#he is in the depths of despair someone help him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chuuyrr · 3 months

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𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 LET THE FEAR YOU HAVE FALL AWAY, I'VE GOT MY EYE ON YOU — FYODOR DOSTOEVSKY .ᐟ

𐀔·˚ CW(s): f! reader, bsd chapter 112 & 113 spoilers, religious themes, angst/comfort, reader is hinted to have an angel-like ability, poetic-ish writing

𐀔·˚ SYNOPSIS: like lucifer's descent from heaven's height, he fell and you followed

𐀔·˚ NOW PLAYING: say yes to heaven by lana del rey

in the grand halls of the museum, where the walls were adorned with masterpieces of art from centuries past, you first caught sight of him—fyodor dostoevsky, with his magnetic presence and mysterious aura, stood before a painting, his gaze fixed on the canvas as if it held the secrets of the universe.

amidst the splendor of renaissance masterpieces and timeless classics, you stood, a vision of innocence and wonder, your eyes drawn to the enigmatic figure across the room.

despite the warnings whispered by your intuition, you couldn't resist the urge to approach him, couldn't ignore the magnetic pull that seemed to bind you to him amidst the strokes of paint and layers of history.

fyodor continues to gaze upon the famous religious painting that hung on the far wall, depicting the fall of lucifer from heaven's height, "it's a hauntingly beautiful piece, isn't it?" you muse, your eyes lingering on the intricate details of the canvas.

he nods, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips, his eyes not leaving the painting, "indeed, it is. it captures the tragedy of lucifer's descent, his fall from grace immortalized in paint and canvas."

"and yet," you whisper, your voice barely above a breath, "i cannot help but feel a strange kinship with him, with the fallen angel who defied the heavens for love."

fyodor's gaze shifts from the painting to you, his eyes searching yours with a mixture of curiosity and understanding as you continue speaking, "you know, love has a way of defying the rules of the universe."

he murmurs his response, fyodor's voice carrying a weight of experience beyond his years, "it can lead us to places we never imagined, make us do things we never thought ourselves capable of."

you nod, captivated by the intensity of his gaze, "and yet, it can also lead to our downfall," you reply softly, a hint of sadness tingling your words. "like the fallen angel, we may find ourselves cast out from the heavens, destined to wander in the darkness for eternity."

"but perhaps," fyodor muses, his voice barely more than a whisper, yet carrying something heavy in it, "it is in the darkness that we truly find ourselves; in the depths of despair."

you are silent for a moment, lost in thought as you contemplate his words, "say, do you believe that we can find redemption, even after falling from grace?" you ask, your voice hesitant yet hopeful.

your question hangs in the air, a weighty silence settling between you and fyodor. his gaze, once warm and reassuring, now holds a hint of uncertainty, as if grappling with the complexities of your inquiry.

"redemption," he repeats, the word tasting bitter on his tongue, "a concept that eludes even the most devout of believers. for who among us can claim to be free from sin, to be worthy of redemption?"

you listen, your heart heavy with the weight of his words. there is a darkness in him that you cannot ignore, a shadow that clouds his every action and motive.

"and yet," fyodor continues, his voice softer now, almost pleading, "i cannot help but believe that there is hope for us yet. that despite our flaws and failings, we are capable of finding that salvation.. don't you think so, dear?"

you want to believe him, to cling to the flicker of hope that he offers, but doubts linger in the recesses of your mind. can redemption truly be found in the embrace of someone so steeped in darkness?

as you wrestle with your doubts, fyodor reaches out, his hand gentle against your cheek, his touch cold as ice, yet inviting like snow, "together," he whispers, his voice a soothing balm against the turmoil in your soul, "we can redeem ourselves, and find peace."

his words are a siren song, luring you deeper into the abyss. and though a part of you knows that following him will only lead to further darkness, you find yourself unable to resist.

for in the presence of this stranger, you feel a sense of purpose, and so, with a heavy heart and a mind clouded by doubt, you choose to follow him into the unknown, clinging to the hope that somehow, you will find the light at the end of the tunnel.

fyodor knew, as he gazed into your eyes, that you possessed a power beyond measure. it was an ability born of innocence and purity, yet tempered by the trials of the world. he saw the light that radiated from your soul, a beacon of hope in the darkness that surrounded him.

and you, in turn, sensed the darkness that lurked within him, the shadowy depths of his being that he kept hidden from the world. but despite the warnings whispered by your intuition, you couldn't resist the pull of his presence, couldn't deny the longing that stirred within your heart whenever you were near him.

in shadows deep, where whispers weave,

two souls entwined, in love's deceitful sieve.

you, the angel with wings of gold,

he, the fallen, his secrets untold.

despite the warning bells ringing in your mind, you find yourself inexorably drawn to fyodor, like a moth to a flame. his charisma and conviction are like a siren's call, beckoning you deeper into the abyss of his twisted ideology.

as he speaks of blessings for the children and happiness to the world to your ears, you can't help but feel a shiver run down your spine. his words, laced with honeyed deceit, cloak the darkness of his actions in the guise of righteousness.

and yet, when he speaks of god and his desire for perfection and harmony, there is a fervor in his voice that is hard to ignore. he paints himself as a righteous crusader, a chosen vessel for carrying out the lord's will in a world plagued by sin.

but beneath the facade of piety lies a darkness that you cannot reconcile. you see the cruelty in his actions, the pain he inflicts on innocent souls in the name of his twisted version of salvation—from the rats in the house of the dead to the decay of angel. all of it.

his words offer a glimmer of hope in the darkness that surrounds you, but deep down, you can't shake the feeling of unease. you've witnessed the cruelty he inflicts upon others, the pain he causes in the name of his twisted vision of righteousness, along with the lives he took from others.

"what about those who suffer because of your actions?" you press, your voice quivering with emotion as your feathered wings of an angel folded behind your back, red splattered on white as if it was red blood and white snow, "do you believe they can find redemption too?"

fyodor's expression darkens for a moment, a shadow passing over his features before he regains his composure, "sometimes, sacrifices must be made for the greater good," he replies, his voice cold and distant, "it is a small price to pay for the salvation of humanity."

you recoil at his words, the weight of his callousness pressing down on you like a leaden blanket. despite your doubts, despite the whispers of your conscience urging you to flee, you find yourself unable to turn away from him.

feeling the weight of your doubts and fears, fyodor's expression softens, and he reaches out to gently take your hand in his. his touch is cold, a strange yet comforting contrast to the warmth that had settled over your soul.

"my dear," he begins, his voice gentle and reassuring, "i understand your concerns. it's natural to question, to doubt, in the face of uncertainty. but trust me when i say that everything i do, i do with the utmost conviction, with the belief that it is for the greater good."

his words soothe the turmoil in your heart, if only for a moment. you find yourself drawn to the sincerity in his eyes, the earnestness of his conviction. despite the darkness that surrounds him, there is a flicker of something genuine within him, a spark of humanity that refuses to be extinguished—his love for you.

"and as for those who suffer," he continues, his voice filled with compassion, "know that i carry the burden of their pain with me always. it is a heavy cross to bear, but i do so willingly, in the hope of bringing about a better world."

as he speaks, you feel a sense of peace settle over you, a quiet acceptance of the path that lies ahead. in his embrace, you find solace, a refuge from the storm raging within your soul and as he leans in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, you feel a warmth spread through you.

as the warmth of fyodor's embrace envelops you, you can't shake the nagging doubts that linger in the corners of your mind. despite his reassurances, you still can't help but wonder if the path you're on truly leads to redemption or if it's veering dangerously close to damnation.

and then, just when you least expect it, fyodor's gaze locks onto yours with an intensity that takes your breath away, "do you love me?" he asks, his voice barely more than a whisper, but it reverberates through the depths of your soul like a thunderclap.

his question catches you off guard, leaving you momentarily speechless. you find yourself drowning in the depths of his gaze, lost in the swirling currents of emotion that swirl within you.

it's as if he's pulling you in, drawing you closer with an irresistible allure that you can't resist. like a fallen angel tempting a pure soul yet to succumb to darkness, he wraps you in his embrace, his touch setting your heart ablaze with a fire you can't extinguish.

speechless at first, you find yourself caught in the gravity of fyodor's deep gaze, unable to tear your eyes away from his. his words echo in the caverns of your mind, stirring a whirlwind of emotions that threaten to consume you.

but fyodor doesn't wait for your response. instead, he continues, his voice a soothing melody that wraps around you like a comforting embrace.

"let your fear fall away, my love," he whispers, his words a gentle reassurance against the storm raging within your soul, "i am here for you, always. trust in me, trust in our love, and together we will rise above the darkness that threatens to engulf us."

his words are like a lifeline in the midst of a tempest, offering you solace and strength when you need it most. and as you gaze into his eyes, you feel a sense of calm wash over you, a quiet acceptance of the path that lies ahead.

"do you love me?" fyodor asks again, his voice filled with a raw vulnerability that pierces through the facade of his confidence, "say yes to heaven, to us. say yes to me, my love."

his words hang in the air, a silent plea that tugs at your heartstrings. and in that moment, as you stand on the precipice of uncertainty, you know that you have a choice to make. you can cling to the safety of your doubts and fears, or you can take a leap of faith into the unknown, guided by the hand of the one you love.

with a trembling breath, you meet fyodor's gaze, your voice barely above a whisper as you utter the words that seal your fate.

"yes," you say, your heart pounding in your chest, "i love you. i say yes to heaven, to us."

beneath the moonlight's gentle glow, fyodor draws you close, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that ignites a firestorm of passion within you. it's a kiss that tastes of forbidden desires and whispered promises.

as his lips press against yours, you feel a surge of electricity coursing through your veins, a sensation so intense it threatens to consume you whole. it's a feeling you've never experienced before, a heady mix of longing and surrender that leaves you breathless and wanting more.

in that moment, you realize that you are no longer the innocent angel you once were. the blood of the lives you took stains your feathery wings, a reminder of the sins you've committed in the name of love. and yet, as you wrap your wings around fyodor, drawing him closer to you, you know that you wouldn't have it any other way.

for in his embrace, you find redemption, a sense of purpose that transcends the boundaries of morality and reason. and as you lose yourself in the intoxicating embrace of his kiss, you know that you have chosen your path, for better or for worse.

like a fallen angel corrupting a pure soul, fyodor has led you astray, tempting you with the forbidden fruit of his love and yet, as you surrender to the darkness that consumes you both.

as the helicopter carrying fyodor descends towards the building, panic grips the air. dazai and chuuya watch in horror, their voices drowned out by the deafening roar of the crashing metal.

nikolai, the ally of your love, tasked with keeping you restrained for your own safety, struggles in vain to keep you chained, but his efforts prove futile against the strength of your resolve.

with a defiant cry, your white, feathery, angelic wings unfurled with a majestic flourish. the chains that once held you captive fall away like brittle twigs, unable to withstand the force of your determination.

with a powerful flap of your wings, you launch yourself into the air, soaring towards the burning wreckage with a sense of urgency that borders on desperation. the wind rushes past you, whipping through your hair and stirring the feathers of your wings as you race against time to reach fyodor.

as your heart heavy with determination, you set your sights on him, your angelic wings carrying you towards the helicopter where he lies bloodied and impaled.

fyodor's surprise is evident as he sees you, freed from the chains that once bound you, rushing to his side. but as you reach out to save him, the flames engulfing the helicopter grow stronger, fueled by the chaos of the moment.

as you rush to fyodor's side amidst the chaos and flames, his surprise is palpable, "what have you done?" he gasps, his voice laced with disbelief and a hint of desperation, "why did you come after me?"

but you meet his gaze with unwavering determination, your voice steady despite the turmoil surrounding you as tears blur your vision, "because i'm longer afraid," you reply, your words a declaration of your unwavering love and loyalty, "and i said yes to heaven, to you. i love you."

fyodor's expression softens, a flicker of emotion passing through his eyes as he takes in your words.

the flames of the crashing helicopter engulf you both, fyodor's mind races with disbelief. never in all his years, through all the eras he has traversed, did he imagine that someone as angelic as you would follow his descent into darkness until the very end.

despite your efforts, you realize with a sinking heart that it's too late. the flames rage around you, the turbulence of the crashing metal making it impossible for you to fly any longer. and in that moment of desperation, you know that your fate is sealed, bound together with fyodor's in a tragic twist of destiny.

dazai, chuuya, and nikolai can only watch in horror as the helicopter, carrying the two of you, descends into the inferno below, and it's a scene straight out of a nightmare, the fall of lucifer from heaven's height mirrored in the downfall of fyodor with you.

but in that fleeting moment before oblivion claims him, fyodor felt a surge of gratitude mixed with sorrow. gratitude for the love and loyalty you showed him, despite the darkness that consumed him.

sorrow for the tragedy that befell both of you, a consequence of his own actions and the twisted path he had chosen.

the world around him fades into darkness, but fyodor's thoughts still linger on you, his angel who chose to follow him into the depths of hell. and in that final moment of clarity, he finds a small measure of peace, knowing that even in death, you loved him, and he loved you.

as the heavens wept with auburn for your tragic tale, you danced on where shadows prevail. for he was both god and devil, intertwined, and you, his angel, forever confined.

and in the echoes of your love's demise,

you cherish the moments, beneath starlit skies.

for in his darkness, you found your light,

a love that burned, fierce in the night.

𐀔·˚ TAGGING: @aureatchi @soleelia @little-miss-chaos @cheriiyaya @himikoslove @atzuhi @enjisthings @chizenn

𐀔·˚ A.N.: this is my first ever fyodor fic, hopefully he wasn't too ooc, and as for the plot? the start where you and him meet was inspired by @/aureatchi or reverie with her fondness for fyodor and museums. it felt so so fitting !! also the angst and comfort of the plot was very intended ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

#fyodor x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #fyodor dostoevsky x reader #fyodor x y/n #fyodor x you #bsd imagines #bsd scenarios #bsd fyodor #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #bungou stray dogs x reader

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pin-k-ink · 2 months

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star-crossed // goshiki tsutomu

CW: a little suggestive, goshiki being adorable and borderline possessive

The volleyball team watched with knowing smiles and barely contained laughter as Goshiki, a wide-eyed first-year student, fell head over heels for you, the team's beloved manager. It was amusing, to say the least

From the moment your eyes met, Goshiki was utterly smitten. Your motherly nature and unwavering loyalty to the team had earned you the respect and admiration of Coach Washijo, who had handpicked you for the role. But it was your enchanting beauty that truly captured the attention of the players, especially the impressionable Goshiki, whose heart raced every time you drew near.

The first time you praised his incredible cut-shot during practice, your melodic voice sending shivers down his spine, Goshiki's heart soared to new heights. Your gentle head pat, your fingers lingering just a moment too long in his hair, solidified his devotion, turning him into putty in your hands. From that moment on, he sought your approval at every turn, his eyes constantly searching for your face in the crowd, yearning for your gaze to meet his.

Goshiki's affection for you was as clear as the blue sky above, yet you remained blissfully unaware of the depths of his feelings. The team marveled at your obliviousness, wondering how you could possibly miss the way Goshiki's jaw would go slack in your presence, his eyes drinking in every curve of your body when he thought no one was looking. It was a miracle, they thought, that you hadn't noticed his obvious adoration, the way his cheeks flushed crimson whenever you drew near.

As time passed, Goshiki's mood began to revolve around you, his happiness tied to your every action. He would wait with bated breath for your nod of acknowledgment after scoring a point, his heart pounding in his chest, his smile only appearing once he received your subtle praise. The team couldn't help but wonder how he would cope when they learned of your impending absence due to illness, a development that threatened to shatter his delicate emotional state.

Chaos ensued on the day you were away, Goshiki transforming into a version of Ushijima, but with an added layer of despair that bordered on the comical. He was all over the place, his mind consumed by thoughts of you, constantly glancing at the gym door, hoping for your arrival with a desperation that was palpable. When someone other than you handed him his water bottle, he was on the verge of tears, his bottom lip quivering as he fought back the urge to cry out for you.

The team found his behavior comical, stifling their laughter behind raised hands, but Ushijima seemed to be the only one who was genuinely concerned. It was for the sake of the team, he said, his brow furrowed in contemplation. In an unexpected gesture of kindness, he provided Goshiki with your address, a piece of information that the lovestruck boy treasured like a sacred artifact.

Goshiki spent an hour practicing his words in front of the mirror, his heart hammering in his chest as he mustered the courage to visit you at home. He stood before your door for fifteen minutes, his finger hovering over the doorbell, unaware that your amused parents were watching him through the peephole, their eyes twinkling with mirth.

Your mother, unable to contain her curiosity any longer, finally opened the door, feigning surprise as Goshiki nearly leaped out of his skin, his face turning a delightful shade of red. She ushered him inside, her hand on the small of his back, and led him to your room, where you lay resting, your beauty undiminished by your illness.

Goshiki stood stiffly beside your bed, his heart racing as he extended a container of homemade soup with shaking hands. When your fingers brushed against his, a jolt of electricity coursing through his body, he nearly fainted, his knees threatening to buckle beneath him. You invited him to sit, patting the space beside you on the bed, and as the day progressed, his laughter became more natural, his words flowing with ease as he lost himself in your presence.

The team noticed the growing closeness between you and Goshiki, the way your bodies seemed to gravitate towards each other, the lingering touches and meaningful glances. Shirabu predicted that you wouldn't be able to handle a clingy Goshiki for more than a month, a statement that proved somewhat true, but vastly underestimated the depths of your patience and affection.

It wasn't just clingy Goshiki you had to contend with; it was also possessive Goshiki, his eyes narrowing whenever another boy dared to look your way, and will-you-marry-me-Goshiki, whose declarations of love grew bolder with each passing day.

The latter became a disaster when, on a sweltering day after practice, a prankster drenched you with water as you entered the gym, your clothes clinging to your body in a way that made Goshiki's mouth go dry. With your jacket and shirt soaked through, revealing the tantalizing curves beneath, Shirabu offered you a spare, his eyes lingering just a moment too long on your form.

But Goshiki intervened, nearly shredding the garment in his possessiveness, his eyes ablaze with a fire that made Shirabu take a step back. He raced to the storage closet, throwing the door open just as you lifted your drenched shirt over your head, the sight of your lacy bra and bare skin causing his heart to stop.

You were oblivious to his presence, lost in your struggle with the heavy, clingy fabric, and Goshiki could only stare, his nose bleeding as he took in the vision before him. In a panic, he tossed his spare shirt in your direction, his voice cracking as he exclaimed, "P-please wait until we get married, senpai!" before slamming the door shut and fleeing, his face burning with a mixture of embarrassment and desire.

From that moment on, Goshiki insisted that you two get married, claiming that since he had seen you nearly naked, you were ruined for any other man. You brushed off his determination as a joke, unaware of the depth of his feelings, the way his heart ached for you with every fiber of his being.

The team placed bets on how long it would take for you to tire of Goshiki's overbearing nature or for him to realize he had no chance with you. But exactly a month later, they stumbled upon a scene that left them stunned, their jaws dropping in unison.

In the gym, you sat on a bench with Goshiki kneeling between your legs, his hands resting on either side of your hips, his fingers tantalizingly close to your thighs. Your eyes were closed, your lips locked in a slow, sensual kiss that made the team's cheeks burn with secondhand embarrassment.

Ushijima's soft mumble of "Oh my, how scandalous" broke the silence, and chaos erupted, the team's shock giving way to a mixture of laughter and disbelief. Semi bolted towards Goshiki, ripping him away from you and shaking him back and forth, comical tears running down his cheeks as he lamented the loss of his innocent kouhai. Tendou snuck up behind you, his grin devilish, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he whispered suggestions in your ear that made your face turn a delightful shade of pink.

Goshiki's demeanor had changed, a newfound confidence radiating from him as he held you close. He was calmer, more levelheaded, but still utterly devoted to you, his eyes following your every move with a hunger that made your heart race. He would ask to hold your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours, and kiss your forehead, his lips lingering just a moment too long, a promise of more to come.

When Shirabu pointed out that Goshiki hadn't properly asked you out, the boy spent a week devising the perfect plan, his brow furrowed in concentration. But the moment he saw you dressed up for your date, all his carefully laid plans vanished, his heart taking over as he pulled you close and captured your lips in a searing kiss that left you breathless.

As your graduation approached, Goshiki was a mess, the thought of spending two years without you making his heart ache with a physical pain. But you reassured him, promising to visit every weekend and holiday, to call him every night, your voice a soothing balm to his fractured soul. It was only then that he reluctantly let you go, his eyes shining with unshed tears as he watched you walk away.

Long-distance relationships never worked out.

Or at least that’s what they thought. But five years later, they found themselves invited to your wedding, their jaws dropping once again as they watched you walk down the aisle in a stunning white dress. Goshiki, standing at the altar, teared up at the sight of you, his heart swelling with a love that had only grown stronger with time.

As you exchanged vows, your eyes locked on each other, the team realized that true love did exist, and that the definition of soulmates was standing right before them, a testament to the power of young love that had blossomed within the walls of Shiratorizawa Academy. And as Goshiki pulled you close, his lips claiming yours in a kiss that held the promise of a lifetime together, they couldn't help but smile, their hearts full of joy for the two of you, the couple that had defied all odds and found happiness in each other's arms.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #hq x reader #goshiki tsutomu #goshiki x reader #hq goshiki x reader

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theaawalker · 7 months

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Something to Feel, Something Real [Finnick Odair Smut]

Pairing: Finnick Odair x male!reader Song Inspo: Call Me By Your Name by Lil Nas X Word Count: 1,394 Summary: You've seen Finnick around, often through pitying eyes, but haven't spoken to him. The times you have seen, he's either with a client (flirting) or leaving them (shaking with shame, rage, and disgust). You decide to make him feel something real and mutually pleasurable. Warnings: smut, oral (male receiving), emotional build-up, MxM, one-shot, begging, substance usage, cursing, narrator pov Masterlist: see fandoms (pc-friendly) A/N: This is not attached to "I Promise", my other Finnick imagine. The second part will be here shortly. Just adding a little twist to the end. *smirks villainously* In the meantime, here's some gay smut to tickle your tentacles. Peep the easter egg tho ;)

You and Finnick have your first real conversation when he’s arriving back at the Tribute center one night after spending an upsetting few hours with one of Snow’s clients. He’s in a foul mood, anger bordering on despair and self-hatred, still feeling the ghosts of unwanted fingers on his body, when he steps into the elevator and finds you smoking a joint.

"Shit, shit!” you curse, hiding the joint up your sleeve and coughing, waving your hands in the air like you can disperse the smell. “Sorry, someone was smoking in here before,” you lie.

Finnick can’t help himself. He laughs. “Give me a hit and I won’t tell anyone.”

You share the joint in the elevator, not hitting any button to go up to either of your floors. The chatter comes easy with both of you, but it’s not long before you’re stepping over friendly small talk into a genuine conversation about the wild shit you’ve seen in the Capitol and in your case, at home, too. District 2 loves to rub elbows with the Capitol, something you despise. Your comparisons and imitations have Finnick barking laughter.

During one of the lulls in conversation, he takes in your face and form, basking in the fact that he’s responsible for the smile on your face right now. He’d like to get to know you better, and fuck it, maybe he’s a little horny right now, too.

“Come to my floor?” he asks, the joint between his fingers. He takes a slow drag, watching you.

You stare at his lips as he exhales. God, the high must be hitting because all you want to do is cover his lips with yours. Like, it’s the only thought rattling around in your peanut brain. His lips curl into a smile and--Oh, shit. He asked you a question.

“Sure,” you answer.

One expression Finnick identifies all too easily is lust. And he sees it plain on your face. “Then let’s go.”

Finnick leads you to the lounge on the fourth floor, well away from the bedrooms. The giant windows let in light from the Capitol’s nightlife.

“I miss the stars,” you say once you’re both settled next to each other on a loveseat. “It’s not like there are a ton of them back home with all the light pollution, but still. There are more than here.”

Finnick gazes at the dark sky. “You should come to District 4 sometime. You can see the entire Milky Way. And instead of listening to all those cars you listen to the ocean. And you can forget everything for a few moments.”

Despite the lounge being much, much larger than the elevator, this feels far more intimate. Finnick and you face each other, your eyes flicking to his lips. He’s the Capitol sex icon and has always acted like an absolute peacock on camera, but you’ve seen him trying so hard mentoring his own tributes and taking care of Mags. There’s a lot more depth to him than what the cameras show. And you like the bits he shows off camera far, far more. Those bits are coming out tonight; a funny, deeply caring, deeply hurt young man with a vast capacity for kindness.

When he came into the elevator, he looked positively miserable and so, so defeated. Like he had been stomped on and ground down. You wanted to make him smile, a real smile, but then you couldn’t stop at just one, and now here you are. You know about his and Snow’s “arrangement”. You also know you can treat him better than any of the “clients” do even when they’re trying, and you wonder if he’ll let you treat him like that.

Your intense stare has Finnick shifting, feeling a few degrees hotter than before.

“Can I kiss you?” you finally ask, voice low. If there’s one thing being a Career has taught you, it’s to grab at any opportunity you see. Finnick swallows. “Yes,” he croaks. “Please.”

You lean forward and capture his lips, one hand on the back of the couch and the other securely in your lap. You’re close and leaning into him, but not holding him. The restraint surprises him at first. But he’s grateful for it and he relaxes. He sinks into the kiss, his own hands venturing to fist in your shirt collar and hold you there. You let him lead, let him feel your arms and touch your face and chest, but never move your own hands from their position, just pour your all into your lips against his.

The lights flick on. You and Finnick snap apart like a rubber band snapping back into shape. It’s Mags. She looks between you both with wide eyes before a mischevious smile breaks across her face. “No, no, Mags,” Finnick protests.

She winks, grinning, and flicks the lights back off. She exits.

Finnick groans. “I’m never going to hear the end of it.”

You grin and wink. “Well, if you’re never going to hear the end of it, we may as well make it worth it, right?”

His seafoam eyes lock on yours, an eyebrow lifting. He smirks. “Oh? What do you have in mind?”

Leaning forward, you whisper in his ear, “I’d like to suck you off.”

All thoughts leave his head and all blood flows straight to his groin. For once, he’s speechless. No one has ever offered this before. All the people he spends time with want his attention on them, want him to fawn over them, wants him to boost their egos with his attention. And if they did off, he’d wonder what they want in return. Exactly like he’s wondering right now. He should ask, but his brain is too focused on the thought of your lips around his dick. Does he really care what happens after as long as he gets what he wants, first?

At his silence you withdraw. “Only if you want me to, of course,” you add. The last thing you want to do is make him uncomfortable.

“Yes,” he hastily replies. “Yes. I’d love you to suck me off.”

That affirmation is all you need. You kneel in front of him and slowly unzip his pants, revealing plain boxers beneath. Finnick watches you, his heart pounding. With agonizingly slow movements, you touch his length and guide it through the gap in his boxers. He grips the cushions of the loveseat as you lick up the underside of his member, from the base to the tip. Your tongue is deliciously wet. Finally, you take Finnick into your mouth and work him slow, slow, slow. One hand balls into a fist on his leg and the other slips in your hair. He moans, a low sound that barely reaches your ears.

You can’t believe no one has ever done this before. You’ve barely started, and he looks absolutely wrecked and so goddamned pretty. His head falls back against the loveseat and he lets out a shaky breath.

Fisting him, you take your mouth off to quip, “Have I made the Finnick Odair speechless?”

He huffs a laugh, meeting your gaze. “Just wait until I have you on your back and—oh.” His words end in a strangled moan as you suck his head. You ease him a little bit further into the rhythm before you deep-throat him. By then both hands tangle in your hair and he’s whimpering and trembling, muscles taut. “Fuck. Fuck.” It’s so warm, so hot, feels so, so good.

He comes shortly after, cock hot and stiff in your mouth, his entire body rigid. As he comes down from his high he melts into the couch, both his hands gently tugging at your head. “Get up,” he pants. You comply and stand, bracing your arms on either side of his head, and kiss him. There it is again, that restraint.

“Touch me,” he moans. “Please.” He might combust if you don’t.

You obey and cup his cheeks. His hands mimic yours, holding your face to his while you kiss. His stomach feels warm and body completely relaxed, for once completely in the moment, his brain pleasantly quiet.

He opens his eyes. “What can I do for you?”

You press your forehead to his, cheeks hot. God, there’s so much you want to do to him, with him, but not tonight. “You can go to bed and get a full night’s sleep,” you answer.

What? He knows he heard you right, but what? “That’s not what I meant,” he says hesitantly. You chuckle and kiss his cheek.

“I know.” You brush back a lock of his hair. “And as much as I’d like to fuck you or you fuck me and make out well into the morning, you taking care of yourself is what I want the most. Can you promise me you’ll do that?”

Finnick can’t help the laugh that escapes him. “I promise.” He feels almost bashful. How do you know what he needs? Beneath your soft gaze he feels vulnerable and open, and while it’s foreign, it’s not unwelcome.

You smile at him, a brilliant smile that lights up the night. “Thank you.”

You’re thanking him. You just gave him a blowjob and you’re thanking him. Who the fuck are you?

After exchanging a few more minutes of sweet nothings, you leave to head to your floor. Finnick stays on the loveseat a while longer, smiling, watching the twinkling lights of the Capitol. The content expression gradually falls from his face and he sinks into the reality that is his life. At least this has been a sliver of good in what is his constant parade of masking for the Capitol. Maybe he can have a few more of those slivers when you’re around. He’s certainly going to try to grab the chances when they present themselves.

• ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ •

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seeingivy · 5 months

Text

out of the woods

satoru gojo x f!reader

**part of my satoru as taylor swift songs series

satoru gojo finds hope in the simplest things.

because despite it all, if anyone was allowed to fall straight into despair – if anyone had the right to – it would be him.

but he simply can’t.

only because every time he finds himself at the edge of the cliff, there’s always something pulling him back.

a bratty six year old with spiky hair, his smiley older sister, or you – his beloved coworker that he, by the grace of god, charmed right into his hand. a bored salesman, an over-enthusiastic pink-haired high school student, and the ingredients to rice balls.

he supposes that’s why the words don’t hit him. that every other time, there were two, four, or six hands pulling him back. but the depths of this won’t impact anyone the way it would impact him. that he’d fall on his own this time.

there would be a pair of hands missing.

all he can think about is that the chairs in the ward are rather uncomfortable, that all hospitals have the same, shitty fluorescent lights, and that megumi’s probably wondering why the two of you haven’t called him to check on him after his mission yet.

that you would have made some shitty joke about sitting in his lap instead of sitting in the chairs, that you’d complain the lighting in the room was too dingy to take any good pictures, and that you’d call megumi the second you knew he was home.

“so when will she remember?” gojo asks.

shoko looks at him, steely eyes staring back into his, and it’s enough to push him over the edge. he can tell there won’t be any pulling this time.

“we have no idea of knowing when she’ll be out of the woods. it could be three days for all we know.” shoko states.

“or three years.” gojo states.

shoko swallows hard.

“or three years.” shoko affirms.

satoru realizes there’s three stages to it, two weeks after the fact.

first, the slow walk to the edge of the cliff, with everything looming below him – the mere fact that he could sense that something went wrong when kugisaki returned from her mission alone.

second, the pause right at the edge, where the rocks begin to crumble under his feet. there’s a wide expanse in front of him, ice cold water that he could plunge into at any second, and he can slightly feel himself leaning forward – someone telling him straightforwardly, shoko’s warm hands on his shoulders when he explained.

and lastly, the plunge. it’s cold air obliterating his ears as he falls, the crush so hard that he can barely stand when it happens. and he makes no efforts to stand back up once he’s fallen, because for all he knows, his limbs are broken – when he has to sleep in his bed without you for the first time.

satoru gojo finds hope in the simplest things, until he doesn’t. because the woman he’s spent four years loving doesn’t even remember who he is.

the first thing you remember is icy blue eyes. in some object permanence, child-like type of way, it’s the only thing that makes you feel safe now.

that and the fact that he’s always here.

“okay, y/n. can you tell us what you remember?”

shoko is standing across from you – gloved hands on her clipboard as she holds her pen firmly in her hand.

“my name is y/n l/n. i’m a jujutsu sorcerer and a teacher at jujutsu tech. i lost my memory three months ago on a mission with one of my students when i got struck by a curse.”

you try not to visibly wince. or make long pauses. only because it makes shoko and satoru’s faces droop a little more when you do. recalling the memories gets easier, more repetitive as time goes on, but it still feels like a warm sting rod is hitting the raw parts of your brain at times.

“do you remember the student’s name?” shoko asks.

“kugisaki.”

“okay, that’s good. do you know who we are?” she asks.

the instruction is helpful. the questions feel like a soft guidance – like each of your memories has been placed in a room that you need to unlock and that she’s presenting you right at the doorstep of the room.

“you’re shoko. my doctor. but we were friends before in school.” you add.

“that’s right. what about him?”

you look over at satoru, at the way he’s stiffly sitting in the chair next to you.

every time you look at him, the smiles are always genuine. soft and sweet – always accompanied with a gentle nod to encourage you. but you can tell from his posture, from the darkness under his eyes, that it must bother him all greatly.

though, he has every right to be upset, to be tired.

“that’s satoru. he was here when i woke up. and he’s my husband.”

shoko scratches on the clipboard before she gives you a smile.

“that’s good. anything else?”

you frown.

“no. no, i don’t think so.” you murmur.

she gives you a nod, as she sets the clipboard down. and when she starts rummaging through her drawers, you feel your heart sink at what comes next.

“wait. wait, can we not do that today?”

shoko looks back at you, quickly flickering her gaze to satoru, before she meets your eyes again.

“it’s really best if we try little by little, everyday. i need to be careful when we use reverse cursed technique on something so malleable as a brain and memories, so it needs to be in small amounts. but consistent. we can’t skip and lose precious time.”

you look over at satoru, reaching for his wrist. his skin is searing and warm under your fingertips, and you squeeze hard over his pulse point.

please.

satoru gives you a nod, before sighing, and looking back up at shoko.

“can i talk to her alone?” he asks.

shoko gives him a curt nod, before shuffling out of the room and sliding the door closed. you look back at satoru, as he gestures for you to talk.

“i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to put you in an awkward position with your friend….i mean, our friend.” you clarify.

“s’okay, bug. what’s wrong?” he murmurs.

satoru watches as you squint your eyes, an elongated pause in your response.

one of shoko’s directions to him was to try to sprinkle normalcy in as much as he could – nicknames, memories, common phrases – in hopes that something would trigger in your memory and help you remember.

he’s supplied you with each story when you don’t remember and he can tell that you’re trying to commit them all the memory again. to retrieve the memories that he’s told you.

“bug.” you state.

“that’s right.”

“because…”

“we were on a mission and-” satoru adds.

“and the curse was a bug.” you finish.

satoru smiles brightly. it almost feels like praise, when he looks at you so warmly. when you can remember something.

“big insect type thing.” satoru confirms.

“and i hate bugs. so you started calling me bug because…”

you frown.

“i forgot why you did that.” you state.

satoru scoffs.

“it’s called flirting, princess. though, that was never your forté.”

you smile.

“you have horrible game.” you respond.

you can tell that the tiny gripes make satoru really happy. you recall shoko telling you a story about how it related to something from before, but you can’t really recall exactly what it was. regardless, the smile you always get feels good.

“oh yeah?” he asks.

“mhm. you think calling the girl you like a bug is flirting?” you state.

“girl i love. and you can’t even accost me for it, because it worked. we’re married, idiot.”

the blunt admission makes your chest hurt. only because you can tell that he means it earnestly.

and that it must be painstakingly true – that satoru gojo loves you – because he’s still sitting here three months later, when you can barely remember his name at times. or the fact that you clearly must have been in a very loving relationship with him if he’s still sitting here with you when he could, and maybe should have, run.

you squeeze hard on his pulse point again, your hands still curled around his wrist. he uncurls his hand from your hold before locking his fingers in with yours and squeezing your hand back.

“you’re like a space heater, satoru.” you state.

“it’s part of my charm. when we still slept in the same bed, you’d always put your ice cold feet on my legs and try to steal my warmth.” he states.

“and you’d let me?” you ask.

he smiles.

“and i’d let you.” he affirms.

you swallow hard.

“sorry. i’ll do the treatment thing. i just hate how it makes me feel after. s’kind of like…my brain got fried? and sometimes it jumbles things up more so i feel like i’ve barely made any progress. and….and i want to remember you all really badly i just-”

you feel the warmth on your cheek this time, his nimble fingers transferring warmth to your face this time.

“we know. just take your time, okay? we’re not going anywhere.”

six months after the fact, satoru throws you a birthday party.

it’s hard not to hold onto him like a tether when you go out in big crowds – the overstimulation nauseating at times. and it makes your chest swell that he firstly, realizes it, and second, refuses to leave your side because of it. you lock your fingers in with his as he lightly guides you through each of the people in the room.

“y/n sensei!”

you swallow hard as four people present themselves to you, a harsh squeeze on satoru’s fingers. he obliges quickly, a hand on your back as you shake your head. pink hair, brown eyes.

“you’re choso?” you ask.

you watch his face fall quickly, before he shakes it off.

“no, no. this is choso. but you were close, he’s my brother! we talked about him last time i saw you.” he responds, gesturing to the boy at his left.

“right. i’m sorry. it’s todo.” you state.

“no, no. he’s todo.” the boy responds again, this time gesturing to the boy at his right.

you feel another hand loop around you – cold hands on your shoulders – that you welcome. that you easily recognize as one of the other constants, besides satoru.

“ignore yuuji. and i promise, it’s just as confusing when you can remember it too.” megumi states.

you smile.

“are you flattering me, megumi?” you ask.

satoru reaches forward, and much to megumi’s dismay, flicks his forehead.

“you’re such a mama’s boy.”

“oh, leave him alone, satoru.” you state.

the group of them smile, even the ends of megumi’s mouth upturning, as satoru feigns shock by clutching his hands to his chest. you give them all a smile as they break up into their own conversation.

satoru gestures for you to follow him into the kitchen and you give the group of them a smile as you walk away. you push yourself onto the counter as satoru reaches for the birthday hat and a tiny little book before he makes residence in between your legs.

“okay, you ready, bug?” he asks.

“for?”

“you love to take pictures. lots of them. you’re kind of the sentimental type. so…”

satoru hands you the book as you start to flip through all the pages. each one has four little polaroids in it – of you and him, megumi sprinkled in here, with little captions on each of them.

new year’s 2021

megumi’s sweet sixteen

shotgun wedding :D

“shotgun wedding?” you ask.

“we had a quickie court wedding before we actually got married because we couldn’t wait. anyways! we have to-”

“wait.” you state.

satoru stops, bright blue eyes staring into yours expectantly. you can tell that he’s trying to brush it off quickly from the way he’s jittery as he shakes the camera in his hands.

“i know you don’t like to remember memories like this one because they make you sad but-”

“they don’t make me sad.” satoru states.

“don’t- don’t lie. i can hear you crying sometimes in the other room after we talk. and i feel bad but, but maybe it’ll click or something?” you ask.

satoru sighs, before giving you a nod. and he recounts one of the best days of his life, in as much detail as he can.

“what if we got married tomorrow?” you ask.

satoru looks over at you, your glasses still perched on your nose as you work through the crossword puzzle in the newspaper. satoru always thought that it was a little bit corny that you did it right before you went to bed, like a little elderly lady, but knew better than to poke fun at your “enrichment time in your enclosure” as you so poignantly termed it.

“huh?” he asks.

“like. went to court. got married.” you shrug.

satoru reaches for the newspaper, before quickly shoving it straight to the side – not short of any protests from you – as he crawls straight into your lap, nose only a few inches away from yours.

“i was still doing that, idiot.” you state, cupping his face in your hands as you squeeze hard.

“you want to marry me?” he asks, voice laced with excitement.

you scoff.

“are you dumb? we’re engaged, satoru.”

“but you want to marry me. tomorrow?” he asks.

satoru watches as you pause, eyes so full of love that it makes his chest hurt.

“dunno. was just thinking about it.”

“and?”

“stop trying to get me to say something cute.” you state.

“so you admit it. there’s something cute to say?”

you smile, before pinching the bridge of his nose.

“no.” you state.

“c’mon. we’ll do it tomorrow if you tell me. i’ll wear a nice suit, you can wear that silky white dress you have. have sushi with megs after, he can be our witness. pick up rings, get a bouquet on the way.”

you smile brightly.

“you’ll really do it?” you ask.

“of course. s’nothing i wouldn’t do for you.” he whispers.

you lean forward, pressing a warm kiss to his lips.

“i just don’t like that you’re not my husband already. and i get the whole big wedding and clan members and blah blah blah but…i just want to be married to you now. i don’t really care how it happens, i just want that day to be here already.”

satoru smiles, before leaning forward to press a kiss to your cheek.

“it’s settled then. we’re getting married tomorrow, bug.” he responds, before pushing off of you and shuffling under the sheets.

you smile hard, following suit by placing your glasses on the nightstand and curling up into his arms.

“s’bad luck to sleep in the same bed? because that means i’ll see you tomorrow morning?” you ask.

“maybe. but who's going to keep your feet warm if i don’t sleep next to you?”

“very good point, satoru gojo.”

you look back down at the picture, pressing your fingers against the polaroid wrapped in the plastic. the two of you stayed true to your word – a plain but white dress and a simple suit – with your arms wrapped around his neck as you both cheese into the camera.

you note that glittering necklace around satoru’s neck, as you press your fingers to the chain around yours. you had the necklace when you woke up, the only other jewelry you had besides the golden little band around your ring finger – which you assumed was the wedding ring satoru gave you when you got married.

“you have one of these too?” you ask.

satoru smiles, before reaching into his shirt and pulling out the necklace. and surely but not, he has the same necklace as you with the little paper airplane charm hanging at the end.

“we couldn’t find rings on the way to the courthouse. so you picked these shitty airplane necklaces from one of the stands on the way there.” he states.

you smile, as you look down at the picture.

“and we ate with megumi after?”

“uh huh. he got really mad at us after. you kind of whined that you didn’t get a first dance so i decided to move all the furniture around to make room and kind of broke his science fair project.”

“oh my god. no wonder that kid hates you.”

“shut up. we stayed up fixing it. and he doesn’t hate me. he actually danced with us a little bit too – though it was definitely against his will.” satoru adds.

“you tease him too much. leave the poor baby alone.” you state.

satoru’s eyes go wide as he places his hands on your shoulder, the look on his face so excited as he smiles.

“y/n?”

you raise your eyebrows.

“yeah?”

his face falls just as fast.

“oh. nothing.”

you frown.

“what happened?”

“nothing. it’s stupid, i just-”

“it’s not stupid! what is it?” you ask.

he looks at you, before pulling back a little.

“i thought you remembered for a second. that’s always the line you use when i tease him – leave the poor baby alone.”

you frown.

“sorry.” you whisper.

he shrugs.

“s’okay. it’s kind of nice if you think about it.” he states.

“how?”

“well. it’s obvious that big parts of us are shaped by the people that are around us. your best friends, your co-workers, your partners.”

you reach for his hand.

“you wonder how much of it is the stuff you experienced that makes you act the way that you do and how much of it is actually you, you know?” he states.

“exactly! sorry, i didn’t mean to interrupt, but-but i think about that all the time. like if i can’t remember, will i still be the same person i was before? the person you all loved? or if this is going to change me so drastically that i’ll be someone new.”

satoru smiles.

“the former.”

“huh?”

“you’ll be the same person you were before. cheesy as hell, but the cuteness will make up for it.”

you roll your eyes.

“how are you so sure?”

he pauses, before placing his hand in your palm.

“one of my favorite things about you is that you were, or are, really compassionate. we always joked that megumi was our kid, but really. you were like his mom – understood him in ways i didn’t, always knew what he was thinking and how to fix it too.” he states.

“yeah?”

“and one of the things megumi hates most is when i tease him in front of yuuji. s’got a big crush on him.” he states.

you look over at the two of them, at megumi and yuuji laughing at choso three feet away and try your best to recall every memory of the two of them together. if megumi always smiled so brightly when he was around him.

“you got real mad at me. told me to leave your poor baby alone. you’ve always cared for him in that way and i can tell that you still do. you might not remember him, but he’s still your baby. you might not remember who you are but you’re still you.”

it’s silent.

“you’ll be the same. you’re still going to be the girl i loved and you’re still going to be my wife.” he whispers, warm tears in his eyes.

his voice wavers on the latter part of the statement.

almost like he doesn’t believe it.

you place your hands on his shoulders and squeeze hard.

“satoru.” you whisper.

he shakes his head.

“sorry. i didn’t mean to say it like that, i just-” he states.

you place your hands on his cheeks and squeeze hard.

“from the type of guy you are, i can tell that i probably fell in love with you all over again hundred times in one day.”

satoru smiles, a tear spilling as you quickly wipe the wetness on his cheek.

“this isn’t any different. i’m not sure about a lot of things, but-but this i am. your eyes are the first thing i remember from when i woke up. i’m almost positive they’ll be the last thing i remember when we’re old wrinkly people too.” you murmur.

satoru wraps his arms around you, tucking your face into his neck, as he squeezes you hard into his frame. you can feel his heart racing underneath you, his pulse point rapid as he slowly breathes in. and surely, it comes to a standstill.

“what did i say? told you that you’d still be cheesy as hell.” satoru states.

you scoff.

“does the cuteness make up for it?” you ask.

“a hundred percent.” satoru responds, before pressing a kiss to your cheek.

satoru takes the picture, after snagging one of the little party hats and securing it on top of your hair, and quickly scribbling on the developed polaroid before tucking it into the book. satoru runs off to the little cake, quickly lighting all the candles as you take the quick second to look down at the picture.

a very forgetful bug turns twenty-six <;3

“hey, i’m home!”

satoru shuffles back into the apartment, arms aching and sore from his mission, as he rummages through the kitchen. the fridge is empty leave for a few condiments and he makes a mental note to order takeout.

“did you want to order something?” he calls out, halfheartedly registering you walking towards him as he shuts the fridge door.

he’s taken aback when he feels your arms wrap around him from behind, your arms nearly squeezing the breath out of him.

“ow, bug. you’re hugging too hard.”

he turns around only to find tearfilled eyes staring back at him, immediately dropping his phone in his hand to cup your cheeks.

“woah, hey. you okay?” he asks.

you shake your head, bringing your eyes to your sockets to rub the wetness away. you can barely say the words, the pounding in your head and racing in your chest not coming to the standstill.

“what’s wrong?” he asks.

“do-do you remember the first time you cried in front of me?” you ask.

satoru pulls back, albeit a little bit confused, as he frowns.

“um. let me try and think. maybe at our real wedding?” he asks.

“no. no, that’s not right.” you whisper.

“huh?”

“you cried for the first time when megumi got hurt when he was out with nobara and yuuji. he didn’t call either of us afterwards and you were sad that maybe he didn’t need you anymore.” you state.

satoru hums in response.

“that’s right. i totally forgot. idiot got twenty stitches and didn’t think to tell either of us.”

you deflate, putting your hands on his shoulders as you squeeze.

“satoru.”

“what?”

“you forgot. but i remembered.” you whisper.

satoru brings his hands to your sides, squeezing hard as you see his eyes - icy blue - filled with warm tears.

“y/n. are-are you serious?” he whispers.

“yeah. s’all kind of fuzzy and i have a really bad headache but i remember you and-”

you can barely finish your sentence because satoru’s hands – now cupped around your neck – have pulled his face flesh with yours and he’s pressing his lips to yours. it’s enough to shock you to your core, nearly stumbling in his arms, as you feel his tears start to fall onto your face.

“you’re back. you-you remember me.” he whispers.

“yeah. yeah, i am. i do.” you whisper, nearly hiccuping from the lack of air reaching your lungs from the tears.

you rest your forehead against his, the two of you heaving in tandem as satoru runs his hands all over you – on your cheeks, your biceps, the length of your back.

“i know that it was still you before. and-and i still loved you the same, of course i did – you’re my wife. but you don’t know how fucking happy i am that you’re-”

“you’re insane, satoru. i can’t believe you…you stayed. and you-”

“you’re mine. of course i stayed.”

“i know, but…i didn’t even remember you. and now that i look back on it, sweetheart. you must have been so upset and alone, you…you barely even smiled. or made any shitty jokes. i’m sorry i didn’t notice.”

“you didn’t have anything to go off of. s’okay.”

you wrap your arms around his neck, his face tucked into yours as you run your hands in his hair and softly murmur into his ear. you’re not sure when the crying starts, when he starts trembling under you, but you have every intent to keep him in your arms as long as he needs to.

“satoru, you did so good.”

“yeah?”

“so good, sweetheart.” you murmur.

satoru frowns.

“i tried really hard to keep it together for you. i-i didn’t want to make you feel bad or that-”

“you did keep it together for me. but you can let go now, i’m here to catch you.”

it’s enough to leave him sobbing in your arms, your quiet whispering in his ears not reaching him. he’s positive that he’s made you say it a hundred times at this point – that you love him – and he’s more than thankful that you’re willing to oblige.

satoru realizes there’s three stages to it, two weeks after the fact.

first, it’s the hand being extended to him. it was so quiet that he barely realized it at first – the fact that you were trying to pull him back, the first second that you remembered. warm hands squeezing his frame, the same way they always had.

second, the realization. the water he was drowning in was so cold that he could barely remember the extent of the warmth and when it returned, it was so sweltering that he could barely remember that he was freezing a few seconds ago. sweet honey eyes – being so full of love that he can see it pouring out of your eyes when you look at him.

and lastly, being pulled up. it’s warm air tickling his skin this time – the smell of your perfume, cold feet on top of his when he goes to bed, a kiss on the forehead, two little airplane necklaces, matching golden wedding bands.

satoru gojo finds hope in the simplest of things. in the mere fact that you were looking at him.

an: our very first 1989 song!!! I thought ironically that it would be very funny if I did an amnesia au to out of the woods. and then I accidentally wrote all of it.

taglist: @invisible-mori @porridgesblog @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @luna0713hunter @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks @torureadz @dreamxiing @mamamamamarga

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thekitsunesiren · 2 years

Text

I love Danny adopted by the Batfam. Really, I do. But picture: Danny adopted by Gotham herself.

Gotham: the city that has become the definition of death, doom and destruction. Even with her favored Dark Knight and his robins helping to make her city safer, the pit of despair and everlasting gloom doesn't seem to let up.

But then, he entered her city.

A young man with black hair and blue eyes that reminds her so much of her hero and some of the children that he's adopted over the years. But there was more to him. So much more.

This child wasn't no human, she could sense that straight away. The cold that surrounded him and caused even the darkest of her shadows to reach out to him for more of the power it leaked out. The smell of death that came off the child in waves. But she Gotham knew that this one wasn't a killer, no. Somehow this child has died and came back. Just like her Jason. How strange. Then she saw it. His transformation. A ghost. This poor child has knocked on deaths' door and has continued to walk among the living as if nothing has changed.

But even then the city didn't have time to mourn for the loss of this child's life when she felt the power that radiated off of him. Eyes as green as the lazarus pits, with the powers that she's never seen before. On human or meta.

Yet the thing that stuck with Gotham the most, was how he was so protective. This wasn't even the boys city, yet more than once Gotham witnessed him helping out where Batman and his family could not. Whether it was stopping the robbery late at night, fighting off a few goons or even helping the homeless youths.

Gotham saw him as he really was: a hero, a savior, but most importantly, alone. So she made the decision: The Batman and his robins could only do so much, she could always use someone to talk to.

Yes. Danny would be hers. Gotham's Guardian of the unseen. Gotham's Ghost.

-----

So basically I had a idea of Gotham just sensing Danny as soon as he stepped into Gotham and going like: Him. I want that one.

Of course, Gotham had manifested into her own ghost form over all of the years. The death, gloom, and maybe even pits had their own hand at that. But she knew that she couldn't do much, even with a physical form, the most that she could do is watch and protect from the shadows. So when Danny arrived to Gotham, it was like her own prayers were answered.

A fighter, strong, kind, and in need of something to drive his need to protect. He was perfect!

So, she did the best that she could:

Using the little abilities to tug him towards the trouble.

Making sure wherever he lives is safe and free of any intruders.

And when Batman becomes aware of his presence, hiding him in the depth of his shadows that not even the Dark Knight could see into.

Does Bruce become mad with paranoia over the possible meta that seems to be everywhere and gone before he arrived as if he lived there his whole life? Yes. Does she care? No.

Because Gotham knows that with time, Danny will come to his own terms to make himself known to Batman and they will become a force unstoppable!

But for now, Gotham needs her ghost to help and protect when Bruce can't, so she won't be letting Danny go anytime soon.

#danny phantom #dc x dp #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc prompt #dpxdc #fanfic prompt #dp crossover #dp au

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xxspringmelodyxx · 4 months

Text

Why Her and Not Me?

Gojo Satoru x F!Reader x Geto Suguru (Angst) part V

Hello my lovely readers! Here is part V! I also want to let you all know that I will be making multiple endings for this story because all of you deserve to be happy, so I will do just that🫶🏽 As for this part, I hope you all enjoy it! <333

If you want the other parts, they are in my masterlist :))))

As Toru wandered aimlessly down the quiet streets, his footsteps echoed hollowly against the pavement. Each step felt heavier than the last, weighed down by the burden of his own heartache. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions, his thoughts consumed by memories of you and the pain of your absence.

With each passing moment, the weight of your absence pressed down on him like a suffocating blanket, suffusing his every breath with a sense of longing and despair. He had tried to distract himself, to bury his feelings beneath a facade of indifference, but the truth was, he couldn’t escape the emptiness that gnawed at him from within. It was as if a part of him was missing, lost in the void that had opened up between you.

Toru barely slept, barely ate, barely did anything other than wander the streets in a daze, lost in a fog of sadness and regret. He knew he should take better care of himself, that he owed it to himself to try and move on, but the thought of you lingered in his mind like a ghost, haunting him at every turn.

Every corner he turned, every street he walked, seemed to taunt him with memories of happier times, of moments shared and laughter shared. But now, those memories felt like nothing more than cruel illusions, mocking him with their fleeting sweetness.

His heart felt heavy in his chest, a leaden weight that threatened to drag him down into the depths of despair. He had never felt so lost, so adrift, as he did in that moment, with the realization of just how much he missed you crashing over him like a tidal wave.

He wanted nothing more than to see you, to hear your voice, to feel your touch, but he knew that was impossible. You were out there somewhere, living your life without him, and the thought filled him with a profound sense of loneliness and regret.

And as he trudged on through the empty streets, his aura radiated a palpable aura of sadness and longing, a silent plea for the universe to bring you back to him.

——

Toru loved you, the truth was undeniable: his heart belonged to you, and you alone. He couldn’t continue to deceive himself, couldn’t continue to pretend that everything was okay when it clearly wasn’t. And so, with a heavy heart and a sense of resignation, Toru made the final decision to end things with Osaka.

Their relationship had once been filled with laughter and joy, but now it felt like nothing more than a charade, a hollow imitation of the love and passion he felt for you. He couldn’t bear the thought of leading Osaka on any longer, couldn’t bear the guilt of knowing that he was betraying her with every passing day.

And so, one fateful afternoon, Toru found himself sitting across from Osaka, his heart heavy with sorrow as he tried to find the words to explain why he couldn’t be with her anymore. She looked at him with confusion and hurt in her eyes, her brow furrowed in disbelief as she struggled to comprehend what he was saying.

—flashback—

As Toru sat across from Osaka in the bustling cafe, his heart weighed down by the heavy burden of the truth he was about to reveal, he couldn't help but notice the sadness in her eyes. It was as if she already knew what he was going to say, as if she had seen the signs and understood the depths of his feelings long before he had even admitted them to himself.

"I'm sorry, Osaka," Toru began, his voice barely above a whisper. "I... I can't do this anymore. I can't continue to pretend that everything is okay when it clearly isn't. I... I have feelings for someone else, and I can't ignore them any longer."

Osaka's eyes widened in understanding, her lips trembling slightly as she fought to hold back her emotions. "Is it... is it because of her?" she asked softly, her voice barely audible over the din of the crowded cafe.

Toru nodded, his heart aching with regret. "Yes," he admitted, his voice barely more than a choked whisper. "I've tried to deny it, tried to push aside my feelings, but... but I can't. I love her, Osaka. I've finally come to realize that everything that made me happy…everything that made me love life…it was all because of her… and I can't keep pretending that I don’t want her."

Tears welled up in Osaka's eyes, but she managed to nod, a small, sad smile playing at the corners of her lips. "I know," she whispered. "I've seen the way you look at her, the way your eyes light up whenever she's around. And as much as it hurts, I... I understand."

Toru's heart clenched with guilt at the pain he saw in Osaka's eyes, the knowledge that he was causing her so much hurt and heartache nearly overwhelming him. But amidst the sorrow and regret, there was a sense of relief, a weight lifting from his shoulders as he finally spoke the truth he had been hiding for so long.

"I'm so sorry, Osaka," he murmured, reaching out to take her hand in his. "I never meant to hurt you, but I... I can't keep pretending that my feelings for you are enough. You deserve someone who can give you their whole heart, and I... I can't do that."

Osaka squeezed his hand gently, her gaze soft and understanding. "I know," she whispered. "And all I want is for you to be happy, Toru. Even if it's not with me."

And in that moment, Toru felt a sense of gratitude wash over him, a deep appreciation for the kindness and understanding that Osaka had shown him. He knew that he would never forget her, never forget the love and support she had given him during their time together.

As Osaka got up to leave, her shoulders hunched with grief but her head held high with dignity, Toru couldn't help but feel a sense of awe at the strength and resilience she possessed. And as he watched her walk away, he knew that he would always be grateful for her understanding and kindness, even though his heart belonged elsewhere.

—end of flashback—

That happened almost three weeks ago, and here he was, still down as ever because he still hasn’t gotten a chance to speak with you. As he rounded a corner, his gaze fell upon a familiar figure sitting alone on a bench in the park. It was you, your silhouette illuminated by the soft glow of the streetlights, and for a moment, Toru’s heart leaped in his chest.

Without a second thought, he changed direction and made his way towards you, his steps quickening with a sense of urgency. He needed to see you, to talk to you, to finally get some answers to the questions that had been plaguing him for months now.

Relief washed over him at the sight of you, but it quickly turned to dismay as he couldn’t help but notice the way your shoulders tensed, as if bracing for impact. His heart clenched at the sight, the realization that you were actively avoiding him hitting him like a ton of bricks. He had hoped that seeing you again would ease the ache in his chest, but instead, it only seemed to exacerbate it.

His footsteps faltered for a moment before he mustered back the courage to approach you. Each step felt like a heavy weight dragging him closer to the inevitable confrontation he had been dreading. He cleared his throat nervously, his heart pounding in his chest as he finally reached your side.

“Y/n,” he called out softly, his voice trembling with emotion. “It’s… it’s been so long since we’ve talked. I’ve missed you.”

You glanced up briefly, your eyes flitting over him before quickly returning to the ground. You instantly began to feel your heart race. You cursed yourself mentally, hoping that all of those feelings you had for him were gone once and for all, but to your surprise, they weren’t.

“Has it? I didn’t even notice.” You spoke plainly, going on your phone. Even you knew that was a low blow.

Your reaction was almost imperceptible, a slight shift in posture that spoke volumes. Toru’s heart sank at your words, his mind racing with a million different questions and doubts. What had he done wrong? Why were you treating him like this? Had he somehow pushed you away without realizing it?

“Y/n,” he repeated, his voice pleading, “please, I need to know what’s been going on with you. I miss you so much, and it’s killing me not knowing why you’ve been avoiding me.”

But you remained stubbornly silent, refusing to meet his gaze or acknowledge his presence. Toru’s frustration boiled beneath the surface, his patience wearing thin as he struggled to contain his emotions.

“Y/n, come on,” he begged, his voice cracking with emotion. “I can’t take this anymore. I need to know why you’ve been ignoring me. What did I do wrong? What did I do to deserve this?”

You flinched at his words, the guilt gnawing at your conscience as you struggled to find the right words. But before you could respond, Toru pressed on, his voice growing more desperate with each passing moment.

“I thought we were friends, Y/n,” he continued, his voice trembling with emotion. “I thought we meant something to each other. Maybe…even more than that… But if I was wrong, if I’ve just been fooling myself this whole time, then please, just tell me. Tell me the truth, even if it hurts. Because obviously, you’ve been ignoring me for the last several months and I’m getting tired of it!”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you met Toru’s gaze, the pain and confusion written plainly across his face. You opened your mouth to speak, to tell him everything, but the words caught in your throat, choked back by the weight of your own fears.

Toru’s eyes searched yours, pleading for some semblance of an answer, but you turned away, unable to bear the intensity of his gaze any longer. And in that moment of vulnerability, you felt a surge of anger rise up within you, a resentment born from years of unrequited love and silent suffering. After all this time, he still doesn’t know about how you felt. How much you loved him. How much he hurt you that day. And how much it continued to hurt every time you saw him with Osaka.

“I’m sorry, Toru,” you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t do this right now. I need some time alone.”

But Toru refused to let you off that easily, his frustration boiling over as he grabbed your arm, forcing you to face him. “No, Y/n,” he insisted, his voice tinged with desperation. “We need to talk about this. I can’t just let you walk away like this, not when it’s tearing me apart inside.”

You tried to pull away, to free yourself from his grasp, but Toru held on tight, his grip unyielding as he searched your eyes for some sign of understanding.

”Let me go, Satoru. Now.” You spoke to him, your voice completely monotone and full of venom.

Toru’s heart cracked at the sound of his name rolling off your tongue with such detachment. It was as if you were a stranger, a cold wind blowing through the warm familiarity you two once shared.

“Y/n, please,” Toru pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper. “Don’t shut me out like this. I can’t bear it.”

But you remained resolute, your gaze fixed on the ground as if the earth held the answers to all your troubles. Toru’s heart ached at the sight, the pain of your rejection like a physical blow to his chest.

“Please, just talk to me,” Toru implored, his voice trembling with emotion. “Tell me what I did wrong. Tell me why you’ve been avoiding me.”

Your silence was deafening, a wall of ice erected between you and Toru that seemed impossible to breach. But before he could do anything further, you spoke again, your voice cutting through the silence like a knife. “Let me go, or else.”

Toru recoiled as if struck, the pain in your words lancing through him like a blade. He had never heard you address him so formally, so coldly, and it sent a shiver down his spine. He let go of your hand, seeing you begin to walk away. That is when he snapped.

“I…I don’t understand,” Toru stammered, his voice rising as his frustration began to take hold of his emotions. “What did I do to deserve this? What did I do to make you hate me so much?” He yelled, tears beginning to fall down his face.

Suddenly, you stopped in your tracks, your heart beginning to break as well. The tears welled up in your eyes as you met Toru’s gaze, the pain and anguish written plainly across your face.

Toru’s heart clenched at the sight of your tears, each drop a dagger in his already wounded heart. He watched helplessly as you approached him, your finger trembling as you pointed it accusingly at him.

“Y-you wanna know why I’ve been acting this way? Why I’ve been ignoring you this whole fucking time?!” you yelled, your voice raw with emotion.

Toru’s breath caught in his throat as he waited for your answer, his heart pounding with anticipation and dread.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as the weight of your words hung heavy in the air between you. “It’s because of you, Toru and well…me and my stupid feelings,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “Because of what you said to me that day…about loving Osaka.”

Toru’s eyes widened in surprise, a flicker of understanding dawning in their depths. He opened his mouth to speak, but you held up a trembling hand, silencing him before he could interrupt.

“I know you probably didn’t mean to hurt me when you told me you loved Osaka,” you continued, your words tumbling out in a rush. “But it… it broke my heart, Toru. It shattered me into a million pieces, and I didn’t know how to put myself back together again.”

Toru listened in stunned silence as you poured out your heart, each word a dagger to his own soul. He had never realized the depth of your feelings for him, the pain you had been silently carrying all this time.

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat threatening to choke off your words. How could you possibly explain the depth of your feelings for Toru, the longing and heartache that had consumed you for so long? How could you make him understand the pain of watching him love someone else, knowing that he would never return your affections?

“But It’s about more than just what happened with Osaka,” you finally admitted, your voice trembling with emotion. “It’s about how much I loved you, Toru. For so long, I’ve loved you with every fiber of my being. There wasn’t a day that went by where I didn’t think of you, where I didn’t want to be with you.”

You continued.

“That’s why I would always make you your favorite desserts. I knew you loved them and so I made them to make you feel loved…to make you feel happy…to hopefully help you understand just how much I cared for and loved you…but you never got the idea.” Your heart was breaking more and more with each word you spoke. “You never once sat back and wondered why I did all of that for you. Of course I did it because I enjoy it…but it made it even more enjoyable knowing that it was all for you. You were the reason I looked forward to each new day. The reason as to what made everything better. And it… it hurts so much to know that you don’t feel the same way about me. And what’s worse is that…I still love you…even though I’ve tried to force those feelings away…after months of telling myself I don’t love you anymore, convincing myself of those words…I knew it was nothing but a lie.” You finished, still looking at him, seeing his widened eyes.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked up at him, the floodgates of your emotions bursting open with a force you couldn’t contain. You felt exposed and vulnerable, laid bare before Toru.

”Y/n…I-“

Gently, he squeezed your hand, silently conveying his remorse and his determination to make things right. He knew he had a long road ahead of him, but he was willing to do whatever it took to earn back your trust and your love.

“I-I never knew,” Toru choked out, his voice thick with emotion. “I never realized…” he stammered, his voice choking with emotion. “I never meant to hurt you, I swear. I never wanted to cause you pain.”

You shook your head, tears streaming down your cheeks unchecked. “I know, Toru. I know you didn’t mean to,” you said softly. “But the truth is, you did. And I’ve spent so long trying to come to terms with that, trying to move on and forget about you, but I just… I can’t.”

But you shook your head, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. “But It doesn’t matter now, Toru,” you said, your voice tinged with sadness and resignation. “What’s done is done. You are with Osaka…and there is nothing I can do about it.”

“I-I broke up with Osaka,” Toru interrupted, his voice loud and clear.

You felt your heart skip a beat as Toru’s words hung in the air, the weight of his confession hitting you on the head. You blinked, trying to process the sudden shift in the conversation, the unexpected turn of events leaving you feeling disoriented and confused.

“What do you mean?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, your heart racing in your chest. “Why would you break up with Osaka?”

As Toru’s voice wavered with emotion, you could sense the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air, each syllable laden with meaning and significance. He took a deep breath, steeling himself to articulate the whirlwind of thoughts and feelings that had consumed him in recent months.

“It was after you stopped talking to me,” Toru confessed, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes searching yours for understanding. “I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, I couldn’t do anything…I was a mess, Y/n. And I couldn’t figure out why until I realized…it was because of you. I realized that I needed you.”

You felt a pang of guilt twist in your chest at his words, the realization that your actions had caused him so much pain weighing heavily on your conscience. But even as you grappled with your own emotions, you couldn’t help but hang on to his every word, desperate to understand the depth of his feelings.

“I kept replaying everything in my mind, every moment we’ve shared together,” Toru continued, his voice growing stronger with each passing word. “And it hit me like a bus. I’m in love with you, Y/n. I’m so in love with you that it hurts. Everywhere I turn, it always brings up a memory of us together.”

The raw honesty in Toru’s confession washed over you, leaving you reeling in its wake. You had never imagined that he could feel that way about you, never dared to entertain the possibility that your feelings for him might be reciprocated.

“I tried to hide my feelings for you while I was with Osaka…to pretend that everything was fine….but I can’t keep pretending anymore, Y/n. I can’t keep hiding how I feel.”

As Toru poured his heart out to you, baring his soul in a way you had never seen before, you felt a surge of conflicting emotions wash over you. Part of you wanted to throw yourself into his arms, to finally acknowledge the love that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long. But another part of you hesitated, still grappling with the scars of past heartbreaks, unsure if you were ready to take that leap of faith again.

You felt a lump form in your throat as Toru’s words washed over you, the enormity of what he was saying sinking in.

“I love you so much,Y/n… and I am so sorry that it took me this long to figure it out” He started, his hands becoming clammy.

Toru reached out tentatively, his hand hovering in the air between you as if unsure whether to touch you or not. “Please, Y/n,” he pleaded, his voice breaking with emotion. “Give me a chance to make things right. I’ll do anything, I swear.”

You looked up at him, your eyes filled with a mixture of pain and longing. “I don’t know if I can, Toru. You really hurt me, even if you didn’t mean to.” you admitted, your voice barely audible above the soft hum of the evening breeze.

“Plus…Suguru and I have been getting close…and I…I think I’m falling for him as well. I can’t explain it, but there’s something about him that draws me to him, something I can’t ignore. So not only do I still have feelings for you…but I also have feelings for him…and I’m just so lost and confused. I don’t know what to do anymore.”

The weight of your confession hung heavy in the air, the silence stretching between you like a chasm.

When you finally mentioned Suguru, Toru’s heart clenched with a mixture of jealousy and resignation. He had suspected as much, had seen the way you looked at Suguru when you thought no one was watching, the subtle shifts in your demeanor whenever he was around. But hearing you say the words out loud, admitting to falling for another, felt like a blow to his chest.

But he pushed back those feelings as he heard and saw your current state. He felt a surge of guilt wash over him as he saw you. This wasn’t about him right now; it was about you and the pain he had caused you. He couldn’t bear the thought of being the source of your hurt, and the realization weighed heavily on his heart.

He refused to give up hope. He knew that he had to earn your forgiveness, that it wouldn’t come easily or quickly. But he was willing to do whatever it took to make things right between you, to prove to you that he was worthy of your love.

“However,” you started, still looking into his eyes.

“I know that I can’t keep ignoring you like this. And…I have been missing you for some time as well. So…how about we just start back at square one and see where that takes us?”

Toru listened intently, his heart pounding with anticipation as you spoke. He understood the gravity of your words, the weight of the pain he had caused you. But as you suggested starting anew, a spark of hope ignited within him, lighting up the darkness that had clouded his heart.

He nodded, a sense of determination coursing through him. "I would like that…a lot actually," he replied, his voice soft yet resolute. "Let's start fresh, take it one step at a time."

As the words left his lips, a sense of relief washed over you. Despite the hurt and the uncertainty, you couldn't ignore the flicker of hope that blossomed within you. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for the two of you to find your way back to each other. To love and cherish one another and be one.

With a tentative smile, you reached out and squeezed Toru's hand, feeling the warmth and strength it offered, missing how good it felt. As you two walked side by side, the weight of the past lifting from your shoulders, you felt a renewed sense of optimism fill your heart. Maybe this wasn't the end of your story with Toru, but rather the beginning of a new chapter, one filled with hope, forgiveness, and the promise of a brighter and happier future.

_____________

Taglist: (If you’d like to be added, just let me know with the username you’d like to be notified and Ill gladly get you added <3, again, thank you for all the support)

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dustymeadows-if · 5 months

Text

Dust particles flow in the air, shimmering with golden light of the sun. They rise to the sky, equally golden and hazy. Your mind is empty. There is no single memory in your head. Only one thought is ringing in your brain.

You must walk forward. Walk until your feet begin to bleed. Walk until your shoes fall apart.

And for some reason you can't oppose this thought.

This is your road to Damascus.

Dusty Meadows is a short interactive story set in post-WW1 world. It's a small psychological adventure that will take you through the scarred European fields. Wander the abandoned trenches, scorched forests, poisonous valleys and silent, deadly no man's land.

You don't remember anything. The feelings, however, still linger. Feelings like pain, grief and bitter longing. Your body is mutilated, but you feel no physical pain. It's your soul that aches. It's as if an important piece of it was heartlessly ripped off. This pain urges you to go forward. The answers might lie just behind the next hill or river. Your life depends on returning. Returning your soul. Returning your memories. Returning your life. Returning home.

That is, if there's anything left for you to return to at all.

Customizable MC: choose your gender, appearance, personality and name (if you can remember it, of course).

Meet the cast of various charachters: you're not the only one wandering and seeking these desolate lands. Talk to other wayfaring souls, listen to their stories. Maybe even share the same road and experience strangely deep bond with some of them...

Return your memories: remove the shroud from your past. Remember how you got here. Remember what hides behind the scars on your body. But be wary: some memories are forgotten for a reason.

Explore different locations: travel through the remains of war, learn what happened there and remember what binds you to these places.

Maintain your sanity: nobody said that battlefields are safe even after the war. Your mind is as scarred as your body, and sometimes memories crash like tidal waves. Whether you'll hold the line or succumb to the dark depths - is up to you and you only.

Tired Infantryman - Basile (M)

This man could be a definition of word "apathy". Everything about him is grey: both literally and figuratively. Dressed in grey-bluish trenchcoat, covered in grey dust, he looks at you with dull grey eyes. Even in his dark brown hair you can see grey strands, although he's still pretty young. He doesn't seem to be interested in anything around him, except for his cigarettes. His left arm is missing, and you can't help but wonder what's the story behind this.

Frozen Operator - Johann (M)

He is... a weird man. Tall and muscular like someone working in the fields all day long. But at the same time his skin is the palest and the coldest you've ever seen, and his eyes are sunken as if he was spending many sleepless nights doing paperwork. He's also the only one without any visible wounds, which is very unusual to see in this place. Johann seems like a kind and outgoing man, but he hides something deep in his heart.

Blind Journalist - Gelsomina (F)

Upper half of her face is covered with bandages, but even so you can tell she's a very beautiful woman. Dark blood stains over the place where her eyes were never seem to fully dry. She is much alike that blood: restless almost to despair. This woman will either find peace or die, and the least seems to be most likely. Losing her eyes was a hard hit: she can't see, she can't write, she can't do her job which had always meant life for her. She lost every reason to live, but the fire of her stubbornness is blazing hard, keeping her alive and eating her from inside at the same time.

Wayward Nun - Jolan (F)

She is a strange sight. Dressed in nun robes which covers her whole body, she also wears a gas mask which she refuses to ever take off. This woman is like a walking fortress of her own, cutting off every direct contact with the outer world. She barely speaks, preferring simple gestures, or rather, not communicating at all. You don't know what she looks like, what she sounds like, but here's one thing you know for sure: guilt is seeping through every crack of her thick defense.

Demo - TBA

#interactive fiction #interactive novel #interact if #if wip #dashingdon #choice of games #hosted games #dusty meadows

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the-kaedageist · 8 months

Note

congrats on hitting your follower milestone!! for a CR short fic prompt, how about shadowgast where essek is learning to coexist with caleb's cats? :)

I'm emerging from the abyss to answer this prompt 11 months later, but I hope you enjoy! I also believe someone else had Caleb having a cat named Gretchen before me and my brain borrowed it from someone; apologies, it just fit so well.

“Ah,” says Caleb when Essek arrives for their weekly meeting. “Since you were here last, I have acquired another housemate.”

This feels like a somewhat alarming statement. Thankfully, the suspense is not held for long - a moment later, a calico cat makes her way daintily into the room with them, stares up at Essek, and hisses.

“Gretchen,” Caleb scolds, along with a long string of Zemnian that Essek’s rudimentary skills can’t hope to follow. He’s just about mastered ‘please’, ‘thank you’, and some of the major foods; nowhere near native-speaker-speaking-to-his-cat level.

Essek tries not to be offended at being hissed at, even as he can feel his own ears flicking back behind his head in annoyance. “I have done nothing to you,” he says to the cat.

“She is scared,” says Caleb, reaching down to scritch the calico’s ears. She glares at Essek but submits happily to the pets. “She will get used to you.”

The cat eyes him like a particularly unpleasant thing that has been dropped on the floor. Well, Essek thinks, he has certainly had nemeses before. What is one more?

The situation does not improve from there. Every week, Essek Teleports to Caleb’s house, and every week, Gretchen acts as though Essek has offended her to the very depths of her being. (It probably doesn’t help that the third time this happened, Essek hissed back.)

By the end of the first month, Essek despairs that he will ever have a good relationship with Caleb’s animal companion.

At night, when he’s downstairs studying and Caleb is asleep, Essek sneaks back upstairs to find Gretchen curled up at Caleb’s side, purring happily. When Caleb is reading on the couch and Essek is attempting to cook in the kitchen, he peeks in to find Gretchen stubbornly attempting to seat herself in the middle of Caleb’s book, to Caleb’s laughter.

It seems that although they loathe one another, he and Gretchen share a love of the same man. Surely there is common ground they can find.

One night, Yasha and Beau come over for dinner. Gretchen is ambivalent about Beau (although no hissing is involved), but she waltzes right up to Yasha and starts headbutting her ankle.

“Oooh, hello, little beauty,” Yasha says, reaching down to scratch her cheek. Gretchen stares up at her adoringly. Essek also stares at her, aghast and betrayed.

“What is this?” he asks like a spurned lover.

“What is what?” Beau asked. She glanced over at Yasha. “Oh, the cat? She loves Yasha. For obvious reasons, of course.”

Essek rolls his eyes. “I thought she did not like strangers.”

Beau blinks. Her eyes narrow and her mouth stretches into a smirk. “Does the cat not like you, Essek?”

“No,” Essek denies quickly. “I don’t know what you are talking about.” He quickly makes an exit to the kitchen, making excuses about checking the soup, before he can be pestered further.

That is when he begins to wonder what he’s doing wrong.

First, he tries dressing more comfortably for his trips to Caleb’s. Perhaps, Gretchen is intimidated by the points on his mantle and the finery of his robes – is that a thing cats care about? The only cats Essek has ever encountered have been moorbounders, and usually they care more about the quality of their meal.

Unfortunately, even in loose pants and a soft shirt, Gretchen still glares and hides from him on his next visit. Caleb seems to appreciate the change though, pulling Essek into his arms and cuddling with him more than normal, and Essek makes a mental note that perhaps more comfortable clothing was in order regardless of the cat’s opinion.

Next, he attempts to determine if Yasha has bribed the cat for her love. He does research and discovers that cats are known to love meat and fish. The next week, when he Teleports into Caleb’s house, he pulls out a handkerchief with some pieces of fish stashed inside and lays it out on the floor. Gretchen does her usual routine of glaring at him while growling before she slowly approaches to sniff the food.

Caleb looks amused. “You brought a present?”

Essek shrugs, feeling heat on the back of his neck. “She is part of your family.”

Gretchen eats up every morsel of fish, to Essek’s relief. However, once her meal is complete, she goes back to hissing and glowering as though no offering had ever been made.

Essek is starting to feel a bit offended. This feels personal.

One night, he cuddles up with Caleb, dejected, as Caleb strokes his hands through Essek’s hair and coils a curl around his finger. “You are quieter than usual,” says Caleb. “Is something wrong?”

Essek glances up at him through his lashes. “Gretchen does not like me.”

Caleb says, “hmm” and continues to stroke Essek’s hair. “I have thought much about this, and I think she sees you as another cat.”

This is not something Essek has ever considered. “Another cat?” he echoes, surprised.

Caleb presses a kiss to his hairline. “You have cat-like mannerisms. You are prickly and picky and beautiful. Does it surprise you at all?”

Essek thinks for a moment; perhaps it does make some sort of strange sense. “So if I am another cat, how do I win her affection?” he asks at last.

“Well,” says Caleb, “ideally I would have put you both in adjoining rooms and let you sniff each other under the door.”

Essek gives him an unamused look. “Caleb Widogast, I am not actually a cat.”

Caleb tousles his hair with a small chuckle. “Ja, of course. Then I would say…be around her. In, ah, her orbit, so to speak. Give her space, but be present and let her get used to you.”

“I have been present,” says Essek petulantly. “She does not like me.”

Caleb shakes his head. “You either approach her head-on or you give her a wide berth – understandable, but I do not think it helps.” He lays his forehead against Essek’s curls. “You are stubborn. You will find a way.”

And slowly, Essek does.

He continues to bring Gretchen fish, but retreats beyond arm’s reach so that she can eat without feeling threatened. He is careful to seat himself within her watchful gaze when she is near, so that she will know his location. He stops trying to befriend and starts letting her be, and Caleb had been right – once he gives her the space to get to know him on her own terms, Gretchen finally, finally begins to thaw.

The first day she approaches him after her fish treat and lets him tentatively reach down to scratch her ears, Essek feels as though he’d been rewarded with a monumental gift. He meets Caleb’s gaze – and Caleb smiles sappily at him, as though all he’d ever wanted for his life was Essek and a cat, in this little house, with everyone getting along.

“You see?” Essek says to Gretchen. “I am not so bad.”

She turns around to show him her butthole and trots away with her tail held high. Essek laughs. “Perhaps we still have some ways to go.”

Caleb wraps an arm around his shoulders. “It takes time,” he says sagely, and Essek can do nothing more than laugh exasperatedly and press a kiss to his cheek.

#shadowgast #essek thelyss #caleb widogast #critical role #critical role fanfiction #ficlets #my fics #also just for the record the follower milestone in question was hit in JANUARY

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riririnnnn · 1 month

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One thing I'm very happy about Chapter 261 is that it answered my age long question of why Kaiser specifically chose Isagi out of all the Blue Lock-ers.

Until and unless you have NOT binged read the whole U-20 arc or ARE a person from the BLLK Universe, you can't truly understand the true impact of Isagi's goal in the soccer industry of his universe.

It was something hella phenomenal and it helped Blue Lock to showcase its true potential—there's a reason why Isagi earned the nickname of, "Heart of Blue Lock."

And now considering Kaiser:

He is someone who made his whole self about destroying others' dreams and seeing Isagi, a new rising star in the same industry as him, it's easy as hell to understand why he chose Isagi out of everyone—you getting me?

And I do think that Isagi has been the only one who hasn't completely bowed down to him which easily explains his frustration. Isagi continues to bounce back again and again, much stronger each time than the previous, which obviously irritates him since his whole self is based upon bringing despair upon other soccer players which in turn makes it seems to us, readers, that he is obsessed with Isagi.

It also explains why he thinks he is inferior to Isagi if he doesn't win over him.

He is a true reflection of his father after all.

But I don't want him to team up with Isagi.

I have seen the above thing happen, at least, twice: Barou and Yukimiya, and we all know what happened after that.

Kaiser is such a well written character, so I think it'll be an injustice if the same thing happened to him like the above mentioned character.

I just don't want him to be overshadowed by Isagi—it'll be an insult to his in-depth character writing.

#blue lock #bllk #michael kaiser #isagi yoichi #雪 ranting

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telail · 3 months

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never alone ⋆.ೃ࿔* c.s

Pairing: Choi San x Gn!Reader Tags: 1k wc, established relationship, angst, comfort, depression, fluff, ateez oneshot 🎧- Runaway by AURORA note: a little message from me to any of my readers or anyone who happens to come across this that you're never alone even in hard times. Luv u all <3 -TAE

In the quiet corners of your mind where shadows dance with light, there lay a battlefield that is scarcely spoken of.

To the world, you move with grace that belies the turmoil within, your smile which has turned itself into a well practiced mask that hides the depths of your struggles becoming nothing more than a display to those outside of your head.

Never knowing that beneath the surface there's a constant war against invisible adversaries– anxiety, depression, and a haunting sense of isolation that clings to you like a second skin.

As of lately each day has become a journey through a fog of internal conflicts, where every step forward is a victory hard-won against the chains of your own mind.

Your world has become one where your mental health is both the monster under your bed and the unseen weight upon your shoulders, a reality that you force yourself not to face.

In these moments of solitude, you battle with your thoughts, the darkest of which whisper of inadequacy and despair. Yet in the midst of this silent war, there lies a thread of resilience– a faint but unwavering light of hope.

Choi san, someone you’d met earlier on in your life. He was a kind soul with a gentle heart that somewhere along the line he’d trusted you to handle with care.

You’d crossed paths with each other when you were just teenagers and from there to now San had turned himself into something you could lean on through a bond sealed with genuine love and trust.

He pays close attention to you throughout the time that you two spend together, it’s always been an attribute of his that you’ve admired. How attentive he was when it came to people he cared about– able to pick up on even the smallest interests and quirks within a person just because it matters that much to him.

Which is why it wasn't surprising when he was the first to notice the subtle shift in your once vibrant spirit.

Where your laughter used to reside, which used to fill his ears and shoot straight to his heart leaving it with a warm fuzzy feeling– had now been replaced by a somber quiet. He noticed.

Sitting at the edge of your shared bed, San reached for your hand, feeling the coldness of your flesh and the silver diamond laced band wrapped around your ring finger. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice a gentle anchor in the quiet of the room.

You look up at him, your eyes vacant of any signs of interest though you try so hard to make it look otherwise. “Hi,” you replied, a ghost of a smile passing your lips.

“You’ve been.. quiet– lately. More than what I’m used to. What's been going on in that pretty head of yours hm?” He encouraged, squeezing your hand.

You hesitated, letting out a shaky sigh as you tried your absolute best to decline the feeling of tears making their way to your eyes immediately at the pure sincerity in his voice alone.

“I don't- it's- it’s like I'm lost in a fog, San. And- I can't see the way out– I- everything just feels like it's everywhere all at one time and it's too much– it's too much for me and I don't know how to handle it because I don't think I’ve ever felt so intensely before.”

San moved closer, nodding his head to give you a sense of reassurance that he heard you, that he was listening.

“You’ve been having a hard time for a while haven't you?” he asked, opening his arms slightly as an invitation to which you nodded and pushed yourself into his embrace.

“I know, I’m sure it’s been difficult baby.” he whispers, kissing the top of your head before continuing “Thank you– for telling me, giving me the chance to reassure you that you're not alone in that fog and that I’ll be here, to help you find a way out of that fog no matter how long it takes- we’ll find a way out, together.”

“You sound so.. sure. How do we really know it’ll all work out, or how much more of this I'll have to take?” You mumbled, leaning into his embrace.

“Because it always does, always. Life gives you clouds but sometimes they get in the way and turn into this inconvenience we call fog. It makes it hard to see and it makes things feel all damp and icky but it clears up, and things dry. I’ve been through some fog myself in life but you made me feel as though it wasn't just me trying to blow it all away on my own. So now it's my turn to do the same for you.”

By now you’d stopped fighting the tears nicking at your tear ducts to be released, a few spilled from your eyes as you asked, “But what if it doesn't lift what if it's just too much, even for the both of us?”

San swiped his fingers gently across your cheeks, ridding your tears with his gentle touch while leaving soft kisses in their trails.

“Then we’ll walk, and we’ll keep walking and we’ll keep blowing until it does. And on days when it feels too much we’ll stand still. There's no rush as long as it's me and you angel.”

You only found yourself nestling closer to him, finding solace in his words. “I’m scared,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah? That makes two of us.” He says, flashing you his pretty dimpled smile. “Life is scary, but we're in this together.” He said, his tone becoming serious again as he lifted your head, your gaze meeting his.

“We’ll light up whatever darkness you’ve been facing with thousands of little moments of joy and more.. I promise we’ll make it through.” He reassured you, something he was just so unfairly good at.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you felt a genuine sense of hope. In San’s unwavering support you found the courage to face your struggles, not as insurmountable barriers, but as part of your journey together.

A testament to the healing power of love and companionship. Through dialogues of heart and moments of silent understanding, you remind each other that even in the deepest fog, no one has to walk alone.

#ateez #kpop #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez fic #ateez choi san #choi san #angst #comfort #depressing shit #ateez fluff #ateez oneshot

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ikkosu · 3 months

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quick angsty little drabble

mouse-verse

YOU don't like how they stare at Prowl.

Like he's fire, that every touch his pede lands, broils a warmth too strong, it flourishes into a malevolent ire.

"He's unstable, mouse." Ratchet said, not sparing you a look as he scribbles away on his datapad. He termed it so simply, so casually, it was as though he's lecturing you on the basics of Cybertronian anatomy, all over again.

"He's not unstable. He's different."

You're roosted by his desk, fists clamping, unclamping, easing up the temper pressurized in your chest.

"Look." He swivels around to face you, arms crossed. "I know you like standing up for the guy. You're the closest person he's got. I get it. I understand. But please, next time when a pede's about to connect to someone's skull — don't, don't try to go in for the save, alright?"

"I wasn't protecting him." You can't help but bite back.

He kneads his face. "Then what were you trying to do kid, if you're not desperate for a one-way trip to Primus with a broken skull. "

"Making a point. Stating my case. That those bots who punch him as they please get nothing out of that."

Ratchet regards you for a moment. His optics were gentle and firm as a silent understanding passes over his face. He wants to say something but can't.

"It's nothing big. in a few week's time, he'll be the same again."

"But he's not the same. He's never the same, Ratchet."

Why does everyone think he won't be affected?

He's got his back to you, kneeling on the ground, helm in his servos. You stood at the doorway, sympathy pulling your features taut as you observe the way his doorwings fall to the side. A broken bird. No wings to fly.

He seemed so alone in his habsuite. So small. He could curl up into a ball, if he could. Lights, close to darkness. Space, empty. The middle is Prowl. Just Prowl and only Prowl.

"Control." Was all he said. Almost like a breath of a whisper. "I've got no control. Not even with my subordinates. Not even with myself. Nobody believes me."

His helm lifts up until it falls back, optics to the ceiling. His digits are curled out like he's trying to grasp something that's not there.

"I do." You said.

"You don't."

"I do."

Surprised pulled his features when you're close, fingers a gentle mould around his cheek. . He's not surprised by your touch or by your close proximity — he's used to them

No, what he's surprised is how contorted your expression was, how his spark twists much as how despair twists your face.

Prowl maintains the rigidity of his expression. His servos falls to his lap though and finds himself leaning a little into your touch.

In a fit of boldness, you lean up and pressed your forehead against his. Electricity crackles at the touch and colors burst into your vision.

At first it was sickly black. A storm, broiling in the depths of his mind. Tendrils curl out and nip in an attempt to deter you away. But you won't be. When you eased in your own thoughts of verdant foliage, rustic charms of sceneries and anything that's warm —he loosens visibly and let's his helm fall into your shoulder.

"You're good to keep around." He murmers, drawling against your uniform before becoming still in your hold.

You hug him tight. The thick lump on your throat is hidden by your smile.

"Yeah..."

It was better not to tell him how charred his mind was.

#i know i promised uh unholy but i want to hug him so much #its not really an au but i like the odea that maube humans can exchange frequencies w bots too #transformers #maccadam #transformers x reader #transformers idw #prowl x reader #idw prowl #ikkoasks #idw prowl x reader #header by @cafekitsune

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starjedi86 · 2 months

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Keep you safe

Summary: Hunter comforts you after a nightmare.

Pairing: Hunter x female reader

Prompt: “Of course I'd keep you safe."

Warnings: Angst but fluff at the end.

Word Count: 1288

Authors Note: Thank you @ghostofskywalker for organizing this exchange!

This is my gift for @frostycatblr-fandom-files for the @cloneficgiftexchange . I hope you enjoy it!

The Marauder cruised through the vast expanse of space, its hull creaking softly as it traveled through hyperspace. Inside, the hum of the engines provided a comforting backdrop to the stillness of the night. All the members of the Bad Batch were fast asleep, having completed one of Cid's missions while simultaneously trying to go unnoticed and hide from the empire.

You lay curled up on the small pillow in your bunk, seeking deep rest after a day filled with both emotion and danger. Hunter, your faithful love and protector, lay beside you, his presence always a source of comfort in the darkness. Despite the dangers that lurked beyond the Marauder's walls, within its confines, you found solace in each other's arms during moments of rest like this one.

As sleep finally enveloped you, you were thrust into a world of darkness and despair: a nightmare born from the depths of your subconscious. You found yourself in a darkened place, escaping from an unseen adversary.

Despite your efforts to run as swiftly as possible, their pursuit grew ever closer, their voices gradually becoming discernible: the Empire had finally tracked you down. Glancing back, you saw your loyal companions running alongside you, particularly Hunter, urging you to hasten your pace. But no matter how swiftly you attempted to move, escape remained elusive.

Suddenly, a misstep sent you tumbling to the ground, vulnerable to the approaching troopers. Desperately, you struggled to break free, only to witness Hunter's capture alongside you, surrounded by overwhelming numbers.

Then, in a cruel twist of fate, the sound of gunfire shattered the night, and you watched in horror as the love of your life fell, grievously wounded and seemingly lifeless. Each image carved itself into your mind with vivid clarity, intensifying the fear that gripped your soul.

Suddenly, you felt someone shaking you urgently and desperately, the images of the nightmare becoming increasingly blurry. With a gasp, you were ripped from the depths of sleep, your heart racing in your chest. Blinking away the remnants of the nightmare, you found yourself staring into Hunter's concerned eyes. His hand kept shaking your arm, trying to rouse you from the terrible dream that had gripped you.

You knew that he had likely heard your murmurs and cries while you slept. After all, his sleep was never deep, and his heightened senses often made him aware of your distress before you were fully awake.

"Cyare, are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft with concern.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you met his gaze. In that moment you were still reeling from the horrors of the very real nightmare you had experienced.

"Come here," he said, still looking at you with concern but also gently attempting to comfort you.

You automatically moved towards him, wrapping your arms around him tightly and burying your face in his chest as you cried, seeking solace from the terrors that haunted your mind. Hunter's arms enveloped you, holding you close as he whispered soothing words.

“It was just a dream,” he murmured, his voice always a constant source of comfort that always helped calm you whenever your thoughts spiraled into chaos. "You're safe now, I promise."

Hunter continued to hold you close, his arms a steady anchor amidst the storm of emotions raging within you. You sobbed quietly against his chest, the remnants of the nightmare still lingering in your thoughts.

Gradually, as his reassuring words and comforting presence surrounded you, the tide of fear began to subside, replaced by a sense of security in his embrace.

Minutes passed in silence, broken only by the occasional sniffle as you regained control of your emotions and thoughts. Finally, Hunter gently pulled away from you, his hands cupping your face as he met your gaze with unwavering determination.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked softly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of distress or fear.

You shook your head slightly, unable to find the right words to articulate the horrors that had plagued your dreams. Instead, you offered only a vague description, omitting the details; the mere mention of the Empire was enough to send a shiver down your spine.

Hunter listened silently, his expression a mask of worry as he absorbed each word. When you finally fell silent, he squeezed your hand reassuringly and gently caressed your cheek with the other, his voice firm and resolute.

"I won't let anything happen to you," he swore, his voice filled with determination. "You're incredibly important to me, and I'll ensure they never lay a hand on you, I promise."

His unwavering conviction filled you with a sense of reassurance, dispelling the lingering doubts that had clouded your mind. Whenever you were close to him, you felt loved and protected. However, despite his assurances, a lingering fear still gnawed at the edges of your consciousness.

"But what if they find us?" you whispered, fear resurfacing with renewed intensity, tears welling up in your eyes once more. "And if they capture us, or worse..."

Hunter's gaze softened as he wiped away the tears streaming down your cheeks with his thumb. "I won't let that happen, trust me, cyare," he repeated, his voice brimming with determination.

Meeting his gaze, you searched his eyes for any hint of uncertainty. "If anything happened, you’d always protect me, right?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, a tremor of fear still evident in your tone.

"Of course I'd keep you safe," Hunter replied without hesitation, his words a comforting reassurance in the face of uncertainty.

Feeling a rush of gratitude and love for the man who had become your rock in this turbulent galaxy, you threw your arms around him once more, holding him close as if to anchor yourself in his unwavering strength.

"I love you," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the hum of the ship's engines.

Hunter's embrace tightened around you, his voice a soft murmur against your ear. "I love you too, cyare,” he whispered, his words a tender declaration of his affection.

After a few moments, Hunter gently broke the embrace, his gaze meeting yours with concern. "Feeling any better?" he asked softly.

You nodded, offering him a small smile. "Yes, I'm better now," you replied, your voice still laced with traces of emotion.

Returning your smile, Hunter reassured you once more. "I'll always be here to protect you, cyare,” he promised, his words filled with firm resolve. “I'll never let anyone hurt you. Over my dead body"

Feeling a sense of warmth and gratitude wash over you, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. He returned the kiss, holding you close in his arms as if to shield you from the galaxy's troubles.

Seconds later, as the kiss broke, you looked up at him, gratitude shining in your eyes. "Thank you, love, for always being there for me," you said softly.

Hunter's expression softened, his love for you evident in every glance he gave you. "There's nothing to thank me for," he replied gently. "I do it because I love you."

A surge of affection flooded your heart at his words. "I love you too," you whispered, your voice filled with sincerity.

With that, you rested your head against Hunter's chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your cheek. He tenderly ran his fingers through your hair, a gesture of comfort and reassurance in the quiet refuge of the Marauder.

As you lay there, enveloped in the warmth of his embrace, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, as long as you had Hunter by your side, you would always find peace, protection and solace in his love.

#TBBE24 #the bad batch #tbb #star wars #tbb s3 #the bad batch s3 #hunter #tbb hunter x reader #tbb hunter x you #tbb x reader #sargent hunter #hunter x reader #hunter x you #tbb hunter #sw tbb #sw

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