#or just general angst and hurt comfort

[haven-gum-rockrose]

Underrated fanfic moment. When someone is speed drinking water and the other person is like "slow down. Youre gonna choke" or "take it easy, you'll make yourself sick" or something like that fkidvkdsigebdkshebfmdjsbdkskhe

[mars-wuz-herez]

“You can’t just go around killing people!”

“Why not?”

“Wh- BECAUSE ITS WRONG SHADOW!”

“THEY DIDN’T THINK IT WAS WRONG WHEN THEY KILLED HER!!”

“…”

“She loved earth more than anything. She wanted to live here, explore it, experience it. But they took that away from her.”

“Shadow….”

“You say you are a defender of this planet, a protector of the people…but Sonic…….

do you know who you’re protecting?”

[demigod-shenanigans]

Yeah we spend a lot of time making fun of Jason for getting knocked out so much and there are a lot of brick jokes in this fandom (and I get why) but can we pause briefly to talk about how traumatic that whole incident was for Leo? He spends several pages thinking he’s responsible for his best friend getting severely injured and potentially dying and I. Don’t find that very funny actually

[silversnowblossom]

I think what really gets me about kaveh's character story 5 is that a lot of people seem to think that alhaitham is cold. but like, the fallout of their friendship happened because he cared too much. because alhaitham was worried about kaveh and the self-destructive pursuit of his ideals/spiral he was trapped in thanks to his guilt, realized that this idealism would cause problems for kaveh in the future, and tried to warn him about it. and kaveh didn't take it well.

and yeah, he was probably too blunt about it as usual, but i'm sure kaveh telling him that he regretted ever being friends with him (considering they were best friends - also, that confirmation from mhy that is canon is great - and kaveh is likely alhaitham's first friend) must've deeply hurt alhaitham. because yeah, he's intelligent and rational and doesn't outwardly emote much when he's not arguing with kaveh, but he's still human. he still has feelings. and it's kaveh that crossed the line and destroyed what they had between them (which i'm sure he'd regretted later, something that probably only added to the immense guilt plageuing him). we all knew that whatever happened between them had to have been explosive, given the hints from alhaitham's character stories, but ouch.

honestly, poor alhaitham. and poor kaveh. </3

just. mhy really went all-in on the angst with kaveh's character stories, and it's delicious. absolutely adore what they did here

[whoopsies-daisies]

hey tadc fanfic writers

pls write more jax angst please pleeeeeeaase write more jax angst. I need to see that man fucking BREAK. you understand. Thank you for your consideration.

[not-poignant]

Daily excerpt from chapter 80 of Underline the Black:

Gary felt like a cad. He crossed one leg over the other and looked towards the door which led to the lounge where Efnisien was curled up on the couch with his cream blanket. He'd nested that morning, dragging all the other blankets onto the bed, and when Gary had asked if he could join, he'd just seen Efnisien's hair - the only part of him visible - move as he'd shaken his head.  'Did you tell Efnisien all of this?' Gary said.  'Some of it,' Flitmouse said, his voice breaking, 'but I don't think he understands, and I don't know how impossible it will be for him as an alpha. Oh, they were just awful, weren't they? They were just awful to him, making him that, giving him no choice. I know he's made a choice now, but he doesn't understand himself, and we don't fully understand him, but I do know if we see him through the lens of only an alpha - or if I see him through the lens of only an omega - we'll both be wrong. I know you're going to do more with him, and I do believe he wants that, but you don't know what it's like to sleep with you, do you? You'd never put yourself through that, would you? Well think about that. Please? Ah, I have to go. I'm dreadfully- I have to go.'

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

https://www.tumblr.com/twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat/757621214127833088/okay-and-if-we-cheated-on-satoru-would-his-lil

ngl ari this made me kinda curious, like… would satoru be the type of guy to js leave you without saying a word? would he make a scene and be super dramatic??! though i can’t even imagine doing that to him i’m too soft 😞💀

(not the same anon btw)

anon i’ll be so real with you i don’t really wanna imagine this at all 😭😭😭 i draw the line at hurting satoru gojo . my brain rejects the very concept

[i-ran-into-a-lampost]

Everybody decided that this guy needs to go through hell like canon wasn't enough for y'all PLEASE

[izzydaninja]

Summary: "One moment, he’s on his own, debating on taking Rouge’s offer to join her and the others for Sonic’s birthday party, and then the next, the sky’s ripping open with some strange looking portal, and he’s being pulled in. Everything goes white, and when he comes to, he’s in a very familiar, long, metallic hallway."

*No stealing!* Thank you!

[somegrumpynerd]

Drawing something so uncharacteristically un-silly I keep having to take breaks to look at fun things to keep myself going

[musewrangler]

“Marcellus!” called a new voice and two more Romans appeared. The speaker was broad and frowning heavily. “By the gods why are you speaking with a slave ?”

Piett went cold as Marcellus turned furious eyes upon him.

“What.”

“You missed that cuff?” his companion asked, seizing Firmus’s arm and bringing it up to display the hated iron.

“How DARE you be here!” Marcellus snarled, backhanding Piett across the face. “How DARE you come here armed as well.”

His sword was roughly stripped from him. Everything in Piett had him wanting to fight back, but he knew that would most certainly be a death sentence.

“I…the General gave it to me,” he answered, wiping blood from his mouth. “I was given to understand I was to wait here…”

[angstyaches]

Mmm, sometimes I just imagine and bathe in the angst of a sad character sitting at a table, staring at their food, unable or just unwilling to take a bite.

[mysticallilac]

Hurt Prompts

Prompts For A Character Who Has Given Up/ Is In Their Darkest Hour

Potentially Triggering- brief talk of suicide, mild swearing, general hopelessness, implied past trauma, talks of death, PTSD, etc

1- "They call it the darkest hour, but I'm pretty sure it's been years at this point."

2- "Time heals all wounds? Bullshit. It's been years, and look at us- still just as traumatized as a decade ago."

3-"I hate you so, so fucking much."

"Me too."

5-"It'd be better if you were gone."

"I would love that."

6- "I hate- I hate existing."

7- "If I were gone, no one would miss me."

8- "Hurt me. Hurt me all you want. I guarantee you, the only people who would care would only be the ones mocking me."

9- "You think I don't hear how you go behind my back? You think you're my friend? Well, newsflash. I don't have friends."

10- "It hurts. It hurts so, so much. Getting out of bed, everyday, only for them to tell you you aren't enough. Taunt you about how ugly you are. Ridicule your every move. Eventually, you give up. Eventually, you move out of your bed, but your head sinks deeper into the covers."

11- "Describe how I feel in one word? Suicidal."

12- "Feel like stopping. I feel like stopping. Everything."

14- "You… you're leaving? But you're my- my last friend."

15- "The day he/she/they died, was the day I did, too."

(please tag me if you use, I'd love to see what u come up with, other rules pinned)

[fairysteve]

send a ☆ for some random angst

will most likely be for steve if you don't specify (you can specify au too! check my pinned post)

[shiningstages]

5. forehead kiss ( Elsner giving to Ginger! )

@waywardcollective | kiss meme

For how fun-loving, bright and cheery, center-of-attention aura and energy the woman could be, even Ginger could feel a bit exhausted at a party. Become a wallflower or blend into the crowd; act as if she wasn't even there at all. It was part of her job at P.A.S.E., so of course she had to be good at it. But, if the other Marchands especially were here, they'd know that Ginger must've had something on her mind. Whether it was the littlest thing or one of the biggest events in her life, a single thought that went too long in her mind could give her pause.

Maybe it was the tension in the air that even she couldn't clear up. Despite the festivities - pastries made by yours truly and her little helpers, decorations they could all scrounge up thrown together as best they could, soft, festive music echoing from one of the record players - they were still hiding out. This was still the workplace where they saved people starving for emotions, makeshift meeting rooms holding memories of raid plans, along with announcements of plenty of both good and bad news throughout the year. Maybe that's what it was - the bad finally outweighing the good in her mind? They...they lost so many this year. Progress and change was exchanged for more lives than what Elsner preached or ever wanted - more than any of them ever wanted to give up. Yet they all pressed onward towards the hope for a better tomorrow; towards the eradication of both emotions and synths; towards a simple, peaceful moment in life...

Maybe she was just lonely amidst it all. She had her brothers and her cute little niece, Eli and all of her other close friends, and Elsner close to her heart. But the thought of everything throughout the year finally catching up to her, she just felt...Weak, and lonely in not wanting to share that fact. To take a moment for herself. One of the best operatives praised for her work couldn't be seen by anyone impressionable or new, especially not with wet eyes. It was all silly - every dark thought that passed in her mind was met with a scoff or light laugh to herself. It wasn't like her to hold so much in. Nor was it like her to let everyone else wallow in a similar fashion, having cheered up plenty at this little shindig before disappearing to a distant, empty hallway. Sipping at her drink, trying to calm herself while reminiscing over fond memories and chiding her inner demon.

She really wasn't herself tonight, for Elsner couldn't have snuck up on her so easily. Her bangs are brushed up gently, and warm lips are placed as a soft kiss on her forehead, before Ginger even has a moment to react. The action makes her so startled that a few tears leave her defenses, gazing up at the man, wide-eyed and speechless. It takes her too long to catch her breath, clear her throat, feel the rise of blush on her cheeks. "Elsner, I, um, don't think there's any mistletoe hanging about out here." She isn't looking around to corroborate her claim. She's only looking into his eyes. Trying to find a meaning; a feeling...Not caring, yet caring so much. "...Elsner, um...C-Can I...?" Her voice croaks, and her hands move upwards unconsciously until they hover in-between what little space they have between them. Near his face. Ready to brush his cheek or comb his hair, or do some playful little ruffle, poke, pinch, squeeze, even pour a bit of her drink on him so she choose it...Yet she can't move, blindsided by herself that she's startled once again into inaction. Her blush deepens, and she can't help but let out a sheepish, giddy little laugh, covering her face with both her glass and her useless hands. "Oooh~ God above..." She groaned out, muffled in her palms, sniffling when she finally reveals herself again to the man. Smiling at the idiot she was being right now, yet she wonders if he was none the wiser to her inner workings. Maybe he read her like an open book. Maybe she would be forever shut up. "...What do you see in front of you right now, Elsner?" Words soft and dainty like she had become, a tremor in her tone, smile warm like the sun while the rainclouds still held true in her eyes.

[chuluoyi]

✎ all of me

- gojo satoru x reader

you understand that some things in marriage just needs compromise. and he soon understands too, when you're at your most vulnerable and he fails to be by your side when you need him the most

genre: angst, hurt/comfort, established relationship (you're married & have a son!) argument, feral gojo, mentions of injury & blood, fluff

note: if it isn't obvious by now i'm in the mood of angst-hurt/comfort this week HEHE :)) this is longer than the usual love entry, so i hope you'll enjoy it!

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

Bantering with your husband is not uncommon―in fact, it happens on daily basis.

"Satoru― I'm talking to you!"

But having serious arguments with him is another matter entirely.

Your fists tightening at your sides, facing his unamused expression. How insufferable is he? You told him that everyday, but right now, he's truly surpassed previous levels of infuriating behavior.

"And I can hear you, sweetheart," he retorted, casting a glance your way. The term of endearment he used for you sounding almost like a sneer to your ears and you felt offended.

"I don't think you're taking this seriously," you griped, trying to calm your emotions, still balling your hands. "Someone is following our son on his way back from school―how can you be this... flippant?!"

Numerous photograph of your son exiting the school building from different angles had arrived in your mailbox, and if it wasn't a creepy warning from those who placed a target on his back, then you didn't know what it was.

Satoru let out an exasperated grunt. "I'm telling you, I'll pick him up for the rest of the week. No one will lay a hand on him."

You gritted your teeth. "And I'm telling you, they're trying to make you do just that. Even morons know not to mess with you― they're leaving hints, and you're taking the bait!"

Contrary to what you believed, Satoru felt just as worried as you upon knowing that someone might have marked his precious son, who was now six years old and had recently started attending preschool.

But this is where your approaches differ. You are always the cautious one, overanalyzing each detail, while he leans towards being impulsive, often resorting to brute force.

"Who do you think can stand a chance against me?" Satoru challenged with a real sneer this time. "Remember my words, wife, no one is going to hurt me, you or our baby. I'll end them where they stand."

"That's not the point!" you threw your hands in the air, irate. "Satoru, they're going to take advantage of―"

"Look, I don't want to argue with you." Satoru's gaze was hard on you, his tone clipped, and it made you stiffen. "His safety comes first— and you, of all people, should know I'd never let anything happen to him. You need to quit nitpicking and have a little faith in me."

"I know you are more than capable, but you are not―!"

And then he said it, and his words piercing through you like a knife―

"Don't compare me to you," your husband remarked a little too coldly. "I can do things you can't. Just rest your pretty head, I'll take care of the rest."

Nevermind that he blatantly dismissed your skills as a jujutsu sorcerer, nevermind that he totally didn't listen to you at all―he just went and made himself look like some sort unparalleled god, forgetting how much his hubris could actually take him.

And all these thoughts only made you angrier.

"So be it then." You tried desperately to hold yourself from shaking because you'd be damned if you showed it to him. "A word of advice, Satoru: beware of your arrogance."

With those words, you spun around, marching off toward your son's room, because no way in hell was you going to sleep with that obnoxious prick tonight.

But when you caught the sight of your baby scuttling away from the gap in the door, a fragment of your heart crumbled. Oh. He has seen it all.

In Gojo Satoru's mind, he is made of two things: a powerful jujutsu sorcerer and a family man.

With his immense strength, comes a certain responsibility. And with that responsibility, certain habits have formed. If you just took a few seconds to breathe and looked back throughout the past decade he'd spent with you, you'd know that in fact―

It was also his way to shield you. Satoru stands by the principle that you and his little boy must be protected at all cost, and he most certainly would pull all stops to do just that.

But frankly, he couldn't deny that he felt insulted by how defiant you were. Did you really think he would let anyone ever touch your―his―son? He wouldn't, they'd meet his wrath first and you should've known that.

Still, something akin to guilt nudged at his conscience as he lay alone in your shared bed that night. It felt strange not having you cuddling him. He felt empty.

. . .

None of your shampoo-scented pillow, none of your nightdresses, all of it replaced by a single photo hanging in the wall and the urn of ashes—

Abruptly, he jerked his eyes open, shaken from the most dreadful nightmare he had experienced—

Of you no longer by his side.

“Mama.” Your little boy looked up to you with his doe-blue eyes in the next day, his hand gripping yours. “I’ll be fine.”

You were accompanying him to the preschool. While Satoru had requested Ichiji to drive him, you insisted on tagging along to keep a watchful eye as well. You'd leave your husband to pick him up later just as he wanted.

“Huh?” you turned to him, tilting your head.

“I'll stick by Uncle Ichiji's side the entire time,” he replied in a murmur. “And papa will be picking me up too later. If there are bad guys, they'll get him first.”

You bit your lip, feeling a wave of guilt wash over you. Your boy witnessed your outburst last night and hadn't inquired about it until now, and even then, he was trying to reassure you.

“So… don’t fight.” His round, cerulean eyes then darted towards you, blinking hesitantly, causing you to catch your breath.

He looks so much like Satoru. At six years old, he was the spitting image of him, except his personality—he took after you in that area. It was as if your son was a softer, more innocent version of him. And your heart twisted, remembering your argument last night.

Don't compare me to you.

With a sigh, you bent down to be eye-level with him and managed a smile, holding both of his little hands. “I’m sorry… it was just misunderstanding last night, okay? Don’t worry.”

“…really?”

“Really. Mama and papa were just tired,” you tried to reason, a thin smile on your face. "It's going to be okay, just like you said, yeah? Papa will beat the bad guys out there."

“Will he pull through...? If they bring a knife, and he's just there laughing, they can cut him.”

A giggle escaped your lips at your baby's innocent wonderings, easing the ache in your heart as you recalled how Satoru humored him in so many ways.

You gently poked your son in the cheek. "Nah, do you remember what he always goes on about?"

He puffed up his cheeks in response, his expression turning sour as if combing through memories of hundreds of shenanigans Satoru had instigated to recall his words. You let out a hearty chuckle, finding him so adorable.

"He's strong, he's going to win. He always does."

"Oh. Mmm." Your son scrunched up his nose cutely, before looking away and squeezing your hand. A sincerer smile bloomed in your lips, heart melting at the sight of your growing munchkin.

You will protect him. And maybe you could patch things up with Satoru later that night. Maybe yesterday you were just too paranoid.

That was the plan... at least until your son suddenly screamed—someone wrenching him from your grasp. Without a second thought, you reacted, flipping the attacker away from you and him.

. . . and that was the beginning of how everything started to unravel so terribly that day.

"Gojo-san...! There's been an incident!"

He got that call right after he finished some things with Yaga. Satoru teleported to the preschool right away, only to be greeted by a scene of utter chaos.

Several teachers stood outside the building, and police officers were present at the scene. It was all a blur of cursed energy until his eyes caught sight of—

His little boy, red-faced and obviously in fear, was clinging to Ichiji, who was frantically making calls. Some teachers gathered around him were seemingly trying to coax him to speak.

He didn't waste a second to dash towards him, tearing through the crowd.

"Are you okay? Hey, buddy, what happened?" Satoru pulled him away from Ichiji and turned him over, crouching to his level to check for any signs of injury or harm.

And upon seeing him actually here, his son's eyes immediately welled up with tears, and Satoru felt a chill run through his veins as he broke into sobs, which quickly turned into heart-wrenching wails.

"Mama—! F-find mama—!" the little boy choked out through his tears, clutching onto his shirt tightly and crumbling in his embrace, thoroughly inconsolable.

Satoru's sharp gaze quickly swept over the scene, seeking any clues, while he tightened his hold over him. It was then he noticed traces of your cursed energy mingled with blood.

They hurt you.

"Hey, kiddo—listen to me, it's going to be alright, yeah?" Satoru said, gently pulling away to wipe away his tears, holding the boy's face tenderly in his hands. "Go with Ichiji for now, okay? I'm going to bring mama back, I promise."

He didn't need to be told twice. Your son is always obedient when it matters the most. He gave him a small nod, still shaking with tears.

"Don't worry," he flashed a reassuring smile and ruffled his hair. "I'm the strongest, remember? I'll get her back," he vowed once again. "She'll be fine. Wait for me until then, yeah?"

Ichiji was ready to leave as he had called for those in headquarters as backup in case anything were to happen again. Trusting him to keep his son safe, Satoru took off as soon as he could no longer see the sight of his son's tear-streaked face trying to watch him as the car pulled away.

"I won't repeat myself— where is my wife?"

Satoru wasn't playing this time. He skipped past taunts and just plain threats. These little fries, he thought.

The man he held by the throat was in a lot of distress. "Hyaaa! It's him! Please, please, let me go! I'm acting under orders!"

He then flung him across the wall— might have added more cursed energy than necessary.

At the moment, his entire focus was on trying to locate you. He couldn't let his mind wander to anything else; in fact, he didn't permit himself to.

It didn't take him long to piece together the general location of where you were through the residual of your cursed energy. They stationed several hooligans in this abandoned warehouse to stall him, but he got rid of them quickly and he could sense that you were close by.

"It's Gojo Satoru!"

"Run! Ruuuun!"

What a pain. They picked the wrong person to mess with, and Satoru's lips curled into a manic grin as he opened his palm, pulling them in—

"Cursed Technique Lapse: Blue."

Chaos erupted as the building collapsed around him. He hoped you would realize he was here and manage to avoid getting caught in the wreckage. He was sure you'd know though.

And true to his thoughts, soon he found you— blasting your attacker away with a powerful kick.

Satoru thought that you were a sight to behold, really. And he was about to call out to you when he felt it.

It happened almost in an instant. The way his heart dropped to his stomach, and how his body reacted, barely whispering the incantation for Red as he shot it at something lurking behind you—

At that moment, the only thing you were aware of was the foul stench of a curse. Time seemed to stop before the overwhelming force of Red expelled it away from you.

But before then, you experienced a searing, white-hot pain that scorched through your flesh and pierced your abdomen—

"Y/N―fuck―!" The voice that came from Satoru's throat was raw and laden with panic.

He pulled you against him protectively as you collapsed, blinded by pain. He immediately felt warmth spreading across his lower body—your blood was rapidly drenching his shirt, and he felt a shiver down his spine.

You held onto him tightly while suppressing your scream, feeling every bit of your strength drain away along with the dark crimson blood that poured out of you.

"―toru―" you managed to croak amidst the scalding pain, curling and whimpering in his hold.

"Hey― sweetheart, please―" his voice rang in your ears, as he pressed down on your wound. His hands were shaking, and you clawed at him and groaned in agony. "I-I'm taking you back now― You're going to be alright, yeah?"

The wound was beyond anything you had experienced before, causing you to cry out and gasp for air. It was almost as if something fried your insides. It was hard to stay conscious.

"I've got you now. You're going to be okay." His voice was coarse, as he hurriedly carried you out. And he tried not to let the full-blown panic take over him when your body went limp in his arms, your breaths slowing, head lolling in his chest.

"You're going to be alright! You hear me, sweetheart? You're going to make it. Our baby― he's waiting for you. I promise you, you're going to be fine―"

Perhaps he was trying to tell that to himself, because despite the excruciating pain, a wave of reassurance washed over you.

You were in the arms of the strongest sorcerer alive, what more could you possibly afraid of?

A special grade curse. They had actually unleashed a potent curse and likely aimed at him as their final card—until it veered off course and struck you, leaving a searing gash across your abdomen.

Satoru felt numb as he sat in the waiting room in his bloodied uniform. You got hurt so terribly right in front of his eyes, and all he could feel was this profound void that seemed to bore through him and pierced his soul.

He was supposed to protect you. He said it to your face that nothing and no one would touch your son, and it was in his wedding vows that he'd protect you with his life too.

And yet what happened?

If only he was faster. If only he was able to pull you to him and protect you with his infinity—none of this shit would have happened.

Seeing your face twisted in agony and smeared with blood made him feel sick to his stomach. Inside that OR, you hovered on the brink of life and death, and he was here, unable to do anything.

Satoru rested his head against the wall, feeling a sharp pain surge through his chest. He remembered waking up to your face every morning, the way your touches felt, and how you had brightened his world for the past decade. If he lost you now... he wouldn't survive it. He would wreck anything, everything—

"Papa!" and came his voice of reason. Satoru immediately discarded his bloodstained jacket by instinct, throwing it away before his boy could see it, with Ichiji and Megumi closely trailing behind.

His son crashed himself into him and threw his little arms around his torso, crying—and in that very second, the thump of his heart sounded louder in his ears. Somehow it felt like a knife that twisted his insides.

"Hey, kiddo." Satoru repositioned him so that he would sit on his lap and hugged him, patting him in the back. "There, there... it's alright, yeah? Mama is inside, she'll get better soon."

Your little boy pulled away and wiped his eyes, and Satoru chuckled as he helped him blow his nose. His child was incredibly adorable, and his actions mirrored yours to such an extent that it made Satoru's heart soften.

"Mama g-got hurt trying to... tell me to g-go..." the boy suddenly said amidst his quieter sniffles. "And... she s-said... papa— i-is strong and g-going to win..."

You believe in him. Ignoring the ache in his chest, only able to reply him with a "Yeah..."

Not long after, Shoko emerged from the operating room and informed him that the surgery had been successful, though you would likely need to have a one-week stay in the hospital for observation. He intended to move you to the VIP suite and stay the night there, but then he remembered his son, who was holding his hand.

Satoru crouched down and patted him in the head, fixing him a smile. "See? Mama is okay, but she needs to sleep here to get even better. Now you go home first with big brother Megumi, yeah?"

Your son adored Megumi and often begged you to let him stay over at his place, but this time he looked hesitant, fiddling with his little fingers. "Really? Mama will be home... soon?"

"Mm-hmm, the more she sleeps here, the faster she'll go back home, alright?"

And with that, his baby nodded and Satoru turned to Megumi with a nod. "Thank you for this, Megumi."

The boy whose life he had once saved on some sort of a whim, now grown up and shared the same concern he had for you, Fushiguro Megumi had never before witnessed his benefactor expressing such sincere gratitude for anything before.

When you came to, your body felt as heavy as lead.

The discomfort in your abdomen made you flinch, and you almost let out a groan until you turned to your side and saw him.

Satoru was asleep while sitting in the sofa next to your bed, dark circles evident under his eyes. It might have been your imagination, but his cheeks appeared to be slightly red too.

You tried to recall what had happened to you when it came back—you urging your son to run away as you let yourself being taken away, almost escaping from that warehouse, the flash of excruciating pain, and Satoru's stricken voice.

So he must've been here since last night. Any remnants of your disagreement seemed to have vanished, seeing him there with you, barely covering himself with the blanket, with a frown still marking his forehead even in his sleep.

You wanted to reach out to him until the movement sent a sharp jab to your stomach and you cried out a bit.

In that split second, Satoru's eyes jerked open, and realizing you were awake, his gaze locked onto yours. "Y/N—" But your strained whimper and expression told him everything. "Does it hurt? I-I'll get Shoko, wait—"

And then he hit the call button. Throughout it all, he kept a firm grip on your hand for reassurance. A few minutes later, Shoko arrived and examined your wound, subsequently administering painkillers to alleviate your discomfort.

"It's going to leave a scar," she explained grimly, showing the mangled skin where the curse had made its mark on you, and seeing that, Satoru clenched his fists.

Shoko sighed, empathizing with her friend's frustration. "It's going to fade with time, don't worry. You did well, Gojo. You brought her here quickly. Had you been even slightly later, there could have been an irreversible damage to her organs."

But your husband remained quiet, unable to bring himself to look at you. And after she left, you tried to finally voice your question to him.

"O-our—"

"He's fine," Satoru immediately answered, squeezing your hand. "Our boy is fine. I'll tell Megumi to visit later—he's with him."

A sigh of relief came out of you. "Thank... goodness."

But his expression seemed to fall even further after hearing your response. Satoru settled himself on the seat next to you and lowered the rail on your bed, allowing you to be even closer to each other.

"Do you not feel any pain anymore?" he asked then, gently tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. He looked so sad, a stark contrast of how he usually was, and it bugged you.

"No... I feel fine now."

"Then, can I hug you?"

Of course you nodded without a second thought, and carefully, he wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you close and resting his face on the crook of your neck.

You knew what it was. Satoru was still visibly shaken by what had happened to you, and he wasn't great at expressing himself, so he tried to find consolation through this physical closeness instead.

"I'm okay..." you patted his back, trying to convince him. "I'm alright now, yeah?" But to your surprise, suddenly his whole body started to shake. "Satoru...?"

“…’m sorry.” His voice was barely above a whisper as he nuzzled you. “I shouldn't... have let you get this hurt...”

It always amazes you how Satoru always gets this distressed whenever you sustain any injury. You had seen him cry precisely two times now—once after you gave birth to your son and experienced severe bleeding, and now.

"It's not your fault..." you whispered in response. "You... have protected me well."

He held you tighter, his tone faltering. "I didn't."

"You have..." you stroked his hair, trying to convince him. "I'm still here, aren't I?"

Hearing you say that made Satoru's chest ache. The thought of something like this happening to you was unimaginable, and now that it had, he couldn't come to terms with seeing you hurt right in front of him.

"Don't—" he choked on his voice, his breath trembled against your neck. "Don't ever put yourself in danger again. If something happened to you, I wouldn't be able to live with myself..."

You couldn't make that promise. Despite the pleading in his voice, you knew deep down that your son's life—and his—meant more, and given the chance, you would obviously save theirs for yours.

“Satoru... I love you, you know that, right?”

So you simply embraced him close, hoping that in this life, you would live long enough that he would never have to see you like this again.

Epilogue

"Papa, how do I become stronger?"

Satoru blinked when his son asked him that so innocently and curiously, taken aback as he led him to your private room later that afternoon. "Oh? What brought this on?"

His first and only son, a perfect miniature of himself, pursed his lips. "I don't want Mama to get hurt again..."

Satoru's heart warmed at his baby’s sincere words, and despite himself, he chuckled.

"What's funny?" his son leveled a glare at him. "I'm being serious."

"Well, aren't you such a good boy? Don't worry, kiddo, I'll teach you my ways~"

"What ways?"

"Well, no need to rush, pumpkin. First of all, you will have to harness your skills and then you have to be more like me—"

"Do I have to be like you…? Is there no other way?"

"—? What's wrong with being more like me?"

"Everything...?"