#it s okay hes alive I ALWAYS WIN.

[opikiquu]

hhahhehehehahgeehshdgshheehehh HAHAHAHAHAH so i did the story

[mononijikayu]

safe and sound — nanami kento.

“Who was that, Nanamin?” Yuuji asked hesitantly. “That was my wife.” Nanami explained to him, putting his phone away.  “It’s better if we talk about it on the way there. Come on, let’s get going. I don’t want the store to close on us.” “Huh?” “Huh? Itadori–kun, are you okay?” The shock is now more evident than ever before in Itadori Yuuji’s face. He was hysterical, stunned and dumbfounded. “What? Nanamin, you’re married? You have a wife? Huh?” "Itadori–kun, please calm down." he began, his voice steady but tinged with an uncharacteristic gentleness. "Yes, I am married."

GENRE: Alternate Universe - Canon Convergence;

WARNING/s: Gen, Romance, Friends to Lovers, Husband and Wife, Friendship, Husband! Nanami, Reader! Wife, Fluff, Drama, Comfort, Falling In Love, Flirting, Fix-It, Humor, Domesticity, Family Life, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Idiots In Love, Light-Hearted, Slice of Life, Pining, Nanami Being A Great Husband;

WORDS: 6.9k words.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: im alive (hurray!!!); i've recovered a little bit, so i wrote this. hurray for the winning poll!!! i'm sorry it took this long to post. i hope you enjoy it as much i did writing it!!! i'll be writing pasilyo and seeing you in the upcoming days~ i love you all <3

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polaroid love | safe and sound

next: just one day

IT WAS ALWAYS SOMETHING, THE AFTERMATH. Every mission felt different. Every mission left a different taste, a different texture, a different feeling. And this wasn’t something that Nanami Kento was unfamiliar with. If he was being honest, he’d experienced all the sorts of emotions that come with being a Jujutsu sorcerer. But it was new to Itadori Yuuji. And it was devastating to watch.

It was almost as though the blond had returned to those days, that misery when Haibara Yu had died. He could remember being just as lost, being just as disgruntled and grievous. Every bit of it returned in a flash as he stood there, watching Yuuji grapple with the fresh wound of loss.

Itadori-kun hasn’t spoken since yesterday, not since they talked. But Nanami Kento had expected it as much. What does one say after such a tragedy? The boy who had died, the one named Junpei—he was a comfort to Yuuji. He didn’t know Junpei as well as Yuuji did, but he knew that he was just a kid. A kid who was robbed of his life, of a chance.

Nanami’s heart ached with a familiar pain as he watched Itadori Yuuji, who was sitting on the ground with his knees drawn to his chest, staring blankly ahead. It was an all-too-familiar sight, one that he had seen reflected in his own mirror years ago. The silence between them was thick, filled with the unspoken sorrow that hung heavily in the air.

He sighed as he saw the boy still at the edge of the school’s steps. His shoulders slumped and eyes fixed on the ground. The battle with the curse Mahito had taken its toll on everyone, but it seemed to have hit Yuuji the hardest. With Gojo Satoru still away on his overseas mission and Gojo Genmei's whereabouts uncertain, Nanami Kento felt the weight of responsibility settling heavily on his own shoulders. He couldn’t leave the boy alone. Not like this. He could see it in the young boy’s eyes. He needs relief, peace of mind. 

Ieiri Shoko and Kiyotaka Ijichi were good people, but Nanami knew they weren’t what Itadori-kun needed right now. Shoko was burdened with her own responsibilities, cleaning up the mess that curse left behind. Her duties as the school's medic were already overwhelming, and adding Yuuji's emotional turmoil to her plate would be unfair. Ijichi, on the other hand, was exhausted from going back and forth between missions, assisting wherever he was needed. He needed rest, not more stress.

Nanami sighed, racking his brain for a solution. No one else was to know that Itadori Yuuji was alive—that was what Gojo Satoru had insisted on. It was dangerous to reveal Yuuji's survival, especially with the higher-ups likely to come after him. They wouldn't hesitate to use Yuuji as a pawn in their political games, and Nanami couldn't allow that to happen.

The weight of responsibility pressed heavily on Nanami's shoulders. If he failed to ensure Yuuji's well-being, it would be his fault. He couldn’t bear the thought of failing another young sorcerer, not after what had happened to Haibara. The memory of his own anguish, his own failure, was still too vivid, too painful.

As Nanami watched Yuuji sitting despondently, he felt a surge of determination. This boy, who had been thrust into a world of curses and death, needed guidance and protection. It wasn’t a sin, to be a child who needs protection from the cruel world. He needed someone, something. To live, to breathe. To be relieved.  And it was up to Nanami to provide that. He would not let Itadori Yuuji fall into despair or danger. 

He approached Yuuji, who was still staring at the ground, lost in his own grief. "Itadori–kun." he said softly, trying to reach through the boy’s sorrow. "Are you alright?”

Yuuji looked up, his eyes empty and haunted. "O–oh, I’m fine, Nanamin. Please don’t worry about me—”

"I’d rather you be honest with me, Itadori–kun." Nanami replied. "I know you're hurting. And I know it feels like you’re alone. But you’re not. You should not burden yourself with this anymore than you should.”

Yuuji’s gaze dropped again, and Nanami felt a pang of sympathy. The boy had been through so much in such a short time. He needed someone to anchor him, to help him navigate the turbulent waters of his emotions and the dangerous world he now inhabited.

“But Nanamin…”

Haibara used to make that face too, Nanami thinks. That same expression of guilt and self-doubt, as if he hadn’t done enough, as if he should have been better. He could see it now, in Yuuji’s eyes. The weight of regret and the burden of what-ifs.

“I just…” Yuuji’s voice cracked, his words trailing off. The pain and uncertainty were clear, and Nanami’s heart ached with understanding.

"Gojo-san trusts you. And so do I," Nanami said, his eyes softening as he met Yuuji’s troubled gaze. "You’ve shown incredible strength and resilience, Itadori–kun. I told you that yesterday. It’s okay to feel what you’re feeling. It’s okay to grieve."

Yuuji’s lower lip trembled, and he bit down on it, trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill over. “But what if… what if I’m not strong enough? What if I fail again?”

Nanami shook his head slowly. “Strength isn’t about never failing, Itadori–kun. It’s about getting back up, even when you’ve fallen. It’s about continuing to fight, even when it seems impossible. You’re stronger than you think, and you don’t have to do this alone.”

The boy looked down, his hands gripping his knees tightly. “Junpei… he was my friend. And I couldn’t save him.”

Nanami’s grip on Yuuji’s shoulder tightened, offering a silent promise of support. “We can’t always save everyone. But we honor them by continuing to fight for others, by becoming better, stronger. Junpei–kun wouldn’t want you to give up. He’d want you to keep going, to keep trying.”

A tear slipped down Yuuji’s cheek, and he wiped it away with the back of his hand. “I just… I don’t know if I can.”

“You can,” Nanami assured him. “And you will. Little by little. You can do it, Itadori–kun.”

Itadori Yuuji didn’t respond immediately, but Nanami Kento could see a flicker of something—hope, maybe—in his eyes. It was a start. Little by little. He could feel the boy’s breathing become more even. He could see his features relax slightly, the tension he had vanishing. Nanami thinks that he’ll cry again, when Nanami isn’t there. But perhaps, this was enough. Seeing him be reassured once again, that it wasn’t his fault.  Maybe one day, Nanami Kento would see him smile genuinely again.

WHENEVER HE SEES YOUR NAME ON SCREEN, HE SMILES.When he heard the familiar melody of his ringtone, Nanami Kento excused himself from Itadori–kun and walked off to a more private area. The buzzing seclusion of Tokyo Jujutsu High’s main stairwell faded as he found a quiet corner. He felt a pang of guilt for not replying to you much earlier. He can only think how much you were thinking about him, with a worried heart. He knew you understood, especially during times when he was on missions. But he thinks that understanding can only go so far. His job after all was something that was hard to grasp with relief. 

But you knew the demands of his work as a sorcerer, when he told you about it years and years ago. He wouldn’t leave the work, you know that much. So you let it be. As long as he came home to you, that was fine. And so, it has always been fine when you don’t get a text between some days. All these years, you had never pressured him about not replying or calling. The same understanding applied when you were engrossed in your manuscripts during writing season. 

At times, Nanami Kento wishes he could be a better husband for you. A husband that you deserve. A husband that’s always there to coddle you, to take care of you, to love you. He thinks about it sometimes, if he were a househusband. He could commit his life to taking care of you, the way you had always done for him. Maybe one day he’d get that chance. Maybe he’d finally be able to return your love for him in a way that was true to loving you.

“Hello, my love.” he greeted, trying to keep his tone cheerful. “I’m sorry for not replying to you sooner.

“Kento, baby! I’m so glad I caught you.” you replied, your voice warm and bright. He loves it. He adores it when he hears that excited pitch. He was happiest when he could hear your voice. “I haven’t heard from you all day.  I hope everything’s been alright at work, baby.”

Nanami Kento hesitated for a moment. He didn’t have the heart to tell you that he had almost died yesterday, that the mission had been far more dangerous than anticipated. He didn’t want to worry you. He doesn’t like it when he stresses you out. You were in enough pressure for your deadlines, he didn’t want to add to that.

“Yes, everything’s fine, love.” he said, forcing a smile even though you couldn’t see it. “Just a bit busy, you know how it is.”

You sighed on the other end of the line, a sound filled with understanding and concern. “I know. I just worry about you sometimes. I’m a worry wart, you know?”

“I know you do, my love.” Nanami replied softly. “But I’m alright, really. I did well and survived. I’m okay. That’s all that matters.”

You sighed tenderly. ‘I suppose so. I think that’s always enough for me. Knowing that you’re well.”

“Exactly. So, my love. Enough about me. Tell me, how was your day? Did you finish your manuscript for the new book?” He thinks that he could see your smile, even from a phone call. If there’s anything that makes him feel warm inside, it’s your smile.

There was a brief pause, and you laughed. “Yes, I did! It was a lot of work, but I finally finished it well. Before the deadline! Which means, no editor coming into our house to take me away from you! I’m really happy with how it turned out. I spent most of the day taking in the words I wrote and making sure everything was perfect.”

Nanami listened as you shared the details of your day, his heart lifting with every word you spoke. Your voice was animated and full of excitement, a soothing balm to his weary soul. He could picture you in the kitchen, eyes sparkling as you talked about finishing your manuscript and experimenting with new recipes. He asked questions, genuinely interested in every detail, finding comfort in the normalcy of your conversation.

As he listened, he was struck by the stark contrast between the world you described and the chaos he had faced earlier. Your day, filled with the mundane but meaningful tasks of editing and cooking, felt like a distant haven from the danger and uncertainty that had engulfed him. It was in these moments, when he could hear the warmth and love in your voice, that he found his grounding.

Nanami Kento often marveled at how deeply he loved you. It was a love that had grown over time, a steady flame that had become an essential part of his existence. Despite the tumultuous nature of his work, you were his constant, his anchor in a sea of unpredictability. Your unwavering support and understanding were the bedrock of his strength, and he cherished every bit of it.

In a world where so much was uncertain, your love was a rare and precious constant. It was the reason he fought so hard, the reason he pulled through the darkest moments. Your voice was a reminder of why he endured the risks and dangers of his profession. It was the promise of coming home to a place where he was loved and valued, no matter how challenging the world outside might be.

As you continued to talk, Nanami Kento felt a profound sense of gratitude. He knew that he could face any challenge, knowing that you were waiting for him at home. Your support gave him the strength to confront the darkness and emerge stronger. And in that quiet, shared moment over the phone, he felt an overwhelming appreciation for you, his partner, his love, and his greatest source of comfort.

“And then I took a break and made that recipe we found a while back!” you continued, giggling at the end. 

You were always like this, when you were excited about something that had turned out well. Nanami Kento thinks that he can only feel like his heart is going to burst whenever you talk like this, like you were sunshine itself in his cloudy days. 

“I can’t wait for you to come home, baby. You would enjoy it well!”

He chuckled softly. “I’m looking forward to it. It sounds delicious.”

You laughed, the sound light and musical. “I’ll make it for you when you get home. Just promise me you’ll be safe until then, okay?”

“I promise, my love. “Kento said, his voice sincere. “I’ll be home soon, okay?”

“That’s great!” You cheered on the other line. “I can cook it right away. I’m sure it will be ready by the time you get home.”

Nanami was about to reply when Itadori Yuuji walked in. The boy with fuschia hair started to speak but quickly realized that Nanami was on a call and fell silent. His face started to turn red as he blubbered a weak apology, as he turned around and started to walk off. Nanami shakes his head and puts his hand on his shoulder. Yuuji looks as though he was going to explode from embarrassment, mouthing to Nanami to let him go. But since he was here, he might as well introduce you to the boy.

Nanami Kento was private about his life. He rarely talked about how he was a proud married man. But it wasn’t because he was embarrassed. If anything, he would like to brag about you to the world. How you had the loveliest singing voice. How your cooking was the best he had ever tasted. How your words were always the warmest to hear. But he didn’t think he needed to share you with the world. Your presence was his sanctuary, a secret haven where he could retreat from the chaos of his duties.

In the quiet moments at home, when the world outside seemed a distant memory, he would listen to you hum a tune as you prepared dinner, your melody weaving a tapestry of comfort and familiarity. The aroma of your cooking filled the air, a symphony of flavors that spoke of love and care in every bite. And when you spoke, your voice gentle and soothing, it was as if the weight of his burdens lifted, replaced by a warmth that radiated from your every word.

Nanami didn’t need to share these moments with anyone else. They were his to treasure in this life, this little life he’s built with you. In your eyes, he found a reflection of the man he aspired to be – strong, yet tender; stoic, yet deeply affectionate. And in your embrace, he found the peace he so often sought in a world that demanded so much of him.

To the world, he was Nanami Kento, a formidable sorcerer and a man of few words. But to you, he was simply Kento, your beloved husband who cherished every moment spent in your presence. And that, he believed, was more than enough.

But he supposed, at least today, you would get known to the world.

“Who was that, Kento, baby?” you asked, curiosity piqued.

Nanami smiled slightly. “This is Itadori Yuuji, a student at Jujutsu High. I’m looking after him right now, for Gojo  and his wife.”

He could feel the pitch get higher. That excitement in your voice, it never gets old to him. “Oh, bring him over for dinner, baby. I’m sure there’s enough food for us to share. Maybe even more.”

Yuuji looked even more flustered, shaking his head slowly. “I don’t want to impose on you at all…”

“Nonsense, Yuu–chan! Can I call you that, Yuu–chan? I think it suits you well!” 

“Y–yes, that’s fine.” The boy uttered back, his lips trembling. “I–I don’t mind at all.”

“My! He sounds like a darling, baby.” You gushed happily. “I’d love to have him over for dinner with us, baby. It would be more lively.”

“Hm, I think so too.” He hums as he looks at Itadori. “Itadori–kun, you are welcome at our house.”

“I….I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything, Yuu–chan. We’ll be glad to have you.” You cooed on the other line. “Oh, baby. I think it’s going to be chilly tonight, so you might as well grab some miso paste before you get back home. It would be nice.”

Nanami nodded. “Alright. Is there anything else that you want me to grab?”

“I think something for the soup! I’ll text you the details.” You say to him. “But, baby, I’ll start cooking in a bit, so I’ll hang up.”

“You should. Remember the last time when you were cooking on call?”

He could feel the heat from your cheeks miles away. That incident will never leave you, you think. “T–that was one time, you know! And it ended on a happier note. It wasn’t that bad.”

“Hm, I suppose so.” He smiles at the phone. “I’ll be home in a bit, with Itadori–kun. I love you.”

“I love you too. See you soon, Kento!” You blew a kiss through the phone, and Nanami felt a little flustered as he ended the call.

Clearing his throat, he turned to Yuuji, who looked both embarrassed and curious. There were few people who knew he was married, let alone how much softer and brighter he became when it came to his wife. And now, Itadori Yuuji seems to be one of them.

Nanami's stern facade cracked ever so slightly as he met the young sorcerer's gaze. Yuuji's eyes were wide with a mix of surprise and wonder, clearly grappling with the unexpected revelation. Nanami could almost see the gears turning in the boy's head, trying to reconcile the image of the strict, no-nonsense mentor with the man who evidently harbored a deep, abiding love for someone special.

Kento sighed, pursing his lips. This was bound to happen, he supposed. The gods would make it happen, one way or another. He had always been careful, keeping his personal life meticulously separate from his professional duties. But perhaps it was inevitable that, sooner or later, the two worlds would collide.

“Who was that, Nanamin?” Yuuji asked hesitantly.

“That was my wife.” Nanami explained to him, putting his phone away.  “It’s better if we talk about it on the way there. Come on, let’s get going. I don’t want the store to close on us.”

“Huh?”

“Huh? Itadori–kun, are you okay?”

The shock is now more evident than ever before in Itadori Yuuji’s face. He was hysterical, stunned and dumbfounded. “What? Nanamin, you’re married? You have a wife? Huh?”

"Itadori–kun, please calm down." he began, his voice steady but tinged with an uncharacteristic gentleness. "Yes, I am married."

Yuuji blinked, processing the confirmation. He finds his composure and starts smiling. "Wow, Nanamin, I didn't know... I mean, you never mentioned it. But I should—Congratulations on your marriage!”

Nanami nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He didn't know what to say as the young fuchsia-haired boy started clapping like it was a newly finished wedding reception. The sound of Yuuji's enthusiastic applause filled the air, an unexpected burst of joy that contrasted sharply with the usual solemnity of their conversations.

This kid has too much energy in him, now that he’s out of that dark headspace, Nanami thought, observing Yuuji's bright, expressive face. The transformation in the boy was remarkable; gone was the haunted look that had shadowed his eyes not so long ago. Instead, Yuuji was brimming with vitality, his spirit seemingly unbreakable despite the hardships he had faced.

But Kento thinks that it’s for the best. It’s hard to be in such a dark place. Levity should be welcomed. In a world where curses and battles often cast long shadows, moments of light-heartedness were precious. Nanami Kento had always believed in the importance of balance, of relief and seeing Itadory Yuuji so full of life reminded him of why he fought—to protect the innocence and joy that still existed in the world. 

"I don't often talk about it.” Nanami says softly. “Not because I am ashamed or unwilling, but because...well, my wife is a part of my life that I prefer to keep private. Our moments together are precious to me."

Yuuji's curiosity seemed to override his embarrassment. "Your wife must be really amazing, Nanamin!" he ventured, his tone sincere and full of admiration. “Your wife seems to make you very happy!”

"My love certainly does." Nanami replied, his expression softening as he thought of you. "My wife is my sanctuary, my peace in a turbulent world. I’m lucky to be blessed.”

Yuuji smiled, clearly moved by the rare glimpse into Nanami's personal life. "That sounds incredible, Nanamin. I think it's great that you have someone like that."

Nanami gave a small nod, a silent acknowledgment of the truth in Yuuji's words. But he cleared his throat, feeling a bit of heat rise to his face as the young boy grinned at him. "Thank you, Itadori-kun." he said, his voice steady yet softer than usual. "Now, let’s make our way. It’ll be hard to find a store open late."

Yuuji’s grin widened, but he nodded obediently, falling into step beside Nanami. "Right, Nanamin! Let’s get moving."

As they walked through the dimly lit streets, Nanami couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. Despite the vulnerability of revealing a part of his personal life, he found solace in Yuuji’s reaction. He thinks his reaction was endearing, too. Nanami Kento thinks that he realizes the extent of the boy’s unfiltered happiness. It was like a deep uncharted ocean. But it was nice, how warm it was, his genuine response. 

Nanami Kento thinks that learning more about being an adult is because of Itadori Yuuji than anything else. And he thinks that’s lovely, and perhaps you will think the same. The children are the future, after all. And their joys will always be  a reminder of the simple joys that still existed, even amidst their perilous world. Perhaps that’s why Gojo Satoru gave him the boy. Gojo’s always been astute about that sort of thing, but Nanami thinks that he doesn’t have the capability of saying it out loud.

"Say Nanamin," Yuuji began, his tone conversational, more casual than before. Comfortable. "What's your wife’s favorite thing to cook?"

Nanami glanced at Yuuji, a small smile playing on his lips. "Well, my wife has a knack for many dishes, but my wife’s favorite to cook is a traditional Japanese meal. My wife loves making it, and I must admit, it’s my favorite to eat. Perhaps more than Danish or Filipino dishes.”

Yuuji's eyes sparkled with interest. "That sounds amazing! Do you ever help out in the kitchen?"

Nanami releases a small laugh, the sound carrying a warmth that feels foreign yet welcome. Yuuji thinks that he feels like he is going to smile wider. Happiness looks good in Nanamin’s face. "I do, when I can. I take days off sometimes. But my wife likes doing most of the cooking. My wife says that I’m more of a hindrance than help, though. But it’s the effort that counts, or so my wife tells me."

Yuuji laughed, the sound bright and full of life. "I bet you’re better than you think, Nanamin. It sounds like you two have a lot of fun together."

Nanami’s expression softened, the memories of their shared moments filling him with a gentle warmth. "We do. I’m happy to say that." he admitted, his voice quiet but filled with affection. "In those moments, everything else fades away. It’s just us, and that’s more than enough."

THE SMELL OF GRILLED SALMON MADE NANAMI HAPPY. You were always a much better cook than him, he thinks. He always looked forward to coming home and having a nice hearty meal when you made it for him. The thought of your cooking brought a soft smile to his face as he and Yuuji navigated through the ryokan. He gently handed the young boy slippers, which was returned by a gentle smile and a whispered thanks.

The weight of the day seemed to melt away as he stepped further into the warm embrace of your shared home. The familiar, comforting aroma of your cooking wafted through the air, mingling with the soft, ambient sounds of home. It was a stark contrast to the chaos and danger he faced daily, a sanctuary that he cherished more than anything.

Loosening his tie, he took a moment to simply stand in the hallway, eyes closed, breathing in the scents and sounds that spoke of love and normalcy. Each time he returned, he was reminded of just how much these simple, everyday moments meant to him. It wasn’t just the meals or the comfort of the house—it was you. Your presence was the balm to his weary soul, the light that guided him through the darkest of times.

As he walked toward the kitchen, he could hear you humming softly to yourself, a tune that brought a smile to his face. He paused at the doorway. He was going to take in this moment. Itadori Yuuji was just behind him. Both of them take in the sound of your tender humming. Kento was sure that you were also gracefully dancing on the other side, expertly preparing dinner. There was something almost magical in the way you worked, turning ordinary ingredients into something extraordinary. It wasn’t just food; it was an expression of your love and care, a daily reminder of how much you meant to each other.

He walks and then stops for a moment, where a wall separates the dining room and the kitchen. Nanami Kento often marveled at how effortlessly you could turn simple ingredients into something extraordinary. The kitchen was your domain, where you wielded spices and herbs with the same precision he applied to exorcizing curses. He watches as your humming intensifies as you move around the kitchen, your movements lively and excited.

There was a particular comfort in the routine you had established together in these many years of marriage. He enjoyed it, every single time. After a long, arduous day, he would come home to the welcoming warmth of your embrace and the tantalizing aromas wafting from the kitchen. You had a way of making every meal special, infusing each dish with a warmth that spoke of your love and care. He knew he was lucky, every single day — to be in your loving arms, to be cared for and adored by you.

As he walked toward the kitchen, he could hear you humming softly to yourself, a tune that brought a smile to his face. He paused at the doorway, taking in the sight of you moving gracefully, expertly preparing dinner. There was something almost magical in the way you worked, turning ordinary ingredients into something extraordinary. It wasn’t just food; it was an expression of your love and care, a daily reminder of how much you meant to each other.

Clearing his throat, your Kento stepped into the kitchen. "It smells amazing, my love." he said, his voice warm with affection.

You turned around, startled, and your cheeks flushed as you saw him standing there. "Kento, baby! I didn’t hear you come in." you said, quickly setting down the spoon you were holding. Then you noticed Yuuji standing behind him, grinning widely, and your blush deepened. "Oh! Yuu–chan, welcome. I–I’m sorry you had to see me in that state! My humming must have been so loud!"

Yuuji gave you a cheerful wave. "Hello, Mrs. Nanami! I didn’t mean to intrude, but Nanamin invited me over."

You wiped your hands on a towel, trying to regain your composure. "It’s no trouble at all. And please, you don’t have to be formal with me. You’re always welcome here, Yuu–chan!"

Nanami watched as Yuuji smiled wider at your response. He stepped closer to you, his presence calming your flustered nerves.  "Your humming was great." he said softly, his eyes filled with affection. “I’m home, my love.”

You smiled up at him, the embarrassment fading away in the warmth of his gaze. "I’m glad you’re home, Kento." you replied, reaching up to touch his cheek.

Yuuji watched the interaction with a happy grin. "You two are so cute, Nana–san!" he said, unable to hide his delight. 

You laughed, the sound light and happy. Kento didn’t know how to feel with the nickname that Yuuji gave you, but if you were happy about it, then he doesn’t think it’s anything to be having a fuss over.  "Thank you, Yuu–chan. Why don’t you take a seat? You must be so hungry! Oh, you should eat a lot. You seem to be getting thin! Come here and wash up. Dinner is almost ready.”

“Thank you, Nana–san!”

You grinned. “Oh, it’s my pleasure! Now go and wash up. Have a good warm one, okay? Ah, and the towels and some clothes are in a cabinet in front of the bathroom!”

Yuuji grinned and waved at you and Kento before he headed over to the direction you pointed and left. Kento crossed his arms and sighed. You were still smiling. “I’m glad you took that boy home. He seems to be such a lovely young man, Kento.”

“Hm. Itadori–kun’s a good kid.”

“Like Megumi–kun, hm?”

“Well, Fushiguro–kun’s a different sort of kid.”

As you turned back to the stove with an agreeable hum, your husband stepped closer, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. You smile as he rests his chin on your shoulder. "Do you need any help?" he asked, his voice a low murmur in your ear.

You leaned back against him, savoring the feeling of his embrace. "Just keep me company," you said softly. "That’s all I need."

“How was your day?”

“It's really good.” You whisper to your husband, satisfied. “I finished my manuscript. I sent it to my editor. I’m just waiting for feedback.”

“What did you do for the rest of the day?” He asked softly, his eyes shifting to look at you tenderly. “I hope you rested. You must have worked through the manuscript without taking a break again, hm?”

It was quick for him to pick up on your ears turning red. He was right. “....I did sleep, you know. I rested a lot after. I knew you would be worried if I didn’t.”

“Ah, so that’s why you didn’t reply to my text.”

“Huh, what do you think I was doing?” You pouted as you looked at him. 

He grins. “I thought you were crying about your 3D man on Twitter again.”

You blush even harder. “Ahhhh, Kento! I wasn’t, I was sleeping!”

“Hm, that’s a win for me then.”

“You tease, you!”

Itadori Yuuji had gotten out of the shower and stopped his tracks when he saw the two of you bantering. It was something interesting to see. So far, he’d only known the blond to be stern and stoic, perhaps serious and strict too. But he could not help but feel warmth when he saw how he is with you, his wife. He could only watch with a mix of admiration and amusement as Nanami Kento stayed close to you as you finished preparing the meal. 

At times, Yuuji could not help wondering if his mother and father had ever done something like this. If he was being honest, he doesn’t remember much about his parents. And grandpa really didn’t talk much about them when he was growing up. But Yuuji still liked to imagine. He liked to imagine a warm, happy home. Where his parents were there, waiting for him. With a warm meal, a loving hug and a laughing face. 

For a moment, he couldn’t help but imagine that this was home. That this was his own little happy home. With a mother and a father that loved each other, with a warm meal on the way for his belly and a tender greeting with that laughing face for him. Itadori Yuuji thinks that maybe just this once, even just tonight, he’d like to keep this moment as it was and carve it in his memory. 

You were the first to notice that he had returned. You turned around as Kento moved away. You were still a bit flustered but smiled at him. “Did you have a good shower, Yuu–chan? Dinner’s almost ready, you can sit down!”

Yuuji smiled widely. “Yes, I did! Thank you for welcoming me again, Nana–san.”

You waved him off. “Oh, don’t even think about it, Yuu–chan. We’re glad to have you here!”

“Itadori–kun, come here.” Nanami calls to him, waving for him to come. “Help me set up the table for the meal.”

“Yes, of course, Nanamin!” He nodded, immediately coming over.

They settled the table as you began putting the dishes on the plates. You grinned as you turned to set the dishes on the table, your heart swelling with affection as you watched your husband indulge Yuuji in a conversation about how to properly plate a table. Yuuji, with his usual wide-eyed curiosity, listened intently as Nanami explained the intricacies of table setting—how the forks and knives should be arranged, the importance of the right glassware, and even the subtle art of folding napkins.

You could see the delight in Yuuji’s eyes as he absorbed every detail, and it warmed your chest to see Kenyto share his knowledge so patiently. It was clear that Kento was savoring this moment quietly, enjoying the chance to mentor and connect with Yuuji in this simple yet meaningful way. His usual reserved demeanor softened into something more tender and nurturing, and you couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of happiness.

The kitchen was alive with the sounds of your evening together—laughter, the clinking of utensils, and the occasional lighthearted banter. The atmosphere was warm and welcoming, a stark contrast to the challenges Nanami faced outside. You moved around the table, placing the final touches on the meal, while the two of them continued their engaging discussion.

"See, Itadori–kun." Nanami said, demonstrating the correct way to position a knife beside the plate. "The blade should always face inward, toward the plate. It’s a small detail, but it makes a big difference."

Yuuji nodded, his expression one of earnest concentration. "Got it! I’ll have to remember that. Thanks for the tips, Nanamin."

You couldn’t help but smile as you watched them. The sight of Kento imparting his knowledge with such care and Yuuji absorbing it with enthusiasm filled you with a profound sense of contentment. It was moments like these that reminded you of the beauty of simple connections, the joy of sharing everyday experiences, and the happiness that came from seeing the people you loved come together.

As you finished setting the table, you joined the conversation, your voice blending with theirs in easy harmony. The meal was ready, and the table was set with all the care Kento had described. The three of you chatted effortlessly, the conversation flowing naturally between you. Yuuji asked questions, Nanami answered with a mixture of expertise and humor, and you added your own touches to the discussion.

The kitchen was filled with laughter and the clinking of dishes, creating a symphony of warmth and joy. As you all sat down to enjoy the meal, you couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of fulfillment. The love and connection you shared with Nanami, now extended to Yuuji in these small, everyday moments, made you realize just how precious and meaningful these times were.

In the midst of the shared meal, as the conversation continued and the laughter echoed through the room, you felt incredibly grateful. The sight of Nanami treating Yuuji with such kindness, the ease of their interactions, and the warmth of your home created a beautiful tapestry of everyday joy. And as you looked around the table, surrounded by the people you loved, you knew that these were the moments you would cherish forever.

As the meal drew to a close, you noticed that Yuuji’s eyes were beginning to droop. The day's excitement and the hearty dinner had taken their toll. You glanced at your husband, who met your gaze with a knowing smile.

“Yuu–chan.” you said gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. “It’s getting late, and you must be tired. Why don’t you head to the guest room and get some rest? You’re welcome to stay the night if you’d like.”

Yuuji blinked, a little surprised but clearly pleased. “Oh, really? I didn’t mean to impose, Nana–san…”

“You’re not imposing at all, Yuu–chan.” you reassured him with a warm smile. “You’re always welcome here. Always. We’d be happy to have you stay.”

Yuuji’s face lit up with a genuine smile. “Thank you so much! I’d love to stay. It’s been a while since I had a home-cooked meal like this, and spending time with you both has been really nice.”

Kento nodded, his expression tender. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. The guest room is all set for you. Let me show you where it is.”

As your husband led Yuuji toward the guest room, you decided to go on ahead and tidy up the table and cleaned the remaining dishes before your husband came back. Your husband always insists on doing it, but he is already tired.It feels nice for you, you think — to make sure that the home is clean for your lovely husband to relax in. The sounds of their footsteps and quiet conversation in the hallway were a comforting backdrop to your evening chores. They still must be talking upstairs, if they were still walking about. A few minutes later, your husband returned, his demeanor still soft and content.

“You know you didn’t have to wash it up, my love.” He presses a kiss on your cheek as you dry your hands. “I would have wanted to do it.”

You smile at him. “I know, but I wanted to do it. You deserve some rest.”

“So do you.” He sighs, growing softer as he looks at you. “I’ll do it tomorrow, hm? The whole day.”

You playfully roll your eyes, smiling wider. “Fine, if you insist.”

He smiles. “Good.”

“So, how is Yuu–chan?” You asked as you started untying your apron. “He must be exhausted.”

“Hm. He’s about to get ready for bed. He didn’t sleep much yesterday, so he should start to fall asleep soon.”

You sighed. “Poor boy. Well, he can stay as much as he likes. I doubt Sato–chan would be home early to pick him up again. Let him stay with us until then.”

“That’s what I told Gojo.”

“Good.” You smiled at him. “Then I could continue to cook for him. Pamper him, even!”

“You really made Itadori–kun’s night, my love.” Nanami said, his voice filled with appreciation. “He looked genuinely happy.”

You smiled at your husband. “He’s a good kid. I’m glad we could make him feel at home. It’s nice to share our home with someone who means so much to you. And well, someone who is dear to me now too.”

Kento walked closer to you, pulling you into a gentle embrace. “Thank you for making him feel welcome. I know it means a lot to him. And to me.”

You rested your head against his chest, savoring the warmth of his hug. “It’s what family is all about. And you know, it’s nice to have another person to share our home with.”

As you both stood there, the tranquility of the evening enveloping you, Nanami kissed the top of your head. “Let’s go check on him before we head to bed. It’s always nice to say goodnight.”

You nodded, and together you walked down the hallway to the guest room. The door was slightly ajar, and you could see Yuuji already settling in, his face relaxed and content. The blacket was covering him well enough. It was a cold night, so you were at least glad for that. You smiled at him.

“Hi, Yuu–chan. We just wanted to come up and say goodnight.” you said softly, peeking into the room. “Sleep well, hm? As much as you like, it’s okay. Remember, you have a home here with Kento and I whenever you want.”

Yuuji looked up, his eyes bright with gratitude. “Thank you, Nana–san, really. I’ll definitely take you up on that whenever I can. Nanamin already said the same thing, but really….I’m grateful to both of you.”

You smiled at him warmly. For a moment, Yuuji thinks that it would be a smile that only loving mothers can pull off. “Of course, don’t worry. Good night, Yuu–chan. Get some rest.”

With a final wave and a warm smile, you and Kento quietly closed the door and made your way back to your own room. The house felt even more like a home with Yuuji’s presence. And you were glad for it. As you looked at your husband, you knew that he felt the same way. You leaned against him, satisfied, happily. This was a happy night.

epilogue 

The warmth of the evening lingered, and you felt a happy contentment settle over you as you changed into your pajamas. Nanami Kento was already in bed, propped up against the pillows and reading a book. You slid under the covers next to him, resting your head on his shoulder.

"Kento, baby." you said, your tone light and playful. “I have thoughts I wanna say out loud.”

"Hmm?" He glanced down at you, his expression softening. “What are they about, my love?”

"I’ve been thinking, you know….I don’t think it’s crazy to think this, what I’m thinking." you began, a mischievous twinkle in your eye. "Maybe we should adopt Yuu–chan."

Nanami blinked, clearly taken aback. "Adopt Itadori–kun?"

You nodded, trying to keep a straight face. "Yes, he’s such a sweet boy, Kento. And he already seems like part of the family. Plus, he clearly adores you. And you clearly adore him. I’m sure it’s mutual between him and I. So, we might as well make it happen!”

Nanami chuckled, the sound deep and warm. "You do realize he’s already got Gojo as his current guardian, right? I doubt the higher–ups will allow us to take Itadori–kun.”

You pouted. "Yes, but think about it. I’m sure Sato–chan can convince everyone to make us Yuu–chan’s parents.  He’d bring so much energy into the house. Imagine all the laughter and fun. And you’d get to give him more life advice about girls, well even boys. I’m sure we’ll love him no matter what, you know?”

Kento closed his book, setting it aside. "And what would you get out of this arrangement?"

"Oh, just the joy of seeing you two bond even more. Being his mother…." you said with a laugh. "And maybe some help with the cooking. I can think some more, I’m sure.”

Kento shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips. "You’re incorrigible, my love.”

"But you love me still, hm?" you said, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

"That I do, my love." he agreed, wrapping his arm around you. "But I think we should leave the adopting to those who don’t have to face curses every day."

You sighed dramatically, still pouting. "Fine, fine. But I still think it’s a good idea."

Kento laughed, pulling you closer. "Maybe we can settle for having him over for dinner more often. How does that sound?"

You snuggled into his embrace, your smile widening. "Perfect. And who knows, maybe he’ll start calling you his dad! And me, his mom!”

Kento groaned playfully. "Now that’s a terrifying thought."

You laughed, the sound mingled with his, and the two of you drifted off to sleep, the warmth of your love and the lightheartedness of your conversation wrapping around you like a cozy blanket.

“But maybe when you retire….”

“......I’ll think about it.”

“I love you so much!” You say, kissing his shoulder. 

You hear him sigh, content. “I love you too.”

facts about nanami and his wife:

kento thinks that he fits being a house-husband. he likes the idea of taking care of his wife, so he thinks that he'd be great at it. he's thought about quitting sorcery to be a house-husband.

yuuji becomes a staple in your house. the guest room he used became his regular bedroom at the house. you buy clothes you think would suit him often and put it in his drawers. when he can't stay for the night, you indulge a long dinner.

these dinners lasting long into the night leads into yuuji not going home to the dorms at all and a long phone call between kento and yaga.

kento's mother and grandmother send your recipes to try almost daily. you guys maintain a group chat without the men in your lives. you enjoy it a lot, when you vent about your editor.

your editor always has a hard time with you keeping up with deadlines and because your editor's stric. sometimes, he brings out a picture of kento looking disappointed at you and you cry harder.

you still continue to ask kento to adopt yuuji because you really love him a lot. it would be easier if he was your son!!!

[bones4thecats]

you can also do Orion pax/Optimus prime x cybertroniana reader, both were a couple before the war, and they still follow him on Earth

TFP! Optimus Having A Longtime S/O

Character: Optimus Prime (Transformers Prime) Requester: @zinnia1506 A/N: I love this trope. Just a calm and nonchalant boyfriend x his loving and slightly-feral S/O! Anyways, I hope you like this. ⚠️ Spoilers/Trigger Warnings for: The ending of the show and Predcons Rising Film ⚠️

Fun fact: I wrote this listening to Lion King/Guard songs😂

••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●•

»»——————————-　 Optimus Prime 　——————————-««

⚔️ Optimus doesn't have that many people left, at least people that he knows that are currently alive. He knew more friends were deceased than alive basically

⚔️ Though, he does have someone alive that he cares the most about; his adorable S/O. You.

⚔️ Meeting back when he was still Orion Pax and a young data clerk working inside of the Iacon and you were the current Grand Diplomat of Alpha Trion's rule as Cybertron's Council's head

⚔️ You had to deliver some information in pads to the place to get organized, and when the young bot smiled and allowed you inside to organize them to how Alpha Trion wished, you began to ask about his life

⚔️ As you began to speak from time-to-time whenever you visited with more classified documents, a bond was formed quick. While many solar cycles passed, the pair of young bots were ogled on by many elders, especially Orion's friend, Megatronus, and your boss, Alpha Trion

⚔️ You were there when Megatronus, now Megatron, was denied in favor of Orion. And you were right by his side when the war blasted off and you soared away with his small team to Earth in hopes of finding something to help with the war and your home planet

⚔️ And while you two would spend many of your days by one another, as the war progressed, that was becoming harder and harder. Thankfully, your teammates would get you two to spend time together by taking some work away from your servos

⚔️ Now, when it comes to missions, you guys almost always go together. Very rarely are you apart in battle. And whenever you go without him, he keeps solid contact with you, and whenever he doesn't get a decent reply, he gets worried beyond recognition

⚔️ During the time fighting against Megatron for the final time, you were help hostage with Ratchet. Being held not for assistance in finalizing the synthetic energon, but for your information on fixing Cybertron, in which you told Megatron to piss off and jump down a hole to a scrapheap

⚔️ Unlike Ratchet, you weren't given to Predaking to kill, rather, you were held in a cell surrounded by Vehicon soldiers. In a matter of minutes, you had gone from acting unconscious to wrapping your legs around on soldiers neck from behind and killing all around you. Think of that scene from The Suicide Squad (2021) when Harley broke out

(Here's a link for reference: Link) - warnings for A LOT blood and death!

⚔️ Optimus was very pleased when he saw both you and Ratchet okay, but when he saw a Vehicon attempt attacking you, he blasted him to the Well of the Allspark. Despite this, you fought brilliantly against the many soldiers against you

⚔️ You also showed a new depth of rhythmicity, from attacking Megatron from behind as Optimus took the front. And before you were knocked aside roughly and your sparkmate was hanging onto the Nemesis, everyone, including Decepticons, were shocked at how in-sync you two were. You really were sparkmates

⚔️ Bumblebee then killed Megatron, making you leap in joy and help him get your sparkmate up and onto the ship's base. You held the mech closely as you cheered with the rest of your team about the win against the Cons

⚔️ Throughout the rest of your lives together, you spent it fighting against Unicron. And while it was hard for you to say goodbye to your lover of many hundreds of years, you couldn't help but shed a tear when his red, white, and blue spark spun around you and acted as if he was pecking your forehead

⚔️ The others watched with smiles as you kissed the spark before watching it fly away. Ratchet patted your shoulder as Bee and the other, including Knockout, gathered around you in a large group hug. You were a family no matter what, thanks to the mech you called your one and only...

"I love you, Y/N..."

[glorified-red]

Sometimes u just need Damian to hold u while u cry y'know¿??

I feel this with every fiber of my being, you have no idea.

Actions Speak a Thousand Words

summary: Damian was always a man of little words, but in moments like these, he wished he could do better to comfort you. word count: 1,280~ warnings: self-doubt, self-hatred, Damian sucks at emotions but he's tRyiNg. Light hurt/comfort In honor of summer classes sucking ASS and Damian's cameo in the Pride comic, here's this, because I feel like everyones a little bit tired right now.

You felt a shoulder bump into yours, effectively washing away all your thoughts. You hummed in question, your gaze barely lifting from where it was stuck. 

“You’ve been staring at the wall for long enough that I’ve begun to think it’s personally wronged you.” 

You hummed into the fingers that nestled against your chin, it was subtle pressure but it was enough to keep you from floating away. The hum almost died in your throat, having gotten caught in the heat that taunted you. 

When you didn’t laugh or even budge, Damian grew worried. He attempted to—as you taught him—lighten the mood once more. 

“I could fight the wall for you. It seems as though you’re mortal enemies.” 

You responded that time, but the attempt at banter fell short when your voice was nothing but a whisper. “We’re in the middle of a staring contest, that’d defeat the point.” 

It was Damian’s turn to hum, he tried to sound like he was on board with the idea but the tail end of the noise lifted into confusion. He slipped onto the seat next to you. 

“Are you at least winning?” His gaze attempted to reach yours. Green eyes were at the edge of your vision if you just turned your head to look at him. He felt his eyebrows crease together when your eyes fell from the wall and onto the desk in front of you. 

“I don’t think so,” you whispered, much softer than the last time you spoke. If Damian wasn’t inches away, the wobbles in your voice would have faded into nothing, to never be heard. The lips behind shaky fingers struggled to suck in a breath. 

Damian sifted ever closer to you until he could feel your silhouette against his. He hesitated, if not for a moment. He wasn’t good at this, he was trying to be—god he was—but it didn’t stop the lump in his throat from forming every time he saw you in hardship. 

He started with the first step: “Are you okay?” 

That sentence alone felt like he had said it wrong. He could mimic the exact inflections as everyone, down to the last breath, and he would still feel so out of place saying it. He hated the sound of his own hesitance—why couldn’t he be good at this, just once? He’d watched for years as his oldest brother danced through emotions so effortlessly, even his father had grown in an aspect Damian would never admit he was jealous of. He’d seen it—experienced it himself—yet he could never navigate this as easily as the others. 

You told him he was doing wonderful every time. You noticed his efforts and smiled at his mistakes, told him he was human and that it was okay. But damn, did Damian want to be better for you. You taught him what it was like to feel alive. He wanted to return that feeling tenfold until your body buzzed with his love for you. 

He just didn’t know how. 

The silence between you too lingered for longer than he liked. Every fiber of his being itched to fix the problem, to make sure whatever was making you feel this lost was squandered. But he quieted that part of him; he told himself “later.” Right now, that wouldn’t help you. That wouldn’t help you process this or feel whatever you were feeling right now. He had to give you time. 

So he waited, even as the milliseconds stretched into seconds. He let your brain filter through his question and piece together a response. 

“I’m just tired, Dames.” 

He picked at his pants, feeling the seams roll under his fingers. 

“Do you want to take a nap?” died in his throat. 

“We could cuddle?” slipped from his tongue. 

“Maybe take a break?” seemed impossible to say. 

Those are solutions, they wouldn’t help right now. 

“From?” he settled on. The green from his eyes never left your face for a moment. He was sure you could feel it, the weight of his gaze. It slid from your temples down your nose and across your jaw, tracing each line over and over again so he could see when they shifted. He could analyze your face for hours, it’s how he knew the twitch between your eyebrows was a sign you were trying to form the words on your tongue. 

He knew you. And he knew you wanted to smack a smile on your face and move on, to laugh it off and apologize for everything and nothing all at once. He often did the same, just with a different way of shrugging off emotions. He hid behind a stone wall where you hid behind a mirror. 

It was funny really, how easily you could penetrate his walls and how easily he could see through a two-way. 

“Everything.” Your eyes finally met his and the feeling of his heart sinking wasn’t one he could ever get used to. The sight of tears forming constellations on your lashes was enough for his heart to lurch. He felt it deep in his ribcage and up into his throat. 

He struggled on his next word. The words had to claw their way out of his mouth, enemies of hesitance and anxiety blocking their path. He wanted to tell you everything would be okay; he wanted to say it would get better; he wanted to say something that would help—anything. 

But Damian was never a man of many words, and oh, did he hate himself for it. 

No matter how many times he was told his strengths, he could only ever see the weaknesses, the imperfections, and the traits of him that could be traced back to his grandfather. Even after so long of trying to be better, it was useless. 

He was trying to be someone he wasn’t. 

So he let the words die. He let the resonance turn into a steady breath and did what he was good at: he held you. His arms wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you into his chest. You all but fell into his embrace, your head finding its way under his chin out of habit. It felt natural here, with you in his arms. Damian felt like he could breathe easier as if all his insecurities washed away. 

He hoped you felt the same. 

“I'm so tired,” you sobbed. Fingers clung to his shirt and pulled on the fabric but he stayed steady. He was, and always would be, your rock: the steady force in your life while all else seemed to swirl into chaos. He would always be there for you, despite everything. He was an immovable force and he slowly took pride in that fact. 

His lips pressed into the top of your head, the words hidden behind those lips ached to break through. Instead, he wrote the words into your body and kissed them into your skin in hopes the message was received all the same. 

The pads of his fingers squeezed consonants into your shoulders and slid vowels down your back and up again. His thighs carried the weight of yours and promised strength in return. His chest breathed in your sorrows and pressed affirmations into your heart. 

“I’m here.” 

It was short—that much Damian knew. But it was all he had to say. Every single word trapped in his chest was released in two simple syllables. There was nothing else. It was so simple, yet he overlooked it everytime. 

He could feel your body leaning into his, the way your hands had to convince themselves he was there. He knew you. And he knew this was enough. 

He would always be enough. 

As he was.

Taglist ♡

@anothertimdrakestan

@cherry-dropp

@missredrobin

[arxxq]

𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍

Oh wow....I'm alive? My writing is rusty....

Rin and Sae with a s/o who does figure skating.

(mentions of stress and breaking down? Fluff-ish angst)

(no gender implied)

𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐑𝐈𝐍

He probably didn't know

Since he's busy with football/soccer as well

But when he found out he was well....he didn't know what to feel

He was impressed because figure skating takes a lot of flexibility

As well as a strong mentality

But when he saw you play, he saw you got 2nd place....

He was happy for you? But he could tell you weren't

You sat there in your room for hours not going out, not eating and not even talking. Rin isn't the type to worry but he is right now.

"(name)...please open the door,"

No replies. He sighed but when he held the door knob he found out it was unlocked. He entered the room and there he saw you, sitting on the bed with your knees to your chest.

It was silent...he didn't know what to say. No, it was more that he was scared to say the wrong thing.

"I could've done better...no, I should've done better," you muttered enough for him to hear.

"You did amazing-"

"Well not according to the judges," you cut him off, words full of hatred on yourself.

"You yourself know that there's only one winner...that's what you always say but being second is like..."

"being the first loser.." he continues. You then buried your face in your knees. "Love...you did your best. I'm proud of you. You're amazing, your mentality is strong enough to suffer being a figure skater...i probably wouldn't survive a day,"

"so cheer up okay...you can do better next time alright?"

"alright.." Rin gave a small smile satisfied with your response. "Cmon let's eat okay?"

𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐄

He knows your standards

He knows you're strong

And he knows you're competitive and hard on yourself

But when he saw you win that day...he could tell even if he was a mile away

You weren't happy

Although you won first place you weren't happy

When you went to him after getting the medal and the bouquet he looked at you. Others would think he wasn't happy with that serious expression but he was looking at you with concern.

"why are you looking at me like that?" You asked with a smile.

"You can stop faking the smile...tell me what's wrong," he says with a straight face.

"What do you mean?"

"I know that look (name), you're not happy..I can tell,"

You stopped smiling. You looked down not wanting him to see you cry. "Tell me what's wrong amor..?"

And you broke into tears. "It just felt so lonely. I won but the others looked at me with envy and jealousy and it hurts....and my legs feel like there about to give up after...a-after learning the butterfly and the other tricks.."

He then sighed. "who cares what the others think?"

"I do..I do." Sae sighed. He took your hand and looked at you with a soft expression. "You did brilliant today...I know you love figure skating but for the sake of your health I think you should stop for now alright?"

You nod as a reply. "Alright then...let's get out of here, we're celebrating your win tonight,"

(all rights reserved Arxx/Hasinah)

(Ew my writing is rusty...)

[candyskiez]

Could you please tell us everything about Night in the Woods I am so intrigued to hear all your thoughts about it (<- have never played the game but eh I don't care about any spoilers)

I NEVER TALKED ABOUT THIS? FUCK.

OKAY. OKAY. NIGHT IN THE WOODS.

It's a game about capitalism, first and foremost. Like I mean It Is A Game About Capitalism. Pretty much every main conflict is in some way influenced by it. Specifically about how capitalism affects your mental health and relationships and how it's almost impossible to exist as a mentally ill person under capitalism.

The protagonist, Mae, has severe mental health issues. She hallucinates, she has mood swings, we don't know what she specifically has but it's very Real and the slow build up to showing it was very well done imo. It wasn't a plot twist it was the slow realization that she'd had these issues for so long and gotten zero help for it, and how all these little things had contributed to it. She's always fucking up relationships, she has anger issues, she feels Unlovable and like everyone hates her and sometimes maybe she hates everyone too, it's all a massive fucking mess and she has no idea how to fix it and she feels so goddamn broken. She dropped out of college because the hallucinations and breakdowns got so intense she could hardly leave her room, and when she came back there was so much judgement about dropping out and. It hurts, man! It really hurts! Her parents made her feel like she'd failed them, Bea felt like she just threw away her ticket out of this town, Agnus worried she was a bad influence on Gregg- even though these people were pretty good they're not immune to taking shit out on each other under the stress of working to stay alive. It's so messy and so realistic. It's all about how capitalism only benefits those on top and shreds the mental health of everyone being exploited by it, whether you have a job or not. There is no winning at capitalism. Dan is always looking for jobs and always getting fired. Bea is miserable at her job. Agnus and Gregg are working seven days a week and they're still tight on money.

And Casey couldn't get a job. We don't know why. And we don't know why because a cult killed him for not being Productive. They said nobody would miss him. One of the first things Mae does in the game is miss him. His parents put up posters. The missing poster is one of the first things you see in the game. "Nobody would miss him" because he didn't Contribute. We barely know anything about him, just that he apparently meant the world to so many characters in the game. Gregg was willing to kill a man when he learned Casey was dead. And they thought nobody would miss him because he wasn't Useful. And we will never know Casey's story because a bunch of bigoted assholes decided his life wasn't worth anything.

But the game is also about community. How capitalism tries to kill it and also how community is the only way to survive it and to maybe fix things. The only reason Mae survived is because she had a community. The reason Casey didn't survive is because he didn't have one. It's about how even though Mae cannot keep a job right now, she still has a place in her community because she exists. She still deserves a place in it, no matter how "Difficult" she is. It's about how Mae feels isolated and like the world is just dead and there's nothing left in it for her, but there are so many people who are alive in that community. There are so many people who see her and who like seeing her run by and who care about her. It's about the fact that the people who try to isolate her from her community because of her breakdown as a kid are actually kind of fucked up! And it's about the fact that community is what saves them. Bea runs off and almost gets herself in massive danger, but Mae runs after her. Even after all the messy shit between them, Mae runs after her. Even though Mae has messed shit up with them so many times, her friends love her. And when she says "I need to do this alone" they actively refuse to let her! They refuse to let her pull the main character card and follow her into danger because that's their friend! She tells them this is all her fault and they don't even humor her for a second. Because she is part of their community and nothing is going to change that.

And just. Oh my god the Scene where Mae confronts....whatever the thing in the mine is. Cosmic horror, hallucination, metaphor for her own inner Shit, whatever you wanna call it. She goes on about how she's always had this in her head. She has always felt disconnected from the world. She's always known shit was unfair and there's always been people having insane systems to hurt people and everything has always been like this. And she has always had these issues. She's always been too angry. She's always been volatile. She's always had periods where her brain works against her. And she just screams at what she thinks is a god that she gets it. She will always have these feelings. She will never stop being wired like this. And whether or not that's fair doesn't matter. But she wants it all to matter. And she is GOING to make it matter. She isn't going to die here. She isn't going to let herself die, and she isn't going to sacrifice herself, and she won't let any random Thing she sees control her choices. She is going to LIVE. She wants her death to hurt. She wants to go down fighting, and she will. No matter what this thing is, she does not fucking care. She can't even understand it. Why should she care about something that doesn't care about her? In that scene I mentioned before, "God" told her it didn't care. It had no reason to care. So why should she look for validation from something that had no reason to give it to her? Why should she let something that wasn't even in this world determine her worth and whether or not her life matters? She decides right then and there that her life matters, and that she will make it matter, and she wants to hope again. She wants to be happy again. And she won't take no from something that doesn't even care and didn't have a reason to. And she lives.

I fucking love this game.

[ronearoundblindly]

The Dignity of His Choice (abridged ending)

Speedy version of Reflections Part II & III (see previous or series) Steve Rogers x wife!Reader

Alright, this may not be conventional, but I'm crippled by guilt over this story. There are so many elements that hit brutally close to home based on a personal experience this past year (arguably this past decade but whatevs), and so I have sifted through 28 A4-sized pages, front-to back, and 17 smaller pages, front-to back (save one sheet), as well as a typed-up 7k, in hopes of grasping this magical redemption arc that exists in my mind and falls flat everywhere else. I'm sick of it. I'm sick of loving this story so much that nothing is good enough, and I'm sick of hoping to offer a conclusion that never f***ing comes. Welp, today you can know the conclusion--or the gist of it at least--because that is my Christmas gift to myself. I'm washing myself of the guilt. -> What follows is an extremely unedited and maybe slightly poetic summary of the finale. God, I hope you enjoy it, but really, I just want to feel like I *can* finish something. Sorry if that's dramatic; that's just...the situation of 2023.

Thank you in advance for your understanding, and I hope this serves up some sort of holiday cheer! (No real warnings because smut is reserved for the full-length version. This tale, as always, is 18+ due to very heavy themes.)

The thing is Steve doesn't regret his choice. How can he regret anything that ensured you were here, alive and happy, by his side? That's not an achievement he'll ever be ashamed of; there's no guarantee in the multiverse that he could have done better.

You spoke of being lucky. You felt guilt that of all the servicemen and women to lose their lives, yours came home in the end.

Steve doesn't see it that way. Yes, you and he are very, very lucky, but overall, Steve won.

In every war, there are battles. In battles, there are fights. In fights, there are shots taken, punches thrown. You don't need to land every punch to win a war. There are always losses.

Steve Rogers tends to win because he understands this.

He knows the value of strategy. He knows the value of hope. He especially knows the value of planning for the worst.

And so he's surprised--as he often is with you--that he hasn't lost more.

You accept the loss as well as the win. You endure more gracefully than he ever imagined possible during those long months alone and away.

His sacrifice may have played a factor in your safety, but in the end, it just came down to you. You fought for yourself. You battled for your beliefs. You warred for your convictions.

Steve can understand that. He admires it.

He plans to make this dreadful mess up to you, he hopes for the time to do so, but before he can strategize how, your bubble of isolation is burst by a knock at the door.

"Open up, Rogers. Please," Sam Wilson requests anxiously over F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s speaker.

He could simply mean you since you are a Rogers and neither of you have heard the okay that the world knows Steve's alive. Although, Steve still doesn't have a phone again, and you haven't exactly been checking yours during recent...activities... (Not to put too fine a point on it, but Bucky's little gifts aren't going to miraculously last eight days and nights.)

Steve stays in the corner of the kitchen, drying his hands from the dishes you two were washing together, while you answer the door.

It swings open in the direction that still hides Steve.

"Hey--" Steve hears the soft pause in Wilson's voice "--I think...I may be out of line here, but Stark ordered personnel to vacate the compound."

You cross your arms over your chest, nervous. "Do we need to leave? I--As in, you and I? Are we included in that?"

"No," Sam says flatly. "It's just...suspicious--look, can I come in?"

"Sam, wait!" You push to make a wall in the doorway, meaning Steve can no longer see you or what's happening while a silence, an extremely pregnant pause, stretches.

Afterward, there's a whisper.

"Is he here?"

Your reply is only a stutter of unfinished words, but that's enough. Sam's stepped past and halted a few feet inside before his scanning gaze lands on Steve.

Steve's not sure what he expects his friend to do. He's misjudging reactions left and right these days, so he can't presume that--

"Gym?" Sam ticks his arm, thumb pointing back out to the hall. "I'm going for a run."

He has to convince you and Steve that the whole place really has been cleared before Steve changes clothes.

The string-light and garland-lined corridors remind Steve that his apartment remains devoid of any festive touches. You two have been too distracted to realize it's the day before Christmas Eve, so the 'evacuation' will likely draw no attention from the average employee.

Stark is just adamant they have the holiday for family. That's all. The only people who live there are Avengers.

The smell of the rubber floor when they walk onto the track spikes nostalgia in the back of Steve's brain, and in his utter joy to be there again, he starts sprinting like old times.

His blood pumps and his lungs stretch, but it's too hard, too fast. His blood thunders in his ears and makes his head swim. His lungs burn fiercely and seize. He collapses, gasping through his weakest asthma attack yet, but it still happens.

Things are almost, almost the same. Things are still different.

Without taking the opportunity to gloat (too much), Sam uses his powers, skills he's had all along, to divine Steve's real fear:

Steve changed things, and he may have changed things so much that it's all ruined. He can't go back to being Cap because he showed his colors: he chose you over everything else. What if you can't go back to being his wife because of that same choice?

Sam helps Steve off the floor.

"You walked the same circle for a long time, buddy. Instead of getting off the track entirely, try one lane over. Baby steps."

Steve snorts. "Ya know, she said something similar."

"Yeah, well, some of us filled in the stoic charm while you were gone."

"Comes naturally to you, doesn't it?"

Wilson turns to walk backwards, flashing pearly whites. "The outfit is growing on me, and I think the press were just about to stop calling me Black Cap." He playfully punches Steve's shoulder. "We'll see how far this sets me back, huh?"

After realizing he has to take it easy, Steve enjoys a long, mostly quiet run beside his friend, never once passing him. Though Steve asks about returning tomorrow, Sam has to decline. Christmas Eve is for Sarah and her boys, and Sam's sister will raise hell if crossed.

Just before leaving the gym, Sam hugs Steve, the length and intensity of the embrace telling Steve all he needs to know. Sam--like everyone else who knows so far--is happier than he is hurt, and that stifles Steve in a torrent of humility.

He doesn't deserve the strength of this family built around him, but he is grateful.

Steve also doesn't expect to find Natasha and Bucky in his apartment when he returns. He was hoping to put up some decorations with you, bring a touch of joyous spirit to that place you've been emotionally entombed for months, but he outright frowns when seeing the box they brought.

Between you and Nat sits the bin of intel the Keepers gathered on you and left behind at a raided facility. You're pouring over the dirty details of horrible intrusion to your private life, both you and Steve's, and he can't help but watch your face closely.

You do look horrified. You look furious for minutes on end, file after file, until you finally ask, "who's had stuff like this on you guys?"

That's the thing. That's the part eating away at Steve's shame. It's why he can't be beyond a superficial level of sorry for what he's done.

"The Red Room," Nat replies softly.

Buck shrugs. "Hydra...among others."

Steve knows what that intel could have been a precursor to; they could manipulate more than just him. You could have been used, you could have been changed, and it would have been his fault. Extremes are most of his life, so Steve goes to extreme measures to keep his life separate from all of that.

Blurring those lines--bringing you closer to the fray of this scary and violent world feels irresponsible.

You continue to ask candid questions about what Nat and Bucky were doing this whole time. The response is grueling, a complex web of taking out targets without signaling an ulterior motive, every interaction carefully executed to seem natural, all the while knowing that Steve waited to come home and you waited for...well, the truth.

The way Natasha describes it makes Steve sick to his stomach.

He never wanted this, but he has to live with the consequences.

You thumb over a few stalking photographs in your hand and simply say, "that was quite a commitment."

Something triggers in Steve, and suddenly, his next move is crystal clear.

"I'll--I'll be right back," he blurts.

All three of you startle in confusion, sat around the coffee table like it's the most normal thing in the world to share so much. You've had top clearance for twenty-four hours. You're already a pro, and that makes Steve's idea that much more perfect.

He races through the building, glad he doesn't have to hide, and pounds on Tony's door.

As soon as Tony opens up though, Morgan rushes past his legs and lets out a blood-curdling cry that ends in a sobbing, "you're alive."

The little girl flings herself into Steve's arms, refusing to let go the entire time he asks Stark--all the Starks--for a favor.

You wake up the next morning to find a note from Steve and a dress of yours hung by the tree you put up after a long meal with Nat and Bucky.

Important errand, the note reads. Expect Tony to come by at 11. Wear this, please. I love you.

It's the dress you chose for your first date with Steve, the date that kinda never happened because the compound was invaded and you had to kill a guy. Odd memory to resurrect, but you do adore that dress.

You're not surprised when Tony arrives in one of his signature suits, nor when he makes a show of walking you through the halls on his arm. He has the uncanny ability to chat about nothing using the maximum number of words. He's delightful that way.

Your first real clue is Morgan, standing outside some double doors to one of the flex rooms, like the ones changed for training different abilities, like the ones used for therapy circles. In fact, it's the same room, the exact same double doors as years ago.

The girl looks fit to burst, clearly told to keep her cheers to a minimum as she clutches a wicker Easter basket in her hands, crouching as if ready to spring into action.

Pepper stands close by. Nat and Bucky whisper conspiratorially a ways down the hall.

Then you notice.

Tony has on a black suit with red pin-stripes, Pepper a blue dress with a white belt, Natasha a red dress with a white belt, and Bucky a navy suit with a black-shirt underneath.

"We did our best on short notice," Tony rambles off, guiding you to a stop in front of the party.

"This is for you," Morgan squeaks, ripping a colorful bundle of pipe cleaners out of the basket. There are buttons woven to the tops of each 'stem.'

Pepper quickly adds, "wild flowers were...a bit scarce, as you can imagine."

You brave a single question.

"What's going on?"

Everyone just beams at you, falling into a pattern of pairs behind Morgan before Tony winks and tells you to follow his lead.

The doors open, and there, at the end of the aisle, stands Steve--your Steve--in his old Captain America outfit minus the cowl. His hair is still long and darker, but his beard is properly trimmed.

All you can think is how you'll tease him about that.

You pinch at the leather sleeve in curiosity, and Steve leans over.

"This is the last thing I'll ever do in it," he says before kissing your cheek. "Promise."

"Says the guy who's stolen it twice," Tony mutters from his place on the other side of Bucky.

"He has a point," Nat chimes in.

The poor priest clears his throat and bellows, "dearly beloved..."

He keeps his promise.

At a press conference just before New Year's, Steve is announced as one of those rescued from "an enemy base" in an undisclosed location.

The crowd of reporters erupts in a chaos of inquisition, but all Steve will give them, standing there in a simple sweater and slacks, is his official resignation of the title Cap.

"What do we call you then?" someone shouts from the back.

"Just Steve. I am Steve Rogers, that's all." He looks to his left for the comfort of your face. "And this--" he grabs your hand "--is Mrs. Rogers, my soulmate."

@im-a-slut-for-fluff @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @fangirl-swagg @georgeweaslysgirl @austynparksandpizza @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes @claireelizabeth85 @patzammit @supraveng @1950schick @jamneuromain @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @spectre-posts

A/N: and yes, the full-version will be written eventually.

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[natslildove]

gif not mine

Bring you back

natasha romanoff x reader

summary: since vormir, you haven’t been in touch with any avenger, you went missing. no one knew where you were or if you were even still alive. until one day, you hear a knock on the door and a familiar face awakes something inside of you, you thought was long gone. hope.

warnings: swearing, panic attack

authors note: sorry it took me like 2 weeks.. i kind of forgot what the story was supposed to be lol. anyways !!!! hope you enjoy it ! <3

you can find the previous chapter here.

11:07 AM

You’ve been in the compound for less than an hour and you’re at Tony and Bruce’s lab, being overwhelmed with theories of how and why they think they can bring Natasha back.

But the thing is, they only have about 2 days. To be precise, 56 hours. Natasha died at 7:13 PM. That’s why is always so hard to sleep when every night around that time, your mind goes back to Vormir.

“We think that, if we find a way to get to Vormir in time, we might have a chance to stop her”, Tony said.

“Stop her? Won’t that reverse the whole ‘saving the world’ thing?”, you say while looking at the place. It’s a mess. Natasha would’ve hated.

“No, you see, time doesn’t work that way. We can’t go back in time and undo something. It would just create a different timeline, but not change ours. If we go back in time and kill Thanos, everything he’s done will still be done but, the second we kill him, another string of time would be created.”

“Says who?”

“Someone who knows about this stuff, trust me”, Bruce tries to convince you without revealing his source. You look at Tony who just makes a gesture suggesting you to ignore this part.

“So you’re saying that, basically, all we have to do is… Go to Vormir?”

“At the right time, yes”, Stark seems hopeful.

“And why don’t you just get a quinjet or something and go?”

“Because, and that’s the problem, Vormir is about 15.000 light years… We can’t get there.”

You knew it. All of this was just bullshit and suddenly you hated yourself even more for believing there might actually be a way of bringing her back. You try processing what Bruce just said and it’s like the whole universe is laughing at you for being so stupid. How could you. You were fine. Or at least you tried to believe you were. She’s dead. She is dead. Natasha is dead. Your girlfriend is dead. Girlfriend. God, you couldn’t even propose to her, the ring long forgotten somewhere in the locked room. This is all so stupid. You’re so stupid and your girlfriend is dead and you never even get to call her your fiancé or wife or nothing. Nothing. She was nothing now. You’re not even a widow, you’re just nothing. You’re no one and you have no one. You’re alone. It should’ve been you. Not her. She was perfect, she deserved to live. She deserved to win. She should be here.

“Woah, hey! Y/N! Hey, what happened?” Tony is holding your face between his hands and you just now realize you were crying. Bawling. You heart was beating so fast you felt like throwing up.

Fucking panic attacks.

You couldn’t speak, your eyes going back and forth but never really looking at the man in front of you. You shake your head and dries your tears with the back of your hands with a certain strength. You whole face is red and Tony and Bruce are giving you pitiful looks.

God, you hated this. So much.

“I’m fine, it’s fine” you take a deep breath, “Just keep going… How- Is there a way to get there or not?”

“Are you sure you’re okay? We can-“

“I’m fine!”, you cut Bruce, “I’m fine, okay? Just answer me”

“Uhm, there might be a way”

“Stop with this might this might that. Just fucking say it already”

“You know Carol? Captain Marvel, Space chick, blonde and tall?”

“I know of her”

“She got her powers from the Tesseract”, Tony continues, “And now, she can fly trough galaxies like, super fast!“

“So we need her?”

“Not exactly”, this time, Bruce says, “Carol is really, really far away, not even with all her powers she could get there in time. We can’t even reach her”, the scientist looks at you, “We need the Tesseract”

“To create a machine?”

“To hit someone with it”, Tony says while cleaning his throat. You barely even listened.

“What? Are you- Are you serious?”

“It could work”

“It could kill someone! This Carol chick only survived because she was half Kratos or something!”

“Kree, and yeah, maybe, but”, the sortear guy keeps trying to convince you, “It worked! All we need is someone willing to do it. Without risk tests and all the regular procedures we are legally required to do”

Oh. A lab rat. They needed a lab rat dumb enough to sacrifice their life’s for a maybe.

Maybe the person will die. Maybe the whole compound would explode. Maybe it wouldn’t even do nothing.

Maybe they’d get Natasha back.

“I’ll do it”

“Yeah, we know Romeo”, Tony smiles. Bruce walks fast to a closet, opening and grabbing a suit.

“We made from your old measures but…”, Banner looks at you up and down and you feel embarrassed and exposed, “We might need to tighten a little bit”

Ouch, what a way to call you malnourished.

12:33 - 55 hours and 20 minutes until Vormir

Bruce was still measuring you in the lab and it was quiet. You knew he had questions but you were grateful he didn’t asked them.

Yelena enters the place holding a bag os chips and a bottle of water. She doesn’t say anything just gives it to you.

“Eat. And drink it”

“I’m not really hungry”

“I literally did not asked anything”, she opens the bag while still in your hands and grabs some chips, “Natasha will hate to see you like this”, she smiles, “I can picture her complaining about your habits”’ now she laughs, “I mean, when she sees your house she will freak out! You killed all her plants! The place is a mess”

“You’ve only seen the outside”

“Sure”

“What do you mean, ‘sure’?”

“I mean…”, she steals more chips, “Sure”

You get this weird feeling that she’s been visiting you without you realizing it. It says a lot about you.

When Yelena stops rambling about her sister, that’s when you realize you’ve eaten some chips. Basically the whole bag, per se.

“You talk as if you’re sure this will work”, now you’re drinking the water. Yelena is smiling not only because of the conversation.

“Someone has to, right?”

Yeah. Someone has to.

1049 words.

taglist: @fxckmiup @janashstorm @smromanoff @natsxwife @makkaroni221 @marvelogic @thelonewriter247 @lizzeolsenismommy @g-athenaathens ( tumblr just won’t let me tag u idk why i’m sorry :(( )

[strwberri-milk]

On my way to Getting into your ask Queue>:3

This might sound personal but I want Angst/Comfort Cyno, s/o Prefer to wacth rather to play Tcg, they knows how to play it, but Prefer not too because always loses and although it's just a card game, shouldn't be taking it personally, but it's been swallowing s/o alive, slowly they become less confident and have cruel thoughts about how bad they are, so they always just throw the game.

But Cyno insist on playing a game with him so finally S/o accept but while in the middle game, she just want to get over with it, but Cyno will notice if she just throw the game, Reader knew they were going to lose, just as Cyno about to Finish, a single teardrop on the table. Without Realizing Reader had tears up as they blankly stare at their cards, not realizing Cyno finished his round. And when Cyno ask about are they crying, Reader immediately tried to play it off. S/o afraid to tell why they are sad because it would sound pathetic and maybe sounds like a sore loser, doesn't feel like it's a valid reason to be sad about.

I'm sorry, I honestly don't know why I ask this, it's just random ask. Feel free to ignore this. This is just me wanting comfort from my fav character, I tend to get upset at the smallest thing...

Cyno just wanted to enjoy a came of TCG with you. It's something you enjoy watching him play and he doesn't understand why you wouldn't enjoy actually playing with him. He knows you're aware of the rules as sometimes you'll help him out slightly or give him a suggestion.

When you finally agree he's happier than he shows you, shuffling and dealing the cards out with a speed you've never noticed before. You chalk that up to his excitement and you try to monitor yourself as he does so. There's a very slight chance you'd actually end up winning against him and you really hope that you won't end up getting upset when he does win because you don't want him to think any less of you.

It takes no time for you to realise that you've been backed into a corner pretty effectively by him and there's nothing you can do to redeem yourself. You can feel the way the anger and shame rise up in you, egging each other on in an awful loop. Your eyes drift down to the table you're playing on, not sure how you'll be able to speak to him.

Cyno's trying to draw your attention back to him, concerned about the way that you've gone totally silent You don't respond to him, barely looking up when he calls your name. He decides to come around the table, kneeling on the ground so he can get a better look at you without needing you to move. When he sees you're crying he brushes your tears away, trying to get you to talk to him again.

After some time and more tears you admit to him the reason for your sadness, shaking your head and telling him you know it sounds dumb and that he's going to make fun of you but thankfully he doesn't. Instead, he gives you a hug and tells you it's okay. He decides that the two of you should play together a little more often,. He'll help you deal with your feelings and also help you get better.

You aren't sure if it's a good idea but he's patient enough to give you the room to decide whether or not you want to continue playing w him. He's happy when you come up to him to ask if he wants to play with you, taking his time to make sure you're enjoying the game.

[lone-wolf-nergiganos]

Scaramouche/Wanderer X Bullied Gaming YouTuber! Male Reader Modern AU

Scaramouche is always protective over you, sure he is a short little guy, but that doesn't mean he won't hurt someone who dares to harm you, even when you are online, his overprotective nature never depletes.

You are a gamer, and you often have to deal with people who thinks everyone should be perfect in order to win, and when you or someone else screws up, they'll scold you. Or even worse make mean comments on your streams. That's something Scaramouche do not tolerate.

You were currently streaming on YouTube while playing Call of Duty: Warzone, which is your favorite game to play. Unfortunately you kept dying despite trying so hard to stay alive, and the worst part about it is? It's that you have people commenting negatively on your stream, saying that you are a*s or trash at the game.

Scaramouche saw this negative thread of comments and quickly stepped in before grabbing the microphone and said, "you b*tches better shut the hell up, let him play the game without treating him like crap." This comments quickly stopped becoming negative, it was as if Scaramouche casted a spell on them.

"That's what I thought you b*tches, how about you all get a life instead of making fun of someone online?" He added before turning around to look at you, "turn off the stream baby, they're not worth it," he said before smiling at you. "Okay," you replied before ending the stream.

Scaramouche then walked up to you before kissing you gently before saying, "ignore them lowlives baby, they're not worth stressing over." You kissed him back before saying, "okay," and after that you two went to bed to take a little nap while cuddling each other.

[mononijikayu]

quiet eyes — geto suguru.

He took in the image of you, one that has matured, has grown, has changed over the course of a decade. Yet there was something in his eyes, a conflict, when he looked at you. You didn’t understand why, you didn’t understand where it came from but you didn’t say anything. You just let this moment stay as it was. You let your eyes quietly take in how he has grown in these years. And you know, he was doing the same with you.

GENRE: Pre-Hidden Inventory Arc to Post-Hidden Inventory Arc, 1997 to 2010;

WARNING/s: Alternate Universe ─ Canon Divergence, Romance, Young Love, First Love, Emotional Hurt, Domestic Life, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Pining, Friends to Lovers, Grief, Long Distance Relationship, Break-Up , Reconciliation, Closure, Past Lives, Emotional Turmoil, Trauma, Depiction of Physical Touch, Depiction of Mental Anguish, Depiction of Depression, Depiction of Parenthood;

masterlist

song: quiet eyes by sharon van etten

note: i wrote this after sobbing to a rewatch of celine song's past lives and i realized, its so suguru coded and this is what i came up with. my friend did the beta read and they said i should stop writing for their mental health cause they sobbed about it!!! anyway, i hope you guys enjoy it!!! i love you all~

YOU SOMEHOW ALWAYS GET LOST.  It was New Year’s Eve again, a night you eagerly anticipated each year. You wore your best winter coat, its soft, warm fabric wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. The streets were alive with festive energy, and your hand was firmly clasped in your mother’s as you navigated the lively crowd. This annual visit to the shrine was a cherished tradition—a time to pray to the gods for a good year and wish for a bountiful year ahead. 

The shrine was adorned with vibrant decorations, and the air was filled with the tantalizing scents of festival foods. Lanterns hung from every tree branch, casting a magical glow that made the snow glisten like a blanket of tiny diamonds. As you and your mother approached the shrine, you could hear the rhythmic beating of taiko drums and the joyful chatter of families and friends coming together to celebrate.

After making your way through the crowd, you and your mother finally reached the shrine. You joined the line of people waiting to offer their prayers. Your mother guided you through the familiar ritual—ringing the bell, clapping your hands, and bowing deeply. Together, you prayed for health, happiness, and prosperity, the wishes echoing in the silent spaces of your hearts.

Once your prayers were done, you and your mother decided to explore the festival. There were so many stalls, each one more fascinating than the last. You were particularly captivated by a booth selling colorful masks and another with a game where you could win goldfish.

Amidst the excitement, you noticed a beautiful display of kites. Entranced, you let go of your mother’s hand for just a moment, stepping closer to get a better look. When you turned back, she was nowhere in sight. Panic surged through you, and the festive sounds around you became a blur of noise as you called out for her, your voice lost in the sea of revelers.

Tears began to well up in your eyes as you frantically searched for any familiar face. It felt as if the world was closing in around you. One moment, you were holding her hand tightly, and the next, you were adrift in a crowd of unfamiliar faces. Panic set in as you called out for her, your voice swallowed by the cacophony of the celebration. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you felt a sinking feeling of helplessness.

Just as the world seemed to close in around you, a gentle voice broke through your anxiety.

"Hey, are you okay?"

You turned to see a boy about your age with kind and warm purple eyes and a reassuringly graceful smile. His dark hair framed his face, and he carried an air of calmness that immediately put you at ease. This young boy, his name was Geto Suguru, though you didn't know his name yet.

"I... I can't find my mom," you stammered, your voice trembling, wiping your tears away.

Geto's expression softened with understanding. "It's okay. I'll stay with you until we find her. Don't worry."

He took your hand in his, and together, you began to navigate the crowd. Despite the chaos around you, Geto's presence made you feel safe. He chatted with you, asking about your favorite games and food, distracting you from your fear. You found yourself laughing at his jokes and stories, the tension slowly easing from your shoulders.

As you wandered, Geto kept an eye out for anyone who might be looking for you. He was patient and kind, never letting go of your hand. His maturity and kindness were far beyond his years, and you were in awe of him. He seemed so composed, so generous, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration. There were stars in your eyes as you watched him interact with others, his gentle demeanor and thoughtful actions standing out amidst the bustling crowd.

You wondered if you could ever be like him—so good, so tender, so mature. The way he handled the situation with such grace and calmness inspired you. You admired his ability to stay composed and kind, even when faced with the daunting task of helping a stranger in distress. It made you aspire to be better, to embody those same qualities of compassion and maturity.

As the festival began to wind down and the crowd thinned out, Geto reached into his pocket and pulled out a small flip phone. With practiced ease, he dialed his mother's number, his fingers moving swiftly over the keypad. After a few moments, he brought the phone to his ear, his expression tense with anticipation.

"Mom?" he said, his voice soft but urgent. "I'm at the shrine. Can you come pick me up? I found someone who got separated from their mom."

As he spoke, you watched Geto's face, noting the concern etched into his features. Despite his calm demeanor, you could tell that he was worried about his own mother's reaction. But to your relief, his expression softened as he listened to the voice on the other end of the line.

"Okay, I'll wait here," Geto replied, his voice tinged with relief. "Thank you, Mom."

With a click, he closed the phone and slipped it back into his pocket. Turning to you, he offered a reassuring smile. "My mom is on her way. She'll be here soon."

True to his word, within minutes, a woman appeared in the distance, her face a mixture of concern and relief as she hurried toward you both. Geto's mother enveloped him in a tight hug, her eyes brimming with tears as she whispered words of reassurance.

"Suguru, are you okay? What happened?" she asked, her voice trembling with emotion.

Geto explained the situation, recounting how he had found you wandering alone in the crowd and stayed by your side until help arrived. His mother listened intently, her expression softening with pride as she looked at her son.

"You did the right thing, Suguru," she said, her voice filled with warmth and affection. "I'm so proud of you."

Together, Geto and his mother welcomed you both, offering words of comfort and reassurance. They stayed with you until your own mother arrived, her face a mixture of relief and gratitude as she hugged you tightly.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "I don't know what we would have done without you and your son."

Geto's mother smiled warmly, her eyes shining with kindness. "It was no trouble at all. I'm just glad we could help."

As the evening drew to a close and the festival began to wind down, it was time for you and Geto Suguru to part ways. You approached him, a mixture of gratitude and reluctance filling your heart. Geto turned to you, his gentle smile putting you at ease even as you felt a pang of sadness at the thought of saying goodbye.

"Thank you so much." you said, your voice filled with sincerity. "I don't know what I would have done without you."

Geto's smile widened, his eyes sparkling with warmth. "It was nothing, really," he replied modestly. "I'm just glad I could help."

Your mom whispers to you, that you should go home and get some rest. You nodded at her and you watched that boy wave his hand at you. You nodded back at him. You turn your back on him. But it was then, you gasp and turn around and run towards him, causing him to gasp as you lean against his personal space. 

"Hey, what's your name?" you asked, your curiosity getting the better of you.

"Geto Suguru," he replied, blinking as his voice responded softly.

You nodded, committing his name to memory. You introduced yourself too, extending your hand in friendship. He smiled at you, his purple eyes turning brightly back at you.

Geto shook your hand, his grip firm and reassuring. "It's nice to meet you," he said, a genuine smile lighting up his face. 

“It’s nice to meet you too.” You gleefully say back to him, grinning.

"I hope we meet again someday," Geto said, his voice tinged with sincerity.

You smiled back at him, your heart feeling lighter knowing that even though you were saying goodbye for now, there was a chance that your paths might cross again in the future.

"Me too," you replied, the words carrying a promise of friendship and possibility.

With a final wave, you and Geto went your separate ways, the memory of your chance encounter lingering in your thoughts long after the festival had ended. And as you made your way home, getting ready for bed, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the unexpected friendship. You think that this will fill your heart with joy for a long time.  One that had brightened your New Year's celebration and left a lasting imprint on your heart.

You lay in bed, moving to your side and closing your eyes.

You wonder if the gods would allow you one more wish.

You wish you could meet Geto Suguru when you wake up.

WHEN YOU MEET SUGURU AGAIN, IT WAS MIDDLE SCHOOL. The first day of middle school was a whirlwind of excitement and nerves, a kaleidoscope of emotions swirling through the air like leaves caught in a gentle breeze. As you stepped through the doors of the school, you were greeted by the lively buzz of students reuniting after the summer break, their voices rising and falling in a symphony of anticipation.

The corridors echoed with the sound of footsteps echoing on the linoleum floors, punctuated by the occasional burst of laughter or excited chatter. Lockers slammed shut with a metallic clang, backpacks were slung over shoulders, and pencils were nervously tapped against desks as students settled into their new classrooms.

Amidst the hustle and bustle, you couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation tinged with a hint of apprehension. Everything felt new and unfamiliar—the layout of the school, the faces of your classmates, the rhythm of the day unfolding before you.

As you made your way to your first class, you were met with a whirlwind of activity—a flurry of introductions, syllabus handouts, and icebreaker games designed to break the ice and ease the transition into the new academic year. The air crackled with energy as teachers and students alike embraced the opportunity for a fresh start, eager to embark on the journey that lay ahead.

In the hushed stillness of the classroom, amidst the shuffling of papers and the murmur of conversations, you found yourself unable to resist stealing short glances across the room. There, amidst the sea of unfamiliar faces, your eyes locked onto a figure that seemed oddly familiar—a flash of recognition igniting a spark of curiosity within you.

As the pieces fell into place, a realization washed over you like a wave crashing against the shore—it was Geto Suguru. The same Geto Suguru who had once been your companion in childhood, the same Geto Suguru who had shared in moments of laughter and understanding during that fateful New Year's festival all those years ago.

Your lips parted in silent astonishment as you stood there, a sense of wonderment enveloping you like a warm embrace. It was as if fate itself had intervened, weaving your paths together once more in a way that felt almost predestined—a serendipitous twist of fate that defied explanation yet felt undeniably right.

The realization that you and Geto were classmates filled you with a sense of awe and gratitude, the threads of destiny drawing you together in a way that transcended the boundaries of time and space. It was as if the universe had conspired to reunite you, stitching together the fabric of your lives in a way that felt both miraculous and inevitable.

In that moment of silent awe, a wave of comfort washed over you, soothing the fluttering nerves that had danced in your stomach upon realizing that Geto Suguru was indeed your classmate once more. It had been so long since you had seen him, since the days of childhood innocence and carefree laughter. And yet, despite the passage of time, the bond you shared felt as strong and immutable as ever.

With each step you took towards him, the distance between you seemed to shrink, bridging the gap that had separated you for so long. The morning light cast a soft glow upon his features, illuminating the contours of his face and the subtle changes that time had wrought. You couldn't help but notice how he had grown taller since you last saw him, how his frame had filled out with the promise of adulthood. His hair, once a tousled mop of unruly curls, was now neatly tied back in a bun, accentuating the angular lines of his jaw and the intensity of his gaze.

As you drew closer, you couldn't help but marvel at the transformation that had taken place—the way he had grown more beautiful and handsome with each passing year. There was a quiet strength in the set of his shoulders, a confidence in the way he carried himself that spoke of maturity and self-assurance. And yet, beneath the veneer of adulthood, you could still see traces of the boy you had known—the same warmth in his eyes, the same kindness in his smile.

In that moment, as you stood before him, the years melted away, leaving behind only the essence of your shared history and the promise of new beginnings.

"Geto–kun?" you uttered softly, the name slipping from your lips almost instinctively. 

Geto's gaze met yours, his expression mirroring your own sense of surprise and recognition. "Oh, it’s you!" he replied, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Fancy seeing you here."

You couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder at the serendipitous twist of fate that had brought you together once again. "I can't believe we're in the same class," you exclaimed, a hint of excitement in your voice. “After all this time, huh?”

"Yeah, it's pretty wild," Geto agreed, his eyes bright with a mixture of disbelief and amusement.

As the realization sank in, a flood of memories from your childhood encounter at the New Year's festival came rushing back. The shared laughter, the moments of quiet understanding—it all felt like a lifetime ago, yet here you were, reunited once again in the most unexpected of places.

"It's like fate brought us together," you mused, a sense of awe coloring your words.

Geto nodded, a thoughtful expression crossing his features. "Maybe it did," he replied, his voice tinged with a hint of wonder.

As you pondered the serendipitous nature of your reunion, a faint smile played at the corners of Geto's lips, mirroring the quiet sense of wonder that danced in his eyes.

"It's strange how life works sometimes," he continued, his voice soft and contemplative. "The way it brings people back into our lives when we least expect it."

You nodded in agreement, feeling a sense of kinship with Geto as you shared in the mystery of fate's guiding hand. "Yeah, it's like we were meant to find each other again," you remarked, a sense of certainty settling within you like a comforting embrace.

For a moment, the two of you stood in companionable silence, lost in the quiet beauty of the moment. The bustling classroom faded into the background, leaving behind only the warmth of shared memories and the promise of new beginnings.

"I'm glad we did," Geto said softly, his gaze meeting yours with a depth of understanding that resonated deep within your soul.

"Me too," you replied, a genuine smile gracing your lips as you felt the weight of the years slip away, leaving behind only the simple joy of reconnecting with an old friend.

As the bell rang, signaling the start of the day's lessons, you and Geto exchanged a knowing glance, silently acknowledging the significance of this unexpected reunion. And as you took your seats side by side, a sense of anticipation filled the air, carrying with it the promise of friendship and camaraderie that would endure far beyond the confines of the classroom walls.

You looked at him for a moment. 

His glance turns back at you too.

You smiled at him, he smiled at you.

You felt your face turn red for a moment.

Has his smile always looked this beautiful?

YOU BOTH WENT IN DIFFERENT SCHOOLS IN HIGH SCHOOL.Watching Suguru step into his new chapter at Jujutsu High filled you with a complex array of emotions. Pride swelled within you as you witnessed him embark on this journey he had long dreamed of. His determination, his dedication—it was inspiring to see him pursue his passion with such fervor and commitment. Yet, intertwined with that pride was a profound sense of longing, a yearning for his presence that tugged at your heartstrings with each passing moment.

The prospect of being apart from Suguru, even temporarily, casts a shadow over your excitement. The thought of not having him by your side, of not being able to share in each other's daily joys and struggles, left an ache in your chest that was difficult to ignore. As much as you wanted him to succeed and thrive at Jujutsu High, the prospect of being separated from him weighed heavily on your heart.

Every time you thought about Suguru navigating the challenges of his new school, facing dangerous cursed spirits and confronting the unknown, a wave of worry washed over you. You couldn't help but fret over his safety, over the dangers he might encounter in his quest to become a jujutsu sorcerer. The distance between you only amplified these fears, leaving you feeling helpless and vulnerable.

You had always known about Suguru's ability to see cursed spirits. You had witnessed firsthand the toll it took on him—the sleepless nights, the restless tossing and turning as his mind wrestled with the dark entities that plagued his existence. And though he always reassured you that he was fine, that he could handle it on his own, you couldn't help but worry about him.

As you sat together in Suguru's childhood bedroom, the dim glow of the bedside lamp casting shadows across the walls, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the air. Suguru had just confided in you about his ability to see cursed spirits, a revelation that sent a chill down your spine.

"I've always been able to see them," Suguru admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Ever since I was a child."

You listened intently as Suguru recounted his experiences, describing the terrifying visions that haunted his nights and the relentless whispers that echoed in his mind. It was as if he were living in a nightmare, trapped in a world where darkness lurked around every corner.

"And the worst part is," Suguru continued, his expression haunted, "I can't escape them. No matter where I go, they're always there, lurking in the shadows."

Your heart ached at the pain etched into Suguru's features, the weight of his burden evident in every word he spoke. You had witnessed firsthand the toll it took on him—the sleepless nights, the restless tossing and turning as his mind wrestled with the dark entities that plagued his existence.

"I'm fine, really," Suguru assured you, sensing your concern. "I've learned to live with it. But sometimes...sometimes it's hard to bear."

In that moment, as you gazed into Suguru's weary eyes, a surge of empathy washed over you. You couldn't begin to imagine the horrors he faced on a daily basis, the constant battle against forces beyond his control. Yet, despite the darkness that threatened to consume him, Suguru remained steadfast, his resilience a testament to his strength of character.

Wrapping your arms around him, you pulled Suguru close, offering whatever comfort you could in the face of his suffering. "You don't have to face this alone," you whispered, your voice filled with determination. "I'll be here for you, no matter what."

But amidst the whirlwind of emotions, there was a glimmer of hope—a deep-seated belief that no matter the distance, your bond with Suguru would endure. You clung to the memories you shared, the moments of laughter and love that had forged an unbreakable connection between you. And though the road ahead might be fraught with challenges and obstacles, you knew that together, you and Suguru could overcome anything.

So, as you watched him stride confidently into the halls of Jujutsu High, a sense of determination took root within you. You would weather this storm of separation, you would support Suguru from afar, and you would eagerly await the day when you could be reunited once more. For now, all you could do was hold onto the love you shared, trusting in its power to bridge the distance and keep your hearts connected, no matter where life may lead.

One thing that particularly concerned you was his aversion to the taste of cursed energy. Whenever he mentioned it, a pang of anxiety would grip your heart, knowing that he was enduring something unpleasant just to fulfill his duty as a jujutsu sorcerer.

Despite the distance between you, Suguru made sure to keep you updated on his well-being. He would send you messages whenever he had a free moment, sharing snippets of his day and letting you know that he was okay. And on his rare free days, you would make it a point to meet up with him, cherishing every precious moment you had together.

Your dates were a welcome respite from the challenges of long-distance, a chance for you to reconnect and strengthen your bond despite the miles that separated you. Whether it was a leisurely stroll through the park, a cozy dinner at your favorite restaurant, or simply spending quality time together at home, every moment with Suguru was a treasure to be cherished.

And though the distance between you was daunting at times, your love for each other remained steadfast and unwavering. Together, you navigated the ups and downs of long-distance with grace and resilience, knowing that no matter the obstacles you faced, your love would always endure.

As you and Suguru sat across from each other in a cozy café, the soft glow of candlelight casting a warm ambiance around you, you found yourselves catching up on each other's lives. Suguru had just finished recounting his latest adventures at Jujutsu High, regaling you with tales of intense training sessions and encounters with formidable curses. 

"It sounds like you've been keeping busy," you remarked with a smile, sipping on your latte. "How are things going at the school?"

Suguru nodded, his expression thoughtful. "It's challenging, but I'm managing," he replied, his tone calm and composed. "The training can be rigorous, but I'm learning a lot."

You nodded, though a hint of concern flickered in your eyes. "And what about the jujutsu sorcery? Is it... difficult?"

Suguru's gaze met yours, and for a moment, you thought you detected a shadow of hesitation in his eyes. But then, he offered you a reassuring smile. "It's not easy, but I'm okay," he assured you. "I've got some great teachers and classmates who help me out."

Despite his words, a knot of worry tightened in your chest. You had seen firsthand the toll that dealing with cursed spirits could take on Suguru, and while you trusted in his strength and resilience, you couldn't help but wonder if he was truly alright. 

"I'm glad to hear that you're getting support," you said, reaching across the table to gently place your hand on his. "But if things ever get too tough, if you ever need someone to talk to..."

Suguru's fingers intertwined with yours, his touch warm and reassuring. "Thank you," he said softly, his gaze sincere. "I appreciate that more than you know."

As you sat together in that intimate moment, the flickering candlelight casting dancing shadows across your faces, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together. With Suguru by your side, you felt a sense of strength and comfort that filled you with unwavering hope for the future. And as you leaned in to share a tender kiss, the worries of the world melted away, leaving only the warmth of your love and the promise of tomorrow.

As the year 2007 progressed, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss between you and Suguru. It started with small changes—missed calls, delayed responses to messages, and last-minute cancellations of plans. At first, you brushed it off, attributing it to his busy schedule with missions and training at Jujutsu High. He had a duty to that after all. You never questioned him about it.

But as time went on, Suguru's behavior became more pronounced. He became increasingly distant, avoiding your attempts to spend time together and offering vague excuses about being swamped with work. When you did manage to hang out, you couldn't ignore the noticeable shift in his demeanor. He seemed withdrawn, his usually vibrant energy replaced with a palpable sense of exhaustion.

Concern gnawed at your heart as you watched Suguru's health deteriorate before your eyes. "Suguru, are you okay?" you asked gently one evening, unable to ignore the worry that twisted in your gut.

He waved off your concern with a forced smile. "I'm fine, just tired from all the missions," he replied, his voice strained. "Don't worry about me."

But you couldn't shake the feeling that something deeper was troubling him. "Suguru, please," you insisted, reaching out to touch his arm. "You don't seem okay. Talk to me."

His expression darkened, and for a moment, you saw a flash of frustration in his eyes. "I said I'm fine," he snapped, pulling away from your touch. "You don't need to keep asking."

The tension between you simmered beneath the surface, unresolved and heavy with unspoken words. "I just want to help," you murmured, your voice tinged with hurt. "But I can't do that if you won't let me in."

Suguru's jaw tensed, his gaze hardening. "I don't need your help," he retorted, his tone sharp with irritation. "I can handle things on my own."

The words stung like a knife to your heart, leaving you reeling with a sense of rejection. "But I care about you, Suguru," you whispered, your voice cracking with emotion. "I can't just stand by and watch you suffer."

A heavy silence settled between you, thick with unresolved tension and unspoken fears. In that moment, you realized that despite your love for Suguru, you were powerless to ease his pain if he refused to let you in. And as the weight of his distance pressed down upon you like a suffocating blanket, you couldn't help but wonder if your relationship could weather this storm—or if it was destined to crumble beneath the weight of unspoken truths and untold secrets.

The air crackled with tension as Suguru's conflicted emotions waged war within him. He wanted to reach out, to grasp onto your comforting presence, but the weight of his burdens held him back like chains around his heart. Each moment spent in your company only served to amplify his guilt and shame, reminders of the facade he was desperately trying to maintain.

"I'm sorry," Suguru murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes cast downward in shame. "I just... I can't do this anymore."

Your heart clenched at his words, aching with the pain of impending loss. "What do you mean?" you asked, your voice trembling with fear.

Suguru shook his head, unable to meet your gaze. "I can't keep pretending like everything's okay when it's not," he admitted, his words heavy with resignation. "I need to figure things out on my own."

The finality of his words hung in the air like a heavy shroud, suffocating any hope of reconciliation. Tears welled in your eyes as you struggled to comprehend the sudden unraveling of your relationship, the dreams you had woven together now torn asunder by the cruel hand of fate.

"I understand," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion, though the pain of acceptance felt like a dagger to your heart. "I just wish... I wish things could have been different."

Suguru's shoulders slumped in defeat, his own anguish mirrored in the depths of his gaze. "So do I." he admitted, his voice thick with unshed tears. "But sometimes... sometimes it's better to let go than to hold on to something that's already broken. I can’t hurt you more than I already have.”

Your heart clenched at his words, each syllable a dagger piercing through the fragile remnants of your shattered dreams. The weight of his pain, his self-imposed exile, bore down upon you with suffocating force, leaving you gasping for breath in the wake of his confession.

"Suguru, please..." you pleaded, your voice cracking with emotion, reaching out for him as if to bridge the ever-widening chasm between you. "Don't shut me out. We can work through this together."

But Suguru's resolve remained steadfast, his gaze haunted by the ghosts of his past and the specter of his uncertain future. "I can't," he whispered, his voice barely audible above the tumult of your emotions. "I need to do this alone."

Tears welled in your eyes as you watched him turn away, his silhouette fading into the darkness with each step. The ache of his absence echoed in the hollow chambers of your heart, a void that seemed impossible to fill.

As the weight of his absence settled over you like a heavy blanket, you couldn't help but wonder if this was truly the end. If the love you had once shared was destined to fade into nothingness, swallowed whole by the vast expanse of time and distance.

But even as you grappled with the pain of separation, a flicker of hope danced in the recesses of your soul. Perhaps, in letting go, you would find the strength to heal, to move forward, to forge a new path untethered by the chains of the past.

Heavy heart and tear-stained cheeks, you whispered.

The sound of silent farewells shuddered in the cold air.

You try to live through the ashes of your broken dreams.

But you would be fine, you knew you would be one day.

Suguru loved you enough to bear the weight of the world.

THINGS CHANGED OVER NINE YEARS.  You couldn't shake the feeling that you'd never truly move on from Suguru. His presence lingered in the recesses of your mind, a constant reminder of what once was and what could have been. But life was relentless in its forward march, indifferent to your heartache and longing. You knew you had to move on, to carve out a path for yourself in a world that would keep spinning regardless of your pain.

In the days and weeks that followed, tears became a familiar companion, each drop a silent tribute to the love you had lost. But with time, you found solace in the gentle rhythm of life's ebb and flow. You learned to navigate the world with a newfound resilience, allowing the pain of your past to shape you into someone stronger, someone more resilient than you ever thought possible.

As the days turned into months and the months into years, you grew around the grief in your heart, like a vine winding its way around a sturdy tree. You became a new person—a version of yourself that your past self would hardly recognize. You embraced new experiences, pursued your passions with unwavering determination, and forged connections with those who filled your life with light and warmth.

And though Suguru would always hold a special place in your heart, you came to understand that moving on didn't mean forgetting or erasing the past. It meant honoring the memories you shared while making space for new beginnings, new adventures, and new love to bloom.

As you navigated the bustling streets of Tokyo, the weight of your responsibilities pressed heavily upon your shoulders. The city buzzed with activity, a stark contrast to the whirlwind of emotions churning within you. In the nine years since parting ways with Suguru, life had taken unexpected turns, leading you down paths you never imagined traversing.

Becoming a mother had been the greatest joy amidst the tumultuous journey of life. The moment your son entered the world, a surge of indescribable love washed over you, eclipsing the pain of your past and filling your heart with boundless happiness. Holding him in your arms for the first time, you knew that your life would never be the same—that every sacrifice, every struggle, was worth it for the sake of this precious new life. 

You had always wanted a life like this with Suguru. You had always thought that you would end up having a lifetime together, to have children, to have normal lives — to grow old together. When you looked at your son, you thought about the life that had been robbed from you by fate, but also the hope that came with the birth of the most precious thing in your life. Your son was, after all, your pride and joy.

Parenthood brought with it a sense of purpose unlike anything you had experienced before. From sleepless nights to endless diaper changes, every moment spent caring for your son filled you with a sense of fulfillment and contentment you never thought possible. Watching him grow and thrive, witnessing his first steps and hearing his infectious laughter, became the highlights of your days, grounding you in the present and reminding you of the beauty that existed amidst life's chaos.

Despite the challenges of balancing motherhood with your career, you found moments of joy in the simple pleasures of everyday life. From bedtime stories and snuggles to impromptu dance parties in the living room, each day brought new opportunities to cherish the bond you shared with your son, a bond forged in the unbreakable bonds of love and devotion.

And as you raced through the crowded streets of Tokyo, your thoughts drifted to the little boy eagerly awaiting your arrival at school. In his laughter and in his smile, you found solace and strength, a reminder that no matter where life's journey took you, the love of your family would always be the anchor that held you steady amidst the storm.

Today, however, brought with it a new challenge—a decision that would alter the course of your lives once again. Your husband, a foreigner whose stint in Japan was coming to an end, had been called back to Europe. After much deliberation, you both had decided to accompany him, embarking on a new adventure in a foreign land.

As you hurried to pick up your child from school, a sense of urgency pulsed through your veins. His teacher had informed you that he would be finishing up his language lessons, buying you some much-needed time to make it there before his class ended.

Breathless and slightly disheveled, you finally arrived at the school, your heart pounding in your chest as you scanned the bustling courtyard for any sign of your son. And then, amidst the sea of unfamiliar faces, you saw him—Geto Suguru, standing there in a traditional geto-kesa, engaged in conversation with one of the middle school teachers. 

Your pulse quickened at the sight of him, a flood of memories washing over you like a tidal wave. It had been so long since you had last seen each other, and yet, in that moment, it felt as though no time had passed at all. Quiet eyes feasting upon him, relearning him after a decade of him disappearing from your world. 

As you approached him, your heart hammered in your chest, uncertainty and longing warring within you. Would he even remember you after all these years? And more importantly, did you still hold a place in his heart as he did in yours?

Summoning every ounce of courage you possessed, you called out his name, the sound barely audible amidst the cacophony of voices around you. And then, as he turned to face you, his expression a mixture of surprise and recognition, you knew that some things truly never change.

As Suguru turned to face you, his eyes widened in surprise, a flicker of recognition crossing his features. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as you stood before each other, the weight of the years that had passed between you palpable in the air. The teacher seemed a bit flustered, but you smiled at them and bowed with an apology. They seemed to understand, they bowed and left.

"Suguru," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper, the name feeling both foreign and achingly familiar on your lips. “Hi.”

Recognition dawned in his eyes as he studied your face, his expression softening with a hint of nostalgia. "It’s you." he replied, his voice a quiet murmur that seemed to echo with the weight of unspoken memories.

He took in the image of you, one that has matured, has grown, has changed over the course of a decade. Yet there was something in his eyes, a conflict, when he looked at you. You didn’t understand why, you didn’t understand where it came from but you didn’t say anything. You just let this moment stay as it was. You let your eyes quietly take in how he has grown in these years. And you know, he was doing the same with you.

The years melted away in an instant as you stood there, lost in each other's gaze, the past and present converging in a bittersweet collision of emotions. It was as if no time had passed at all, as if you were once again the young souls who had shared secrets beneath the cherry blossom tree, bound together by an invisible thread that transcended the passage of time.

"It's been a long time," he murmured, his warm voice neutral as he looked at you. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

You nodded, unable to tear your gaze away from his. "Too long." you agreed softly, the ache of longing and regret threading through your words. “I just….this is a surprise.”

“I should say that.” He whispers back to you. “How have you been?”

“Good,” You smiled at him, fidgeting with your gloved hands. “I’ve just been busy with life.”

Suguru's gaze softened as he listened to your words, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I'm glad to hear that," he replied, his voice warm with sincerity. "Life has a way of keeping us on our toes, doesn't it?"

You nodded, a wistful expression crossing your features. "It certainly does," you agreed softly, the weight of the years weighing heavily on your shoulders. "But enough about me. How about you? How have you been?"

A flicker of emotion crossed Suguru's face, his expression momentarily guarded before he offered you a small, reassuring smile. "I've been... managing," he replied carefully, his words laced with a hint of uncertainty. “It’s been a lot.”

“I’m….I’m glad that you’re managing.” You mumbled back to him, unsure of what to say. “It’s rough to be an adult now.”

You studied his face, noting the subtle tension in his features and the guarded look in his eyes. It was clear that there was more to his story than he was letting on, but you didn't press him further. Instead, you offered him a gentle smile, hoping to convey your support and understanding without words.

"Well, if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here," you said softly, the sincerity in your voice unmistakable. "No matter what, you'll always have a friend in me."

Suguru's smile widened at your words, a flicker of gratitude shining in his eyes. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice filled with genuine appreciation. "That means more to me than you know."

Silence stretched between you, heavy with unspoken words and unresolved emotions. In that moment, you both stood on the precipice of something uncertain, the weight of your shared history hanging between you like a fragile thread.

As Suguru's gaze shifted towards you, his brows furrowed in confusion, a question lingering on his lips. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his tone tinged with curiosity.

Before you could respond, a familiar voice echoed across the hall, drawing your attention away from Suguru. You turned just in time to see your son rushing towards you, his arms outstretched in excitement. With a laugh bubbling up from deep within you, you opened your arms wide, ready to catch him in a warm embrace.

As your son leaped into your arms, his laughter filling the air, you couldn't help but feel a surge of joy and warmth wash over you. Holding him close, you pressed a kiss to his cheek, relishing in the simple pleasure of being reunited with the one who brought so much light into your life.

In the midst of the joyful reunion, you failed to notice the subtle shift in Suguru's demeanor. His gaze lingered on you and your son, his expression clouded with a mixture of emotions—confusion, disbelief, and perhaps even a hint of resentment.

As you finally turned back to face Suguru, his eyes met yours, his expression guarded and unreadable. It was clear that something had shifted between you, a rift forming between the two of you that seemed impossible to bridge. And in that moment, you couldn't help but wonder if perhaps some wounds were too deep to heal, no matter how much time had passed.

As the weight of Suguru's gaze bore down on you, a pang of sadness tugged at your heart. You had hoped that this unexpected reunion would bring a sense of closure, a chance to reconnect and perhaps even rebuild what had been lost between you. But now, as you stood before him, the distance between you felt insurmountable.

Summoning a smile that felt forced, you attempted to break the tension that hung heavy in the air. "This is my son," you explained, gesturing towards the young boy in your arms. "His name is Shouma.”

Suguru's eyes softened slightly at the introduction, a flicker of recognition crossing his features. For a moment, he looks at your son and sees nothing but you. He was you when you were younger. You when he first felt what joy, what life looks like in all its glory.

His eyes scan lower as the boy played with his nametag. Purple orbs widened slightly as he read the letters of the boy's name. 憧 for longing. 真 for genuine. He meets your gaze for a moment. It was the moment he knew. You pursed your lips into a flat line as you lowered your gaze, busying yourself with fixing your son's shoelaces.

Shouma.

Genuine.

Longing.

"He's... he's beautiful," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “Looks exactly like you.”

“That’s what my husband said.” You responded, a tight smile on your lips as you said those words. You could see something in his face shift. Despite the warmth in his words, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of your stomach. There was something about the way Suguru looked at you and your son—a mixture of longing and regret—that left you feeling unsettled. “He is my mini-me.”

“He really is.”

When the bell sounded, the steps of children and the ringing of their voices echoed across the rooms and into the halls. It was then two children, twin girls, excitedly rushed when they saw Suguru standing near you. The two girls, Mimiko and Nanako, whose names were written in their name-tags, emerged from their classroom happily. You watched them embrace Suguru as they spoke and chattered. You take your son’s hand, who looks at the older girls in front of him.  

You couldn't help but notice the apprehensive mistrust in their gaze as they glanced at you and your son. Their eyes held a mixture of curiosity and wariness, as though unsure of what to make of the unexpected encounter. They’d never seen you in their entire lives before, you were a stranger. They didn’t know you. They clung closer to Suguru, as though to instinctively protect him. 

Suguru, sensing the tension, stepped forward to bridge the gap between his daughters and your little family. With a gentle smile, he introduced you and your son, his voice warm yet tinged with a hint of unease. "Mimiko, Nanako, this is an old friend of mine and her son," he explained, his gaze flickering between you and his daughters. “These two angels are my daughters.” 

As the introductions were made, you couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness wash over you. They seem to let their guard down slightly, as you watch them cling less towards Suguru and greet you cordially, almost shyly. You smiled at them. They seem to be polite girls. Suguru had raised them well, with all the love in the world. 

You were glad that Suguru had managed to build a family, a life beyond what you had—one that seemed to have escaped the grief, pain, and misery that had engulfed him when you last saw each other. Even if it wasn’t with you. But as you looked into each other's eyes, you saw the same mourning glint reflected in his gaze, a silent acknowledgment of the 'what if' that would forever linger in the shadows of your hearts.

The presence of Mimiko and Nanako, standing by Suguru's side, served as a bittersweet reminder of the life you were supposed to have together. A life where you imagined waking up beside him, raising children together, sharing dreams and burdens. But that future had slipped through your fingers like sand, and now you stood on separate shores, each tethered to a different destiny.

You knew you would never leave your husband. He had been your anchor, your partner through the ups and downs, the father of your cherished son. Your life with him was built on love and commitment, and you were grateful for the family you had. Yet, the ache of what might have been remained, a quiet sorrow that echoed in the moments of stillness and reflection.

Suguru’s eyes, filled with a mix of pride and melancholy, told you he felt the same. He too mourned the lost possibilities, the dreams that had withered in the wake of your separation. The shared sorrow created a bond, a silent understanding that no amount of time could erase.

Meeting Suguru's gaze, you saw the turmoil reflected in his eyes, mirroring the conflicting emotions swirling within your own heart. It was as though the ghosts of your past lives were living through your regrets, haunting you with the memories of what could have been.

"I’m happy for you, Suguru," you said softly, your voice tinged with genuine warmth. "You've built something beautiful."

He nodded, the corner of his mouth lifting in a bittersweet smile. "And you too. Your son... he's wonderful."

Before either of you could say more, your son tugged at your hand, his innocent eyes wide with curiosity. "Mom, who are they?" he asked, glancing at Suguru and his daughters.

You crouched down to your son's level, smoothing his hair affectionately. "This is Suguru, mama’s old friend. And these are his daughters, Mimiko and Nanako."

Your son smiled shyly at the girls, and they responded with slow, but tentative smiles of their own. The innocence of the children contrasted sharply with the complex emotions swirling between you and Suguru, a poignant reminder of the simplicity and purity of childhood. Somehow, reminisce about how you and Suguru met. 

“You raised them well, Suguru.” You smiled at him. “They got your kindness too.”

“And your son, he’s everything that’s you.” He retorts back, a quiet smile on his lips. 

As the conversation continued, you felt a mix of sadness and acceptance. Life had moved on, taking you down different paths, but the connection you once shared with Suguru remained, however muted by time and circumstance. You would always mourn the life that could have been, but you knew that the choices you made had led you to where you were meant to be.

Suguru’s voice broke through your reverie. "Take care of yourself, and your family," he said, his tone carrying the weight of unspoken words.

"You too, Suguru," you replied, your heart heavy yet resolute. “Thank you for letting me….relive a past life.”

He took a deep breath and smiled for a bit. “You too. Thank you.”

But as the sounds of the bustling city called to you, you knew that some things were better left unsaid.Some things were best left as they were — past lives. You took your son’s hand and kissed the top of his head. You looked at Suguru and nodded.  With a heavy heart and a sense of resignation, you offered him a small, bittersweet smile. 

"It's good to see you, Suguru," you said, the words laced with a quiet ache.

His gaze softened, a flicker of regret dancing in the depths of his eyes.  "You too," he replied softly, his voice barely above a softened whisper.

It wasn’t lost on Suguru, the irony of you being the last to walk away.

As he lay dying, his quiet eyes shifting to the ground of his past life,

He smiles, thinking about how good it was to see you one last time.

He hopes in the next life, you would live a long happy life together.

If the gods were kind, they'd let you love each other once again.

[bones4thecats]

Heyy hii hellooo , hruuu and what's your fav cat breed , btw can i req a leonidas , Nikola Tesla , hades , and Hercules x fem!homura akemi!reader

I hope you watch Madoka Magica , i just want a simple long ahh angst and then fluff

So basically the reader is like the goddess of time (for the gods part) and a time traveler(for the humans part) the reader basically repeat the same month that Ragnarok has taken place for over 1200 years just to save them from their fate which was turning into a green weed snort dust in because the charas are who she hold dear so much since they are her husband , each time she failed and failed and that affect the universe since she bend the time around the charas making them stronger but each timeline they just die , and i want them to confront the reader Abt it and then the reader is like having a meltdown or something and then tell em all the stuff she have been doing to the point she almost gone insane with all the timeline of watching them die

And after that can you just put on like a huge comfort scene where the charas finally survive and comfort the reader after all the pain she gone through

I hope you don't mind , sorry if it too muchhh srryyyyyy

A/N: Okay, my favorite cat breed is the Birman, it's just so fluffy and cute!! It also reminds me of a Siamese. This is one of the saddest things I have ever written, so expect to cry a few tears and then feel like your heart’s gonna explode! This is kinda themed after the song Haunted by Taylor Swift because I was listening to it while writing. Enjoy~~

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

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🚬 You had tried so many times, yet you always fail… why?

🚬 Why wasn’t it fair then, why wasn’t it fair now? Why did he have to die, why couldn’t that selfish and impish God Apollo die?!

🚬 1,200 years you have tried, over 103,782 attempts have been made in counting, maybe this would be the one to work!

🚬 But it was too much for one person to watch their one and only, their husband, die over and over and over by the same cause

🚬 You watched as he trained, and you couldn’t stop crying each time

🚬 Leonidas looked over at you and grinned his signature grin saying, ready for battle

🚬 When he hugged you that night you started to cry and not stop, which caused him to look at you with shock

🚬 You never cried

🚬 He kneeled down and tilted your head towards his face, his eyes asking the same question over and over again

“ Are you okay, my love? “

🚬 That was when you let loose, spilling everything, the endless death and depression you had gone through just to see him win, it made his heart ache

🚬 You went through all of this to see him come out on top, to see him alive again

🚬 Leonidas held you and shushed you, while you mumbled how it wasn’t fair since no matter how much you tried it never worked

“ You cannot escape fate, love. But, no matter what happens, believe me, I will always, always be by your side. No matter what. “ “ Promise? “ “ I promise. “

🚬 And he did. He won. He beat that snobbish bastard, Humanity cheered for the win while you smiled and cried happy tears for another reason

🚬 You finally did it, he lived…

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🧪 This stupid myth wasn’t coming to fruition, it said every time you traveled, he’d grow stronger! Just how much more strength did he need?!

🧪 Time after time again he died from that depleaded and god-awful immortal Beelzebub, why did he have to live?!

🧪 He hurt a child for crying out loud, causing him to turn into a blood-thirsty monster for the heck of it! He didn’t deserve life! He showed no remorse for what he had done, even Thor showed some of it to Lü Bu!

🧪 While thriving on the past, you were watching Nikola work on a problem for his armor for Ragnarok and you smiled when he got the fact right, it was better than last time, maybe this was it?

🧪 He did the same thing as last time, but he added more weaponry and more strength to it per your request, now maybe it could work!

🧪 You sat by Hlökk and Jack while the fight ensued, and you were praying that he would win, that your husband could finally come home safe and sound

🧪 And he did it… he- he beat Beelzebub!

🧪 Nikola was healing as you jumped onto him, he chuckled and kissed your forehead, and that was when you let it loose

🧪 You spilled the tea, all of it, the 1,200 years of torment that you faced watching him die, the same fate over and over and over again, not being able to stop it hurt

“ Darling, I am sorry for failing you so many times. “ “ It’s not your fault, you’re here now… and I’m thankful. “ “ I am thankful as well, Y/N… “

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💀 No, no, no, no!

💀 Every god-forsaken time, the same damn thing!

💀 Oh that human will pay for his insolence, killing the King that you loved was a crime only punishable by death at the hands of his victim!

💀 Every single time that Hades proclaimed his wish to fight, you were with him, helping him train to beat that puny being

💀 But every time it wasn’t enough, and it hurt so much…

💀 And the way that human smiled and had every human there cheering for him made you sick, many lost an ally, Zeus, Hermes, Ares, and Adamas all lost a brother and uncle, one that cared for them oh so much, and you…

💀 You lost your one and only love…

💀 But maybe this time it would work! It said that they grew stronger every time you traveled, so maybe now it would be right!

💀 Hades looked up at you and smiled as he prepared for battle, and every cut and bruise only gave you the biggest PTSD stain in history

💀 He couldn’t die, he just couldn’t!

💀 And when the cry of Zeus’ cry entered your ears, you started to doubt everything

💀 It worked, it finally fucking worked!

💀 You had never sprinted that hard before into the arms of your love, dragging him to the infirmary after sharing the best kiss known to the Gods

💀 Hades saw how sad yet happy your eyes were while he healed, and when he looked at you and asked why you were so down, you tole him everything, sobbing the process

" My dear, you've seen that happen all those times? For that long? " *Sigh* " I apologize for not being able to change that for so long, but, now we can start the life we've always wanted, by each others sides for eternity. "

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💪 He was the kindest soul you had ever met, why would fate just screw him over like this?!

💪 You understood he knew Jack far better than you, but watching the human just kill your lover blinded all of your judgement, no matter what

💪 Heracles had died so many times in front of you that you felt like crying tears of joy and sadness from both seeing him alive and from knowing what was bound to happen

💪 This time he had been talking to his adoptive brother, Ares, when you traveled back to see him and try getting him to survive, and seeing him with the only other person who wept and understood how much the lose of him affected you just hurt

💪 He called out to you and hugged you in his arms while calling his goodbyes to Ares, in which the God of War just smiled and waved back

💪 Your husband was the one person you didn't want to lie to anymore, and you hopes that after 1,200 years, this may be the final time you'd have to travel to save him

💪 You grabbed his hand which caused Heracles to turned around and give you a curious look, and that was when you told him

" 1,200 years for me? Angel, you... you didn't have to do all of this for me! "

💪 Heracles looked at you with shock, he figured nobody would drain themselves physically or mentally to the point of near insanity just for him...

💪 He hugged you even closer and he swore the same thing you heard over the last thousand years;

" I'll be safe, and when this is all over, we'll rest together just like before... I promise. "

💪 Your husband laid the most gentle kiss on your lips ever as you nodded, believing the words more than you ever did before

💪 Before Round 4 of Ragnarok started, you strolled over to the Humans side to speak to their fighter, Jack the Ripper, so you could get something clear

" In these last 1,200 years, I have been trying to get my husband back... as whenever he fought against you, he lost... died at your hands. And while I respect you and everything you have done for your people, I am just asking you one thing; Is this really what you want to be known for? Pure murder? "

💪 When Jack was about to kill Heracles, he remembered your words and smiled humbly before lowering his hands to the ground and laying on his knees, causing Heracles to stop and stare at the male

" I do not wish to kill you, God. " " Heracles. And Jack, I do not wish to kill you. This match stays at a draw! "

💪 All Gods and Humans were obviously pissed, but you got your husband back, and one of your previously close friends. Win-Win for you!

[tojiscumdumpster]

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ii. reader

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⭑๋࣭ summary page

please refresh your memory of the content warnings that's mentioned on the summary page. this chapter will include s*xual activites.

I am met with the sun glaring at me through the windows of my penthouse and the feel of my Siamese cat, Oreo, rubbing her head on my face to wake me up for her breakfast. And of course, left with the emptiness of the bed I hoped would be filled with my husband. I rub my eyes to glance at the clock to see that it’s nine o’clock, which is way past my regular wake up time. It’s been a while since I slept in, and my mind immediately replayed the events of last night. 

  I cheated on my husband. 

 I didn't know how to feel about it, however, I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel good. 

 My sore body would tell me otherwise. 

 I don’t remember the last time I had sex. The last time I was looked at and fucked with pure hunger. The last time I was stretched and orgasmed three times in one sitting unless it was because of my vibrator. It’s been so long, the feeling started to feel foreign to me. . . Until last night. 

  Geto Suguru. 

 He has some good dick on him, but damn, he’s a fucking asshole. Nothing I’m not used to, though. It seems like my pussy has a soft spot for them. I’ve denied men and their advances for months, years, at that. But my body was craving to be worshiped. To feel alive again. I’ve been neglected by my husband for far too long. He hasn’t touched me, let alone looked at me in almost ten months. I’m always met with the excuse that he’s tired or busy with work. 

 Of course, my first thought was to think maybe he was going through something mentally, so I tried to make sure that he was okay, but he told me not to worry. 

 I thought he wasn’t attracted to me anymore. I have gained weight since we got married. When I brought that up, rather than reassure me, he said I was overthinking, which only led me to overthink even more.

Cheating never crossed my mind regardless of his promiscuous past he had before we met. 

 He wouldn’t do that to me. 

  Right, Y/N?

 No. He wouldn’t. It’s just—I can’t win in this marriage, and the natural thing to do is ask for a divorce, but what am I supposed to do? I’m a stay-at-home housewife wife in a foreign country. I trusted my husband enough to take care of me because that’s what he promised. 

 At least he was able to stick to his word about that. 

 It feels nice not to work. Be spoiled and have the luxuries. But I don’t care about that. I wanted to be loved and feel wanted. I crave attention from my husband. Not anyone else. 

  Just take it for me.

 I just want to make you cum one more time. Is that okay?

 Oreo’s meowing breaks me from my memories of last night. 

 “Ah. Okay, okay. I’m sorry, Oreo,” I say, scratching behind her ear. “Let’s get you some food.” I get out of bed and make my way to the kitchen to fill my starving feline’s bowl and pour her water. 

 I need to get my day started. I remembered I have a lunch date with my best friend at noon, so I headed to the bathroom to get ready. 

 After showering, I stood in front of the mirror while brushing my teeth and noticed a love mark on the left side of my neck. 

 “Fuck,” I mutter to myself. 

 I’m not too fond of hickys, but I was too busy being a whimpering mess while getting stuffed with cock that wasn’t my husband’s. I don’t need to worry about him seeing. He’s on a business trip, so I’m sure it’ll be healed by the time he returns.

 It’s not like he pays attention to me anyways. 

 But I need to cover it up for my lunch date with my best friend because I know she’ll throw back-to-back questions at me that I don’t feel like answering. 

 That was my first and last time cheating on my husband, and I’m not planning on doing it again. 

  Thank you for giving me this good pussy.

 Do you realize how good you feel?

 His words invade my mind and pool wetness between my thighs. I finish brushing my teeth and stare at myself in the mirror. 

 Suguru touched me. The touch of his hands exploring my curves lingers on and burns my flesh. Our fornication wasn’t even intimate, but I felt like I was taken care of. A stranger was able to figure out my kinks and pinpoints that made me explode. 

  I want him.  

 I wanted to be fucked like that again—but only by him . 

 “Gosh, Y/N. What the hell is wrong with you?” Again, I whisper out loud to myself because, yes. What is wrong with me? 

 I’m married. I have been for seven years. I shouldn’t be lusting over another man. This gnawing guilt in my stomach won’t go away. It’s fine. I’ll be okay. I’ll tell my husband when he returns and atone for my sins. Until then, I won’t have to worry about seeing Suguru again. I won’t think about him either. Despite how fucking good he made me feel. It shouldn’t be hard. We didn’t exchange numbers. So I will be okay. 

  Right?

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀A month later. . .

 My errands for today consisted of grocery shopping and picking out new furniture for the penthouse I share with my husband. I’m tired of staring at the black-and-white décor. I love the combination, but the lack of warmth makes me feel even more alone. If I can’t feel at home with my husband, then I’ll make it feel like home for myself. It’s missing earth tones, plants, colors, everything. 

 It would be easy for me to hire an interior designer, but doing it myself will keep me busy and my mind off of...

  Look at my pretty girl taking this fucking cock.

 His pretty girl. . .

  Y/N. No.

 How I abused my clit since that night with Suguru, I know she’s tired of me. It’s been a month. I should’ve forgotten about him by now. And I definitely should’ve already told my husband. I just couldn’t find the courage to do so. 

 He returned from his business trip four days after I cheated on him and I didn’t care to mention it. I figured if we didn’t sleep together, let alone in the same room, what was the point of telling him? I honestly think he wouldn’t care. He probably is cheating on me. He's forty years old and I know his libido is through the roofs. 

 I would know.

 Nothing can convince me that he hasn’t had sex in ten months. Every month he has a business trip. Maybe he’s off to see his mistress. Who knows?

 I’m making dinner tonight and he said he’ll be there. I’m not holding it to him, though. If he shows, I’ll tell him about my infidelity then. 

 All this shopping I did is making me tired. Coffee in the middle of the day sounds right to me. It didn’t take long for me to pull up to my favorite bakery. I walked inside and allowed the sweet aroma of treats and the nuttiness of freshly brewed coffee to infiltrate my senses. 

 The shop is pretty busy, so the line is long as expected. While I wait, I give my attention to my phone and scroll through my unread messages:

  Best friend

  Girl, I am long overdue for a vacation. Let’s start planning!

  Mom

  Honey, you’re coming home for the holidays. Right? Your father and I miss you. 

  Husband.

  What time are you coming home?

Why the fuck does he care? I replied to my best friend and mother but left my husband unread. Since when does he care for my whereabouts? Annoyance pricks my skin just seeing the message. I opted to call him instead of texting him back to see if there was something he needed, but the interruption of a familiar voice from behind caught my attention. 

 “Excuse me, beautiful. It looks like you’re next.”

  No . It couldn’t be. 

 I whip lashed my head around to be met with dark raven hair that’s pulled into a bun, different from what I remember a month ago. 

 Those tattooed covered arms I remember holding me up while fucking my pussy.

 We’re no longer in a dimmed setting, so the light shines on his irises allowing the deep violet color to become evident. Specks of sweat coats his forehead, and by his attire, he must’ve finished working out. But even so, he smells so damn good. Dark. Woody with a mixture of his natural odor. 

 Fuck, Y/N. Get it together. 

 I cleared my throat, pretending like I wasn’t affected by his presence. “Geto.”

 “Suguru,” he countered.

 I was so stunned by his appearance and became distracted from our intense eye contact, I didn’t even realize the barista was calling me forward because I was next in line.

 I immediately looked away from Suguru to move up, place my order, and attempted to pay, but of course, Suguru had other plans.

 He came beside me and pulled out his card. “We’re together. Coffee. Tall. Dark. No milk or sugar.” 

 “I can pay-”

 “For your tab. I know,” he interrupted. It’s like deja vu from the night we. . . 

  Y/N.

 He continued. “Gosh, can I simply just be kind and pay for you? Are you really that prideful?” 

 “Go fu-” I realized he was teasing me, so reacting would only give him the satisfaction he was looking for. “Thank you, Geto.”

 “Suguru and you’re welcome, Y/N,” he smirks. 

 How he says my name causes me to swallow a small gulp and subtly squeeze my thighs. It’s like those pale pink lips were meant to say my name. 

 No. I’m not supposed to be having these pornographic thoughts about him anymore. It’s time for me to go.

 I thank the barista for making my drink and storm out the door to head back to my car. But of course, behind me comes the reason for these wet fantasies in my mind and why power walking out the bakery.

 “Y/N!”

 I continued walking. “What do you want?” 

 “I haven’t seen you in a month and you’re acting like I’m some kind of pestering bug.” He finally catches up to me, softly grabs my wrists, and turns me around. That touch spreads chills throughout my body and alarms my pussy. I just know any longer with him I’m going to explode. 

 I can feel Suguru looking at me, but I refuse to meet his eyes. “What do you want?” I ask again.

 “I just want to see how you’re doing. Maybe get to know you. Is that okay?” He asks, gently.

  I just want to make you cum one more time. Is that okay?

 Fuck.

 “Okay. Fine. You can walk me to my car, but after that, leave me alone. Got it?” I demanded. 

 He chuckles, throwing his hands up in surrender, flexing those sexy arms. “Got it.”

 For the next few minutes, I walk in silence while listening to Suguru talk and ask me questions that I give nods or vague answers. Eventually, time slows down and it feels like my car is further away the more he and I talk. But honestly, I don’t mind.

 Aside from his asshole tendencies, he's sweet. His constant compliments that I haven’t heard in a while make my cheeks warm. I’m blessed with dark skin because had it been otherwise, I would have resembled a cherry tomato. 

 We disposed of our finished coffee cups and finally reached my car, which he coincidentally parked right next to me. 

 I leaned against my door and looked into his eyes. “Hm, I haven’t seen you in a month, you end up at my favorite bakery, and you’re parked right next to me?” I ask, teasingly. “If I didn’t know any better, you’ve been keeping tabs on me, Geto.”

 He closes the space between us, rubbing his hand along my arms. “Or maybe it’s just fate?”

 I slowly but surely feel myself coming undone from his subtle actions and how he speaks to me. I know what I’m doing isn’t right, but I just can’t bring myself to say no. Suguru gives me the attention I want. The attention I’ve been yearning for from my husband, and I can’t deny it any longer. 

 “ . . . Geto ,” I say barely above a whisper. 

 “ Suguru, baby. Call me, Suguru.” He runs his nose along my neck, deeply inhaling my scent and exhaling in pure pleasure. 

 His hand that’s rubbing my arms trails down to intertwine with my fingers while his other rests on my hips. That touch I can't get rid of returns to my skin and the heat of his hands burns me all over again. I don’t know when, how, or why but I whimper. 

  Take this cock like a good girl because I know you can.

 Yes. I want to take it. I need to again, but I... 

 “I can’t, Suguru. I can’t,” I murmured. 

 He peppers soft yet possessive kisses across my face before descending to my jaw and neck. “You can, baby. You can. I can’t stop thinking about that night.” He nips my flesh. “ About you. ”

 I whimper again. 

 “I miss you so much, Y/N. Every fucking night for the past thirty days I’ve been fisting my cock while thinking about you. Thinking about your soft moans and how sweet you sound while saying my name.”

 “Suguru. . . please .”

 “Fucking that tight pussy to get rid of that spicy attitude you have that drives me insane.” He begins palming my clothed pussy in the middle of the parking lot and I’m too mind fucked to have any shame. 

 He continues. “Your husband isn’t taking care of you, angel, so let me. Use me for your pleasure.”

  Will you do that for me?

Thirty seconds didn’t even pass until I unlocked the door of my Escalade and climbed into the back seat to be fucked once again by someone who isn’t my husband. 

 Everything about Suguru is intoxicating.

 His lips that I love the feel of against mine. 

 His body that molds perfectly with mine. 

 And his hands that are so slender yet strong, holding me in place while I ride his cock, on the verge of cumming for the second time. He fills me. All eight-in-a-half inches stretch me the more I drop down his length. My pussy will probably never get used to Suguru, but I will never deny the pleasure she seeks. 

 Our skin slapping resonates in the air of my car along with our shared moans and my wetness responding to him. I wrap my arms around his neck to deepen our kiss, bouncing even harder on his cock. 

 “Fuck, angel. You’re doing such a good job riding my cock. I love it when you make a mess on me.” He says it like I’m all that he’s used to, causing my pussy to clench in response. 

 “Suguru, you’re so deep,” I cry. 

 “Hm, I know baby but don’t tell me you can’t handle it. You see how pretty you look when you’re confident? Taking every single last inch of me?” 

 I moan, but that wasn’t a good enough answer for him. So he asks again. 

 “Answer me, Y/N”—he breaks our kiss to press his fingers in my cheeks to pucker my lips—“Do you see how pretty you look when you’re confidently taking my cock?”

 “Yes, Suguru. Yes, I do.” I don’t care how pathetic I sound. When I’m being stuffed like this and this good, I’ll say anything to please him.

 “Tell me you can take it, princess,” he orders, softly.

 “I can take it, Suguru. I can take it.”

 He smirks, kissing my lips. “Hm, that’s my girl. Go ahead. Use me to make yourself cum. Okay?”

 I nod. He leans back with his arms spread across the head of my car seats to watch me. My hands took purchase on his broad chest while I continued to chase my release. Every bounce I made his tip kissed my g spot, having me moan and cry his name uncontrollably. 

 The intensity of his deep purple irises bores into me and I can’t look away. The way he looks at me. . . It’s doing indescribable things to me and my pussy. I flatten my feet on each of his sides and slowly jump up and down on his cock. I’m rewarded with a hiss and a quick kiss on my lips for being his good girl. 

 “I know many men would do anything to feel how good your pussy is. I don’t deserve this,” he rasps, massaging my bottom lip with his thumb. “Tell me I don’t deserve this pussy and that I should consider myself lucky, Y/N.”

 Riding his cock while hearing his praises makes me feel powerful. Like I’m all he wants to worship. 

 “Y-You— fuck, Suguru —You don’t deserve m-my pussy,” I stammered, bouncing harder on him. “Be glad that you’re fucking me.”

 Suguru abruptly thrust upwards, pulling a sharp cry from my throat. “Fuck, yes. Yes, I’m so glad you gave me this pussy again, baby,” he groans while holding my ass cheeks to spread. “Can I fuck you, angel? Please let me fuck you.” He asks me this but has already started pumping his cock inside of me.

 “Yes, Suguru. God, fuck me. I’m right there!”

 His balls swings against my ass the deeper he fucks into me. The tears that I had the last time we had sex returned, but this time they feel more intense because this fucking feels more intense. It’s like he has grown since the last time. His grips are more firm and his thrusts are more precise. I feel my juices and cream trickling down his cock, creating gushing noises that join our foreign moans. My car windows are up tight, but from anyone looking outside they would know what's going on by how the car rocks the harder he fucks me.

 I cuff his cheeks and rest my forehead against his, shaking and whimpering that I’m about to cum because I feel the bubble in my stomach that is less than a minute away from exploding with my release.

 How can I feel guilty about cheating on my husband while I’m being fucked like this—again. 

 “Best fucking pussy I ever had. I love how wet I make you, Y/N,” he breathes. “Cum for me, angel. Please , cum with me.”

 And it was like that. . . Those three words caused my orgasm to wash over him while we cum together.

 Suguru’s moans were harsh and hitched, slowing down his fervent thrusts while he finished emptying his release in the condom. Our lips met again to swallow how sweet and intoxicating our sounds of pleasure tastes. He nipped harshly on my tongue, and if I didn’t know any better, I was bleeding but I honestly don't care. It shows he’s possessive. 

 And I like that. 

 Having sex feels amazing, but there’s something about the after-high sex that does something to my body. I could tell Suguru feels the same way. 

 After we cleaned ourselves up, courtesy of the wipes that I keep in my glove department, Suguru and I sat in silence. How he was ogling me told me everything I needed to know. 

 “You want to do this again. Don’t you?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

 “I think we both do. You’re just denying it, and I don’t know why.”

 “Because I’m ma-”

 “Don’t tell me it’s because you’re married because, again, I do not care .” He enunciates every syllable of his last words to make them believable, which I find myself believing. 

 I look down at the pear-cut wedding ring on my finger that I used to cherish deeply, however, now I feel nothing but sadness when I look at it. Ten months have passed since my husband touched me. I don’t even remember the last time he said the words I love you to me. My marriage gives me security, but Suguru gives me. . . comfort . This is the second time we’ve had sex and I know my needs can be fulfilled by him. 

 Don’t do it, Y/N. Go work things out with your husband.

 I’ve tried.

 I’ve tried to for over a year. It just doesn’t feel the same anymore. Eventually, I’ll ask for a divorce, but for now—I think I’ll enjoy myself.

 “Okay. . .” 

 “Okay?” He repeats, questioning.

 “Just sex, Suguru. No romantic feelings. No dates. Nothing intimate. Just sex. Don’t think I’m going to leave my husband for you because I’m not. I’m making that clear now, and if you can’t agree to my terms, then I’m serious. . . You won’t see me again.”

 He smirks, leaning over to kiss me. “That fucking spicy attitude of yours is going to drive me insane, especially when I know how sweet you sound when you cum on my cock.”

 I swat his chest, playfully. “Suguru, I’m serious.”

 I may or may not know what I’m getting myself into, but I know I’m more than sure about telling my husband. Despite how fucked up my marriage is right now, we’ve never had lies, and that’s not something I’m planning on starting.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ Later that evening. . .

 The sounds of cutlery kissing plates and pouring wine into a glass are all I can hear while I have dinner with my husband. The silence is so loud, I’m convinced I can hear every piece of food that swallows down his throat. I’m surprised we’re even having dinner together. Usually, he grabs his plate and heads into his office. I guess he’s tired of eating alone with his thoughts. But why was he so eager for me to come home just to not utter one word to me?

 Not a kiss on the cheek.

 Not a hug.

 Not waiting in the living room for me.

 Was all he needed for his sweet trophy wife to come home to make dinner for him?

 My eyes pierce his head while I sip on my third glass of wine. I study the man I’m foolishly still madly in love with.

 Toji Zen'in.

 Memories of those strong arms that are decorated with ink, being wrapped around me at night, play in my mind. When there was a time my soul felt at peace when he looked at me with those jade-colored hues that resembled a rainforest. His midnight locks I tucked my fingers in every time he was in my depths making sweet love to me. Even his jasmine and citrus scent still does something to me. I remember how he makes me feel.

  Made me feel.

 Looking at him and having sex with Suguru made me realize I have a type. 

 Dark-haired assholes with tattoos that know how to please me.

 Just my luck.

 “Something’s wrong?” His deep voice breaks me from my thoughts.

 “No. Why do you ask?”

 “Because you’re just staring at me.”

 I scoffed. “Didn’t think there was an issue looking at my husband. That’s what you are to me, no?”

 He shifts in his chair. “No, there isn’t an issue, and yes I’m your husband, but you’re staring at me like you have something to say.”

 “Well, I don’t.”

 “Alright.”

 Here goes that unnecessary tension.

 I decided to keep the conversation going. “So why did you text me when I’m coming home?” 

 “Didn’t think there was an issue with wanting to know when my wife is coming home.” This motherfucker. 

 “Toji, stop fucking with me. Look at your message thread and tell me when’s the last time you asked me when I’m coming home, let alone ask me anything at all.”

 “Again, is there something you want to get off your chest, Y/N? What’s up with all this anim-”

 “I’m having an affair.” I blurted. 

 “. . . What?” He asks, but I know he heard me. Maybe he’s trying to make sure he heard correctly. So I’ll repeat myself.

 “An affair. I’m having one.”

 He flexes his fingers around the glass of water, and seeing how his veins protruded, I could tell this wasn’t the news he was expecting to hear. I mean, who would want to hear from their spouse that they’re cheating?”

 His jaw clenches. “With who? Where’d you meet him?”

 “Some guy I met at the bar.”

 “What’s his name?”

  I arch my brow. “Why does it matter?”

 “Y/N. Stop fucking with me. What’s his name?” He asks through gritted teeth.

 “Geto Suguru.”

 He nods, sipping on his water. “For how long?”

 “Not long. Met him last month. Left it at that, then I ran into him today .”

 “So you didn’t answer my text because you were too busy being some motherfucker’s cum bucket?”

 His harsh words hit me with full force causing me to jump. I feel my heart being squeezed and tears pricking my eyes. In no shape or form am I justifying my sins, but being referred to as a cum bucket was not what I expected. 

 “Fuck you, Toji,” I hissed. I grabbed my empty dish and excused myself to the kitchen to clean up. 

 “ Shit . . . Y/N, I’m sorry. I didn’t-”

 I turned around. “Yes, you did. Don’t tell you didn’t because if you didn’t, you wouldn’t have said it.”

 Toji gets up and strides toward me. “How else do you expect me to react when my wife of seven fucking years tells me she’s cheating on me? Tell me!”

 “You can be mad. You can look at me differently or I don’t know, at all. But a cum bucket Toji? Really?” My voice breaks while tears watered down my cheeks. “When was the last time you touched me? Look at me. Said you love me? When was the last time, huh?”

 He sighs. “Y/N, you know I love you. Don’t say that.”

 “Do I?”

 “Unbelievable,” he mutters to himself. “You fucking cheat on ME and now you’re trying to flip this on me?”

 “No one’s flipping shit, Toji! I’m telling you why I did it. I’m not justifying my infidelity. It may sound like I am, but I’m not,” I tell him. “I just don’t feel like your wife anymore. This ring says we’re married, but how I feel says otherwise.”

 He shakes his head. “And what the fuck do you mean by having ? You’re still going to see this motherfucker?”

 I looked away. 

 That should answer him. 

 “Y/N. . . I’m going to leave now. I’ll be back when I feel like it, and when I do, I hope you reconsider the answer you just gave me before acting on it.” 

 I scrunched my brows together. “Are you— Are you threatening me? ”

 “Oh, no. Not you, sweetheart. Definitely not you.” Those were the last words he said to me before he walked out the door, slamming it so hard, a few of our frames falls to the tiled floor. 

 I know Toji. I’m very aware of his past and his threats are more like promises. I can’t help but stand there and think I should reconsider this affair because I don’t need to be the reason why someone gets killed. 

previous chapter | next chapter

[i-cant-sing]

Okay HAI I'm back! And I have some theories. For Salauddin the painting thing i read the ask someone else sent and you expanding on it, and I think he wouldn't spent a long time just looking at you because if I am right, we almost always were wearing our niqaab around him (except the times it was out of our control). So I think he would look at your face at first then never look again out of sheer respect for you (and maybe that also made him feel that you were alive again in weird sense. idk how to explain it)

Also I will gladly say this again again and again. You are amazing, your will to write is amazing and you imagination is amazing. Allahuma Barik.

Also some theories for the characters

Idk why mehmed (i think thats his name) gives me salauddin-after-he-fell-for-his-sheikha vibes. very chill, very calm and understanding. I would marry him if I was given the choice.

I feel like Mustafa would be (if we were to marry him) the angry type because we have already gotten on bad footing and first impressions but considering that he was there during the Surah al kawther scene he would be impressed and maybe truly believe we were the there for admiring the potrait (no he wouldnt he isnt that dumb). But he would suck it up and marry us for the sake of being on his father's good side. (shown by him going to war and winning he most probably keeps doing these things s he can be crowned sultan without any problems. Also he gives Salauddin-before-he-fell-in-love vibes. Calculating and the questioning the reader

Also i am so happy I was learning about the ottoman empire in history class because this made it so much more fun reading.

Thank you for writing this so quickly, now I have something to think about before i sleep

Ahhhhh im so happy u enjoyed it<33333 i am honestly not that stoked about the ottomans atm, but i do have an OC in mind that is like... ✨🌌💫🌠💋 I WANNA EAT HIM UP HE'S SOO UGHHHHH- look he'd be probably be as close to the faceless man in my dreams <3333

i enjoyed reading ur theories, and you'll have to read part 9 to see if youre wright

[lavellenchanted]

okay I have a bit of a theory that was inspired by your Yuna Aerith parallel gifset, while I immediately thought of Yuna during that scene as well, I didn't really think about it beyond it being a reference until seeing your gifset again just now. A lot of people think there are parallels between ff7/ffx already and that maybe the games are connected in some loose way. And thinking about Yuna's story... how the game revolves around her intending to make this big sacrifice in order to save everyone until we find another way and are able to put an end to things for good without her needing to die (a better ending than her sacrificing herself and restarting the cycle). Not to mention other parallels between her and Aerith in general. And a lot of people are unsure if the ending of og FF7 is actually a "good" ending. And I am now wondering if Aerith's lifestream dance scene was more than just a fun reference and it was actually more of an intentional nod to her and Yuna's similar stories and maybe a hint to the fact that she doesn't need to die for us to win in the end (ofc Aerith already meeting her fate in rebirth has happened, but with the other worlds etc we know things can potentially be altered somehow in game 3 and that we may have saved a version of Aerith already). Perhaps this time we can get an even better outcome. Defying fate/destiny is very relevant to Yuna's story and is a heavy theme in this re-trilogy which I would like to see have a purpose beyond faking us out. I feel the direct comparison between her and Aerith does potentially feel more intentional along that line of thinking

apologies that got quite lengthy and disjointed but hopefully made some sense hah

That's a really good catch! I think as well it's interesting to note that as well as Yuna not having to sacrifice herself, they also brought back Tidus at the end FFX-2 - albeit only in the hidden ending that you have to 100% complete the game to get. So clearly SE aren't against bringing back characters that appear to be gone for good.

I definitely think that Aerith is going to live at the end of Part 3 - the lifestream dance is obviously a nod to Yuna, but in terms of FF7's narrative I think it was also deliberately meant to show is that Aerith can and is learning to control the lifestream while she's alive, so she doesn't need to die to be able to manipulate the lifestream to help defeat Meteor.

I'm absolutely convinced we'll get a payoff to the idea of defying fate, just because otherwise it would be really bad writing. They very carefully set it up in Remake with Aerith and Nanaki having full knowledge of the future, and Cloud having fractured visions of it and have then built on it further in Remake; both through Marlene having gained that knowledge from Aerith, and using the interludes with Zack to establish a) that characters we expected to die could survive and b) the rainbow motif to show when fate's been changed, a motif that then appears when Cloud blocks Sephiroth's sword and in both scenes when he's holding Aerith and she wakes up. To suddenly undo that in Part 3 and return to the status quo of the OG would be a complete narrative letdown and anti-climax after everything they've teased, and I think the devs are better than that.

The OG ending is a complicated one and was always intended to be bittersweet, but it's telling that in an interview in the Rebirth Ultimania, Kitase said that he hopes all the characters find happiness at the end of Retrilogy, implying that he doesn't consider that they did at the end of the OG. And if you want everyone to have a happy ending . . . well, the characters that had the most obviously unhappy ending of all of them were Aerith, who died, and Cloud, who was broken by her death.

Not to mention that Nomura said in the same interview that Kitase asked for "a very major something" that wasn't in the OG for Part 3, and I really don't see what else that would be except a ending in which Aerith, and possibly Zack, both get to live and Cloud and Aerith are reunited.

[coffeemakerwriter]

GhostSoap playlist

TW’s: suicide, SA, death, depression, grief, abuse mentions, heavy angst with little to no fluff, may be ooc!! Heavy on soaps death!! Please proceed with caution and let me know if I miss any tags!

A/N: I prefer light and fluffy stuff for ghost and soap but :)) I thought this would be fun! I don’t really have any angsty headcanons for them but I kinda just wrote out my thoughts for this :) this is probs super out of character but that’s okay!

Wc: 1k woords!

Reckless driving by Lizzy mcalpaine and Ben Kessler:

I don’t exactly know why this fits, but it makes sense to me in a way, I think in the way that ghost and soap are both reckless, but ghost is reckless in the way he doesn’t care if he died, but I think in a way, he doesn’t want to take soap with him, and I think that’s frustrate soap, that ghost is so willing to risk his life for him that he’d go as far as to kill himself if it was needed. As long as it keeps soap alive.

The Gold - Phobe Bridgers version:

I think of this in the way after the soap's death ghost is different, ‘I don’t think I love you anymore, that gold mine changed you’? That feels like after Soap's death ghost someone says how different he is, closed off, ‘I don’t wanna be me anymore’ could be ghost agonizing on how he feels because of ghosts death and feels guilty about how he’s been acting since and fears it’s damaging his remaining relationships.

Cherry wine - live by Hozier:

Soap to ghost is a spitfire, loud and wild, hard to contain, harsh barks of laughter and his eyes light up at an ability to fight, but he loves when he’s calm too. “Her fight and fury is fiery Oh but she loves Like sleep to the freezing

Sweet and right and merciful I'm all but washed In the tide of her breathing” can be how soft soap is with ghost, how sweet he can be regardless of his bright and fiery personality. He would love him regardless if he was soft or harsh.

Born to die by Lana del rey:

Regardless of whatever timeline you look at, both of them are born to die, never actually destined to be together forever. Either they both die or one is ripped away. Neither get a happy ending.

Johnny boy by Twenty One pilots:

‘Get up Johnny boy’ can be ghost begging soap to get up, getting more and more distraught as he repeats it, the sickening realization that his pride and joy isn’t getting up, because his pride and joy is dead. ‘I will carry all your names, and I will carry all your shame’ can be ghost vowing in some way that even after his death he will make sure he means something, that his death didn’t go in vain and even with his faults and mistakes he will make sure Johnny will be carried on.

Army dreamers by Kate bush:

The entire song can be played on the fact that soap's body is being brought home, that his coffin is being home to his mother and sisters, how they wish he had chosen something else to do instead of being a soldier, an army dreamer. How he died so young, and how he’ll never make it past his 20’s. But even then, he’ll always be his mammy’s hero.

Not strong enough by boygenius:

I think this kinda deals with more so, ghosts grief with soaps death, how he feels empty and doesn’t know why he is the way he is after he dies. ‘Do you see us getting scraped off the pavement?’ Could be in allusion to the fact he thought about killing himself after soap's death, that in some way he felt like it was his fault soap died. And maybe the emptiness he feels going home to shared space, knowing that soap won’t be there anymore, knowing that he’s alone now. Knowing that he’s never coming home.

I bet on losing dogs by mitski

Ghost holding soaps body, cradling his head in his lap, his baby, he’s watching him die, holding his cold, lifeless body. He knew he wasn’t gonna live, how do you survive something like that? That’s a bet you can’t win. He knew he wouldn’t survive, so all he can do is hold him in his last moments and offer comfort in his last moments. Because either way he’s watching him die.

Savior complex by Phobe bridgers:

I think soap wants to help ghost get better, offer him a place of comfort, save him, but ghost isn’t all that open about things. Not his childhood, not roba, and sure as hell not his family. But soap wants to be there for him, show me yours show you mine? He’s willing to be vulnerable with him if only he’d be vulnerable too, soap thinks he will be, with time at least.

Sarah by Alex g:

I don’t really know how to explain this one either, just the fact I feel like ghost would feel like he’s in a dream, constantly seeing Johnny, seeing his face, hearing his voice, running to him, only for him to be woken up just before he can reach him. I feel like ghost would wait for him like a dog, despite knowing he’s gone, he’s not coming back, he still waits. Or atleast waits till he can join him.

All for us by labyrinth:

I feel like Johnny and ghost would do anything for eachother, they love each other so much that they would die for the other. They would risk their careers for each other if it came down to it. Genuinely I think they’d kill for the other if they had to, without a thought.

Feel better by Penelope Scott:

I think ghost found comfort in his unwellness after soap's death, a routine maybe, I think ghost agonized over it not only becaUse of just how close they were in general but because someone had actually loved him, loved him despite his flaws, his issues, despite everything they loved him. I think in a way, he thinks he’s incapable of being loved. But soap disproved that, and the fact that he loved him despite everything made it hurt even more.

Funeral by Phobe bridgers:

Imagine ghost talking at soap's funeral, going to the funeral of someone he cared so deeply about that he didn’t think would die so soon. Imagine him having to talk to his mother, comfort her and tell her how much her son meant to him. And how sometimes he wakes up from nightmares of johnny's death, only weeks after it happened, and how he just has this deep feeling of sadness and emptiness and he can’t help but wonder if it’ll always be like this.

I love you so by the Walter’s:

Imagine ghost seeing soap in a dream, begging soap to stay only for him to tell him he needs to let go, but he’s not ready to yet. He doesn’t want to let him go, he doesn’t want to forget him. He loves him. Why does he want him to forget? He doesn’t want to forget his smile, or the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs. He doesn’t want to forget any of it.

Freaks by Surf Curse:

I feel like ghost dreams about soap a lot after his death. And everytime he dreams of him he hopes he doesn’t wake up, either because he wants to stay with him just a little longer or because he hopes somehow he’ll die in his sleep, so he can finally be at peace.

We’ll never have sex by leith ross:

I feel like ghost has a fear of sexual intimacy or at least some anxiety around it. And he’s afraid that soap will want to initiate that sort of stuff with him, and he’s worried that soap will leave him when he finds out that he doesn’t like sex all that much, or that can make him uncomfortable at times. He's in therapy for sure, but that doesn’t make it completely go away. But I think Johnny would be understanding, willing to listen to him when he explains how sometimes it makes him uncomfortable. I don’t think Johnny would do anything to make ghost uncomfortable on purpose. I do think he’d make sure ghost is comfortable with anything sexual.

Mr. Loverman by Ricky Montgomery:

I think this is just mainly ghost missing Johnny, maybe drinking too much one night, agonizing on how much he misses him, what he could’ve done differently, and if he got there sooner, could he have saved him? Would he be sitting here beside him instead of in an urn?

Like real people do by Hozier:

I think this is just them learning to love, being soft with each other, about how they met, I don’t think soap would ask very many questions about ghosts' childhood, I think he’d figure out pretty early on that it wasn’t a good one. I think he’d let him speak about it when he was ready, when he felt safe to do so. I think in a way he’d feel a sad bitterness when he sees ghost exhibit behaviors he learned from his childhood, like walking quietly, doing things to please him when he got upset, things to make him happy. I think that’s when Johnny would connect the dots, that he didn’t have a good childhood. I think regardless of that though, Johnny would treat him with the care he deserves, and I think ghost would do the same too.

Nothings new by Rio Romeo:

I think ghost would settle in this emptiness that he felt like he could never get out of, this never ending feeling that nothing will ever change, that he will always feel empty now that soap is dead.

Sunlight by Hozier:

I think soap and ghost do make eachother happy, that they work well together as a couple, that they have boundaries that are good and they communicate well. Soap his ghosts sunlight and he’d die on that hill. Soap means everything to ghost and soap is the same way with him. I feel like they make eachother better as people and learn to better themselves for the other. Because they WANT to make their relationship work.

J’s lullaby (darlin’ I’d wait for you) by Delaney Bailey:

I think in a way, ghost will always wait for soap to come back, he’s always gonna hope for him to come through their front door after a deployment, and curl himself into his side and rest their for the rest of the night. Logically he knows that won’t happen, but he’d give anything for it to. Because he’d do anything for his Johnny.