#comfort angst

[xxlady-lunaxx]

OBANAI HEADCANON!

He’s the type to rarely say “I love you” because of his past (spoilers ahead!)

I feel like his family would’ve said things like “This is for your own good!” and “Dw we love you a lot<3” and “It won’t hurt, i promise”—which were, of course, all empty promises

lies.

so Obanai wouldn’t see much in the use of words; finding them worthless in ways of affection

If his S/O said “I love you”

he would say, “prove it.” every time, just to make sure that it was true

he shows affection in gifts, devotion, touch, etc, but words? sorry, he doesn’t know how to make them function

at one point, his s/o would wonder if he truly loved them bc he never said it—it’d go something like:

“Are you sure you love me?”

—Obanai nodded, his bandages unraveling as he tugged on them, letting them sit on his shoulders.

“You never tell me that you do.”

—“I… do,” Obanai murmured. He pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, to your neck, your cheek.

“Can you just say it? ‘I love you’?”

—“…why?”

“Do you not?”

—“I do,” he insisted, “I do.” His hands cupped your face, he pulled you closer, pressing a fleeting kiss to your lips.

“I want to hear you say it… Please?”

—“I…” He hesitated. Fine. “I love you. I do. Okay? Better?”

“I love you too.”

—He nuzzled into your neck, closing his eyes. He hummed in response.

Sooo not very verbal in affection :3

also he’s bad at it since he can never find positive words for himself, never believing words he hears others say about himself if they’re good

so he can’t think of any that he could say and come across meaning a thousand times more than he can put into words

[n0tamused]

Not alone

Contents: Diluc Ragnvindr x GN reader, comfort angst

Words: 473

Ko-fi

The evening was stiff with the winter cold and the gloomy clouds sailing overhead. Diluc had found you in the corner of your bedroom, huddled not on the bed beside it, pressed against the wall,your arms around your knees. He didn’t need to ask to know that the weather and the recent activities brought more out of you than you cared to admit, memories opened old wounds and you were now bleeding before him. 

His gloves slip from his hands one by one as he approaches you, crouching down beside you and finding your cold hand in his warm one. His scarred fingers curl around it, bringing it up closer so his lips could press against the knuckles. His lips linger, pressed against the skin as you hide your face away in your knees, finding the world smaller and more manageable that way. It was all too much, too much, you wonder how you pushed it this far, how you found the strength to walk back home after each tiring shift, where does it all come from? It puzzled you even more why Diluc cared enough to try and comfort you, knowing how stubborn you can be. Yet, deep inside you knew it was because he was selfless in the heart of his heart. He wanted to help, not just you but everyone - his nights were spent toiling away so the people of Mondstadt remained safe. 

A cracked whimper fell from your mouth and you shrunk in on yourself further, your hand jumping from his grasp. Like a leaf against the snow you do your best to hold yourself to your roots, no matter how unpromising or cold they now have become. The storm tears at you, but you don’t give into it, even if giving into it means staying whole.

For a moment he panics, watching how you shied back into the corner of your self made prison. But his will- his need to offer you any semblance of comfort doesn’t waver and he reaches forward. His hands slowly find purchase on your shoulders, sliding around until he has you leaning forward and accepting the embrace. You sob into his chest, his layered outfit cushioning your head, the scent of winter still faintly clinging onto him. 

He is warm to the touch. Arms envelop you tighter, holding you closer, Diluc is no longer crouching before you, but he is sitting down propped up against the bed with you in his hold.

“I’m here.. I’m here..” He can be heard whispering, his nose finding the top of your head, nuzzling into your ever so gently. Fingers run through your hair, smoothing it down before he rubs at your nape, repeating the motions as you show your wounded soul to him through sniffled and hiccuped words. He listens, he understands.

You’re not alone. 

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[gothicminxx]

Satosugu x afab! Reader

Word count: 5.2K

CW: Angst with comfort, mentions of blood, major character death, polyamory, mentions of established relationship with Gojo, pet names (angel, pretty girl, my girl, sweet girl, etc.), instead of Y/N Name will be used instead, all around sad af

Part 2 here

Summary: Has a connection to the movie JJK 0, similar but not quite.

I think of Satosugu and I sob.

Hope you enjoy!

Twilight arrived over the horizon, painting the sky of soft purples mixed with pink and blue. Mountain tops capped off with sheets of white that sparkled underneath the setting sun. Silence loomed overhead with the subtle sounds of a breeze, the air crisp with a harsh bite. The grass is glacial from the previous snowfall a few hours ago.

But the world was covered in darkness as the giant hand that pertained to Satoru lay flatly over your eyes, sitting in between his legs on a rock. A habit that he had formed in recent years to mollify the bitter head of anxiety that crippled your body. When the thoughts began to race and the hammering of your heart refused to disperse from your side, Satoru placed his hand over your eyes. The rasp of his voice tickled your ear as he requested you focus, following his deep breaths, and hushed praises for succeeding. When the dark silence consumed the crevices of your brain it pacified the cavernous void that Suguru left behind. The reason for every apprehensive thought that consumed the confinements of your brain. A gaping hole resided in the depths of your pumping heart, one he had overfilled before-- a spilling pool of red wine: warm, gentle, and welcoming, the essence of pertaining to two lovers.

Satoru shared the absence of light with you simply by covering your eyes. He wore blindfolds to protect his six eyes, to keep the core of his energy balanced so as to not fatigue himself, he experienced the bliss of darkness daily listening to the calmness of his breath, the steadiness of his heart, and the sounds of his surroundings. It was peaceful when things seemed to spiral out of control, tensions at an all time high giving Satoru that moment to ease his mind. It was the only thing he could think to do to alleviate the strain of life that gnawed at you constantly like a tender cut of meat.

The coolness of this year's harsh winter stung your cheeks, penetrating at the surface to numb your whole face. You placed your hands on top of Satoru’s, holding it in place to increase the darkness, focusing on the environment you found yourself in. Snow that the wind carried tickled your skin, dampening it slightly as the flakes melted. The comfort of your puffy jacket and beanie kept you toasty to endure the frozen conditions, but in this very moment the cold brought you solace as you embraced the blackness. You could feel the warmth of Satoru’s chest radiate into your back like a warm blanket, the breeze that blew on the side of your face howled softly, swooshing of powdered snowflakes followed. The plateau you and Satoru sat in was desolate of noise, it calmed the erratic beat of your heart and soothed the harrowing thoughts in your mind.

Since Suguru’s impetuous departure from the both of you things had been difficult, words left unsaid with various questions that had gone unanswered. An empty spot on the bed that used to belong to him had now turned cold and desperately clung onto his scent, you and Satoru had found yourselves leaving that space open, as if he’d ever walk through the front door again and reclaim the life he once had. His hoodies still hung up in the closet, his toothbrush still had a spot in the holder, boxes of his favorite tea littered the cabinet-- you preferred coffee, and Satoru liked soda. Suguru’s things were left untouched in your home, things he left behind, and things you and Satoru held onto tightly; protecting the last bit of residue on those items.

Satoru snaked his free arm around, pressing his palm flatly against your abdomen, fingertips caressing the polyester fabric of the puffer jacket that adorned your frame. He gently removed his hand from your eyes as he felt you relax in his hold, leaning forward to rest his chin against your shoulder. The world had come back into your view, the sky had become a darker shade of blue accompanied by a few stars that twinkled. The sun had fully hid behind the snowy mountain range taking away the last bit of warmth it had offered in the winter months. Satoru had insisted on taking you far from the city today despite the ice on the roads, the sunken bags underneath your eyes had prompted worry that he could not ignore. You were the only thing keeping him sane since Suguru had left, Satoru had grown petrified of losing you too. He could sense the ugly cloud of melancholy looming over your head, the way you slouched at the kitchen table-- barely touching the food on your plate, a frown etched on your lips, and tears left to dry on your cheeks. The way you stared at Suguru’s spot in bed wearing one of his hoodies, the yearning and agony you felt all too evident to him that he had to get you away from home for a few hours.

He had always been better at tucking away his emotions so as to not worry you. But Satoru felt the same agony, the cavernous hole in his heart that felt as though a knife had stabbed through and ripped a chunk out. The bile that burned the back of his throat and left a bitter taste that it didn’t matter how many times he brushed his teeth; it remained. That each time he smelled Jasmine or cedar wood he immediately burst into tears, teeth piercing his bottom lip as he tried to mollify the dreary emotions that raked his body. Oftentimes he found himself wearing Suguru’s clothes, wrapping his arms around his own body and pretending as though it was Suguru comforting him. Satoru grieved the relationship that once was, in silence, wanting to be strong for you, the most precious thing in his life. You needed Satoru more than anything in moments where you barely found the strength to get out of bed. When anxiety consumed you like the last meal on earth, he had to be strong for you.

Placing a kiss to your cold cheek Satoru hummed, “You calm now, angel?” He held you tighter in his embrace, shutting his eyes to engrave every curve of your body, the warmth you provided as you sat in between his legs, and your scent. The trepidation he felt of losing you too was one that made him lose his appetite.

Leaning your head back on his shoulder, your eyes followed the depth of the night sky, each star glimmering like a diamond. With the darkness the cold in the plateau stung your face, your nose runny and icy to the touch, but you could only focus on Satoru’s arms, “Yes, shutting out the world always seems to help,” A small smile reached your lips, “Thank you.”

Intertwining your gloved hands together he brought the back to his lips placing a kiss there making your heart flutter. Since Suguru deserted his lovers, through the agony and stabbing wound in one's heart, you still had Satoru. The six eyes refused to leave your side even for a moment, clinging onto you as a sort of life support.

The anguish was evident in his cerulean eyes, deep purple bags had found their home under his eyes, hidden under a blindfold so as to not worry his students— to worry you. Even if a part of his heart clung onto the memory of Suguru, the rest was yours. Glowing sun of warmth that caressed his cheek, holding him tightly to always feel the ardor of your heart. Lulling the anxiety he felt with lingering kisses, fingers tangled in snowy white tuffs, and the sound of your sweet voice covered in honey— speaking saccharine words.

Even if he tried to hide from you, keeping his emotions tucked away in a metal safe— you knew, of course you saw right through him. Having the privilege of meeting Satoru Gojo years ago meant understanding every single emotion he felt. A strong intuition to sense when something was off, he never truly spoke about it, only on the rare occasion of dawn drawing near, his eyes half lidded, and voice coaxed of sleep that he spoke— tired of the torment of a racing mind. You would hold him tightly in your arms, resting your chin on his hair as he sobbed into your chest, allowing his emotions to ripple like a waterfall. He was yours, you wanted to be there as much as he was there for you.

His giant hand cupped your cheek, leading your lips to his. The kiss was gentle, slow, and filled with love, Satoru’s tongue was warm as it found yours, eager to taste more of you to have more of you— he couldn’t get enough. He held you tight, pressing against your abdomen as it bunched up the polyester fabric in between his fingers. His thumb caressing your cheekbone, kissing you was a piece of heaven; Satoru’s sanctuary. The way his lips connected to yours reminded him that you were perfect for him in every sense of the way. That you were still here with him.

Satoru pulled away, resting his forehead against yours to catch his breath. His eyes remained closed but a goofy smile was ever present, his heart thudding loudly he truly believed you could hear it, light pink dusted his pale skin, “My girl. Mine.” He murmured, attaching his lips to yours once more.

It was moments like these that you truly cherished, engraving his every word into your brain like a chanted prayer. Satoru was here to stay, he could not imagine parting from you; it wasn’t possible.

Together you grieved Suguru, the fallen angel that had big aspirations of changing the world for the better. Ideals that you could not see eye to eye on, the raven haired man swore up and down it was a world for his lovers. Even if it seemed selfish at the time he would burn down the entire world for you and Satoru. If it had meant taking the life of the innocent— the weak, for those he loved, he’d do it over and over again. But the question had always remained: Would either of you do the same?

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The sun blazed down on the asphalt in a persistent manner, the heat waves radiated off of the dark pavement that burned the soles of shoes. Summer was unforgiving this year, humid and sickly that shade did little to provide an escape. The metal bleachers burned to the touch from constant heat smacking against them, the grass seemed as the only comforting place to sit underneath a Japanese cedar tree. Strands of green sticking to your thighs that you regretted wearing a skirt, almost.

First grade Jujutsu students practiced their combat skill in the enormous field, sweat dripping down their faces after an hour of intense training. The new student Yuta Okkotsu showed promise— improving his cursed energy little by little. Satoru had taken a liking to him, a powerful curse that followed him around— killing those that harmed him without a second glance. Your husband had a soft spot for teenagers that had a tough life, a man that could come off as arrogant had a huge heart. A few weeks ago Satoru had come to you, announcing he would be pleading Yuta’s case to avoid an execution even if it meant losing his job. You could never argue with him, standing next to him as you petitioned for the young boy as well.

Training had gone as any other day, students complaining about the heat but refusing to go inside— each competitive. Satoru stood with Yaga on the far end of the field coaching Maki and Yuta, while you and Shoko sat under a tree watching over Toge and Panda. The smell of tobacco wafted into your nostrils as Shoko lit up another cigarette, stating it would help with her irritation as she wiped sweat from her brow. Your fingers found the roots of grass to slowly pick at it, a distraction from the unbearable heat that made your body feel as if it would combust into flames.

Leaning back on your elbows you sighed loudly, throwing your head back further into the shade to look at the intricate leaves— hiding from the wretched sun. “How much longer are we going to torture the students in this goddamn heat?” Shoko groaned beside you.

“‘Dunno, until one of us drives Yaga up the wall with our complaining.” You chuckled, “Knowing Satoru I’d say soon.”

Due to Satoru being born in the winter season the six eyes preferred the cold and icy snow over the blistering heat. He thrived at the first snowfall, dragging you out of the warmth of your cozy bed to admire the sheet of white. His long legs would race to the backyard without the proper clothing to handle the freezing temperatures, slender fingers grabbing a handful of snow to feel the cool softness on his flesh. He’d spend a few hours outside admiring it with childlike wonder, you would oftentimes fight him to come inside as if he were a husky— stubborn and flourishing in the snow. It wouldn’t surprise you if your husband was currently throwing a fit about the sweltering heat to Yaga.

Booming voices ricocheted from the trees in the field, snapping you out of your thoughts. Shoko’s ears perched giving you a confused glance as she licked her finger to put out her cigarette, “What could that be?” She wondered.

Together you stood, requesting Toge and Panda to follow along in case it happened to be something serious. Sweat decorated your brow as the impending heat found you, raising the temperature within the confinements of your body. In the distance a large bird bigger than a human flapped its wings, the radiant golden color catching in the sun, throwing its head back to emit a loud squawk from its enormous beak. Bodies of students surrounded the creature, tuffs of milky white hair came into view as his tall lanky figure pushed past bodies. From where you walked you could see the tension in his shoulders, jaw clenched, and fists white-- something was wrong.

The length of your legs began to take lager hurried strides, loud pounding rang in your ears from the erratic beating of your heart. Heads turned as you drew closer, wandering eyes with a look of confusion stared back at you, “Satoru, long time no see!” A silky voice called, sweet like honey, a soft melody to listen to. A voice that closed up your throat, heart dropping to the depths of your stomach, eyes stinging with ocean water because it had been so long since you had heard it. The voice that comforted you when a tough day crossed your path, made you laugh until you cried, talked you through it in moments of ecstasy, and spoke sweet nothings to you.

As you pushed your way into the circle Satoru stood taut, a white blindfold covered his cerulean eyes, expression hard to read but his tight jaw spoke for him. You followed his gaze, time had frozen still as long raven hair met your eyes, glistening in the light of the sun. A smile adorned his features as he greeted Satoru with an arm around Yuta’s shoulder, he had yet to notice you. It had been nearly a decade since you had seen the familiar face, had him in close radius. “Suguru?” Your voice barely above a whisper, cracking pathetically towards the end.

His attention drifted towards you, “Name, it’s been a while.” The smile he wore faded the moment brown eyes truly caught a glimpse of you, the sight nearly broke his heart. You looked on the verge of tears, the yearning to run into his arms was evident as your hand blindly reached out-- but you held back, taking a hold of Satoru’s sleeve too paralyzed to move. The white haired man placed a protective arm on your waist as if to challenge Suguru to take a step further to either of you. But in truth Satoru would break down if given the opportunity, trying his best to remain strong, to come off as intimidating to the man that ripped his heart open; you both knew this.

“Step away from those kids right now, Suguru.” Satoru’s voice held a stern edge, the man in front of him was the only one that could affect the usual confident demeanor he had.

Suguru held back a smirk as he slowly removed his arm from Yuta, “ I heard the first years were quite special, it seems you still have an eye for talent, Satoru.”

Your gaze was fixed on the raven haired man, it felt like a sick joke, one that your mind deemed fit as a punishment for past mistakes you had once made. He looked different than before, his hair was much longer, reaching his waist. The purple eye bags and look of misery that had become a part of him almost a decade ago had disappeared, his skin practically glowing, he looked happier-- cockier than the man you once knew. You wanted to be as calm as Satoru, to appear stoic and un-bothered but the air felt heavy, the lump in your throat had formed so thick that it was nearly impossible to swallow back. For a decade you still found yourself grieving his sudden departure, the closure he had refused to give you and Satoru, leaving nothing behind but memories and a freezing empty spot in bed. “What are you doing here?” You asked, voice hostile yet the sense of longing was still there.

He tore his gaze from Satoru avoiding your watery eyes over to his entourage, “I came to declare war,” Suguru put it simply, “Five days from now I’ll be in Kyoto, I hope to see you all there.”

“A war?” Shoko scoffed, “Your ideals truly have gone to your head.”

“I’m simply creating a better world.” Suguru’s words left a bitter taste in your mouth, like rusty metal that had sat out in the sun long forgotten for an extended period of time. He no longer sounded like himself, his voice remained velvety and yet, the disconnect of the man he used to be was immense. It had brought you back to the time you were once a student, noticing his distant demeanor with hazy eyes that he looked unrecognizable. He closed in on himself, shutting you and Satoru out. Most nights had been spent sleeping on the couch or too wired as he stayed up an entire night frantically scribbling gibberish in his journal-- ideas to cleanse the world of the weak. He refused the assistance of the comforting arms of his lovers, rejecting their words of reassurance. Suguru had lost a drastic amount of weight, the churning of his stomach accompanied by a burning in his throat that kept him away from consuming food. He had become a shell of himself until one day his radio silence became permanent; leaving his lovers to fend for themselves without another word.

Only for him to return months later in the crowded square of downtown Tokyo claiming that it was all for his lovers. The world he was creating was the perfect one for those he cared about, asking to accompany him in the journey of discovering it together, only to be met by your tears and Satoru’s anger. It was the irreparable end of a relationship.

Biting your bottom lip harshly, you could taste the tang of metallic blood on your tongue, holding Satoru’s sleeve tighter, only for the milky haired man to search for your hand to intertwine your fingers-- squeezing it tightly, he could feel your agony, resentment, and pining. Focusing on his features, you wanted to burn them into your memory, hold them close to your heart because you would be damned if you forgot his face, “I think it’s time for you to go, Suguru.” You muttered, digging your nails into the palm of your hand imprinting crescent moons in the flesh; fighting back the tears that threatened to spill as you urged the man that still owned half of your heart to go.

Silence loomed overhead as Suguru processed the words that escaped your lips; soft that he almost missed them, how desperately he wanted to ignore them to take you and Satoru in his arms and make things better. The version of him you had known before was gone, that man was no longer a part of who he truly was, the weak and strong simply could not co-exist. Why couldn’t either of you understand that for his own selfish reasons, this was all for you? He turned on his heel, sauntering over to the enormous bird, only turning his head enough to catch a glimpse of the two people he adored the most, “I’ll see you in Kyoto. Until next time.” With that the creature expanded its wings, descending in the air with the man that still held onto your hearts.

Satoru watched as the massive bird disappeared into nothingness, the stitches in his heart that had once existed ripped open-- crimson blood gushing out, the ache unbearable. Holding your smaller hand tightly he began to walk toward the direction of his classroom, a small sob escaped your lips before you tried your best to hide it but he had heard it. The tall man stopped, only to see your pretty face covered in fat tears with quivering lips as you tried to fight off dramatic sobs. “Oh, my sweet girl.” Satoru cooed, bending down to envelope you in his arms. His large hand cupped the back of your head, stroking your hair as he held you tightly. He buried his nose in your hair, a small tear falling from his own eye but he was quick to wipe it.

“I- I miss him,‘Toru,” You choked out,“So much.”

“Me too, angel, me too.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩

Dark gray clouds covered the sky, leaving Kyoto in complete darkness. The sounds of war engulfed the city with crumbling buildings, destroyed vehicles, and thick clouds of smoke from small fires that had started. The perfect distraction Suguru had created to get to Yuta, it hadn’t registered in your minds that it had been his plan to get everyone away from the vicinity of Jujutsu High School.

You stood in a medical building to assist in healing those injured alongside Shoko, gifted the same ability of reversed curse technique with the upper hand of bringing those back from the dead on rare occasions. A skill you had spent most of your life trying to achieve, it had only been possible with the help of Tengen and Satoru. The consequences of cheating death had yet to show themselves to you, bringing back countless from watery graves— a draining task that consumed most of your cursed energy for a few days, it wasn’t used often.

Crouching over a severely injured fourth grade student the grand glass door of the building opened, as footsteps scrambled to deliver another injured student you felt the familiar cursed energy of your husband. “I have to go back to Jujutsu High, he set this whole thing up. Suguru is after Yuta.” He stated, gritting his teeth.

“I’m coming with you.” The urgency in your voice was hard to miss.

Satoru could only shake his head, holding his hand up to stop you from coming any closer to him, “No, it’s too dangerous, Name. Stay here and treat the wounded.”

He was always overprotective of you, your safety had always been the six eyes priority only growing ten fold the moment Suguru abandoned the both of you. You understood, but at the same time you weren’t weak, classified as a special grade two weeks after attending school. Training day in and day out when it came to combat, craving to be as perfect as Satoru and Suguru— the two strongest sorcerers. “I don’t care! I’m going with you and that’s final.” You had always been stubborn, constantly standing your ground and refusing any form of rejection when it came to proving yourself. It was a trait Satoru adored about you, but oftentimes it drove him crazy with worry, he knew you were strong but you were the last person he had besides Megumi.

Determination painted your features, clenching your fists at your side to show Satoru you weren’t going to give up. He couldn’t argue with his beautiful wife, especially with the way you looked at him as if you would follow him to the ends of the Earth. “So stubborn.” He huffed, taking your hand before teleporting the both of you to Jujutsu High.

It was silent the moment you arrived on campus grounds the smell of burnt wood wafted in the air as you walked hand in hand. A knot formed in your gut as if it were signaling you that something had gone terribly wrong, it made you tighten your hold on Satoru’s hand. The silence was deafening as the residue of a previous battle remained in the air and grubble of buildings.

Turning the corner of vacant buildings, you could see a figure in the distance covered in crimson liquid, missing a limb, long raven hair a disheveled mess as his signature bun had come undone, “You guys are late as usual.” Suguru weakly chuckled, clutching his side.

“The students in Kyoto were under your control?” Satoru asked, though he held no confusion, you both knew the answer.

Suguru leaned back on a cement wall letting out a ragged breath, “Yes, they all were.”

Letting go of Satoru’s hand you couldn’t care less about the things Suguru had done, the misery he caused when he disappeared, or even those he hurt. Your vision became blurry with tears as you took in his condition, bloodied and bruised as he struggled to maintain a steady breath. You could not bear to listen to much more, this time you had allowed yourself to run to Suguru as you had longed since seeing him on school grounds five days ago. Not giving Satoru a moment to think as he watches your figure bolt for the raven haired man.

Kneeling in front of him your arms wrapped around his neck bringing his body close to yours, without hesitation he wrapped his arm around your waist burying his bloodied face in your neck. The smell of jasmine and cedarwood welcomed you, the scent that had always belonged to him, the one that caused a sob to escape your lips. “You idiot.” You cried into his hair, clutching him tightly, afraid to let go and discover that he was a figment of your imagination.

You were warm, skin silky soft— he had forgotten how good it felt to have you in his arms, if he was being honest with himself he had forgotten your scent, how sweet and delicate it was. “There’s my sweet girl.” Suguru croaked, after a decade of pushing away the hurt he caused himself for leaving, was finally flooding out. Trembling as he hugged you tightly, burning your scent, curves, and hair into his memory. A treasure he’d lock up and guard with his entire being.

“I can fix it, let me fix it… let me heal you.” You begged, cupping his cheeks, blood staining your hands.

“Name, you can’t.” Satoru whispered, tilting his head down.

“What?! No, I'm going to fix h-“

Before you could finish your sentence Suguru took your hand, placing a kiss to the back of it, “It’s for the best, angel.”

You shook your head frantically, sobbing loudly as you looked between Satoru and Suguru, begging to not allow it to end this way. Burying your face in Suguru’s neck, closing your eyes as if to wish to wake up from this nightmare. To wake in your huge bed with them on either side of you, each wrapped around you as they slept soundly. The harsh cold breeze flowing in through your window as it snowed outside, dreading the moment Satoru woke up because he’d drag the two of you outside. Wanting a life back that once was, when Suguru was content with the things he had, when the two of you were enough for him, just one more time.

Suguru grabbed your hand, swaying your two bodies together. Noticing the rays of sunshine bouncing off of a rather large diamond on your finger nearly blinding him, he took a moment to admire it, chuckling bitterly as a wave of jealousy flooded over him. “My love’s got married.” Suguru could only blame himself for abandoning you both, envious he wouldn’t be able to share the Gojo last name with the both of you. A part of him was truly happy for you two, moving on after his selfish act. It wouldn’t have been fair to request either of you to remain stagnant.

“In October two years ago.” Satoru smiled sadly, twiddling with the diamond band on his ring finger. Proud to call you his wife, to be the one to take care of you and cherish moments spent together. It hurt that Suguru couldn’t be a part of it.

“I can fix you… then… then we can try to mend everything. Sugu please.” You choked.

But the decision had been made for you, the conclusion that Suguru was on death’s doorstep had become destiny in the moment. Your pleas and cries went unanswered even if it pained both of the men to cause such agony for you. In the end Suguru no longer had the ability to change, too stuck in his ideals to let them go. “I still love you.” You weeped.

Suguru’s heart sank at your words, even after the crimes he had commited and the torture he had put you through your emotions remained in tact, “I love you too.” The raven haired man kisses your temple, “and I love you, ‘Toru.”

A few tears had finally escaped his cerulean eyes, “I love you too… I’m sorry.”

A flash of purple came into your peripheral vision, the ringing in your ears was painful. Time had slowed as Suguru’s muscular body fell limp in your arms, the look of horror on your face was one that Satoru would remember forever. A loud scream erupted from your lungs that it felt as though they’d rip open at the seams, oxygen became impossible to inhale as you wailed out to the sky clutching his lifeless body in your arms. “No! No, ‘Toru… no. Suguru please,” The only thing you could muster was to beg and wail, preparing to use the entirety of your cursed energy to bring back your dead lover.

But Satoru pulled you away before you could do anything, holding your flailing body in his arms as he howled alongside you. He would hold onto this guilt for the rest of his life, ripping Suguru away from your lives as he meant nothing when he was everything would tear him to shreds. Suguru had perished by his own hands, he felt like a monster. All he could do was throw you over his shoulder and listen to the heart wrenching wails that left you as he dragged you away from Suguru.

He’d never forgive himself.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[thewritersofdeceased]

𝐈'𝐌 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍.

Racetrack Higgins & Albert DaSilva

Fandom ;; Newsies

whimpers escaped from a boy curled up. His amor, his love, had been out of the refuge for a couple months now, but the nightmares came back to bite him straight. his eyes were tightly shut as he was curled up to the best he could. his knees were to his chest, his chest rising and falling at a quick pace and soft whimpers escaping him. albert didn’t have his hat off, no. his hat was covering his upper face. It'd been a habit of albert’s for a couple weeks now, but race didn’t mind it. a tired yawn escaped the italian boy as he slowly blinked his eyes to adjust to the darkness. albert had weaseled his way out of his boyfriend’s arms, something race hadn’t noticed earlier on. though, now awake, race figured out why.

he knew albert had these sorts of nights where his mind would grow so dark, flooded with past memories or nightmares that race had recalled at least some of them. his silver blue colored eyes held worry as he carefully sat up, placing a gentle hand on albert’s shoulder and attempting to awaken the boy. “albie… wake up, tesoro..” he spoke softly in a whisper, not wanting to wake up any of the other newsboys in the room. when albert awoke, he’d take him to the bathroom. nobody was awake, so he’d be able to take care of his lover and help him out there. it took a while for albert to wake up, but when he did, albert’s attention was all over the area. 

”albie, hey, hey.. you’re okay.. i’s promise, you’s okay.. it’s just me..” for once, race spoke softly, taking note that the boy trembling. albert, between the two, was known for keeping his emotions in tack. the worry in race’s face never faltered as he placed his hands in his lap. he wasn’t going to touch albert unless the other wanted it. “can i place my hand on your shoulder, tesoro?” he asked, waiting a couple seconds for an answer from albert. after a while, a soft answer escaped the ginger. “oui.” race had begun to realize that albert was in one of those hours where he mostly spoke french. it was comforting to him. after all, he had sang to race in french only a couple days prior to today. it was comforting to the redhead. 

slowly, race had placed one of his hands on albert’s shoulder, gently drawing shapes with his thumb. “here.. let’s get outta’ here so we don’t wake anyone up, okay?” his voice was soft and gentle, not wanting to worry albert any more than he already was. again, it took albert a couple seconds to reply, yes another soft “oui.” escaping him. race had slowly stood, gently holding his hands out for his boyfriend to take hold of. “carry?” he then whispered, earning a debating look for a couple seconds. though albert eventually nodded his head, allowing race to pick him up and into his arms. when race had picked him up, albert wrapped his legs around his partner, like a koala.

race adjusted him slightly so he wouldn’t drop his boyfriend, carefully making his way towards the cold bathroom. When entering, he gently placed albert down on the edge of the sink, standing between his boyfriends legs. the redhead wasn’t trembling anymore, but he was still tense. race frowned slightly, looking to albert. “hand?” he spoke softly, earning a slow nod from albert. “i need words, honey..” he continued to speak, earning a sniffle from albert. “Oui..” the redhead spoke again, sounded more tired as he slowly began to try and relax.

race had taken ahold of albert’s hand by now, gently squeezing it as he instructed the redhead what to do. Breath in, hold, breath out.. they followed these procedures until albert was practically asleep once more. race didn’t move however. he took a couple seconds to make sure albert was alright, fully asleep, before making his way back to the bunks with albert secured in his arms.

race had gently placed the redhead onto his own bunk, tucking him in and everything before climbing in himself. he’d carefully wrap his arm around albert’s waist and pulled him ever so slightly, his chest pressed to albert’s back. as the soft breathing of albert was all race could hear, he whispered softly, pressing a soft and gentle kiss to his boyfriends shoulder.

"Ti amo piccolo..”

[kitsunequeen1987]

Forsaken Under Moonlight - Corpse Puppet AU

AU by @sketchquill , fanfic by me <3

One chilly evening, Kitsune took a stroll in the woods. She held her coat closer to her body, shivering a bit from the cold winter wind. Even in her warmest coat, she still felt the bite of the cold. Oh well, it was worth it. Her nightly walks were calming- even if the woods could be unnerving sometimes. 

Whatever train of thought she seemed to have seemed to derail in an instant when she suddenly heard the faint sound of... sobbing? That was new. She stopped in her tracks, debating on what she should do. In the end, her conscience won, and she decided to investigate. Somebody could be hurt, and Kitsune couldn't really live with herself if she left someone alone, in the cold, in such a state.

Humming slightly, Kitsune began to approach the sound of the walking. After a good minute or so of trudging through the snow, Kitsune found... a puppet boy? An undead one. Dressed like a groom it seemed.

His blue skin changed hue in his face, neck, and arm- and the alternating colors were neatly stitched back. A shiny gold ring on his finger was the only contrast to his tattered, blue suit and veil that he wore. Dead roses rested in his deep blue hair, which was done in a slightly messy pompadour, and on the lapel of his jacket. He sat on a rock amidst the snow, sobbing into his hands.

Kitsune hummed, slowly walking closer. "Hey... Excuse me?" She softly called out, making the poor thing jolt in surprise. "Are you... Are you okay?" She softly asked.

The puppet stared at her in silence for a moment before looking away, wiping his tears."I-I'm alright..." He responded. "Just... thinking back to someone who... wasn't really mine at all. It doesn't make it hurt any less, though.." He sighed, putting on a sad smile before looking back at her.

"But enough about that... What are you doing out here? I-It's a bit late for someone like... you, to be walking around- especially out in the woods, in the cold." He asked.

"I'm just out on an evening walk..." Kitsune walked closer as she responded. "What's your name?" 

"...Wally. Wally Darling." He replied.

Kitsune smiled a bit. "Nice to meet you, Wally.. My name is Kitsune. Can I ask- do you have anywhere to stay?" She questioned.

"Um.. N-No, I don't.. Not really." Wally answered. "Why? Are you offering to.. let me stay with you?" He asked.

"Yes, actually. If you don't mind- I feel like you could use some comfort." Kitsune offered, holding her hand out to him. "What do you say?"

Wally stared at her open hand for a moment, a little surprised at her sudden show of compassion. But, he soon smiled, taking her hand and standing up with her. "...Thank you, Kitsune... I appreciate your kindness tonight- I would be lying if I said I didn't need it right now."

"Think nothing of it, Wally!" Kitsune smiled warmly, guiding him out of the forest. She subtly guided him back to her home, trying not to draw attention to her and her new friend.

This was not what she had in mind when she went out for her walk, but hey, she wasn't complaining.

(This is the prologue- I'll make a proper page when I write the next one!)

[bluelizze]

If I could, I would give you everything you ever wanted. I would give you everything a woman would ever deserve.

But dear God hates the idea and if I could, I would go against him. But this body I hate so much, this body that should’ve belong to you, curses me.

But for now, until the end of time, I will continue to do my role as your gentleman, your Prince Charming, your knight in shining armor.

You don’t deserve the treatment that others gave you. No lady ever go through that.

If the world hates you, then I will hate the world back. And give you that treatment that you should deserve.

Because my love for you, is too much for me to hold in. I held this love for too long and I deserve to give that love to special someone.

And that special someone is you, my love.

[bebx]

[edwardcreel]

reblog if you believe fanfics are as valid as books that were published and sold by authors who write as their main careers. I'm trying to prove a point

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

please please please please reblog if you’re a writer and have at some point felt like your writing is getting worse. I need to know if I’m the only one who’s struggling with these thoughts

[greykolla-art]

My blog has become infested with angst goblins, and they must be fed with some hypothetical scenarios!🙏💚

[retiredteabag]

Sukuna assimilating to you

Synopsis: After discovering that Sukuna has been wide awake every time you nap together, you become embarrassed around him.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

It is a scientific fact that when we are around people we love and trust, while in a healthy relationship, the release of oxytocin makes us sleepy.

Sukuna does not need sleep. He is the king of curses, able to continuously use his technique without ever becoming exhausted. When you first suggested that his chambers were "perfect for napping", he had simply raised a brow and considered what that could possibly mean.

You are like a weak creature to him. A kitten or perhaps a rabbit. And since you are never safer than when you are in his presence, you frequently find yourself growing sleepy when you are around him.

Throughout your strange relationship with the king, something that you loved most, is that there never needs to be words exchanged between the two of you. You were both contented to sit in silence. Frequently dozing off together, or so you thought.

You caught on eventually, that he was always awake before you. That his breathing pattern never really changed. That his face never relaxed more than it would if he had simply been sitting with his eyes closed.

One morning, after having stayed the night sleeping, you mumbled to him, "How is it you're always awake before I?"

He rose a brow at you, his upper set of eyes were looking into yours, the lower staring at how you lay across his bed sheets.

"I do not know your meaning." He grumbled out.

You huffed, rolling your eyes. "You never sleep in longer than I do, one day I would like to wake up before you."

"I never sleep at all." He stated before you had even really finished your sentace.

"What?" Your breathy outburst echoed slightly in his bed chamber, "What do you mean you don't sleep?"

"I do not require such things." He turned his torso now toward you, all four eyes studying your face, you had quickly sprung up, seemingly miffed.

"So... so all this time, you've just been... laying there while I've been sleeping?"

"I suppose I have, I do not see how this matters in the slightest." "It matters because I've been... It's just been a big waste of time for you. Sukuna you should have said something." You're upset, he can tell. Your face is scrunched up, your blood is pounding in your veins. Sukuna, however, does not know what to say in this situation.

In all honesty, he figured you knew and were just including him. Did you really think he was that weak? Or could you simply not conceive of a restless existence? Whatever the answer, he had no response for you, expecting a shrug of the shoulders- you he would discover, would not so easily let go of things.

And how humiliated you were. How many HOURS had you spent sleeping with him, within his grasp, in his space for him to have been conscious the whole time? You tried thinking back, attempting to recall a time you had requested a nap when he was uninterested.

He had never uttered a word about it. Never turned you down. Sukuna was not a kind king, he rarely ever did things that were not out of necessity, and he certainly did not do things he didn't like. That, at least, was consolation. You knew he had not been suffering for your sake, but even so, it was embarrassing.

Sukuna, still, could not understand your sheepishness about the subject. He did not care to explain that time works differently for him, that his mind is not so simple as yours and does not require entertainment all the time, that he could sit still for years and not be bothered, and frequently did before you came along.

He assumed you would get over it quickly. In your time as well as his. But days passed and he rarely saw you. You took your dinner with other people of the palace and spoke with him in the most cordial manner. One night, he informed Uraume that they needed to prepare a dish suited for you, something that would entice you, and serve it to him.

He figured this would bring you crawling back to him, tail between your legs. Yet, you did not budge.

Odd.

You were wallowing. You knew it. He did not care to spend time, what? Watching you sleep? Of course, he wouldn't, but it hurt your pride, to know you had been taking up such huge chunks of time lazing about in his presence. Well, not anymore. You slept in your chamber and your chamber alone. Gone were the days of blankets on the engawa, gone were the days of resting beneath the kotatsu while laying your head in his lap, gone were the days of sharing his bed.

If ever he wished for someone to share his bed, he had a whole cast of concubines, though you knew they were never of any use to him, they were mostly just house staff with a fancy title.

The evening he finally decided enough was enough, you were in the washhouse doing laundry.

Your back was arched over a bin full of soapy water. Your hands working tirelessly on some cloth.

"Have you not circumvented me enough?" He spoke in a low and slow tone.

"Lord Sukuna." You bowed, clothing in your hands, suds up your forearms, you bent your neck as to not look at him.

"You will reply now." He raised a brow, watching your hands quietly splash in the washbin.

"Was there something you would like me to assist to?" You questioned. Your head was full of possible reasons for what the king meant by seeking you out personally.

"Do you believe that by not sleeping in my presence I would come to believe you do not require rest?" He spoke in an unserious tone, eyes unblinking.

"No, my lord." Now what was he playing at? Of course that wasn't your intention.

"Then you hide yourself from me because you no longer have time for your king, I suppose." He mused.

Oh, for heaven's sake, "No, my lord."

"I see," He bent down to look you dead in the eyes, "So, you must no longer crave my occupancy of your space. You must not desire my hand running through your hair? I suppose you have tired of staying in my chambers?" His tone remained deep but his eyes were dead serious now.

"I-" You began, but suddenly you felt the urge to cough, swallowing you tried again, "I wished not to preoccupy so much of your time."

"And you made this decision without enlightening your king."

You said nothing.

"You will eat with me tonight, you shall stay in my chambers henceforth." He rose in record speed, turning without a second glance your way, maids were staring wide-eyed at the king of curses as he halted at the entrance of the washhouse. You could not see, but there was finality in his voice.

"I wish not to waste-" You were cut off by Sukunas voice, his broad back still facing you.

"Your wishes do not interest me now, so it seems. It is my wish for you to spend your time with me." His steps resounded through the compound, your face slack.

The maids smirked, and with shocked faces, side-eyed one another. A couple entered the washhouse giving you big open-mouthed smiles, and patted your shoulder as they passed.

That night Uraume made something you would go on to beg them to make for years to come. And when Sukuna pulled you prone from your seated position on his bed, he took a firm fingertip and stroked the space between your eyes, one of his enormous hands encircling your skull and massaging your temples with his thumb and ring fingers. He traced the bridge of your nose to your forehead, the way you would stroke a cat.

Perhaps he thought this would induce drowsiness but all it did was make you feel all floaty inside at his silliness.

And for the first time since that night, you slept alongside him. Within his embrace, and when you awoke, Sukuna's eyes were closed.

[xxlady-lunaxx]

Stages of love | {SaneObaGiyuu}

Theme: Floofy angst !

Note: Is it bad i can't say no

Spoilers! + lil cw for thoughts of suicide/implications of sh

// I GOT CARRIED AWAY WITH THE REQUEST, I MEANT TO DO LIKE TWO OR THREE PARAGRAPHS OF REMINISCING FOR THE PAST BEFORE OBANAI DIED BUT I GOT MORE LIKE 3.5k WORDS BEFORE I GOT TO THE ANGST 😭 THE ANGST COMES A BIT SUDDENLY BC OF THAT, SORRY

×××

For a couple months, Giyuu, Obanai, and Sanemi had dated. From outside view, it had come out of nowhere. One minute, Obanai and Sanemi were shitting on Giyuu, next minute the three were holding hands and prancing about like a group of princesses at a ball. But really, it had been a progressive year that led up to their relationship. There were the first peaks of interest in each other. It had started, perhaps, with Sanemi. He was the most brash of the three, as was known well, and in the same way quite rudely honest. Only, his honesty came in handy in some cases, such as this.

There was a time where he had to go on a mission paired with Giyuu. It had been a quick one, only taken to the task for the Hashira because there had been several Lowermoons in the area. But it was around that time when Sanemi noticed something different. Giyuu spoke to him only once throughout the four hours they had taken to arrive at their destination, kill the demons, deposit the injured to a safe place and bury the dead. Yet it was enough to spark an interest in Sanemi. 

Giyuu's voice was quiet and collected, usually without emotion. There was something about it, however, that was so... graceful, almost. His words flowed smoothly like water, whereas Sanemi spoke like a firecracker, ready to light on fire. But it wasn't the contrast about them that caught his eye—or ear, rather. Nor was it the words, really. If you asked him, Sanemi wouldn't remember what Giyuu had said that day. But whatever it was, Giyuu's voice seemed to stick into his head, repeating itself over an over. He tried fitting other words into Giyuu's voice. Sanemi. The name 'Sanemi' slipped over your tongue lightly, gently. It was mismatched, really, to the bearer of the name. But it fit Giyuu's voice, his mouth. Sanemi could imagine it, his lips parting to utter the name. It was like a calm river, a trickle. He wanted to hear it, suddenly. Wanted to hear his name spoken from the lips of the man he had detested since they day they'd met.

It hadn't hit him quite that suddenly, no. It came gradually. Giyuu's voice returning to his mind several days after the mission. He turned it over in his head, over and over. He came to the conclusion that he would press words from Giyuu's throat, he would force sound from it. He wanted to hear him again, hear him speak, hear him say his name. 

The name Shinazugawa was crisper. It was like a breeze that took a sudden turn, then returned to its peaceful state. It was alright, perhaps, to hear it spoken in Giyuu's ever-so-soothing voice. But Sanemi longed to hear his name. Sanemi. Sanemi, Sanemi, Sanemi. Giyuu's bluebell eyes flicking momentarily towards him, then back to the task at hand. Sanemi.

One day, Giyuu and Sanemi found themselves the last people to leave as the Hashira's disbanded from their second biannual meeting of the year. They glanced at each other. Giyuu was all but expecting Sanemi to shout at him again, or maybe regard him with contempt before leaving. But he got something considerably different and it caught him off guard, letting a small burst of surprise slip through his façade for a split second before his face settled to its neutral, slack expression.

"Tomioka, will you say something?" Sanemi had asked. He sounded gruff and, in future days, Giyuu would come to recognize that it was his tell-tale of embarrassment. His voice was almost quiet, maybe a shade brighter than Giyuu's. And it was so uncharacteristic of him that Giyuu was unsure it was actually Sanemi. But of course it was, who else would it be?

Giyuu tilted his head in Sanemi's direction, not responding. He didn't understand this request. Would he be chastised for having a quiet voice? Or be shouted at for not talking usually? What was the point of this question?

"Speak, Tomioka," Sanemi repeated, stepping forward. "Say something. Anything."

Giyuu, deciding that he couldn't think of any outcome which might come from this—and knowing full well he could simply leave—he spoke. "What do you mean?"

It was more than enough for Sanemi. He settled back, leaning against one of the pillars on the corner of the porch of the Ubuyashiki's Estate. His arms were crossed and his eyes glazed languidly over Giyuu's form, intent in his own thoughts.

Giyuu got no answer this time, which he considered as karma. People often complained how he rarely—or never—answered. He supposed he couldn't whine about it now, not when he always ignored others. But he stayed there, unsure of himself. 

"Shinazugawa?" 

Sanemi nodded once in response. Nothing more, nothing less. And it was all odd for Giyuu, of course. He didn't understand.

He would come later to identify this strange occurance, would he run it through his head once more.

"Nevermind," Giyuu murmured. Then, wondering if he should announce his leave, added, "I'll be going now. Goodbye."

Sanemi stood up, then, straightening himself. "Bye, then," he said, walking away.

Strange, wasn't it? Giyuu had gone home, mulling the day over, then had decided Sanemi was tired and acting weird and brushed it away.

Sanemi, on the otherhand, had found Obanai in his usual post on a tree. He had climbed up beside him, leaned against a branch, and stared off into the distance. 

"What do you mean? ... Shinazugawa? ... Nevermind. I'll be going now, goodbye."

Shinazugawa.

God, and what was there of 'Sanemi'? He wanted it—needed it—and it came as a shock to himself, even. What was there of Giyuu? Other than his eyes and his voice—of course, he was nothing! Nothing, to Sanemi. Nothing to anyone. But even that wasn't true, was it? Giyuu was becoming something. He wasn't sure what. But it was there. This small, nagging feeling that Giyuu was going to be something... more.

That was the start.

Usually, Sanemi was described as using his words in an almost brutal way. He cursed every other word, he spoke more insults than anything, only uttered a compliment once or twice. In his life, perhaps. But there were times his words came off as sweet, a honeyed tone, peppered with love. This was rare, no doubt. Would it ever happen?

Yes, it would. 

It shouldn't have been a surprise to anyone that Obanai and Sanemi's relationship progressed considerably faster than theirs to Giyuu. They were friends, of course. Best friends, even. Both found the other easy to confide in, often going on walks together to clear their minds, sparring or simply being in the presence of the other. 

In this instance, Obanai had fallen first. And he had fallen hard. 

Sanemi was someone to admire, if you put him under the right light. He was strong, he was honest, yet somehow caring in his own, aggressive ways. He would manage Obanai's eating schedules as best he could, bring small snacks for him. He was trustworthy, too. He could keep a secret—keep a promise. It was evident that nobody saw this in him, save for Obanai. People described him as explosive, angry, like a morbid dog. Behind his back, they would call him names, but tremble in fear were he to glance at them. They didn't understand him like Obanai did. Nobody did, really. Nobody bothered to.

Sanemi didn't mind insults. He only threw some back or ignored them. Obanai brought it up once and Sanemi brushed it off saying, quite reasonably, that people were going to say what they wanted to say and that was that. Either ignore them or waste your time being upset about it, it was your choice. And Sanemi chose to ignore them. He didn't give a single fuck what anyone said anymore, as long as they minded their own business and didn't bother him.

At one point in time, Obanai revealed his scar to Sanemi. They had gotten to the point where he felt he could trust him enough to show this one most intimate part of himself which only Kaburamaru had ever seen before. He figured that if Sanemi reacted badly, he would simply retreat from the friendship he had grown to love and keep to himself. He expected this to happen, in all honesty. He didn't expect much. But it went well, granted. Well enough for Obanai's eyes to open and take in all of Sanemi's cocky smiles, his tall form, his rough voice, everything. And consume it with all his heart, fall deep into waters of an ocean called Love, find himself too drowned in Sanemi that he no longer knew what had happened.

It had probably come in more than the instant it took for Sanemi to accept the scar. But whether it had taken hours or days or months, Obanai knew not. He only knew that he had sunken into this too deeply to get out in a matter of time. He was head of heels for Sanemi and he was not backing out any time soon.

Sanemi caught on, eventually. He wasn't an idiot. And Obanai was exceedingly obvious, flushing at any contact, averting his eyes when Sanemi pulled his top off during training, stuttering and stumbling over his words like Mitsuri. This was before Sanemi's eyes set upon Giyuu. So he considered it. He spoke nothing of his observations to Obanai until he was sure of his answer. Then he brought it up, so bluntly Obanai had all but fallen out of the tree.

"You like me, don't you," he had said one day. Not as a question, but a statement. He was gazing up at Obanai who sat in a tree, legs swinging slightly.

Obanai took exactly one second to register his words before he tipped backwards in his shock, barely staying on as his legs hooked around the branch quickly, making his body swing back and forth for a moment, blood rushing to his head as he hung upside down. Kaburamaru had gotten a more or less worse position, having fallen from his perch on Obanai's shoulders and was now struggling on the ground, tangled up in the grass.

Sanemi sighed and bent down, helping Kaburamaru up and standing back up. "One minute," he said to Obanai, who was helplessly trying to reach up and grab the branch.

He carefully placed Kaburamaru to the side then walked back to Obanai and tugged him down, carrying him to Kaburamaru and settling him down.

Obanai looked away, embarrassed, and quickly brought Kaburamaru back onto his shoulder, busying himself with the snake.

"How long have you liked me for?" Sanemi asked. 

"I never said I liked you..." Obanai mumbled, trying to defect the question.

"No, but it's obvious. You didn't deny it anyways," Sanemi said pointedly, crossing his arms. "Might as well tell the truth, unless you want me to throw you back onto the tree."

Obanai let out a breath. "Fine."

"Good. Now tell me," Sanemi said impatiently. 

"I don't know," Obanai mumbled.

"No? What about vaguely?"

"Since I showed you?" he suggested quietly. "I think."

"Showed me...?" Understanding slipped into Sanemi's expression. "Ah. Your mask."

"Yes."

"Got it."

Silence.

"Are you annoyed?" Obanai asked tentatively. 

"Annoyed? Why would I be?" Sanemi said curiously, moving closer to stand in front of him.

"I'm sure you aren't into men," Obanai mumbled. 

"Nice assumption. You're wrong."

More silence. There was an awkward moment of staring.

"Then you're not into me, specifically," Obanai said quietly.

"Wrong again. How many times can you be wrong?" Sanemi asked, amused by this.

"...you like me?" Obanai asked, obvious shock lacing his words.

"No, I like Tomioka—of course I like you! Was that not obvious?" He paused. "No, I guess I can't ask you that, Mr. King-of-Obvious. You wouldn't understand subtlety if it danced in front of you naked." 

"Shut up," Obanai grumbled. 

"Mhm," Sanemi hummed lightly. "So, answer me, Iguro."

Obanai glanced up. "Hm?"

"Do you want to date?" 

There was some sort of shocked silence—mostly from Obanai.

"What?"

"Do you want to date," Sanemi repeated. "You're not forced to."

"Oh- Oh, okay, yeah. Uhm. Sure," Obanai mumbled. 

Sanemi gave him a satisfied smile. "Alright then." 

And that was the start of their relationship. Romantic relationship, mind you. They kept it a secret. Neither wished to have publicity shined on their private lives. It started with smaller things but it fed to their affection to each other, making them grow closer. They found themselves entangled in each other.

Then Giyuu came along. Sanemi was, as stated before, the first to fall for him. Or at least find some interest that mingled—longer than anticipated.

Obanai saw nothing in Giyuu for the longest time. But Sanemi brought it up eventually, deciding he didn't want to dwell on it for too long. Obanai resisted the idea at first, which was reasonable. He gave in eventually, however, as he let himself try to shine better light on the man he usually hated. With this, he found his interest peaked slightly. He didn't see what Sanemi did, necessarily. He found himself more interested in Giyuu as a person, rather then why he was always so ignorant and bitchy.

It definitely took time to find himself fully immersed in this man—which was reasonable. Obanai's gaze was set on Sanemi and he refused to look away for even a second. But Sanemi's apparently sudden interest in Giyuu made him rethink a bit. He wanted, more than anything, for Sanemi to be content with his life. He didn't want to pressure him to stay with Obanai or anything that would make him upset. So he took the time to look into Giyuu. Maybe they could have some sort of relationship between the three of them, maybe it would make Sanemi happy too. 

To both his own and Sanemi's shock, Obanai found himself seeing some things Sanemi did in Giyuu. He found himself wondering how it would feel to run his hair through Giyuu's long locks. He was drawn to his eyes especially. The blue. It was beautiful, somehow. Not like an ocean that could swoop you away, no, but maybe like the little blue flowers that grew on the sides of roads, swaying peacefully in the breeze. Or like blueberries, small and sweet. Giyuu's eyes were a deep blue, like the depths of a twilight sky. He realized, over time, that he had fallen in love all over again. It wasn't as much as he had felt for Sanemi, that was for sure, but it seemed that in his attempt to please his boyfriend, he had ended up finding the humanity and Giyuu and things to like about him.

He spoke to Sanemi about this, after a couple days of wondering if he should throw away his pride. The conversation ended in both agreeing to talk to Giyuu first. After all, neither had been particularily... welcoming to Giyuu, so they figured that he would probably find nothing in them.

Giyuu, in fact, was positively shocked to know that the two Hashira who appeared to despise him most both liked him...romantically. But he welcomed the idea, saying that he could try to find something in both of them. It didn't come as a surprise—although it wasn't without its disappointment—that Giyuu didn't feel the same. Not at first, at least. So the three started spending a little time by themselves, away from prying eyes. The goal was, for Giyuu, to try and find interest in either or both Sanemi and Obanai. The other two—who had told Giyuu they were dating—only reveled in the time with Giyuu, not wanting to force feelings onto him.

But Giyuu, as Obanai had, quickly ended up captivated by the two. As he spent more time with them, he found himself immersed in their daily lives. It made him feel normal, too, not on the brink of death 24/7. Or at least that he could have a relatively okay life as of now. And with this, he could find the people inside Sanemi and Obanai which he had been mostly unable to see before. It was interesting, to say the least. And his interest was peaked.

He told them, after a couple weeks of mindless talking, that he had come to a decision. They were on a walk, it being a good day, and had finished sparring with each other some time ago. To cool down they'd gone outside—and it was nice, not too hot either. It had been a quiet walk, broken eventually by Giyuu who spoke up.

"Around a month ago, you asked me about... our... relationship? To each other?" he said, trying to remember the words they had used. 

"Go on," Obanai urged.

Giyuu nodded slowly. "Well you told me that after maybe a month I could decide whether or not I'd want to be anything more, or just not have anything to do with you."

Obanai let out a breath. "Are you going to keep us waiting?"

A ghost of a smile formed on Giyuu's face. "Sorry."

"Just hurry up," Sanemi said impatiently. He had been waiting longest, after all. Had liked Giyuu way before Obanai and had waiting for months for Obanai to accept this, then to fall for Giyuu too, and then for Giyuu to come to terms with his decision. 

"Right. I think... I think I feel the same," Giyuu informed them. "I liked spending the month with you two and... and I can see myself with you—romantically—if you'd still have any lingering interest in me." His words were delivered curtly, switching to his usual self as nervousness took over.

Sanemi scoffed. "Lingering interest? Bitch—I still feel the same. Stop being so fucking insecure or whatever it is," he said, crossing his arms.

Obanai mimicked his pose, nodding along. "What he said."

Giyuu's lips twitched into a supressed smile despite himself. "Alright..."

"So are you saying you're willing to date it, though?" Obanai clarified, wanting to make sure.

Giyuu nodded. "I think so."

"Think? Can you be more specific," Obanai huffed.

"Fine. Yes, I am saying that," Giyuu corrected. 

Obanai gave a satisfied nod and glanced at Sanemi.

"Then... we're dating?" Obanai said quietly, unsure if that's what it meant.

"Hell yes," Sanemi replied confidently, swinging an arm around Giyuu and another around Obanai before pulling them into an awkwardly uncomfortable embrace, laughing as they squirmed. 

"You're a lot nicer to me now," Giyuu remarked as Sanemi let go.

"What, do you hate it? I can be mean to you, if you want," Sanemi said, slapping the back of Giyuu's head.

"...I prefer you nicer," Giyuu mumbled, rubbing his neck.

Sanemi smirked. "Then don't complain."

"I wasn't complaining!"

"I feel oddly left out of this conversation," Obanai cut in, arms crossed.

Giyuu glanced at him. "Welcome to the club."

"Oh, shut up. You purposefully go out of your way to not talk to anyone. I don't do that."

"Fair enough."

Sanemi put a hand on both of their heads, patting them. "Let's go somewhere where we don't risk Uzui randomly popping up."

"We can go to my house?" Giyuu offered.

"Lead the way, Tomioka," Sanemi said and the three set off.

And then their relationship tilted and went much further in a spiral of emotions both sweet and bitter, leaving them in dizzying entrancements in the others' hands, lost in the darkest depths of their gaze. The relationship seemed to open up a lot of trust in each other, reopening past wounds on display for the other two to see. At first, it was a bit iffy and they tread carefully in the shallow waters of the shore of an ocean of trust. As time went on, their trust was built upon hundreds of many stepping stones. 

Obanai was, maybe, the first to depict his trust to them in obvious ways. Given that Sanemi was the only of his boyfriends to know about his scar, he had to make Giyuu turn away or force him to wear a blindfold in order to gain a kiss. It irritated him to the point he pushed away his doubts and showed Giyuu his scar. 

It had gone rather smoothly, such as Sanemi's. Giyuu still had trouble coming across with his emotions and tended to push them down or at least away from his expression. So his shock was barely there and he quickly recovered from it, placing a tender kiss along the rough crevice of skin along Obanai's jaw. Sanemi had been there to supervise, in case anything went wrong, but it all went by quite quickly and the three found themselves waking up entangled in each other's limbs, having fallen asleep in what would pass off as an embrace.

At first, they had kept their relationship a secret. But it got tiring having to restrain themself from throwing their arms around one of their boyfriend's whenever they met, so they stopped trying. They ignored any remarks about their relationship—though they weren't blind to them, knowing full well that the other Hashira were in complete perplexity over this—and went on with showing mild affection in front of others. They, of course, didn't want to put their full relationship in display, so kept it at minimum. 

Weeks crept past them, sometimes slowly, other times quickly. It was a gradual process of time that brought the three to a point which they felt they could depict the worst parts of themself and still feel safe in the comfort of their lovers' arms. Their ups and downs were experienced together and many times it was simply just the quiet presence of the other two that brought them feeling infinitely better.

However, its often said that good things never last. And it came quite suddenly, in fact. One minute, they were talking quietly amongst each other, slowly departing to their mission. Next minute they were admist a battle between Uppermoons, the loss of their master weighing them down. And last thing they knew, they were no longer three anymore. Sanemi and Giyuu found themselves the last remaining Hashira. 

For a couple weeks, they spent their time in the Butterfly Estate, crawling towards recovery. But neither felt much of the need for that, really. Obanai was gone. Everyone was gone. It was just them, now. The two of them, all alone. It really felt like that sometimes. And the silence of the makeshift hospital ward was deafening. There was endless time to be lost in thought but it often ended up with one of them in near tears, trying their best not to appear weak in front of Aoi who was much younger than them with many losses, yet pushing herself to the limits to tend to the hundreds of injured Demon Slayers.

Giyuu healed first. His injuries were lighter, despite having lost half his arm, he had lost considerably less blood than Sanemi. He wandered about aimlessly, wanting to go back to Sanemi but knowing he would probably be met with his sleeping lover. Several points in this time, he would go to the Hashira's graves. He, with the occasional help of the Uzui's, would pick flowers and arrange bouquets or make flower crowns to pass his time. He would place them onto the graves of the Hashira, and sometimes on the rank-and-file Demon Slayers as well. And Obanai's. Especially Obanai's.

Kaburamaru had been deposited to Giyuu at one point, knowing that he had been dating Obanai before—Sanemi had been far too tender to give the snake to, having nearly crossed the line between life and death—and Giyuu would place Kaburamaru beside the gravestone as he arranged the flowers methodically. He would talk quietly to himself, imagining he was speaking to Obanai.

Obanai had never been keen on words, but he listened. He didn't mind, he said. As long as he didn't have to respond.

So Giyuu would continue going there by himself day after day. Given his many, many times of solidarity, he would have an unhealthy amount to himself to think. And his thoughts often subsided in the worst ways possible. He would speak his thoughts to Obanai's grave sometimes, trying to pretend that Obanai was in his arms, listening. But it never worked.

When Sanemi was let out, Giyuu considered telling Sanemi how he felt. But he denied himself the possibility. Sanemi would be disappointed, and he was probably dealing with worse as he had also lost Genya. So he would bury himself in Sanemi's chest, trying not to cry as guilt filled his mind to the brim. Why was he here? Why not Obanai? Obanai deserved to be here with Sanemi more than Giyuu did. It just made more sense. Obanai and Sanemi had known each other for longer—at least had been closer for considerably longer. They had even dated long before Giyuu had intervened in their relationship. So why was it that Obanai died? Why not Giyuu?

And Sanemi would be silent, unaware of the thoughts flooding Giyuu's brain. His arms would rest around Giyuu's shoulder, eyes closed and head tilted back. They would be like this often. Silent. In fact, Giyuu wasn't the only thinking like this. Sanemi's thoughts ran quite similarly, his mind working up the hundreds of different ways things could've gone differently, wishing he hadn't been so incompetent. 

The unfiltered thoughts got to their heads eventually. Nestling a small space in their minds and expanding their homes until all they could think about was how worthless they were. 

Their katanas had been put away, thrown into a closet of some sort. They didn't need them anymore but the swords had been such an intimate part of their lives that they couldn't bear to get rid of them. 

The katanas resurfaced, however. Unsheathed. The blades, pulling their skin taut. For a moment, it hovered over their arm, or their leg, or their chest, unwilling to make a mark. Not another.

But then it was done. Blood spilling freely. It came as a momentary relief. They were feeling pain, they deserved the pain. But then it only stung, a harsh reminder that they were stupid.

Neither knew of each other's own hurting, though both felt similarly. For a long time, they simply avoided the topic of the gradually growing amount of bloody bandages in the trash. The towels, originally white but now pink from stained blood. They spoke nothing of it. Not until Tengen came along to check on them. Both were tired and weary, momentarily forgetting everything they wished to hide from everyone but themself.

Tengen had walked in and taken one look at them. Then he'd excused himself to the bathroom, stalking back with a roll of bandages he's supposedly gotten from the counter.

He had been furious and it hadn't taken long for Sanemi and Giyuu to realize that something was about to happen.

He had confronted them about the blood, made both Sanemi and Giyuu admit that they were hurting themselves, hauled them to the Butterfly Estate, chastised them the whole time Aoi tended to their wounds, then promptly moved in temporarily in their house.

Giyuu and Sanemi were both, somehow, shocked at the revelation that their partner was doing what they were themself. 

When they had been let home, the two had cuddled for a bit, silence casting over the room as their thoughts mulled.

"Are you okay, Giyuu?" Sanemi murmured, after a while. 

Giyuu nestled closer against his chest, eyes closed. "Are you?"

"Should we really answer this?" Sanemi said quietly, closing his own eyes and resting his head against Giyuu's. 

"Not if we want an honest answer."

Sanemi hummed in agreement, tilting his head down to press a fleeting kiss on Giyuu's forehead. "I'm sorry I didn't notice before."

"I could say the same."

Sanemi tugged Giyuu up, opening his eyes. "Why were you doing it, Giyuu?"

Giyuu frowned. "Obanai."

Sanemi's jaw tensed at the name. "Be more specific."

"I feel bad. Obanai saved my life during the battle at one point. At another, I was too late to save him. If it wasn't for Inosuke or Zenitsu or Kanao or whoever had moved him out of the way, he would've died. I wasn't helpful, and probably one of the reasons he did die," Giyuu mumbled. He felt a small sense of relief upon speaking these words. Often in the past, only saying what was bothering him felt like a huge weight had been lifted from him. He hadn't wanted to bother Sanemi, so he'd said nothing. But now it gave him a sense of nostolgia, hitting him right through his heart. He let out a breath. "And for you...?"

Sanemi was silent for a moment. When he spoke, he had completely changed the subject. "You know... you're talking a lot more now."

Giyuu tilted his head up, blinking, confused, at his boyfriend. "Huh?"

"Did you know that I fell in love with you because of your voice?" Sanemi murmured.

"No... I don't know why you ever liked me," Giyuu admitted.

Sanemi huffed. "Don't be an idiot, there's plenty to like about you."

"You changed the subject, Sanemi."

"I don't want to talk about that."

Giyuu gave in. "Fine. Go on."

"Well, I liked your voice because it always sounded so... smooth. Elegant, maybe. It fit your breathing form—water. It flowed like water and I loved it. Do you remember when I asked you to speak?" Sanemi asked, nudging Giyuu's head up to kiss him gently.

"I was confused why you told me to. I thought you wanted to berate me for having a quiet voice or something," Giyuu whined, remembering his confusion.

Sanemi laughed softly. It felt awkward, his face moving with muscles he hadn't prodded in a while now. The smile faded from his lips slowly. "I would play your voice over and over in my head. I really wanted to hear you say my name."

"Shinazugawa?"

"No. Sanemi. I don't know, it just... belongs more to me," Sanemi mumbled. "Shinazugawa is my family name, almost everyone calls me that. I didn't want to hear it from you."

Giyuu gazed at him. There was a sort of longing in Sanemi's voice, as if he had turned back to the past and found himself wishing the same thing as he had then. "I can say your name all you want, Sanemi," Giyuu said gently. "Do you like hearing your name? Sanemi? I like saying it." 

Sanemi's cheeks were powdered pink and he shifted, pulling Giyuu on top of him as he gazed up at the cealing. "I do like hearing it. From you, specifically."

There was a moment's pause.

"Sanemi?"

"Yes?"

"How did Obanai start to like me?"

Sanemi gave this consideration, heart throbbing at the thought of Obanai. He didn't want to think about this. But Giyuu asked—he wanted Giyuu to be happier. So he'd give him anything now. "I told him that I liked you. He didn't like you for a while, but he let me like you."

Giyuu frowned. "Did he ever like me, or did he just play along then?"

Sanemi shook his head. "No, no, he did like you. He fell for you too, eventually. But he never told me much about it. He just said he was starting to see what I saw in you. A bit after that we asked you out, and you know the rest."

Giyuu nodded. "Obanai never talked a lot so I didn't really know what he did or didn't like about me."

"Would you have changed if he told you his opinions?"

Giyuu shifted guiltily. "Maybe?"

Sanemi sighed. "I noticed you deliberately adapting to my wants. I was more talkative than both of you, probably. I'm not stupid, though. I could tell you were trying to change yourself." 

"...well I wanted the best for you," Giyuu protested.

Sanemi mussed his hair with his good hand. "The best for me is whatever's best for you."

Giyuu huffed but didn't protest any further. He propped himself up by the elbows, gazing down at Sanemi, his hair falling from his shoulders. "Sanemi?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

Sanemi's expression softened. "I love you too."

"I also love Obanai," Giyuu added.

"...I love him too," Sanemi murmured. 

"Sanemi?"

"What is it?"

Giyuu paused. "You haven't told me why you were... that." He motioned vaguely to Sanemi's chest where scars much too recent creviced his skin in a raw red.

Sanemi's lips tugged into a frown. "It's... it's nothing."

"Sanemi! I told you why I was doing it, you have to tell me why you were."

"...fine. I'll keep it brief." Sanemi reached up, pulling Giyuu back down. "Genya and Obanai." 

"Huh?"

"I understand where you're going at with your explanation for Obanai. If I think about it, I can pin point several times I could've jumped in which probably would've saved Genya's life—whether or not it took my own. Same for Obanai. Kanzaki was saying something about it, but I wasn't really listening. Survivor's guilt, she said. She said that sometimes it feels better to have died than to have survived." 

Giyuu nodded slowly. "It's not your fault, Sanemi."

"It's not yours either."

There was a silence—neither comfortable nor awkward. More thoughtful, both consumed in their minds.

"Sanemi?"

"Yes?"

"Do you wanna see Obanai's grave with me later? We can go to Genya's after," Giyuu suggested.

"...alright. Tomorrow, though. I'm tired."

Giyuu hummed in agreement, nuzzling his neck as his eyes fluttered close. "Tomorrow."

"I love you."

"Love you... both."

A pause. I love you.

Obanai's grave was covered in flowers, most colorful that could be found. Every day they were replaced with fresh ones, the old ones buried like Obanai.

I love you.

Obanai.

×××

« Word count: 5563 »

When you write endlessly more than you'd planned to

this was supposed to only be 1k words! Wth 😭

I liked writing it tho <3

[candaru]

no no. you don't get it. the reason I injure my blorbos until they can't walk is because that's the only way they'll ever let someone else carry them. the reason I curse them to be sick and feverish is so that they'll finally open up about their emotions while delirious. the reason I force them to overexert themselves to the point of exhaustion is so that when they pass out they can finally rest.

I'm doing this for their own good.

[questions-about-blorbos]

This request was sent to us and we made a poll in response to it. Send any Blorbo-related question you want to our inbox and we’ll make a poll on which people can vote with their own Blorbos in minds

[erabu-san]

Hug

[kitsunequeen1987]

@suraibru mentioned needing Kitsune × Damian content so I did a thing.

I'm a little surprised I came up with this so quick NGL dulfuofoudoud