ryuseislilobsession

[ryuseislilobsession]

"Daddy! Why are you sad?"

Satoru chuckles, ruffling his daughter's hair affectionately, scooping her up in his large hands and situating her on his lap.

"Aw...is my pumpkin concerned for Daddy? Don't worry kiddo, Daddy isn't sad- just..." he paused, thinking of the right word. "tired."

Your daughter pouts, cerulean eyes peering up to gaze into her father's. "You should buy a pony Daddy! That way you won't be sad!"

Satoru laughs in surprise. "A pony, huh? Maybe I will...but I don't think Mommy will let us."

"Mommy won't let you do what?" you say, coming up from behind the couch and lean over the back to see the situation, eyebrow raised in suspicion. "Satoru, what propaganda are you teaching our child?"

"Daddy said you wouldn't let us buy a pony!" your daughter chirps and you stare at him incredulously.

"Absolutely not."

"But Mommy!"

"No!"

"C'mon sweetheart-"

"Stop enabling her!"

If he could, Satoru would have that memory tattooed to the inside of his brain, memorizing the way you laughed, your daughter's giddy face, the fuzzy domestic feeling in his heart, everything. If he could, Satoru would do anything in his power to feel that feeling again.

But he couldn't.

Because yet again, Satoru Gojo experiences one of the feelings he thought he left behind, all those years ago.

Grief.

It was during the war, when Satoru comes home late from a battle, only to find you lying on the cold tiled floor, in a pool of your own blood. In your arms, your 6 year old daughter, unconscious with a serious head injury.

A curse had come into your home in the middle on the night, and attacked you while he was gone. And Satoru wasn't there to protect you.

You didn't survive the encounter. You had lost far too much blood for the doctors to nurse you back to health, and your body was damaged beyond repair.

Your daughter was spared however. She was able to recover with extensive treatment, but her head injury gave her severe and permanent amnesia. She had no idea who you or Satoru were.

His own daughter- just…gone.

After that, Satoru just...broke.

He quit his teaching job at Jujutsu High, and left jujutsu society without a trace.

Satoru wasn't a stranger to hiding his true emotions, always masking any negative feelings behind the mask he'd worn for so many years.

But when you died, Satoru had died with you.

The Satoru Gojo of the physical world was nothing more than a hollow body with an empty heart, pain caused it to wither into nothing, as if it was never there.

"Why are you sad Daddy?" He could almost hear her say.

He's tired, he would say, like always.

But never why.

He was tired of watching his daughter grow up from afar, tired of not living a life with you at his side. Tired of waking up in a cold bed, in an empty house, far too big and lonely for him to live in by himself. Tired of being alone at night, consumed by nightmares and the suffocating feeling of grief and depression that overwhelmed him so much it hurt to breathe. Tired of not waking up to your kisses, your love, tired of not waking up to you, falling asleep with you, tired of not being with you.

How could he live without you? You the love of his life, his sweetheart, his everything. How could he live without you by his side, without the life you had made together? How could he watch his daughter grow up without you there to grow old with by his side?

The truth is- he couldn’t.

And Satoru knew that.

Soon, he promised himself. Soon, he'd be able to reunite with you again.

"You told me to buy a pony but all I wanted was you..." - Hidden in the Sand, Tally Hall.

A/N: sad sad sad reposts...

[ryuseislilobsession]

Nagi had gotten too big for his boots, too prideful.

He started to neglect your relationship, focusing only on football. He was sure that you would stay with him - I mean, why would you have a problem with that? You’d understand, right?

So when you break up with him, he’s slightly surprised but just replies to your long paragraph with an “ok.”.

A few days later, he can’t sleep. He can’t eat, he can’t play his games or even look at a football without thinking about you. His stomach hurts - he feels revolted. His chest hurts - his heart is aching. He finds himself crying himself to sleep in your absence, remembering how you two would cuddle in his bed sometimes.

Two weeks later, he can’t take it anymore - he needs to see you. He makes his way over to your place, flowers and gifts in hand. He even wore a suit to show you he cares. He knocks on your door once, twice, three times. Nothing. He sees that your lights are on. Maybe you’re busy?

He stands there, waiting for you to open the door. He keeps knocking, then hears a door slam shut - you must’ve gone to your bedroom. He starts calling out to you, hoping you’ll hear him.

After a few hours, he’s getting weird looks from people passing by, but he doesn’t care. He keeps knocking periodically, hoping that you’ll answer.

It’s now after midnight, he’s still here. He knows you’re inside. He feels horrible and starts to cry. He’s begging for you to let him in. You hear him shouting your name pitifully. He’s starting to get frustrated now and starts banging on your door, demanding that you let him in.

He sees your lights turn off and lets out a sorrowful huff before slowly sitting down, his back against your door.

The next morning as you’re leaving your house, you look down to see Nagi sleeping in front of your door. You had almost stepped on him.

“Nagi what the hell…” You mutter, infuriated yet flattered that he had shown this much commitment.

He wakes up abruptly, rubbing his red, swollen eyes sleepily.

His eyes glimmer with unshed tears as he speak, “I’m sorry, please take me back. I need you.”

- canon nagi

- last chapter was such an aura loss for my nonchalant king but it was cute

[ryuseislilobsession]

trying to figure out what emotional response he’s supposed to have to seeing nagi again??? is this not bpd splitting like???? hello???

[ryuseislilobsession]

help is nagi rly camping outside the blue lock facility this can’t be real i’m so sad AGAHSHAJKS 😭😭😭😭

[ryuseislilobsession]

hello my nagi slandering queen and congratulations on 300 followers 🤩 i would like to request a smau for nagi himself because NOBODY makes a good smau for a character the way someone who hates them does 😏☝🏻 i’m bad at thinking of prompts though sorry 😭 umm maybe something related to either how he and reader meet or get together?? 😛 if you have a diff vision in mind though i will trust you completely 🫡

CON ARTIST IS A PART TIMER? nagi seishiro

you scam the mikage heir out of 5000 and now a bug eyed incel is asking you to buy him vbucks...

MIRA AHHHHHH as a d1 nagi hater i hope i was able to do him justice for u 🥹

this smau is part of my 300 event :)

[ryuseislilobsession]

Meant to say ‘baby’

Rin x fem!reader, sae x fem!reader

a/n: first fic, I hope u like it. Pls request..I will write anything!(jjk,mha,bllk)

Word count: 2849

warnings: angst, alcohol use, cheating/infidelity(reader), miscommunication, drunken confessions, toxic relationships.

The fight started just like all your other ones did. 

It went the same way

“You always choose soccer over me, Rin! I’m fucking tired of it!”

“It’s not like that!”

“It’s always like that!”

But this time things would end differently.

This fight was a little different, he had come home all angered and fussed about something. You asked if he was okay, a simple question but that seemed even too much for him. Because the moment those 3 words left your lips, it was like a whirlpool formed. He immediately started yelling things like, “Does it fucking look like I’m okay?!” You could barely remember the rest but they were practically the same shit.

You felt it was partially your fault since you did.m notice that the frustration and anger on his face was different to other days, but that still didn’t give him the right to treat you like shit!

So you obviously defended yourself, you both continued spewing random incoherent insults to each other before no words would leave Rins mouth, fist clenched, brows tightened. He shut his mouth, glared at you and stormed out of the house.

Fucking bitch. 

Oh the way you both loved and hated that man, but what good would come from being both burned and distinguished?

You sat in silence, your face feeling sticky from your tears, chest tight, fingers curled into fists. 

Then you heard that familiar annoying ringtone coming from your phone.

You didn’t bother looking at who was calling before declining. But again…

Ring!

For fucks sake..

You look at whose calling—and speak of the devil, it was your bf. Soon to be ex. 

You answer with a cold mutter, “what?”

“.M…so sorrry…” his voice slurred, thick with alcohol. “I luh you…m’sorry, okay? C’mon…please pick me up, baby…”

His words are slow. Drunk. Sloppy.

“Maybe you should go get a fucking soccer ball to pick you up—since it’s so much more important!” You hang up on him. It feels good.

Your about to lay your head down on the couch.

Ring!

You glare at your phone. The same name lights up the screen. You answer again, irritated.

“I’m not gonna fuc—”

“B-baby… please… ‘m so—so sorry… I love y’so much… won’ pick soccer again… promishe… pleaaase I—”

You tune him out. His words run together like spilled liquor, thick and meaningless. You don’t care to hear his empty promises.

“Just shut up and share your location.”

You hear a relieved exhale from the other end.

“Th-thank you, baby… I lo—”

You hang up.

You grab your keys—still fuming—and storm out the door.

You can’t even believe you’re actually doing this.

When your gps says your at the location, your eyes scan your surroundings and you see him slouched against a wall outside some bar, dazed, eyes red. 

You honk your horn grabbing his attention, his eyes light up for a second before sadness falls over them at the pissed look on your face.

He walks over and stumbles into the passenger seat. Barely buckled. You start driving, eyes on the road, jaw clenched.

He starts murmuring things under his breath, “so sorry, didn’t mean to be so inconsiderate.”

“Yeah?”

“I was wrong.”

“Heard that one before.”

“Was just scared..”

“Of what?” You start properly paying attention to what he’s saying.

“Was scared…if I wasn’t the best. You’d leave me..”

Your breathing stills, “but that didnt give you any right to talk to me like how you did today.” Your eyes start tearing up remembering all his harsh words.

“I know, thought saying things would make you understand how I felt. Dumb move…I’m a dumbass” he murmurs, you even hear small sniffling. 

“Yeah you really are.” You chuckle. “You’ll give me another chance..?” He asks, voice sounding hopeful. “Sure I guess.” You reply. You hear a sigh of relief before he responds.

“Thanks…love you so much, love you so much, Bailey.”

And just like that everything shattered. The breath gets punched from your lungs.

Your vision blurs with tears, but your hands stay steady on the wheel. You don’t speak. You just change course, to his older brothers house. Because no fucking way was a cheater going to be sleeping in the same roof as you.

You should’ve of known.

Maybe I’m the dumbass.

—————————————————————-

Your banging ont he door before you can even think. When it opens, Saes standing there in sweatpants, shirtless, clearly woken up. He takes one single look at Rin slumped over your shoulder—and your tear streaked face—and steps aside.

You sniffle a bit, “where should I-“ 

“I got him,” sae says, scooping Rin off you like he weighed nothing. 

Your left frozen in the Hallway.

He disappears into the guest room and comes back, finds you curled up on the couch, face buried in your hands. He walks over not knowing what to do, he sits next to you and awkwardly places a hand on your shoulder. “…what happened?”

You make eye contact with him, his eyes soften. And you break. Everything pours out. The fights. The way you’ve felt so small, so unimportant. Second to a literal game. The bar call. And finally—Bailey.

Sae sits beside you taking in everything you’ve just said to him, jaw tight. You can’t read the expression he has on his face. “Idiot,” he mutters. “He doesn’t know what he had.”

You look up at him and make eye contact once more, but this time it felt different… “had?”

His gaze darkens, “yeah, had.”

His hand reach up to your face, holding your cheeks and pulling you into a kiss. You find yourself melting into him, your body molding against his firm, muscular frame as you return the kiss with equal fervor. You felt a smirk crawl up into his lips and he pushed you firm but gently into your back, you could feel the cushions of the couch making it even feel more real. Was he going to take you? His brothers gf? While he was just a room away?

“Don’t think about him.” his eyes were locked on yours, with so much fondness and warmth. Like you’ve done this before. “Just me, only me.”

He leans down, trailing open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone and the delicate slope of your neck. His lips felt so familiar it almost hurt..

His hands moved down to roam over your curves, caressing and squishing them like he was trying to ingrave them into his head. 

He tugs at the hem of your shirt, breaking the kiss just long enough to yank it over your head and toss it carelessly aside. His gaze drops—and stays. You didn’t wear a bra. He huffs a quiet breath, almost a laugh. “Like you were expecting this..”

One hand slides down your stomach, slow, warm, familiar. His fingers dip under your waistband and slip into your panties. You can feel the heat of his touch even through the damp fabric, the heat below your stomach just intensified.

He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your pants and underwear, slowly dragging them down your legs. He takes his time, savoring the reveal of your bare skin inch as if he was unwrapping a Christmas present. Once he has removed the last of your lower garments, he takes a moment to admire your naked form sprawled out beneath him on the couch. He tried engraving the image into his mind. 

You hear his breath catch when he looks at you, really looks at you.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous," he murmurs, his deep voice dripping with lust. 

"Rin didn’t deserve to have you." He leans down, trailing kisses along your inner thigh, his stubble lightly grazing your sensitive skin. You squirm beneath his touch, warmth already pooling heavily in your core. Sae smirks against your thigh as he feels it clenches.

His hands skim back up your body, unhooking your bra with practiced ease. He tosses it aside, revealing your bare breasts to his hungry gaze. He takes a moment to admire your hardened nipples, before leaning down to capture one in his hot mouth. He swirls his tongue around the sensitive bud, sucking and flicking until you're writhing with pleasure. Your fingers curl in the couch cushions as he shifts to the other side, giving it the same slow attention.

At the same time, Sae's hand delves between your thighs, his fingers brushing against your dripping folds. You gasp, hips rolling up toward him. His mouth never leaves your chest.

He groans against your breast as he feels how wet you already are. "So fucking needy," he murmurs, slipping a long finger inside your tight heat. He pumps it slowly, curling it to hit that sensitive spot deep within you. His thumb finds your clit, rubbing tight circles around the swollen nub, drawing out a small moan you couldn’t hold back.

His finger keeps pumping in and out of your dripping core while his mouth lavishes attention on your breasts. He can feel your walls clenching around his digit, your body desperate for more. Sae adds a second finger, stretching you deliciously as he increases the pace of his thrusts. His thumb presses down harder on your clit, rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves in tight, rapid circles.

Your moans grow louder, your back arching off the couch as the pleasure mounts. His fingers plunge deeper, curling to stroke that perfect spot inside you with every thrust. His lips and tongue worship your breasts, sucking and nipping at your nipples until they ache pleasurably. The combination of sensations has your mind going blank, your world narrowing down to the feeling of Sae's touch and the impending release building rapidly within you.

Sae feels your body start to tremble and tense beneath him, knowing you're close. He redoubles his efforts, fingers pumping furiously as he flicks and rolls your clit. His other hand slides down to grip your ass, kneading the soft flesh and tilting your hips up to take his fingers even deeper.

"Come for me," he growls against your breast, his voice rough with desire. "I want to feel you come undone, y/n. Let go." He curls his fingers just right, rubbing that secret spot inside you with unerring precision.

At the same time, he bites down gently on your nipple, sending a jolt of pleasure-pain straight to your core.

You feel your climax crashing over you like a tidal wave.

You cry out, your inner walls clamping down like a vice around Sae's fingers as wave after wave of ecstasy washes through you. Your body convulses, back bowed, as you ride out the intense pleasure coursing through your veins.

Sae continues to stroke you through your orgasm, drawing out your bliss until you collapse back against the couch, boneless and sated. He slowly withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his lips to suck your essence from the digits. "Delicious," he purrs, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction and a hunger yet to be fulfilled. 

He then tugs his sweatpants down, freeing his large, hard cock. It springs up, thick and heavy, the thick shaft pulsing with need. He settles between your thighs, the head of his cock nudging against your sensitive, dripping entrance. He leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth to claim you thoroughly. One hand slides into your hair, gripping it gently as the other grips your hip, holding you in place.

With a swift thrust of his hips, Sae sheaths himself inside you, burying his thick length deep into your tight, wet heat. A guttural groan tears from his throat at the feeling of your walls enveloping him like a glove.

He starts to move, thrusting in and out of you with deep, powerful strokes. The couch creaks beneath you with the force of his movements.

"Fuck, you feel incredible," Sae rasps, his voice strained with pleasure. He angles his hips to hit that perfect spot inside you with every thrust, determined to make you come undone again. His grip on your hair tightens, and he tugs your head back, exposing the column of your throat. Sae latches onto your neck, sucking and biting at the tender skin, marking you as his.

Your moans fill the room, growing louder and more wanton with each thrust of Sae's hips. The pleasure is intense, overwhelming, and you can feel another climax building rapidly. "Yes, just like that," you hear yourself moan, your voice breathy and needy. But the name that falls from your lips next makes Sae still, his eyes flashing with a sudden, intense emotion. 

"Rin..."

Everything stops.

Sae stills, a dark flash in his eyes. His jaw tightens.

His grip on your hip tightens, bordering on painful, and he starts to thrust into you with rougher, harder strokes. He pulls back—then slams into you, rough, unrelenting. “Say my name,” he growls. “Say it again.”

“Sae—”

“Louder.”

He tugs your hair harder, forcing your eyes to meet his. “You’re mine,” he snarls. “Fucking mine.” His hand slides to your throat—not choking, but firm, possessive. The couch shakes with the force of his movements, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room.

You cry out, breath ragged, body helpless beneath him. “I’m yours, Sae—fuck—I’m yours!” 

“Good girl.” His lips brush your ear. “Now scream it.”

"S- Sae!" you cry out, your voice hoarse and ragged from screaming his name. "I'm yours, all yours!" Your nails rake down his back, leaving red welts in their wake as you cling to him desperately. The new angle of his thrusts, the rough handling of your body, sends you even closer to the edge.

His thrusts grow faster, rougher, his thumb back on your clit, pushing you toward the edge again.

Your body starts to convulse, your walls fluttering wildly around Sae's plunging cock. “Come for me,” he whispers, biting down on your shoulder as he thrusts deep—once, twice—

And you shatter.

You come with a scream of Sae's name, your body shaking and writhing beneath him, coming undone completely around him.

Holy shit…what do the fuck did you just do?

The room stinks of sex, and you can feel Sae’s soft pants on your chest—but your heart beat is even louder. 

Shit, this wasn’t supposed to happen!

You shift slightly, pushing sae off of you a bit. He hums sleepily, glancing up at you. He holds your hand, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. “Mmm..you okay?”

You don’t answer.

You get up and find your clothes scattered on the floor, quickly starting to dress. You move like your on auto pilot, trying to put everything on as quickly as possible. If you let yourself think, you’ll fall a part. 

Sae sits up, his hair messy, a slight furrow present on his face, “your leaving already?” 

You pause halfway through putting on your shoes. You tie your laces, and without looking at him, you reply, “yeah.”

He doesn’t even bother stopping you—just huffs and lays back down. 

Maybe that’s what hurts most. 

———————————————

(Next morning)

You hear a knock on your door, but you can’t be bothered to get up and unlock it. So you just sit and listen as the knocking pauses…then continues. It goes on like this for at least 10 minutes, until the aggravating sound pushes you to drag your tired body to the door. Your still in the same clothes as last night. 

You haven’t slept.

You haven’t showered.

And you definitely haven’t forgiven. 

You open it slowly, and there he is. Your boyfriend? Ex boyfriend? You haven’t officially broken up yet…

His eyes immediately scan your face, taking in your messy hair, your eye bags, slightly swollen lips. He shifts nervously on his feet before breaking the silence.

“hey.” His voice is quiet—unsure.

You don’t move, “your here.”

“Yeah,” he exhales, “I needed to see you, I needed to apologise—for the arguement.”

Your eyes well up with tears, he didn’t even remember what he said when he was drunk. 

You take a deep breath, make eye contact , and mutter a small, “who’s Bailey?”

He freezes—but not in a way someone who just got caught in the act would. But like someone who was genuinely confused. “What—baby I don’t-“ 

“I asked you who’s Bailey?!” You snap, you voice rising. 

A few tears roll down your cheek as your fists clench at your sides.

Rin shakes his head so fast it looked like it might fall off, “baby, I swear, I don’t know wh-“

You let out a dry, humourless laugh “Yesterday, You said ‘I love you, Bailey.’ So tell me—who the fuck is Bailey?!” 

His face shifts through a storm of emotions, then settles as realisation hits. You brace yourself, expecting him to start apologising or just plain out admit it. But instead, he says—

 “No-no, i meant to say baby not bailey.” 

You freeze.

He steps forward and wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a hug. “I’m so sorry for ever making you think I’d ever betray you like that, baby. I love you.”

Oh you fucked up…

[ryuseislilobsession]

"we're breaking up" texts with bllk boys

ft rin itoshi, sae itoshi, nagi seishiro, alexis ness, chigiri hyoma, shidou ryusei

(twst version)

[ryuseislilobsession]

make me divine ༄.°

a rin itoshi oneshot. 3.1k words

warning: contains elements like psychological manipulation, body horror, disturbing imagery, and more. recommended for 18+. if you feel uncomfortable, please read away — not for the lighthearted

you wake up in a room you don’t recognize,

the walls are white. too white. like a hospital trying too hard to pretend it’s home. the air is sharp, antiseptic sweet, tinged with something earthy and metallic—like wilted flowers left in bloodied water.

you sit up slowly. your bones ache. your throat is dry. there’s a man in the chair beside you.

“rin…?” you whisper.

he looks up. his face softens like melted wax.

“you’re awake,” he breathes. he stands—steps closer, like something magnetic’s pulling him in. “god, you’re really awake.”

you flinch when his fingers brush your cheek. he doesn’t stop. just stares at you, almost reverently.

“where… where am i?” you ask.

rin smiles.

“you’re home.” and just like that, the air settles, and something in your chest loosens—until the next morning.

‎

the next day, you took a sip from a chipped mug—black tea, too sweet. your hands tremble. your head is cloudy. across the table, rin watches you over his own cup, silent, steady, like he’s waiting for you to remember something he won’t say out loud.

“you were in a car accident,” he says softly. “do you remember?”

you pause. images flicker. headlights. screeching tires. the cold snap of your spine.

“i… i think so.”

“they said you wouldn’t wake up,” he continues, almost whispering. “they were going to let you go. but i couldn’t. i wouldn’t.”

“what are you saying?”

“i took you,” he says quietly, almost like he’s confessing to something holy.

you blink. “what…?”

his eyes don’t leave yours. he leans in a little, voice lower now.

“i took you from the hospital.”

your mouth opens, but no sound comes out.

“they left the door open,” he continues, calmly. like he’s recounting a memory that brings him peace. “the night staff had switched shifts. the hallway was dark. nobody saw me. nobody noticed me. i was just another visitor.”

you sit frozen.

“i’d been there every day, you know,” he murmurs. “at first, the nurses kept track. but eventually they stopped asking who i was. stopped looking twice. they thought you were never going to wake up.”

he lifts his cup again but doesn’t drink. his fingers tighten around it, knuckles pale.

“they were going to let you go,” he says. “they called your parents in. they talked about pulling the plug. ‘no quality of life,’ they said. like you were already gone.”

he looks up at you again.

“but i knew you weren’t. i felt it. i could see it, in the way your fingers twitched. the way your lips moved when no one else was looking.”

his voice is soft, intense.

“i couldn’t let you die. not like that. not alone.”

he reaches across the table and takes your hand gently in both of his.

“so i brought you here. where it’s quiet. where it’s safe. where it’s just us.”

your breath catches in your throat.

“…this is… rin, this is—” you trail off, unable to find the word.

“i saved you,” he says, his thumb brushing slowly over your knuckles. “i kept you. i gave you a chance. another life.”

his hands tighten. you flinch, just barely. he doesn’t seem to notice.

“i saved you,” he repeats, and his voice cracks this time. “why aren’t you happy?”

you stare down at your hands—his wrapped around yours. the warmth of him is real. the tremble in his voice is real. and yet—

your heart pounds. not in fear. not yet. just confusion. too many thoughts that won’t line up.

“…i’m just trying to understand,” you whisper. “that’s all.”

his gaze softens then he kisses your cheek.

“i know,” he says. “you’ve been through so much. it’ll all make sense soon.” then he smiles at you, gentle. loving. you try to smile back, but something in your chest won’t stop twisting.

later, you wander the house. at first, you tell yourself it’s just curiosity. you want to get your bearings. but the longer you walk, the heavier the silence gets.

there are no clocks anywhere. not on the walls, not by the beds. not even on the stove. time doesn't move here. you’ve been awake for hours, but the light never changes. morning doesn’t come. night doesn’t fall. it’s always just… pale.

the windows don’t open. not a crack. some don’t even show anything when you press your face to the glass—just a thick white blur, like the world outside has been erased.

your phone is gone. rin said it must’ve been lost, voice thick with apology. you wanted to believe him.

the landline on the wall doesn’t work either. you picked it up earlier out of habit. no dial tone. just a soft, warbling static that made your scalp prickle. you thought—just for a second—you heard something underneath the noise. something breathing.

“no one needs to call when they’re already home.”

you haven’t tried again.

and now you realize: every door leads to another room, identical in its stillness. clean, sterile, lifeless. like a dream too tightly wound.

except for the one at the end of the hall—the red door.

it’s always locked. cold. silent.

you don’t ask about it. not yet.

but you think about it.

because sometimes, late at night, when the hallway stretches longer than it should and the shadows deepen without moving, you hear something. not loud. never loud. just a faint scrape. like fingernails. or breathing. you tell yourself it’s nothing. but you start sleeping with the lamp on.

you ask rin once.

“what’s in there?”

his expression ices over.

“nothing,” he says. “nothing you need to see.”

one day, you find a mirror in the bathroom. but your reflection is delayed—just slightly. just enough to make you nauseous. later, you open the cabinet and find a small jar labeled

“june 13 – back left molar.”

inside is your tooth.

you drop it. the jar rolls across the tile and hits the wall with a dull clink.

 “you’re up late,” rin says behind you.

you flinch. your foot knocks the jar under the sink. you don’t look back.

“couldn’t sleep,” you murmur. your voice sounds like it belongs to someone else.

rin steps closer. you hear the soft pads of his feet against tile. his hand ghosts over your shoulder but doesn’t land.

“come to bed,” he says.

you nod. you force your face into something neutral in the reflection—the reflection that lags, just a beat too long.

you turn off the light, leave the jar where it is, and follow him down the hall. when you finally reach the bedroom, rin gently asks you to lie down. as you settle back, rin strokes your hair slowly, his fingers tracing delicate paths along your scalp, as if memorizing the texture of you.

“you don’t trust me, do you?” he murmurs, voice low and raw.

you lie still, barely breathing, his arm draped over you like a leash—binding, but also strangely warm.

“i just…don’t understand what’s happening,” you whisper, voice trembling, caught between fear and something else you can’t name.

“i fixed you,” he says softly, as if that alone should explain everything. “they were going to let you rot. but i didn’t let that happen. not on my watch.”

your chest tightens.

then, his grip tightens suddenly, a hiss barely louder than a breath: “you’re mine. you were always meant to be mine. you just didn’t realize it yet.”

without warning, rin moves closer, the warmth of him pressing into you. slowly, deliberately, he begins to remove his clothes—then yours.

your mind clouds, heart pounding in a chaotic rhythm. part of you wants to pull away, to hold onto whatever control you still have. but another part—some small, aching part—wants to believe him.

“i don’t want to hurt you,” he murmurs, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “just let me be close. just for tonight.”

you hesitate, the confusion swirling inside you. but your body moves before your mind can catch up. you nod—uncertain, consenting—not because you’re sure, but because you can’t say no.

all you can do is oblige.

then the dreams began—in them, your body unravels and reshapes itself against your will. your skin bubbles and tears, stretching over impossible angles, raw and slick. beneath the surface, something writhes—coiling, pulsing, a dark parasite twisting deep into your spine. vertebrae crack and shift with every breath, sending jagged pain through your back.

your limbs spasm uncontrollably, folding in ways that shouldn’t be possible. you hear the rasp of thread pulling tight, sewing your flesh together in cruel patterns, a grotesque tapestry you can’t escape.

and then you wake—heart hammering, breath ragged, sweat slick on your skin. the room is silent except for your own ragged breaths. you stare at the ceiling, trying to shake the nightmare’s weight from your chest, but the dread clings to you like a second skin.

then, from the shadows near the doorway, a soft voice breaks the silence.

“good morning.”

it’s rin. you turn toward him, your voice barely a whisper, cracked with exhaustion and fear.

“please... tell me everything,” you say, voice trembling. “i can’t keep pretending i’m okay. i feel… so uncomfortable, like i’m losing my mind. like something’s wrong—inside me.”

his eyes soften, but there’s an edge of something unreadable beneath his calm. without hesitation, he steps closer and takes your hand—his touch warm but firm.

“you kept asking,” he says low, urgent. “you need to know. so i’ll show you. but you have to promise me one thing.”

you swallow hard, a pit opening in your stomach.

“anything.”

“don’t scream.”

his grip tightens just enough to remind you this is real. together, you walk toward the red door—its surface rough and scarred, ancient and ominous. it creaks open slowly, deliberately, as if it’s been waiting just for this moment.

you swallow down the lump in your throat, your heart pounding so loud you’re sure he can hear it.

whatever lies beyond that door—there is no turning back.

he pushes the door wider, the shadows swallowing you both. inside is a hospital room—

it feels too real. too quiet. the machines beep slowly. a pale figure lies in the bed.

you stepped forward, heart hammering. and then you see—your face. your body. hooked up to tubes and monitors. skin gaunt. hair limp.

you.

but something catches your eye—resting lightly against the hospital gown, a delicate necklace glimmers in the dim light. a small, familiar charm.

“you never woke up,” rin whispers suddenly behind you. “not really. your body’s still there. but your soul…” he smiles. “i brought it here.”

you stumble back.

“no—no, this can’t be real—”

“i read every book,” he says. “spells, rituals, memory transference. i tried it all. and then one night—i felt you.”

“you’re sick—this is wrong—”

“i gave you a second life,” he snarls. “don’t act like i didn’t save you!”

on split second, you ran—fast, breath ragged, heart hammering in your chest like a desperate drumbeat.

your feet barely touch the floor as you stumble through the dark hallways, the cold air biting at your skin, every shadow twisting into something threatening. panic coils tighter with every step, a wild, frantic energy propelling you forward.

you didn’t look back.

and he doesn’t follow. the silence behind you stretches like a void, heavy and absolute, as if the world itself is holding its breath.

your lungs burn, but you keep going, desperate to put as much distance as possible between you and the red door, between you and him.

one morning, you wake up gagging,

the bitter taste of copper and rot flooding your mouth. you stumble toward the mirror, your hands trembling as you reach for the edge of the sink to steady yourself. your reflection meets you with hollow, haunted eyes—empty and distant like a ghost trapped behind glass.

bruises bloom across your neck—dark, angry handprints pressed deep into your skin, raw and swollen. you raise a shaking hand to touch your throat, wincing as your fingers brush against the blistered, aching flesh beneath. the pain is sharp, a brutal reminder of what you’ve endured.

rin appears behind you, silent and still, his presence a shadow in the small room. “you tried to scream,” he says, voice low and heavy, thick with cold menace. “but i can’t have you shouting. not now.”

your voice is a cracked whisper, barely audible. “why are you doing this to me?”

he leans down, lips brushing against your ear, his breath warm and threatening. “because only i get to hold you. you're safe. you're mine."

your breath catches.

“you’re safe. you’re mine.”

rin turns to you, startled. “what’s wrong?”

but his voice is distant. dampened. your vision flickers, a pulse of white static blinking behind your eyelids. you stagger back, pressing your palms to your temples. “stop—make it stop—”

“you’re safe. you’re mine.”

again. again.

the line felt familiar. you tried recalling it—cling to the thread of it—but it slips through your fingers like smoke.

rin watches you too closely now. like he knows something has shifted. like he senses the fracture forming behind your eyes. you tried acting normal. to move the way he expects.

but the silence between his words is louder now. and the house feels hungrier.

your days dissolved into twisted rituals—rin bathes you in water steeped with sharp, stinging herbs that leave your skin raw and burning. your wrists are bound tightly with red thread, knots tied like prayers or curses, biting into your flesh with every movement.

“you are a goddess,” he tells you, voice thick with madness, “and gods must bleed to be pure.”

the garden outside has grown wild, untamed, like something alive and hungry. roses bloom—petals slick and glistening, soaked with something thick and sticky, almost like blood. the air hangs heavy, sweet and sour.

you step carefully through the twisted vines, and there—half-buried in cracked dirt—is the necklace you found before.

the chain is snapped cleanly in two, the delicate pendant lying face down on the ground, chipped and dulled.

a faint metallic clink echoes as you nudge it with your foot.

a shiver crawls up your spine.

nearby, a statue stands—a rough, jagged carving of yourself, and rin kneels beside it, cradling the cold figure like a frail child, whispering reverently.

“you’re perfect,” he breathes, voice almost worshipful. “they didn’t deserve you. but i do.”

you try to tear yourself away, desperate to escape, but the garden shifts around you—the doors slam shut with a bone-rattling thud and the walls ripple inward, closing the space like a cage. you are trapped. you scream, but the sound twists and warps, bouncing back at you distorted and cruel, as if the house itself is mocking your terror.

one night, he drags you before the red door again.

“this time,” he says softly, “you’ll see everything.”

he unlocks it with a slow, deliberate turn. inside is a grotesque altar—black candles drip thick wax that pools like blood. a cracked mirror hangs above, spiderwebbed with fractures.

in that fractured glass, your reflection is warped—twisted in agony, your eyes hollow and bleeding.

“you are already dead,” rin’s voice breaks, raw and desperate.

“but here—here, you can be divine.”

he pulls a gleaming knife from his pocket, its blade catching the flickering candlelight.

“you will be perfect. you’ll never leave me.”

you try to fight. panic claws at your throat.

he laughs—harsh, brittle, like glass breaking beneath your feet.

“foolish,” he sneers. “you already belong to me.”

the cold knife presses against your skin—sharp, unforgiving. he traces the red thread stitched deep into your flesh, a cruel seam binding you together like a twisted, living scar.

and then you see it—

you’ve been pieced together, stitched with madness—your mind, your body torn and reassembled like a broken doll, a puppet in his worship. the house watches, silent and hungry, then dissolves before your eyes; its walls melt into blood, the garden bleeding roses. everywhere you look, you see yourself— all twisted.

suddenly, a flicker of memory stabs through the haze. you’re somewhere else—warmth and light. a familiar voice, calm and sure, brushes your ear like a gentle wind:

“you’re safe. you’re mine.”

the eyes behind that voice—framed by magenta hair—hold a promise you once believed in, steady and unshakable.

the memory fades, swallowed by the oppressive silence around rin. you’re back—lost, trembling, caught between two worlds. then silence.

you open your eyes. the red door has vanished. the house is empty, hollow—except for rin. he stands before you, eyes wild and worshipful, burning with a fierce devotion that sends a chill curling down your spine. his gaze drifts over your body, and a twisted smile slowly unfurls on his lips.

“do you feel it?” he asks, voice low, trembling with reverence. “the god inside you?”

you do—barely. it’s a faint flicker, a dying ember beneath a thick veil of rot. your skin feels brittle, almost translucent, veins darkening like ink beneath the surface. bruised patches of decay mar your arms and neck, subtle but undeniable, like the slow unraveling of a fragile doll. your breath is shallow, movements sluggish, as if your body is quietly decomposing from within.

rin doesn’t see this. or maybe he refuses to see it. his fingers trace along your cracked skin with a twisted tenderness, as if worshipping a sacred relic.

“you’re perfect,” he whispers, voice cracking under the weight of his madness. “like a goddess.”

then, without warning, your vision fractures—flickering like an old film reel—and you are pulled into a scene:

a child with soft, dark hair kneels in a wild garden, his small hands gently tending to roses blooming under a bruised sky. the boy hums quietly, innocent and pure, unaware of the creeping shadows gathering at the edges of the garden. his eyes, wide and untainted, glance up to the darkening horizon—silent, hopeful.

the image shatters, and you are thrust forward, back into the present.

rin stands before you, no longer a boy but a man possessed, his face a mask of obsession and worship.

you clawed at the door that doesn’t open. you screamed through a mouth that doesn’t work.

on the other side of the world, sae knelt by your grave, hands trembling as he placed red roses on the cold stone. his voice barely broke the heavy silence as he whispered the words he had once spoken to you,

“you’re safe. you’re mine.”

his eyes drifted to the empty gravestone beside yours—his brother’s name there.

he didn’t know where rin had gone.

he didn’t know what had happened.

but only rin knows everything.

and with that same chilling finality, rin repeats—this time for you alone—

“you’re safe. you’re mine—forevermore.”

beyond the edge of life’s frail seam, he stalks the folds of fractured dreams, beware the grasp you cannot see— for he’s the ghost that hunts for thee.

for clarification:

y/n was sae’s lover. after a fatal accident, she disappeared without a trace—no one knew what happened to her. only rin found her, barely alive, and instead of saving her openly, he hid her behind a locked hospital door, keeping her existence a secret.

y/n actually died but rin managed to trap her soul, binding it to that hidden place. her spirit lingered, caught between life and death, unable to move on. rin’s obsession kept her tethered, refusing to let her go, even as her physical form faded away.

the red door is the barrier that seals y/n’s trapped soul inside the hidden room. it stands as a threshold between the living world and the shadowed space where she exists—neither fully alive nor truly gone. this door represents the cruel prison forged by obsession and control, locking y/n in a limbo where time and reality distort. behind it, memories twist and fade, and freedom becomes only an illusion. the red door is both a warning and a symbol of the dark hold that keeps her confined.

©sevarchive𓇼