughed.
Never before had such stubborn brattiness looked so good on someone, but you were just something else… teasing her even with a knife to your chest…
She cut through the fabric in one rough slash. “Careful, Lover. Wouldn't want to shorten such a fun man's life span, would you?”
“You wouldn't do that.” you challenged
“Try me. I'd do anything to keep you.”
The sincerity of the statement should have frightened you, but it was intoxicating. To be the object of such devotion from Death herself was a head-spinning high that no drug, spell or new lover could match.
“You'll always have me, Rio.”
There was a pain to the look she gave you in return, a wound behind her eyes, but she found a smile for you before she circled behind you.
“I’d better.” She breathed in your ear, pulling the tatters of what used to be your shirt from your body.
The tip of her knife traveled down your spine, barely grazing your skin on a trail to your skirt, which she skillfully cut open, baring you to her completely.
“My pretty girl…”
Her hand smoothed over your ass-cheek with near reverence before disappearing between your legs.
You gasped, skin aflush, but all too soon you realized she wasn't done playing with you yet.
“Please.” You whimpered as her fingers slid across your folds, just short of where you needed them.
“Say my name.”
“Rio, please, I need you so bad.”
She drew a lazy circle on your clit and your breath hitched, “Well how can I say no to that?”
A tingling warmth followed her hand on your back as she pushed you forward, forcing your chest onto your dresser and you into a bend.
You barely noticed the hardness of the surface against your breasts. You couldn't concentrate over the thought of being so exposed to her, and even that died with your last remaining brain cells as you felt the tip of her cock against your entrance.
She could've gone right in, you were wet enough for her to, but she slowly dragged up and down your slick folds, cock head catching on your clit every time and setting your nerves ablaze.
“Rio.” You whined.
“So impatient.” She laughed. “Don't worry, Baby, I'll take care of you.”
With that she pushed through your centre, slowly and gently sinking inside of you, savoring every blissful moan you let out.
She very nearly lost herself as you jerked against her but she resisted the rough thrust you were so clearly asking for. Your pathetic, little mewls, music to her ears.
She bottomed out inside of you, letting you adjust, letting you enjoy being filled. Then quicker than you could process she pulled out and slammed back in.
You cried out, but Rio wasn't slowing down this time, pounding you again and again with deep, unapologetic thrusts.
“You're mine. You hear that? Say it.”
“I'm yours, Rio.” You choked out, voice bouncing with her pistoning hips.
“Yeah, you’re mine. My good girl.”
She leant forward, her breasts flush against your back, as she sank her teeth into your shoulder, leaving behind a delightful sting.
Rio wasn't usually one for quickies but tonight she'd make an exception. There was a desperation inside of her stronger than mere lust. She had to see you cum.
She twisted her arm around your hip so she could work your clit, rubbing in a frenzy. “Tell me you want me.”
“Want you. Need you.”
“Then cum for me Baby, I know you can do it.”
Rio was nothing short of amazing. The concentrated skill on your clit and the near supernatural speed of her thrusts unraveled you like only she could.
Your mouth fell open and your walls clenched around her in a strangling hold as lust threatened to burn you alive.
“God! Rio!”
You came all over her and right on cue she emptied her cock inside of you, filling you to your very core with what felt like neverending ropes of cum, trapped inside of you by her refusal to pull out.
“I'm never gonna let anyone else do this to you, baby.” She breathed out, mouth returning to your shoulder to lick over the bite mark she left. “Never, for all eternity, I'm yours, and you’re mine.”
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phalangemedes · 3 days ago
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hello!! this is true but also the intense and fucked up pressure of being 'gifted kids' absolutely and irrevocably messed them up.
You can be loved and cherished and in a stable environment and still have too much expected of you as a literal child fill of underdeveloped skull jelly. They burdened these bumbling baby pre-teens with the knowledge they were about to be in charge of EVERYTHING they had ever known. Like it was the greatest honour to be bestowed on them. And they believed it BECAUSE THEY WERE KIDS.
Palamedes wasn't just an adroit necromancer he was also SMART, he was clever and caring and dedicated and he was pushed and pushed and pushed to become something so important so young. And he was told it was an accolade, something to be proud of, what he should have always been aiming for. ‘You are the best so be the best’. The only reason he wasn’t an egomaniac ( which isn't to say yer boy doesn't have an ego, he does, it's just because mostly he's been in an environment where he's been RIGHT alot) is because Cam didn’t let him. Their love language is argumentative, it’s why he thought Harrow was ready for tea parties and sleep overs even though she was still on ‘that is definitely a murderer, I can tell. For reasons.’ And it made him self sacrificial for the greater good, against his own good, it made him think not only SHOULD he help but that if he couldn't he was a failure.
Dulci is SUCH a good example of this, because he was A LITTLE TINY BABY and he heard of this woman and he thought his need to fix her was love. That's so sad??? And it obviously became love, because he loves very fully anyone he thinks even vaguely likes him back. But that must have been such a MINEFIELD for Dulcinea?? And she was the first 'adult' who was sweetly kind to him, who treated him like a kid, listened to him and talked to him, expected nothing more than a letter back. She didn’t tell him ‘yes I expect you to make me live’ she said ‘thank you’ when he made things to make her life better, but she never let him get close enough his everything was sucked into being her carer.
And Cam... Cam was a sword fighter on a planet of data analysts. A BIG, STRONG, taciturn girl who was fond of the (inevitable) future Master Warden. And she was never an Alexandrite, so she was never seen as TOP TIER, never trained as a consort, and that would have been expected for him. Her own ego is also… strange. She’s aware of her ability but she doesn’t think she’d good enough, not in a ‘I have weighed myself up against the world and found myself lacking’ way either in a ‘Well it’s okay because at least Sextus has a clue.’ Generally she would have been DROWNED in expectations of what her station was. Either was a 'you have to git gud' or a 'you wont ever be good enough'. I wonder how much of it was why she became his cavalier primary, better to be thought of as unworthy as his cav without the pressure to spread your ‘inferior’ genes right???
Also they are the most fucking neurodivergent little shits in the world?? and whilst their obsessions and dedication past the point of mental and physical wellness were seen as a good sense of duty, it was not, and no adults were telling them 'hey how about you eat and sleep and stuff!!' because it was seen as a virtue to be obsessed.
If you're on planet library and your special interest is Learn Everything you're getting A*'s. If your job is Book Boys Stab Fiend and you're good at stabbing? You will be encouraged past the point of failure to get better at being a Stab Fiend.
And I don't think there's any BETTER way this is expressed than with Paul's birth. That is an act of LOVE and an act of WAR. It's an act of kindness, it isn't a sacrifice of their individuality, it's the best they have. Pal doesn't have long in Babs, Camilla is a kebab without a necro to fix her. And their choice? is to become a demi god surrounded by the family that put them in that position and their enemies. They put them in a situation who's only out was failure. And they said naahh and chose their own failure, together, hand in hand.
It’s the wedding you have in secret when your family hates you and your partner, it’s going to a family function 10 years later wearing your rings with a ‘Oh yeah we got married’ because it was for you but holy fuck you want it to hurt them too.
Smothering is no less or more than neglect, just different.
what drives me insane is that most of the codependent pairs in tlt were set up to develop that kind of relationship in one way or another except for cam and pal. they weren’t the last two children on their planet! they don’t have the excuse of having been raised as a matched pair! they didn’t even keep each other company for ten thousand years! they were two friends growing up in a stable environment among people who cared about them and somehow they still managed to achieve levels of codependency unknown to god by like. age 13
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sonotpattismith · 18 hours ago
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my blues for my brain (megumi fushiguro x reader)
word count: 8.7k inspired by: fate by grey reverend content: angst, fluff, mentions of car accidents, hospitals, invisible string theory, me pretending gojo is still alive for my mental health
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“Please don’t leave me here.”
These words were ones all too familiar to you, in an all too familiar scenario. The difference was, it wasn’t you clinging to life with blood soaked skin. Instead, it was the strange boy that had just raced out of the over-priced cafe that you worked at to make a dime during your summer semesters. 
You could recall the exact, desperate words falling from your own lips as a good samaritan crouched in front of you just a few years back, your fingertips just a hair away from death’s door. In an act that would serve to veer you off any sense of understanding for your purpose in life, that person didn’t leave you to die, despite the chaos that was ensuing around him. When you woke, you had more questions that filled your prayers than thanks. 
Why did you live if others had died the same fate that was allotted to your own life? There was meaning to everything that happened in one’s life— at least that’s what everyone told you when you woke in your hospital bed. What was the meaning of this though? Were you meant to find a new purpose in your life; was this meant to steer you in the right path? If so, why did you end up working a minimum wage job as you scraped up enough money for a college education you still had little to no clue what you wanted to do with yet? 
Up until that day, as the pale stranger’s desperate grip on your hand slowly weakened with his waning consciousness, you were sure you had failed whatever god saved you all those years ago. As the man before you opened his eyes for the briefest of moments to beg for your mercy, you thought meaning had finally found you. 
“You’d think for a café in the middle of one of the busiest streets in Tokyo that there would be a little more excitement in here every once and a while.” Your coworker droned as she stared at the front door, which hadn’t opened in exactly forty-one minutes. Who was counting though? 
You shouldered into her with a half-hearted smile as you made yourself a mid-shift drink. Today’s choice happened to be a matcha latte, though you often switched it up for the sake of having something new to look forward to everyday. Peering back at her and then toward the hustle and bustle just outside the shop, you sighed dejectedly. What meaning did standing behind this counter for hours a day have? Perhaps you should be enjoying the life that was granted back to you so fortunately, you thought as you trailed an absentminded finger down the scar that ran down your arm. 
Snapping from your haze, you offered her the most encouraging smile you could muster in the midst of your perpetual existential crisis. 
“Staring at the door isn’t going to make customers appear.” You scolded, and she peered over at you with a bored glare, to which you chuckled lightly. “Quick, pick a syrup, and we’ll put it in my matcha to see if we’re horrible at our jobs or not.”
At this, an amused smile stretched across her face, and she quickly straightened up to look over the options. As you two bickered over which of you had more abysmal taste than the other, the rare chime of the front door interrupted your concocting session. The both of you snapped up like dogs who just heard their food bowl rattle in the next room. 
Appearing slightly out of breath and frantic, a man stepped into the café. There was a determination in his step as he rushed over to the register and rested his hand atop the counter to lean in with purpose. There were prominent, pink scars lining his face, so large in size and quantity that you wondered what kind of trouble someone seemingly your age could have gotten himself into already. Forgoing your growing curiosity, you mustered up a welcoming smile. 
“Welcome! Can I get—”
“Did you see anything strange passing around here just a second ago?” The two of you spoke at the same time, but he paid no mind to your cut-off question as he stared expectantly at you. 
Your mouth slowly shut, brows furrowing in the process as you tried to recall anything that had happened in the last five minutes, but the only memories that surfaced were you trying to decide between lavender or hazelnut syrup. 
“Maybe we have, but we reserve the right to withhold answers for paying customers, actually.” Your coworker chimed in with a mischievous smile, clearly just desperate for any business on this slower-than-usual day. The raven-haired man sighed indignantly.
“This is serious—”
“So is our no loitering policy.” You had to repress a tickled smile at her persistence. She smiled triumphantly as he grumbled and frantically fished a few spare yen from his pockets and slammed them on the table. 
“A black coffee!” He growled his order at her before returning his attention to you, a scowl set deeply on his already intimidating face. Beside you, your coworker mumbled something in reference to his boring order before working to prepare it. “Now what did you see?”
You almost felt bad after the fact, that you could only pathetically shake your head at his question. 
“I’m sorry, I really haven’t seen anything. What are you looking—”
A frustrated grunt from the disgruntled man cut you off, and before you knew it he was storming out of the café. An amused scoff escaped you as you watched him leave, and your coworker leaned against the counter beside you.
“Just our luck— we ask for entertainment, and we get crazy.” She commented with a shake of her head. “He left his coffee, too.”
This made you tear your gaze from the door to the lidded, brown cup she set down on the counter. His yen were still sat messily before you, and you suddenly felt bad for having coerced him into buying something. Peering out to see him speaking to a few pedestrians just outside the shop, you grasped the cup and exited your post behind the register. 
“Hey!” You called out, ignoring your coworker’s questioning as you poked your head out the door. Sighing when he appeared too preoccupied to notice your calls, you prepared to try one more time as he continued his frantic trek through the bustling city. “You forgot your—”
The blaring sound of a truck’s horn sliced through your attempted good deed of the day, and you could only watch in stone-cold horror as the offending vehicle slammed into your distracted customer. His uniform-clad body jolted across the street with a velocity you had trouble keeping up with. Your eyes wouldn’t allow you to stop following the movements no matter how hard you tried though. The steaming cup in your hands slipped from your trembling fingers before splattering across the ground in tandem with the stranger’s blood across the street. 
Vehicle’s horns were blaring behind the truck that had come to a screeching halt. Behind you, your coworker rushed out, shouting words you couldn’t process in your shell-shocked state. You watched with vast, unblinking eyes as his body finally rolled to a stop, and he twitched out in agony. With unwavering precision, you could swear you knew the exact pain that was coursing through his body at that moment; the fear that must be setting his wounds ablaze. It wasn’t that long ago that it was you, laying in uncertainty, at the mercy of whoever might have felt your life was worthy enough to try saving. 
So, you ripped your arm out of your coworker’s frantic grip, and your legs raced toward the scene. The truck driver was stumbling out of the driver’s seat, a horror-stricken expression etched onto his features as you dropped down to your knees beside the barely conscious man. Blood coated the corners of his lips as he continued to weakly sputter up the substance. 
“Oh my god,” You babbled mindlessly, hands hovering over him as you contemplated what to do. As if reacting to your voice, his head swayed in your direction, but his eyes remained shut. He was pale— dare you say even paler than he was when he walked into your shop just moments ago. “Call an ambulance!” You shouted at the truck driver, who seemed to be too shell-shocked to spring into action himself. Upon hearing your frantic order, he immediately began fumbling with his cellphone. 
Turning your attention back to the stranger, you noted he was now struggling to pry his eyes open, a deep navy color squinting back at you. 
“Can you hear me?” You questioned, fingers twitching with the urge to turn him on his side in an attempt to prevent him choking on his own blood. You didn’t know what was broken though, so you opted to carefully tilt his head toward you. He only stared deliriously up at you as blood began to ooze from the side of his mouth. “Is there someone I can call? 
Megumi’s mind was in a state all too familiar to him though. It clung on the border between life and death, and, in the past, it was a constant struggle of whether or not it was worth fighting to get through. Now though, he was desperately grasping at the straws of his consciousness. It was his first mission by himself after the trauma his mind and body had endured during the Culling Games. After everything he’d gone through, all the battles he’d fought and the mental strife he’d worked through, this couldn’t possibly be how he left this world. A meaningless and pitiful death— is that what he would have to show for when his friends asked what became of him in the end?
“Hey, hey, stay awake, okay?” Megumi was pulled from his wallowing thoughts by the frantic voice above him, and it sounded as though he was under water, though it wouldn’t surprise him if there was blood in his ears as well. His lips parted, but all that left them was a strangled groan. Your fingers, still warm from his black coffee that had just been clutched in your hand, squeezed gently at his cheeks as though to rouse him from sleep. They slipped from his face and fell into his hand, giving his fingers a soft squeeze. “Squeeze my hand if you can hear me.”
Weakly, you felt his trembling fingers grasp back at your hand. You found yourself smiling encouragingly at him, though you doubted he could see it. The sirens of an oncoming ambulance had you looking behind you, and you could see the flashing lights in the distance cutting across the traffic. From your peripheral, you saw your coworker racing out toward you, pushing through the small crowd that had formed. 
“He just— it came out of nowhere. He’s—”
“He’s suspicious as fuck.” She finished for you, concern pooling in her eyes as she grabbed your free hand in an attempt to tug you up. As you stumbled a bit, you felt the stranger’s cold hand grasp at your wrist, turning your attention back to him. “Let’s go, the ambulance is already here. This guy was probably caught up in some seriously shady shit.” 
She was right, and you knew it. It was evident from the grotesque and oddly placed scars that lined his face, the strange uniform he donned, down to the odd questions and abrupt departure he had graced you with before the accident. Still, your memories of meeting the exact same fate kept you empathetically tied to his side as you peered down at him apprehensively. He opened his eyes once again, and it appeared as though he was mustering every last bit of strength he had left. His fingers wrapped around your wrist desperately as his lips parted to plea with you.
“Please don’t leave me.”
It was a cry that was so uncharacteristic of him, but he only knew one thing at the moment. The warmth of your hand and the soothing sound of your voice was the only thing tying him down to the land of the living. Without your grounding, he felt he may slip away, resigned to the fate he had just fought so valiantly to avoid. 
The plea clutched at your heartstrings as the paramedics rushed to the scene. They were bustling around you, asking you questions while simultaneously shouting foreign terminology at each other as they immediately began tending to the situation at hand. Your eyes remained locked on the stranger’s as they slowly drifted shut, and he offered one last desolate squeeze to your hand before darkness seemed to consume him. 
“Ma’am,” The gruff voice of the paramedic beside you pulled you from your trance, and it was then that you noticed the tear that slipped down your cheek. Blinking it away, you looked up at the man, still shell-shocked. “Do you know this man?”
“I…” Your words got caught in your throat as his final plea rang in your ears. Glancing up, you saw your coworker on the other side of the sea of medical personelle, shaking her had at you with wide eyes. In your palm though, the limp, cold hand of the stranger still lay. “He’s my partner.” You lied in a haze, watching as they prepared to carefully shift him onto a stretcher. 
Your lie earned you a ride in the ambulance beside him, staring in an absent haze as the team moved like ants around him, peeling his lids back to check his eyes with a tiny light, cutting his shirt down the middle to check his vitals, prying an oxygen mask over his parted lips and expertly starting an IV on his limp arm despite the rustling of the fast-paced vehicle. They attributed your inability to answer any questions to your shock, which was partially true, but you also feared revealing your white lie to them with the wrong responses. 
Police were awaiting you at the hospital when the ambulance came to a screeching halt.  They questioned you about the accident and what you had seen. You complied easily, however couldn’t help but grow nervous once the staff at the hospital asked you to fill out paperwork on your ‘partner’s’ behalf. 
The pen in your hand shook as you stared down at the first blanks. 
FIRST NAME
LAST NAME
Of which you knew neither. 
“Is everything alright?” The soft voice of a compassionate nurse questioned as she typed away at her computer, likely awaiting your information to complete his admission. 
You looked up at her patient eyes, and you couldn’t hold back your lie any longer, explaining to her what had actually happened. Her slow nod made you feel guilty, as she thanked you for your honesty and explained the paperwork would be different now as they had no way to identify the stranger. He had no identification on him, and the cellphone they’d found in his pocket had shattered in the midst of the accident.
Perhaps you should have gone home after you’d given them all the information they needed, but you stayed in the small waiting room, anxiously bouncing your leg and chewing on your lip. As hours seemed to pass by, you’d perk up each time someone would come in, hoping any of the visitors would be coming to claim the stranger that was currently being tended to in the intensive care unit. They each came and went though, and you remained the only one awaiting him under the fluorescent lights. 
Your eyes were beginning to burn when the nurse you had spoken to hours prior walked carefully up to you, that compassionate smile everpresent on her lips. 
“I know there’s no relation, but I thought you’d like to know his condition is relatively stable as of right now.” She offered, causing you to sit up in the stiff, plastic chair. 
“Thank you— really.” You sighed breathlessly to which she nodded in return. For a moment, you wondered if you were overstepping by asking for anymore details. Casting your eyes down to your lap, you chewed pensively on your lip. She seemed to take note of your bashful apprehension, smiling knowingly. 
“You’re currently the only contact we have for him. There wouldn’t be a problem if you wanted to pay him a visit.”
So, with your fingers wringing nervously at the hem of your shirt, you followed the nurse through the unit and to the room he was occupying. Though you had seen first hand the damage the accident had done to him, you still had to bite back a shocked gasp upon seeing the various monitors he was hooked up to, as well as the clear tube running into his mouth and down his throat. You had endless questions for the god-sent nurse, but she had already mentioned that her shift was ending, so you didn’t want to hold her any longer. 
“He hasn’t woken up yet, but they can still hear you, you know?” She explained with an encouraging smile as she leaned against the doorframe. Tearing your gaze from the various lines and tubes connected to him, you peered back at her in shock, but the nurse only nodded affirmatively at you. “It helps. Especially since he’s by himself.” 
Following her polite goodbye with a promise that she’d be back on shift tomorrow morning, you were left alone with the stranger. It was silent in the sterile room, only the persistent beeping of his monitors filling the space around you. A shiver ran down your spine as if the below normal temperatures of the hospital were finally catching up to you as you shifted your weight from one foot to the other. 
“This would’ve been a lot easier if you had stayed back to drink your stupid, black coffee.” You began hesitantly as you circled the raised bed. Pursing your lips, you slowly sat down on the chair beside him. Toying with the end of the blanket that hung off the bed, the ragged rise and fall of his chest caught your attention, and you wondered how much of it was thanks to the tube running down his throat. “I wonder if you ever found what you were looking for.” 
As an assistant came in to check on him, you peered awkwardly down at your lap while they checked his vitals. Once done with the routine checks, you watched her move the blanket back over him and gently adjust certain chords to settle more comfortably around him. It made your heart warm that they seemed so attentive to his comfort, even if he wasn’t conscious enough to notice. You thanked her quietly as she departed from the room. 
“You know the nurse’s assistant was the only one in the room with me when I first woke up after my accident.” You explained to the unconscious man before you. A fond smile settled onto your lips. “My parents had stepped out for a while just to get some food. Just their luck, huh? He held my hand while I was waking up so I wasn’t all by myself. It meant the world to me.”
It felt as though Megumi was trapped right back in the barrier between his mind and his soul— helpless to find an escape. This time around though, he had more of a will to fight. There was no way he had gone through everything and exhausted his mind, body, and soul, all to meet his demise because he didn’t look both ways before crossing the damn street. Another part of him wondered if this was fate granting him mercy. Perhaps if he didn’t die here, hooked up to all these tubes and machines, his cards held something sacreligious— a gruesome and grotesque death rather than the comparably mundane one that had befallen him. After all he’d been through, maybe this was blissful; the only happy ending that could be promised to him. 
As he lay in that strange veil of unconsciousness though, as if at the bottom of a pool, looking up and barely able to see the sun’s light poking up from the surface— someone was there with him. Your voice sounded as though it was just above the feet of water that separated him from life, muffled but still familiar. It was the same voice that had coaxed him into trusting his body to let go, not knowing whether or not it would be strong enough to reemerge again. 
His brows furrowed— that he could feel, and he willed himself to swim up to the surface as the soft hum of your tired rambling filled his ears. Why were you here? Why were you still here? The sorcerer needed to know, and the urge pushed him to keep struggling against the surface pressure that weighed him down. 
You weren’t sure how long you had sat there mindlessly babbling to the unresponsive man. Wariness was beginning to weigh down on your eyes and shoulders though, likely because you had been up since four that morning to prepare for your shift. If you stopped talking, you thought you might flop over and pass out yourself. He couldn’t be by himself when he woke up, you determined. 
Some staff had come in and dimmed the lights in the room what seemed like hours ago, so they weren’t so harsh in your tired eyes as you tilted your head back to stare at the ceiling while spewing out anything that came to mind. 
“My coworker finally texted me, you know. She said the only weird thing that passed by the shop today was you. Are you in some kind of gang? It would explain the uniform and all the…” Your rambling slowly died out as the sound of sheets rustling filled your ears. In an instant, you were sitting up properly in your uncomfortable chair. His hand twitched against the sheets, and you breathed out in anticipation as you watched his face contort in discomfort. The chair you had been occupying for hours slid back as you stood up abruptly to get a closer look. “Hey— can you hear me?”
Megumi forced his eyes open with what seemed like all the energy left in him. He half expected to be in Shoko’s infirmary with his friends hovering obnoxiously over him, or even in his room where he’d awake in his bed and realize he’d dreamt the entire scenario. The blinding, white ceiling tiles above him were different from the ones he’d grown accustomed to over the years though, and the dull ache radiating through his body served to remind him that he certainly hadn’t been graced by any reverse cursed technique. 
Those mysteriously dark eyes stared incredulously up at the ceiling, and you could see the confusion begin to morph onto his features. All too soon, that confusion shifted into panic as he tried to speak, only to be met by the grueling realization that there was a tube shoved down his throat. 
“It’s okay!” You quickly reassured, placing a careful hand on his shoulder to redirect his attention. With the little he was able to move, his eyes shifted as fast as he could manage to look at you, wide in subtle horror. You took your eyes off him for a second to push the nurse call button to alert them of his waking. “You were in an accident. You’re in the hospital.”
As he peered down at the state of himself, he only seemed more unsettled. You figured it was the mangled state he was left in that freaked him out, but what was going through his head was the mission he’d left behind, along with the curse that was likely still running rampant. Still, his inability to speak paired with his limited mobility certainly didn’t do much to settle his nerves. You watched him become more agitated as he attempted to move each limb to no avail, likely thanks to the arsenal of drugs coursing through his veins. 
“It’s alright, you’re okay.” You insisted, peering out the open door to see if the nurse was nearby. Looking around the room, you left his side for a moment to quickly snatch up a marker from the white board on the wall. You uncapped it and placed it in his hand, securing his weak grip around it before offering your arm. “Is there someone we can call? What’s your name?” 
As he stared incredulously down at your offered up arm, your questions were a jumbled mess in his disoriented mind. All that kept running through his head were questions of who the wide eyed, eager girl at his bedside was, and why her voice had been the only thing he could recall from his supposed accident. Megumi’s fingers trembled as they fought to lift up the marker. A muffled grunt escaped him as he tried to get a grip on it, and it clattered to the floor along with the last string of his patience. 
The sound of the marker clanking against the squeaky clean floor rang in his ears, taunting him in his weak state. Just as he began his attempted thrash against the scratchy sheets, the nurse finally stepped in, picking up her pace a bit as she saw the state of agitation he was in. In an instant, she was dialling someone for help, though you couldn’t be bothered to listen to her, desperate to get any answers out of the stranger. Once again, you offered up your hand to him, placing his fingers against your awaiting palm.
“Trace it on my hand, something—”
“Don’t push him.” The nurse urged as more staff members seemed to flood into the room. She was maneuvering over to the line of his IV with a syringe as she attempted to deescalate the situation herself. “He wasn’t supposed to wake up; if he becomes too agitated he can injure himself further.”
“Wait—” You attempted to stop her as she pushed what you assumed was something to calm him down into his line. Logically, you knew it was in his best interest, however your gnawing curiosity had you hoping he would stay conscious for the least bit longer to provide any answers. It only took seconds though, as the drug flooded his system, and the tension in his shoulders seemed to settle back against the flat bed. His eyelids moved torturously slow as he blinked hazily, and you knew the opportunity had found its way to evade you. 
“I-I’ll wait outside.” The dejected reminder fell from your lips, though you were sure the staff were too occupied to pay you any mind. Just as you moved to get out of their way though, the stranger’s weak fingers laced around your hand. With the waning of his already deplorable strength, you felt the pads of his digits press against you, urging you to stay. Looking up with a quiet gasp, you found his half-lidded eyes on you, a desperation in them that seemed so misplaced on his hard features— even if you didn’t know him. 
Megumi thought maybe if he held onto the now familiar presence that had been beside him all this time, that it would be the one thing to keep him alert enough to continue pushing through the haze of his unconsciousness. Whether it was your continuous, honied voice that pulled him from his drug-induced coma, or the fact that he’d pulled himself out of the depths of chains much stronger than the pharmaceuticals currently in his system, he didn’t know. What he did understand, was that your gentle fingers brushing against his knuckles was practically the only thing he could still feel, and it brought him a comfort he was not prepared to surrender just yet if he were to be pulled under again. 
So, you clung on to his hand as his eyes slowly shut, bleary irises focused on you till the very end as the staff bustled around the room and spoke with the doctors. Even as you felt your own lids growing heavy that night in the darkness of the intensive care room, you couldn’t bring yourself to untangle his fingers from yours. Unable to fight the gravity that weighed down your body to remind you you had been up since four that morning, your head slumped forward and rested on the edge of the bed beside your conjoined hands. 
You hadn’t the energy to think about how odd you may have looked clinging to a complete stranger as you snoozed. Instead, the embarrassment hit you when the kind nurse from the previous day, seemingly having recently clocked in for her shift, gently woke you the next morning with a prepackaged breakfast sandwich. With burning cheeks, you used your free hand to frantically smooth your disheveled hair down and wipe at your under eyes that were undoubtedly smeared with yesterday’s makeup before accepting the food with a shy but grateful smile. 
You waited for her to finish her morning checks on her patient before tearing into the sandwich as your rumbling stomach was demanding of you. In the meantime, she updated you on his condition with jargon that you tried hard to keep up with, but it was offensively early in the morning. Nodding along, you suddenly wished you had paid more attention to all those hospital dramas your roommate used to watch incessantly. A relieved sigh escaped you when she departed, letting you know to press the call button if you needed anything. 
“You’ve really gotta get it together soon, dude.” You commented through a mouthful of bread as you peered over at him thoughtfully. At the very least, you thought, his hand seemed warmer than it had yesterday, and you could only hope that was a good sign. “This hospital food sucks.”
Tossing the wrapper into the small trash bin nearby, you huffed out a sigh. Leaning in closer to him, you hesitantly pushed the thick, black hair away from his face, brushing it gently back against his scalp. A gulp forced its way down your throat at the sight of the thick scars that lined his eyes, and you found yourself carefully brushing against them with baffled curiosity. 
“Who are you?” You whispered, and for a moment you could swear his brows twitched into a furrow.  
“Hasn’t anyone ever told you it’s bad luck to cheat death?” A smoothly amused voice beckoned from the doorway. 
You instantly flinched away from your hovered state over the stranger, the hand that was grasped in his tightening in surprise as you looked up. Leaning against the entry was a tall man that nearly took up the entire door frame. His hair was a striking white that almost rivaled the blinding lights of the hospital room. Though concealed behind dark-rimmed sunglasses, you caught a glimpse of his startling blue eyes as he seemed to tilt his head in amusement at the scene before him. What captured your attention most of all though was the uniform he donned— one nearly identical to the one the mystery patient had been wearing during the accident. 
“Geez, after all you’ve been through, and a truck is what takes you out?” The man’s quip was this time directed at the John Doe, shaking his head with a smile as he slowly strolled into the room. 
“You know him?” You breathed out in relief, watching the fond expression on the man’s face as he scanned over the injuries. 
“Hm? Oh, yeah, he’s my student.” He responded casually, hands shoved into his pockets as he circled the bed curiously. “I assumed he was just ignoring my calls. Go figure, huh?”
The casual lightheartedness in his tone only served to confuse you. You couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that of all the people that came to claim this stranger, his teacher was the first? On top of that, how was he not brimming with concern upon finding the student he seemed so close with in intensive care? Your eyes skimmed down the strange uniform on his long body, lingering just a tad too long on the swirled button on his chest. 
“So, what’s the deal? You a girlfriend he didn’t tell anyone about?” 
Snapping up from your trance, you felt your face heat at his accusation, and you quickly shook your head. The corners of his lips twitched up in amusement. 
“I saw the accident happen.” You explained, allowing your gaze to drift back down to the patient. The edges of your teeth sunk into your bottom lip as you recounted the events of the last twenty-four hours, and you were struck by the absurdity of it all. “He… he asked me not to leave— you know, before he passed out.”
“So you didn’t?” His question sounded more like a statement, you noted. You nodded with a soft sigh. Peering up at the teacher with a pursed lip, your free hand reached up to graze the oddly-shaped scars on your upper arm. 
“I’m sorry if I overstepped. I just… was in a similar accident not too long ago. So, I empathized with him— that kind of fear, you know?” You felt the need to explain it to him, as you were sure you looked like some sort of stalker at the moment. The man didn’t respond, peering pensively down at you for long enough to make you squirm in your seat. “I guess I should go now.”
A wave of unnecessary guilt crashed in your chest as you slowly stood from the chair you had been in for countless hours. Giving once last, lingering regard to the unconscious man, you gulped down the confusing lump in your throat and smiled softly. 
“I hope you find whatever you were looking for.” You whispered, gently sliding your hand from his and placing it carefully over the blanket. Nodding respectfully at the man who had been silently watching the entire encounter, you began walking toward the exit. As you hand grazed the door frame, you turned around apprehensively to find the white-haired man already peering back at you knowingly. “What—What’s his name?”
With a fond smile, the man looked back down at his student as if to say we have a lot to catch up on when your ass wakes up before looking back at you. 
“Megumi.”
His name rang through your mind in the droning days that followed your fated encounter. With every order you rang up, his frantic entrance replayed in your head. Each unfruitful study session paved way for the cinematic replaying of his awakening, projected onto your imagination over and over until it became your favorite film that lulled you into relentless, insomniatic nights.
You wondered if his condition had improved, if he had left the hospital, if he was wondering about the girl who he clung onto at his most vulnerable. As the days dragged on, and you wistfully poured out a customer’s black coffee, you realized you had left those answers behind in the hospital room that morning. Still, the more logical part of your mind told you it was for the best given the concerningly curious circumstances of his accident. Additionally, the equally mysterious man that had come to claim Megumi only fanned the flames of your suspicions. 
Despite the impending sense of danger that came each time that supposed teacher’s words rang in your head—
“After all you’ve been through, and a truck is what takes you out?”
You weren’t sure if it was your concern over his recovery, or the gnawing curiosity about the life he led that had you walking back into the hospital almost a full week later. Whichever it was, it was strong enough to push down the nerves fluttering in your stomach as you walked up to the familiar reception front desk. It was the same woman that had you fill out the paperwork when he was first admitted, and, despite it taking her a bit, she remembered you. 
“Listen, I’m really sorry, but the process isn’t as easy now that someone signed his paperwork. I can’t disclose any information to you.” She explained apologetically as you slumped forward on the cold desk. There was a certain sorrow in her eyes as she watched you sigh in defeat. 
“I mean— could you just tell me if he’s okay?” You pleaded, already dreading the thought of having to leave that day with no answers. 
“I wouldn’t even be able to confirm or deny that that patient is still in our system.” It seemed it was upsetting her just as much to deny you, and it wasn’t your intention to make her job anymore difficult than it was. “I wish I could have been of more help to you.” 
You nodded in silent understanding, offering a grateful smile nonetheless as you pushed off of the desk to take your walk of shame out of the building. Perhaps it was a sign; the thought fleeted into your mind on what seemed like the endless trek to the door. This denial was the closure you needed to move on from this bizarre, chance encounter that happened to mimic one you witnessed firsthand just years ago. In stark terms, whatever seemed to be lying at the bottom of the mysterious well that was Megumi— wasn’t your business.
In the same notion though, maybe it was fate that that oddly large, white haired man was strolling into the very doors you were trying to exit, coffee and a paper bag clutched in his causal grip. Your mouth opened and closed as you looked up at him, unsure if he’d even recognize you or care enough to acknowledge your being there. As if sensing your silent stare, he glanced up from his phone for a moment, doing a small double take upon seeing you.  
“Pick up another straggler?” He teased, sliding his phone into the pocket of his uniform with a known smirk. His head tilted toward you. “What was it this time? Just so happened to be around when they mysteriously fell out a window?” 
Despite the fact that his seemingly playful nature was making you feel more comfortable, you still couldn’t help the heat that rushed to your face. Attempting a breathless chuckle, you smiled nervously at the man. 
“The hospital should start paying me commission, huh?” You quipped with apprehensive amusement. A short but genuine laugh broke through his teasing facade, and he nodded for you to walk with him. Pushing past the slight shock of how easily this was going for you, you stumbled after him. 
“I’m assuming you’re not here to see me?” 
Chewing on your bottom lip, you watched the bright tiles passing under your feet as you followed him through the hospital. Once again, you were hit by the realization that you were meddling in something you seriously had no business in. Still, the nonchalant man leading you through the hallways didn’t seem to have any sort of reaction to your curiosity.
“I’m really sorry if I’m overstepping, it’s just been kind of eating me alive.” You confessed with a halfhearted chuckle.
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, our little overachiever isn’t in intensive care anymore.” He informed with an almost proud smile. 
“Really?” You didn’t intend to sound so relieved, but it was an almost instantaneous reaction. 
“Yuuup. Officially graduated.” He confirmed as he wiped mock tears from under his sunglasses. “Go see for yourself, his room’s right here.” 
As he stopped in front of a cracked open door, you hadn’t even realized the man had been leading you to pay Megumi a visit. Glancing up at him unassuredly, you didn’t have a chance to ask if he was sure before he was waving you off nonchalantly.
“Actually, if you don’t mind taking my stuff in there.” The teacher requested, not giving you a chance to protest as he shoved the coffee and bag into your hands. “Forgot my phone in my car.”
Your brows furrowed for a moment, cause you could have sworn you had just seen him slip the aforementioned phone into his pocket just as you ran into him. There was no time to question it though, because in an instant, his freakishly long legs were traversing him back down the way you came in. With a barely noticeable huff of disbelief, your gaze drifted to the cracked-open door in front of you. You shook your head before pushing in anyway, trying to be mindful of the nearly overflowing coffee cup that was desperately trying to spill onto your hand. 
“Shit.” You muttered under your breath with a flinch as you felt a scalding drop offend your skin. 
“You’re not Gojo.” 
“Shit!” You repeated with a start, posture jolting up to face whoever it was that damn near just sent you to the afterlife. 
What you hadn’t expected to see was the very awake and very alert Megumi sitting up in his hospital bed. His mouth was free of the tube that once restrained it, though you could still hear the after affects of it in the rasp and crack of his voice. In fact, the only thing he appeared to still be connected to was an IV pole and what looked like a heart monitor. 
You could have killed the tall stranger, whom you presumed was the Gojo character he was talking about, for not thinking it important to warn her that Megumi was no longer unconscious before you waltzed into his room so nonchalantly. In truth, you expected to drop by, see with your own two eyes that the man hadn’t succumbed to his injuries, and be on your merry way. 
“Ow! Fuck,” You were babbling at this point, pacing around for anywhere to put down the damned coffee cup that had just scalded your hand in tandem with your startled jump. The black haired man watched you silently, almost moving to get up to help you before he remembered the brace that wrapped his right ankle. “I’m so sorry— I had no idea you were awake.” 
Your frantic apologies continued spilling from your lips as you ran your stinging hand underneath the sink that sat in the corner. You did it partly to soothe the pain, but another part of you just didn’t think you could face the poor man after completely invading his privacy. 
“That weird guy with the sunglasses told me to come in, but then he just—”
“You were the one that stayed with me after the accident, right?”
Unable to gage the flat tone in his voice, you slowly turned the faucet off before finally turning to face him. In the time you hadn’t been looking, it seemed he had pushed the hair out of his face, and he was sitting up a little higher in the bed than you remembered. The book in his lap laid open and forgotten, his large, dark eyes focused intently on you. 
“Uh, yeah.” You admitted softly, wiping your hands nervously on your bottoms. “You were outside the cafe—”
“I remember.” He stated flatly, making you bite down harshly on your bottom lip. Megumi was coming off as rude, guarded, irritated— he knew he was, but he couldn’t for the life of him gather his thoughts well enough to express the gratitude he felt for you. Even more so though, he couldn’t possibly bring himself to understand the curiosity and fondness that had been festering over the past few days in your absence. 
A silence enveloped the room, and you suddenly wondered where the hell his teacher was— desperate for anything to break the tension. 
“Well, I should probably go.” You finally mustered out, setting the bag and cup down onto the counter before turning to leave. “I-I’m glad to see you’re doing better. Sorry again to—”
“Wait,” Megumi urged, leaning forward so quickly it had him wincing with the pressure on his injured ribs. Your hair swayed as you whipped your head back at him in question, and you thought you saw the slightest pink hue on his cheeks. “Sorry, I’m… on a lot of meds. You don’t have to leave.” 
His excuse made your brow slowly quirk up, an amused smirk barely concealed on your lips. Attempting to push down your amusement, you pursed your lips and glanced out the door for any sign of Gojo’s return. Upon seeing only the hospital staff bustling around, you slowly made your way over and sat down on the chair beside his bed. For a moment, the two of you simply stared at one another in silence, both of you unsure of what to say next. 
In your brief study of his now conscious face up close, you noticed each sharp feature of his, from his straight nose, to the strong line of his jaw. Somehow, despite their dark hue, his wide eyes seemed to soften his face even if just minimally with every caress of his long, thick lashes against his cheekbones. You wanted to avert your eyes to stop the incoming flush in your cheeks upon the sudden realization that Megumi was incredibly attractive, but you couldn’t seem to tear your eyes away.
In a last ditch effort to preserve any dignity, you were grasping at straws to say anything. 
“What were you look—”
“Why did you stay?” 
The both of you began simultaneously, but his question made you clam up. There wasn’t malice in his tone, but a raw curiosity instead, an urge to understand. His brows were slowly settling into that familiar furrow you remembered seeing on his sleeping form constantly. 
“I— You asked me to.” You answered simply, your voice quieter than it was before. A small huff of breath raced out his nose at your response. 
“So you just do whatever strange men you just met tell you to do?”
“I think I preferred you when you still had a tube down your throat.” You laughed breathlessly, a little shocked at the sass that emanated from the seemingly reserved man. Almost immediately, he rolled his pretty eyes at your comment, but there was a ghost of a smile threatening to assassinate the cool-boy persona he had built up. 
“Why did you stay?” Megumi asked again. There was more conviction in his rasped tone this time. Subconsciously, your hand creeped up to grasp at your scarred upper arm, and he followed the motion intently. His gaze narrowed slightly at the raised skin, a hint of recognition flashing in his eyes as he continued to stare. 
“Two years ago, I was in a similar accident. There was all sorts of hell breaking loose in the city, so I didn’t think anyone would help me, you know?” You recounted with a sad smile, feeling your breath tremble at the memory. “I still don’t know how they got me out— some guy that was around. He almost ran right past me. I never got to thank him, or ask him how he got me out from under the car. I was already in the hospital when I woke up.”
He processed your words for a moment, blinking slowly down at your scar as the puzzle pieces seemed to click together in his mind. It sounded too familiar— just as the marks on your arms were ones he’d surely seen before. 
“And that scar—  you got it from the accident?” He assumed, though he already knew the answer. You nodded, looking down at it yourself and allowing the tips of your fingers to trace each curve. The corners of his lips twitched up on their own accord, eyes softening with the revelation that fate had always been on his side. “Kind of looks like a bite.”
There was a subtly bemused tone in his voice. You didn’t quite understand where it was coming from, but as you inspected the mark closer with this perspective, you hummed in fascination. 
“I don’t really see it.” You mumbled. 
In an instant, his fingers had reached out to fold gently around your arm. Your eyes fluttered up to look at him in surprise, but he was still focused on your mark with a soft fondness. Swiping his thumb over the raised skin, the pads of his fingers mapped out the familiar canine marks of his demon dog. 
As if the feel of it ignited his memory, he could almost perfectly recall the sight of the large hound tearing through the wrecked car as Megumi exorcised the curse that had been at the cusp of the mangled traffic jam. Working on his command, the boy watched as the dog emerged, dragging a girl out of the rubble by her arm. The skin around the bite was already bloodied and bruised, but you certainly still had more of a chance of survival than you had before the damned bite. 
At once, there was an understanding in his still foggy mind that the machinery of right and wrong he had grown accustomed to over the years was far more prophetic than he ever cared to give it credit for. It didn’t matter what reason you gave him for staying by his side that night, because he already understood it wholeheartedly on a much different level than he had anticipated. Megumi had always been the type to search for reason in his own kindness while cynically picking apart the kindness of others. After all he’d been through, perhaps this was the final nail in the coffin of his nihilistic pattern of viewing his moral compass. 
“See, Megumi? I told you your knight in shining armor would come back for you!” That familiarly sarcastic voice that you had now been able to name Gojo, had the both of you flinching back from the unexpectedly intimate moment. Megumi’s face seemed to sour instantly as the man strolled into the room with a wide smile. “This kid was driving me insane, asking me about you as soon as they pulled that tube out of his throat.” 
The patient grumbled, and if he had more strength and less shit hooked up to him, he would have thrown a pillow at his teacher. Glaring dangerously at him, Megumi swatted his hand away as the older man began to ruffle at his hair in mock affection. Despite his clear mortification, you smiled amusedly at the scene before you. 
“Thanks for looking after the little guy for me.”
“I’m starting to think I should get a job here.” You joked back as you stood from your chair. You looked back at Megumi, who’s hard gaze was slowly melting into subtle confusion as he watched you rise. “I’m really glad you’re okay.”
You bowed in thanks to Gojo before making your way to the door. 
“You’re leaving?” Megumi stopped you at the exit for the second time that day. Had you looked now, you would have caught the deadly glare he shot his sensei’s way for ruining the moment. 
With your hand on the door, you turned around to offer him a warm smile, one that had his shoulders slumping forward as if enveloped in the most welcoming of blankets. 
“Gotta get to work.” You explained regretfully, chewing on the inside of your cheek. In a spark of confidence that was surely spurred on by the fact that you still had endless questions for the man, you continued with a bashful grin. “But you know where to find me. Maybe you can actually stay for your order this time, hm?”
Gojo almost had to turn away to hide the laughter bubbling in his chest upon seeing the dumbstruck expression on Megumi’s face as he could only muster up a small nod. You found yourself nodding along with him. 
“I’ll have your order ready.” You teased with a wink. “Black coffee, right?”
The boy breathed out in disbelief, watching with pink tinted cheeks as your hair swayed behind you while you took your leave. He wished with everything in him, since fate seemed to be playing so mercifully with him these days, that his ankle would miraculously heal in time for him to chase after you to catch one more glimpse of your glittering eyes and incandescent smile. Perhaps he had already had his fill of fate’s luck for one lifetime though, because he could only remain seated dumbly on the hospital bed, jaw hanging down just a hair as he breathed out. 
“Right.”
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sultrybaby · 3 days ago
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Nothing Compares To Being In Love With You (S.G)
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(pics are not mine. credit to rightful owners. divider also from pinterest)
summary🦢 In which a cluster of old letters stand as the only testament of gojo's love for you, from birth to (quite literally) death.
genre 🦢 romance, angst, some fluff
pairing (s) 🦢 gojo x reader | reader x naoya zenin
warnings 🦢 reader/main character death, MAJOR ANGST obviously, not exactly forbidden love but more unfortunate circumstances, domestic abuse, mentions of bleeding and punching (no actual description of the abuse this is unrelated bleeding and punching), excessive use of the word sin in one of the monologues, mentions of glass, naoya zenin sucks, letters are from gojo's pov which might be hard to follow I am not sure. Gojo is down bad.
DO NOT ROMANTICIZE ABUSE. THIS FIC (AND ME) DOES NOT CONDONE ROMANTICIZATION OF ABUSE AND IF U ARE LOOKING FOR FICS THAT DO (WHICH IS SICK) THIS IS NOT THE FIC FOR U AND ALSO PLS BLOCK ME CUZ EW.
a/n: this was supposed to be an enhypen fanfic but then I changed my mind. I'm honestly just shocked I actually finished this. Hopefully this idea has manifested to be as good as it seemed in my head and isn't confusing to follow. ENJOY BESTIESSSSS.
🦢🦢🦢🦢🦢🦢🦢
"So apparently, this house belonged to a young bachelor once," explained Mary to her all-too-curious daughter eveline, who sat wide-eyed like a little lamb on the floor of the new house the family had just moved into.
'Really?"
"Yes, baby," Mary chuckled, running her fingers through eveline's (or evie, as they lovingly call her) hair to brush the strands away from her face.
"Where is he now?"
"Oh I don't know sweetheart," Mary sighed, lightly amused at the disappointment on evie's face.
"But maybe there are some clues around the house! If you ever get the time,  you should explore. Who knows, you might find something…"
Evie's eyes twinkled in excitement at the prospect of having an adventure in this foreign pile of bricks that she now had to learn to call home. Perhaps this will create a sense of oneship with the house.
Determined to uncover the secrets of the mysterious young bachelor, little evie started on her mission to unearth every corner of the building. After toppling boxes, crawling through crevices, and occasionally bumping her head on random walls, evie finally uncovered a rather absurd looking block.
And that is the story of how Mary was gifted this curious looking box by her exhausted daughter, waddling excitedly to show her the discovery.
The box had an old-fashioned grace to it. It was clearly disintegrating; cheap, fading, yellowed white  paint hung off the corners, all dried up, waiting to be chipped off. It seemed as if there was some kind of locking mechanism in the front of the box which has long been broken. All it took was a simple motion for the mouth of the box to open wide, revealing a neatly stacked set of what one could assume were letters.
The first letter was different to the others. While the rest were prettily folded, this one had a texture much more rough- as if it had been crushed and then straightened again. And on it, in extremely feathery ink, was written,
Dear ____,
You are the sun and the stars and the rose and the beautiful sky. You are made of the serenity of heaven and the tempting evil of hell. You are everything created to be beautiful, and you also make anything beautiful by association. Every day and every night, in light, in darkness, in life, and even now in death, you make me realize why Orpheus would go to the deadly underworld just to get Eurydice back. I understand his pain and longing.
I know we parted ways hurtfully and there is no action I regret more. And in my attempt to tell myself I hated you, I failed in my life's purpose- to truly let you know how much I loved you.
This is a memoir of the love I lost, a love that was but a bubble in air- shining briefly with all the most beautiful colours, then popping abruptly. And this is just an attempt at preserving some of that wonder and beauty so that when my heart aches a bit too much, I can cry to the essence of your soul (which is funny, because you are too much, too great, to be put into words).
Lovingly,
Yours yesterday, today, and forevermore,
Satoru Gojo.
A love story- a tragic one, was etched in the letters following. In that little white box was the history of Gojo Satoru's love for this mysterious woman to whom he had devoted his heart entirely.
And so Mary started reading…
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Dear ____
Today I decided that I would start attempting to put into words my love for you. In these scraps of paper lie not the true extent of my love- that would be impossible to boil down to mere letters- but just enough for my heart to no longer feel as if it is at the brink of explosion from the pain of carrying the weight of my love for you.
The first time I saw you was when I was rushing to work. What started off as a normal day turned into an irreplaceable, unforgettable memory when I heard an angelic voice bantering with a baker.
"Jesus Antonio a damned second grader could bake better bread in their sleep- it’s not worth more than a dollar a loaf. So I ain't paying any more than that"
I felt compelled by fate to turn around and figure out who was truly the source of this wildly amusing diatribe.
Saying that my eyes were unprepared to capture the beauty I was about to witness would be an understatement. I found myself unable to move, nailed to the ground as I took in the sheer magnificence of your existence. And then I blinked. And you were gone.
I remember shaking my head wildly to see where the angel had disappeared off to, and my heart sighed in relief as I saw your unmistakable figure walk with a triumphant smirk and a loaf of bread that you surely had not paid more than a dollar for.
Today marks the second year since we've known each other. Every day since I have carried the burden of my love with utmost pleasure, because loving you is the greatest experience of my life. Nothing compares to being in love with you. But every so often when I stare at you, hoping the longing in my heart doesn't show in my eyes, I wish you were mine.
Yours forevermore,
Gojo.
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Dear ___
The first time we ever talked was in the same bakery I first saw you in, although I will admit it is not as much of a coincidence as it may seem. For every day since I saw you, I wandered around the bakery, hoping to catch a glimpse of your hair again.
First I would wander around the area, walking up and down the road multiple times.
Then I started to stick to the stores right next to the bakery. I bought so many snow globes that I really didn't need, not to mention all those picture frames…
Finally, picking up the courage to meet you, I walked into the bakery. I waited around a bit, but eventually it became clear that you were not making an appearance. Dejected, I decided to get something anyway. I had come to the bakery after all.
"Excuse me, how much for kikufuku" I'd asked
"That's be $3 good sir"
It was as I pulled the notes from my wallet that I heard a familiar voice shrieking,
"ANTONIO HOW DARE YOU RIP OFF THIS GOOD MAN?"
To this day it might be my favourite statement of all time.
I turned around to meet your eyes. All was a blur and before I knew it I had a loaf of bread in my hand along with two of the three dollars I was about to hand in.
"..hello?"
I blinked myself back to reality as I saw you waving your palm good naturedly in front of my face.
"Oh h-hi…"
I saw you giggle, probably at the sight of my extremely flustered face. I could feel the heat absorbing all common sense from my brain.
"What's your name, sir?"
"Sato- Gojo…Gojo Satoru…" I breathed out, "and you?"
"____"
I don't think you will ever realize how much that day changed me. And that's okay. I don't want you to feel the anguish I do. I just want you to keep smiling and giggling as you love to. Oh, and chewing off Antonio's ears, of course.
Yours forevermore,
Gojo.
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Dear ___
I know we're just friends, but sometimes when you show up at my door with a bag of sweets that you just happened to remember were my favourite, I wonder if there is something deeper; if there is any possibility that you could feel what I feel. And when you hand me the bag, I wonder if I was just imagining the way your touch lingered as our fingers grazed, if I was just imagining your gaze momentarily resting on mine with the same intensity with which I look and think of you.
I know we're just friends, but then why is it that every moment we spend apart from each other feels like my heart is getting ripped out piece by piece? And I know that you would never experience the anguish I do, but then as we spend hours and hours on the telephone talking and laughing about anything and everything, I can't help but wonder if you would do this just for a friend. I again let myself hope that maybe, maybe you felt at least a fraction of the deep devotion I felt for you. But I would never, ever mention it. For the thought of losing what we have now, of losing the ability to experience heaven even in such simple ways, brings me fear that gnaws at my heart and soul. So I hide my worries and my wishes as I keep listening to the sound of your voice through the telephone.
I know we're just friends but do friends have such deep understanding of each other to the point where your wish is nothing but my instinct?
I know we're just friends but are the lives of friends so deeply intertwined in each other that when you lie next to them you can't sense where you end and they begin? When you can't remember if you're in your house or theirs for that is how much time you spend in each other's lives. At what point of spending every day together does my life turn into yours. ____  I don't know how I can go on living without telling you how much you mean to me.
I know we're just friends, but sometimes I feel the line blurring away when we're drunk and unstable and tangled in each other, both of us holding the other for support. And as we messily fall onto the floor, giggling at our pathetic state, I take the moment to cradle you in my arms. In your drunken frenzy you place the softest of kisses on my cheek, only to fall asleep on my shoulder immediately after. When I'm staring at you longingly I can't help but wonder, what are we? What is this love, this gentleness, this warmth? Is this friendship? Is friendship supposed to be so overwhelming? The weight of these questions momentarily crush me, but it all fades away as I stare at your beautiful being, peacefully snoring on my shoulder. And in that moment, all my worries take the backseat, and all I care about is protecting this peace of yours. Whether I do that as a lover or a friend is not a matter to me.
Yours forevermore,
Gojo.
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This might be the last time I speak of my love for you, for today you told me that you love me too. So I no longer have to express it in secret, but I can let you know wholeheartedly.
I will never forget the way your head rested against my shoulder, nose-deep in your book. And as I failed to look away from you, I didn’t realize that you had turned to look at me too. I will never forget the way your hand rested on my shoulder as you pulled yourself up to look me in the eye, while I sat there stupidly, mesmerized by the way you moved, so gentle, so light, so ethereal.
Most importantly, I will never forget the way you cupped my face, the subtlest of tears shining in your eyes, and told me, breath hitching at every note,
"Satoru I don't know what I'm feeling. I know I shouldn't be feeling this but I don’t know what it is. I don’t know if you do either. It would kill me to ruin our friendship but this anguish is killing me too and so I'm going to kiss you now and if you don’t like it feel free to punch me"
You leaned forward, and just before you kissed me you stole a glance at my face. And that was when I let go of all the restraints I had placed on my heart.
It was something in the way that our eyes locked;  the brilliant world built on the lies of our hearts crumbling as I cried on your lips in prayer. Maybe this was sin, but the tears I drank were proof that underneath all the chaos hid something real, and it was hidden for no reason but the fact that the world my god created was also made of the same kind of sin as her touch, unprepared to accept the beauty of it all. Damn the preachers, look at her face. Will not the angels sing in her name? If God hated sin so, why did he give her the same beauty as that of his mountains and oceans and the moon? We all are born of sin and sinners at the hour of our death, but I alone had the privilege of being absolved by sin.
I love you, ___. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.
Yours forevermore,
Satoru.
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Dear ___
I know I said I wouldn’t write more of these since I don’t need to hide my love for you any longer but it turns out I'm incapable of stopping my expression of devotion towards you. I love you in ways that I want to etch down. I want to world to know how much I love you. Even after we're dead and gone, I want these words to stay there forever, because that is the nature of my love for you. Permanent. Everlasting.
I love the way your pretty little hands smooth over my tensed shoulders when I've had a long day. Your chest against my back, your hands enveloping me from behind, the way you whisper into my ear has me wishing for nothing more than the moment to last forever. I love you.
I love the way you kiss me. I love the way you cup my cheeks like a child before kissing them. I love the way you kiss my forehead, the way you kiss my nose, the way you kiss my upper lip, my chin, my shoulder, my eyes. Every bit of proof that an angel like you could ever love me has me in awe, in reverence of how simple it is for you to have me wrapped around your little finger. I love you.
I love the soft little touches that are so characteristic of the way you love. I love the way you fix my messy hair. I love the way you pull me closer during cold breezes, claiming it is to keep me warm. And I stand there in adoration of how cute you look as you hide yourself in the crook of my jacket. And I embrace you in my warmth as if I could never let you go. I love the way you absent mindedly play with my fingers. I love the way you link your arms with mine. I love the way you lean in close to wipe something from the corners of my mouth. I love all of it I love you.
I love it when you're so happy that you do a little dance. I love it when you're so nervous about sneaking away from an important meeting with your family members and running to me that you keep spacing out a little, making that really cute zoned out face of yours. I even love your beautiful diamond tears, even if I hate what it is that made you cry, when you're frustrated with all that your mother and father want from you. I love you I love you I love you.
I love you so much, ___. I can only hope that I remind you of it enough.
Love,
Satoru
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"Mama that paper is pretty crumplyy- Mama are you ok?"
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Dear ___
No.
It can't be.
I keep telling myself it can't be but your words cling to my skin, the cacophony of which psychedelically revolve around my soul.
It can't be It can't be It can't be
“'toru… we can’t do this anymore. It’s over. I'm getting married.”
 “Married? You’re joking, right? Did your parents finally find some guy who fits their impossibly high standards?”
 “This isn’t a joke, toru, They have found someone. He’s a good match. Someone stable, responsible. I’ve… agreed to it.”
“Wait�� you agreed to it? So you’re just… going along with it? After everything we’ve been through? After us?”
“Please don’t make this harder than it already is. My family expects me to marry someone who can provide stability, someone they can rely on. You and I… we were just… a dream.”
“A dream? That’s what this was to you? A dream? And you’re just going to… throw it away?”
“Yes I mean… toru, look at you. You live life as if you’re still a kid, as if nothing really matters. You laugh everything off, even the serious things, and that’s— That’s not what I need! I need someone who can give me certainty. Someone who can give me a future.”
“Certainty? Is that all I am to you, just some silly guy who can’t give you a future? Because I would have. I would have done anything to make it work, and you know it.”
“No, Satoru, you wouldn’t have, You’d have tried for a while, but eventually, you’d get restless. That’s who you are—you go wherever you feel like going, with no thought for consequences, no… no sense of commitment. And I can’t live like that.”
“You don’t know that! You’re deciding all this for both of us. You’re… you’re running away, choosing some path that someone else picked out for you. How is that the stability you want? It’s just… it’s just giving up.”
“No, it’s not giving up! You don’t understand. This isn’t just about you or me. It’s about family, tradition… things that are bigger than both of us. You’re acting like a child who thinks love is all that matters. Well, it’s not. Not in my world.”
 “I see. So you’d rather marry a stranger than even give us a chance? Than let me try to be what you need?”
“Gojo… I love you. But love isn’t enough to change everything. I wish it were. But it’s not.”
“Maybe you don’t love me as much as you think, then.”
“Don’t… don’t say that, I’ll never stop loving you, but I need to let you go. And you…You need to let me go, too. It’ll be easier that way.”
“Easier? You’re not making anything easier, trust me. I’ll never forget you. I’ll always wonder what we could’ve been… but you’re right, aren’t you? I’m just too silly, too carefree to matter.”
Naoya Zenin. The heir of one of the biggest families in the nation. Rich, powerful, handsome. Perfect. He was perfect it seemed. And so were you.
But the anger in my heart doesn’t still. Maybe because I don’t want to accept the truth- that I truly was never enough for you.
Because I know that you are not that perfect. Because it was your imperfection that I fell in love with. And the imperfect you casted the imperfect me away because you were imperfect in a way that everyone loved and I was imperfect in a way no one could bear to see. You were imperfect in a way that could be fixed by getting you married (as your wretched family never failed to mention) while I was…unfixable.
Broken.
We were both broken shards, and in our interweaved misery I deluded myself into believing we came from the same piece of glass. When you bled on me I drank your suffering, living through my burning throat just to hold you up. But you were always meant to be great, and I was not. And I told myself that I made you, breathed you into creation. That you were nothing without me. That the time I spent crafting your wings made me something, as if you had not discarded them as soon as you could. Your apathy was cruelty, your fame a testimony to the different seas of being that we are. And as I hung from the broken bridge I built, you flourished.
But in those fluttering moments when our eyes meet, those intense seconds where two frail souls reach out their hands in memory of what once used to be, of what once was the truth, I see that broken woman again. It makes me realize that you were a gorgeous vase dropped on accident, while I was a pair of rose tinted glasses broken in frustration. You were crafted to be beautiful, temporarily set back by fate, while I would forever just be a memory of the lies we tell ourselves.
But a broken vase can never be put back together, and someday, the world would know that your greatness was just a house of cards; fated to be toppled over by the dying breath of the frail strands that tied our hearts together.
Yours,
Satoru.
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Dear ___,
I was so sure I understood, so sure that I was the one who’d been wronged. All I saw was you walking away, slipping through my fingers, and it burned—I let it fill me with anger, as if I was the only one hurt by it all. I couldn’t see past my own pain to realize you were scared. You weren’t breaking up with me because you didn’t care, but because you were… trapped.
The Saddest of stories are always of the happiest of people; the ones whose heart lit up at the sight of the world. But the world was too cruel to some of them, and love is never enough to carry one through the ugliness of this world we live in. And soon enough comes a time when looking at a glass of water causes heartache, and every light is so blinding that it physically pains you to get out of bed, and when all that lingers is the feeling of cold numbness inside. By then love is all forgotten, holding no meaning. No amount of care or happiness can fix the damage caused by the seemingly harmless boredom. Boredom then turns to dissatisfaction, and dissatisfaction turns to hopelessness, and through all of this there are those who can put up the façade of a healthy life.
We never see them- or at least see them as they truly are. Sad, Bored, a little dead on the inside. It's not like they seem to be happy or cheerful either- just nothing out of the ordinary. But the ordinary deceives the mind, and we leave out those little moments when their face breaks and the tears slip and the bandaid falls of- not because the wound has healed, but because it has bled too much. And also because it is not the kind of wound that a bandaid can fix. But they ignore this, and keep sticking bandaids (sometimes loosely attaching the same one over) in hopes that it will one day work the way they expect. But this only causes the wound to turn toxic, until it turns numb. And you think this means it has healed, but it is only when it is slightly brushed against, and the unbearable pain jolts throughout, that you realize that its just gotten worse in silence.
I didn’t even think to ask if you were okay. I thought you were just cold, maybe even heartless, telling me you needed someone more stable, someone responsible. But now, I see that you were pleading for something I didn’t understand. You needed help, someone to see through what you couldn’t say. You needed someone who’d ask why you said those things, why you looked so… afraid. And I missed it. I didn’t stop to question why you had this sadness behind your words, this weight pressing on you. I was too focused on being right, on feeling betrayed, to see what was right in front of me.
I convinced myself that you just wanted a different life, something that didn’t involve me, when really, you were… struggling. I should have seen that the way you talked about him, about your 'future,' was hollow. I should have noticed how you’d say the word 'marriage' like it was a sentence, not a choice. And instead of asking you, instead of listening—I let myself believe you were leaving me for someone else, that you’d never loved me the way I loved you. I made it about me, when all you needed was someone who could see what you couldn’t say out loud.
And now, here I am, replaying every word, every conversation, and wondering why I didn’t ask the right questions, why I didn’t push just a little harder to know what was really going on. I was supposed to be the one who loved you. But instead of standing by you, instead of seeing your fear, I just… got angry. I made you feel like you were wrong for leaving me, when in reality, you were just trying to survive. You were terrified, and I was too wrapped up in my own feelings to realize you needed me.
So now I’m left here with nothing but regrets, wishing I had seen the truth, wishing I’d known enough to tell you I’d help, that you weren’t alone. And now… now it’s too late. And I’ll never forgive myself for that
If only you knew that I would have been there for you. When he hurt your body and your heart and mind, I would have been there. If I had known, an angel like you would not have suffered more than a mere second in the house of a tyrant. If I had known, you would be laughing in my arms instead of crying on his floor. If I had known, maybe you would still be here with me.
Naoya Zenin.
That monster. I always hated him, but I thought… I thought it was jealousy. Just me being petty. But now I see him, in my mind—the way he looked at her, the way he… possessed you, like you were some damn object. He never saw you, not the way you really were. No. To him, you were just something he could cage, something to crush under his control.
How could he do it? How could he look you in the eyes and destroy you? How could he even live with himself? You loved life; you loved people, loved him, once—God, that makes it worse. He didn’t deserve a second of your love. He didn’t even deserve to be in the same room as you, and yet he was the one… he was the one who had you, day after day. His hands, that sick, twisted mind—you suffered because of him. And he’ll never pay enough for what he’s done. No punishment, no hell is deep enough for him.
I should have seen it. All those times I got frustrated with you, thinking you were pulling away, that you were lying to me. But you weren't lying, were you? You were hiding it, hiding the pain… because you knew I wouldn’t understand. I’d always get so mad, so impatient, thinking you were just… playing games, trying to hurt me. But you weren't. You were crying for help, and I just walked away, time after time. I thought I was so… righteous, so hurt. I thought I deserved the truth, that I had the right to be angry.
But I didn’t see your pain, did I? I never stopped to look closer, to ask you if you were really okay. I didn’t see how you’d flinch when he’d call, how you’d go silent, like you were somewhere far away. You were in hell, and all I cared about was my own heart. I was supposed to protect you, and instead, I pushed you back into his arms. I let you go back to him, and now… now you're gone."
And there’s nothing I can do to bring you back. Nothing I can do to make up for the times I failed you, for not listening, for not… seeing. It’s too late. I lost you forever. And it’s my fault.
I'm sorry, love.
Yours forevermore,
Satoru.
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Dear ___
Today I watched you buried. I couldn’t see your face, as I maintained my distance, not trusting myself to be able to bear to be next to the ones who allowed you to be hurt. Moreover, I refuse to believe that you are gone. You're in my heart, and you always will be.
But as the day descended into night, and the yard was empty for miles, I dared to come close.
And I couldn’t hold it in anymore.
I don't know when the hot tears started falling, mind blank as my knees thumped against the cold hard ground. And suddenly, all the agony clutched at my throat till I couldn't breathe, and I sobbed. I sobbed and bawled till I couldn’t feel my breath anymore. I needed the pain out of me but I didn't know how and in a vain attempt to ease the pain I punched and punched the ground as if it would cause you to come back to life again. As if it was the fault of the earth for taking you away from me. I cried hideously and clawed monstrously at the ground, but nothing changed. I rested my head on the grass in exhaustion, and thumped my head against the ground in anger as the tears kept falling. But even as I choked on the soil, nothing changed. I was still alone except for the company of the solitude taking pity on my pathetic state. I could feel the nothingness embrace me, comforting me, for I was truly alone in the world now, and I could feel it to my core.
And although my heart is numb and even as the bruises on my fingers from punching the floor bleed onto the page, I cannot stop myself from writing. I write and write and write because these letters are the only thing keeping you alive and I'm afraid if I stop then you will truly be gone and that can't be it can't be it can't.
 Because no matter where you are, my heart still beats for you. And despite the pain that follows the realization that yours no longer beats at all, I want to live forever. I want this simple heart of mine to thrum in your honor until the end of time. So that I can keep the feeling of being in love with you. So that I can, just for a moment, remember that I had the honour of being in love with you. Because nothing compares to being in love with you.
Yours yesterday, today, and forevermore,
Satoru.
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a/n: hope you enjoyed. ive never written for jjk before and although ive watched the show and am familiar w the manga idk if this is ooc im sry. i have wanted to write for jjk for a while now tho so i am glad i did. i love angst if you couldnt tell btw.
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chameleonwritess · 1 day ago
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Incoming essay about Yuzuru Fushimi and why I believe he is the least normal Ensemble Stars character
Before we begin, I’d like to thank @normalestenstars both for giving me the motivation to actually write this at last, and for the polls that have allowed me to ponder over the normality of each enstars character, along with how normality would even be gauged. I’m aware that the concept will have differed from person to person, and so I’ll attempt to explain my metric of normality in order to explain why, say, Kanata, Wataru, or HiMERU aren’t my ‘least normal’ character (okay, what is it with blue hair and insanity in enstars, bc Tatsumi is kinda making the most insane list too). I'll also put the essay under the cut because... it got long. But if you wanna learn about Yuzuru, you came to the right place!
I was judging normality to be a combination of life experiences through from childhood to adulthood, behaviour, current responsibilities and activities, ways of reacting to situations, ways of interacting with the world, mental headspace and its subsequent projections, and any juxtapositions between those- particularly with regards to internal and external worlds of a character (this might not make any sense… it made sense to me but I’m hardly a most normal character myself).
First up, as Kanata was dubbed the audience voted least normal, I’ll touch  briefly on which specific aspect differed here between Kanata and Yuzuru that made me choose Yuzuru over Kanata. Both by the general audience and by the characters within the world of Ensemble Stars, Kanata is perceived as weird and strange, and his backstory explains that weirdness very well… perfectly well, basically. Of course he’s weird and outlandish given he grew up believing he was a living god. Meanwhile, Yuzuru is deemed as pretty normal by both characters and the general audience. At least on the surface! The amount of enstars fans I’ve heard call Yuzuru boring just confirms this, really. Who would ever dream of calling Kanata boring? But the characters who know Yuzuru better, or for those who finally get to interact with him more than very surface level, they suddenly uncover that oh shit hang on this guy is TERRIFYING and INSANE and what the actual FUCK IS GOING ON??? (See: Resort Live when Adonis is in the water and when Yuzuru dives to fetch him he felt like he was being followed by a wild carnivore and was confused as to how the hell Yuzuru had hidden that kind of aura up until now). Love how I said brief and then reached this length BUT essentially it’s the juxtaposition of Yuzuru’s external perception versus his actual reality that puts him on top of the weirdness ladder for me. Kanata’s weirdness is very in line with his history, giving him an aspect of normality, or at least expectedness, in my opinion (I’m in no way denying that Kanata is NOT NORMAL, though, don’t worry. My only actual denial of any not normal allocations is Wataru… but we’ll get to that in another essay xoxo)
RIGHT now let’s start with the Yuzuru focus. We’re gonna go back to his past to begin with. And no, I don’t mean the military camp, actually (although the very fact I just said those words should hopefully be clueing you in to Yuzuru’s abnormality). I’ll leave a list at the end of this of all the stories I got my facts from, as well as some key Yuzuru focussed readings if you want to learn more hehe. Saying that, I talk about Yuzuru’s past pre-military because it starts off as a wild backstory even before we get to the slightly more unhinged stuff. He was born into a family of butlers, and thus was fated to work for the Himemiyas and serve them… WHAT???? Yuzuru’s family are essentially slaves, and we know next to nothing about his parents. So many enstars characters are highlighted for having abusive families as an aspect of their abnormality and the weirdness with which they were raised, but yuzuru never gets brought up amongst those. How does this scenario even happen in the modern world???? I am SO CONFUSED and we have basically no answers. Does Yuzuru get paid?????? He’s been a butler since he was BORN so… probably not?? Is he essentially a slave???????? I suspect maybe!! We already know the Himemiyas are NOT EXACTLY THE EPITOME OF MORAL CORRECTNESS (see: they run an orphanage that filters into a fucking military training facility) so I would not put it past them. So- backstory and utter weird environment to be raised in? CHECK!!!! Yuzuru might have been raised in the weirdest environment out of all enstars characters except perhaps Kanata. Or joint weirdest WITH Kanata!! He grew up being trained to be perfect and to be entirely subservient. He had no interaction with peers, no downtime, doesn’t even have his own house given he lives at the Himemiya’s mansion. It’s absolutely insane if you stop and think about it for more than five seconds, and no one ever seems to talk about it??? Yuzuru Fushimi, man.
And we don’t know much about Yuzuru during this time (probably for good reason- he is cagey about anything that makes it look like he doesn’t enjoy his role and boy does this time include those feelings!), but we do know from Tori that he was not naturally talented at being a butler, would make loads of mistakes, and would hide in the shadows and cry over it. Yuzuru was just a KID. He’s only one year older than Tori, but he was expected to perfectly master pretty much every skill ever. He’s way too over-competent at seemingly everything, and as easy as that is to attribute to the military training…. a lot of stuff doesn’t make sense for that. He was trained to do e v e r y t h i n g. Child abuse, yay!! That’s essentially what it is when you think about it!! Were his parents trapped like this too?? How did his parents meet?? Are they the ones trapping him in this role, or is it the Himemiyas??? Because Yuzuru certainly seems to believe that his parents hold the authority, but idk how much of that is a biased perspective from what Yuzuru saw and knew as a child.
Okay. I think I’ve set the scene for why Yuzuru is insane and weird as fuck. I’d also like to give a brief breather from the agonising lore (bc it’s military time next) to let you all know that I’m writing this whilst desperately smacking auto-live bc I’m grinding for Ghostic Treat House Yuzuru <3 fine I love you <3
That’s all the reprise you get, trauma time again! So, you’re probably aware if you only watched the enstars anime to gain familiarity with ! era lore that Yuzuru spent time at a military facility with his good childhood friend Ibara (he would stab me for saying that lol). But that’s not all! So yes, Yuzuru was sent to the Himemiya’s military facility, where they were actually trained for wars, given the Himemiya’s army are actively fighting ppl during the events of Primavera (lol so much for me saving references to the end). Did Ibara and Yuzuru actually see the battlefield? Textual evidence would suggest perhaps, because Ibara mentions it being funny how a man who can face enemy forces alone is afraid of dogs. But that could be a metaphor and it may have just been training. Either way, definitely had to learn battle relevant skills and were given brutal training. But that’s still not all! From what we can gather from Yuzuru’s internal musings (although he is a somewhat unreliable narrator like 50% of the time tbh), he was sent to the military facility to learn better discipline so he’d stop acting up and play the role of a butler properly. This, combined with the crying when he messed up, gives two plausible reasons for him being sent. 1. he was considered too incompetent and the military was supposed to train him to be more competent as a butler, or 2. he was acting out big style and they wanted to quite literally beat him into submission so he’d treat his role more seriously. There is a scarier third possibility here, but that’s coming hehe don’t worry (: 
What happened when Yuzuru got to the military? Because so far yeah this is a wild situation but it doesn’t highlight Yuzuru’s utter insanity quite as well as I advertised. Ohohoho, don’t worry. Yuzuru was somehow so naturally gifted at being in the fucking military (whilst not being naturally gifted at being a butler, I remind you all!!) that he rose up to leadership and became an instructor IMMEDIATELY. He was in charge of Ibara, and assumably other people too, despite being the same age as him (and quite probably younger than others). Is it possible he rose through the ranks because of his status? No not really. He’s a butler to the Himemiyas, not an actual family member!! And he’s essentially been cast out by them, so why would they care?? It’s also implied and makes all Yuzuru lore add up if he was just… incredibly and terrifyingly talented with weaponry, fighting, tactics, etc etc don’t ask me what military things are important i don’t know. So I’m choosing to believe that the lore all checks out and that Yuzuru was made an instructor because he was freakishly good. Now about his role as an instructor!! 
Most of our info does come from Ibara which is… likely to be negatively biased, but we also have actual flashback scenes which legitimately support Ibara’s perception. Which was, in short, that Yuzuru’s training was spartan. He was harsh and ruthless and ruled with an iron fist… but he also genuinely cared about his pupils (and again, we infer that he had multiple bc he calls Ibara his favourite pupil. Although funny if he’s his fave by default lmao). The military is also the first time Yuzuru gets the chance to be a kid, which is ironic given he is AN INSTRUCTOR IN THE MILITARY. But he gets the chance to sit and talk with Ibara in between training and attempting to murder each other (which is like the closest thing to playing tag that Yuzuru has ever participated in, I reckon). I could write a separate essay about how important Ibara and Yuzuru are to each other, but that’s for another day (pls pls pls ask me to write it pls i just need the excuse). 
We find out some interesting things from Yuzuru’s conversations with Ibara. He hopes to die on the battlefield to show his parents (haha remember that scary third option…. what if this was their plan HAHAHAH). He wants to die out of spite, and he wants to die for the freedom. He hopes he never has to return and be a butler again. He feels free at the military camp, which is ironic given the intent was to trap him there to teach him a lesson. It’s also ironic, given both Ibara and Yuzuru refer to the training camp as an awful, horrible place. 
That definitely isn’t the end of me talking about Yuzuru and military experience, but it is the end of it in this linear fashion I’m taking to explain why Yuzuru is so fucked up and weird and insane.
So, he returns from the military! Read: he is forcibly taken back to the Himemiya mansion. And when he returns, Tori cries and hugs him and begs him to never leave again because he was so lonely without Yuzuru and scared etc etc. And we know that Yuzuru looked at him crying and decided that actually, this was something worth treasuring and putting his life towards. Tori was worth serving- he cared about Tori and wanted to protect him, and he had the abilities now (and probably always) to do exactly that. Was this inspired by Ibara saying he just wanted something to treasure and dedicate his life towards keeping/obtaining? Yep!!! Same story!!! Yuzuru took Ibara’s goal and went ‘snatched, mine now’ but fr… they had such an impact on each other. So, Yuzuru is ‘happily’ being a butler now. In other words, he’s taking his fate and making it his decision, as much as he can (or probably to convince himself hmmm). But where’s the insanity here, before we reach idol time? Well, here we discover that Yuzuru contemplates murdering Tori multiple times!! As a means of escape? As a reflexive urge to kill that he’s developed/been suppressing all along? Who knows! I still can’t quite believe that this is even canon but yeah!!! It’s not always a joke when Yuzuru says scary things to Tori and threatens him with weapons! He has legitimately contemplated murdering him!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yuzuru Fucking Fushimi, folks!!!!!!!!
This section is also where I’d like to discuss Yuzuru’s fear of dogs, because he also had to acquaint himself with King (Tori’s dog) during these years. Do you know the reason why Yuzuru’s afraid of dogs? I hear you ask, because I am inside your walls rn. Was there an incident? At the Himemiya’s? At the military camp? No!!! Tori says he’s literally always been afraid of dogs, and Yuzuru confirms this and gives us an explanation as to why! He says that dogs are inherently ferocious hunters- killers at heart- and yet they wear an innocent, harmless mask of being ‘man’s best friend’, covering up the human lives they have taken and are easily capable of taking at the smallest provocation. He fears dogs because he fears their true nature that they’re hiding behind their perceived harmlessness. They’ve masked their bloodlust with domestic obedience- a facade many dogs have tricked themselves into understanding as reality. When I thought about Yuzuru’s explanation for about five minutes before I started this essay, it suddenly slid into place in a way I’d never studied Yuzuru’s fear of dogs before.
Yuzuru fears himself. This checks out with the dog metaphors he makes of himself, of Ibara, that Ibara makes about Yuzuru and of himself. Obedient lapdog, untrained mutt, guard dog etc. etc. The parallels were right there. Yuzuru is an obedient lapdog for Tori… but he’s a predator by nature. A born killing machine whom everyone trusts without hesitation because of the loyal and obedient facade he parades, convincing even himself is reality. Yuzuru is afraid of the hunter he is and when his true nature might escape. I don’t read it as a ‘being afraid of when others will find out that he’s secretly evil’ sort of situation. More a ‘being afraid of when he won’t be able to stop himself & the mask will disintegrate forever and reveal the hunter within. Being afraid of when he might attack’. Ouch. Yuzuru can I give you therapy pls I’m begging. ANYWAY Tori then gets into idols and Yuzuru is dragged along to fine shows, and when Eichi sees him in the audience (ignoring the fact that his first thought is ‘damn that bitch fine as fuck, i love a guy with blue hair purple eyes and a ponytail, smash’), he says Yuzuru looks wild and rugged (i’m going off memory I cba getting Daydream up just trust xoxo), which is interesting given he’s trying his best to be a loyal butler right now. He’s not quite mastered the mask at this point, I suspect. Other things we know from this era are that Yuzuru helped sneak Tori out to go to karaoke as idol practice. I wonder how he felt getting to sing and dance for the first time.
Fun fact in case you hadn’t noticed by now- I’m not very good at staying on topic bc I loooove to go on random tangents of character analysis. I swear this is still about how Yuzuru is the weirdest enstars character… somehow….
So! We’ve finally reached canon timeline in the chronological part of this essay (HOW LONG IS THIS THING GONNA BE?? I hear you worry because, once again, i am in your walls). Yuzuru joins fine yayyy and he’s a transfer student to Yumenosaki given he’s just following Tori. So… did he even go to school before??? Given he has to follow Tori??? Did he take a year out? I’’m so curious as to Yuzuru’s history because how tf did his childhood work? He passes the fine test easily bc turns out he’s also very naturally talented as an idol. He’s very physically fit so it’s unsurprising. What’s sooo fun to know about his joining fine, though, is that he immediately knows exactly what Eichi is like, immediately gets links with the StuCo and joins Keito’s club to get In There with the top people (networking innit and also… club with bow and arrows. Tsukasa confirms he’s freakishly good wow who would’ve guessed Yuzuru would be so naturally talented with a weapon), and apparently immediately developed an escape plan for him and Tori so that if Eichi ever tried to destroy them, he could take Tori and dip. I wonder if that escape plan is still in place, now! Anyway, we also learn in this era that Yuzuru starts to love being an idol and finds he’s genuinely enjoying it. However, the reasons he’s enjoying it are… not exactly normal. He loves being an idol because he’s surprised that it’s able to spur the human emotions of anger and frustration within him (basically, he’s surprised that being an idol brought out his painstakingly buried emotions). We also learn that he’s extremely envious that Tori and Eichi were able to escape their fates laid out by their parents to pursue being idols, but he immediately tries to suppress thoughts like this. The difference between having money and not, huh? Tori and Eichi could escape. Yuzuru was always going to be trapped :( Yuzuru also starts to experience having friends for the first time (does Ibara count as a friend?? It was way wilder and more insane than that) so essentially Yuzuru’s first ever experience of normal teenager things is when he is 16/17. But at least he gets to have a pillow fight and absolutely destroy everyone! And get yelled at by a teacher!! Proud of him for having fun. 
This era is also where we get Yuzuru completely lying to himself, us, and his peers. Everyone is quite conscious of getting Yuzuru to enjoy his life outside of being Tori’s butler, and he’s very much manipulated everyone (including the audience even though we can compile the evidence to discover otherwise) into believing that he’s always been such a loyal and simple butler with no thoughts of his own aside from those that are wishes to serve his master. We know this isn’t true… and yet Yuzuru tries to convince us and everyone in the story that this is reality, to the point that we get people being proud of Yuzuru for coming so far. We get Tori being proud of him! And feeling guilty for him always sacrificing his life for him. Ugh I love Tori actually. The second I started reading stories about Tori and Yuzuru it hit how much guilt Tori has over Yuzuru’s fate and AGHHHH oops I got sidetracked again. Anyway. Yuzuru’s an unreliable narrator and that’s important to his weirdness, because he hides his true utter insanity from even us as the audience!! He lies to himself, to us, to his peers, everyone!!! You cannot fool me, Yuzuru Fushimi. I see through you. I’ve figured out your utter unhingedness. The complete juxtaposition between the very ordinary bland background character you depict yourself as versus the utter fucking WEIRDO that you actually are <3
Moving onto !! era, Yuzuru introduces himself in the main story by being INSANE and everyone seems to forget about it? The first thing he does is discuss how beneficial it is to show up first to important events and prepare the drinks because you gain the upper hand of knowing you could’ve poisoned them and everyone knows you could have, but that he’d never do that because everyone would indeed know it was him. And that’s one of the joys of being a butler! HELLO??? YUZURU WTF BABE????? But that’s always just glanced over. Also there’s the whole insanity of Eichi reminding us that Ibara is the only person whom Yuzuru shows this other side of himself around, and by that we mean the side where he… openly threatens extreme physical violence. Also frontline watchdogs happens. And we learn that Yuzuru still very obviously cares about Ibara gahhh. Anyway, back to insanity time, Wataei are kinda mean to Yuzuru in this era, because they do end up toying with him quite a bit, and we get a lot of Yuzuru dealing with thoughts regarding the Himemiyas and the impact of ES and stuff, because he can’t even just be an idol, he’s also essentially in charge of Tori’s responsibilities until Tori is ready, AND he’s becoming an actor because wow how surprising he’s really good at fighting roles and getting into character (sarcasm, bc… it is not surprising. hey who wants to hear me scream into a forest about wataru and yuzuru and facades it’ll be super fun I promise). Other insane stuff includes the time Yuzuru thinks Ibara is holding Tori hostage so he walks into a room and straight up STRANGLES IBARA because he knows how Ibara responds to being tortured for info so knows he’ll get the truth here. He also proceeds to reveal he’s learnt vocal mimicry from Wataru and will fuck shit up if Ibara tries anything using that trick (how did he learn that???? Plus Wataru is cagey about teaching new skills so it is either an omg yay wataru and yuzuru getting close moment or a…. yuzuru did you just analyse his ability and somehow replicate it??). Also in this era, we learn that Yuzuru accompanies Eichi with a lot of business related things, because of course he gets to be involved in the big ES happenings, and that he’s become wayyy more petty and rude to Eichi. It’s a big step for Yuzuru, who’s been forced to be so polite to his superiors. Like can you believe it. The Himemiyas’ butler being rude and passive aggressive and turning down THE Eichi Tenshouin?? He’s wild for that, but he knows Eichi well enough to know he’s safe because Eichi loves it. Yuzuru is so good at reading people. Oh yeah the other !! era moment I was going to mention was the time he took both Adonis and Hiiro in a fight. Canonically strong guys with training in martial arts/defensive techniques. And he legit scared Hiiro with how suddenly his demeanour changed from passive butler to ‘don’t hold back on me >:)’ oooo I love the utter thrill he always gets when he can go all out and attack people!! He’s so fucked up!!
And now on the theme of that, we have !!! era, because pretty much all he’s done since this new era began is fight people. In his cross scout with Kaoru, he gets disappointed in himself when Nagisa outruns him. It’s interesting to note that despite the lack of practice of his abilities Yuzuru gets outside of situations often purposefully set up so he can fight (usually by Eichi and/or Wataru like the incident in Fist of Idol Togenkyo), he still assumes himself to be… the best at any sort of combat out of everyone in his current environment. Do you know what I would give to see Yuzuru and Kuro fight??? I would LOVE to witness it, but I know neither of them would be willing to go all out on each other :(. So when Nagisa ends up out-running/outmanoeuvring him, he’s peeved. Like it’s not a surprise given Nagisa is genetically created to be The Best at Everything, but damn, how highly does Yuzuru think of his own combat abilities? It never really hit me until this point. Not only is he trained at combat, but he very much thinks/knows he’s good at it, and essentially takes pride in that fact? He’s such an interesting critter. Then we have the shuffle unit, too, where Yuzuru gets to go all out and apprehend a thief and he VISIBLY has fun doing it, as well as internally discussing as much. But we also have textual proof from someone else (a random director) that Yuzuru’s ‘snap’ is a thing. He can switch between this polite, passive butler and a bloodthirsty beast in SECONDS, and the joy he feels from being a vicious hunter is probably palpable. Other people can see him essentially change mask at the flip of a switch and become someone else entirely, and it’s wild. The fact Niki is the other person who does this is also beautiful because Niki in hunger mode is also a terrifying bloodthirsty beast. Can’t believe he won most normal, even with CrazyB being CrazyB.
I’ve finally covered somewhat of a chronological series of events for Yuzuru’s character that have led to the juicy stuff of why I view him as the straight up weirdest and least normal character. Whilst that was a lot of character analysis to do with who he is at his core, as well as his background and where he’s at mentally and in terms of progression in the story, now is for a beautiful collection of utterly unhinged things he’s said/done that make me go ‘what the FUCK Yuzuru’. Which, admittedly, I do a LOT. 
he MCs for the new year live featuring Trickstar and Akatsuki and decides to fuck around with Keito because he looks too serious. He then gets drunk on the joy of fucking with Keito and just keeps screwing with the scoring system and everything whilst Keito is seething with the betrayal
he used to genuinely think his drawings were lovely, but then according to others they looked like ‘horrifying yokai thirsting for blood’, ‘vegetables committing cannibalism’ or just ‘makes [them] anxious looking at it’ so wtf is actually wrong with his perception???
has said he feels the urge to kill Tori sometimes, but ‘a true gentleman suppresses his anger’…. JUST SIT WITH THAT ONE FOR A WHILE
He’s said he wants to dissect Wataru… medically… bc of his stamina levels
He’s also threatened to take Wataru to a secluded area and cut off each of his fingers with a bradawl. YUZURU??????
Nagisa is surprised at his dexterity when he very competently ties Jun to a pillar
He cleans ES and Yumenosaki in secret because he doesn’t trust other people to do it right. Not the most insane thing ever but it adds to his issues. Also cleaning is his favourite thing to do. Cleaning. This man has a body count and I mean in the murder sense
He loves to draw even though he’s shit at it. It’s just really funny to me that he’s very dexterous and talented at pretty much everything except the one hobby he wants to have
He can pilot a helicopter- only he and Madara are known to be capable of this
He’s the best at archery and at using firearms in Yumenosaki. And most likely ES. But he’s careful not to show off his talent and ‘true nature’ because he’s an idol and doesn’t want to scare people off
He has abs. Multiple characters have commented on this. Koga has felt them up
When he gets lost in thought he tightens his grip ridiculously tight. Figured this out due to him subconsciously tightening his grip on both Ibara’s neck during SS and Tori’s clothes during Resort Live
He speaks overly politely, but with the exact same dialect as Ibara which- i’m gonna lose my linguist status for the way I’m about to butcher this- from what I can gather is easy to interpret in a rude and sharp/passive aggressive tone. I’m going off characters who say Ibara and Yuzuru speak exactly the same, and the way Rei and Eichi highlight how Yuzuru says polite words but they’re very rude and barbed despite the politeness
His dancing is sharp and impeccable and his physical abilities are apparently ridiculously impressive, far above what would ever be expected of a butler (who’s surprised?)
His administrative abilities are incredible because he’s just overall a freakish genius apparently
He can completely hide his presence. He managed to scare Nagisa during the recent Halloween event and Nagisa is a very literal freak of nature who has been lab made to be a perfect specimen with like every skill ever soooooo terrifyingly impressive imo
Now, to conclude this insanity is my main point as to why Yuzuru takes the cake as the most insane enstars character to me. And whilst yes it’s obvious from all of this that he’s absolutely batshit insane, so are many other characters, but the reason my vote goes to Yuzuru over anyone else is because of the disparity between his public perception vs. who he is. And I mean both in game and out of game. I asked my lovely partner whose biggest flaw is not giving a flying fuck about my beloved Yuzuru Fushimi no matter how many times I yell about him what their opinion was of Yuzuru prior to knowing my insanity about him. I’d like to highlight that my partner is a big fan of Ibara, so knew about Yuzuru’s backstory at least, but was otherwise oblivious to most fine lore outside the main story, being a CrazyBP. My girlfriend said that, to them, Yuzuru was just a mild mannered butler who doesn’t come across as a big personality, especially next to the rest of fine. She said he’s very overshadowed when you have 2 characters very in-your-face personality wise and Eichi Fucking Tenshouin in your unit. Further thoughts were that whilst some characters you can soak up information of via osmosis, Yuzuru isn’t one of them.
And this was INSANE to me. Because how is it possible to be an Ibara fan and a NikiP who loves Niki’s kitchen and somehow no Yuzuru lore has seeped into your awareness???? And this is what makes me go oh yeah. Yuzuru is the least normal character from a character perspective as well as within the narrative. How do you write a character THIS INSANE with this many unhinged things being said and done in pretty much any story he shows up in, but the fandom who don’t pay attention to him just,,, completely miss it all and view him EXACTLY AS HE TRIES TO PRESENT HIMSELF TO OTHER CHARACTERS: as a mild-mannered, overly polite butler who loves servitude?? Yuzuru Fushimi has not only bewitched the characters into believing his facade, but he’s thoroughly hoodwinked the general audience of ensemble stars too. No one believes Wataru to be normal and casual, and arguably he’s the most normal of fine (at least in terms of upbringing, consistency, motivations etc….. but also he is literally me and i’ve been told I’m devastatingly Not Normal, so maybe that doesn’t count). No one would claim to call Kanata normal. No one thinks HiMERU or Mayoi or Shu & Mika, or the twins are normal. Everyone knows, at least in part, how insane they are, whether they produce the unit and know the lore or not. But Yuzuru!!!! He has fooled you all!!!! He has fooled everyone, and that’s exactly what he wants to do but exactly what he is terrified of doing, too. He fears the utter insanity inside him, but he’s also desperate for any chance he can find to unleash it and, for lack of a better phrase, go beast mode.
Yuzuru Fushimi, folks. He is one hell of a character and I hope you’ve enjoyed my ridiculously long essay on exactly why he is the craziest son of a bitch in ensemble stars. At least to me <3
And now for an incomplete list of references because I legit forget where half my knowledge comes from, I just read it once and forever absorb it into my brain:
! Era:
RESORT LIVE!!! lots of Yuzuru insight
Noble game. A lot of Yuzuru, specifically within his Butler context
GANG!!!! This is the backstory & ibayuzu lore story and it kills me every time
Flower Fes. Not huge on Yuzuru lore but gives an insight into his beginnings at Yumenosaki
Toyland. Yuzuru’s drawings and feelings about being an idol come up here. As well as Tori’s guilt about Yuzuru
School Trip. Aka Yuzuru unreliable narrator the novel
!! Era:
FRONTLINE WATCHDOGS!!!! It’s the Ibayuzu lore of !! era. !!’s answer to Gang
SS finals. It’s really long so specifically the chapters with Ibara and Yuzuru are where the lore is
Fist of Idol Togenkyo. I didn’t mention it much here but it covers Yuzuru’s acting and fighting quite well
Tempest & Primavera are the fine stories that discuss Yuzuru’s current role in ES and Tori’s life best but I didn’t reference them loads
Fair Waltz. It’s a short scout story but it’s so good for Yuzuru & Eichi dynamic & Yuzuru fighting
Grand Slam. There’s like one chapter during the sports festival about Yuzuru and guns lol
Yuzuru idol story episode 3. Ibayuzu reflect on their past & I cry
Seasoning as you like (Niki idol story). Niki’s kitchen revealing some of Yuzuru’s violent tendencies
!!! Era
Intelligence. Cross scout with Kaoru where the Nagisa incident happens
Ballade of the Lost Ones. Shuffle Unit!!!! Yuzuru goes wild!!!
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strawbbcake · 2 days ago
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I'm european, and I don't trust myself to throw around facts about usa politics, so I'm just gonna shut my mouth about this. I do wish kamala would've won tho, that's the only thing I'll say
anyway, I do want to complain about the politics in my country. sorry for anything that might not make sense. translating this is a bit hard ngl.
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here, in austria, we had elections for the national council a while back. a party named fpö won. fpö stands for "freedom party austria." it's a right extremist party, standing for the traditional hetero family, against immigrants, against abortion and its overall pretty extreme and problematic.
the politician Herbert Kickl, which is part of fpö, often comes across as extremely aggressive, in my opinion. "Festung Österreich" which basically means "fortress austria" seems to be his idea of the perfect austria. he'd like to close the borders and send immigrants to other countries. (more on that in a sec)
his claims are so problematic sometimes, it's insane. he is the type of person that just complains and hates and throws insults around. he thinks climate change doesn't exist (or if it does, isn't man-made), and has some problematic claims that you can research if you want, I don't want this to get too long.
as of coming across as aggressive, he often reminds (not only me but a lot of ppl) of Hitler at his speeches. he calls himself "Volkskanzler" (Idk how to correctly translate that), which, surprise surprise, the nazis called Hitler. this isn't a controversial opinion of mine, as wild as it may sound, a lot of people think this way
coming back to the deportation of immigrants, the party wants to deport criminal or illegal immigrants. I understand that, yes, but it truly isn't just criminal immigrants. anyone that I know, that is a fan of the fpö, is very hateful of any immigrant at all. "if they work, they can stay". sometimes people coming here have to wait a long ass time to even be able to go work.
one thing I don't understand about this at all is all the boys my age that think it's cool to vote for this party. they're either not austrian themselves or have a ton of friends that aren't. pisses me off a lot
at the end I wanna talk about the election posters?? they're weird as fuck, if I can say so. I'll try my best to translate some.
"your will be done" - which is a verse in the bible and a christian song
"the only one on your side" - self explanatory
stuff like that. I just find them weird and uncomfortable because most of them are just plain white with big blue font on top, but that's just my opinion. what's really noticeable tho, is that almost 80% of the posters I see are scribbled on or ripped, which really says a lot. I've never seen a drawn on poster from another party. things I've seen on there are "nazi pigs" "no 4th reich" "fascists",....going on like that.
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anyways, if you've read all that... thank you? I don't really expect anyone to. I just really wanted to rant about this. maybe it's nice for people outside of austria to see how politics are going here, I'm not sure if Americans, for example, have any clue about this. if I said anything that's incorrect, feel free to correct me anytime. I don't mind at all as long as no one insults me.
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kfedup · 1 year ago
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Five for Friday
Let's get a little thematic this morning; things I am learning about.
Ancestral trauma - I'm halfway through the reading and exercises in the book It Didn't Start With You, How Inherited Family Trauma Shapes Who We Are, and How to End the Cycle by Mark Wolynn. In tandem, I'm building out my family tree on ancestry.com and have traced my father's father's side back to Little Compton, RI in the 1600s. These birth, death, and census records are insufficient storytellers, but it's at least a foundation. I'm so angry and sad that I have no ties to anyone on that side of my family. Nobody talks about our ancestry. Nobody talks about anything. No relating to my relations. No big revelations in the book yet, either, but it's helping me talk to myself in a far more compassionate way and to see those who have already passed away with similar compassion.
Movement - through weekly one-on-one pilates coaching, a daily morning practice of pilates, yoga, stretching, and several walks a day, I'm bringing more awareness to the space my body takes up in the world. I'm noticing the ways gravity anchors me when I'm still and when I'm in motion. I'm slowly working through the workbook Body and Earth: An Experiential Guide by Andrea Olsen, which is full of science, art, exercises, beautiful creative writing, and a call to bring our presence to our existence in a body on this Earth.
Attachment - I'm enjoying a tender, raw, vulnerable, and hopeful energy exchange with a man I've known (and had a ridiculously huge secret crush on) for nearly a decade. He lives in the PNW and is in a more complicated situation than me, which has activated my anxious attachment. The day before he expressed his desire to be close to me while visiting Kent for an event a few weeks ago, I'd said to my therapist that I felt ready to work on the anxious attachment patterns that have contributed to the cratering of my relationships. The universe is working quickly these days. So I am rising to it and sitting with these difficult feelings of abandonment, of not good enough, of not enough, of hopelessness that accompanies this sweet ongoing exchange. I'm determined to not carry this forward with me as an unexamined pattern of reaction and behavior. Awareness is everything.
Meditation - I think it's been six months that I've sat meditation at least 5 mornings a week after I exercise. Sometimes unguided, just following my in-breath and out-breath and bringing myself back to that without judgment when my thoughts arise, as they will, perpetually. I often use guided meditations from the Ten Percent Happier app, which I cannot recommend highly enough. Hate the name, but the courses are wonderful and the guided meditations are like having a mini retreat wherever I am in the moment. I'll do quick 5-10 min meditations in between work calls or before I start cooking dinner. The guides are highly experienced meditation teachers whose voices feel like home to me. Best app purchase I've ever made. And I notice that I am more naturally bringing mindful attention to so many moments that I'm not sitting meditation. I'm doing dishes, sitting at my desk writing, walking the dog, tidying up the living room, and I'm aware of the feeling of my body, of my breath, of the sensation of having sensation. I think I'm beginning to understand in small slivers what it really means to be here now and honestly, this is kind of all I want to do anymore. I'm thinking about going away to a silent retreat soon.
Humility - at least I think that's the focus here. I'm practicing holding space and listening without waiting for my chance to speak, without trying to solve people's problems, and without interjecting my own narrative into their story. I notice I'm doing this nearly daily with my sister who is in the midst of very challenging mental health issues with my niece. All I want to do is go there and help in concrete, tangible ways, but she said no and I have to repeatedly trust that she knows what's best for her and her family and my only job is to hold space filled with love. Period. Ended.
Bonus - my Mom has said repeatedly in recent years that she's not interested in learning anything new. I think she's afraid of failure, afraid that she doesn't have the mental faculties to retain anything, and she's frozen by anxiety and depression that she refuses to do anything about. I'm trying to have compassion for her, but at the same time, I notice that her negativity has been a huge driver of my deep dive into self-awareness and growth. I wish I didn't have to grind my cog of the capitalism wheel so I could spend all of my time exploring what it means to be a soul having an embodied human experience. I refuse to give up like that.
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meamiiikiii · 7 months ago
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i offer one (1) clown nose loop today
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autumnoakes · 5 months ago
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can i say it now?
sage of time/time powers didn't make sense for totk zelda. at ALL.
when in botw, before the calamity, in aoc, did she EVER show an affinity for time powers? i get that it was like this sort of. hidden power kind of thing, but it still doesn't make much sense. not for zelda.
#not to mention. light dragon still.#like..... it doesn't make sense in my head.#i would have understood it if it were link who was sage of time. because he canonically has magic related to time#(e.g. flurry rush. bullet time. plus connections to the hero of time)#they could have made a banger design with time themes for dragon zelda. im just saying#and i get kind of trying to connect her with sonia a bit but idk.#i TRIED to bring this up back when totk first released but people didnt like that very much#i think both zelda and link are connected to time and light but they each have more of a connection to one over the other#like. okay. dragon of time zelda. yes?#phases in and out of existance at will. sometimes she's seen at the two different places at the same time. maybe more.#her appearance is pretty unpredictable. the average hylian who has no clue what the dragon spirits are talk about things going missing#weird things happening whenever the dragon of time flies overhead#legend of zelda#tears of the kingdom#totk spoilers#idk if people still care but it was more expensive than usual so#negativity#i feel bad for making this post after bitching about people being too harsh about totk#and people were. i was hyperfixating and legit could not talk about it because people were horrible about it to me#which genuinely ruined a lot of my experiences online last year#its really hard to try and reframe it as “all that matters is that you enjoy it and what other people think shouldn't affect that”
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hacksawboy · 1 year ago
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not enough talk about this photo of costas. look at this shit. hes sitting there like hes on a rap album cover. hes got a nypd outfit AND a beanie on, literaly just put a joint in his hand and he'll look exactly like a photo you'd see in a retrospective documentary about a famous 80s rap artist. he looks like hes about to pop up in the studio and drop some certified jigsaw warehouse classics
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lurking-latinist · 6 months ago
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#after uh. not enjoying hornblower: loyalty all that much I finally watched hornblower: duty#and enjoyed it a lot more. I think there's meta there with mutiny/retribution#I gather they were sort of not allowed to mention kennedy but you know that makes sense in-universe.#horatio isn't allowed to mention him either. not really. and I do think he'd clam up about him. that's horatio all over#but you can't convince me that survivor's guilt of his is only over bracegirdle#(bracegirdle makes it worse obviously)#also his letting doughty off really makes me want it to have been him that pushed sawyer#I always want it to have been him just because so much of his later career either makes more sense or has additional dramatic irony#if he knows himself to be an unhanged mutineer#BUT he doesn't have to have actually done it. he just has to THINK he is guilty#for instance - recently aubreysmaturin made a pretty good case for it having been Wellard in the books#but if it's Wellard--then Horatio's gone down a path of 'I was his senior officer I was responsible to have stopped him I wanted Sawyer dea#so basically I am guilty' - because again that is what it is to be a Horatio Hornblower.#(in fact another clue pointing to Wellard is that the universe always seems to bend to keep Hornblower's hands clean#like that time he lied that the war was over only to later find out that in fact unbeknownst to him it was over.#he gets the thing he guiltily wanted and he gets it without actually doing the guilty thing and so no one will blame him#except his own conscience)#anyway that's the books. I don't think it was Wellard in the show#I'm not sure what I think happened in the show#but whatever it was Horatio *feels* responsible#I'm not saying that's *why* he let Doughty off but I think there's a kind of secret symmetry there#hornblower
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wackpedion · 7 months ago
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how do you think seth and makoto would get along?
I think that they would be pretty nice and cordial with eachother, but it would be a pretty surface level relationship. Makoto would probably keep him at a distance and not share anything about his life for Makoto reasons, meanwhile I imagine Seth is largely indifferent to him
. i mean in theory i can see Seth caring more and latching onto him as an authority figure, wanting to please and follow orders all that, but like Yomi is kinda taking up that spot atm sooo i dont rlly see it happening. kinda interesting to think of tho cuz i think its funny to imagine Seth being like "woah an authority figure whos not mean to me.. thats sso amazing" meanwhile Makoto doesn't even remember his lastname and doesn't care to
i can see the 2 like, enjoying a tea party tho ngl, talking all about how they hate Yomi (thats mostly Seth Makoto just nods along and sideglances the framed photos he has of him sitting just a few feet away)
also random hc but i like to think like, Seth often accidentally/subconsciously calls Makoto 'masked freak' or some shit, he just does it without thinking, what being around yomi hellsmile and being subjected to his rants does to a mf (hes so tired man. so tired)
anyway thank u alfie i consulted them on this cuz im no makoto expert and if i were to mischaracterize a character from my hyperfixation id simply die . so naturally i wanted to avoid that
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kucherovv · 4 months ago
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college summer break is kind of just school assigned rumination time. like enjoy 4 months off to do fuckall and spend hours thinking about your trauma
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sevicia · 8 months ago
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I wanted to make a cleaner summary of last week's classes and also review the classes I have this week since the material is already uploaded beforehand but I was feeling so horrible throughout the day that when I sat down I was just gonna look at the ones for tomorrow but I think I'm just gonna go to bed because I just gave my little numbers game a few tries and not even the joy of tribial elementary school-level math games is bringing my brain cells and/or full sentience back
#diary#accessing it through the CMD thing and not just running it from the IDE made me realize a few things about it though so I'll hav#I'll have to maybe jot them down somewhere when I'd normally just be rly excited and try to fix them straight away like I am truly fucked r#I do wanna make an eng version of it sometime soon so I can share it even tho it's literally the simplest little thing. it's fun if you're#an easily amused nerd that loves playing with numbers in a truly useless manner. if that makes sense#also very obviously text-only I am NOT torturing myself with any graphics of ANY kind rn#it closes immediatly as they do and also when it comes to having double/triple digit starting numbers it becomes a lot less fun I think tho#though I haven't used it much with those yet#I still wanna figure out a way of making it better when it comes to 2/3 digit starters. and my original idea included maybe keeping track#keeping track of how many steps you took even between different rounds but I made the simplest version for now. I also think making like a#''this was the least amount of steps possible!'' type thing would be very very cool but that is FAR too big brained for me rn#cause I can figure out how to do the record keeping thing but that last one is like. let's stop talking for a little while.................#oh but adding an actual interface sounds so fun even though I have very little clue on how to do that rn I could probably STOP typing becau#because I can feel my stupid ass self start getting excited about this which will make it so I start working on it instead of going to bed#NO. DOWN !!!!!!!!!!!!!! auhgh............ oh man I had a lame joke to make but I completely forgot what it was#I have coding class tomorrow in which I normally just do the exercises as fast as possible before playing around but the only Python editor#I could find installed on the school computers was Visual Studio Code and I have no clue how to use that shit like I don't need so many#so many buttons. probz. OKAY GOODNIGHT
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cinewhore · 1 year ago
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my boss: you made a mistake at work silly teehee be sure to double check yourself!
me: ……if i don’t move they won’t see me cry
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leejeann · 2 years ago
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Being forced to recognize the constant passing of time and the unknown that looms within the future (I have to write a paper on my 1-year, 3-year, and 5-year goals as an artist for a class)
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