#something something hand in unlovable hand something something

[mononijikayu]

don’t you ever say you love me — gojo satoru.

Don't ever say 'I love you' again Don't ever say 'us' again If we leave this place now, you and me The end of our love will arrive The heart you showed me The love that was given is a lie Take it all now And don't look for me ever again - don't ever say you love me; colde ft rm.

GENRE: alternate universe - canon convergence;

WARNING/S: r-18, nsfw!, amab! reader, use of he/him pronouns, male! reader, angst, romance, hurt/comfort, forbidden love, childhood friends, young love, friends to lovers, lgbtiqia+ romance, slice of life, family life, found family, raising family, family drama, traditional clans, mutual pining, loyalty, slow burn, intense emotional feelings, canon-typical violence, smut, kissing, explicit sexual content, orgasm, worship kink, semi-public sex, size difference, creampie, marking, aftercare, homophobia, internalized homophobia, trauma, emotional abuse, psychological torture, coercion, emotional manipulation, forced marriage, familial abuse, torture (emotional/mental/physical), depression, claustrophobia, suicidal ideation, guilt, imprisonment, somewhat of a happy ending;

WORD COUNT: 11k words

NOTE: i really do think that this series is a downward spiral now. i think in the end love like this really demands to be felt. life is the same side of the coin as joy. if there is joy, there is bitterness, after all. anyway, please enjoy the update!!! i love you all!!

TAGLIST: @js-a-silly-little-guy, @areyna, @midnight-138, @sukioyakio, @totallygyomeiswife, @anarchistcatowner1

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if you want to, tip! <3

HCWGBTBFWWJSAB

YOU WERE STILL EXHAUSTED, EVEN AFTER ALL THAT RESTING. Your body had laid still for hours, days even, sinking into the warmth of clean sheets and soft blankets but the horrible essence of the fatigue clung to you like a second skin. 

It wasn’t the kind of tiredness that sleep could cure. No, this exhaustion was deeper. It lived in your marrow, in the trembling of your fingers, in the quiet ache behind your ribs. You had survived, yes. But you were not okay. You knew that the moment your feet touched the floor and your knees nearly buckled beneath you.

Nearly two weeks underground. Two weeks without sunlight, without the gentle buzz of the world above, without anything but cold stone and colder hands. You had not seen the sky. You had not seen yourself. You weren’t sure which you missed more.

The psychological torment had left you disoriented, fractured, in a way. The physical pain, the bruises that still bloomed like rotting flowers across your body, the burns your mother had carved into you with ritualistic precision.

They were easier to catalog, you think to yourself. It was easier to point to and say, this is why I hurt. But the other wounds? The ones on the inside? You weren’t even sure where they started. Or if they’d ever end.

The servants didn’t meet your eyes. Not once. They flitted around you like ghosts themselves, careful and silent, like the sound of your voice might shatter them. Or maybe it was you who’d become something to fear. As if you had become an omen of something broken and cursed. 

Their gazes slid past you as if looking too long would stain them. You caught a few glances, though. Pity. Guilt. Horror. That was how you knew the bruises were still there, dark and unforgiving. 

That your face must have gone hollow from hunger and grief. Your skin was all too pale. Your presence was just as much too heavy. You looked less like a boy and more like something dug out of the earth and barely reanimated.

At some point, the silence of the halls and the stillness of their eyes made you wonder if you’d even made it out at all. Maybe you didn’t survive. Maybe you had died down there, and this, in this hushed estate, this half-life, this shadow was your afterlife. 

A slow, drifting haunt of a boy who never made it back. A ghost that wandered between rooms too grand and too cold, unremembered, unloved. A spirit that would never have to see Gojo Satoru again.

And for a fleeting, shameful second, that thought comforted you. Not having to face him ever again. Not having to see the look in his bright blue eyes when he realized what they had done to you. What had been forced upon you.

Because if you were a ghost, if you were dead, then you didn’t have to explain why you hadn't screamed louder, until your throat had bled itself from the weariness. Why you hadn’t fought harder for your freedom. Why you let yourself be broken by all of these greedy fools.

But you weren’t dead. Not yet. The pain was still real. The memories are still vivid. And Gojo Satoru would come. Eventually, he always did. You knew that much. Now more than ever, since you were going to get married.

The air inside the grand estate was thick, heavy with the sense of impending change. You had just returned from the family gathering where the engagement had been announced, where the eyes of the clan had burned holes into your skin, and the weight of their expectations had nearly crushed you.

As you walked through the corridors of your home, your heart felt like it had been torn open, the rawness of it bleeding through with every step you took. You had betrayed yourself. You had betrayed him.

Gojo Satoru hadn’t called, hadn’t shown up when he probably should’ve, but you knew it was coming. You believed he would be coming. And you knew you would not be able to stomach this. You would not be able to handle it.

As you fix your sleeve, hiding more of the grievous bruises, you think about how quiet it is. And more than ever, how loud the voices in your head were. Your mother is the loudest among them. Calling you over and over to be shamed. Over and over huddled with the grievance of things you knew weren’t true and yet are forced to believe. 

But when he comes, you know that you wouldn’t even look at him well. And even if you do, it would be through the lens of your guilt. You had already sacrificed him, you knew that. You had already made the choice. You just didn’t have the strength to do anything else.

“Master Gojo, you musn’t! My lord is not ready—”

But then, he appeared in the doorway.

He stood there, framed by the open entrance like some impossible force of nature, tall, his white hair unruly as always, his bright blue eyes sharp and intense in the way they looked at the world But there was something more in those eyes now. 

Something that made your chest tighten and your breath catch. It was anger. It was betrayal. It was horrible. It was grief. And it was confusing. It was everything that you hated. It was everything he hated. And it was all you both had. 

It all collided inside you like shards of glass, catching on your ribs, digging into the softest, most vulnerable places. You couldn't name it, not fully. It was too much, too quick. It was an unraveling that began somewhere deep and unseen and now came clawing up your throat.

All of it swirled together, stormlike, in the depths of his furrowed gaze as he took one step forward. There was nothing soft in his expression now. No glint of charm or ease. Just the unbearable weight of something he was barely holding back. He looked like a man who had spent his whole life laughing at the world only to find, all at once, that it had teeth.

“My lord, forgive me, I cannot stop—”

You sighed then. Not from irritation, not from exhaustion but from surrender. A quiet, mournful sort of release. A sound like the finest silk tearing, being nothing more than tatters in the edge of the blade.

“It’s alright…” You let your eyes flutter shut for the briefest moment. “Let us be.”

The servant hesitated, torn between duty and fear, glancing from your face to the man behind you. “But my lord, your mother, the dowager had told us—”

The words had barely left his mouth before Gojo Satoru’s voice cut through the room like a blade. “Did you not hear your own fucking clan leader?”

His voice rose like a wave, fury cresting and crashing, brilliant and breathless. His eyes, usually so lighthearted, were ablaze now. Bright blue flames fed by grief, by rage, by something far older and deeper than either.

“Leave us the fuck alone. Now!”

The air trembled with the force of it. The servant bowed, startled, and disappeared without another word. The silence that followed was immense. Dense. Gojo Satoru didn’t move, didn’t blink. He only stood there, chest rising and falling too fast, as though he’d just fought off a hundred ghosts and you weren’t sure if he had.

“What have they done to you?” Satoru’s voice came out low. Strangled, almost. Not a question, really. A gasp. A plea. A quiet, broken thing that barely reached the space between you.

“What the fuck?”

It wasn’t the usual lightness he wore like second skin. There was not the smirk, not the sarcasm that softened the world’s sharp edges. This voice was different. It scraped its way out of his throat, raw and aching, stripped of all armor.

He stood there, impossibly still, as if even breathing too hard might hurt you. And then he moved. Just barely. Just enough to reach for you. His hands trembled. You’d never seen them tremble. 

Not in the field, not in war, not when the world was on fire and everyone else had crumbled. But they trembled now. He reached for yours like they were made of glass. It was like one wrong move might shatter you entirely. His fingers brushed your palms. A whisper of a touch.

It was reverent. Careful. Hesitant in a way that broke your heart, because this was your Satoru. Your bright, bold, reckless Satoru. a\And now he looked at you like you were something sacred and already ruined.

You flinched.

It wasn’t much. Just a twitch. Barely there. But he felt it.

And the moment he did, his body froze.

His expression changed, slow and dreadful, like something inside him had just caved in. The light in his godly eyes, it was he one that had survived every loss, every betrayal, every blood-soaked battle. And yet it was dimmed. Not gone. But flickering.

“This is…” he tried. The words fell apart in his mouth.

He looked down at your hands, like they were accusing him. Like they bore evidence he didn’t want to see. He tried again, throat working visibly. “This is wrong. This shouldn’t be—”

But he couldn’t finish. His breath hitched. As if all the air in his lungs had been punched out of his stomach. He couldn’t breathe. And yet that sound, that small, sharp sound, had all but sent a chill down your spine.

Because you remembered that sound. You remembered it from years ago, when he stood over in the busy street, setting sun mixing with tears on his face. You remembered it from when the first mission that took the first child he couldn’t save. You remembered it from the silence after he’d begged you not to leave that night.

And now here it was again. That same hitch. That same fear. And Satoru Gojo was scared. The strongest, the untouchable, the one who laughed in the face of death was scared. And not for himself, no. He never was going to fear for himself. Instead, he feared for you. He feared losing you.

“Why?” he whispered, eyes never leaving yours. “Why have they… done this to you? What did they want? What the hell did they think they’d win?”

His voice cracked. Just barely. But you heard it. He wasn’t asking for answers. He was asking because he needed someone to wake him up from whatever nightmare this was. And you? You had no answer to give. Not one that wouldn’t hurt him more.

But maybe that was all that was left between you now. Hurt. And the spaces where love used to live. You couldn’t meet his eyes. Your gaze dropped to the floor, to your ruined sleeves, to anywhere but him. Guilt crawled its way up your throat, thick and sour. You didn’t know what you were And still, you couldn’t meet his eyes.

Because if you did, if you looked at him and saw all that love and grief in his face. You knew you’d break in all this shame, when you were just surviving, maybe. Or letting him see you like this. This weakened and bruised, all too pathetic.

You tugged your sleeve down, trying to hide the angry red burn that curled around your forearm like a brand. The skin still aches when fabric brushes against it, but you didn’t care. Pain had become a familiar thing, almost comforting in its consistency.

“It is nothing…..” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. Your words were cold. Practiced. Detached. “Let me be.”

But he didn’t move.

Didn’t let go.

Not one inch.

“Nothing?” he echoed, voice cracking like a fault line. “This is nothing to you?”

You didn’t answer. What could you say? That it was truly hurting you? That you wished it hadn’t? That it would’ve been easier if he hadn’t found you at all, if no one had? That being seen like this felt more unbearable than the torture itself?

Your silence only made the rage simmer harder in him.

But it wasn’t at you.

You knew that.

It was the kind of rage that didn’t roar or lash out, but sat trembling in his fingertips and seared the back of his throat like a scream he wouldn’t let loose. He held it in the way only Gojo Satoru could. Like a man who had too often learned that unleashing meant destroying.

You felt it in the way he held you now, barely touching. As if you were a thing already broken, and he didn’t trust himself not to make it worse. He exhaled, hard. The breath rattled with everything he couldn’t say.

Then, quieter this time. His voice was softer than it had any right to be, he said.  “Don’t lie to me. Please.”

You looked at him then. You really looked. At the hollow under his eyes, deeper than usual. By the way his mouth stayed pressed in a line, like he hadn’t smiled in weeks. At the pain he didn’t bother to hide anymore, because the act cost more than it gave.

“Satoru—”

“Megumi and Tsumiki are worried about you.” he said, steady now. Grounded in the only thing he had left: love. “I am worried about you.”

He swallowed hard, as if the next words physically hurt to say. “We couldn’t… We couldn’t hear from you. Days turned into weeks. Every time the phone didn’t ring, I thought—”

His voice caught again. He shook his head like he could will the thought away. “And now I see all of this. All of you. And I just…”

He trailed off, eyes searching your face like it might give him something he could hold. Something that made sense. Something to prove you were still you beneath it all. Something to prove that 

“I just don’t understand.” he said finally, barely above a whisper. “Why didn’t you let us in? Why didn’t you let me in?”

You looked away. Not because you didn’t want to answer. But because part of you still wasn’t sure how. Because the truth wasn’t clean. Wasn’t neat. Wasn’t a wound he could close with his infinite power or hold shut with shaking hands. The truth was messy. Ugly. Laced with shame and silence and survival. But you knew you couldn’t give him anything. Not after all this.

So you said, quietly, “They told me if I reached out, there’d be consequences. For all of you.”

“What?”

You met his eyes again. Watched the rage in them turn to horror. “And I believed them.”

His lips parted slightly, like he wanted to say your name. Like he was trying to tether you to him with just that but no sound came out. He waited. You took a breath. But it shook on the way in. And worse on the way out. Your badly bruised hands began to tremble.

“I agreed….they would leave you alone, if I agreed.” you whispered. The words felt foreign in your mouth, like they belonged to someone else. “To an arranged marriage.”

Satoru blinked. The silence between you snapped taut. “With… a distant relative of the Zen’in clan. My….my distant cousin.”

There it was. Said. Released into the air like a poison. You saw it happen in that instant. How quickly the blood drained from his face in slow, creeping in shallow waves. How the tension returned to his shoulders not as fire this time, but ice. 

There was utter stillness. Not a look of disbelief was in his face. It was a thunder strike. It was like he understood it too well. He believed you, what you were saying. That was the worst part.  He believed you. And he knew that you were believing your own words. That this was the price you had in order to love and care for the Strongest.

His mouth moved again. A soundless breath of your name. “When?”

His voice was flat and nosal.

Not even angry. Not accusatory. 

Just trying to hold himself together.

“Two weeks ago…..while I was still….” You couldn’t bear to finish the sentence. “It’s….”

He exhaled like he’d been punched. You forced yourself to keep going. Because if you stopped now, you'd never finish. You knew that too well. You didn’t have the heart to break him more than you were already doing now. Not when you loved this man with everything in you.

“It wasn’t official until….my mother released me. They…they cornered me. Said everything was becoming a liability. That I had too many ties to you. That if I didn’t accept the alliance, they’d make an example of someone close. Maybe you. Maybe the kids. Maybe even your friends.”

“And you believed them?” he asked, voice hoarse, not looking at you now, just staring somewhere near the floor, like the ground had shifted beneath him.

You nodded rather slowly. “I didn’t think I had a choice.”

A beat passed. “Did you tell anyone?”

“No.”

He inhaled again, sharp and shaky, dragging a hand over his weary face like he could wipe this version of reality away. Then he laughed. In a way you had never heard of before. It was a horrible, joyless sound. A thing cracked in half, you knew it did.

“Of course it’s the Zen’in.” he muttered. “Of fucking course.”

You stepped forward. He didn’t move. “Satoru…”

He finally looked up at you, bright blue eyes shining brighter than it had ever done in the many years you’d known him. Not with power, but with something far more terrifying. Something fragile. Something exposed.  

“I would’ve burned the whole goddamn clan down for you. No, not only that. I would burn the world for you. You know that. You of all people know that.”

Your breath hitched at his words. He took a single step toward you, slow and deliberate. “You know that, right? You know I would’ve fought every last one of them. I would’ve taken the war, the exile, the consequences—all of it—if it meant you didn’t have to go through this alone.”

Tears pricked your still bruised eyes. You looked down, almost too ashamed to meet his eyes. You did know that. You did know that he would burn the world for you. You knew that he would kill and kill if it meant keeping you safe. But you didn’t want that. 

You didn’t want him to do it. Never in your life do you want anyone to suffer for your sake. You tried to lower your head even deeper, trying to hide yourself from the shame and the grief and the guilt. But he wouldn’t let you hide.

“Why didn’t you let me protect you?” He asked you, his face full of anger and heartache. “Why can’t you? Why do you push to protect me? I don’t need it. I don’t need that.”

“Satoru…..Please.” You begged.

“I need you.” He whispers to you, more desperate this time. “I need nothing else. I need you.”

You couldn’t speak. All you could do was look at him, and feel your heart yearn for the words that came through with love. But you were drowning in your guilt, in your fears. In everything else that you couldn’t escape. The words hadn’t even finished ringing out when a sharp knock cut through the air.  Then the door opened. No invitation. No courtesy.

“I heard there was a disturbance.”

Your mother’s voice drifted in first. It was cool, precise, edged like a blade sheathed in silk. She entered without pause, her robes immaculate, her posture regal. A picture of the Zen’in’s pride in all those precious silks.

It was the kind of presence that didn’t ask for attention, but expected it. A woman who had long traded affection for power, and wore her lineage like a badge and a weapon both. And you can only know how your lover hated it.

Satoru’s entire body tensed beside you. You didn’t need to look at him to feel the temperature shift. It dropped like the onset of winter. Your mother surveyed the room with a single pass of her eyes. She saw the distance between you and her, saw the closeness between you and him. Saw the remnants of something tender hanging in the space like smoke. 

“I trust this matter is being handled.” Your mother says, too plainly. “After all, such things… are causing unnecessary complications.”

You straightened instinctively. Years of training. Years of fear. But Satoru didn’t move. Not for her. Not this time. He turned, slowly, voice low and tight with restrained fury. “Handled?”

She raised a brow. “You forget yourself, boy. This is a private matter of our clan and the  Zen’in. Not something you need to concern yourself with.”

“You threatened him, you old hag.” Satoru said, teeth clenched. “You threatened my lover. And you’re worried about disturbances?”

You flinched but not from him. Never from him. From shame. The truth. The way it spilled out like blood under bright light. “Satoru, enough….”

“No, no. I refuse to be quiet.”

“This marriage was necessary, boy.” she said flatly. “Our noble clan leader understood the weight of that. He agreed—”

“He agreed because you gave him no choice.” Satoru’s voice was louder now, rougher, cracking under the strain. “You cornered him. You tortured him. You told him people he loved would be hurt if he didn’t submit. That’s not an honor. That’s extortion. That is violence. And I will not stand for it.”

Your mother didn’t blink. “He is a son of a Zen'in. My son. He owes the clan his duty. And he knows that.”

“No, no.” Satoru growled, stepping forward. “He owes you nothing. You should know your place, you old hag. You call this duty, but it’s just control. You’re not saving the clan. You’re gutting it from the inside and calling it tradition.”

“You are overstepping, aren’t you, you foolish boy?”

“I’m done stepping around you, you stupid hag. You and your fucking clan. You and the fucking Zen’in!” Satoru said, voice thundering now, hands trembling with barely restrained power.

Your mother tilted her head, unimpressed. “Such dramatics. Typical of a Gojo. Pathetic brutes. How could you even be considered of the three, if such barbarism—”

“You threatened him. I don’t damn care if I’m a barbarian to you. I am angry. And I will show it.” he spat, stepping forward, cursing energy spiking around him like a storm about to break. “You think I won’t end you where you stand?”

She lifted her chin, eyes gleaming with disdainful amusement. “You’d try?” she said, smiling coldly. “You arrogant little brat.”

And then, without warning, Gojo Satoru raised his hand. The air thickened, almost like it had found itself warped. Pressure closed in around you like a vice, cursed energy blooming in the room with terrifying speed. A violet shimmer sparked in his palm, flickering like the promise of annihilation.

“Say one more thing to me, to him…..” Satoru said, voice low and shaking with fury. “And I’ll erase you from existence.  I swear to every star that ever shone. I’ll leave nothing behind but ash.”

Your mother laughed in that tone again. The one you had heard multiple times when she was hurting you repeatedly, day in and day out. A sharp, cold sound, the kind meant to humiliate. To cut. It sank teeth into your bones.

“You always were reckless, even when you were a boy playing a god.” she sneered, unfazed. “Do you think your power protects him? That your temper is enough to keep the inevitable at bay?” Her gaze cut to you. “You can’t guard him forever. And when you fall, child, he’ll fall with you. Piece by piece.”

The cursed energy pulsed. Satoru didn’t flinch. If anything, he leaned forward, dangerous and unblinking, like a weapon mid-release. You moved before you thought. Before fear could stop you. You stepped into the path of his power and placed a trembling hand on his chest.

“Satoru, don’t.” you said, voice tight but steady. “Please.”

He didn’t respond. Not at first. His bright blue godly eyes stayed locked on your mother, on the phantom threat she represented. His body was stone, coiled and ready to shatter the room. He was sure to be a bomb waiting for the right time to explode.

“Satoru.” You turned your face up toward him. “I’m asking you to stop.”

Still, no response. So you added, gently, brokenly. “For me. Do it for me.”

That was what reached him for a moment. It was not the plea or begging you had done. It was not even a tender touch you gave him. Just your voice, ever so fragile and low from the suffering you had endured, and yet so warm and familiar.

His mighty, godly hand trembled once. The cursed energy flickered violently, then sputtered out like a dying star. He let out a ragged breath as his arm dropped, but the fury in his bright blue eyes hadn’t vanished.

“If she ever lays a hand on you again…” he said, voice taut with barely restrained rage. “If she so much as looks at you wrong—”

“I know, I know.” you whispered.

You turned, facing your mother again. Still standing. Still calm. Always so calm. A queen surveying pawns, a vicious lioness looking down on her prey. You were terrified of her. Yet you had enough of this. You didn’t want this today. Your voice had stuttered before but this time, your voice didn’t tremble.

“Leave.”

Her brow arched, mildly amused. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself, mother. It is your lord’s wish.” you said. “We’ll talk later. Not now.”

A pause. Then a curl of her lip. A flick of her eyes over Satoru and the lingering aftershock of his power. And she turned. Without a word, she walked away. The door shut behind her with an audible finality. 

And just like that, your knees gave way. Gojo Satoru caught you before you hit the floor, arms strong, cradling you like something precious. His warm hands trembled still, but they steadied you completely.

“I’m sorry, for what I nearly did.” he murmured, barely audible. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You nodded against him. You just focused on what you could do right now. You let yourself catch up with your breathing. One after the other, all you could think about was just breathing. Because you knew it in your heart that he hadn’t scared you. Not really. She had. And she likely always will.

“You shouldn’t have had to do that.” he whispered. “Any of this.”

You leaned into him, letting the quiet hold you both for a moment. “I know.”

Silence pierces through the moment as he holds you close. He waited for a moment, for you to catch yourself, for you to feel a little bit better before he found himself loosening his grip. He looks at you and purses his lips into a flat line.

“You really did it, huh?” Satoru��s voice was low, rough, with an edge that made your stomach churn. “You really… agreed to it?”

You swallowed hard, unable to meet his eyes. You turned away, pacing to the nearest window, the storm outside matching the turbulence inside your mind. “It’s done, Satoru. It’s what I had to do. You know that….Better than anyone else, you know that.”

A heavy silence fell between you both before he spoke again, each word sharper than the last. “I thought we were past this, you and me. I thought, I thought we were beyond all this political shit, all these damn rules.”

You turned to face him then, your eyes filled with unshed tears, your voice cracking with each word. “We are, Satoru. But I don’t have a choice. It’s my duty… to my family, to my clan, to my bloodline. This is what I have to do. My father... he wouldn’t want this, but he would have expected it.”

“No!” Satoru shot back, his voice rising, his frustration evident. “I don’t give a damn about your family’s expectations or your father’s damn legacy. I care about you. You are the one I care about. And this….this is not you.”

“You don’t get it!” You snapped back, a sob escaping your lips as your hands clenched into fists. “I can’t be with you. I’m not worthy of you. You… you’re a god to them. You don’t belong in this world of rules, of bloodlines. I can’t drag you down with me. You don’t deserve the life I’m tied to.” 

Your voice broke as the tears finally began to spill down your cheeks, the weight of everything you had tried to hold back for so long breaking through. Satoru stepped forward, his expression shifting from anger to something softer, but there was still that undeniable frustration in his eyes. He reached for you, his hand almost gentle as it brushed against your arm, but you pulled away, your breath coming in ragged sobs.

“You’re not less because of who you are, what your bloodline is.” he said, his voice almost pleading. “None of that matters to me. You matter. You and me….we’ve built something real, something that’s ours. This… this is just a chain you’re letting bind you. It’s a cage.”

“I’m not good enough for you, Satoru.” you whispered, the weight of your words making your chest ache. “We’re both men. We’re both bound to the same thing, the same expectations. I can't live a lie with you, not like this. We can’t just keep pretending. I’m supposed to be the heir, the leader. I have responsibilities. You don’t understand what it’s like to have to choose between duty and love, between my people and you.”

Satoru’s expression faltered, his eyes flashing with a deep sadness you hadn’t expected. He took a step back, eyes narrowing, clearly at war with himself. “Then what the hell do you want me to do, huh? Just let you go? Pretend like everything we have means nothing? Pretend that I don’t want you with me?”

You shook your head, tears streaming down your face as you took another step away from him, feeling the distance growing like an insurmountable wall. “I’m not asking you to let me go. I’m not asking for anything. But you have to marry someone who isn’t me, Satoru. You have to move on, do what you’re supposed to do, do what they expect you to do. You can’t keep me around and expect that everything will be okay. You deserve better than this. Better than me.”

“No, no. I refuse.” Satoru muttered under his breath, his voice hard with determination. “I don’t care what anyone expects from me. I care about you. And if you think I’m going to walk away just because it’s easier, just because it’s expected, you don’t know me at all.”

The words hit you like a physical blow, and for a moment, you found yourself gasping for breath. But even as your chest tightened, even as the weight of everything pressed down on you, you knew he was right.

“I can’t live like this, Satoru.” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I can’t keep pretending that nothing matters more than this damn clan, more than these rules. I can’t keep lying to you. I’m not strong enough for this. Not for you.”

Satoru’s expression softened, and for the first time in a long while, you saw the vulnerability in his eyes. He took a step closer, his voice almost a whisper now. “And I don’t want you to be strong for me. I want you to be real. I don’t care about your damn title or your bloodline. I care about you. And if you’re telling me that you want me to marry her, then you’re not thinking about what we really mean to each other. You’re thinking about what you’re supposed to do.”

You looked away from him, unable to face the rawness in his gaze, the sincerity that twisted your heart. “I’m not asking for anything from you. I’m just... telling you what’s best. You need to move on. You need to be with someone who doesn’t come with all of this.”

“No,” he said again, this time with more certainty, stepping closer, his hand reaching for yours. “You think I’m just going to let you go? No. I won’t let you go. I love you.”

And that simple confession sent a shudder through you. You swallowed hard, feeling the rush of conflicting emotions course through you. He was everything to you. He was your heart, your soul, the one person you could never imagine living without. But you had already made the decision. Your family, your duty, your legacy. You knew that it all had to come first.

“I can’t…” you whispered, your heart shattering. “I can’t have both. I can’t have you and the clan. You don’t understand. This is too much.”

“I understand more than you think, about all of this.” Satoru replied, his hand gently cupping your face. “But I’ll be damned if I let you destroy yourself over this. I’ll fight for you. I’ll fight for us.”

And just then, in that moment, as your heart broke over the idea of losing him, you knew. No matter how much you tried to convince yourself, no matter how many walls you put up between you, he would always be your greatest fight. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough

The words trembled on your lips, each one a plea, each one a desperate cry for relief. You had never imagined yourself here just standing before him, breaking apart at the seams, pleading for him to leave you. But in the depths of your soul, you knew that what you were asking him to do wasn’t just for him. It was for you too.

You looked at him, your heart shattering with every breath you took, with every tear that fell. “Satoru, please… make it easier on me. Please…” 

“[name], don’t—”

You couldn’t bear the weight of his gaze, the way his eyes softened with a love you didn’t deserve. You turned your face away, closing your eyes as the tears spilled freely. "I can’t do this. I can’t keep pretending I’m not tearing us both apart."

His silence was almost more painful than his words had been. And you hated it more than anything. You could feel him there, standing close enough to touch, but the distance between your hearts had never felt wider.

"Please…." you whispered again, choking on the word, your chest tight with the weight of your own guilt. "Please… let me marry the bride they arranged for me….and you, you should marry whom they give to you.”

“You can’t make me.” He shakes his head. “I’m going to fight this. I am not….I am not going to allow this. You know this….”

“Make it easier on me. I can’t stand this. I can’t live with myself knowing I’m doing this to you. I can’t live with the fact that I’m choosing duty over love. I’m weak. I don’t deserve you. I... I can’t be the person you need."

His expression was unreadable, a storm of emotions brewing in his eyes, but he didn’t speak. You could feel the air thickening, your heart hammering in your chest as you dropped your gaze to the floor, unable to face him.

“I’m asking you to make it hurt less, Satoru.” you continued, your voice barely above a whisper, like a prayer to the universe that could never be answered. “I’m begging you. Marry her. Do what’s expected of you. And please, please let me stop hurting you. Let me stop hurting myself. It’ll be easier for both of us if you just… let go. Let go of me.”

The silence that followed felt like it would suffocate you. Your chest was tight, your body trembling with the aftermath of your confession. The ache inside you was unbearable. You could feel it blossoming more and more within you. 

Your heart screamed for him, screamed to take it all back, to tell him that you could be with him, that you wanted to be with him. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t do that to him, not when your responsibilities felt like chains around your very soul.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Satoru moved. He didn’t speak at first. Rather, he simply stepped forward, reaching for your face, lifting your chin gently with his fingers. His touch was a tender contrast to the storm that raged inside both of you.

“Don’t you dare ask me to make it easier on you.” he said, his voice soft but firm. “You think this is easy for me? You think I want to marry her? That I want to see you marry some woman you don’t fucking love? You think I want to let you go?”

You swallowed hard, but the tears came faster. “Please, Satoru. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep hurting you, hurting us.”

He shook his head slowly, almost in disbelief, as if he couldn’t comprehend what you were asking. “You think I’m going to walk away because it’s easier? You think that’s what this is about? It’s not about what’s easy. It’s about what’s real. What’s real is us, what we have together. You think I can just forget that? You think I can just let you go?”

You closed your eyes, unable to stop the sob that broke free. "I want you to. I need you to, Satoru. It hurts too much. You deserve so much more than this. Than me. I can’t give you what you deserve. I can’t ask you to live in the shadow of a life I can’t give you."

He wiped away the tear that had fallen from your cheek, his hand lingering there, his touch a balm to the raw pain inside you. “You think you’re not good enough for me? You think you can’t give me what I deserve?”

You nodded, unable to stop the sobs that wracked your body. “Yes. I can’t. You deserve someone who doesn’t make you choose, someone who doesn’t have to tear themselves apart just to be with you.”

Satoru’s eyes softened, his voice barely above a whisper now, raw with emotion. “You’re wrong, and you know that.” he said, his words sinking deep into your heart. “You’re everything I want. You are what I deserve. Not her. You."

But you couldn’t hear it. You didn’t want to hear it. You couldn’t let yourself believe it. Not one bit. Everything in you, it was all too much. The guilt was too much, the pressure from your family and your clan too heavy. You had to let him go. You had to.

“I can’t keep doing this.” you whispered, the words breaking with the weight of your decision. “Please, Satoru. For both of us. Move on. Make it easier for me.”

His hands trembled as he cupped your face, leaning in closer, his forehead resting against yours. “You don’t get it, do you?” His voice was raw, his eyes filled with pain. “I can’t let you go. I won’t. I’ll never let you go. Not for this damn clan, not for anyone. You are my choice, and nothing will change that.”

You closed your eyes again, the weight of his words making it even harder to breathe, harder to live with the pain you had caused. “I don’t want to hurt you anymore.” you whispered, your voice shaking. “I don’t want to hurt anymore.”

He pressed his lips to your forehead gently, holding you there for a moment as the weight of everything between you settled in. “You’re not only hurting me….” he murmured. “You’re hurting yourself. And I’m not going to let you do that. I won’t let you go.”

But even as he said that, you knew that your heart had already made its own sacrifice. You couldn’t be the man he needed, couldn’t be the one to give him a future without this pain. And yet, here he was, refusing to let go. 

He was fighting for you, fighting for what you had,  with everything in him. And all you could do was beg him to make it easier, to save both of you from the destruction of love caught in the crossfire of duty.

The silence that followed was deafening, filled only with the sound of your breath, his breath. It was intertwined but unable to bridge the distance between what was right and what your heart truly desired. And even though your heart was shattering, you couldn’t help but wish that he could somehow make it all go away.

The weight of his words pressed heavily against your chest, and as much as you wanted to drown in them, to let them wash over you, you couldn’t. The reality of what you had to do clawed at your mind, suffocating you. You weren’t strong enough to be with him. You weren’t brave enough to defy everything for the sake of love.

Satoru’s fingers trembled against your skin as he held you, his touch gentle but desperate. “You’re not going to push me away, I refuse to let you.” he said again, his voice growing more intense, more raw. “You can’t just tell me to walk away. I won’t. Not like this.”

His words were like a lifeline. It was desperately thrown, grasped at, and twisted. They felt like a promise, but at the same time, they felt like a prison, locking you both into a future that would tear you apart.

“I’m asking you to, Satoru.” you whispered through the crack in your voice. “I’m asking you to let me go.” Your breath hitched as another tear slid down your cheek. “Please… you don’t understand. I’m not who you think I am. I’m not strong enough. I’m not... worthy of you. I can’t keep doing this, being this person. I can’t keep living in this lie that I have a choice.”

Satoru’s hand moved from your face to your shoulders, pulling you into him, his chest pressing against yours, the warmth of his body a stark contrast to the cold, jagged ache in your heart. He looked at you, almost begging you. This god was pulling you close, holding you and begging you.

“You’re everything to me.” he said, his voice breaking, something painful and broken slipping through the cracks of his usual bravado. “I don’t care what they say, or what the clan says, or how much you hate yourself for it. You think I’m just going to let you go? Just like that? You think I’m going to sit here while you break yourself trying to do the right thing?”

The crack in his voice, the pain in it, it all had done its job. It had pierced through you, and your own heart screamed, even as you tried to ignore it. You couldn’t be the reason he was suffering. You couldn’t bear it.

“I’m sorry, Satoru.” you whispered, shaking your head as if the words could somehow undo the damage. “I can’t be the reason you lose everything. I can’t be the reason you’re dragged into my mess. I know what you want. I know what I want. But I can’t have both. I can’t keep you.” 

Your voice broke with the weight of the words, and you stepped back, your heart shattering as you forced yourself to break the connection. Satoru’s bright blue eyes flashed with hurt. Genuine, raw hurt. And for the first time, you saw something in him that you had never seen before: vulnerability.

“No, no.” he breathed, taking a step forward, grabbing your wrist before you could get any further. “No. Don’t do that. Don’t try to protect me from your love. You think this is a mess? You think it’s a mistake that you’re here, that we’re here together? You think you can just tell me to walk away and it’ll be better for me?” 

Tears were spilling from your eyes. “Satoru, please—”

His grip tightened on your wrist, his voice low, pleading. “I’m already in this with you. And I don’t want anyone else. I can’t have anyone else. Don’t you get it?”

The finality of his words hit you harder than anything else. This wasn’t just about the clan, or duty. It was about him. It was about the fact that he had made his choice, had chosen you, even as you stood on the edge of losing everything. 

You wanted to reach out and pull him close, to let him take the burden of all your choices, but you couldn’t. You wouldn’t. Because you knew the cost. Satoru’s eyes were searching yours, but you couldn’t bear to meet them. 

“You can’t love me like this.” you said, your voice trembling. “I can’t let you love me like this. I’m ruining you, Satoru. I’m ruining us. I won’t be the one to break your heart in the end. You’ll move on. You’ll find someone who isn’t so broken.”

His hand on your wrist trembled. “You think I’m going to forget this?” he asked, his voice fierce. “You think I’m going to walk away from the one person who’s ever made me feel alive? You think I’ll ever find someone who loves me the way you do? Who gets me the way you do?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words died in your throat. You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know how to fix this. You just wanted to push him away, to make him see that this wasn’t love, that it was a tragic mistake that could never survive.

But his hands were on you again, pulling you toward him, and before you could stop him, his lips were on yours, desperate and hungry, like he was trying to steal away the last bit of sanity you had left. The kiss was rough, but there was something beneath it.

There was something raw, something vulnerable that made your chest tighten with a kind of longing you couldn’t afford. When he pulled back, he looked at you like he was waiting for something. 

Just waiting for you to break, to give in, to say that you couldn’t do this anymore. And you almost did. But instead, the words that left your mouth were quiet, broken. Instead, you were a foolish little boy who couldn’t do it anymore. 

“I’m not worthy of you.” You repeated the same words, but this time they held no strength, only resignation. “I’m not the person you need. And I never will be. I can’t be what you deserve, Satoru.”

The dense air between you felt like it was ripping apart, tearing at the seams. His calloused hands dropped from your shoulders, falling to his sides, and for a moment, there was nothing but silence.

Then, softly, almost as if he was speaking to himself, Satoru whispered, “Then what am I supposed to do, huh? What am I supposed to do if the one person I want is too afraid to let me love them?”

Your breath caught in your throat. You wanted to scream at him that you loved him too, that you needed him more than anything. But you couldn’t. Not when the price was your soul, and not when the consequences were too great.

The room had suddenly felt too small, too suffocating. His presence, once comforting, now felt like a weight you couldn’t bear. And for the first time, you realized that you were both drowning in something neither of you could escape.

Gojo Satoru stood there, a storm in his eyes, and for the first time in years, you didn’t know what was coming next. You didn’t know if you could survive this. You didn’t know if either of you could. And that thought, that thought made the silence between you both feel like the end of everything.

YOU FELT LIKE YOU WERE GOING TO BE SICK. The day of your wedding arrived like a storm you could see coming, but were powerless to stop. The ceremony was grand, as was expected of your family, with all the pomp and tradition that came with it. 

Every detail was meticulously planned, the rich fabrics of your ceremonial robes brushing against the polished floors, the scent of incense filling the air as the elders murmured their blessings. You stood at the altar, a perfect image of duty, a figure dressed in expectations, but inside, you were nothing more than a shattered soul.

Your wife stood beside you, composed, beautiful, poised in the way society had conditioned her to be. She was the perfect picture of grace, but her eyes, those eyes. They spoke of something else. There was a quiet understanding between you both. 

She knew. She knew that she was not the one you loved. She was the one you had to marry, not the one you had chosen. You weren’t the man she dreamed of, and she wasn’t the woman you longed for.

You couldn’t look at her without feeling the weight of guilt, without the sting of something like shame curling in your chest. But you had to do this. For your clan. For your father’s legacy. For the future you didn’t want but were expected to build.

And so you did what was expected. You said the vows with an empty heart, your words hollow as they fell from your lips. You took her hand in yours, and as the ceremony concluded, as your new wife was ushered away to a suite in your estate, you followed. You didn’t want to. You didn’t have to want to, but you went because it was your duty.

You couldn’t even remember if she said anything to you during that long walk. Everything was a blur, the only thing in focus being the emptiness that stretched between you both. It was a void neither of you would be able to fill.

That night, when you lay beside her in the dark, the weight of your marriage felt crushing. You weren’t ready for this. You had spent years with Satoru. The many years of laughter, of love, of wanting. 

And now, you lay beside a stranger, a woman who would never know what it was like to be loved by you, to be chosen. You knew that you would never love her. Not in the way she deserved. Not in the way your heart had once beat for someone else.

You cried that night. Quietly, silently, into the pillow where no one could hear you. You cried because you had given everything up. You cried because you couldn’t escape the reality of your own choices. 

You cried because you had let Satoru go, had let your love for him wither away in the name of duty, of family. You cried because you couldn’t even bear to touch the woman beside you, not when the only touch you craved, the only warmth you wanted, was one you couldn’t have.

And she must have known, must have felt the distance between you. You saw it in her eyes, the brief moments of sadness, the fleeting glances that betrayed the hurt she carried too. She knew that you couldn’t love her. She knew, just as you did, that this marriage was nothing more than a carefully constructed lie.

But you did your job. You did everything expected of you. You were the dutiful young master. You were the man your clan needed. And despite the pain that twisted your insides, despite the heartache that gnawed at you every waking moment, you gave her what was required. You were a husband in name, a stranger in everything else.

And when the night turned into morning, when the sun rose over the distant horizon, you both went through the motions. Breakfast. The endless discussions with advisors. The meetings with family. Your wife, with a fragile smile on her face, playing the part she had been assigned.

You could see the hollow ache in her too, the way she pretended everything was fine, the way she played the role of a dutiful wife. But her eyes spoke volumes. You both understood each other in the most painful way possible.

You were trapped in a life you never wanted, and she was stuck in a marriage she never dreamed of. Neither of you were free. Neither of you had a choice. And the worst part was, you didn’t know if it would ever get better. You didn’t know if the emptiness you both felt would ever be filled, or if you would continue to live this lie for the rest of your lives.

The only certainty was that you would never forget Satoru, never forget the love that had been stripped from you, never forget the life you had sacrificed for the sake of a clan that had always demanded more than you could give.

The days following the wedding felt like an endless parade of formalities, each one more suffocating than the last. The weight of your actions pressed on you with every passing hour. Your estate felt empty, even though it was filled with people.

The silence between you and your new wife only grew more profound with each meal, each evening spent in the same room, each moment that passed without the comfort of the one person who had ever truly made you feel alive.

It was early one morning when she approached you, the faint sound of her footsteps on the polished floors cutting through the heavy silence. You were seated at the table, papers in front of you. 

The many bounties of paperwork, duties, responsibilities. It all blurred together. But she stood in the doorway, watching you for a long moment before she spoke, her voice was almost too quiet. You were surprised you even heard it.

“You’re not happy, husband.” she said softly. There was no accusation in her tone. It was just a quiet, resigned observation.

You didn’t look up from your papers, not at first. You couldn’t face her. The reality of your marriage…..was that there was such emptiness of it. And it was too much to bear. You could feel her eyes on you, waiting for an answer. But you didn’t have one.

“I’m doing my duty, wife.” you replied finally, your voice distant. “And you’re doing yours.”

Her presence lingered in the doorway, and for a long moment, neither of you spoke. She could have said something else. She could have asked for more, demanded your attention or your affection, but she didn’t. She just stood there, and the silence between you both felt like the most unbearable thing you had ever endured.

“I don’t want this either. You know that.” she said after a while, her words quiet but firm. “I don’t want to be in a marriage where you don’t love me. At least not in that way. I don’t want to be a reminder of what you can’t have.”

Her admission stung, more than you wanted to admit. It was as if she had peeled away the mask you had both been wearing, the facade of duty that had kept you both standing. She knew, just like you knew. But she was the one brave enough to say it out loud.

“I’m sorry….I….It’s not your fault. I shouldn’t….You don’t deserve this. Not one bit.” you whispered, finally lifting your gaze to meet hers. “You don’t deserve such a man like me as a husband.”

The words felt too small for the weight of everything that had passed between you, too insignificant for the way your chest felt like it was being crushed under the enormity of it all. She shook her head, the ghost of a sad smile on her lips. 

“I don’t want your apologies. I just want you to be happy. If it’s not with me…then so be it. I’m not asking for anything from you, except the truth.”

You opened your mouth to say something, to try to explain the impossible burden you were carrying, the love you had been forced to bury. But before you could speak, the door to your study opened, and your mother walked in.

You found the air in your lungs halted. You could feel her presence occupying the room with the same weight it always carried. She took one look at the two of you, then fixed her gaze on you, her expression unreadable.

“You’re still here?” she asked, her tone sharp. “Don’t you have work to do? The clan is waiting for you.”

You stood up quickly, your hands curling into fists at your sides. Your mother’s words always had the power to make you feel like nothing more than a tool. It was a means to an end. But now, with everything you had just heard from your wife, her coldness stung even more.

“I’ve been working, mother.” you said stiffly, not wanting to reveal just how deeply her words were cutting. “I’ve been doing what’s expected of me. My wife has just visited me.”

“Good…Good morrow, mother.” Your wife says to her, bowing deeply. “I just….I just missed my husband.”

“Good,” she replied curtly, ignoring your wife standing there like a forgotten piece of the puzzle. She didn’t even spare her a glance. “Then keep doing it. It’s your responsibility. It’s time to stop wallowing in self–pity, don’t you think?”

Her words felt like a slap. They were harsh, unfeeling, but they were nothing new. You had spent your whole life being told that your worth wasn’t in your heart or your happiness. It was in what you could provide for your clan, for your bloodline. The promises of happiness had been taken from you long ago, buried beneath duty.

“Yes…..of course.”

“I’ll see you in the council hall.” Your mother says as she turns her back quickly, and leaves the chamber. 

You sighed, lowering your head as you shake your head. “I’m sorry about that, wife. I shall have to talk to her about how she treats you.”

“You do not have to worry about that. You know that.”

For a moment, you think about the years that you had wasted in this cage. Just as much as your own wife. You couldn’t help it. You couldn’t help but trap the two of you here. Like golden birds in the gilded cage. Such a sin, you think. Such a thing for sin, for a husband to make his wife miserable. To make himself miserable.

You sighed as your mind kept returning to one name, one face. Gojo Satoru. The ache for him never faded, not even in the silence of your new life. You couldn’t forget him. Couldn’t forget the love you had buried deep, the love you would never allow yourself to live for again.

But you have done your duty. You had married, you had pledged yourself to your clan. You had done everything expected of you. And yet, even as you stood in the remnants of your broken vows, you couldn’t shake the haunting feeling that you would never be free.

The quiet lingered between you and your wife, even after your mother left, her stern words still hanging heavy in the air. The silence stretched on, suffocating, until you finally spoke, your voice thick with something more fragile than you cared to admit.

"I hope to care for you, wife." you said, turning towards her slowly, each word coming with a weight that seemed to settle deeper into your chest. "I can’t promise you love. Not the way you deserve. But I’ll try. I’ll try to care for you, for what we must be to each other in this... this arrangement."

Her gaze softened, but there was no relief in it. It was no hope, just a quiet understanding that had been born out of necessity, rather than desire. She nodded, her fingers brushing the edge of her sleeve as if searching for comfort in the movement.

"You don’t have to say it, you know." she whispered, her voice barely audible, but somehow cutting through the quiet between you. "I knew when I agreed to this that love wasn’t part of it."

"I just… I don’t want to fail you, wife." you continued, your heart aching at the realization that everything you said felt hollow. The weight of your own words felt too big for the man you had become, too small for what you wanted to give her, even though you didn’t have that to give.

"And I will try. I promise I will." you added softly, though the words felt like a lie even as they left your lips. "I can give you that, at least. I'll care for you... and for our children, if we have them. I'll love them, even if I can't love you the way you need me to."

Her expression shifted, something flickering in her eyes. Perhaps sadness, perhaps resignation. She stepped forward slowly, her voice steady despite the quiet storm that churned behind her words.

"You don’t have to promise that." she said, her gaze never leaving yours. "You don't owe me anything that you can’t give. But... I appreciate that you want to try."

You reached for her hand, a gesture that felt far too intimate, far too personal for the space that had grown between you both. Her hand was warm in yours, and you felt a flicker of something, something like the smallest hope that you could both make this work. It wasn’t love, but it was something. And for now, it had to be enough.

"I’ll be a good husband in every other way, wife." you said, your voice breaking just slightly as you tried to reassure both of you. "I’ll be what I’m supposed to be. But the rest…" you trailed off, shaking your head, as if you could stop the hurt that tightened around your chest. "The rest is just too much to ask of me."

She nodded slowly, no words coming after. It was like the last piece of something fragile had snapped in that moment, the realization that the love you both needed from this marriage wasn’t going to come. If not from you, at least.

"I understand. I had known that the moment you and I wed." she said quietly, the pain in her eyes something you knew you shared. "And I won’t ask for more than that. After all….you are already so good to me.”

But you could see it. The way she had always known that this wasn’t a union of hearts. You were bound by duty, by clan, by the weight of expectations that both of you had been forced to shoulder.

"I’ll be there for you, wife." you added, your voice soft and almost pleading, as though asking for forgiveness before you’d even sinned. "I’ll be what you need me to be. And I’ll be a good father. I’ll try."

Her lips parted, perhaps to say something more, but then the moment stretched out again, pulling at the seams of the fragile truce you had made. You both stood there, lost in what you could never truly have, yet clinging to what had been forced upon you. It wasn’t love—but it was all you could give.

"You’re not alone in this." she said after a pause, her voice softer now, as though trying to comfort both of you in that small, hopeless way. "Neither of us are."

“I know.”

“But one piece of advice, if I may, husband. Do what you must.” she said softly, her voice barely a whisper now, as if she was already preparing herself for the eventual distance between you both. “But don’t forget to live for yourself, even if it’s only a little.”

With those final words, your wife places a kiss upon your cheek. Before long, your wife had turned and left the room, her footsteps echoing in the hall as she disappeared into the distance. And you stood there, alone with the crushing weight of your choices.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak further. Instead, you squeezed her hand gently, as though sealing the pact between you both in that quiet moment. You couldn’t love her, and she knew it. 

You would never be the man she dreamed of, and she would never be the woman you wished for. You did not like women. You knew you hadn’t. But there would be duty. There would be care in you. And perhaps that was all either of you would ever get.

But still, in the quiet of the night, in the hollow of your own heart, you knew that you would never stop thinking of him. Gojo Satoru. Even now, even here, even in this marriage you couldn’t bear. He was the one you had loved, the one you would always love, no matter what paths you were forced to walk.

And in that unspoken truth, you knew that you would never be truly free. That night you dreamt of him, smiling at you with all his heart. And when you woke, all you could do was cry your heart out at the fact that he would never smile at you like that ever again.

When you opened your phone for the first time in years, you found his message.

‘I miss you. More than anything I miss you. But fuck, I hate you. I hate you. And I love you. More than anything.”

You sat there, closing the phone and let yourself stare at it for a little while longer.  “I hate myself too, Satoru.” You whispered under your breath. “But I love you. I love you too. More than anything in the world.”

[wendichester]

could u do a story where reader has an established relationship with castiel and it is a little angsty to start cause they're insecure of their body but hes there to just blantantly and flat out reassure the reader cause what he sees is perfect and then its fluffy? tysm i can wait to read !!!!!! <333

°❀⋆. what i see when i look at you,

pairing. castiel x reader ( gn )

wordcount. 773 genre. comfort

warnings. body image insecurity, negative self-talk (challenged and comforted), soft reassurance, established relationship, lots of tenderness

notes. just a psa that you're god damn gorgeous 😙

You don’t mean to flinch.

It’s small—barely there—but Castiel catches it anyway, because he always does. His hand stills where it was tracing lazy circles over your side, his thumb pausing like it’s listening.

“What was that?” he asks softly.

“Nothing,” you lie, too quickly, turning a little so the light doesn’t land where you don’t want it to. The bunker’s lamp casts warm gold, and somehow it makes every perceived flaw feel louder. You tug the blanket up. You can’t help it.

Cas tilts his head. You can feel him looking, but not in the way that burns—more like he’s carefully examining a sigil he wants to protect. “It wasn’t nothing. You looked… hurt.”

You huff a breath, embarrassed heat crawling up your neck. “I’m fine. Just… don’t look, okay?”

Something in his face falls. “At you?”

You close your eyes. “At… parts of me.” You hate how small your voice sounds. “I know I don’t— It’s just… I don’t look like—” You gesture vaguely, frustration and shame tangling. “Like anything worth staring at.”

There’s a beat of silence, thick as honey.

Then, quiet but utterly certain: “You’re wrong.”

You let out an exhausted laugh. “Cas—”

“No,” he says, firmer now, edging closer on the mattress until his knees brush yours under the blanket. “Listen to me.”

His fingers—warm, steady—slip beneath the blanket and find your hand. He doesn’t pull, doesn’t force. Just holds, patient as a sunrise. “You asked me, once, what I see when I look at people. Angels don’t see the way humans do. We see… weight. The weight of choices, of grief, of love. We see the shape of a soul.”

You swallow, eyes stinging. “And mine looks…?”

“Like home,” he says, without a breath of hesitation. “Like the first good thing after a long war.”

Your throat tightens. “That’s not what I see.”

“I know.” He squeezes your hand. “That’s why I’m going to say it again.”

He moves the blanket an inch, then another. His gaze stays on your face, as if asking—may I?—and when you give the smallest nod, he continues, gentle as prayer.

“This,” he murmurs, fingertips brushing along skin you’d rather hide, “is yours. It’s carried you through every wound, every night you didn’t think you could stand. It holds your heart, which is stubborn and kind and… very loud, by the way.” A small smile ghosts across his mouth. “I love it. I love you. Exactly as you are, not as you think you should be.”

You inhale shakily. “Cas…”

He leans in, pressing his forehead to yours. “If I could show you what I see, you would never doubt again. You would never call yourself less. You would understand that every line, every curve, every scar is a history written in survival. And I revere it.”

Tears slip down before you can stop them. He catches one with his thumb, eyes soft. “Do you trust me?” he asks.

You nod.

“Then let me look,” he says. “Let me stay.”

So you let him. You let him kiss the places you’re sure are unlovable and watch them soften under his mouth. You let him map you like you’re a constellation he’s been waiting eons to memorize. He doesn’t rush. He doesn’t perform. He just… stays, repeating it in small ways:

“Beautiful.” “Mine.” “Thank you for being here.” “Thank you for being you.”

Somewhere in the quiet, your breathing steadies. Your shoulders loosen. The blanket slips away and doesn’t feel like a loss.

You curl into him afterward, tucked under his chin. He wraps you up like he’s guarding treasure, like anyone might come knocking to take you away. The lamp hums. The bunker is safe. His grace is a soft thrum against your skin, a lullaby you never knew you needed.

“I’m trying,” you whisper into his chest.

“I know,” Cas says. “And I’ll keep reminding you until it’s easier. Until it’s a thought you reach for on your own.”

You huff a tiny laugh. “Angel of relentless reassurance.”

“Angel of truth,” he corrects, pressing a kiss to your hair. “And the truth is: you are perfect to me.”

You let the words sink in, let them warm the places you’ve iced over. Maybe you’ll need to hear it again tomorrow. Maybe you’ll need to be held like this a thousand times.

Cas will be there. Blatant, unwavering, stubborn as ever.

You breathe, slow and deep, and finally—finally—believe him for a moment.

It’s enough to sleep. It’s enough to start.

And he’s still there when you wake, eyes soft, smile small and real, as if to say: See? Still perfect. Still yours.

ꔛ. all works ; writing guidelines ; support my work .ᐟ

[the-unofficial-village-idiot]

I mustn't try to form meaningful connections. Forming meaningful connections is the both-of-us-killer

[ifyoucandaniel]

exactly one person asked and i’ve been DYING to make this, so here are all of my favorite long batman fanfics in general and for new readers @twisted-tales-told :)

cards on the table by @wesslan ! 69k, completed. this is one of my all time favorite fanfictions, it’s so funny and tim is a mastermind genius and a little liar <3 he basically pretends to be a fortune teller and gives scarily good predictions and advice by stalking the upper class and eventually gets involved with the batfam and has to maintain his lies while dealing with his issues :) 10/10, very found family, good angst, so much lying

Dark Matter by @mysterycyclone , 221k, ongoing. this is a batman fanfic rec, of course my bbg dark matter is going to be here <3 this is a MCUxDCU crossover where after infinity war (spoilers for that if you haven’t seen it!) peter parker gets sent to the DCU dimension with part of the soul stone and basically is haunted by the ghosts of the avengers while trying to survive in gotham and get back to his dimension. this is so well written i’ve read it at least three times, it’s still ongoing but trust me it is SO GOOD. i can’t properly describe it, but if you like spider-man and you are interested in batman, you’ll love.

Red is the Color of Sinners by @bluelotuswrites , series, 120k, ongoing, M. i want you to look me in my eyes when i tell you this is my favorite series on ao3. it is set after under the red hood and daredevil 3 where jason and matt meet in a church after jason loses his ability to speak following the events of UTRH. they keep running into each other both as matt and daredevil and eventually jason begins helping matt out with injuries and tech. it’s not finished yet, but there is something so compelling about their dynamic in this series as well as jason’s overall character and how he is portrayed. i’m a sucker for mute jason after UTRH and this series does so well giving him a fresh start and a place away from gotham to heal and build relationships. i cannot recommend enough.

buy back the secrets by @vinelark , 71k, ongoing, T. THIS!!! oh my god, so this is a timkon fic where kon still doesn’t know tim’s civilian identity, but whenever he’s in trouble tim calls for superboy which leads to them meeting without kon knowing. shenanigans ensure when kon starts spending more time with tim! it’s still ongoing but the author is currently working on the next part and it is so so worth the wait. chapter 4 ends on a cliffhanger though so be warned :))

Sales People Know (listening is the most important part) by Mayhem10, 77k, completed, T. this has the coolest urban magical realism ever. tim basically runs this magic shop that shows up places and people who need something find it in his shop :) it’s kinda a slow burn found family fic with magic themes and a smidge of angst!

Retrograde Motion by Lysical, 112k, completed, T. this is best de-aged kid fic ever. jason gets turned into a 7 year old and basically the outlaws, artemis and biz, join forces with the batfam to take care of him. but trust me when i say this is worth your time, it might sound tropey but in the best way possible!! and jason’s relationship with artemis is sooo important to me in this!

Hand in Unloveable Hand (a chokehold) by britishparty, 54k, completed, M. this is one of the best psychological torture/grooming fics i’ve ever read. pretty much what if while our taking photos of batman and robin, little tim gets kidnapped and black mask gets his hands on him and decides he’s the perfect size for a protege. years of psychological abuse and insane mind games ensue. also tim is a Badass™️

If He Had Come by bronwe_iris, 45k, completed, T. so i’m a little freak and i love the angst of arkham knight jason, but more specifically the aus where bruce saves jason before he becomes the arkham knight! this is an au where bruce finds jason and saves him from the joker after 9 months of torture and brings him home. focuses on his healing mentally and physically and rebuilding his relationship with his family

Banshee in a Well by liverobinreaction (bugbee), 43k, completed, T. veeeery good angst. basically what if tim couldn’t die? 43k of tim drake whump where he just dies a bajillion times and eventually his family notices <3

The Birds: Hatching a Family by Oceanera12, 81k, completed, T. this is like “what if the batkids weren’t adopted by bruce, but instead they were all foster siblings who can’t seem to stay out of gotham at night and batman happens to find them and decides obviously he can’t leave these kids to their own business, he has to stick his nose in it” and there’s some angst and heaps of found family

The Hellblazer’s Apprentice by @bluelotuswrites, 29k, ongoing, M. what can i say, im a simple woman, i love to see jason with literally any older male mentor :) basically in UTRH what if he took up an apprenticeship under constantine to learn magic to piss off batman! so good, i really love constantine so seeing him and jason interact in a long fic is so good. also ALL BLADES JASON TODD SAVE ME… ALL BLADES JASON TODD-

something in the static by bonerot19, 101k, ongoing series with three main completed works, T. this is a jason centric series where jason still lives in crime alley with his mom and dad and never stole the batmobile tires. it follows his life in crime alley with an addict mom and an abusive dad and one night when his dad is whaling on him nightwing finds him and the bats just can’t seem to leave him alone after that. steph is his neighbor and best friend also and their relationship is so good. this is a “what if jason took a different way home to the wayne’s” fic series and i love it so much <3

catch the asteroids that come your way by ThePackWantsTheD, 54k, completed, T. i don’t read a lot of ships in the batman fandom i’m sorry, but this kyle/jason one is sooo lovely. basically the two of them growing up together and falling in love and then dealing with the aftermath of A Death in the Family and finding each other again :) really sweet and nice!

hope you find something you like! i realized the majority of these are tim or jason centric, and i love them all dearly, but if anyone has any recs for long fics focusing on any of the other batkids lmk! and any other recs in general, i am a fiend for new fics

[spittinwatches]

walk with me.. . .

[twilight-deviant]

[qiqi-guai-guai]

i love failmarriages and i love divorce and i love the souring of love and i love the inadequacy of love!!! when their ideals are irreconcilable... when the power dynamics go loop-the-loop... when the weight of all their history is suffocating them... when all they do together is press on secret bruises, when only they know where to press... when they watch each other get further and further away from who they fell in love with... when they watch each other change and wonder if that's really who they've been all along... when they're all they have because they're all they saw and now there's nowhere to go... even when there's no love, but there was intimacy, and that's just as bad....... hate can only truly from closeness!!!!!!!

[cookie-nom-nom]

I AM MEOWING

THERE IS NO SIGN OF BANS

YOU ARE BOOPING DOWN WITH ME

PAW IN UNLOVEABLE PAW

I HOPE WE BOOP

I HOPE WE BOTH BOOP

[aroaessidhe]

2023 reads

The Spider And Her Demons

YA Australian urban fantasy/horror

about a Malaysian-Chinese girl who’s half spider-demon, just trying to keep her head down and survive high school

when she accidentally kills and eats a man in front of the most popular girl at school, they strike up a strange friendship and she starts to learn more about herself and the supernatural world

aroacespec/sapphic ish

[spacebugarts]

Have I mentioned how much I love bugs lately? Free serotonin machines fr

[vaguely-concerned]

they have a relationship indescribable in any language but which definitely involves some 'recognition of the self through the other (derogatory)' that neither of them wants to look at too hard. I do so love the way rook takes his hand in that last one looks almost romantic. *falls to one knee* fen'harel the dread wolf solas chuckles etc.... would you please do me the honour of going straight to hell

(I do think a lot about how rook as a character is the product of two mentors (solas only counts as one even though he used a sockpuppet account lol), and how that interacts with the meaning of what they choose to do at the end. it truly is the cole custody battle round two going on in here. the deliciousness of having rook say'varric taught me well' while pulling such an OBVIOUSLY solas coded move... we love a mixed and murky and hard to define truth. we love from a certain point of view-ing something so emotionally fraught. is it well now he's dead and you killed the part of me that would have saved you with him, the metaphorical mirror of him literally placing the knife that will end him in your hands. is it old run of the mill hypocrisy. is it just the grief enduring, the personal loyalty remaining (as, indeed, solas' did for mythal for a long time). is it 'maybe you should have thought it through a bit more before you decided to reshape me so in your own image (asshole) remember what you did when someone important to you was killed?'. is it the understandable non-gambler's choice considering what's happened literally every other time someone has tried to talk solas down that rook has witnessed and the stakes of this game is: everything, it's time to stop playing around and break out the marked up deck this is not the hour to deal fairly with someone who isn't going to do so with you. it's genuinely open to interpretation and how triumphant vs. depressing you want to consider it to really be, and I think that's great to have as an option beside the more straightforwardly cathartic redeem or even the ('good'/high readiness version of the) fight ending)

[hobipowers]

.

[mephopheles]

was waiting abit to post this out of shyness but I wanted to show this beautiful art of my little au guy that I commissioned from @qwiopty !!!! Kakajsisjs im still abnormal about it and I wanna show it off here because jwjsjjsj look at him augh I am Agressivly headpatting him really am so thankful!

[coldjustness]

the small heartbreak I feel when I see people refusing to reblog from me….

[cowboysmp3]

not to mitski-ify everything but I’m Your Man is horrifically Blackbeard and Izzy coded

like ur kidding right

[goalie-apologist]

The entire NL West for some reason rn