#or else my delusions would shatter.

[newjenns]

i have such perfect delusions about timothee chálamet he is so perfect and pretty i never want to hear a single word from his mouth or know anything personal about him :)

[possamble]

Do you have any plan to make some kind of bonus chapter or oneshot about marcille's perspective in little creature? It's not like I'm asking you for it ofc!! it's just that i think it'll be interesting to read, and especially since you had those tags about marcille after her fight/outburst with falin and how you couldn't add it to the fic because the fic is from falin's perspective

Probably not about anything that happens during a little creature, but maybe something before or after? Sometimes I do like to do "the other character thinking back to events while doing stuff in a sequel" oneshot type thing, but we'll see how it shakes out!

[bellamygate]

i do not care what actors said bts if its not in the actual show for me to see with my EYES and naturally make the conclusion myself it didn't happen el oh el

[saintobio]

sincerely yours. (12)

↳ gojou satoru/reader

when a twist of fate led their marriage to the path of a quintessential tragic romance, two past lovers go through another series of experiences on love, heartbreak, identity, illness, and trauma along the road to a happily ever after. 

genre. heavy angst, amnesia, modern au, 18+ 

tags/warnings. depression, mentions of cheating, trauma, implied suicide attempt, toxic relationships, illnesses

notes. 11k wc. finally. i wrote this with only one eye open so please don't mind the inconsistencies, i'm trying my best to tie any loose ends before we reach the ending. if the writing feels rushed, it’s bcos i’m just ready to wrap up this series 😭

series masterlist -> episode thirteen

You thought everything that had happened last night was just a dream. 

Because you had gotten used to the constant disappointments and vicissitudes of your life, sharing such domestic bliss with the person you loved had started to feel far-fetched for you. It had become an unachievable fantasy, a colorful delusion created by your mind to conceal the actual darkness of pain that surrounded it. 

But as you opened your eyes that morning, the familiar warmth of a sleeping Satoru’s embrace was the reality you never saw coming. The steady rise and fall of his chest, the comfort of his arms around you, it all felt surreal—like a fragile dream teetering on the edge of shattering. You wondered if it would be okay to stay here for now. To forget about the rest of the damn world and remain in his arms, staring at his beautiful saintly face, listening to his slow and steady heartbeat.

When Satoru stirred from his sleep, you knew your daydream was over. But he was pulling you dangerously close with arms wrapped around your frame and his lips pressed against your forehead. He was only half-awake, it seemed. His long white lashes reminded you of Sachiro’s as you watched him mumble incoherent words from his sleep, something along the lines of, ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘Akemi’. 

That was your cue to pull yourself away from him. With guilt now coursing through your body, you sat up from bed and covered your naked body with the duvet. Akemi. You had completely abandoned the thought of Akemi last night, and now you were here in bed with ‘supposedly’ her man. As much as your heart was in bliss from last night’s events, the dark and cold reality was that you slept with a man who wasn’t yours. It was a principle you told yourself you would never cross, but everything concerning Satoru Gojou seemed to be bringing you to that. 

“Satoru, hey.” Your voice almost came out as a plea as you shook his arm, your guilt eating at you with every minute that passed. “Wake up.” 

His eyelashes fluttered as he struggled to open his eyes, blinded by the sunlight that gleamed through the window as he stretched his arms and looked at you. “Y/N?” he softly whispered, a hand tenderly placed on your back as he scooted closer. “What’s wrong?” 

Slight disbelief blanketed your gaze. “You think this isn’t wrong?” 

Satoru let out a sigh of exasperation, pulling his head back, and covering his eyes with a hand as if last night’s events played through his mind scene to scene. He was obviously caught in a mindwreck thinking about the girl he had just cheated on. “It shouldn’t be,” he mumbled, “But it feels like it.”

“So you do regret it,” you laughed at your own words, internally in pain. 

“I didn’t say that.” He finally pulled himself back up, sitting as he pulled you towards him. “Y/N, if we really thought last night was wrong, we would have stopped after the first time.” He shook his head at the irony. “Look, it’s on me, alright? I put you in this situation.” 

“And I allowed it,” you argued, “I allowed it, Satoru. It makes me feel dirty. I feel like, like I’m wrecking someone else’s home. It’s not me.” 

Satoru held his breath, a look of hesitation dawning on his face as he realized that this wasn’t just a dream of his. It was pure and raw reality that he had made a mistake that he could never undo. While thinking it through, he rubbed his eyes and sat up, leaning against the headboard as he assessed the situation. Then, he looked at you, his expression softening as he spoke, “No, not your fault. It’s just complicated,” he insisted, “You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m the one who owes ‘Kemi an apology.” 

Each time you heard her nickname from him was a punch to your gut. And each silent cuss that left his lips was an arrow to your heart. So you put it on yourself to accept his reaction. “It’s okay. You can be honest and say last night was a mistake.”

“No, no, no. I didn’t say that,” he replied quickly, reaching out to take your hand. 

But you already stood up from the bed, clutching the duvet around your body like a shield against the encroaching chill. Your throat felt tight, and tears threatened to spill, but you fought to keep them at bay. Satoru’s gaze followed you with an expression of helplessness, as if he was struggling to bridge the gap between his rights and wrongs.

As you turned to face him, a knot of frustration and heartache tangled within you. “So, what now?” you asked, trying your hardest to keep your composure. “How are we gonna fix this, Satoru? How?”

Before he could answer, the door to the cabin suddenly burst open, and Akemi stood in the doorway with her eyes wide with shock and fury. The confrontation followed as soon as she caught you in a compromising position with Satoru, and the words she uttered next were ones you least expected from her. 

“You’re a hypocrite! You’ve become the person you despised the most when you were married.” 

“You’re no better than Sera! And that’s why you’re miserable, and you’ll forever be miserable! If this is your way of getting back at me..” 

“Then jokes on you, because Satoru will never be faithful to you. He’ll keep cheating on you, just like he did now with me! You two belong in that cycle!”

You felt like an outsider in your own heartbreak, the confrontation intensifying as you tried to process the bitter truth in silence. All you could do was stand there and cry. Even Satoru’s attempts to placate Akemi were futile as her anger only seemed to grow. The more her eyes danced back and forth between you and her lover, the more she wanted to destroy everything in her path.

Satoru’s face was indiscernible from where you stood. “Akemi, please, just listen—”

Akemi, however, was already turning on her heel and storming back into her cabin while eliciting loud, muffled sobs. Your chest tightened with sorrow and shame. Complete, utter shame of doing this to another woman. How could you even correct a situation like this? How could you pick yourself back up after you just trampled on another woman’s feelings because of your actions?

Satoru, like you, hesitated on his next move, his eyes meeting yours with a look of anguish. “I need to talk to her, Y/N. I’ll be back.”

Without waiting for your response, he already bolted after her, leaving you alone in a quiet, pathetic state. The door slammed behind him, the sound reverberating through the cabin like thunder in a heavy storm.

You didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to face everyone, didn’t have the guts to even talk to Shoko and Suguru who now both have to deal with such scandals. You were too ashamed of yourself, as if your femininity had been stripped off its rights after you slept with the man you swore you would never get back with. 

“I didn’t mean it,” you could only silently whisper your laments, pacing around your cabin while swallowing the weakness that tried to escape. “I hate this.” 

The minutes dragged on, and each second stretched into an eternity as you waited for Satoru’s return. For now, you sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, wondering what excuse he was telling Akemi, and what actions he would do to try and calm her down. Did he kiss her, perhaps? Did he cup her face and tell her that you were nothing but a mistake? What was taking him so long? Or were they doing things to try and erase the same deeds you two did last night? 

The cacophony of voices and commotion from outside the cabin grew louder, and your curiosity led you to open your door, meeting the eyes of one of the hotel staff who sent you a look full of judgment. 

“Where’s…” you hesitated if she was the right person to ask, “Where’s Satoru? Would you know?” 

“Oh, ma’am. He already left the hotel half an hour ago… with Miss Akemi.” 

Her answer hit you hard like a truck on a highway. And your heart dropped as you realized who became The Fool in these deck of cards. Satoru had not only run off after Akemi, but had also left you behind without a word. 

The room felt colder now, the once-intimate sanctuary you shared with your ex-husband now a prison of your own grief. Even the familiar warmth of the bed seemed like a distant memory as you approached it, your body trembling as you thought of how you were treated like a dirty rag, thrown away after being used over and over again. 

With a soft, choked sob, you collapsed onto the bed, the duvet still a tangled mess from earlier. And your emotions, so tightly restrained, finally broke free. You pulled the blanket around you as if it could shield you from the crushing pain. The betrayal, the sense of being discarded for another—it all converged into a torrent of anguish. All you could do was cling to the duvet as if it were the only anchor in a stormy sea. 

——

Returning home didn’t make the situation any better. 

Although you tried to tell yourself that you shouldn’t be waiting on Satoru to contact you, you still found yourself checking your phone multiple times a day. Each second that passed without hearing from him was another stab to your heart. But it shouldn’t feel like that. It shouldn’t, not when Satoru clearly made his choice of choosing yet another woman over you. 

Of course, you knew what you did was wrong. In everyone’s eyes, sleeping with someone else’s man was unforgivable. There was no excuse, no way to justify your actions. Even if some people might side with you, saying you owed no one loyalty, it didn’t change how you felt about the whole situation. And that was because you remembered all too well the pain of being cheated on, and letting another woman endure the same heartbreak and betrayal was a weight on your conscience that you couldn’t ignore.

Sighing, you turned to the left side of the bed and saw Sachiro sleeping peacefully, clutching his favorite starfish plushie in his tiny arms. The thought of losing your son was unbearable, especially when he was your only source of calm amid the chaos that surrounded you. Caring for him was your solace, and his innocent presence served as a band-aid for your wounded heart. The most heart-wrenching part of this was knowing you couldn’t even repay him for the stability he brought you. Sachiro deserved a complete family to enrich his life, yet you—as his own biological mother—were unable to give him that. 

“Sleep tight, Sachi.” You lightly stroked his white hair before planting a soft kiss on his cheek. “Don’t let the bed bugs bite.”

The past few weeks had been a blur of emotions, work, and parenting—with each day blending into the next like a tornado of dull colors. You still hadn’t heard from Satoru, but the days of waiting and checking your phone for any notification from him did gradually stop. The only thing that didn’t stop replaying in your head like a broken record was the cabin incident, the very night that drew all these overthinking in your mind and in your heart. 

Returning to work did provide some distraction, but it didn’t take away the sting. It also didn’t help that your staff noticed the change in your demeanor, and how distracted you often were during your meetings and warehouse visits. Even Nobara was worried about how absentminded you had become, but you brushed off all their concerns with a forced smile. After all, staying at home would do you worse than being at work. 

Now, you were back in your office, and the soft knock on the door cut you off from your trance. It was Yuki peeking through the small opening on your door, her usual professional demeanor softened by a concerned expression. “Hey, Y/N. Do you have a minute?” she asked, stepping inside and closing the door behind her with a quiet click. 

You nodded, trying to muster a smile. “Sure, Yuki. What’s up?”

“I wanted to check in on you,” she began, taking a seat opposite your desk, “If you need to extend your vacation, please, by all means, go ahead. It’s off-season, anyway. I’ll take care of everything here while you’re focusing on yourself.”

That wasn’t really a good idea. And you shouldn’t be slacking off work when this very fashion house you establish used to be your passion, not your job. Yet here you were, losing all the inspiration to even run a business. “I don’t know if I have the energy for anything else right now.”

“Well, if you’re too worried about leaving work,” Yuki continued, her tone shifting to a more business-like note, “the progress we’ve made with Hearte is looking really promising. The new collection is getting great feedback, and our upcoming showcase is shaping up well. We’re on track for a strong quarter.”

“All because of you, Yuki.” A spark of gratitude appeared on your face. “Thanks for the update. It’s good to know things are moving in the right direction.”

She then stood up and gave you a reassuring smile. “I’m here if you need anything, Y/N. But seriously, take some time for yourself. You deserve it.”

On that same evening, you came home to your father’s mansion, and the first thing that greeted you when you entered the foyer was Gen sitting by the living room. And needless to say, her expression was a mix of concern and frustration as if she had been waiting for you to return. You weren’t really in the mood to have some back-and-forths with her, but you also didn’t like how she dropped her phone on the table and crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing at you like she was a mother who could scold you like a child.

“I’m not even gonna say anything at this point, but did you really do it with him?” Gen’s voice was low, but the disappointment was palpable. You could feel it from a few meters away. 

“What are you talking about?” you bit back, your already-terrible mood swings shifting into an unhealthy direction. 

Gen responded by pointing at her phone, gesturing for you to take a look at whatever’s on it. Reluctantly, you grabbed the device, and as you were scrolling through the screen, you stumbled upon a blind item circulating on social media. The words were vague but pointed, hinting at a scandalous encounter between two ex-spouses, both of whom were well-known figures. Great. Your heart stopped as you realized that the article was very much about you and Gojou. 

The online comments were brutal, not like you weren’t used to anonymous harassment anyway, but these ones were full of speculating and judging without knowing the full story. Everyone also seemed to be siding with “Ms. A” instead of you as though the person behind the article was clearly trying to paint you as the villain. It was written for the purpose of destroying your reputation rather than any regular exposé, and whoever wrote it was definitely someone who disliked you. 

Your shoulders slumped as you scrolled through hate comment after hate comment, a seemingly endless vitriol for someone they didn’t even know, and avoided your sister’s gaze knowing full well that seeing her expression would only make you feel worse. 

“Is it true?” your sister asked like there was even an ounce of chance that it was simply a rumor. Unfortunately, it was anything but. 

Sliding her phone back on the coffee table, you drew in a deep breath. “I can’t undo it, Gen. It happened.” 

“So, you did sleep with him? Am I hearing this right?” Gen sighed, rubbing her temples. “Do you have any idea what this could do to you? To Sachiro? People are ruthless, and now this blind item is all over the place and they’re targeting you like a punching bag!”

Your mouth felt heavy, as if it was weighed down by an invisible burden, making it difficult to form words or speak. And before you could think of a response, Ian became your temporary savior as he walked in with a calm but serious mien. “I’ve seen the post,” he said, holding up his phone. “It’s clearly defamatory, and we can take legal action. I’ll handle it.”

Even though Ian was a man of remarkable phlegm, you remained abashed, knowing that everyone’s feasting at the juicy rumor that you slept with your ex-husband. Yet, the only thing you could do was to put on a front. To save face. To act like someone you’re not. “Thank you, Ian. I’d appreciate that.”

Anticipating another lecture from Gen about Satoru, you began retreating to your room with your footsteps bouncing desperately on the grand staircase. This conversation was done. You just weren’t there to hear it anymore. However, as you climbed the stairs with a vacant mind, you could still hear your sister calling out to you.

“Y/N!” she called, her voice now tinged with concern. “I’m not going to give you a hard time. We can sort this issue out. Maturely.”

“I’m good.” Sorry, Gen. It was the anxious-avoidant side of you speaking. You didn’t want to discuss such a sensitive situation to anyone, even with your sister, because you weren’t ready to face all the negativity it would put you through. You were already dealing with enough, and going through yet another emotional turmoil might actually put you to your deathbed at this point. 

So, for now, isolating yourself from the world was the best choice. 

And as soon as you entered your room, you saw Sachiro’s nanny tucking him into bed. All your worries and self-destructive thoughts vanished in an instant the moment you looked at your son. It was like the heavens gave you your personal angel, a cute little cherub who brought nothing but light and happiness to your life. He was your sunshine, your shooting star, your bundle of joy. Nothing in this world could erase the pessimist in you than little Sachiro. 

“I got it from here.” You thanked the nanny and asked her to close the door before quickly joining your son in bed, wrapping him in a warm, comforting hug—more for your own comfort than his.

“Mama?” he asked, his voice unusually raspy, and his chest rising and falling heavily. “I mwiss you, mama!”

You pressed your lips onto his forehead. “I miss you too, my baby. How was daycare today?”

He seemed to struggle to speak too, but Sachiro still did his best to recount his day while he was trying to catch air in between his sentences. “Teacher ask Sachi to go home, mama. Sachi is tired.”

“Baby, are you okay? Are you sick?” Now, your motherly instincts kicked in immediately. You could tell something was wrong, so you reached for a thermometer from the bedside drawer to check his temperature, and listened to his breathing at the same time. “What happened to Sachi? Do you want Mommy to take you to the hospital?”

Sachiro shook his head and gave you a sleepy smile. “No, mama. Sachi is just sweepy.”

When the thermometer beeped, you were relieved to see that his temperature was normal. “Are you having trouble breathing, my sweetheart?” You looked into his droopy eyes and gently placed your hand on his chest. 

Once again, Sachiro shook his head. Maybe you were just overthinking. He often ran around the house or played in the bathtub before bed, which could explain why he seemed out of breath. It wasn’t the first time it happened. 

“Okay, Sachi. Go to sleep now. Close your eyes, baby.”

“Night night, mama.”

For now, you turned off the night lamp, and headed to the bathroom in silent and careful steps. It was quiet enough indeed, but in your head was an awful noise you couldn’t escape. And stepping into the shower only increased the warfare in your mind, as it immediately brought images of Satoru and Akemi back in the cabin, the harsh comments from the article, and the lack of contact from your ex-husband which all overwhelmed you at once. By now, he would have already seen that article. Nanami or Miwa might have already alerted him about it. But the fact that he said nothing, the fact that he let the public scrutinize you, destroy you with such vile, hurtful words behind their screens brought you a kind of pain that you wouldn’t wish upon anyone else. 

Because if it was Akemi in that position, he would have defended her in a heartbeat. 

So in your silence, under the cascading water of the shower, you let the tears flow—its warmth distinguishable compared to the cold droplets falling on you. If only you had successfully drowned yourself that night at the lake. If only Satoru didn’t pull you back in, none of this would have happened. 

That moment was deeply poignant to you, and you saw him in a new light you thought you would never see again because of the darkness of your past. Yet, with the events that followed your special moment, memories eventually turned into spite. Your sweet exchange twisted into something bitter. Looking back at that time when he kissed you at the lake now made you feel nauseous and hollow inside, with bile forming on your throat and threatening to be retched. 

The most gut-wrenching part about this was the fact that there wasn’t anyone left who could rescue you from this abyss of heartache anymore. 

——

There had been a sense of detachment in your emotions in the following days that passed, almost as though they belonged to a stranger inhabiting your body. Toji, the only person who comforted you at times like these, was no longer by your side to fulfill the warmth you once desperately sought, and now you were alone to face this cruel, mind-numbing battle all by yourself. It was you against the world. You against the entire populace inhabiting this living hell. And with that many enemies against one, how could you win? 

It was quite funny, actually, that your humor took a surprising turn when you thought of how Sera must have felt when it was revealed to the public that she was Satoru’s mistress. The irony didn’t even stop at your thoughts alone, it manifested itself outside Hearte’s headquarters, wearing a pink puffer jacket and a white prairie skirt. 

“Sera?” you blurted out her name in wonder, nonplussed as you got out of the car to approach her.

“Hey, Y/N.” She offered a casual smile while carrying an air of sophistication around her. That wasn’t the only thing that changed about Sera. Her hair was also shorter than the last you saw her, her face now sporting a more natural makeup, and her outfit a more modest yet classy choice. It was no longer the Sera who tried hard to fit in amongst the upper echelon of society, but a Sera who seemed to be satisfied at her current standing in life. 

What an awkward encounter. Was her presence your hypocritical reminder for sleeping with Satoru behind Akemi’s back? 

“What are you doing here?” you asked. 

And she answered with, “I read about what happened. You know, the thing on the internet.” She took a moment to pause, probably trying to choose the right words to say to her previous adversary. Because in a way, you two weren’t exactly friends. And you were no longer rivals either. Satoru was the only common denominator here, and Sera proved her exact sentiments about him by saying, “I just wanted to let you know that I understand your side. It’s a tough situation.”

You looked at her, searching for any hint of insincerity, but found none. “You were once on my spot,” you pointed out and gauged whether or not she would take the bait. For all you know, she could be putting on an act. “I’m assuming you’re here to rub it in my face how much of a hypocrite I am.” 

“No, that’s not it.” Sera was vehemently denying any malice on her intentions, and was instead trying to show you the sympathy of a woman who was once caught in the same predicament. “Look, I know it’s weird that I’m here out of all people. But the truth is, I just had to let you know that someone’s on your side. I’ve met the girl, okay? That… whoever she is. I don’t remember her name, and I hate having to pit two women against each other, but I’m telling you it’s about time you cut Satoru off your life. Completely. She doesn’t look like someone who’d easily let go. You’re just gonna suffer, Y/N.” 

Perhaps three years was too far back in your life and that tables could turn in a direction that you didn’t expect, as you could recall fragments of memories from when your only dilemma was dealing with Satoru and Sera in your marriage. She used to be besotted with your ex-husband back then. But now, it wasn’t until you heard the way she spoke about him that you realized she must be harboring a grudge deeper than you had imagined. After all, he did ruin her life in ways you couldn’t imagine. And her advice, though unsolicited, made sense. Because you could understand where she was going with it. You could see the true intentions clearly conveyed by her face.

The only problem here was that you didn’t have it in your heart to agree with her. You were too much of an empathic person to be taking sides, even if the supposed villain in this painting was the ex-husband who, time and time again, hurt you. Your heart stubbornly cared for Satoru deep down, and your wifely instinct of defending him no matter how poorly he acted had always been there. No one could hate Satoru more than you did, that was true, but you also weren’t very accepting of hearing others describe him as this ruthless, cheating bastard. 

That was the reason why talking to Gen had eventually exhausted you. Because no one knew the real Satoru Gojou behind his facade of an irresponsible and reckless husband. 

“Now that you’re here…” The idea to redirect the conversation to another topic struck you, unwilling to engage in a conversation that pushed Satoru in a bad light. “Would you be interested in being a model for our upcoming campaign? We’re launching a new collection, and I think you’d be perfect.”

Sera’s eyes were an amalgam of confusion and surprise. “Uh, I mean… I’d love to, but why so sudden?” 

“You have the face for it.” You shrugged, but still sent a smile her way. “Are you working right now? If not, this could open doors for you to be discovered by modeling agencies. I’m closely tied with them since I work in the fashion industry, so I can do a few calls if you want.” 

“Hold on, I’m—” Sera touched her head, laughing as if she were dreaming this conversation. “Y/N, you’re doing too much here. I mean, I’d obviously love that, but wouldn’t it be awkward? People know me as your ex-husband’s mistress, and if they recognize me in Hearte ads, I’m sure as hell those fuck ass netizens won’t stop talking about it.”

She had a point, a very good point, but then again, your suggestion was only brought up because you had to change the topic. “Well, it’s just an offer to consider in the future.” 

“And I appreciate you always extending a hand to help me even if I did you wrong in the past,” she said, feelings of shame lacing her voice. “I haven’t forgotten about what you did for my brother, that’s why I’m here. I’m not your enemy anymore, Y/N.”

Just then, the roaring engine of a classic red Ferrari pulled up to the curb, interrupting the unexpected conversation you were having with your ex-husband’s former mistress. The window rolled down to reveal a pink-haired man whom you recognized as Ryomen Sukuna, an up and coming tech mogul, that Toji had mentioned about many times before. His eyes were only on one woman alone, and it wasn’t you. “Ready to go, babe?”

Honestly, good for Sera. No wonder her aura had become different. They seemed to be in a stable committed relationship, something that you could only ever dream about. If karma was truly real, this was the perfect example for it. 

In the back seat, you spotted a younger boy who looked exactly like Sukuna and, surprisingly, Megumi, the son of your ex-fiancé. Really? How many more people were you going to ‘coincidentally’ run into today? 

“Hello, miss!” the other boy called out cheerfully, while Megumi offered a polite nod. You replied with a wave, feeling a small sense of normalcy in their innocent presence.

“I gotta get going, Y/N,” excused Sera, gesturing a civil goodbye. 

But as she moved to get into the car, your phone buzzed in your pocket. A single glance at the screen made your heart drop. It was a call from the hospital.

“Hello?” you answered almost immediately, pressing the phone on your ears with a tight push.

“Ms. Y/N, this is the hospital. Your son, Sachiro Gojou, is in the ICU. We need you to come as soon as possible.”

Your stomach contracted into a tight ball as you stood rigid with terror. Then and there, the world seemed to tilt on its axis. “Wh-What do you mean he’s in the hospital?!” you managed to shout, swept by horripilation from the sudden news. “What happened to my son?! What’s—!” 

Sera’s concerned gaze met yours as you desperately yelled into the phone, hyperventilating. Your trembling hand was threatening to drop the phone. “Y/N, is everything okay?”

“My son… I… he…,” you stammered, your voice shaky with fear and urgency. Your muscles locked in a momentary paralysis, eyes wide with astonishment, and surprise rendering you immobile. The thought of Sachiro in a critical state was about to make you faint, with the last bits of images you saw that afternoon were of Sera and her boyfriend rushing to catch you from completely falling to the ground. 

——

Megumi didn’t know how to deliver the bad news. 

He came home after Yuuji’s brother rushed you to the hospital, shocked by everything that happened in a span of a single day. His mind was aching from all the thinking he was doing; praying that little Sachiro will be fine, hoping that you would stay strong throughout, and lastly, wondering how he would break it to his dad that something terrible had happened. 

His father wasn’t exactly the greatest man to tread this Earth, especially not after the drunken words he had ‘mistakenly’ uttered to you that night in Miami that resulted in your separation. Yes, Megumi knew every word and detail. His father told him everything just as a sober man would. Did you really think that the Toji Zen’in you knew would sputter that utter nonsense to you? That you had an empty soul. That he couldn’t be with someone like you. That you would forever be a placeholder to Megumi’s mother. Bullshit. None of those were true. His father told him that the reason he had to say those words, as piercing and trenchant as they may be, was because it was the only way he could free you from being caged in a relationship your heart didn’t genuinely want. 

It was Toji’s last resort to hurt you with his words, hoping that you would wake up from your false fantasy and finally have a reason to leave a relationship with a man that wasn’t Satoru Gojou. If Megumi’s father wasn’t at the top of the list of Forbes’ richest men in Japan, he would have felt a great deal of inferiority complex over a younger man like Gojou. Not because of his looks and his riches, but because he had you. No matter what Satoru did, no matter how many times he hurt you, he was and would always be that man you wanted to be with. 

Sighing, Megumi’s first task upon coming home was to check on his father’s room, only to find the dark room void of its owner. When he made his way down the grand staircase, he met an ill-spirited Naoya who was ranting to Mai about Sera flaunting Sukuna in front of his face. Megumi’s sigh was then followed by another. The drama in this house was relentless. He felt like he was exhaling endlessly, like a malfunctioning appliance. 

“Where’s dad?” asked Megumi, directing her question to a more rational Maki. 

The tall, green-haired girl gave him a knowing shrug. “You already know,” she said, “Drowning himself in alcohol down at the bar.” 

As always. 

Megumi jogged around the estate to eventually find his father at one of the wet bars near his home office. He was there, seated on a stool, his head drooping low with a glass of premium scotch in hand. How many glasses he’d had, Megumi could only hope the numbers weren't that high. But upon approaching his father, his presence was barely acknowledged as he sat on the stool next to him, suggesting that the grown man might be more inebriated than his son had expected.

“Dad,” spoke the Zen’in heir, “Dad, you good?” 

Toji lifted his head up, three sheets to the wind, as a smile crept up on his scarred lips. “Son.” 

“Let me take that.” Megumi grabbed a hold of the glass of scotch, sliding the strong liquor away from his father. “There’s something I ought to tell you.” 

Toji stayed nonchalant, sitting upright and tapping his fingers on the counter. “What’s it about this time?” he asked. “I’ve told you, I can’t stop the elders from arranging your marriage unless you’re honest with me about someone you like. I know you have someone in mind, but you’re not saying who. Are you just shy?”

Megumi gave his father a look of exasperation. He’s rambling, he thought, frustrated with his father’s inebriated chattering. “It’s not about that. It’s about Y/N-san.”

The mention of your name was the only thing that made Toji's demeanor shift to one of genuine concern. “What happened?”

“Sachi’s in a critical condition,” the younger Zen’in went straight to the point, “Y/N-san went manic over it and fainted before we could get her to the hospital.”

Toji was quick to grab his coat and car keys, as if all the alcohol in his system had immediately evaporated. But before he could leave, Megumi caught his father’s arm and pulled him back. 

“What?” said Toji, concern and urgency blanketing his gaze. “I need to be with her.” 

“Do you really need to?” Megumi countered. “Dad, I know it’s not right for me to stop you in this crucial situation, but are you gonna do this every time she’s in trouble? Do you plan to do this forever? Do you plan to keep drowning yourself in alcohol thinking about her? We care for her like family, that’s true, but you and her aren’t a thing anymore. Your responsibilities in taking care of her should stop, too. You, yourself, said it’d be best if she stopped being reliant on you. Now, do yourself a favor and stop trying to be this pathetic superhero.” 

The concern etching on Tojis’s face softened into a sense of realization, a sense of candidness that only someone as straightforward as his own son could evoke. Megumi had to, not because he didn’t care for you anymore, but because he had to ensure he wouldn’t lose his father over a relationship that had already ended. Toji was the only real family Megumi had left. 

“Stay, dad,” he pleaded, “Please.”

Toji took a deep breath and released it in the same second. “Okay,” he softly said, ruffling his son’s hair. “I won’t leave.” 

——

Why is it that you keep attracting things, places, and people that you disliked the most? 

You hated hospitals, and you had spoken about it enough to make it clear how much you dreaded going to a place where your worst memories had taken root. Yet, the sterile environment seemed to beckon you, dragging you back with a new nightmare each time. It was beyond your worst fears that you would find yourself racing through the halls mere minutes after regaining consciousness, desperately trying to reach where your son was.

Please be okay. Please be okay. 

Frantically, you scanned the corridors, searching for the ICU and hoping that what you had just heard was nothing more than a cruel illusion, that this was all just a nightmare. You weren’t a deeply devout person, but you did send prayers to every saint you could think of, hoping that Sachiro’s current state wasn’t in the median between life and death. 

Because if you lost your son, then there was no point in living anymore. This life wouldn’t be worth enduring. 

“Y/N!”

You weren’t the first one to arrive outside the pediatric ICU, with Gen and your father already being there moments before you came. You were struggling to breathe by the time you reached them, feeling your heart race with a thunderous beat. “Gen… Dad, what h-happened to him?” You couldn’t stop the weakness in your voice. “Tell me he’s fine, please. Please. My baby. If anything h-happens to him, I’m g-gonna die, Gen! I c-can’t h-have that!”

Gen quickly enveloped you in a tight embrace, trying to offer any form of comfort she could. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. Dad and I are just as shocked.” She held you closer, her voice trembling as she, too, was just as anxious as you. “Sachi refused to eat and complained about having a hard time breathing. He was so pale and his lips were blue. We knew we had to rush him to the hospital immediately.”

“Oh my God.” Your hand flew to your mouth, trying to stifle the uncontrollable cries that were escaping. The news of Sachiro developing cyanosis shattered your heart, and the crushing reality that you weren’t there to take care of him tore you apart. “My baby, no. No, no. H-He—”

“Y/N!” 

Out of breath and also visibly shaken was the father of your son, Satoru, who came running to your side the moment his eyes landed on you. Behind him was his mother, clutching a rosary in her hand as both of them were seemingly shell-shocked in the same magnitude as you and your family were. Everyone cared for Sachiro’s well-being, everyone prayed for his safety, and the thought of losing an angel like your son was a soul-crushing thought that sent you slipping into a chasm of suffering.  

“Wh-What happened to Sachi?” Satoru asked in desperation, his question raised to everyone in the vicinity—you, your family, the nurses. But no one could give him a decent answer. “Please, tell me my son’s alright. Tell me.” 

You watched him walk in circles, raking his fingers through his hair as if he was seeking anything to hold onto. And you, feeling that magnet that pulled you closer to him, broke away from Gen’s embrace to look at your son’s father. “Satoru…” 

“Y/N,” his voice cracked as he met your gaze, “Our son.” He stopped, ready to wrap you in a hug—a moment of solace you both desperately needed in this critical time. But just as he pulled you close in a fragile attempt to find comfort together, the door to the ICU swung open, abruptly ending the brief respite.

All of you immediately rushed over to the doctor, the sterile white walls and the distant hum of hospital machinery did nothing to calm the turmoil inside you. 

“Doctor, how’s he?” 

“How’s my grandson, doc?”

“Doc, my son, is he okay?” 

“Is he stable, doc?” 

“Doctor, how’s my son, please?” you asked, your body growing tense to the point of shaking.

The doctor took a deep breath, his expression serious amidst the fusillade of questions thrown at him. “We’re currently running a series of tests on the patient. We suspect Sachiro may have congenital heart disease, specifically a ventricular septal defect with associated pulmonary hypertension.”

No, it can’t be. It’s not possible! The words hit you like a punch to the gut. You struggled to process the information, your vision blurring with tears and your heart drumming a rapid staccato inside. You didn’t need to look at everyone to know that they all, for a moment, looked at you. “Heart disease? But… how? I didn’t think—”

“Can you explain more, doc? Please.” Gojou was desperate, his bright blue eyes now dull and severely clouded with a brewing storm. It was as if he was keeping himself from crying.

The doctor continued gently, “VSD is a condition where there’s a hole in the heart’s ventricular septum. It can lead to pulmonary hypertension, which means the blood pressure in the lungs is elevated. It’s a serious condition, but we’re doing everything we can to assess the extent and provide the best treatment.”

“N-No, oh God. My baby.” You felt your knees go weak, and you sank down against the wall, with more tears cascading down your cheeks like waterfall. The weight of the diagnosis was crushing, but the hardest part was realizing that this was something you had unknowingly passed on to Sachiro. The heart disease was inherited from you and had now manifested in your beloved son.

It’s my fault. It’s my fault! 

The doctor placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “We’ll keep you updated as soon as we have more information. Please, try to stay calm, Y/N. It’s not best for your heart to panic right now. Sachiro is in good hands.”

You were unable to speak through the sobs that wracked your body. The hospital corridor felt endless, and you couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt and helplessness that consumed you. You could feel all eyes on you, judging, harboring hatred, carrying deep-rooted resentment. You were torn apart by the knowledge that the very thing you had feared most was now a reality for your son.

“It’s… It’s my fault,” you sobbed, covering your face with your quivering hands, “This is all my fault. I gave it to Sachiro, I… I’m a terrible mother!” 

Gen knelt beside you, her hands gripping your shoulders with a firm yet gentle touch. “Y/N, stop it. This is not your fault. You didn’t choose this for Sachiro.”

Your father, who had been pacing anxiously nearby, joined in. “Your sister’s right. You’re blaming yourself for something beyond your control. We’re all here for you. We’ll figure this out.”

But amidst your familial exchange, Satoru stood nearby, frozen and listless. His silence only added to the overwhelming distress. Was he also blaming you for what Sachiro was going through right now? Was he also angry at you for putting his son into this critical situation? 

Suddenly, a familiar voice cut through the commotion—voice that was equally harsh and spiteful. It was Satoru’s mother, boring her fiery eyes into your skull as she opened her mouth. “That’s right! You’re self-aware, aren’t you?” she spat and stood rigidly, arms crossed defensively over her chest. “This is all your fault. You’re such an irresponsible mother! You can’t even take care of my grandson properly, and now you’ve passed your disease onto him!”

You looked up in shock, seeing Satoru’s mother standing there with a disdainful expression. The sting of her words felt like a knife twisting in your heart, because they were true. They were painful, yes, but they were true. And all you could do was lower yourself until you were sitting on your haunches, trying to make yourself as small as possible. 

“Excuse me?!” Gen stood up, her eyes blazing with anger that came from the deepest pits of hell. “You’re unbelievable, Auntie. How dare you speak to my sister like that! You have no right to blame her for this. I hope to God it was you in the ICU right now instead of Sachiro!”

“You…!” 

Satoru’s mother raised a hand to slap Gen, but your father stepped forward, his face a mix of disbelief and indignation. “This is despicable. How can you stand here and say such things to someone who’s already suffering? Weren’t you friends with my wife once?”

Satoru, who had been standing still, suddenly moved with a menacing calm. His face was hard as stone, and his eyes narrowed in anger. What was scarier was him approaching his mother with a threatening stance. “Are you really this pathetic, mother?” Satoru questioned with a cold, cutting tone. “Do you get off on making Y/N suffer? Do you think you’ve gotten away with slapping her behind my back? You don’t get to blame Y/N for anything. Any fucking thing!”

His mother’s eyes widened in shock, but she tried to defend herself at the ruthless stance her son was carrying. All of you were stunned at the realization of how Satoru resembled his cruel father at that moment. “B-But Satoru, my son—”

“Shut up!” Satoru cut her off, his voice harsh and unforgiving, before he threw his cold knuckles against the hard surface of the concrete wall. “I don’t want to see your face ever again! Don’t consider yourself my mother any longer, you witch. You’ve lost that privilege.”

This took a wild turn, and hearing the brutality of Satoru’s words was like a thunderclap in the tense atmosphere. His mother’s face turned pale, her mouth opening and closing in shock as she struggled to respond.

“Get out of here,” Satoru commanded, his voice uncaring towards her. “Leave, and don’t ever come back. You’re nobody to me now.”

With that, Satoru’s mother turned and fled, stumbling down the corridor as if she was the victim in this situation. However, the tension in the air began to dissipate as soon as she left, leaving you, Satoru, Gen, and your father in a heavy silence. Only your sniffles could be heard. 

Even Gen, who was often hostile around your ex-husband, had remained quiet and composed after she watched him take such drastic measures to keep his mother away.

Everyone was silent. Pure, unbothered silence until Satoru’s phone began to buzz loudly, cutting through the stillness of the hallway. For a moment, he closed his eyes, then he fished his phone out of his pocket where you caught a glimpse of the caller ID. 

Akemi. 

——

The ICU only allowed short visits and one person at a time, so there was no need for everyone to stay the night. You were the parent, you were the one responsible for your son’s situation, so you insisted it was best for your dad and Gen to go home and get some rest. You didn’t mind watching over your son for the whole night, because coming home without him was the last thing you would do right now.

My precious angel.

Sachiro lay in the hospital bed, his small chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. The doctors had managed to stabilize him for now, and the sight of his heart monitor showing a stable rhythm was a small comfort amidst the chaos.

Still, you sat by his bedside, mindful of your timed visit as your hands gently held his tiny ones, feeling the warmth of his small fingers. You glanced down at the medical report on your other hand, trying to make sense of the complex terms and figures.

The words blurred together as your tears fell silently onto the paper. “I’m sorry, baby.” He didn’t deserve this. He’s just a baby. “Mommy’s very sorry.”

You tried to stay strong, putting on a brave face for your son, but inside, you were falling apart. It was impossible not to blame yourself over this, wishing you could do more than just be present around him. This was the comeuppance of your own actions after you focused on your own emotions for the past few weeks to the point of neglecting your son’s wellbeing. If you had been more present in his life, if you had been more observant, you would have easily noticed the signs. Now, you allowed Satoru to find a flaw in your duty as a mother, and he could cite this very event as evidence to get full custody of him. That is, if he were to ever consider taking your son away from you. 

But in the first place, he should be the last person to do that, because where exactly was he now? 

Your thoughts kept drifting back to the earlier scene, where he excused to answer Akemi’s call, and later that night told you he had to leave and “check something” urgently. He promised he’d be back before midnight, but where was he? 

Resentment began to fester within you.

You had been very perceptive of Akemi’s feelings, apologetic in the way you supposedly betrayed her, but the fact that she was still scrambling for Satoru’s attention in the midst of your son’s hospitalization was something you could never forgive her for. 

And as for Sachiro’s father, how could he prioritize another woman when his own son was in such a critical state? The confusion of his actions was overwhelming. It felt like a cruel deja vu that, at a time when you needed him the most, he was choosing to be elsewhere. You could accept it if it was a choice between you and another woman, but between his son and her? His behavior was unacceptable, disgusting even, and it only served to deepen your grudge against him.

You clenched your fists, trying to push away the surge of anger that threatened to consume you after seeing that the disparity in his actions felt like both a betrayal and a slap to the face. Your poor son. You stared at Sachiro’s peaceful face and stroked his cheek. How could Satoru be so indifferent to his own flesh and blood?

The room was silent except for the soft beeping of the heart monitor and your quiet sobs. The situation was almost too much to bear, and your resentment towards Gojou grew heavier by the second. Each minute felt like a lifetime, and the emptiness left by his absence was a constant reminder that yet again he chose another woman over his own family.

It’s okay. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. I won’t leave you, Sachi. For Sachiro’s sake, you needed to find the strength to carry on, to be the mother he needed in this moment of crisis and never again failing to be there for your only child. 

At exactly 10:30 pm, the nurse came in and told you visiting hours were over. You complied. 

At 11:00 pm, Ian paid you a quick visit and talked to the nurses, perhaps giving them reminders to look after you. 

At 12:00 am, you were alone again. Seated at one of the benches outside the ICU—sleepless, starving, and nauseous. 

At 2:00 am, you remained in your seat despite the sterile smell of antiseptic mingling with your own discomfort. The flickering fluorescent lights above did little to help you get some proper sleep. The cold air-conditioning alao made you shiver slightly, hugging your own body to try and give yourself some warmth. 

At 4:00 am, you awakened from the noise of the movements beside you. Realizing you had fallen asleep, you looked up and saw Satoru taking a seat to your left. His coat was draped over his arm, and he offered it to you.

“Are you cold?” he asked, his voice softer than usual, but you could see the bags under his eyes suggesting the sleepless nights he’d had for the past few days. “You can use my coat.”

You took the coat, but as you caught a whiff of it, a familiar scent of Akemi’s perfume lingered. Rose Prick by Tom Ford. It was a scent you’d come to recognize after your years of being her best friend, and it made your stomach turn slightly. Without any hesitation, you handed the coat back to him. “No, thank you. I’m fine,” you replied, avoiding his gaze. Looking into his eyes was the last thing you would do. 

And you knew Satoru was sighing, but didn’t press the issue. “The nurse mentioned you haven’t eaten today.” He pulled out a small bag of assorted fruits, placing it gently on the seat between you. You eyed the offerings, feeling a pang of hunger but also a strange aversion. “I bought some fruit. Is there anything you like?”

You took a deep breath and broke the silence with a hint of sarcasm. “You’re really good at this, huh?”

“At what?” was his immediate question, puzzled.

“Hitting two birds with one stone.”

“Y/N…”

“Stop trying to take care of me,” you interrupted, your tone sharper than intended. “ I don’t need it.”

“But—”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “You can’t even be here for Sachi. You can’t even choose your son. He’s in a life and death situation and we’re still only receiving scraps of your attention.” It was the deep-seated grudge spilling out of you. “You’re so good at abandoning people, huh? Even though that’s what you hate the most. You’re so good at disappearing without even a text or call to check on me and our son. After that night at the cabin, you just…” you paused, realizing that you were opening too much of your heart to a man who didn’t deserve it. “Forget it. Just go home to Akemi. Live a happy life, build a family with her. Forget us. I don’t care. I’ll take care of Sachiro myself. I’ve done it for three years!”

“Y/N, I’m not trying to hurt you. I just…” Satoru fumbled for words, his somber blue eyes bearing the history of your shared heartbreak. It was as though the painful memories of your past were flooding his thoughts, seeking justification as to why he couldn’t pick you again this time. “I had to be there for her. She’s…”

You turned away before he could see your expression, because your heart was splintering at the thought of Satoru Gojou shattering it once more. As he always did. There seemed to be no end to this relentless heartbreak, as if any hope of a happy ever after with the man you loved would only return a pain that was a hundred times worse. Perhaps, this was destiny’s way of telling you that you and him weren’t meant to be. That any wishful thinking of being with Satoru again was only something that you could expect in another universe.

So, in your defense, you had to pull on a facade. A mask that you had to wear in the face of being the target of never-ending despair. “Satoru, I don’t want to talk about it,” you said firmly, concealing the raw ache in your voice with a smile. “And I don’t expect you to choose me every time. It’s okay. It’s happened before.”

“Can’t you see I’m hurting, too?” he asked, his voice breaking. Though you couldn’t see his face, the tremor in his voice revealed his struggle to hold back tears. 

You couldn’t understand why he would be hurting with his decision. When faced with two crossroads, he always seemed to pick the path that led away from you. So instead of trying to comprehend his pain, you decided it was time to honor your own. For your sake. For Sachiro’s. 

“Let’s just forget about that night,” you declared, wiping your eyes as you got up from your seat and prepared to walk away. “From this day forward, let’s pretend it never happened.”

——

Akemi’s apartment was dark when Satoru stepped inside. 

And to be honest, the darkness was a relief. At least, she wouldn’t be able to see the lassitude etched on his face, not just from juggling his time between his son and her, but from the constant ache of hurting the person he loved.

Miscommunication is a couple’s greatest enemy, and the persistent disconnect between you two, coupled with the reluctance to clear things up, had worn Satoru down. He wanted to end this—the feeling of helplessness and the torment of seeing the woman he cared for caught in a labyrinth of despair.

The hospital visits to Sachiro alone had been a whirlwind of emotions and responsibilities, and this brief visit to Akemi felt like an unwelcome detour, but one he couldn’t avoid. Satoru knew his heart wanted to stay in the hospital with you, to wait for any updates on his son, to hold your hand and care for you, yet here he was, dragging his feet across the carpeted floors to approach Akemi. 

“Hey.” She was sitting on the couch, looking frail but alert as if she had been desperately waiting on his arrival. She had recently started treatment for her stage 3 endometrial cancer, and Satoru could see the toll it was taking on her, physically and emotionally. He would be cruel to leave her hanging like this, to neglect her at her worst when she had been there by his side at his. Satoru had an unspoken accountability on her, because it wouldn’t be fair for him to just abandon her after she poured all her heart and soul into helping Gojou get back onto his own feet.  

“Hey, ‘Kemi,” he said, his tone soft but distant. “Did you take your meds today?”

Akemi looked up at him, her eyes tired and heavy. “I did. I took them just like the doctor said. How’s Sachiro?”

Gojou’s expression tightened. “He’s holding steady at the moment.”

A heavy silence settled between them before Akemi broke the tension. “I’m glad he’s stable,” she said, quietly. “Are you okay?”

He nodded once, his mind already drifting back to the hospital. “Yeah. Listen, I need to head back soon. Nanami and Miwa will be alternating in looking after you from now on. They’ll make sure you’re okay while I’m dealing with Sachiro. I have to focus on my son.”

Akemi’s frail hand reached out to gently grip his arm, the other held her lower abdomen in pain. “Satoru, please don’t go just yet. Can’t you stay a little longer?”

Now’s not the time to feel guilty. It was either her or Sachiro. Her or his son. Gojou decided to pull his arm away gently, his gaze distant. “Sachiro needs me, Akemi. You know that.”

Akemi’s face fell, but she knew it would be ridiculous to argue over that. “No, I understand. I get that. I want you to focus on Sachi, too. I just wish—” Before she could finish, her voice faltered, and she looked up at him with a hesitant gaze. “Satoru, do you regret that I took you back even if you cheated on me?”

The question caught him off guard, and Satoru’s blue eyes narrowed as he processed her words. He had been so focused on his responsibilities and the immediate crisis that he hadn’t given much thought to their ‘relationship’. All he knew was when he showed up at her doorstep back at the cabin, he was only going to try and end things with her. He was only going to clarify the longstanding feelings you and him poured out to each other that night, which was why he ended up sleeping with his ex-wife. But because Akemi suffered at the time, because her pelvic pain worsened to the point of an emergency, he had to hold back and just take care of her in the weeks that passed. He was caged in this situation like a prisoner who was found guilty for the crimes he had committed.

Just be honest, Satoru. Disregard everything else and just be honest. Satoru believed it was about time he stood his ground no matter the consequences. “You can’t take me back if we’re not together, ‘Kemi,” he breathed out those words, reticent on hurting her with the truth. If she would lash out on him, throw a vase on his head, slam a book on his face—he wouldn’t mind. He was ready to accept all the violence he deserved from being an asshole. “You knew from the start that this, us, was only temporary. It was never supposed to be serious.” 

Her expressions turned doleful. “Then, in that case, did you at least…” Tears welled up in her eyes as she she paused, “Did you at least love me?”

“I just… I never saw it that way, Akemi.” Satoru’s honesty would destroy her, but he didn’t want to keep on sending out false hopes. He had to be firm, and while he was grateful for everything she did for him, that doesn’t mean he owed her his life and loyalty. In the first place, he warned her that he wasn’t ready to be in a relationship. And God, he was far from ready to even settle down, yet Akemi constantly hinted at wanting to tie the knot with him. Again and again did she mention the thought of a wedding and a child and her own family. 

Satoru wanted all those things too, but with another person in mind. He was only set on having those things with one woman.

Akemi’s face paled upon hearing his answer and the fact that he didn’t even bother to explain himself. “I see. I guess I needed to hear that.”

Gojou looked at her with a mix of regret and sympathy. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for hurting you like this, I really do.”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

It definitely wasn’t fine, but Satoru had to take her word for it as he got out from the couch and gave her a gentle pat on the head. “I have to go. Nanami will be here soon. Please make sure to follow the treatment plan and take care of yourself.”

Akemi nodded, though her gaze remained fixed on the floor, unable to meet his eyes. “Alright. I’ll see him when he gets here.”

As Gojou turned to leave, he felt a pang of guilt twisting deep in his gut but pushed it aside. He was a father first before anything else. Sachiro would always be his first and foremost priority amongst everything else. 

——

After leaving Akemi’s place, Satoru was driving his car into the evening air beyond the speed limit. And his mind was racing together with him as he thought of you, your son, and the myriad of emotions he was struggling to manage. He couldn’t wait to be home, not literally at his own place, but anywhere with you and his son was his definition of home. 

It would be diabolical for him to run into your arms and yell, ‘I’m free! We can be together again!�� No, that would be cruel and disgusting. He respected Akemi just as he respected you. It was himself that he couldn’t respect, because he was the one responsible for the mess that he created. And adding Sachiro’s critical condition on top of the already festering wounds in your relationship? It truly was the manifestation of karma in his actions. 

His footsteps bounced through the hospital corridors the moment he arrived, each impatient step was ready to see your face and tell you he would never leave you and Sachiro now. But as he neared the pediatric ICU, his eyes darted around, the sight of his ex-wife was nowhere to be found. And instinctively, his heart pounded in his chest, and a drum of panic seemed to warn him of a storm that was about to come. Something was off, and it scared him. 

“Nurse,” he called out, his voice edged with urgency as he approached their station. “Where’s my wife? The boy’s mother?”

The nurse looked up, recognizing the infamous CEO’s face. “Uh, Mr. Gojou, she was heading to the rooftop, I think.”

“What?!” he unintentionally yelled at her face, “Why didn’t you guys keep an eye on her?” 

“Sir, calm down. She’s probably going to get some fresh air.”

A cold chill ran down his spine. You were definitely not there for that. 

Without another word, he sprinted towards the stairs, taking them two at a time instead of waiting at an elevator together with a group of people. He had to get to you as soon and as fast as he could without another second to waste. Although the climb felt endless, his mind racing with fear and dread was the push he needed to finally reach you. 

And upon bursting through the door to the rooftop, he was met with the soft whisper of the evening wind and the heart-stopping sight of you standing perilously close to the edge.

“Y/N!” he called out, his voice breaking with desperation. “Don’t do this. Please, step back.”

You stood motionless, eyes fixed on the distant horizon, the city lights blurring into a kaleidoscope of sorrow. “The world hates me, Satoru,” you whispered, the mellow tone of your voice carried away by the wind. “I’m a burden to everyone, even my own child. I-I just… I want to end it all.”

“No!” Satoru’s heart shattered at your words while he moved closer, his hands outstretched and careful not to startle or provoke you. He was dying to have you in his arms and keep you safe. “Y/N, please. Come back. What about Sachi? What about me? We need you. Sachiro needs you. I need you.”

What exactly made you go here? How did thoughts of ending yourself suddenly come into fruition? Was there something you discovered that brought you to this ultimatum? Gojou was desperate, utterly desperate, to hear what was running through your mind so that he could at least ease the burden that you were carrying all by yourself. He was once in the position where he wanted to commit too, and he knew the temptation that came with permanently escaping the cruelty of the world in just a single action. 

“Y/N, please. Please, I’m begging. Come to me,” he rattled on in a suffocating whisper, the pleading in his voice was heavy, “Please. I love you. Only you.”  

It was when you turned around that Gojou’s world collapsed, and the words you said after had shattered his entire universe. 

They were still. 

You. 

And the wind. 

“I’m pregnant,” you finally confessed, voice cracking as you looked at the faint tears that fell from Satoru’s eyes. “I don’t wanna have this baby.” 

[shotmrmiller]

Needs must II

Pairing: Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x F!Reader

WC: 1.9k

TW: unprotected p in v and smut + jealous Simon

It’s been months since you started your business arrangement with Ghost. Once a month, he’d test your very limits with a different kink of your choice. The sex was fantastic, and the way he treated you as if you were the only woman for him like he had feelings for you, had your heart soaring. He would sometimes even stay the night, and leave in the morning. 

It was only a matter of time before your dream came crashing down.

—

You texted him one day, asking if he was available for a work dinner as your plus one, and he responded that he couldn’t. I’m not available that weekend, he had said. How naive you were, thinking that maybe he had some friends to meet up with or something.

 I’ve got a couple of clients to meet. 

Silly little you, with your heart on your sleeve, asked him if he couldn’t cancel or postpone, that he didn’t need to have sex with you. 

This is my job, lovie. 

Just like that, your illusion shattered. His job, his job, his job. It’s all you were. All the lingering touches, the whispered words in your ear as he fucked you dumb with every sensual roll of his hips. A bloody job. Your tears welled up slowly but refused to fall. It’s your delusion that had led you here, heart aching over an escort. You were a big girl. You’d get over it.

Well, do you know someone else that can accompany me?

And that’s how you ended up with Johnny. He was beautiful, to say the least. Something out of a magazine. Twinkling blue eyes, straight white teeth with a mohawk, and a devastating roguish smile. 

“Name’s Johnny, hen. Ghost didnae tell me ye were such a bonnie lass,” and he raked his eyes from your toes, up, taking in your evening outfit. “I can see why he kept ye all to himself.” Your chest hurt at that. 

“Cute, Johnny. Adorable. Let’s get going, the less time I’m there, the better.” He moves to hang your purse over his shoulder, tucks your hand into the crook of his elbow, and shoots you a grin. 

“As my bonnie wishes.” You ignore how warm your cheeks feel with the way he looks at you. It’s just his job, after all.

—

You stumbled as your heel got caught on the rug in your bedroom, giggling into Johnny’s mouth as you fell back on the bed. The alcohol in your system had you feeling fuzzy, and your core throbbed just by feeling Johnny’s tongue entangle with yours. You truly hadn’t planned to sleep with him, but since he’s already here, and you’re feeling a bit melancholic, you might as well enjoy his company. You’ve paid for it, after all.

“A-ah,  Johnny, you’re gonna—” you pause to moan when he moves his lips down your neck and sucks on the delicate skin below your ear. 

“I’m gonna what, hen? Ye dinnae wanna see me on ye come mornin’?” he sucked a little harder and trailed nips down the column of your throat, sucking another bite by your collarbone. “Lift that dress up, hen, I wanna see those colorful knickers ye’ve been teasing me with all night.” 

You grasp the hem of your dress and raise it until your clothed core is exposed. He gazes down at you, his eyes taking in the obnoxious pink, sheer fabric. “Lookit tha’. I can see your wet slit, dripping just f’me, eh?” he lowers himself onto his knees, crystal blue eyes glued to your pussy. You dig your heels into your bed and raise your hips, intent on taking them off when Johnny stops you. “Leave it on. I’m gonna eat this pretty pussy over these cute little knickers,” licking a broad stripe from the bottom to the top of your slit. 

“God,” you whimpered as he flicks the tip of his tongue against your clit, then gives your bud one firm kiss, and another, before pulling away. 

“Not god, sweets, it’s Johnny.” He moves the gusset to the side, just enough to push in one thick finger, and then two, curling and pushing— intent on finding your sweet spot, all while continuously tonguing your clit. 

You sit up to grab the back of his head, grinding your hips against his mouth, and open your eyes. His heavy-lidded gaze is penetrating— blue eyes glowing in contrast to the dark colour of his eyelashes.

His fingers push into your front wall, stroking you so perfectly, and he flattens his tongue. You let out short, ragged gasps at the coil threatening to snap inside of you. Just a little more, s’all you need. 

“Johnny…” you keen, and it’s like he senses that you need a push because he encircles your clit with his lips over your knickers and sucks. 

Screaming your climax, your body curls in on itself, almost crushing Johnny’s head with your thighs from the force of your orgasm. Johnny feels your clit throbbing, pulsing, and he is so good because he doesn’t stop sucking on it, prolonging your intense pleasure. 

Releasing him from your leg prison, you fall back limp, your vision hazy as if you’re looking at a dream sequence in a movie. 

“Ye ok, bonnie?” and the uh-huh that slips out of your mouth must sound as stupid as it did to you because he lets out a low chuckle. 

“Well, because ye told me it was supposed to only be a date, I didnae bring any condoms.”  Sluggishly, you point at your nightstand.

“I’ve got some.” You close your eyes for a second, taking in steady, calming breaths, trying to gather your wits when he breaks the silence of the room. 

“Ach, these are latex. I’m allergic to latex, sweets.” Opening your eyes, you stare at the ceiling to weigh out your choices. You can’t let him leave until he fucks you into the mattress so hard you become one with it. Damn the alcohol for making you so horny, your inhibitions are lowered. Or maybe Johnny did this to you.

“I figure you’re clean?” 

“‘Course, hen. It’d be really bad f’business to not be.” 

With a conceding sigh, you nod, taking off your heels. "Right. Then get over here and fuck me.”

You hear him take off his clothes, “Lie back, hands on the headboard, if ye would.” 

Grabbing on, he crawls to you and swipes the head of his cock on your sopping cunt, pulling a hiss from behind your teeth. “Lookit tha’. Greedy cunt is ready f’me.” And to prove just how greedy you are, you spread your legs wider, silently begging for him to take you. And he does. Inch by devastating inch, his thick cock stretches you, to the point of stinging pain, and it must’ve reflected on your face because he leans forward to kiss you, and whispers against your lips, “ooh, big stretch, bonnie. Take a breath f’me,” slowly pushing forward until he’s completely sheathed within you.

He waits a bit, kissing you as you get used to him. “Y’ready f’me? I’m gonna fuck ye so good, yer gonna think of me when ye touch yerself.” When you don’t say anything, he raises himself up with one arm, using the other hand to give you a light tap on your cheek. “Y’hear me?” This time you jerkily nod. “Good.” He rises to his haunches and presses your thighs to your chest, your feet flat against his strong chest. He pushes back in, this time grinding his hips into you, before starting an unrelenting, punishing rhythm. The wails you let out were that of a dying animal, but you couldn’t care less. Johnny was hitting the right spot over and over, bringing tears to your eyes. “F-fuck, oh, I—ah,” and then he canted his hips to catch your clit with every thrust. 

You felt the fire of an oncoming orgasm in your belly, and you moved your hands from the headboard to claw at his sides, nails digging into his obliques. Your toes curled into his chest, fingers scratching welts downward as your peak slammed into you with the strength of a battering ram. 

“Oh my godddd, please! Oh fuck please please don’t stop!” and you heard the cruel laugh Johnny let out in response to your begging. 

“As if anyone could stop me,” your walls flutter around his cock, and he growls, “Go on then, bonnie,” and starts pounding into you at a bruising pace, “Give me my reward.”

You scream, again, as you come, almost crying at the incredible bliss of it slamming into your body. If you weren’t having such an out-of-body experience, you'd’ve heard Johnny grunt through clenched teeth at how jealous Ghost is gonna be.

Going completely limp, you drop your head back and look at Johnny, who’s intently watching you.

“Ye good, sweets?” and you give the barest nod. “A’right. I’m gonna finish, okay?” and he starts thrusting again, and that you’re so sensitive, it borders pain. You grab his shoulders to pull him into an embrace and start sucking on his neck. “Oh, f-fuck, bite me.” 

His cock inside you swells, impossibly hard, and you use a good amount of strength to bite the meat on his neck and shoulder— bringing him to his peak. He groans loudly into your ear as he thrusts, releasing thick gooey white, coating your walls and womb. 

Pulling his softening length out of you, he lies down next to you as he catches his breath. After a couple of minutes, he brings himself up on his elbow and grabs your face, giving you a toe-curling kiss you moan into. 

“Same time, next month?” and you nod against his lips. Maybe it was time to move on from Ghost, for your own sake.

—--

The next day, Johnny and Simon are at the gym working out, when Johnny lifts his shirt to wipe his sweaty face and Simon notices the scratches on his sides.

“What’d ya fight that has your sides lookin’ like tha’, Johnny?” he says chuckling. 

“Nae. Yer kitten’s got claws on her. Not tha’ I mind but she jus’ about tore me open.” 

Simon’s smile is wiped from his face at what Johnny just said. “What kitten?”

“Yer girl, who else?” 

He slowly turns to face Johnny, brows furrowed and eyes hard, like stone. “Ya fuck ‘er?” 

Johnny looks at him. “Surprise, surprise. An escort fucking his client. Quick, make it a headline.” Then shrugs. “Jus’ business, Simon,” he pauses, “Although, I understand why she’s got you so pussy whipped.” 

Simon grins at him, and asks, “Was she good?” and Johnny grins back. “Fuckin’ delicious. Now let’s finish this, I’m tryna eat.”

—

Simon grips his steering wheel until his knuckles turn white as he stares at his phone.

You fuck Johnny?

It IS his job, isn’t it?

Your text was a blow, right below the belt. He doesn’t know why you sleeping with someone else stings— at least it was Johnny, but this puts things into perspective. He can’t let you go.

It’s time to give this up. And he texts Johnny exactly that. 

And if she doesn’t want a whore?

Simon lets out a deep, shuddering sigh. 

Then she says no. 

But what Johnny doesn’t know is that he isn’t taking no for an answer. You’re his, now. And no one is going to take you from him.

A/N: I wrote a lot for the smut but ended up leaving it out for our boi, Simon. He's out for blood. Turning it into Ghoap too because i'm not free of those shackles just yet.

[partycatty]

johnny, kenshi, kung lao, raiden, liu kang > lollipop

thank you for 450 followers! take a chunkier post as my thank you 🫶

suckin on a lollipop n wondering how they'd react >:3

warnings: they all need to be neutered

notes: it's orange flavored btw

[ masterlist ]

liu kang

• oh he tries, he tries so hard to not let it get to him

• but when your pretty lips part to speak and he catches a glimpse of the color staining your tongue? excuse him while he mad dashes to his quarters to smack one out silly style.

• no, not really. liu kang just avoids eye contact, tries to focus on training. perhaps he'd step away for just a moment to remember how to breathe.

• asks you to not eat during training, as it could be a choking hazard. he really just says that so you'd stop before he gets too hot under the collar.

• makes you hand it to him to discard, but when he sees the string of saliva as you remove it from your mouth you find it hard to miss the twitch in his eye.

• when you notice how much it gets to him, you make an extra effort to look up at him through your lashes when your plush lips pull the lollipop out with a pop. it's almost like a little game, how much you can do it before liu kang snaps.

johnny cage

• johnny couldn't ignore what you were doing, he would probably be under the delusion that you're sucking on it like that on purpose.

• takes several double takes throughout the day, having very little shame in being caught. he'd just grin at you and shrug after a light scolding.

• even when you put your lollipop onto your plate to eat or on the rare occasion you don't have one in, johnny's reeling over the tint to your lips. it looks like a pretty coat of lipstick, and johnny's hand squeezes so tightly on his chopsticks as his mind wanders, the boys wonder if it just might snap in two.

• it takes him some time, he doesn't want to come off as too weird after all, but at some point he draws the line when you flatten your tongue and swipe the lollipop down the entire length. johnny snatches it from your hand and puts it in his own mouth.

• could he recall the flavor, or is he too focused on your spit mixing with his? both! gross.

• winks at you as the stick dangles from his lips, trying not to lose his own mind over the taste.

• "i like this flavor," he cockily observes, pulling it out to inspect it. "tastes like you, sugar."

•...gross. did you even want to share? no. are you complaining? mm, not really.

kenshi takahashi

• kenshi cuts the habit short as soon as he notices. training is his priority. kicks, punches, slashes, the way the lollipop coats with your — NO.

• he coldly hisses orders at you to "spit that thing out." doesn't say why, doesn't say much other than that. what else could he say, "don't do that before i pop a hard-on?" are you crazy?

• speaking of kenshi, he's literally losing his mind over it but puts every ounce of anger he has accumulated since meeting johnny into hiding his expressions.

• "are you always this childish?" crossing his arms and rolling his eyes when you unwrap yet another one from your pocket... how many are in there?

• hell, he might even try to tell on you. might make a stabbing comment every now and then when you're all together to train. choking hazard this, immature that.

• he wants to do what johnny does and just get a taste, but he's not as graceful. yanking it from your lips after catching it on your teeth, kenshi throws it on the ground and stomps on it, shattering the sugary goodness all over the cobblestone floor. sad face :(

• you want to be mad, to rip him a new one for not knowing how to mind his own business, but you A) have more in your room, and B) notice his blatantly obvious red hue to his face, and you know it's not anger.

kung lao

• all the charm, none of the grace. help this man, the image of your mouth haunts him at the unholiest of hours.

• lao would, at times, flick the stick dangling from your lips just to make it crack against your teeth and make you whine in surprise. he'd shrug and walk off, like it was somehow your fault for having a lollipop in the first place.

• he's not oblivious to your subtle advances when your tongue swirls around the flavored orb, and he's no better.

• "you really are shameless, aren't you?" kung lao crosses his arms with a huff, trying to roll his eyes but looking away feels like an incomprehensible task.

• pesters you endlessly, asks about the flavor and brand and if they're just like the ones at home! but he's just doing it so he can admire the glossy tint to your tongue and lips from the artificial dyes.

• stares so hard, raiden has to heel him in the foot so he'd pay attention to liu kang's lectures and announcements. it's like he's the only one that can hear the amplified swirling in your mouth, and he probably is (that is, because he is straining himself to hear).

• lao would ask if you had any extra in your pocket (of course you do!) and pop one into his mouth himself, giving you a taste of what he's been losing his mind over as his pursed lips suck and play with the lollipop. you thought you could get away with toying with him, didn't you? now it's an even playing field!

raiden

• come on, champion, keep it together! everyone notices the static raising their hairs when they walk by. that, and he's white-knuckling the fabric of his robes so hard they might just tear. thank god for his hat, as it conceals both the sun and his creeping blush.

• the sassy man apocalypse infects even raiden. sure, he's not a timid guy in the slightest, but something about how you toy with the candy makes him feel weak in the knees.

• "do you really need to have one at all times?" he'd ask rhetorically as he tucks his hands under his armpits. "those are pretty unhealthy for you." you become a victim of his polite scrutinizing, insisting that that much candy is bound to have a negative effect on you. anything to get you to put that thing away so he doesn't shock the next person he touches.

• raiden is trained, he is disciplined, he knows better than to stare. but the moment you're in his peripherals, he's side-eyeing you so hard you wonder if he's trying to send a telepathic message.

• whining his name as you pathetically jump up to reach his extended arm, clawing at the fabric after he tore away your lollipop the moment you pulled it from your lips. your subtle pouting brings a smug smile to his face as he watches you fruitlessly attempt to climb up his body.

• "four before noon is more than enough," he tuts, looking up at the lollipop before getting a downright evil idea. he's well-mannered and well-spoken, but if the opportunity to toy with you arises, of course he's taking it. boldness is one of his wildcard traits!

• he pulls the lollipop down into his mouth, sucking it in before you have a chance to protest. staring in awe as raiden moves the lollipop around in his mouth, an eyebrow quirked as he stares down at you.

• "hm," he hums, grinning down at you with the stick between his teeth. "this is actually quite nice." and of course, you're too flustered to argue further, instead retreating to your room to get a new one - and calm down from that sight.

[shrewsburysworld]

YANDERE POPULAR BOY JUNGKOOK | PART 3

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4

Warning:- Accusations of infidelity, murder, delusion behaviour.

*This is a fan fiction. completely fictional. The behaviour of characters in this fiction is not something to emulate. You are responsible for your own consumption. Thank you.*

Yandere Jungkook spoiled you rotten with his luxury, be it the latest market pieces of jewellery or designer clothes.

Yet it never fascinated you, your world became a gilded prison. he showered you with every comfort, yet it was a life devoid of freedom.

Jungkook believed his love was pure and his obsession was justified. To him you were everything, he didn't force you to sleep with him. and you were thankful for that. Maybe he actually loved you, but he was a mentally ill person.

You felt sorry but being trapped in your golden cage began to suffocate you under the weight of his so-called love.

So you took your chance and tried to play with his mind and sanity. you accused him of things he couldn't understand - infidelity, deceit - things that baffled him because his devotion to you was absolute.

One evening, in the grand but empty mansion you shared, you confronted Jungkook. "You're seeing someone else, aren't you?" you whispered, tears brimming in your eyes.

You couldn't afford to take someone else's name because what if he hurt them, you know he is capable of doing that. Jungkook stared at you confused and hurt. "No!! There's no one but you. How could you think that?"

But you wouldn't listen. You wanted out, wanted to escape the suffocating grip of a love that was slowly killing you. In your desperation, you filed for a divorce, hoping to use the accusation of infidelity as your escape route.

The thought of losing you Jungkook to madness. He didn’t understand your accusations, but if there was someone you believed he was cheating with, that person had to be eliminated. His love for you was so consuming that it twisted his logic, turning his actions into something dark and dangerous.

Jungkook began to watch those around him, scrutinizing every woman he interacted with, searching for a hint of the betrayal you believed existed. Then, one day, a colleague’s innocent touch on his arm during a business meeting ignited a spark of rage within him. She was the one you feared. She was the one who would take you away from him.

Driven by his delusion, Jungkook arranged a meeting with the colleague, luring her under the guise of business. It was there, in a secluded penthouse suite, that he ended her life with cold precision. He felt no remorse—only a sense of duty fulfilled, believing he had removed the threat to his marriage.

When you heard the news, you were horrified. Jungkook confessed to you, not out of guilt, but out of love. “I did it for us, Baby!!. She was the reason you wanted to leave. Now we can be together, without anyone coming between us.”

Your blood ran cold. You realized that your accusations, born out of a desperate need to escape, had pushed Jungkook over the edge. His love was not just obsessive; it was deadly. You was trapped, more than ever, in a nightmare from which there was no escape.

Jungkook, oblivious to the terror in your eyes, pulled you close, whispering sweetly, “Now, my love, you’ll never leave me.”

As the walls of the mansion seemed to close in on her, your dreams of freedom shattered like glass. You were his, forever bound by a love that was as painful as it was powerful.

*This is original work. Do not copyright*

Hey Army!! Thank you so much for loving Yandere Jungkook series. If you guys have any further ideas or imaginations for the continuation of this series drop a message/request. 🫶🫶

[cr4yolaas]

not strong enough — miya osamu

notes: based off of “not strong enough” by boygenius <3

tags: reverse comfort, cheating implications (no actual cheating), self-deprecation + jealousy (osamu), super heartfelt tho

osamu hadn’t been home lately.

the kitchen was devoid of heart and soul. gone was the warmth that seeped into the apartment at his presence, or the comfort that his voice provided as it wafted through the halls. you didn’t see nor feel him anymore, save for the few glimpses of him getting ready before the sun could even greet your windowsill.

miya osamu was disappearing from your life, and you could do nothing but prepare for it.

you instantly feared the worst — that he was planning to leave you, or that he was seeking solace in another, or anything else that involved him separating himself from the life he built in your shared home. and so, delusion after delusion fed into one another, thus leading to an overwhelming bubble of anxiety that infected every inch of your bones.

when you had finally seen him — not just witnessed his shadow in the darkness of a lonesome bedroom — he appeared as if he had just barely dragged himself home. his skin hung heavy under his eyes, his hair was oily and tousled, his hands seemingly obtained an impossible amount of callouses and burns and scratches. you did not say a word, fearful for his response. instead, you held him in your arms in the doorway as he collapsed to the floor, the buckle of his knees bringing you down with him.

you could hear the remnants of an apology muttered into your shirt (his shirt, truthfully).

“what was that, ‘samu?” you whispered, your voice barely reaching his ears.

he turned his head to look to the side with his cheek still firm on your shoulder. “don’t ya ever wish things were different?”

his voice was hoarse; it was littered with exhaustion and pain and misery that you could not begin to understand. his question nestled itself deep into your lungs. you weren’t entirely sure what he was asking.

“a life where you’re living comfortably … and you’re free to do whatever your want …” he began to trail off, his features lined with sleepiness. “didn’t ya ever want that?”

you began to rub circles around his back, which was damp from the sweat that accumulated beneath his work uniform. you were waiting patiently for him to say it — to tell you to go pursue greater things to conceal his desire to rid himself of you, or that he didn’t deserve you because he had committed an act of betrayal. but instead, he continued, “‘tsumu’s doing great things … ‘n he’s rich ‘n happy ‘n famous and so much more. but what about me? what have i done?”

his words dissipated gradually. the cracks in his voice exposed him quite easily, not to mention the teardrops staining your skin. “you’ve done more than enough for me, ‘samu. i’m sorry i didn’t make you feel that way.” your boyfriend only gripped onto your harder, as if he were scared you would melt away if he didn’t.

“i jus’ wanna make you happy. i’m not sure if my job can even do that,” he muttered. “i’m trying to work harder at the shop, but i’m scared it isn’t enough.”

if it were situationally acceptable, you would have heaved a heavy sigh of relief. but it was not — so instead, you began to hold him impossibly tighter. “you don’t need to work so hard for me to love n’ appreciate you. everything about you is enough to make me happy,” you spoke softly to him. “as long as you’re by my side, i’m happy.”

miya osamu, despite his intricacies, was a delicate man at heart. that night, as you held him at the front door, the porcelain shell concealing his truest soul had shattered.

[channelinglament]

I LOVED your SAHSR thoughts so please hear me out.

I actually doubt that HSR will understand what God means, like, they're in space and modern tech and with all the things they have encountered, I just feel that they have never understood "God" like in SAGAU. The only being that closer to a "divine being" being is aeon.

So my brainrot is, the player as aeon, who's just mindlessly flying across the Herta's Space Station that currently being invaded and taken interested in MC (who's literally stellaron) and favored them.

HSR characters are aware, that something powerful is actively watching and taking care of them. They are wary because aeons are areas they know very little about and have no control over.

But, who could resist the constant warmth and kindness of this peculiar aeon, plus, this aeon seems having no bad intention. Just some harmless mischief (scaring a cleaning service; those trash bing thingy; destroying property for some cash; etc)

Sorry if there any grammar mistakes. English is not my first language.

THIS ^

THIS IS AMAZING

TW:some religious themes, yandere

I agree, they indeed would think you're an aeon.

Some sort of highest of aeons.

AND THE MISCHIEF PART IS SO TRUE

They wouldn't understand why are you so different from all the aeons, but you don't cause trouble, and seem to actually care for them, make then stronger.. You really aren't that bad. And just like that, after their observation on you, their obsession began!

Considering what destruction everything else causes, you're the safest one, so some of them might even worship you. Admire you while being obssesses with divine aeon. Y-You even saved Belobog! And Herta's station.. They really should thank you, but how? Maybe offerings will do...?

Oh, some would be obsessive about you! Everything you do is absolute perfection! How could they not love you? Would keep a journal and take pictures/draw/paint you.

Some would be protective, you always look after them and their backs, so they are doing the same for you. "Just like in some romance book!" They say.

Others would be possessive (obv). They don't wanna share you with anyone. You're too special. They're the only ones who deserve you/ They may not deserve you but no one else is, so they'll try to isolate you. They want to keep you to themselves, you're to good for everyone and anyone else anyways.

Some are Manipulative and Cunning. This being paired with what I stated above is not a great idea. Thankfully, not everyone is like that.

Others are Clingy and Delusional. Would not recommend, as, if their delusion would shatter...the result would be..messy. you'll be alright tho. But everyone else won't.

Some would definitely share with each other and work together. Use their strong traits and cover the weak ones of others (and vice versa).

Running away? Kinda impossible, you're in space..

BUT

Hear me out, if in sagau we are sometimes ACTUALLY a God with gold blood

What if we are actually an aeon?

(We can talk and speculate about it more, I'm really interested about you're thoughts hehe. Everyone is so cool ><. Imagine being in both, SAHSR and SAGAU universe, both sides loving you, worshiping you and pursuing you. Oh it won't end well, and if it will, it won't be for you-)

[colourstreakgryffin]

Hello, sorry from before. I am the illusionist person.

I guess Alastor, Velvett, and Emily (but only if you do her).

I apologize about before.

No problem! I just do not like the idea of taking away credit from others’ choices and picking out the characters for others’ subjects. It just doesn’t feel right. I am sorry for being so… well, I guess, annoying and picky! To be honest, not a lot can be done here so sorry, it’s going to be kinda short! Also, this is my first time handling Emily!

Alastor

Alastor almost thought you were an ordinary sinner. A lady not unbelievably special but special in your own ways. But he is mistaken when he begins seeing your illusions and asks you about it. He is so surprised, jaw-dropped, amazed… that’s incredible!

Alastor is actually really supportive towards your illusion power and eggs you on to use it more than you normally do. Use it to get what you want, use it to mislead, use it to defend yourself. He will be right there to cheer you on

Alastor finds it fascinating when you begin to use your illusions on him. Changing his clothing to 1800s, making his ears disappear, all for shits and giggles but it’s just eye tricks. Everything is still there and hasn’t done anything to you, it’s just so realistic, that it’s incredible. He is impressed and has to remind himself that everything you suddenly ‘make’ is not real at all

It can be considered minor but to your boyfriend, your illusionary power. The most powerful, hyper realistic delusions that even shatter like glass when being hit. Enables Alastor’s pride and he is happily brags about how powerful you can be. He mentioned you a ton during his broadcasts and now, he mentions you as a whole even more. He’s just so proud of you

“My dear. Your mind is quite wild and livid. I can’t help but wonder what else you can do. May I ask, how does this power work? It’s so unique and I’d love to get to know it even more, may we speak over a nice date on my room’s balcony over some tea and cookies?”

Velvette

Velvette actually would much more prefer if her harmless little sinner girlfriend was just a normal demon. Didn’t have any powers that made her override the Overlord of the pair… but boy, she is so wrong and she ends up being jumpscared by your illusion-inducing power, directly falling for it and afterwards, she can’t help but directly fall for you even more

Whilst it’s true that Velvette enjoys being the unique one of this couple, she finds herself not at all salty or jealous of your power. In-fact, she wants to see it more in action and she even asks if she can post videos or pictures of your abilities to show you off, as a way to also demonstrate to the web that you belong to her, and this power belongs to her as well

Velvette is uncontrollably disturbed and annoyed by just how hyper realistic and convincing your mind images are. They are fully seeable to everybody, it’s not just you two but she feels like it’s tricking her individually. Whilst she gets irritated with them sometimes, she has grown to support you as a whole. She does like, however, when you use your mind and dress her in 1800s era clothing. Yeah, the dresses are ugly and old but the effort behind them is adorable so she allows it

As stated before, Velvette takes pictures, videos and stills of your illusionary magic and posts them online. She doesn’t just use this as claiming you as hers, she also uses it to brag about you. You went from just beautiful to beautiful and powerful, and that’s all hers. She has your heart and she wants everybody to know you can render them useless with your illusions. She brags to even the Vees

“Yo. Bae, can you please do me a fav with your luse-power? I want to make a really good fashion runway picture for my social media accounts and this one is shit. Could you please make some accessorises for me… pleeeaase~? I promise I’ll buy ya a present~!”

Emily

Emily is a Seraphim. A powerful, higher-up ranked Angel species of the Heaven Hierarchy, so it’s quite surprising when she is as surprised to seeing the precious ordinary Angel lovely woman she calls hers form a illusion creation of her friend, Charlie Morningstar, trying to cheer her up after a bad day. She is so amazed and so proud, eyes sparkling with awe

Emily is the most supportive and encouraging being ever and she wants to rise you up, even more up above Heaven’s majestic cool clouds. She wants you to feel invincible and she wants to you feel proud of yourself so she’ll, much like a child, ask you to use more of your illusions, explore your power and get more confident with it and everytime she watches it, her mind basically explodes

Emily happily and excitedly spins out when you use your illusionary power on her to change her looks; gorgeous hair, gorgeous dress and even her wings. She feels so different yet so blessed at the same time, even if the new look is just a magical sheet covering her body. She also finds it interesting and funny that you dressed her in human 1800s era style, she wants you two to match so she basically begs you to use your magic on you too

Emily legit goes out of her way and with help from Sera, finds and brings back needed magical training items and spell books to try help you hone your already hyper-convincing Mirakinesis and your skills with that power, so you can expand your percentage and even maybe make it even more powerful, with her right besides you as your biggest cheerleader

“Sunflower! Can you make yourself invisible yet? Did the books and items help you at all? I hope they did! I also hope that you know that I am so proud of you and I love you so much! Please never keep something like this from me ever again! You’re incredible, with and without it”

[dazed--xx]

🎮Arcade🎮

Summary: I've spent all of the love I saved. We were always a losing game, Small town Girl(boy) in a big arcade, I got addicted to a losing game. Oh,Oh.All I know, all I know……Loving you is a losing game

Member: Felix x Reader

T/W: Break Ups, arguments crying, heartbreak, ANGST…, swearing, yelling, sad ending, Bet Au!, depressing thoughts, lack of communication, childish behavior, Avoiding S/O, mentions of sex, bullying, denial

Word Count: 2.1K

A broken heart is all that's left. I'm still fixing all the cracks. Lost a couple of pieces when I carried it, carried it, carried it home….I'm afraid of all I am; My mind feels like a foreign land. Silence ringing inside my head; Please, carry me, carry me, carry me home

The smell of coffee filled the air as you sat quietly in the cafe, waiting for your boyfriend with his friends. You listened as they teased each other back and forth as you pulled out your phone sending a quick text to Felix.

Hey, when are you getting here?

You place your phone on the table as a redheaded girl, whom you believe was your boyfriend’s friend Changbin’s girlfriend. Your eyes widen as she begins to take selfies on your phone as she speaks “You're so quiet, Do you talk at all?” She asks as you reach for your phone. “Y-yeah…can I have my phone back?” you ask nervously, the girl ignores you as you look at her in disbelief. “So…” She trails giving the brunette girl beside her a mischievous smirk “You and Felix have been dating for a while right?”

You nod, “Yeah? Almost a year.” your voice is shy and hesitant. Why is she asking? You thought to yourself. “Is he, you know…..as good as the rumors say?” the brunette girl asks with a glint in her eye you couldn't place. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion “What do you mean??” you ask innocently. The redhead snorts as she looks away from you covering her mouth as the brunette smacks her friend's arm playfully. “Is he like, good in bed?” The brunette asks suggestively, being sure to keep her voice lowered. You shake your head panickedly. “We-Weve never—I never—Im a…” you stammer nervously.

The two girls look at each other and begin to laugh hysterically; clutching each other's hands they continue to laugh and laugh. An overwhelming sense of embarrassment fills your gut. Why are they laughing? Was it embarrassing to still be a virgin at your age? “Felix is so losing this, I don't know why he was so confident” The redhead snickers to her friend. Losing? “Losing what?” you ask innocently. The girls' laughing stops, their eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. “What do you mean?” She asks with a confused pout. You look at her bewildered. “What do you mean? What is Felix going to lose?”

“The bet of course?” The redhead states matter-of-factly. You laugh awkwardly as you scratch the nape of your neck. “What are you talking about? What bet?” your voice is just above a whisper as the brunette girl sighs “Felix made a bet with the guys that he could get you to go out with him and give him your virginity within a year” There was a hint of amusement in her tons as she spoke. You felt your heart shatter in your chest as you felt tears build in your eyes.

“T-That's not funny…”

“Who said I was joking?” The brunette responds harshly “Be in denial about it all you want but, once your delusion clears up you'll actually notice all the signs. Why else would Felix talk to someone like you? Let alone date them?” She crosses her arms over her chest “Don't feel bad about it, just make him lose the bet at one year then he'll dump you and you'll never have to talk to him again….and you can say you dated someone WAY out of your league so,” the redhead chimes coldly. You sat frozen in your seat for a moment as the redhead handed you back your phone. The two girls give you mischievous smirks as you lift yourself from your seat. You feel your phone buzz with a message from Felix.

So clingy😒…Ill be there soon

Your heart sinks into your stomach; not wanting to see him any longer you walk out of the cafe with your phone in one hand and bag in the other. Your mind raced as you rushed out of the door. Everything you thought you had known about your relationship was a lie.

I've spent all of the love I've saved, We were always a losing game. Small-town girl (boy) in a big arcade I got addicted to a losing game……

It had been three weeks since that painful day in the cafe. Your heart had yet to recover. Felix had reached out a few times, completely and utterly confused by your grand disappearing act. The night you had learned the truth about your relationship with Felix. Puzzle pieces began to come together. You had never understood why Felix had treated you so differently than he did with his friends. While you were falling in love with Felix, he was counting down the days until his little game was over. You felt disgusting and nauseous knowing that not only were you used as a pawn in some sexist game but you weren't even seen as a person with feelings when it came to those who made the bet. The longer Felix pretended to love you the more anger boiled in your gut.

You had fled back home to Gimhae; deciding to take a few weeks to yourself to figure things out. As the time ticked on you felt more and more irritated as you found yourself doing exactly what the two girls who so rudely exposed the truth wanted. Your leg shook in frustration as you felt yourself growing more and more angry.

Angry at those two girls….

Angry at Felix…..

Angry at yourself….

How could you not be? It was obvious like the girls said. Every time you held his hand, he'd allow his to sit loosely in yours. His kisses were always hesitant and seemed forced. His smile never fully reached his eyes when you were alone.

How could you have been so stupid?

Felix stared at his phone with furrowed eyebrows as his friends Jisung and Minho played video games. His leg was shaking as he hoped to see the messages he'd sent you go from delivered to seen. He was so confused when he walked into the cafe 3 weeks ago and you were nowhere to be seen. He'd asked Changbin’s and Hyunjin’s girlfriends of your whereabouts but they shrugged him off explaining you said something came up and then left. He hasn't heard from you since. He knew you were still physically okay from your posts on social media but, he hadn't heard your voice or seen you for weeks.

Felix felt drained, wishing you'd breathe life into him as you once did. He didn't know what caused you to suddenly go AWOL but for some reason, he felt anxious. Why weren't you responding to him? Felix nibbled on his bottom lip in frustration as he lifted himself from the couch, walking into his bedroom he pressed the call button on the top right of the chat. His heart races as he hears the call trying to connect.

One ring… Felix paces around his room nervously as two, three, and four rings go by. He groans as he ends the call losing hope of you answering.

Why weren't you talking to him?

Do you love me, or love me not? Peeling pieces from my heart And my rose-colored lens is gone Still I carry, I carry, I carry on

When you chose to return home you found yourself feeling lighter. While you've chosen to accept the truth, you also chose not to contact Felix right away. You had spent a little over a month in Gimhae, missing major lessons in your chosen field of study. Opting to prioritize catching up academically; once you arrived back in Seoul you quickly dropped off your bags and made your way to SNU for your 10 am lecture. What you hadn't anticipated was Felix showing up to his lecture for the first time in a while.

You quickly tried to avoid his gaze as you passed him on the quad. Your heart raced as you power-walked toward your building entrance. You were no more than two long strides from freedom when you felt a hand wrap around your wrist. “Y/N…” that familiar deep voice called “Where have you been?” Felix asked confusion lacing his tone. You pull your arm from his grip “I went to see my parents” you state offhandedly looking away from him. “You randomly disappeared for a month, because you wanted to see your parents? Without saying anything to me about it or contacting me during that whole time?” He grits trying to contain his anger.

“Yeah, so?”

Felix scoffs “So?! You're fucking kidding me right?” his eyebrows are scrunched together as he contorts his face into a scowl. His arms cross over his chest; you give him a bored expression. “No? I don't really see the problem” you run your fingers through your hair as you shift on your feet. “Don't act like an oblivious idiot, Y/N. Why wouldn't disappearing on your boyfriend for a month be a problem?” Felix growls and you scoff in return “Don't act like you're really my boyfriend, Lee Yongbok” Your tone is full of venom.

Felix gives you a look of confusion and bewilderment. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?!” He exclaims as he clenches his fists at his sides. You shake your head “Nothing. Forget it.” you grit turning to walk toward the door. Felix holds you in place by your wrist as he steps in front of you. “No, you seem like you have a lot to say all of a sudden. Like you're not wrong for at least answering one of my calls!”

“Stop pretending to give a shit! I know! I know about your disgusting bet! I know about how you need to sleep with me before a year is up! I know that this is a game for you! So just stop!” you snap.

I don't need your games, game over; Get me off this roller-coaster…..Ooh, ooh…..All I know, all I know…..

Felix felt all the blood drain from his face. His heart stopped as your words rang through his ears. No…No…That can't be true….please, don't let this be true.. Felix thought. His blood ran cold and it felt like someone poured a bucket of cold water over his head. “Y-Y/N, L-Let me explain….” He states, his voice almost inaudible he takes a step toward you. His heart cracks when you take a step back and look away from him. “N-No….Please, you weren't supposed to ever know about this. Please let me explain” He pleads.

You shake your head “Honestly, I don't care about an explanation from you. Nothing you say would matter to me at this point.”

Felix feels his resolve crumble at those words “Y-You don't mean that…” He states in disbelief “Y-you love me…you can't possibly mean that.” you scoff at his words “You really think I'm stupid enough to still love you after finding out the disgusting reason you asked me out in the first place?” Tears fill Felix's eyes as he stares at you with a pleasing expression. “It's not like that….please I-I know you still love me. I can make this right, I-I can fix this….” he caresses your cheek as he stares into your eyes. You look at him in disbelief “You can't ‘fix’ this. It's broken and done with.”

A devastating cry is released from Felix’s throat “Y/N….i-it can't be, please. I-I just need one chance, I love you I'm sorry; I shouldn't—I shouldn't have made the bet…but, it's how we got together s-so, please I-if you can overlook this one mistake…” he looks at you with hopeful eyes and you return his gaze with a glare. Some nerve…you think to yourself. “What? You want to keep playing this fucking game with me? I don't want to ‘overlook this one mistake’ because it's not a fucking mistake. You manipulative, gaslighting fuck. You have your head shoved so far up your own ass you don't hear how stupid you sound. I'm breaking up with you. The game’s over, I won't continue to lose because I love you. I'm done being your fucking puppet.” you growl before you walk around him, bumping into him with your shoulder as you pass him. Opening the door you enter the building heading to your lecture.

Felix stood there, tears streaming down his cheeks as you walked away. His chest clenched tightly as he cried to himself wishing to turn back time and never make that stupid ass bet.

Loving you is a losing game

⏪|⏸️|🔄

Taglist: @yangbbokari @havenwithleeknow

[gotham-daydreams]

Hi hi! Anon that can easily stay stuck in their imagination here-

I'm so glad you answered my ask!! And yeah in a situation like not [] where they will try very hard to not physically hurt the reader a case where they will is more difficult. Honestly it depends on the person's will.

Most people can't take torture nor can that take having their independence taken away.

And while the reader in not [] is very much more angry than numb to them at the end of part 3, I feel it takes a lot to be broken.

Personally spite would keep me from giving in. I don't have a lot to ask for but basic decency and admittance of guilt but the batfam is too prideful and selfish to ever do such a thing.

And I live with pain all the time so being in more pain isn't ideal but it's not something I couldn't handle. In the case were my limbs are taken they only thing they can't take from me is my mind

I mean they could always try other methods, drugs and surgeries (lobotomy is such a horrifying concept fr) and such but honestly doing that would be completely destroying what once was.

The batfam is mostly selfish to the point where they are obsessed with the IDEA of reader not who they actually are. A part of me would hope that in destroying who reader was they would feel remorse and do what's right but the other part of me doubts that.

It would take a lot for them to actually feel to do what's right and at that point what's right is taking reader out back for a final send off.

But in such a case where the mind is gone then you really have nothing but a shattered vase. You can try putting it back together but you'll never succeed. A broken vase is much easier to fix than a shattered one after all.

Overall I have enough spite and mostly enough pain tolerance to stick through my decision of staying with my head in the clouds

In all honestly the human body can only last so long when the person in the body has no will to exist. You can feed it and bathe it, take care of that bag of flesh made to carry your bones and organs with all the right ingredients, but the brain knows when the metaphorical heart isn't in it and will only last so long, no amount of reviving can fix that sadly

It's why I wouldn't mind being kidnapped if they would actually take the steps to put their pride and selfish nature away. Yeah staying trapped in the manor sucks but continuing on with the forgive and forget attitude is a surefire way to get one to despise your guts.

I'm so glad you have returned for a bit!! I apologize for rambling in your ask box I am a certified yapper and hopefully all my yapping doesn't sound as scatterbrained as it does in my head-

Stay safe!! Don't forget to hydrate! I hope you have a lovely day or night

YES!!! YOU GET IT!! HAHA!

Also don't even worry about it, I love all of these long submissions and such and they are such a joy to read!!! I hope you have an amazing day/afternoon/night as well, and again, don't even worry! I'm a certified yapper too LMAO

But seriously you so get it and I love you for that anon! The family is so fixated on the idea of the reader moreso than them as an actual person. They, ultimately, care more about feeding their own delusions and ideas of what could be - and they do that through the reader. Misery loves company, after all, and what I was also basically trying to get at with the previous post which is, well-

They'll grasp at straws. They'll tear away at everything, and destroy whatever they 'have to', and anything that gets in the way if it means getting what they want. No matter how broken it is, they'll keep replacing parts- and even if it'll never be the same, even if you will never be the same, as long as you look the same, and physically are the same person... well, they'll keep that. They'll take what they can get, and they'll make sure of that above all else - even if it means essentially losing you in the process.

If anything, I also feel like my other previous posts I've made today support that- LMAO

That they'll absolutely destroy you, only to physically keep you around, and whereas they'll all have their own methods of treating you and keeping you around - as I do doubt that all of them will be so selfish and self centered to not even try to apologize or work things out in a semi civil manner - its still ultimately harmful regardless. Though, that's mainly because of their borderline obsession with progress.

Specifically, for the Not [ ] Series (and I hope this'll show in Chapter 4 as it is sort of why things go down the way they do), why things have ultimately turned this way and why they get so messy so quickly is because of that obsession of progress. Obviously, they want to be with the reader and be the totally happy family that they never were - but they're biggest problem is that they're impatient. They're impatient and the reader... well, they basically aren't giving the family any avenues to make progress-

WHICH IS OKAY!! It's perfectly fine to want space and time just... away from others, especially if they are the ones that hurt you so deeply and greatly affected their life. Especially when, like the reader, the family made them suffer alone and by themself for years. They were essentially isolated and kept away from everyone except for Alfred, and no one encouraged them. No one was there for them at all, and as they express and say in Chapter 3 - they feel like their efforts were in vain. Everything was all for not, and it's okay to want to be away from that, even if the family technically didn't do anything, because it was ultimately their inaction that caused this in the first place.

The reader just needs space because, until a few months ago, they were around and stuck in a place where they felt unneeded, unwanted, and just... alone. They want more of that space so that they can clear their head and finally focus on what they want to do in their life, because now they're actually getting a chance to actually live their life and they love it! So the prospect of going back.. of being in the mansion again? Of going back to that horrible, isolating life? They can't do it. Especially when they can't bring themself to believe that the family's intentions are genuine. Especially when they just don't want to 'risk' things going back to how they were, because god damn it- they just started living their life!! And it's like the family is trying to take that away again.

Nevertheless, the family will still try to do what they can to get what they want, and if Chapter 4 will show anything, is that when given no room... they'll make it. They'll rip and tear, and most importantly, they'll take.

I feel like the end of Chapter 4, and subsequently- the beginning of Chapter 5 (if i write it how i think I will when i get to that point) will definitely spawn all the spite and dread someone will need for a lifetime, believe me! And honestly I have all hopes for people like you being able to withstand the torment that will come from most of the family. Though, I will also say that, or course, that is most of them.

Push comes to shove, hell, at least Alfred will have you with how reasonable he'll seem - with him definitely beinf the most guilty when it comes to making others out to be worse than they are, and acting as your savior. Both literally and figuratively as he will comfort you and, as usual, act as a voice of reason with some much added sass thrown in there.

I also feel like Bruce, despite his own pride, would also sit down and talk it out - and I won't go into much detail here as it will be shown in Chapter 4, but let's just say he'll try. He may not be very successful as he is a man of few words at his core, but I'll say that he won't be one of the people impulsively tearing off any limbs, that's for sure!

Barbara is in a similar boat as she'll try to reason and talk things out, but she isn't one of the family members 'living' with you, so...

Aaand I won't go too indepth with the others as I feel this post in long enough- though just note as well that Selina would try to be another voice of reason (and also manipulation), and so would Duke - who would try to also hold people back from doing anything 'rash' (since, if anyone is going to not only seem reasonable, but also feel genuine, it would be him. hands down. and sure, maybe it'd be Dick... if the whole argument didn't happen LMAO) if they were in the series, which... I'll definitely try to include them going forward as they are apart of the Batfam- I just didn't have a means to include them into the series, and now that it's lowley wrapping up... well, I think it's just best to include them elsewhere!

Nevertheless, thanks for sending this in! I really enjoyed reading it, along with the first one you sent in as well! I love long submissions so much (though any submission/ask makes me happy as hell), and, again, this was really fun!! I always love a good excuse to yap too, as you can tell...

Regardless, again, have an amazing day/afternoon/night, anon!!! You get it fr 💛💛💛

And if I misread or misunderstood anything... feel free to correct me! I read pretty fast and tend to skip over words and such by accident, which is... hilarious considering things, but yeah! I'm sorry if I misunderstood anything, but regardless, again, this has been fun and I love you 💛

[hannahssimblr]

Fridays end, as they always do, as the life drawing class filters out of the room, and I scrub charcoal from my hands with the icy water in the classroom sink. I don’t know how I do it, get smudges on my fingers, my hands, the sleeves of my sweatshirt, but invariably I do. I use an old paintbrush left lying on the ledge to scrub my fingernails, too. They’re always filthy. I think I am inherently messier than everyone else, somehow, despite my best intentions to be something else. 

“Und dein Gesicht.” The tutor, Gunther, says casually as he saunters from the room, shattering the illusion I had of having cleaned myself off. My face, too? How did it get on my face? The silver tap reflects a smudge above my eyebrow. I bring a handful of water to wash it away, and the coldness stings my skin. I shiver as it trails down my neck and under my collar. Cold. I’m always cold these days, even as January has limped into February and, along with the new year snow, my delusions that spring is just waiting to burst through the frozen soil, have melted.

My face, still damp, feels like it might freeze solid as I trudge across campus to the lecture halls. This is part of my Friday routine, too: Visiting the lecture hall. Not because I have an actual lecture. My art history class is on Wednesday. Astrid has it on Friday afternoon, finishing at half four, and I like to be there to meet her. My phone reads 16:40, the screen is bright in the fading light and the mist, grey, cloud hanging low over the brick pavers.

I make myself known with a knock on the door. It’s ajar, the room vacant of all students but Astrid, and she stands by a desk, her white blonde hair covering her face as she murmurs in German still too sophisticated for me to understand. 

It’s Steffen who she is speaking to. Her art history lecturer. A rumpled, mousy-haired man with a leather satchel always slung across his body. He has an incessant need to discuss the minutiae of Astrid’s academic essays with her after class far more often than he does any of his other students. He wants her alone, and it sends a shiver up my spine. His lack of concern about being creepy is alarming. I could go around to everyone on campus and describe him as some lecherous old weirdo hunting women half his age. He would be ostracised, ridiculed for it, but it’s like the thought hasn’t crossed his mind, like he’s lacking some basic element of male shame.

I don’t like it. It freaks me out. I hate the way he holds her hostage after hours like this, and his habit of looking at her like she’s not flesh and blood, but some sort of otherworldly, celestial thing for him to rake his eyes over as he pleases. He enjoys her too much.  

“Hello,” I say with all the obnoxiousness I can muster, and they both look up. Perhaps I am projecting onto Steffen, this notion I’ve bamboozled him, pissed him off by interrupting his time with my girlfriend, while he innocently helps her with her essay on female painters of the 16th century, but I swear he gives me a look, and I give one in return. He’s so weedy. I wonder if he knows that if the rules of university were the same as the primitive, hierarchical rules of secondary school, I would have snapped him in half already. Look at him, and his stupid glasses and his stupid leather bag. 

“Danke, Steffen,” Astrid says, and scoops her books from his desk. I keep my eyes on him as she walks away, to make sure he’s not watching her do it, and I keep them on him until she has slipped out of the room ahead of me. I’ve never felt more like a territorial dog. 

“Good chat?” I say, my intentions of sounds casual coming out weird instead, while Astrid strolls along next to me, examining the paintings hung along the walls of the hallway. 

“Oh, yes, it was fine. We talked about Marietta Robusti, mostly. Steffan was showing me paintings of bowls of peaches and things.”

“Peaches?”

“Yeah, she painted peaches proficiently.”

“Right. You were just talking about peaches. He didn’t, like, say anything else to you, did he?”

“Not really. Why?”

She pulls on her coat as we exit to the courtyard and brace against the gust of icy wind. “Because of what I was saying before, about being careful around that guy. I think he wants more from you than discussion about bowls of peaches, you know?”

“Oh, yeah, I thought about that. You’re could be right.”

“I’m right?”

“Yes, I think he has a certain way of looking at me when we’re talking.”

“Oh,” I pause, having expected pushback. “Well, yeah, I think so too, and I think you should be careful about being alone with him.”

“Jude!” she cries, “He’s my tutor. I can’t stay away from him, exactly.”

“Yeah, but if he wants to drag you up every class to talk to you alone, then maybe you should pretend to be too busy. At least then you won’t be uncomfortable-”

“I’m not uncomfortable. He was saying interesting things about Marietta Robusti.”

“Marietta Robusti,” I echo, forlorn, and I hold the door to the café where we have our Friday afternoon coffee. “Maybe he should email you about Marietta Robusti and her famous peaches, huh? Has he heard of Gmail?”

“Or maybe you shouldn’t worry so much. It’s okay. He’s my tutor, and if he wants to speak to me about my assignments, then it is fine. If he wants to fuck me, I’ll say no. It’s like you think he will coerce me. Like he will lock the door of the classroom and trap me inside.”

“Yes, that’s what I was picturing. That he’d throw a big sack over you like a cartoon villain and run away with you slung over his shoulder.”

“Why do you say things like that? As if he has a sack waiting under his desk with which to steal women.”

I laugh at her unintentional comedy, and we reach the top of the queue. “Könnte ich bitte einen Latte, einen Americano und ein Stück von diesem Kuchen haben?”

The barista nods. 

“I don’t want any cake today. I’m not hungry,” Astrid says. As we shrug out of our coats and hang them across the back of our chairs, I nod, “I’ll have it all to myself, then.”

I reach across the table for her hand, and stroke my thumb across the sharp peaks and valleys of her knuckles. 

“Later, I think we should go to a play I’ve been interested in seeing,” she says. I pull a face, and she frowns. “What?”

“I hate plays.”

“That’s ridiculous. You cannot hate an entire art form.”

“I do. I just don’t like the way they talk and move their faces. It makes me cringe, and I find them unwatchable.”

“They need to talk and move their faces to say the lines.”

“We can’t go to a play, anyway. My friend Jen is coming.”

“Oh, is that today?” our order arrives, and she dunks her spoon through the foam of her latte to destroy the steamed milk heart on top. “I forgot it was happening.”

“Yeah, I’m leaving to collect her from the station in, like, half an hour.”

“That’s fine.”

“Are you still up for dinner at mine?”

“Oh, yes, we planned that too, didn’t we?” She exhales slowly. “Yes, I suppose. Though you live so much further from here than I do. Wouldn’t it be easier if we ate at my apartment?”

“What, like you’ll cook?”

“No, you can still cook, but at mine. Wouldn’t it be more comfortable?”

I take a contemplative bite of chocolate cake. Astrid’s apartment is smaller, but it has the unique benefit of not smelling like tobacco, and a heating system that works with some semblance of reliability. Still, we had a specific plan. Now I’ll have to tell Jonas.

“If that’s what you want,” I say with reluctance. “I suppose your place is a good bit nicer than mine.”

“I think Jen would like it.”

Jen wouldn’t care, but I nod in agreement. “Yeah, you’re right. It’ll be nice for her to go straight to a nice warm apartment, rather than, like… mine.”

“So true.” She steals a crumb of cake that crumbles onto my plate. “And I want to be in a good mood when I meet her. I feel I will be a little tired after travelling to yours.”

“Mm, good thinking.”

Astrid reaches for my fork, and I relinquish it. I watch as she digs wholeheartedly into the remains of my chocolate cake, then finally, in defeat, I slide the plate to her and let her finish the whole thing.

Beginning // Prev // Next

[hellosweetart]

I’ve thought of another route after the asylum ending: where Francis develops schizophrenia after Nacha and Anastacha cut him off. I’m no mental health expert but after doing a bit of research this is what I could come up with so if there’re any inaccuracies, my bad. Francis is completely isolated and locked up in his white room. He’ll never see his wife and daughter again after he kidnapped them and forced them to love him. When they told him they don’t love him anymore, it ultimately broke him. He can try all he wants to escape but he’s all locked up. And now his spirit is so broken that he didn’t have the will to live or find them anymore. Francis spends the rest of his days crying, calling out for Nacha and Anastacha to come back to him or lie down on his bed in a listless catatonic state. Francis won’t eat or take his medication even if the nurses ask him to.

He will create a world where he’s still with his family again, before everything went downhill. He and Nacha are still in love, she fully supports him and cooks him his favourite meals. Anastacha still loves him as a father. He still gets to hug her and say “I love you to his family.” He will create scenarios where they all lovingly spend time together like the park, the pool, the beach, anywhere as long as he gets to spend his every waking moment with them. What Francis isn’t aware of is that he’s actually all alone and that he’s just talking to the walls.

The psychiatrists and detectives observed Francis’s strange behaviour of hearing voices, talking to himself, his catatonia, etc, however since mental health care wasn’t the best so I don’t believe they know how to deal with it. During Francis’s sessions with his psychiatrist, if they try to shatter his perfect delusions, Francis will break into hysterical sobs and will frantically attack his psychiatrist shouting, “No you’re wrong! My wife loves me! My daughter loves me! We’re happy together! I know they love me! We’re in love!”

Francis’s memories will get blurry but if his psychiatrist questions Francis about his past or show something that will trigger any of his awful memories like a pot of hot tea or cigarettes, Francis will become more unstable and will have a mental breakdown, shrieking in fear as vague memories of his father abusing him or his mother psychologically abusing him comes back. Once again the medical assistants have to restrain him.

Eventually, Francis’s delusions would evolve to him regressing into a time when he was still with his mother. Even though his last memories with his mother was traumatic, he still held some love for her and Francis wanted to go back to a time where his mom still loves him.

“Mommy…mommy…” Francis muttered like a sad little boy asking for his mother’s affection, “Mommy…I’m tired… mom…can I ask for a hug… dad’s being cruel again… mom… can you tell me a story…”

He would go from crying fits to happy childlike giggling and vice versa. Soon his delusions would combine where all the three people he loves the most in his life come together as one happy family. He wouldn’t have to experience sadness and loneliness again as long as he has his mother, wife and daughter with him. Sometimes Angus appears as this weird uncle figure/good friend because a part of Francis still cares for him in a morbid way. This shows who Francis is at his core. He was an extremely traumatised and lonely child who went through so much abuse that it turned him into a monster that hurts people yet buried his emotions deep within himself. Everyone in his life abandoned him, including his own family. If no one could truly love him, what else can he do other than create a world where he’s happy with the ones he loves?

After years of being locked up in his padded cell, Francis Mosses is no more. He lost any semblance of what’s left of his former self. All that’s left of him is an empty shell drowning in his own hallucinations and delusions of the comfort of his made up happy family. The doctors would either lobotomise him or wait until the day of his execution.

As the day of his execution comes, Francis will savour his final meal of beef stew and strawberry cheesecake as he cries because it’s tastes just like home, how Nacha made his meals, where he and his family would sit down to have a quiet family dinner together. When Francis is strapped to the electric chair, he could barely make out his surroundings but he thought he saw his wife and daughter at the front stands (and possibly Angus at the back). When the executioner asks for his final words, all Francis could say is, “Nacha…Ana…where are you? I still love you…” before finishing the job.

Angus could only hide the sadness in his eyes with his hat. Even though he’s angry that Francis got himself caught, he still sees him as a friend and a part of him misses him. Nacha and Anastacha are crying into each other’s arms for support. All of their source of trauma is finally over. Despite everything Francis put them through, they don’t truly hate them as they thought they would. They still felt some sympathy for him but nothing could put weight the grief they caused them. Both mother and daughter stuck to each other after the execution since they only have each other now and they’ll learn how to cope with this together.

~ SK Francis anon 🔪

This is definitely one of the worst and saddest endings of the SK fanfic. When he is hallucinating about his family, it reminds me of Alice: Madness Returns, there the protagonist created her own world of imagination.

I can also see that in spite of the trauma SK Francis had inflicted on them, there still part of Nacha and Anastacha that still care for him. They know its a wrong feeling but he has never been physically abusive to them, nor dropped his duty of being husband and a father. They are financially stable thanks to his hard work as a milkman. Its just that...his method of taking care of them is...suffocating. They don't have freedom when he's around. Meanwhile, Angus is weeping inside, not only he lost a companion on his business, but more importantly, his friend and ally.

It may take a looooolng loong way for Nacha and Anastacha to recover from the trauma. Its their life now.

Also, this is pretty silly and funny but can you imagine that during his execution, Isthar Ereskigal appeared and took away Francis.

"AH, my other lover, I finally got you!"

Of course Francis, in deluded state, thought Nacha is talking to him. "Ah, my sweetie. I thought I'll never see you again..."

People around are mortified to see a floating undead female monster took the one of the worst criminal in their century.

Nacha is the most terrified of the bunch because how much she looks just like her. Ana felt the same.

"YOU TWO ENJOY YOUR LIVES! HE IS MINE NOW! HAHAHAHAH"

Then poof, the monster is gone with him.

I am sure Ishtar will "borrow" a potion from Lilith that will make him into a literal monster in Astral Circle.

[ttarpii]

satisfied - sakusa k. - Prologue

May 5, 2014 ~ 800 words

m.list

For as long as she could remember, yn had the privilege of Sakusa Kiyoomi's presence in her life. In the beginning, he was just a subtle light that would creep in through the blinds of her heart, but day by day, his light would eventually envelop her being in a soft, yet persistent warmth, and their souls would intertwine into a beautiful knot of friendship.

Everyone has their special person, their other half that complements them in every way. Someone who can tell how you feel without a second glance, someone who can soften your heart when times are tough, and bring out the best of you, all while simultaneously healing the wounds that you didn't even know you had. Sakusa had always been her special person, and she liked to hold onto the greedy feeling that perhaps, she was his.

For the majority of it's existence, their relationship was that of best friends, and neither questioned or addressed it, because, what was the point? When they were kids, anyone could tell that the pair were inseparable. But as people grow up, the concept of two people of the opposite gender being "just friends" becomes more and more unfeasible. In highschool, their classmates didn't ignore the gentle privilege that only yn recieved from the moody spiker.

"Yn, aren't you gonna confront that new girl? Its embarrassing how hard she's tryna get with Sakusa.."

"Why would I care if she wants to date him? They'd make a cute couple honestly 🤔"

"so you're telling me there's seriously nothing going on between you guys?? You're joking right..? I've known Sakusa for 2 years and the only times I've seen him smile are when he's with you, AND TRUST ME, MY INSTINCTS ARE TELLING ME ITS LOVE. 😏"

"I mean.. I've never really thought about it that way before, but I'm sure it's just because we've known eachother so long 😭"

"you're stronger than I could ever be yn, you have this total hottie at your beck and call and you don't like him a little bit?? 😔"

Conversations about their relationship were frequent, and they only grew day by day. At first, Yn was annoyed. Sakusa was her best friend, and it felt like people were insulting their decade long friendship. But as the conversations only dragged on, she started to tolerate them, and then, she started to listen. It was undoubtedly true that Sakusa treated her differently from everybody else, and it was also true that he was indeed very handsome. She never noticed it growing up, but his curly locks framed his face in the perfect way, and his eyes had a special charm to them that fit his chiseled features. Not to mention, the moles adourning his face only added to his beauty. It wasn't long until she realized her feelings. That what she thought was platonic was actually much more complex.

Her friends and peers would only feed her delusions, and eventually, she started to act differently around him, hoping he'd maybe take the hint, confess his undying love for her, and then make a dashing proposal asking her to be his girlfriend. The changes were subtle, she would start wearing makeup around him, be just a tad bit more touchy, and of course bring up romance every so often.

But even if the changes were subtle, of course her best friend would immediately notice them. And of course, he would react, right? But, he didn't? And maybe that was the first sign that something was off. He never gave her any hints back of the possibility of liking her. And eventually, she could tell her efforts were in vain, because the comfort they typically had was gone. An outsider wouldnt have noticed anything, but she knew. There was an uncertainess in his smile, and his voice and touch wavered. She had been wondering when he would recognize her efforts, until she realized. She finally figured out the quintessential fact that shattered her world. The eyes he gave her were special, but they were always set for something else. Sure, he was different with her, but with volleyball, he shown the brightest, and she knew her presence could never give him what volleyball gave him.

He knew of her feelings, but he would never like her back.

It was a simple, yet obvious conclusion. She had been making a fool of herself, how could she call herself his bestfriend if she couldnt even notice how he felt about her? They were strictly platonic, nothing else. In a fit of embarrassment, the extra attention she gave him vanished quickly, and were replaced with larger walls intended to protect him from her evergrowing feelings. And as they grew up, these childish feelings of hers only grew, but as they increased she would only get better at hiding them. Because, it didn't matter if he would never like her back, as long as she had him in her life, she would be satisfied.

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IM ACTUALLY SO SORRY HOW LONG THIS TOOK TO COME OUT. OH MY GOSH IM ON MY KNEES BEGGING FOR FORGIVENESS 😭😭😭

Future updates will not take as long I pinky promise 😞😓🤙

anyways sorry if this chapter was a little boring!! I js wanted to set up some background before getting into the main dish.. 😈😈😈

yn is actually so strong bc I would've folded so hard and so quickly for sakusa

I love it when I can write the title of the story in the actual writing, and I can tell it's going to happen a lot in this one

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taglist(5/30) @soobinsbreadscrumbs @scxrcherr @tsukkinginamo @madiexuberant @eleanorheartschishiya

[darklinaforever]

https://www.tumblr.com/aryas-faces/759627378192465920/the-house-of-the-dragon-writers-are-so-jealous-of?source=share

Lol just lol

Wow. Reading so much crap at once should be banned.

The delusion that Aegon II took the throne for his family is reported by Eustace, a maester pro-greens and anti-Blacks / Rhaenyra, who spends his time whitewashing them as much as possible. What he says about the Greens is still highly questionable. Especially since this bullshit of only wanting to protect one's family as a motivation to take the throne can quickly be challenged when we see how different Aegon II seems to be with the crown on his head, ready to do anything to keep it for himself and absolutely not mischievous. Firing Otto and refusing the peace agreement proposed by RhaeRhaenyra which would precisely save his family, except his grandfather who... well that's good because he doesn't care! Not to mention calling Rhaenyra a whore as easily as he breathes when apparently before taking the throne he actually respected Rhaenyra saying what kind of brother would steal what belongs to his older sister ? A little common sense. Eustace's comments about the Greens / Aegon II taking the throne are not at all consistent with Aegon II's behavior after that.

Then, the same, the so-called great exceptional link between Syrax and Aegon II is propaganda bullshit. Did Sunfyre love Aegon II? Yes. Is the opposite true ? No. He saw it as a kind of replaceable accessory. As proof, when he loses Sunfyre, he says that he wants a new dragon which will be an even more efficient Sunfyre. That doesn't sound like someone who cares about their dragon. Unlike Rhaenyra who just says that her team just needs dragons otherwise they are lost to the war. At no time does she look for a better, more efficient Syrax. Also, if we really have to decide who seems to have a better connection with her dragon in a deep way, it is undeniably Rhaenyra with Sunfyre. I remind you that Sunfyre was hatched for Rhaenyra and that she rode him from the age of 7, making her the youngest dragonrider. Syrax also formed a mated paur with Caraxes, Rhaenyra's husband's dragon. But apparently, it is Aegon II who has an exceptional bond with his dragon ? My eye. Once again, we must differentiate between the words of propaganda and the facts in the book. Also, gold and yellow are almost the same color. When you put official images of Syrax and Sunfyre side by side validated by GRRM sorry but... Well Syrax is also golden from what we see. Honestly, who tells you that the maesters didn't just try to tone down the color of Rhaenyra's dragon to highlight Sunfyre and Aegon II ? See here for more development on the color of Syrax :

If the writers wanted to make Rhaenyra want to participate in the battles in HOTD, it's simply because they didn't know what else to do with the character and give her a false badass look. Not to show off her doing to Aegon II or make her as brave and selfless as him. This literally has nothing to do with your dear Aegon II here. It's just that the writers have no imagination. Then, sorry to shatter your dreams, but there's nothing brave about Aegon II going into battle. It's unconscious. A monarch generally does not go to the battlefield. Because life is precious because... well it's the fucking monarch ?! Sending him to death's door is stupid and counterproductive. Also, people seem to forget that Rhaenyra couldn't even fly a dragon in Fire and Blood when the war started, because she had just had a complicated stillbirth with Visenya. But obviously, no one is going to take all that into account. Let's forget the historical context and Rhaenyra's physical state to treat Fire and Blood's version as cowardly and selfish for not going onto the battlefield when there's no the fucking point here. All this to try to make Aegon II appear brave and selfless ?! Aegon II ?! He is neither of those two fucking words.

I remind you once again that no, the idea that Aegon II was forced to take the crown is bullshit, completely invented by Maester Eustace.

And no, Rhaenyra doesn't take the crown to protect her family in HOTD. She doesn't even have children when she accepts to be heir in 1x01. Rhaenys' words in 1x10 are just a classic fucking warning. Rhaenyra was already planning to be queen before this because she saw it as her duty and did not expect to be usurped the way the Greens went about it. So what are that person talking about ?! Rhaenyra even considers giving up her crown and her youngest boys (Aegon III and Viserys II) to the Greens to ensure the peace of the kingdom. So once again, what are you talking about ?! Rhaenyra didn't accept the crown at all to protect her family in this whole situation. Also, when you are designated heir, you accept and you keep quiet, that's all. Do you think 7 / 8 year old Rhaenyra was an aide to the throne or something ? Reading this kind of bullshit you might think that's what is being insinuated. To say that the Rhaenyra of the show is forced to have the crown is essentially saying that the 7 / 8 year old Rhaenyra who was named heir was completely on board and wanted it, when we're talking about a child who probably only accepted what was his duty in the first place, to then grow up always having this perspective in mind and having been educated for it, and then obviously considering the crown as rightfully his. Because it is. Quite simply. But apparently, with Green stans it's horrible... On the other hand, an impersonation if you have a dick is okay for them.

I also remember that in Fire and Blood, when Aegon II was crowned, the population demanded Rhaenyra...

On the other hand, I don't know in what universe this person lives to believe that Aegon II is the favorite of those who watch the show ? All the polls that are done on the internet simply prove the opposite. Yes, we all recognize the actor's performance on Team Blacks side, but he is certainly not one of our favorites and even less the favorite. Even some of the Greens Stans hate him... And yes, a large part of the Greens stans love an Aegon II that they fantasized in their heads, but they are not at all representative of the majority of the fandom. Again Aegon II is not a fan favorite in general in HOTD. This place is rather held by Daemon or then (to my great despair) Aemond (ironically because he is precisely a poor version of Daemon).