#I've been thinking about this au for a while now but my problem is I can't think of who michael should be lol
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Hello my friends!
As you may know, 2024 has been a rough mental health year for me. Depression and anxiety are an ongoing struggle. And unfortunately, that's bled into my life here.
I've realized recently that I put a lot of pressure on myself in how I interact with people. Everywhere, but here too. I really love it here, and I love all of you! I want to stay here as long as possible!! But that means I'm going to have to change some things in order to make that sustainable. Because right now, wanting to be able to do everything and not being able to has kind of made me just freeze and not be able to do anything. And then I feel awful. This is absolutely a me problem. You're all so great and what I'm going to outline below are probably obvious boundaries to all of you. But I'm saying it in writing to hopefully alleviate a little of the guilt I will inevitably feel when I start enacting them.
First and foremost, it's ok if I take breaks from writing every once in a while. If I don't produce anything new in a month, I need to trust that I won't lose all of my friends and followers. Because tumblr isn't a job and I need to stop treating it like it is. And not every idea needs to be expanded on, not every one-shot needs to become an au. Some ideas might just live in a series of little riffs or answers to asks and that's ok! That's great! It's ok to keep things short, sweet, and fun when that's what I need.
I'm also going to start forgiving myself when I can't read and comment on every single incredible work you all post. This refers to time limits, obviously, but content too. There are times, for example, when reading smut is just not what I want to do. And that's ok! I know that you know that, but I don't always know that. So I'm going to start giving myself a lot more grace when I get behind in my reading or skip something someone I love has written because the content just isn't for me. So if you start seeing me in your notes a little bit less, that's why. I still love you.
I think I'm going to clear out my ask box and start fresh. I'm sorry. I love you and I'm so happy whenever you want to interact with me. But trying to be perfect in how I answer these means that when I don't answer them right away, they just build up and start haunting me and that makes answering the new ones even harder, because I feel like I need to answer the old ones first. There are a couple that I'll probably try to get out before I purge, but not in a full drabble or what I feel like I should be doing. I need to understand that I can do quick, off the cuff, brief answers to these things. Nothing here needs to be perfect.
Ok, I think those are the major things right now. I hope this wasn't too weird and/or embarrassing. I just wanted to share where my head is at. I'll say it again and I'll keep saying it: I love you. You're great. I'm so so lucky to have made the friends here that I have. I appreciate each of you so much. And if, in the future, you see me getting super stressed out about what is supposed to be a fun hobby and community, please point me back here and make me read this again. 💜💜💜💜💜
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death note the good place AU where Light is welcomed for all the "good" his work as Kira did for the world. he's eating it up, until they go outside and Light sees L sadly eating some frozen yogurt. Light's immediately like, "yeah, this definitely isn't the good place."
#death note#light yagami#l lawliet#death note au#elle is talking again#L also wouldn't buy the idea that he deserves to be in the good place#they'd be like 'you're here for all the lives you saved as a detective you're a hero L Lawliet'#and L would be like LMAOOOO#like girl the war crimes!!!!#I wanna draw this actually#I've been thinking about this au for a while now but my problem is I can't think of who michael should be lol#I was thinking of using ryuk's old human design idk lmao#or just keep it as ted danson that'd be funny too
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symptoms and causes | ch. 11
x pairing professor!gojo x med student f!reader (medical au)
x summary he's arrogant, self-centered, and he's your professor. renowned for his brilliance in neurosurgery and infamous for his allure. too bad you have to work with him on this research team. now you're stuck with dr. satoru gojo, delving into the complexities of both the brain and the heart—and of how far you'd go for a love that could destroy not only him but you as well.
x wc 13.5 k (enjoy your meal lol)
x warnings [18+] this story contains substance abuse/addiction, overdosing, (rough) smut, mature themes, self-destructive and abusive behavior, manipulation, (heavy) angst, mentions of death / illness / blood, graphic medical procedures. reader discretion is advised.
x author's note hey loves!! thank you so much for your patience, i know it's been a while. buckle up, because we're taking another trip inside satoru's mind, so yeahhh. it's gonna be wild, oh and we're continuing right were we left off in the last chapter. this chapter is again in satoru's pov!! i've also updated the trigger warnings, so please take a look before reading (might be spoiling tho). and lastly, credit to the fanart in the cover, if you know the artist, pls let me know!! can't wait to hear what you all think & thanks for sticking with me!! ♡
series masterlist + playlist + ao3 + wattpad
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They say before you can love someone else, you have to love yourself first.
And there lies the damn problem.
I don't know how.
Never have.
Why am I thinking this now?
I knew this was right.
Right for her.
But then why does my heart feel like it's being ripped out by the fucking roots?
Suguru will take care of her. He always does. That's the only thing that keeps me from screaming, keeps me from chasing after her.
I trust him, damn it, but it shouldn't be him.
It should be me holding her. Me, who knows how she likes to be held when the panic claws its way up. Me, holding her until the world feels less sharp, less cruel.
Me, who knows that she doesn't want to talk about it. Me, who knows to give her space. She needs space. My strong girl needs space first.
I hope he gives her space.
But he wouldn't know any of this. He couldn't comfort her in the ways I instinctively knew how.
Me, who knows how to soothe the invisible wounds, the ones even she denies exist. Me, who knows the soft words she needs to hear after it passes.
It shouldn't be him.
Sorry.
It shouldn't have been him.
Past tense.
It all might be past tense now.
And the thought is more than I could bear.
Shattered.
Was that the word?
Was there even a word for what I felt in that moment?
How could I ever convey this suffocating agony that's tearing me apart with mere words?
Words are meaningless in the end.
Meaningless when they couldn't be spoken to her, couldn't reach her, couldn't make her understand, couldn't heal the wound I'd carved into her heart.
So, yeah, maybe shattered is the right word.
The wrong word.
The sterile air was acid in my lungs. Each ragged breath felt like sandpaper against my throat. I held my breath, a desperate plea for the world to stop spinning, for the clock to rewind, for a chance to undo everything.
But time doesn't care.
It marched on, relentless, while I stayed trapped in this hell, drowning in the mess I made.
My lungs burned. My vision blurred. I waited until she disappeared. The world seemed to tilt sideways, losing all color and shape, leaving only the sharp, agonizing realization that I'd made her walk away.
I didn't want to breathe anymore.
Not in a world where every breath ached without her.
"Dr. Gojo?" A voice, distant, muffled.
Irrelevant.
My gaze flickered to Sukuna. He watched, a predator savoring the kill.
His twisted smile fueled rage within me. But there would be no fighting this. No grand defense. Not when her life was the bargaining chip.
So, I lied.
Each word a nail in the coffin of the connection I craved more than life itself.
Each word a drop of poison forced down my throat. A self-inflicted wound, a desperate mutilation of the only thing that had ever felt real.
Her eyes, those beautiful eyes I loved so fiercely, wide with confusion and horror. The strangled gasp, the way her body went limp in Geto's arms — a haunting image that would forever be etched on my heart.
Muscles screamed, a silent protest against my own pathetic stillness. But I remained frozen.
This was my punishment.
I had to watch her leave, had to sear the pain into my very being, an endless penance for the choices I'd made.
The door clicked shut behind them.
That simple sound, final, absolute.
My lungs filled with air, a betrayal. Oxygen I didn't deserve, didn't want.
My own body, this treacherous thing kept going, kept me alive against my will, kept me tethered to this cruel reality.
The room swam back into focus, the judges' accusing faces nothing but a blurry backdrop. The sounds of their inquest washed over me like meaningless noise.
"Dr. Gojo? Can we continue?"
I nodded.
They pressed on. More questions about the research, her involvement, their accusations of favoritism.
How stupid.
Of course, I favored her.
How could I not?
She is everything.
Oh, sorry. Forgot. Past tense.
She was everything.
Did I regret it?
Did I wish I could go back and treat her with the same damn indifference I afforded everyone else?
Yeah, maybe.
A familiar craving stirred my senses, the desperate need for the numbing escape that would mean failing her even more. My fingers clawed at my forearm, trying to replace the hollowness with physical pain. It wasn't enough.
My responses were rote, mechanical.
Yeah, I favored her.
Yeah, I let her into the OR because of it.
Yeah, and she outshone every damn surgeon twice her age.
No, she didn't know I'd set it up.
No, she never asked for special treatment. She just worked until her eyes were bloodshot, pushing harder than anyone else.
And hell no, she didn't do a single thing wrong.
Except maybe — maybe loving me.
After what felt like an eternity, the judges seemed satisfied, or perhaps just exhausted by my robotic replies.
They painted me the arrogant professor with a weakness for a young student, who abused his power, who played favorites.
Whatever they wanted to believe, fine.
Didn't even have the energy to care anymore.
Let them drag my name through the mud, tarnish the reputation I'd worked so hard to build.
Because the title, the position, the facade of success meant nothing when all I wanted was to rewind time, to undo the damage I'd done to the one person who truly mattered.
I didn't feel anymore.
I was done.
─── ·✧· ───
I burst out of the courtroom.
I needed escape, not just from this sterile prison of a room, but from my own traitorous flesh.
That itch.
It was a wildfire beneath my skin, a thousand insects gnawing their way to the surface. My fingers twitched, claws desperate to tear, to bleed out the poison of this relentless craving.
My legs moved without conscious thought, pushing me towards my office. Somewhere. Anywhere I would be able to breathe again. The guilt was a serrated blade twisting in my gut, each movement slicing me open anew.
Her terror-stricken eyes seared into my very soul.
The walls of my office closed in, the familiar space suddenly too small, too suffocating.
My fist slammed into the desk. Papers scattered to the floor, a meaningless sea of white against the dark wood.
They didn't matter. None of it mattered.
A half-finished coffee mug followed. Porcelain shattered. Dark liquid splashed against the wall.
My blood roared in my ears.
Across the room, my framed diploma. I ripped it off the wall. Glass smashed. Sharp edges bit into my palm, drawing blood. But it wasn't enough. I hurled the frame against the wall.
Blood, hot and slick, coated my hands, the pain nothing.
In the shattered frame, I caught a glimpse of myself — wild eyes in a sweat-slicked face, a man on the verge of collapse.
It was a stranger.
I was across the room before I even registered the decision.
The drawer.
My fingers ripped it open.
There, like a coiled viper, the amber vial gleamed, a venomous promise of oblivion.
Don't —
Don't come at me now.
Did you really think I wouldn't keep a backup?
My hand reached, then hesitated.
The world lurched to a sharp halt as a knock pierced the chaos. My breath hitched, the vial a burning brand in my bloodied hand.
The door creaked open.
And there he was. Sukuna.
He leaned against the doorframe, that sickening smirk plastered on his face. It was like a lit fuse to a powder keg. The rage that had been gnawing at my insides, tearing me apart, finally found its target.
Before a single rational thought could form, I was on him. Fist to jaw, heard the crack, felt it in my knuckles. He stumbled back, the smirk finally wiping off his face.
I pinned him against the door. Forearm across his throat, crushing his windpipe. His eyes widened, but even then, there was that damn flicker of amusement.
"Well, well," he choked out, "this is a nice welcome back."
"Funny to you?"
He coughed, a harsh laugh scraping out of him. "C'mon, Satoru, relax. I did you a favor," he sputtered. "Your precious little student, she's better off now. You know I'm right."
Every muscle in my body tensed.
He was right.
In his twisted way, he was.
And that's what made it all so much worse.
My grip on his throat tightened. But there was nothing, no satisfactio, no release in the violence.
Sukuna saw it, the hesitation. His mouth twisted into a smirk again. "See, you get it. Sweet thing doesn't belong in this mess, does she? It's not for her, Satoru. It's for us."
His words scraped like nails on a chalkboard.
Yes, she was safer now, untouched by the rot that festered within me. Some desperate, logical part of me clung to that. But how could I hold on to that when my heart was screaming for her closeness?
"Or maybe," Sukuna drawled, pushing the knife deeper, "maybe you wanted to see where this goes. Stain her a bit, make her just a little bit more like you."
My breath hitched. For a split second, the floor vanished beneath me.
"Hit a nerve, did I?"
"Shut the hell up!" I couldn't face it, couldn't face the ugly truth as it would tear me apart. "You twist everything. Play with lives just for your own sick amusement."
This was his game.
Sukuna thrived on chaos, on exploiting pain.
He knew my guilt, my fear for her, and wielded it like a scalpel, laying bare the raw nerve of my fragile sanity.
"Perhaps. But ain't I right? You needed to end it, but you lack the guts for it. Waited a bit longer, it'd be a total disaster."
I hesitated, then my grip on him slackened. I stepped back.
"You know I'm right," Sukuna continued. "You know how this would have ended. Suspension. Scandal. She'll be doomed forever for getting involved with her professor for favors. You wouldn't destroy her like that, would you? You're not that cruel."
"I'm not so sure." I ran a hand through my hair. It had taken everything in me to push her away.
But I can't deny that an ugly part of me wanted to keep her close. Drag her down with me.
See her drown.
"Damn, you hit hard," he said, rubbing his jaw. "Go beat up some students again, not me."
"Stop giving me reasons to punch you." Exhausted, I slumped into my desk chair, burying my face in my hands. My head pounded, the infuriating itch worsening with each damn moment. "Was this your plan all along?"
"What?" he scoffed.
I lifted a single eyebrow at him.
"You think that low of me? Honestly, Toru, a bit of credit, please. It was your pathetic indecision that made this entertaining. You basically gift-wrapped this mess and handed it to me."
"Besides," he continued, "let's be honest, you were holding her back. Now maybe she'll have a chance to become someone who might surpass you one day. You wouldn't deny her that, would you? No thanks needed."
He was right, and I hated that more than anything.
Sukuna sank into the chair across from me, a picture of smug satisfaction despite the visible bruise. "Damn, that punch still stings."
I opened my desk drawer and wordlessly tossed him the bottle of opioids. His eyes widened in surprise, before he gave the bottle a knowing shake. "Still on the hydromorphone?"
I didn't answer. The sound alone threatened to shatter what fragile control I had left. The itch was unbearable, each nerve ending screaming for relief.
Sukuna observed me, a predator watching its prey struggle. "Withdrawal never suited you," he said, popping a pill. "You always get so—" he paused, savoring the word, "—tense."
"Yeah, real supportive of you."
"Actually, I'm being incredibly supportive. I'm leaving for a little research trip overseas—four months. Ethics committee can't meet without me, so—" He leaned back in his chair, his grin widening. "Gives you time to get your shit together. Isn't that nice of me?"
"Shut the hell up."
"C'mon, I put in a good word for you too. No suspension for now. You can keep teaching, just no surgeries. Yaga really hates my guts, doesn't he? But hey, at least you're not totally screwed."
"You expect a thank you?"
"Relax, Toru, the show's over," he said. "Trust me, they don't want a scandal, let alone lose their star surgeon. When I get back, a slap on the wrist, maybe a semester's suspension, then you're back to the boring old grind."
A bitter laugh escaped me. "Last I checked, you were the one pushing for a scandal."
He rolled his eyes. "Someone had to do it. Knew you'd drag this out forever, playing the tragic hero. Needed a villain to get things moving." He gave a mocking bow. "At your service, my friend."
"Also," he continued, leaning forward in his chair, "the focus is off you now. The committee's sniffing around those implant engineers. Funny, isn't it?"
Sukuna paused, savoring the moment. "Honestly, never thought there was anything wrong with your surgeries. You wouldn't make that kind of mistake. Tech malfunction more likely."
Of course.
The bastard never doubted the damn research. It had all been a game to him — my career, my sanity, her — just pieces on his chessboard.
It should've made me furious, lash out, pound his face in again — but all I felt was a bone-deep exhaustion, a weariness that seeped into my very soul. I was too tired, too hollowed-out to do anything but swallow the bitter truth.
"That supposed to make me feel better?"
"A little," he said, tossing the opioid bottle back. "This, though? That'll do the trick even better."
I caught it, my fingers clenching around the plastic.
He rose, stretching with a theatrical sigh. "Well, time to go. Remember, you owe me big time. You should take one," he gestured towards the pills, "you look like shit."
My grip on the bottle tightened. I looked up at him. "When all of this is done, I never want to see your damn face again."
He laughed. "We both know that's a lie. You and me? We need each other."
"The only thing you need is some damn therapy."
"Ah, Toru," he dismissed me with a smirk, "you'll come crawling back soon enough. We both know how this works."
With that, he was gone. I was left alone in the echoing silence, the pill bottle a burning weight in my hand. The world seemed to sway around me, my eyelids growing heavy.
The will to fight simply wasn't there anymore.
─── ·✧· ───
Cruel.
Cruel how one little pill can undo everything.
Cruel how one little pill can silence everything.
Cruel how one damn pill can soften the world, make it — bearable, almost.
Unfair.
It's truly unfair.
The screaming under my skin, that relentless itch — it's still there, but it had dulled to a faint hum, pushed back by the familiar numbness.
Finally.
Oh, finally some fucking silence.
I let out a shaky breath. It wasn't peace, not really. I knew that all too well. Borrowed time, each second ticking closer to the inevitable crash, the return of that relentless screaming in my head.
But for now, it'll have to be enough.
I collapsed on the couch, smoke curling lazily before my eyes.
I knew I shouldn't mix opioids with cannabis. That's something they teach you within the first year of university. What I used to teach students within the first year of university.
What a hypocrite I am really.
Another drag — harsh, burning down my throat.
The urge to close my eyes, to sink into oblivion, was almost overwhelming. But sleep wouldn't bring respite. Only nightmares. I knew that only too well.
So, I lay there, staring up at the ceiling.
It really came down to me failing again, huh?
What was it now?
Attempt number five?
Six?
I started losing count.
Maybe this was my fate.
A broken record, stuck on the same damn track.
Deep down, under the chemical haze, guilt gnawed at me. It was a dull ache now, no longer the searing pain of earlier, but a constant, insidious reminder.
She were out there, her life forever marked by my choices, while I was — here. Hiding in a haze of pills and smoke.
God, I hoped Suguru was looking after her. Making sure she ate, making sure she was safe — that she didn't hate me too much.
I brought the joint to my lips again, the smoke curling up towards the ceiling. It left an acrid taste in my mouth.
I watched my hand for a second.
Bloodied earlier, the wounds had scabbed over, the blood dried. It was perfectly still now, the trembling smoothed out by the chemicals in my blood.
I clenched it into a fist, then unclenched, watching the movement like it belonged to someone else.
Traitor.
This body was a traitor — betrayed myself, betrayed her, betrayed everything I held dear.
Weak.
Broken.
A pathetic mess.
Was that it?
Living as a slave to these chemicals to patch up my crumbling sanity one day at a time?
Chained to pills, each dawn a ticking clock until the next dose, until I could silence the screaming for a few damn hours?
My eyes locked onto the half-empty vial on the table.
Took too many, didn't I?
I knew that, even through the haze. But a cold certainty twisted in my gut. There'd be more. Always more. Until there was nothing left.
Before I could think, I threw another down my throat. Bad idea, probably, after a few clean days.
Suddenly, the haze warped, twisting into nausea. Bile rose in my throat.
I lurched to my feet, the world tilting precariously with each step. Surfaces rippled, the bathroom light stabbing into my skull.
I barely made it. My stomach heaved. Each retch wracked my body, leaving me gasping, weak.
Too many.
Way too many.
How the hell did I forget? Forget my body's limits? Somehow, I felt like some reckless student again, stumbling through experiments, blind to the consequences.
Stupid. So damn stupid.
Darkness swam at the edges of my vision. Another wave of nausea, and I was back, hunched over the toilet.
I hauled myself up, hands shaking, clinging to the sink. In the mirror, a stranger stared back. Eyes bloodshot, a sheen of sweat coating his skin.
This wasn't me anymore.
I splashed cold water on my face, trying to wash away the acid burn. Didn't help. Drops of water ran down my face, felt like they were melting the damn skin off.
My knees buckled. I slid down the wall, my head heavy against the tile wall.
The bathroom light, needles in my brain moments ago, seemed impossibly distant now. Each breath was a ragged gasp, each pulse a dull throb in my temples.
I waited for it to pass, the nausea, the haze. But as minutes crawled by, a new, searing pain gnawed at me.
My fingers trembled against my abdomen, pressing into the tender spot. Liver, of course.
Wrecked it, just like the rest of me. I'd known the risks, had ignored the warnings, and now my body was demanding payment.
How pathetic.
Darkness gnawed at the edges of my vision, pushing back against the stubborn spots of light. My head felt heavy, detached from my body. Arms and legs useless.
Each breath a battle I wasn't sure I'd win.
Time warped. Stretching, then snapping, leaving me floating in nausea and pain. Then I heard something — muffled, distant. Footsteps, getting closer.
My eyes struggled to make sense of the shifting shadows.
Then, a voice. Soft, achingly familiar. I couldn't make out the words, but the warmth of it—
I knew that voice — would always recognize it.
Cold water hit my skin. Hands, gentle, but firm, on my face. I strained to focus, to see her, to soak in the sight I needed, yet feared more than anything.
Oh, how desperately I needed to see her. Needed her to be real.
But my eyes betrayed me.
She must be so beautiful. She always was.
Then, a touch on my outstretched leg, a flash of metal — was that a scalpel?
Agony ripped through me, shattering the haze. I jerked back, my scream ragged against the tiles. My head slammed back with sickening force.
Before I knew it, a needle pierced my skin.
The room spun as whatever she'd injected battled the comfortable blur of the pills. Nausea churned in my stomach, the numbness receding with terrifying speed.
Groaning, I shifted on the floor.
My vision sharpened, my senses returning with brutal clarity.
The first thing I noticed was the metallic glint of the discarded syringe beside my leg.
Then the cut, a ragged gash through the fabric of my dress pants where she'd stabbed the needle in — the unnecessarily deep and brutal cut — but in the chaos, I let it slide. Didn't even register the pain as I watched the blood drain from the cut.
I reached for the syringe and read the label.
Adrenaline.
Smart girl.
But as I turned it over, a frown creased my brow. Two fucking milliliters? Was she trying to give me a damn heart attack?
I lifted my head, the question burning on my tongue. But the words died unspoken as my gaze locked on hers.
She stood there, just a few feet away, her breath ragged, her eyes — those pretty eyes.
Terror.
There was raw, unadulterated terror etched in her eyes. But I was right. She looked as beautiful as ever. Even with those terror-stricken eyes she was breathtaking.
She stumbled back, slumping against the wall opposite of me with a choked gasp, pulling her knees up. I didn't move, couldn't move, my gaze locked with hers.
The terror faded slowly, replaced by a weariness that was far worse.
For a fleeting moment, I saw a flicker of that familiar defiance, the spark I both loved and feared. But even that felt strangely muted now, as if even the energy to fight had been drained out of her.
She simply watched me. In silence, in that devastating silence.
How I hated her silence.
Because her silence was far worse than anything she could have screamed, any insult she could have hurled my way. Her stillness, her silence, was the most terrifying weapon she'd ever wielded against me.
And for the first time in a very long time, I was truly afraid.
Time stretched, then I choked out, "You're angry."
Her answer was blunt, devoid of emotion. "Oh really? What makes you think that?"
I glanced down. Blood still seeped from the gash in my leg. With a trembling hand, I fumbled for a towel and pressed it against the wound. "Your cut is kinda deep. Was that on purpose?"
She didn't say anything.
It probably was on purpose.
My gaze fell on the syringe. "Where'd you get that?"
"What happened to your hand?"
"I asked first."
"Don't try to play games now, Satoru. You're walking on thin fucking ice," she snapped.
"Shattered some glass," I said after a pause ", and punched Sukuna."
"Stole it from the hospital."
"What?"
"You think I'd date an addict and not have adrenaline on hand?"
My lips twitched into a weary smile. Oh my beautiful, brilliant girl, always prepared.
"But you know, two milliliters is a bit much." I moved my leg slightly to check if she had cut any tendons, which would complicate the healing a bit. "Or are you trying to kill me?"
Her gaze pierced me, colder than any scalpel. "Looks like you're doing a fine job of that yourself."
My smile faded.
Silence.
Oh, that cruel silence again.
She didn't say anything. Maybe I should be thankful for that, because if she said anything now, I'd probably crumble completely — if I haven't already.
Ironic, wasn't it?
How much power this woman had over me.
Yet it was me who destroyed her.
She dropped her head, ran a shaking hand through her hair, then looked at me again. "How much did you take?"
Huh?
Why would she ask that?
Didn't she see that it's over?
That I'm too far gone?
It was unbearable.
It was unbearable, how she could still look at me and see someone worth saving. It was unbearable, knowing she believed in me even when I didn't.
Almost pissed me off, how stubbornly she clung to that stupid hope. Because seeing that hope in her eyes — it made me hate myself even more.
I wouldn't change, couldn't. Not for her, not for anyone.
"Doesn't matter. It's over."
"Satoru, please," she choked out, pain raw in her voice, the pain I caused, "cut the crap and tell me. Now."
"It doesn't matter," I repeated, my voice cold. I couldn't bear the flicker of hope, couldn't bear to fail her yet again.
Then, the first tear rolled down her cheek and my heart shattered, the fragments piercing me from within.
I'd never wanted to be the reason those beautiful eyes filled with pain, the reason her sweet lips trembled. Every fiber of my being wanted to pull her close, erase the hurt I'd caused.
I would have given anything, sacrificed anything, if only I could make it stop.
But I couldn't.
Because I was the problem. I was the poison.
She buried her face in her hands. "I'm tired, Satoru."
"I know."
"I'm so fucking tired," she whispered through tears.
"I know, love."
My eyes burned as I watched her fragile body shudder. Each sob of her driving a stake deeper into my already bleeding heart. I bit my lip until I tasted blood.
I hated myself, hated myself, hated myself, hated myself, hated myself because — because I was the reason for all of this.
She'd never wanted this, never wanted to fall in love with me to begin with, but I dragged her into it anyway.
Because I was selfish.
Knew how it would end.
And now, I could only watch — only watch in this unbearable silence as the woman I loved wept over the man I hated.
"It's for the best, believe me—"
"No," she cut me off. "You're sacrificing me for this—this reputation of mine you think matters. It doesn't. I don't want any of it without you. I don't want a future where you're not in it."
She looked up then, eyes red and filled with unshed tears. "Because I love you, Satoru."
What?
The words turned my blood to ice.
After everything — the lies, the ways I'd hurt her, the desperate attempts to push her away — there it was, the confession I'd craved and feared in equal measure.
My heart was being ripped apart and stitched back together again in that very moment — vulnerable and yet so unbearably full.
She loved me, she said it.
She loves me.
She loves me.
And I love her.
God, how I loved her. More than I thought possible.
I've never once loved in my entire life.
Not until her.
Not until she changed me completely.
What is that, anyway? Love?
How can I possible describe the type of feeling I feel when I'm with her? How can I ever convey the words when they are not even clear to me?
How cruel it is. How utterly cruel the type of feeling is, that she makes me feel.
Because how could I ever live without it.
Not when she showed me how to breathe.
How to live.
How could I ever go back to what I was before her — was there even something before her?
Not when she showed me how to breathe.
With her.
For her.
Because she is the air that fills my lungs.
The pulse that keeps me alive.
And nothing can ever change that. So how could I ever go back to what I was before?
Oh, how she tortures me, tortures me with feelings I rather not feel, tortures me with her love that I deserve so little.
Nothing.
I deserve nothing and yet she gives me everything.
Why can't I give it back? What chains me, binds this rotten heart? Why does it fail me so cruelly to love her the way she deserves?
Because she does.
She deserves everything.
She is everything.
Yet there is only my own failure in loving her. I'm failing her again and again. I hurt her again and again. I hate myself, hate myself for the pain I cause her.
Still—
How can I let her go, when she's the only good thing in my life?
It is selfish, selfish to say the least, to want to keep her close when all I do is fail her.
Her tears were molten iron searing my insides. But I clench my jaw, refusing to let them break me. If she saw weakness, she might hesitate. Might stay and continue to be broken by me.
Every fiber of my being wanted nothing more than to reach out, to comfort her, to tell her it would all be okay.
More lies for a heart that deserved nothing but the truth. So I swallowed down the love threatening to spill from my lips.
I would give her anything, my life, the last shreds of my sanity — except the one thing she asked for, the only thing she ever ask for.
Because loving her, truly loving her, meant letting her go. Even if it destroys me.
"I spare you," I rasped.
"No." She slowly shook her head. "You're killing me. Can't you see?" There was a cold edge in her voice now. "You're killing me."
"I can't change. Love isn't enough. I can't stop."
"You're the only one who thinks that." Her reply held a flicker of her old, beautiful defiance, a defiance I loved so dearly. "I'd follow you anywhere, Satoru. Even if you can't get clean, then so be it. I don't care. I won't leave you."
The sincerity in her voice was a blow, a beautiful, terrible blow. Complete, unwavering acceptance of who I was, in all my brokenness.
And in that moment, I finally realized.
It wasn't about saving her. It was about saving myself from the terrifying vulnerability her love demanded. From the weakness that threatened to drown me if I let her in.
Perhaps I'm just a coward after all.
My heart was too damn small, too messed up. Of course I had to push her out, deny her the love she offered so freely — because it terrified me.
Her love terrified me.
"I can't do this to you," I choked out, the words scraping my throat raw. "You deserve—" I swallowed, the words catching in my throat. "You deserve better."
"Better?" She leaned forward slightly. "You are my better."
Oh, love, that's not true.
You are my better. I'm your worst.
I wanted to say that, should've said that.
But I remained silent, unable to say anything.
"Say something, Satoru."
I couldn't, simply couldn't. Because mere words were too hollow, too insignificant against the depth of her pain.
"Say something, damn it!"
"It will get easier someday," I chocked out. Each word felt like a stone I was forcing down my own throat. Each word empty — we both knew it.
"Is that what you hope for?"
"I have to."
She closed her mouth. Her silence more devastating than any scream. She didn't explode, as I half-expected. Instead, she straightened, her movements slow, weary.
I watched her, unable to move, unable to look away, as a horrifying realization bloomed across her face. It wasn't anger, wasn't sadness — it was a terrible understanding.
She knew. She always knew.
Perhaps that's what I hated about her the most.
"That's it?" she asked.
"That's it."
She watched me. Not in anger, but with chilling detachment. Her eyes, usually so filled with warmth, were now as distant as those of a stranger.
Still, I burned the image into my soul, knowing it might be the last time.
Then, without another word, she turned. And walked away.
When she finally disappeared from sight, a wave of crushing despair washed over me. It wasn't just the loneliness. It was the terrifying certainty that there was no going back from this.
I had destroyed the best thing in my life — a sacrifice she didn't even ask for.
But then again, my sacrifice is really only an illusion after all, masking a desperate, terrified selfishness.
Because I'm selfish.
I do love her. Gods, how I love her.
But my fear was stronger.
And I was too damn weak to fight it.
─── ·✧· ───
Four weeks.
Was it four weeks?
I can't remember.
Time — it didn't tick or flow anymore.
It was a shapeless thing. Punctuated only by the empty thump of my heart in this wrecked chest.
Those first days — or weeks, who knows? — they melted together in a haze. After she left, I was — raw. One giant exposed nerve.
Each damn breath without the pills felt like scraping sandpaper across it, a reminder of what I'd lost — no, what I'd destroyed.
So I was barely sober.
My body didn't even protest. At first, it was almost — nice? The rush, the way it wiped out not just the pain but any thought at all.
But the crash was always brutal. Mornings, if you could even call it that, I'd wake up shaking, sick to my stomach, and terrified of — what was I even terrified of? Somehow of everything and nothing at all. But I knew the fix for that.
It was a sick, relentless cycle.
The phone rang, vibrated with messages. Suguru mostly. His messages growing more urgent with each unanswered text. Liver issues. Treatment. Something about irreversible damage.
It was all white noise compared to the screaming in my head.
Her name, though, cut through the haze.
There were nights — or was it days? — when a desperate, clawing need to hear her voice, to see her face, would rise up in me. I'd reach for the phone, fingers hovering above her name. Then the fear would crush that impulse.
I knew that reaching out to her would be the final act of cruelty.
So I stumbled on, each day collapsing into the next.
Until the next semester started and I remembered I had an actual job.
─── ·✧· ───
I stood in the corridor outside the auditorium.
My fingers fumbled with the familiar pill bottle. Just enough to numb the edge, get me through the lecture. With a bitter swallow, I tilted the pill into my palm, chasing it down dry.
Four weeks. Four weeks of barely holding it together, four weeks since I almost OD'd, four weeks since she left, and the weight of it all threatened to crush me at any moment.
Yet, muscle memory took over.
I limped slightly as I walked into the auditorium. My leg still hurt after she basically cut my muscle in half.
She definitely did that on purpose. She was too smart not to not know what she was doing.
The usual chatter died down when I walked in. Old routine. Time for the performance. Pretend I'm the professor, pretend like this whole thing isn't ripping me apart, piece by piece. It should have been comforting.
Once, perhaps, it was.
Wordlessly, I grabbed a marker, scrawled my name on the board. Like they didn't already know who I was, right?
Everyone on campus knows, especially after this summer's mess.
With a sigh, I turned towards the class.
And there she was.
My breath hitched, the marker clattering to the floor. My lips parted, but no words came.
Of course.
Of fucking course.
Second-year lecture.
How the hell could I forget that?
She was here, after everything, right in front of me. The pain of the past weeks, that suffocating emptiness — it all melted away, replaced by a pounding headache in that one instant.
My eyes clung to her, unable to look away, drinking in the sight of her. That stubborn tilt of her head, the pain in those beautiful eyes — God, how I'd missed her.
Yet with every beat of my yearning heart came a fresh wave of guilt. I longed to reach out, to apologize, to tell her how much I'd missed her.
But I knew it was wrong.
Then, it hit me. Every eye in the room was on her, following my gaze like a spotlight burning into her. Damn it.
Still, she didn't flinch.
Endured it like she has always endured everything.
Clearing my throat, I managed to speak as I adverted my gaze. "So, uh, let's start the lecture."
My voice echoed in the now tense auditorium, words tumbling out in a forced attempt at normalcy. The lecture blurred. My own words were just noise in my head. I pushed through the lecture. Don't even remember what I lectured about.
It was routine, should have been easy, but — not with her there. Never with her.
Every damn minute, my eyes flicked towards her, drawn like a magnet. I couldn't help it. Because all I could see was her. But she avoided my gaze.
Should've expected that.
Shouldn't make me angry, right?
Still did.
Finally, thank god, the bell rang.
I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding.
I remained behind my desk and gathered my notes. Students surged towards the exit, a faceless blur of motion. My traitorous gaze remained locked on her as the auditorium slowly emptied.
She and her friends passed by me. Before I could even think, the words tumbled out, "Wait, not—not you, first-year."
Silence.
Her friend's chatter halted abruptly. I hadn't meant to say it, hadn't thought before the desperate need to speak to her had short-circuited my brain.
Now, it was done.
Her eyes, those beautiful eyes, met mine. For a moment, time seemed to stand still.
Her friends exchanged glances. I could feel Zenin glaring daggers at me, didn't even need to look. She'd always been fiercely protective.
"I'll catch up later," she said then to her friends, a strained smile plastered on her face.
They left, leaving us alone in the vast, suddenly suffocating auditorium.
Silence again.
My heart hammered against my ribs, so loud I feared she could hear it.
Finally, she spoke. "You know I'm not a first-year anymore."
I rounded the desk, the wood rough against my fingertips. "Yeah, right. Sorry." Leaning against it, I crossed my arms.
"Didn't you get suspended?"
"They postponed it."
She watched me for a moment, those beautiful eyes drilling into me. Her eyes held a coldness I've never seen before. For a sickening moment, I thought I might throw up.
"How are you?"
"Don't," she snapped. "Don't ask me that. Don't you dare pretend to care after—"
She stopped herself, the silence louder than any accusation. After everything you did. After you pushed me away. After you nearly killed yourself.
She didn't need to voice it.
My hands clenched into fists against the edge of my desk, nails digging into my palms in a futile attempt to ground myself. Needed to maintain this thin illusion of control.
I do care. Dammit, I care more than you'll ever know.
I wanted to scream it, to tear open my chest and show her the bleeding wound she'd left behind. But the words stuck in my throat.
Pointless now, anyway.
Knuckles turned white, nails digging deeper.
She stepped closer. Her hand darted into her bag, then shot out, palm open. Keys glinted in the harsh light — the keys to my apartment.
I watched them for a second. Should've expected that. Shouldn't hurt me. Still did.
"You don't have to return them. I want you to keep them."
"Why? I won't need them anymore, will I? Or are you planning on overdosing again?"
Each word was acid on an open wound.
I deserved this, the anger, the contempt, it was all on me. But why the hell did it make me so fucking angry?
"Have you ever thought about how I felt when I found you?" she snapped, her voice rising. "How terrified I was when you wouldn't respond? When you couldn't even recognize me? When I thought you'd die on me?" She took a shaky breath. "Fuck Satoru, I held your face in my hands while you were barely breathing!"
I tried to speak, but she cut me off. "Don't. You. Dare."
"Four weeks," she went on, her voice sharp, laced with a fury that cut to the bone. "Four weeks of silence. Ever think I might be drowning, haunted by what I saw? Or were you too busy numbing yourself with pills? Hell, I didn't even know if you'd overdosed for good this time!"
Her words hit me cold, but they weren't the storm tearing me apart. It was the image of her, terrified, holding my barely-alive body, that ripped my insides out.
Those eyes — her eyes filled with a terror that was all because of me. The guilt choked me. Seeing my near-death through her haunted eyes is twisted a knife in my gut.
It was the look of someone who'd had a piece of her soul ripped out.
It was the look of someone who loved me.
"But then again, you never cared about me, did you?" she added, the raw hurt bleeding beneath the anger.
My stomach twisted. "Don't you dare say that," I rasped, the words ripping from my throat. "I care so much it damn near killed me. You were the only thing keeping me alive, the only reason I fought at all! Don't you dare say I don't—" I choked, the pain unbearable.
The room seemed to tilt, my anger threatening to consume me.
I took a step towards her, closing the distance in one move. We were so close, I could smell her damn shampoo. "Every damn thing I did, every stupid decision—it was all because I care about you too much."
Her eyes widened. But only for a second. Then, that cold defiance was back, and it cut deep.
"You're really pathetic, you know that?" she spat. "You talk about caring, but in the end you threw everything away. Because you are too terrified to let yourself love me. Because apparently your own damn peace is worth more than me."
Her words were knives, finding their mark with cruel efficiency.
"Shut up," I whispered. "You know nothing."
"Oh really?" She glared at me, "then let me paint the picture for you—the minute things got difficult, the second you had to face actual consequences for your actions, you used it as an excuse to back away. Shut yourself down."
She moved closer still. "Convenient, wasn't it? Pushing me away, destroying us—it absolved you from having to confront anything real."
Her accusations hit uncomfortably close to home.
And I didn't want to hear it from her lips.
Not from hers.
"Shut up," I growled.
"Don't you dare tell me to shut up," she snapped back, her voice rising. "You don't get to play the victim here. You did this. You ruined everything."
Fury ignited, not at her, but at myself.
Blindly, I reached out, my fingers gripping her jaw so tight it bordered on violence. I forced her to look at me, my eyes burning into hers. "Shut up, or I swear to god, I'll make you."
Her chin lifted, eyes narrowing. "I dare you."
The words set me on fire. Every rational thought, every vestige of self-preservation was devoured by a sudden, desperate need. My gaze fell to her lips, slightly parted, a vulnerable target I craved to claim.
Without even thinking, my hand went to her waist, fingers digging in as I pulled her impossibly close. My other hand tangled in her hair, forcing her head back. Our eyes locked, some kind of messed-up challenge.
I could feel her rapid breaths on my skin, smell that damn perfume of hers that I'd always loved, but now was driving me to the edge of control. Her heart pounding against mine.
Everything in me screamed to close the distance, claim those lips that had haunted me, haunted me for weeks.
I wanted to claim her, to silence her, to lose myself in her, but my last shred of sanity held me back.
Because pushing her further into my nightmare was the ultimate act of cruelty.
"Uncomfortable, isn't it? Getting confronted with the ugly truth?" she whispered against my lips.
My grip on her tightened. She really didn't know when to stop, or maybe she simply wanted to watch me burn. Perhaps both.
"Don't push me."
"Why? Scared of what you'll find if you let yourself be honest for once?" Her head tilted. Her gaze was fire, and I was already ash. "You run, Satoru. From everything, but most of all, from yourself."
"And that," she leaned closer, almost brushing my lips, "is what makes you the most pathetic person I know."
Oh, she could be so viciously cruel when she wanted to. So disgustingly cruel. It was one of the things I'd fallen hopelessly in love with. Even now, as it tore me apart, I still loved it.
But I also wanted nothing more than to fuck that attitude out of her right then and there.
"You're right. You're always right. Maybe that's what's terrifies me about you so much."
"You're not terrified of me," she whispered. "You're terrified of yourself."
The air between us crackled. Every rational thought in my brain begged me to stop. Still, I couldn't resist. I inched closer, helpless against the force that binds and burns us both.
My hands tightened their hold as I took a sharp inhale. Her eyes fluttered shut, lashes trembling.
Our lips hovered, almost touching, two aching souls suspended in that impossible space. So much unspoken words, so much hurt, and the destructive pull between us that had always tethered us together.
Then, the auditorium door creaked open.
Her head snapped towards the sound. But I couldn't look away, wouldn't miss a second of her. Because this, right here, was all I had left.
Had to be Suguru anyway — anyone else would be screaming their heads off by now.
After a pause, she turned back at me. "You know, I'm still waiting."
"For what, love?"
"For it to get easier."
I looked at her, the woman I loved, and guilt clawed at my insides. That hurt, that anger on her face — I deserved it all. Because it was the consequence of the pain I'd caused.
"You said it would get easier," she added.
It was a lie. Nothing about this was easy. Nothing ever would be again. Suddenly, the room felt too small, the air thick and unbreathable.
"I don't know if it ever will."
Perhaps I was only meant to love her in silence.
In distance.
Because at least then I couldn't hurt her anymore.
Suguru cleared his throat. He stepped into the room, breaking the moment.
Reluctantly, I let go of her. She stepped back, eyes holding mine for a second, something flickering there that I didn't dare try to read. Then, without another word, she turned and walked away.
I watched her go.
Suguru approached me, stopping close by. He didn't say anything.
I leaned against the desk, running a hand through my hair. The adrenaline from that almost-kiss crashed, leaving behind a hollow ache.
The sound of the door slamming behind her echoed in the empty auditorium, way too loud.
Suguru's hand landed on my shoulder.
"You really have a thing for bad timing," I muttered.
"Bad timing," he echoed, "or good timing to stop you from doing something stupid?"
I didn't answer. The memory of her, so close, choked every thought out of my mind.
"You know it was the right thing to do. With everything going on, letting her go was the right decision."
"I know," I said, pushing off the desk and rounding it to gather my things. I couldn't meet his gaze. "I'm trying to remember that."
Suguru then started placing pill bottles on the desk with a serious expression. The first clink of plastic on wood cut through the silence.
"Prednisone for the liver inflammation." Another bottle. "Lactulose for the hepatic encephalopathy." Then another. "Vitamin B and K for the nutritional deficiencies."
"But you know the first step would be to—" he paused for a second then placed another two bottles in from of me. "Methadone, to manage the withdrawal and craving. And Naltrexone, to block the euphoric effects of your opioids."
Hesitantly, another bottle appeared. "Clonidine, in case you feel like you're dying."
"Suguru—" I began, but he cut me off.
"Satoru, you have to get clean. The pills won't do a damn thing if you keep wrecking your liver."
"Yeah, it's a little late for that, don't you think? It's the only thing keeping me sane right now."
He sighed. "You're the absolute worst patient ever."
"Aw, come on, I thought you liked a bit of challenge. You're the best doctor, you'll figure something out." I rummaged through my bag, pulling out a folder.
"Even the best doctor on earth can't help if you don't—"
I shoved the folder across the desk, cutting him off. "What's this?"
"It's a patient. An anyeurism. I'm still not allowed to do surgery, not until this thing with the ethics committee is over."
Suguru opened the folder, flipping through the pages. "You want me to do it? Is there something special about this patient?"
"I want you to take her with you," I said quietly. "She likes aneurysm clippings."
Suguru looked up, that familiar crease between his brows. "She'll figure it out. Sooner or later. Latest when you're in the hospital waiting for a liver transplant, not lecturing anymore."
Silence stretched. My eyes fell on the pill bottles lined up on the desk.
I sighed, then gathered them and crammed them into my bag. "Let's go. I need fresh fair," I said as I brushed past him, putting the withdrawal meds back into his hands.
Without another word, I left the auditorium.
─── ·✧· ───
My eyes snapped open.
I sat upright, a strangled gasp tearing from my throat. My heart hammered against my ribs, each beat threatening to burst right out of my chest.
For a disorienting second, the world was a blur. Sweat drenched my skin. My lungs screamed for air.
Damn nightmares.
Another night of that shit.
I clutched at my chest, trying to quell the frantic pounding. Cold sweat made my shirt cling to my skin. The room spun. My pulse thundered in my ears.
I fumbled for the lamp, the sudden brightness stinging my eyes. But it didn't chase away the image seared into my brain. Her face, cruel, beautiful, cruelly beautiful, twisted in absolute terror. My stomach twisted.
My fault.
Always my fault.
I couldn't breathe right.
Sleep was a lost cause now. First decent rest in a week, and my brain decided to torment me again. Exhaustion was its own kind of hell, but it was nothing compared to this. That, more than anything, was the real torture.
I slumped forward, scrubbing a hand over my face.
I'd hurt her.
I'd hurt her, the one person who meant something.
Every day, it felt more like I'd made the biggest mistake of my life. Letting her go, pushing her away, I—
I hated myself.
Hated the way I ruined everything.
Hated the way I ruined every chance at something good.
It was like a damn curse.
Nothing good ever lasted for me. I should've known that by now.
Damn it, I knew it was wrong. But how the hell could it be wrong when it'd felt so damn right? When she was the only thing, the only person, that cut through the crap, made this whole mess seem like it might have some sort of meaning?
How could that possibly be wrong?
Guilt ate at my insides. Had I been a damn coward? Too scared to fight for something that made me feel, really feel?
Perhaps.
Easier to push her away, sabotage the whole damn thing, than risk actually letting her in. Letting anyone in. Losing control. But it didn't matter now, did it?
It was over.
I needed out. Out of my head, out of this apartment, out of my own damn skin.
The silence was unbearable.
I pushed off the bed, muscles screaming in protest. I slipped into running clothes, the routine automatic. As I laced up my shoes, a sharp sting shot through my leg from the still-healing cut on my leg.
That bitch.
The more I thought about it, the more sure I was she'd done it on purpose.
Good thing I was addicted to painkillers, huh?
I drowned a pill — no two, for good measure — before stepping outside into the pre-dawn chill.
Cold autumn air bit at my skin. Each step echoed on the empty street. The pills kicked in, dulling the sharp pain in my leg. Good. Long as the cut didn't split open, I didn't damn care.
I pushed myself, needing the burn in my muscles, the ache in my lungs, to drown out the constant echo of her voice, her name, in my head.
The world blurred. Streetlights, shadows, it all melded together. The only reality was the ache in my body, the cold air forcing its way into my lungs. My mind, for once, was mercifully blank.
No nightmares, no guilt, no memories of her haunted eyes — just the simple focus on putting one foot in front of the other.
I didn't set a goal, didn't choose a destination.
Just moving, pushing, escaping.
Sweat dripped, but I barely registered. With each mile, the crushing weight eased. Not gone, hell, not even close to forgotten, but — manageable.
I ran until the city was a smear of lights, until my legs burned and my lungs screamed.
Finally, gasping for breath, legs threatening to give out, I stumbled to a halt. The neon lights of a Seven Eleven cut through the pre-dawn darkness. My throat was sandpaper. I pushed through the door.
Inside, the harsh lights stung my eyes. I grabbed a water, my body on autopilot as I shuffled toward the register. The bored-looking teenager behind the counter gave me a sidelong look as I fumbled for my wallet.
"Rough night?"
"Something like that." I glanced down at my leg, the still-healing cut a visible red line. Wincing, I shifted my weight, favoring the uninjured side.
I pulled out my card to pay, but then a flash of color caught my eye. Beside the cashier's register, stacked in a gaudy pyramid, was a display of energy drinks. I starred at them for a second, the name oddly familiar.
I knew why the name was so familiar.
I reached for a can and placed it on the counter. "And this."
Outside, I downed the water in a matter of seconds. Then, I cracked open the energy drink. The first sip hit my tongue. Surprisingly, it didn't taste half-bad without a shot of stale coffee to ruin it.
But the taste wasn't the problem, wasn't it?
Memories flooded back. Her, hunched over a massive anatomy textbook in the dim library, those beautiful eyes ringed with exhaustion. Beside her, half-empty, a mug of coffee — spiked with the sickeningly sweet energy drink I currently held.
Just the thought of that awful mixture made my stomach turn.
Still, a smile tugged at my lips.
Dammit, I didn't want to think about her. But to be fair, thinking, not thinking — it was all the same. The dull, constant ache of her absence throbbed beneath it all.
I chugged the rest of the energy drink, crushing the can in my hand.
Ah, fuck it.
Before my sanity could interfere, my legs were in motion.
I knew this was wrong. Knew every step took me closer to more pain. Knew all along this was stupid, reckless — inevitable.
I couldn't stop.
The pull towards her was too damn strong. I needed to see her, to confirm her existence, to know she was real, to fix — what? What the hell could I fix? What the hell did I even think I was doing?
Finally, gasping for breath, I stumbled to a halt outside her apartment building.
A glance at my watch confirmed the hour — well past 3 am. Insane. I hadn't expected her to be awake. Just needed the pathetic reassurance of her presence. But as I looked up, my breath hitched.
In a second-floor window, a flicker of warm light spilled into the darkness. And there, etched against that warmth — her silhouette. Unmistakable.
A heavy exhale escaped my lips.
She was there.
Here.
On this same cursed world with me.
My heart pounded against my ribs. I knew, I had no right to be here. But god, I needed this, needed to see her.
She sat on the windowsill, book in hand. My future wife. Even in the dead of night, she was studying. How I loved her.
My gaze traced the familiar curve of her shoulders, the way the soft lamplight painted her skin with warmth, highlighting the strands of hair escaping her messy bun.
In that stolen moment, I could almost convince myself that things were different, that my actions hadn't irrevocably shattered something precious.
But then, she moved. Rising from her seat, she stretched, drawing the fabric of her shirt upwards. Before my mind could catch up, she was at the window, pushing it open. I froze.
She was staring down — right at me.
Shit.
I held my breath. For what felt like an eternity, we simply stared at each other. A muscle in her jaw twitched. Then her gaze dropped, breaking eye contact.
"You're bleeding."
I glanced down. The edge of my shorts was soaked through, a fresh stain of crimson spreading. Damn it. The cut had reopened.
"Yeah," I said, looking back up at her, "I'm a mess."
I braced myself for whatever was coming. The anger, the disgust, the righteous fury — it would all be justified. I deserved it. But she simply watched me. Her gaze was steady, devoid of emotion.
"You know where the entrance is," she said finally, then leaned back into the soft glow of her room and closed the window shut.
Before my brain could catch up with how wrong this was, I walked toward the apartment building.
─── ·✧· ───
I sat on the edge of her bed, she on a chair in front of me, her hands already on my leg as she pushed the fabric of my shorts up. "How could you not notice that?"
I opened my mouth, but she cut me off, "Wait, forget it."
Yeah. Now she remembered.
With practiced efficiency, she began cleaning the wound. Her touch was surprisingly gentle, considering how pissed she must be.
The silence was heavy, broken only by the rustle of bandages and my occasional sharp intake of breath when the antiseptic hit a raw spot.
My eyes wandered. Her space, even small and half-finished, felt warm, lived in. Smelled like her. Books spilling everywhere, papers scattered on a desk, a yoga mat forgotten in the corner — the organized chaos was so perfectly her.
Then my gaze landed on the half-unpacked boxes stacked against the wall. She really still didn't fully move in. Occupied with my mess, huh?
Guilt flooded me. I didn't deserve this, didn't deserve her gentle hands on me, not after everything.
Yet, a selfish part of me wanted nothing more than to stay exactly like this, wanted nothing more than to keep her hands on me.
With a sigh, I sank back against her pillows. Exhaustion seeped into my bones. Pain returned as the effects of the pills wore off.
Her fingers brushed the reopened cut. I winced, throwing an arm over my eyes. The relentless pounding in my head threatened to split me open, spilling all the ugly thoughts onto her pristine sheets.
"You've had nightmares again, haven't you?"
Huh?
I lifted my head a fraction, struggling to meet her eyes. She glanced up briefly, her eyes guarded, then focused back on my leg.
"Yeah, something like that." My head thumped back onto the pillow. "Hard to sleep when your head won't shut up."
"What dose?"
"You really don't want to know."
"I asked because I do," she countered. The sharp tug as she tightened the bandage around my leg was enough to make me speak.
"Ten milligrams," I admitted, wincing. "The usual."
She scoffed, then another, even sharper, tug had me gritting my teeth. "Ngh—fuck," I moaned.
I really needed a pill now.
She stood, gathering the first-aid supplies. "Heals slowly, doesn't it?"
I knew it.
I popped myself up on one elbow, raising an eyebrow at her.
"Don't give me that look. You know damn well you deserved it."
I let out a dry laugh. "You really are a bitch sometimes." I dropped back onto the bed, my hand reaching for my throbbing head.
I needed two pills now.
"You've got some damn nerve. You show up here in the middle of the night, injured, high—"
"I'm not high—"
"Save it," she spat. "You know what your fucking problem is? You can't stand being alone. Alone with your thoughts, with yourself. So you run. You run to pills, to whatever distraction you can find, anything to fill the void."
Yeah, how the hell am I supposed to want to be alone after feeling what it's like to be with you, stupid.
"You're too damn scared to face your fears," she continued, her voice laced with a bitter edge, "and when someone threatens your artificial peace, someone who might actually force you to look in the damn mirror, you panic. You sabotage it, push them away before it all gets too real, too close."
She stepped closer. "Because it's easier, isn't it? Safer to stick with the misery you know than risk having to face that void."
Every word stung, but I couldn't deny it, couldn't lie anymore.
"You're right. And I'm sorry—"
"Don't." She rose a hand at me. "Don't pretend you care, Satoru. You've made it clear how little I matter."
How little you matter?
Oh, love, you couldn't be more wrong.
A harsh laugh escaped me.
"You find this funny?"
"No, love," I said, pushing myself up. My leg throbbed in protest, but I ignored it. Everything narrowed down to her. I moved closer, a strange recklessness fueling me. "Quite the opposite."
Something flickered in her eyes — surprise? wariness? — but the anger remained.
"Keep going," I insisted, moving closer. "Let it out. Yell at me, tell me how pathetic I am. Make me feel something, anything other than this damn emptiness."
She hesitated. Her eyes searched mine, and for a breathless moment, I hoped that her fury, her anger, would burn away the numbness, making me feel something, anything.
Because even her anger was better than her indifference.
I couldn't stand being indifferent to her.
Might as well make her hate me.
"You want me to yell at you?" Her voice rose, the first hint of the storm I craved. "Fine! You wanna be a pathetic mess? Go ahead! Piss away your career, your life, whatever the hell you care about, I don't give a damn anymore!"
Each word hit me, but there was a desperate relief in it. Finally, she wasn't looking at me with that chilling indifference, that cold pity that twisted a knife in my gut.
Her rage, it was fire — scorching and brutal, but alive. And I loved it.
Because it was prove she still cared, even if it was just to hate me with every fiber of her being. It was better than the void, that terrible chasm that had opened up between us after I'd pushed her away.
I closed the distance, enjoying the anger in her eyes. She flinched, but didn't back down.
"More." I grabbed her waist, lifting her with ease, and hauled her towards the bed.
"You're weak!" she spat, pushing against my chest, her voice rising with each word.
Yeah, so damn weak for you, love.
"You're selfish! So consumed by your own self-pity you can't see how you hurt everyone around you!"
Her words should have hurt. They probably would have, under different circumstances. But right now, I couldn't care less.
"Keep going," I rasped, my pulse pounding in my ears. I forced her onto the bed and hovered over her, my body trapping her between the mattress and my own. "C'mon, love, let it all out."
"You don't deserve me," she continued. "You don't deserve anyone who gives a damn, because you only know how to destroy things."
Each word was a knife. Yet, with each insult, the suffocating hollowness inside me eased a fraction. I wanted her anger, the full force of it, wanted the burn only she could inflict on me.
"More."
Her breath hitched, eyes narrowing. "You keep breaking my heart over and over, then come crawling back when it suits you, like it doesn't matter!"
"You're right." I leaned in, my thumb brushing over her bottom lip. The thin fabric of her shirt did little to hide her shivers. "C'mon, love, give it to me. I know you can do better."
In one swift move, I ripped my shirt over my head, tossing it to the floor. I leaned down again, my breath ghosting over her lips. "Hate me." My hands went for the flimsy waistband of her shorts. "Tell me how much you despise me."
Her breaths came fast, quick gasps against my skin. I could see it all over her face — the rage, the fear, and maybe — yeah, maybe that darker edge, the same desperation burning in me.
"I fucking hate you, Satoru. Hate that you made me care, made me fall for you, then crushed it."
"Don't stop," I said, my voice a hoarse rasp. "Say it again." Before she could react, her shorts were down, exposing her to the night air. My own pants followed hasty, desperate. "Say you hate me."
"I fucking hate that you treat me like I'm just another damn plaything to fill whatever void your messed-up mom or whatever left you with!"
Okay, now it gets personal.
"I fucking hate that you act like you can control me," she hissed, but her body betrayed her, shivered running down her skin as my hands gazed her collarbone. "Hate that you make my choices for me, decide what's good for me, like you got to have control over something when you obviously can't control yourself!"
Damn, Freud himself is on to something tonight, huh? She really doesn't know when to stop.
"You're a fucking hypocrite, you know that?" I leaned closer, my mouth close to her ear. "You hate who I am, but you crave this, don't you? Giving up control, being at my mercy. Admit it."
Her eyes widened, then narrowed. She lifted a hand, as if to slap me, but I was faster. I caught her wrists and pinned them above her head, pressing them hard into the mattress.
"You know it's true," I pressed, relishing the way she struggled against my hold. "It's hard always being the composed one, isn't it? The responsible one. It's draining. Maybe that's why you're drawn to me. You love the thrill as much as I do, don't you?"
She stared at me, silent, her lips a tight line.
"Prove me wrong, sweetheart. Call me a liar, and I'll show you just how wrong you are," I leaned in closer, my voice a harsh whisper against her lips. "We're the same, you and me. We feed off each other. Even if you hate to admit it, I fill that emptiness inside you same as you do for me."
"You arrogant piece of shit!" she spat, twisting and bucking against my grip. "You think you know everything, control everything!"
"Don't I?" My grip tightened, feeling her pulse throb against my fingers. "Seems I've got you pinned pretty damn well, wouldn't you say?"
"You know it's true. You love this. Makes you feel something your books, your fancy grades never could."
"Screw you, Satoru," she hissed, venom in her voice. "We're nothing alike."
"You really are a fool, for wanting to fix something so broken it'll cut you to shreds the moment you get close and then you cry afterwards—"
Her spit hit my face. I closed my eyes for a second, then a smile twisted across my lips.
My future wife just spit in my face — what a good anecdote on our wedding day.
"That's my girl," I rasped, shoving her legs wider. "Tell me how much you hate me. Scream it."
"I fucking hate you Satoru, I hate you—"
Her words died on her tongue as I thrust forward, filling her completely. I closed my eyes, letting my head hang heavy for a second.
My god, the things this woman's body could do to me. I could feel her body trembling beneath me, her heart racing as she arched her back.
How treacherous a body can be, huh?
"Hate you, Satoru," she managed to say before she closed her eyes, biting down her lip as I thrust deeper still. Her thighs spread further apart, inviting me closer, urging me onward.
She's so damn beautiful.
I grinned, my hands still holding her wrists in place over her head. "I know you do, love. But you know what?" My lips were only a breath away from hers. "I hate you, too. I hate how you make me feel, how you expose every broken piece of me, how I crave you like I crave another fix."
Hell, I might just be addicted to this woman.
I pulled out fully, before thrusting back into her. Her head fell back, pressing into the mattress as a strangled moan escaping her lips.
She felt incredible.
Pulling back slowly, I watched her body react to the absence, her eyes flickering open to meet mine. Those pupils dilated with need, mirroring my own hunger for her.
In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not our fight. Not our problems. Not our insults that had left our lips moments before. Just us — two halves coming together in a perfect whole.
I pushed back into her, deeper, harder.
With each thrust, I felt myself sinking deeper into her, losing myself in her. Fuck, if there was anything better than this — well, I hadn't found it yet.
This woman owned me — plain and simple.
It was madness, this pull towards her.
Insane, perhaps.
But it was also undeniably real. So real that even though dawn threatened to break soon, stealing away whatever remnants of darkness remained, I couldn't help but chase after that high only she could provide.
Even knowing full well that when morning arrived, reality would crash down upon us, forcing us back onto opposite sides of the divide.
"Look what you've done to me, love. You're making a fool of me." I whispered against her lips without touching them.
Weren't together anymore after all.
Kissing would be too much.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly beneath me. Her nails dug into my skin where my hands gripped her wrists. With each deep thrust, I watched her face contort with pleasure and pain, her features illuminated by fleeting streaks of moonlight seeping through the curtains.
I loved that look on her face.
I wondered if I could make that look even more pathetic.
I pulled out, dragging the tip of my length across her clit before pushing back in. She squirmed underneath me, arching her back. But I denied her, keeping my unhurried pace. I wanted to draw out this sweet torture for as long as possible.
Hours passed — or perhaps mere minutes. I couldn't tell anymore. All that mattered was this woman writhing beneath me.
Groaning in frustration, she attempted to break free from my grip. "Dammit, Satoru. If you won't finish what you started, then get off me!"
I smirked. "Why so eager, love. Can't handle the wait?" I leaned in to kiss down the side of her neck. She shivered beneath me, her breath hitching as my teeth grazed her skin.
With my free hand I reached down, running my fingers down her quivering stomach, relishing in the shivers that coursed through her body.
She glared up at me, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "Stop calling me 'love'. I don't belong to you, not anymore—"
She gasped into my mouth when I found her clit. Slowly, deliberately, I began to circle it with my thumb, feeling her surrender to me. I plunged deeper, thrusting into her mercilessly.
Let her hate me all she wants. She can't deny the chemistry between us — a spark that refuses to fade, no matter how hard either of us tries.
She must have hated this — hated how she surrendered to me, even with all that anger. Made me wondered if I could rail her up even more.
"You think you're so much better than me?" I rasped. "So strong, so selfless, always putting others first? It's a lie, and you know it. You're just bored."
"You fucker!" Before I knew what was happening, she broke free of my grasp and had flipped us over so that she was now straddling my hips.
Without warning, she reached forward, gripping my throat with surprising strength as she leaned down, her hair falling like a curtain around our faces. I couldn't help but smile.
"Don't project your bullshit on me," she seethed, her face inches from mine.
Her words sent a chill down my spine, stirring up a fresh wave of desire within me. Damn, this woman was infuriating — and captivating in the worst way possible.
We glared at each other like enemies preparing for battle.
"Aren't you a little tired? Pulling up that act all the time?" I choked out, feeling her fingers dig in further. "Deep down, you're just as bored as me, you're just too righteous to admit it."
"Shut up," she hissed, pressing harder, choking the words out of me.
This was madness. Destructive madness. But for this one desperate moment, I didn't care. It was exhilarating, addictive. Because love, our twisted, broken love, wasn't supposed to be pretty.
It was messy, chaotic, and borderline abusive. But sometimes all you need is a firm grip around the throat to remind you that you're alive.
"Harder, love," I gasped, a laugh bubbling up in my constricted throat. "Come on, make me feel your rage."
Slowly, deliberately, she began grinding her hips against mine, setting a maddening pace that left me reeling. Fuck, I think I love it even more when she hates me.
"Ahh, shit," I gasped, clutching at her thighs as she rode me mercilessly. "That's it."
Eyes squeezed shut, my head rolled back. Chills prickled my skin, possibly due to the cool breeze drifting in from the window. Or perhaps it was merely her.
She rode me with increased speed, and I could barely contain the overwhelming sensations coursing through my body. Every fiber of my being screamed for release.
My knuckles on her thighs turned white from the force. "Oh, shit, you're going to kill me," I moaned between choked sounds that escaped my lips.
My lips twisted into a smile again. "Admit it. You love the chaos as much as I do. The thrill, the way it makes you feel alive."
"You're wrong," she said, increasing her pace making my cock twitch inside her. "We're nothing alike."
"Keep telling yourself that," I replied, struggling to catch my breath, as she made me lose my mind. "But I know the truth—we're two sides of the same coin."
"You really believe that, don't you?"
"Why else would you be here, like this, with me?" I countered. "Face it, we're addicted to each other—the highs, the lows, the constant push and pull. It's exhilarating, isn't it?"
"You're the only addict here."
"Liar," I rasped.
Her muscles clenched around me, drawing me deeper inside her. She was close. Each contraction of her pushing me further towards a peak that I knew would soon shatter me.
But I wasn't ready yet. Not quite.
I shifted our positions, sitting upright before spinning us around so she was now beneath me on the mattress. I positioned myself behind her, forcing her down onto the mattress.
I slowly slid my hand along her spine as I pushed her further down, feeling her tremble beneath my touch, the softness of her skin beneath my fingertips.
It was intoxicating to watch her submit to me.
"Fuck, you'll be the death of me."
Leaning down, I pressed my lips against the small of her back, feeling her shiver once more. My hand continued its descent, stopping just short of where she needed me.
"Satoru," my name fell from her lips.
Oh, how I loved it when she breathed my name like that. I couldn't resist her — could never resist her. I was at her mercy. Even now.
She arched her back, silently pleading for me to continue. I slid my hand between her legs. "God, you're so fucking wet," I murmured, slipped a finger inside her, then another. She was so tight, so warm.
I couldn't wait to be inside her again.
She gasped, pushing back against me. "Don't stop."
Curving my fingers, I searched for that spot that I knew would drive her mad. When I found it, she cried out, her hips bucking against my hand. Her hands scrabbled at the sheets, grasping for purchase as I started to move inside her.
"Yes, fuck," she moaned, spreading her legs wider. "Right there."
Oh, love. I know you like that.
I smiled, relishing the fact that I knew her body better than herself. I knew every inch of her, every freckle, every scar, every sensitive spot that made her squirm.
"More," she begged.
I happily obliged, adding a third finger and thrusting deeper. She was soaking wet, her juices coating my fingers as I fucked her with my hand. Her moans grew louder, more urgent. She was close, so close.
I increased the pace of my fingers, pumping them in and out of her as I used my thumb to apply pressure to her clit.
However, as her moans reached a fever pitch, I withdrew my fingers, denying her release.
She gasped, glanced over her shoulder at me, her mouth open, but said nothing — probably out of breath.
I brought my fingers to my mouth, savoring the taste of her. It was so uniquely her. I couldn't get enough.
Leaning in, I pressed my body against hers from behind, my hard length probed at her entrance.
I leaned down over her, my hand snaking into her hair. I grabbed it tightly, forcing her head up to meet mine. "I love you, first-year," I murmured against her ear.
She trembled, but her defiance remained strong. "I hate you."
I sighed — always so fierce, makes me wonder what it takes to fuck that stubborn attitude out of her.
"It's alright, I love you enough for both of us."
With that, I pushed her head down into the mattress. Her cry muffled by the sheets beneath her as I thrust into her once more, bottoming out inside her with a groan.
I began to move in and out of her. Faster now, harder until the headboard slammed against the wall. Her muscles clenched around me, drawing me deeper inside her. She clawed at the sheets beneath her, her moans muffled by the fabric.
As her cries grew louder, I quickly pushed her face further into the mattress. "Quiet, first year," I murmured as I angled myself to rub against her G-spot, making it harder for her to keep quiet. "Wouldn't want to disturb anyone in the middle of the night, would we?"
Neither of us spoke a word — not that she could but — perhaps because there was nothing left to say. Instead, we communicated solely through our actions, saying everything that needed to be said without opening our mouths.
I increased both the pace and pressure. Nearly causing her to fall forward hadn't I held her in place with one hand on her waist and one sill in her hair. Her breath hitched, her entire body tensed as she approached her breaking point.
Oh, how I loved feeling her tighten around me.
Bringing her closer to the edge was a thrill like no other. Watching her lose control, hearing her cries and moans, feeling her body tremble beneath me — it was intoxicating.
I could feel myself getting closer to the edge, my balls tightening as I approached my own release.
Her cries grew louder, more urgent, until finally, she shattered around me, her orgasm triggering my own.
With a final thrust, I emptied myself inside her, filling her completely. Her contractions milked every last drop from me, her body still quivering around me.
I stayed inside her, savoring the feeling. It might be the last time.
I was panting, my chest rising and falling rapidly as I tried to catch my breath. My cock was still twitching inside her. Reluctantly, I pulled out with a low moan.
I stayed behind her for a moment longer, admiring the curve of her waist, the sheen of sweat on her skin in the sliver of moonlight.
Don't know when or if I'll ever see that again.
Time seemed to stand still, suspended indefinitely as we tried to find our breath again.
Then she turned her head. "You're a fucking idiot," she finally said.
"Tell me something I don't know."
She shifted to face me, her expression serious. "Promise me something."
"Anything you want, love."
"Promise me, you won't kill yourself with your pills."
I swallowed hard. That's not what'll get me, I thought, as I felt a sharp pain lancing through my right side.
I moved closer, cupping her face with my hands that trembled slightly. For an insane moment, I wanted to kiss her, but I knew I couldn't — couldn't ever again. "I promise," I rasped.
The words heavy with a lie we both knew.
<- prev chapter | next chapter ->
author's note: wooooaaa, another insane!gojo chapter lol. this chapter really killed me, was crying, screaming, throwing up while writing.
i'm equally scared and excited to hear what you think about todays chapter, ngl. originally i didn't plan a smut scene in this chapter, but you know, somewhere down that line gojo just happened and here we are.
also like, i think now both their's darkest secrets are now out — in the worst way possible. also because i keep getting messages regarding how much chapters are left of the story, idk i write form chapter to chapter. we're down somewhere the 60—70 % line with the story i guess, but we'll see. still more to uncover of gojo's past and all that.
also sorry for the people asking of for more fluff and happy moments, ehhh, there will be some in the future?? also i'm still sticking to the plan of a happy ending, so don't worry!! gojo fucked up big time and the next chapters will center about him trying to fight his fears and get shit together — let's see if he can do that. curious myself.
so thank you so so much for sicking by with the story. sending kisses to all of you lovely people seeing me messages, leaving likes, comments and reblog stuff. it really makes my heart happy everything i see a notification. love you all sm!! ♡
okay my last note, just so you know, i'm going on vocation soon, so the next chapter will be a bit delayed again, sorraaaayyy!! wishing you a great day or night and an awesome weekend ahead! ♡
🏷️ @sad-darksoul @aerithsthingss @mylovelessnightmare @bbyxxm @musababy @neuviloved @ykehqqy @hexrts-anatomy @fvsm4x @tw0fvced @heijihattorisgf @sadmonke @thatsopanu @sirencholia @sugurusdiscordmoderator @erwinslut @shervinss @certainlysyko @mechalily @purplehallow11 @kendall0111 @bloopsstuff @therealestpussyeater @louoi7 @whereflowerswenttodie @billiondollarworth @deluluforcarlos55 @starrynight-777 @vina21 @michelleeveline @boba-is-a-soup @cre8inghavoc @love-jelly @daimiyu @d0nk3y-k0ng @mo0nforme @smolbeanzzz @oneiricals @ynishalee @gojolvrr34 @nanasukii28 @ariiiii0938 @kelppsstuff @tojisdollx @drakenswifeyy @bakarinnie @vina21 @phoenix-eclipses @nanamis-baker @neptnszn (pls comment on the series masterlist to get tagged in the future!)
#symptoms and causes#gojo saturo#jujutsu kaisen#saturo gojo x reader#jjk x reader#gojo x reader#gojo x y/n#gojo x you#gojo x female reader#satoru gojo smut#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo angst#gojo angst#jjk smut#gojo satoru#jjk x you#jjk fanfic
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Just a comic about two people catching up again [Angel AU]
[ID: A Trigun comic of Wolfwood after his death in Trigun Maximum.
Abbreviated ID: Wolfwood is now an angel with wings and a halo tied to his grave. He cannot be seen or heard by others, but Livio visited his grave and mostly filled him in on the finale, and Wolfwood waits for Vash to show up. When he does, Wolfwood is stunned and worried by his black hair, though he deems Vash fine when he pulls out drinks for them both.
Vash pours the drinks and talks. He confesses that he killed someone and calls himself a coward and the worst, apologizing for being selfish and not saving Wolfwood. Wolfwood angrily shouts that everything was his decision, and Vash is an idiot for blaming himself.
He says that Vash has done so much for Wolfwood and for others, and he calls Vash brave. Vash falls asleep with tears in his eyes, but he seems lighter when he wakes up. Vash leaves, promising to return, and Wolfwood says that he'll "watch him from afar... again." The title is "#1 'What happened to your hair?'". Full ID below readmore in 21 paragraphs.
The comic starts with a dark, noise-filter panel of the Punisher being used as Wolfwood's gravestone, with the quote "Nicholas D. Wolfwood has died" written over it.
Below that is Wolfwood, who has wings and a halo. He sits pensively and narrates, "At least, that's what everyone has come to believe, including me. Yet here I am, still roaming on this damn barren planet... But I wouldn't say I'm quite alive anymore. Since I couldn't feel hunger or thirst like I used to." He thinks, "'Ghost,' like those horror stories was it?"
He narrates over sketchy panels of himself frowning while floating next to his grave and yelling at Livio. "There, are other things I found that fits the term, like how I can't bring myself to far too far from my grave, or how others can't see me at all." We see Livio tearing up and saying "Nico-nii..." while Wolfwood furiously waves his arms and shouts, "I am!! Here!!!!"
Livio is shown speaking with a teary smile while Wolfwood leans against Punisher and listens. Wolfwood says, "Livio is the first and only person I've met so far. And luckily, he was quite a storyteller. I was able to get a grasp of the situation, and its aftermath. And what happened to him in the end."
Livio smiles and says, "It's been three months ever since... But even if we couldn't get ahold of him now, I'm sure he'll come back to you someday." Wolfwood narrates, "—And knowing that idiot, he probably would."
A close-up of Vash's coat in the wind as Wolfwood narrates, "So it didn't come as a surprise to me when he visited my grave. I'd even thought up of things to say when we meet again. Everything was thrown out of the window when he appears, of course. I could vividly remember the one question that burns in my head..."
Wolfwood looks shocked as Vash, hair fully black, waves cheerfully, "Yo! It's been a while, hasn't it? Wolfwood." Below the two floats the question: "#1 'What happened to your hair?'"
Wolfwood sweats, "Spikey, your hair. Doesn't it mean... Are you okay???" Vash smiles sheepishly, "Ah, I hope you're not mad I didn't come sooner, don't haunt me please..." Wolfwood shouts, "That's not the problem right now!!" Vash pulls something out and exclaims, "But look what I got for you!! Alcohol!!!" Wolfwood shouts, "What sort of person do you see me as!?"
Vash excitedly pulls out a bottle and two shot glasses. "It's not the only reason why I'm late, but it did took me a month to hunt this down... I recall you said you wanted to try them, right?" Wolfwood buries his face in his hands and says, "Where the hell are your priorities... You know what, yeah. I'm not gonna ask anymore since you look fine."
Vash smiles a bit tiredly and says, "Hmm,, I'm glad this place hasn't turn to ruins yet~ I've still got lots I need to tell you that's happened out there! And I thought it's better to talk about it with drinks on the side…" He clinks two glasses together. "So, cheers! ..."
He and Wolfwood are both awkwardly silent, and Vash sweats and frowns nervously. Then he pours a glass onto the ground, and Wolfwood furiously shouts, "D'ya really expect me to drink off the ground!? Stupid needle noggin!!!!!"
Vash laughs sheepishly, and he speaks via empty speech bubbles while Wolfwood listens, drinking with a small smile. Vash says, "... And when that happened I..." He drops his gaze and says between long pauses, "I..... When that happened......" Wolfwood watches him seriously as he says, "... Say. Wolfwood, is this how you've felt all the time?"
Vash looks down sadly. "You I see, I... killed someone in the end." He laughs, eyebrows drawn in. "I guess you're right. I am bound to choose someday." He takes another sip, then downs it and falls backwards. "Isn't it funny? That I've called you a coward once for killing... But guess who's the coward now~? It's always been me, isn't it?"
Vash lies on his back and laughs. "... Haha. I wonder if you're laughing too. I really am the worst, aren't I?" Wolfwood looks down as Vash continues, "You've done so much for me, but all I've caused you are troubles. I was selfish, always chasing after my own goals... That you couldn't ask for my help. That I couldn't save you. Just what kind of friend am I?"
Vash scrubs his eyes with an arm and says shakily, "Sorry... Wolfwood... I'm so sorry..." A close-up panel of his mouth shows Wolfwood saying, "... Just so you know--" Expression unimpressed, he exclaims, "There's no way in hell I'm accepting that lousy apology! You drunkard!"
He stands up and seems to kick Vash, who's still on the ground and mostly out of sight. Wolfwood demands, "Why are you even sorry for something like that, huh?? I chose my own path. It was all my decision! How many times do I say it to get it stick in that thick head of yours? Stop. Blaming. Yourself. For the things. You've not done. Idiot! Stupid spikey hair!!"
Vash's face is cut off, but a tear in his eye can be seen as he weakly says, "... oof.. wood..." Wolfwood looks tired and sighs, "... Ha... Don't feel bad about me. Until when will you realise just how much you've done for us? You've done more than enough for me, Needle Noggin."
The perspective zooms out to focus on the sky and two moons, including the fifth moon. Wolfwood's wings and the Punisher can just be seen at the bottom. Wolfwood says, "And you're brave, to go against what you've been taught your whole life. You're not a coward. You faced them until the end. So don't sell yourself short like that next time, okay?" We see Vash's face, smiling with tears in his closed eyes. Wolfwood concludes: "I'll get mad."
Wolfwood narrates, "—He passed out right after for the whole night on the cold ground. I realised how little I could help in the situation." He tries to drape his coat over Vash, sweating, and wonders, "Wouldn't it just pass through ...?"
Time passes, and Vash gets up with a sneeze and rubs his eyes. Wolfwood watches him with his eyebrows raised, and Vash laughs quietly and a bit nervously. Wolfwood narrates, "As if he'd heard my voice, a burden seems to be lifted off his shoulder when he woke up. That, or maybe he'd forgotten what happened last night. He was quick to take his leave right after.
"And so, Vash the Stampede went on a journey with a promise." Vash waves goodbye, turning to leave with his bag in hand. "I'll be sure to bring back more stuff next time!! See you later!" Wolfwood concludes, "While I watch him from afar... again." Wolfwood sits below the Punisher and waves back, saying with bemusement, "Has he never heard the phrase 'do not disturb the death?' He really throws me off..." The title is named, and it says "/ END." End ID]
[link to Image ID reblog post!]
#''if you can't go to see the world I'll bring the world to you instead'' post trimax vash who often comes back to ww bringing things he foun#and it piles up. alot.#i have up to 8 chp of these tho idt i can draw them all haha#vash the stampede#nicholas d wolfwood#trigun#trigun maximum#trimax spoilers#trigun maximum spoilers#vashwood#centric#/p
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I LOVE your Sakura AU, thank you so much for making it 🥹
Even though her ending is supposed to be “good”, I always thought that canon didn’t do her justice and threw any character development she had out of the window so she can be with Sasuke
I SO wanted her to finally move on and just let go
And I don’t have anything against Sasusaku
But I think it’d be much more beautiful if Sakura long let go of her feelings by the time Sasuke came to his senses and they developed their relationship TOGETHER from the START
And, once again, your work is AMAZING and I can’t wait for next pieces ❤️
Btw, can I ask a question?) Will we see Naruto’s and Sasuke’s reaction to her condition (maybe flashback to before she left the village?), if not, can you please tell me a bit about it? I can’t imagine them to ignore her after the incident, especially considering that they are at fault as usual
Thank you so much for the kind words! I've also never been a fan of how Sakura ended up. I have no beef with SasuSaku, but my biggest issue was that we never saw Sasuke try to make up/connect with Sakura in the same way we saw him do with Naruto, so their romance in Boruto just felt so...abrupt?
As for what happens to Sakura and her friends....
Sasuke was essentially put on probation/jailed, but broke out and defected to Otogakure as canon. This devastates Sakura, as she's both in deep denial about his contribution to her injuries and also the fact that she basically threw herself in there for nothing.
Kakashi shuts down completely. It's a nightmare replay of his own past, including the female team-mate being horrifically injured by the chidori. The guilt of everything is eating him alive so he basically withdraws into himself and uses her demotion to civilian status as a way to trick himself into thinking that if he just 'rips off the bandaid' and cut ties, she'll be able to move on more easily.
Naruto is the only person who is really able/willing to face justice. After the incident, he was basically also put on probation/awaiting trial but busted himself out to join Jiraya.
So for context, Sakura got clapped hard by the Rasengan/Chidori combo (hearing gone, nerve damage, eyes shot etc) and basically had to be put in a coma to try and stop the damage from getting worse, but unfortunately none of the medics in Konoha had the ability to reverse anything but the most superficial damage. So Naruto joined Jiraya in an attempt to find and bring the only person in the world who could give Sakura a sliver of hope.
I felt like this worked well with canon and the desperation to get Tsunade to be hokage and Naruto basically begged her on his hands and knees to help Sakura. Tsunade made it there in the nick of time managed to save everything but her eyes.
But Sakura's life has fallen apart, her career is over, her parents dead from Konoha Crush and her eyes gone...and Naruto is the most convenient and available person to take out all her rage on, so...while he deserves a lot of that rage..she is essentially punching down on who she perceives to be the cause of all her problems.
Lee is in the same boat as her, but while he tries very hard to be there for her, Sakura can't stand to be with him right now, as it just makes the reality of life hit that much worse- especially when she finds out there's a surgery that might give him a better chance than she'll ever have.
And Ino visits often at first, but then it's awkward...and painful as the weeks go by. They have lunch and gossip but at some point, there's not much a shinobi and civilian have in common, especially after the shortage of manpower post Konoha-crush has Ino entrenched in the shinobi life more than ever before.
I hope this answered some stuff! Thank you so much for the questions and the interest! I love Sakura and I just wanna give her the development and power she deserves!!
#naruto#naruto au#sakura#haruno sakura#ino#kakashi#tsunade#rock lee#sasuke#sakura pov: ur life is falling apart#no hating on sakura here#yes she's cruel#but she's also TWELVE and has NO real support#and honestly naruto is part of the problem rn
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𝘋𝘰 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘙𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘛𝘪𝘮𝘦 ? (Teaser)
𖦹 pairing: yoon jeonghan x reader
𖦹 wordcount: 15k+ (this teaser: 643 words)
𖦹 genre: enemies to roommates to lovers, slowburn, angst, fluff, smut (mdni 18+) (none in this teaser though)
𖦹 summary: your first day at your new university you spill coffee on an unsympathetic asshole. unfortunately for you that unsympathetic asshole becomes your roommate.
𖦹 in other words: you and jeonghan get off on the wrong foot, but through forced proximity and a snow day in due to a storm, you learn that your roommate is more than just the campus playboy.
𖦹 tags: non-idol!au, uni!au, e2l!jeonghanxreader, campusplayboy!jeonghan, roommate!jeonghan, afab!reader, bestfriend!booseoksoon, joshua is jeonghan's accomplice in everything, reader is the only one who knows how to cook, jeonghan is king of the sassy man apocolypse. (more will be added in the full fic)
𖦹 smut tags/warnings will be added in the full post.
𖦹 taglist form. you can also comment or send an ask but the form is preffered! :) thank u
𖦹 note: this jeonghan fic idea has been cooking in my head for a longgggg while now. idk when it'll be out but cosidering i'll have more down time, i'd say by the end of this month? but it really depends so sorry in advance if i take longer than that lol. i've also decided to make a google form for anyone who wants to be added to the tag list (you must be 18+ though, and i will check if your age is in your bio), as well as a permanent one if you'd like! anyways see you all soon! mwah - anna.
Read More Here.
You hate Yoon Jeonghan. The moment you met him, you hated him.
It had taken you about ten seconds to get on his bad side. All it took was a cup of iced coffee and a random bump in the sidewalk. In the blink of an eye, your freshly made latte had become a wet coffee-coloured stain on Jeonghan’s bright white shirt. Mortified, you apologized profusely, not knowing what else to do.
Everything happened so fast, that you didn’t even realize you were tripping and then spilling your drink onto him.
“What the fuck is your problem?” He spits at you, his eyes cold as ice.
Your cheeks heat up fast, and you’re stuttering your words all over the place. To say the least, you felt bad, you haven’t even been here for more than 24 hours and you were already fucking up badly. Just a few hours ago you were ready to start fresh, starting a new semester at the University you transferred to from your hometown.
Looking back up at the man who was currently staring you down, you begin to take napkins out of your bag to wipe his shirt. A yelp escapes your lips once you feel him slap your hand away from his chest.
“I said what the fuck is your problem?” He repeats himself, the fire in his eyes flaming against the light of the afternoon sun.
“I’m sorry, I tripped and-” You begin to explain yourself but he cuts you off, not wanting to hear your sorry excuse of an explanation.
“I don’t care that you tripped, you spilt your drink on me.” He seethes, clenching his jaw as he talks.
Now you’re equally as pissed as him, you stare at him for a second trying to see if he’s joking because he couldn’t be serious right now. Quickly, you realize that he is indeed not joking, if anything he’s more serious than you were when you told your parents you were moving away.
“I’m sorry I spilt my drink but it was an honest mistake. It’s a stain, you can wash your shirt.” You scoff at him, unbelievable, you thought. As you roll your eyes, you watch him get red in the face with anger.
Jeonghan is a lot more frustrated now that you’re giving him attitude, after the fact that you were the one to stain his clothes. His fists begin to ball at his sides, who does this girl think she is, he asks himself.
“You’ve got a lot of nerve. You can’t just talk to me that way.” It was his turn to scoff at you, this petty fight between the two of you not going anywhere.
You look him up and down, you could take him in a fight if it came down to it, or at least that's what you like to tell yourself. His body is a lot on the slimmer side, his looks seem to be his only redeeming quality. Long-haired, with long eyelashes, he was a pretty boy, you’ll admit that much. Yet his personality is not in harmony with his looks, and you found it to be quite surprising. How can someone so good-looking be so spiteful?
“Too bad, I’ve already apologized and tried to make up for my actions. Didn’t Mommy tell you life isn’t always fair?” You mockingly pout up at him as he towers over you. Before Jeonghan could come up with a rebuttal, you walk past him, purposefully knocking your shoulder with his.
“Hey! I wasn’t done with you! You’ll regret this day!” He shouts at your figure as you walk away from the scene. As you walk away you pray to the gods that this is the last you’ll see of the long-haired pretty boy.
Little did you know, your prayers had done the opposite of what you asked.
© wonustars
𝄒𓏲࣪ . ⩇⩇ 𝄒 𖥻 a/n: my bad all, ik it's another uni au please dont hate me T-T. i promise i'll do something different next time BUTTTT i'm literally only about 1.5k words in but i'm already excited to share it with you all! please look forward to it :)))
#jeonghan#seventeen fanfic#seventeen smut#jeonghan fic#jeonghan smut#jeonghan x reader#jeonghan x y/n#seventeen x reader#seventeen fic#jeonghan fanfic#jeonghan angst#jeonghan fluff#seventeen fluff#seventeen angst#do you remember the time?#wonustars ✧ ﾟ. {fics: do you remember the time}#wonustars ✧ ﾟ. {works}
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Chapter 5
Yandere Teacher Nanami x Student Reader
Warning: Abuse, (force) smut. Abduction, violence, rough play, toxic behavior, age gap, everything from all above. Mainly from his point of view...somewhat... modern au- ish idk. College teacher x student.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 6
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"Mr. Nanami?" A man in a suit knocked on his classroom door. Nanami was grading some paperwork before his next class. He turned to the side and saw the man alongside some police officers." I hope we're not interrupting you? I'm detective Aki, this is officer Yamada and officer Fujikawa. We want to ask questions about one of your students, (Y/N)."
"Sir." Nanami stood as the man and two police officers entered, closing the door. Nanami knew this day would come. How could he not know? "Of course. Miss (Y/n) hasn't attended my classes for the past month.
"That's why we're here. Her friend had filed a missing person's report on her and we just want to know if you may know anything regarding her disappearance." The detective said.
"The last time I saw her, was when she was sitting on one of the campus benches. I asked her if everything was alright and she told me she was waiting for her ride." He explained. " She seemed a little down and mentioned something about an ex-boyfriend. I've dealt with many of my students who were dealing with hard breakups so I didn't think too much of it."
"Ex-boyfriend?" The detective said.
"Yes. I don't know his name it was never said, but she did mention an ex-boyfriend and by the look of it, it's not something she seemed happy about." Nanami looked at the detective as he jotted down what he was saying.
"Was she acting strange while attending your classes before her disappearance? Did she seem a little down?" Aki asked.
"No. She was a normal student. In fact, she was my best student. Although she had trouble with one assignment, she would stay after her classes for help. Other than that, she was fine. However, I am a teacher with many students, so I might've not pay too much attention to her because of the others, who might be in the same position as her. College is college. Nothing changes." Nanami fixed his glasses and sighed. "Her family must be worried sick if she hasn't shown up." Nanami asked, almost looking a bit sad.
Aki raised his eyebrow. "Have you noticed her disappearance?"
"I did at first. She never missed a class ever. Then again. I have many students who don't bother showing up for months."
"Why is that?" He asked.
"They want to give up. Math is too hard. Struggling with mental illness. I've been working here for ten years, I've seen at all." Nanami sighed, looking down at his papers. "Sadly, no matter what I do, I can't always fix their problems when it's out of my reach. I should've asked Miss. (Y/N), about what was bothering her that day. That was my mistake."
Aki looked at Nanami, who still kept a normal composer. "So her disappearance wasn't too strange for you?"
"Like I said, at first it did. Then again, it's not the first time a student stopped showing up here. I guess I was wrong about that." Nanami raised his eyebrows. "Has anyone seen her since then?" He asked so concerned.
"No, we're working on a timeline on who might've. So far, you're the last person who has seen her. However, no one mentioned an ex-boyfriend before." Aki tapped his little notepad with his pen.
"Oh. it makes sense now." Nanami scratched his head.
"What makes sense?" Aki questioned.
"When she mentioned the ex-boyfriend, it went like this." He hummed, " 'My ex-boyfriend is a jerk who only thinks about himself. We were hardly boyfriend and girlfriend since we dated for three months.' It was confusing to me. I don't know what these young adults think now about relationships; now there is a thing called situationship' or whatever it's called. Every day, I hear students talk about their 'situationship'—are they boyfriend and girlfriend? I don't know what kids are up to these days." He explained. "I was puzzled because, aren't boyfriend and girlfriend, boyfriend and girlfriend? Now, I realize, it must've been one of those situations where you're just with a guy, just cause, with no title. Now it makes sense why it's called situationship'. Either way, it can still break someone's heart. Maybe that's why no one mentioned him; it didn't seem like what they saw was a relationship. Nonetheless, for Miss (Y/n), it must've been more than that, but it was overlooked."
"Did she mention anything about this ex-boyfriend or lover she had?" The detective asked, jotting down as much information as he got.
"No. She was on her phone during the little conversation we had so it was cut short. I swear those kids are always on their phones like they're addicted to them." Nanami picked up his papers and hit them on the desk countertop to straighten them in place. He checked his watch and saw the time. "My next class is about to start. Is there anything I can help with?"
The detective closed his notepad, "No that'll be all for today. Thank you, Mr. Nanami." He shook his hand and headed his way out alongside the two officers.
"Oh! Please tell (Y/N)'s family my condolences. She's one of my students here. Hope she's found soon." Nanami said.
The detective gave him a sympathetic smile, "Sadly, her parents died recently, in a car accident. I'll tell her friend though, she's worried sick about her."
Nanami went back to teaching his class. He went on to be a normal regular teacher. He saw the detective and two officers roaming around, talking to other students and teachers. He kept his usual face and went on with his day. He would hear his colleagues about you, how they're saddened that you just vanished.
Some came up and spoke to Nanami since you were in his class, and he gave them the same type of response he gave to Detective Aki. When he got into his car, he drove off.
He went on to run some errands really quickly and got some snacks and a beverage. He went and decided to stop by a public library and started to use the public computers and continued to do some paperwork and make new homework and test assignments.
He looked at the time got up from his chair, logged off, and walked away from the library building. He got back in his car and drove off to a food place.
He ordered a meal for himself and ate in his car while grading more of his paperwork. When the sun was completely gone, he went to a copy, and fax machine place that was open 24 hours and started to make multiple copies before heading his way home near midnight.
He did this routine for 3 weeks. 3 whole weeks. 3 torture weeks for him.
The day he saw a man getting arrested on the college campus with Detective Aki and the two officers, his 3 whole weeks ended.
He got out of work, he went on to the library, and used the computer for some time. He went to an electronic store and bought himself a new computer. He got into his car and drove home.
He opened the door that was inside the garage and placed the store bag on the kitchen counter.
He walked upstairs and opened the bedroom door. "Sorry, I'm late. Work has been chaotic." He stared at you with your eyes glossy and the rag on your mouth. Your hands were still tied up to the headboard. He went towards and touched the rag and pulled it out. " Sorry about this, sweetheart. It was just a precaution. On the good news, they arrested that ex-boyfriend of yours. It wasn't good for him when they saw all the texts he had 'sent' you. Too bad they found your phone on his property."
"P-please...don't hurt me...Please don't hurt me." You cried to him.
He grabbed your cheeks with his hand, "Who's your best friend?" When you didn't answer him, he grabbed onto you harder, "Answer me!"
"E-Emi." You told him.
"Well, that Emi bitch made those 3 weeks a living fucking hell for me and I'm not too happy about that, sweetheart." He sighed and let you go. "At first I thought your family was gonna be in my way, but it turns out is Emi. Tell me, what should I do?"
You shook your head.
"You're right. It'll be too suspicious." He got on the bed and laid next to you. "I'm just happy to be with you." He slid his hand down to your body and stopped once it reached your stomach. "It must've been lonely here for you. Tell me something else, do you want some company while I'm gone?"
You felt your body shiver with his touch and talk. "N-no."
"No? You're fine here without me? Because if you ever feel alone, I can change that." He rubbed your stomach.
"I'm fine. I-I'm okay." You pulled your knees up to your chest feeling chills going through your body.
"I love you, I hope you know that." He said, smiling at you. He pulled you closer to him, wrapping his arms around your body. "I'm doing this all for you."
He kissed your cheek, "This is all for love."
SPOILERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
(Sorry for the long wait! R.I.P to Nanami 😩)
#nanami jjk#kento nanami#nanami smut#yandere nanami#yandere jjk#yandere#nanami kento#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk#jjk nanami#jjk kento#jujutsu nanami#yandere jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen nanami#nanami x reader#kento smut#kento x reader#nanami#kento#jujustu kaisen#yandere nanami x reader#nanami x y/n#nanami x you#kento x y/n#kento x you#jjk nanami kento#kento nanami x you#kento nanami x reader#kento nanami x y/n
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Oh Baby, You - svt smau
The birth of your son three years ago was what caused your breakup with Wonwoo, your longtime (and at that point, long distance) partner. Now, you're getting concerned that Orion is starting to look a lot like his dad, but that's not your only problem. Wonwoo is back… and he's living across the hall.
Genres: smau, romance, drama, comedy, angst, single parent au
Pairing: jeon wonwoo x afab they/she reader x mystery member(s)
Warnings: coarse language, conversations about sex, mentions of pregnancy, mama/mom/mother is used to refer to reader's parental status sometimes, infidelity, light alcoholism, miscommunication as a plot device, some of the teenies are not so nice at times, slut shaming, angst, everything is unrealistically dramatic because this is basically a kdrama in text/twitter form. warnings may be updated as they come, but I will label chapters properly if it's anything major
Note: unfortunately, I did have to make the mc for this series have female reproductive organs because, well... that's the plot. I couldn't find a good way around it :( if anyone reading this is discouraged, please know that pretty much every other fic I've ever posted is gender neutral. So, if you think you might've liked this smau, please check out my masterlist! hopefully there will be something you like there :) ALSO! if anyone makes fun of Orion's name just know that it's the name of a precious baby cousin of mine and if you bully smau Orion you are bullying irl Orion!! do not touch him!!!
(new!) Updates will post when I have the time and motivation
The taglist is full! Leave a comment under the post linked here if you're not on the main taglist to be notified when Oh Baby, You is completed.
Profiles I: Orion's Prettyboy(gn) Posse
Profiles II: Wonwoo's Famous Friend and the Other Guys
Profiles III: Gyu and the Rise of Capitalism
1. Everybody Loves Vernon
2. Tens Among Tens
3. Grown Ass Men
4. I Hate This FUcking Family
5. The Ones Keeping Secrets
6. A LITTLE Curious
7. You Go Girl Get His Ass
8. The Calm
9. The Storm
10. It's Been a While
11. Fucked Up Coincidences
12. Not... a BAD Guy
13. Still So Affected
14. Just My Type
15. Nothing to Hide
16. Fists Up
17. Act Natural
18. Girl, They Blocked You
19. Plot Relevance
20. Actually it is a Date
21. It's All Pretty Confusing
22. Scripted
23. All it Takes is a Smile
24. Yoon Jeonghan is Watching
25. Completely Surrounded
26. No Such Thing
27. What Does That Mean
28. A Name I've Heard Recently
29. Can't Risk It
30. Errand Day
31. One Day at a Time
32. Confrontation
33. Not Looking to be a Parent Any Time Soon
34. What if I
35. For This Little Guy
36. Get Blocked
37. I'll Take Care of You
38. Messed Up, Stupid, and Jaded
39. You Fucked Up
40. That's For You to Figure Out
41. Need to Try Something
42. Recovery Mission?
43. Your Everything
44. You're Cute When You're Like This
45. Not Sponsored
46. This is Nothing
47. Promise? Promise
48. Hhrk
49. A Busy Afternoon
50. Cherry
51. Don't Freak Out
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OBY Ask the Characters Game
#seventeen smau#jeon wonwoo smau#seventeen social media au#svt smau#svt social media au#seventeen scenarios#seventeen imagines#seventeen x reader#jeon wonwoo x reader#jeon wonwoo scenarios#jeon wonwoo imagines#wonwoo x reader#wonwoo scenarios#wonwoo imagines#svt scenarios#svt imagines#svt x reader#kpop scenarios#kpop imagines#wonwoo smau#wonwoo social media au#jeon wonwoo social media au
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Recently I've been seeing a lot of Sun Wukong and reader / OC with baby monkeys stuff, and I am just living for it. ( @journey-to-the-au's #Fruit Troup and @semisolidmind's #Royal Children especially) Something about baby monkeys rattled around in my little brain long enough that I had to bang out this drabble. Its my first ever x reader story, and its just slightly nsfw so beware!
Cuddle Break
Synopsis: Your reaction to snuggling a baby monkey has quite an effect on Sun Wukong
Warning / Triggers: Slight NSFW - mention of an erection and implied adult situations
For several days now the group had been traveling through a dense jungle. You had stopped for a break on the side of the road to eat some lunch and rest your weary feet. Although it was a little humid, it felt pleasantly cool beneath the shade of the jungle canopy. You would have liked to take a quick nap, but Tang was anxious as ever to get moving again.
“YN, would you mind finding Wukong?” the monk asked. He smiled apologetically, as if he knew he was sending you into the lion’s den.
Almost since the day you’d joined the group, the demon monkey had begun teasing and flirting with you. You did your best to laugh off his advances, thinking he was probably just messing with you, but lately Wukong was getting so provocative that Tang was forced to use the headache spell a few times just to get him to give you some space. You were starting to consider that maybe Wukong really was into you, which wouldn’t have been a problem if you didn’t find him so damn attractive too!
As usual Wukong had gone off on his own to scout out the surroundings as soon as the group had settled down. Normally Pigsy would have been asked to go find the monkey, but he had eaten so much lunch that he’d zonked out hard enough that even Sandy was struggling to wake him up. There was nothing to be done about it, so you set off in the direction you had seen Wukong go earlier, hoping he hadn’t gone too far.
It wasn’t much trouble to find a little footpath that meandered through the jungle underbrush. You tracked it for a while, occasionally calling out the demon monkey’s name. Eventually you came to a wide, slow running creek, and trusting the intuition that had served you so well on the journey so far decided to follow it upstream. It wasn’t too long before you caught a familiar chirping, chattering sound. You had heard Wukong occasionally making those noises, but this time they sounded surprisingly soft.
“Wukong!” you called as you got closer, “Tang wants to get going…!”
It wasn’t long before you spotted him and understood why the noises were so unusually gentle.
Sun Wukong was perched on a thick branch hanging low over the creek, surrounded by a troop of infant monkeys. It was the little ones that were chirping and giggling as they climbed on him like a living jungle gym. He seemed to be enjoying it, indulging the little ones with the softest smile you had ever seen on his face. And the babies were so cute! Little fluffy beans with their little tails and itty-bitty noses!
“❤️Oooh my gooooosh!!❤️❤️” You gushed before you could stop yourself.
The Monkey King and his tiny subjects looked at you in surprise, only just noticing your presence. The babies looked a little nervous, but Wukong’s grin only got bigger as you approached. You were glad to see that the little ones trusted Wukong enough that they didn’t run away, even when you pulled yourself up on the branch to sit beside him.
“They’re so adorable, Wukong! Do… Do you think I could hold one?”
Wukong had never seen you so enamored before, it was adorable! “Sure,” he chuckled, “Just be careful. They got a strong grip.” He lifted one of the little ones off his knee, making reassuring noises as he handed him over to your waiting arms.
The baby was clearly a bit frightened of you, staring at your face with wide, darting eyes. “It’s okay sweetie,” you cooed to reassure him, stroking his head and back. “Don’t be scared.” To your delight the infant started to purr, and snuggled against you as you cradled him against your chest. You were so besotted with affection for the little guy that you didn’t even notice the intense way Wukong was staring at you.
It wasn’t until he’d handed the child over that Wukong realized the little one had fur that was remarkably like the color of your hair. Watching you snuggle and coo at the infant made him think of you doing the same with his offspring. Just imagining you getting you pregnant with his heirs drove him wild. If it weren’t for the children still clinging to him, he would have pounced on you right there.
What was worse, he was a little jealous of the little one! What he wouldn’t give to have you hold him and stroke his fur like that! That look of sweet and tender adoration in your eyes should have been for him!
Oblivious to the immortal demon’s internal struggle (and the bulge in his pants) you continued to soothe the baby monkey in your arms. The little guy was practically melting as you pet his soft fur. Then two more of the little ones abandoned Wukong to crawl into your lap, eager for their turn at cuddles. You scooped them up happily, pressing kisses to their foreheads. “Aww! Mama’s sweet babies! ❤️”
Wukong grit his teeth to stifle a groan. The jolt of arousal that went through him was so violent his hand shot up and snapped the branch above him like a twig. The baby monkeys that were still sitting on him were startled enough to scatter further up the tree.
You gave him a puzzled look, holding the little ones in your lap a bit protectively. “Something wrong, Wukong?”
“I’m fine,” he answered, jumping down from the branch. He sounded a bit more terse than usual. Obviously he wasn’t fine, but he wasn’t going to tell you about it. “You said Master wanted to get going. We should head back now.”
You sighed, glancing down at the baby monkeys curled in your lap. They had been startled by Wukong crushing the branch but had hunkered down rather than run away. “Aw, can’t we stay just a little longer?”
"C'mon, YN, let's go." Wukong shook his head, shooing the little ones with a few soft hoots. They reluctantly crawled out of your lap, and you pouted as you let them go. Then he reached up, grabbing your waist to lift you down off the branch. You accepted the surprisingly chivalrous gesture, even putting your hands on his strong shoulders to steady yourself. But once your feet were on the ground, he didn’t let go.
You felt your face heat up with a blush as Wukong stepped into your space, his grip on your waist keeping you from escaping when his chest pressed flush against yours. You could feel his warm breath on your ear as he leaned in and growled suggestively, “You know, I could give you a few of your own if you wanted…”
“Wukong!!” The insufferable demon laughed as you pounded your fist on his chest in protest. But at least he let you step back, and you took a deep breath to try calming your racing heart. And racing hormones!
Against your better judgement, you let him carry you back to the others on his cloud. You tried to ignore his tail curled around your middle, somehow convincing yourself that it was only to keep you steady.
Wukong could tell under all that flustered embarrassment you were turned on. He could smell it on you, and it made him grin victoriously. It wouldn’t be long now before he’d finally have you. He might have even been able to convince you to let him have his way right there in the jungle, but he knew there wasn’t enough time to really enjoy himself. If the monk had sent you to look for him, it wouldn’t be long before he sent Pigsy or Sandy to look for you. He could wait a little longer. You were worth it flexing a little patience, and no matter what, in the end you’d be his.
And in the meantime, seeing you snuggle the baby monkeys gave him a sneaky idea for how to get some of that attention for himself…
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I noticed its been quite a while since you did anything with the healing spring AU (island AU), if you don't mind me asking, are you going to continue it or is it cancelled?
🌸No, it's not canceled I'm still trying to figure out how to explain this world in this Au a little better
I'm still new to Aus cuz I just keep creating more or at least just scenarios or head cannons(I've been making too many of those) and I get sidetracked a lot! I have SoooOooOoo many other new Doodles that don't involve the healing spring Au
I mean, I'm not even sure how to plan an Au properly. I know I have to make a story and follow it and a couple of times I thought why do I just try to make a fanfic (keyword try) explain it better( I REALLY suck at making fanfics).
I sometimes can't figure out how to keep an au going. I think that's the problem (and you know personal life stuff that junk to).
I mean I draw new everything's and I still have the healing spring AU Doodles that are kind of like notes to me, right now I'm trying to figure out how to make this AU deep and with angst and stuff I'm trying not to be too cutesy I'm trying to put these characters through hell, face their past and cry/hurt/awkwardness/ worry/ survive/ secrets/ mystery/ angst/ talking/ healing /bonding /pining, kind of thing I'm not sure how to make that happen
How do you put that in an Au? I sure as hell don't know! And the worst part about this is this is my favorite of all of my AUs too!!!
Sorry I don't want to make this too long I just want to figure out how you guys make these Aus and hurt these characters the right way what's your guys Secret I'm probably going to have to ask someone to help me make this AU a thing know brainstorm and all that
🌸Anyways I hope this answers your question
🌸Here's a little comic I made I just thought it was a funny scenario that would happen in the island😚✨
Wish me luck guys.... I'm going to need it😩
#monkie kid#lego monkie kid#lmk#sun wukong#six eared macaque#doodle#monkey king#macaque#ask#ask response#ask anonymous#anonymous#anon ask#healing spring AU#official name#shadowpeach
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TADC AU Theme Songs! Cause Why Not?
I'll be saying the AU, sending the link, and @ing the person who owns the AU as well as gives my reasonings for the theme song. I just think giving some love to AUs would be cool!
Carnival AU - Belonging to @sm-baby - Puppets Never Die
Why?: Honestly it's about two people working together to leave a harmful situation and everyone's trying to stop them- it's legit THE plot of this AU. That, plus the voices fit the characters
Freakshow AU - Belonging to @hootbon - Freak Show (PI3RCE)
Why?: I legit was listening to this at a grocery store and I was just thinking about this AU listening to it. Aside from the name, it feels like it's trying to lure Freakshow!Pomni into a false sense of security
Horror Circus AU - Belonging to @thc-au - HEAVEN SAYS (MM)
Why?: It has the energy of THC!Pomni taunting Caine alongside the other horror circus cast and I adore every moment of that energy. She HAS that mocking energy of "Lmao try to beat us YA CAN'T"
Circus of Hell AU - Belonging to @circus-of-hell - Uh Oh!
Why?: It's about making mistakes and calling out being a liar, and although I dunno a LOT about the AU cause I didn't make it, I do know that this seems to be the vibes from this AU so yeah why not?
Corruption AU - Belonging to @rabid-mercenary15 - Sleepwalk
Why?: The part of this song that goes 'then it becomes a problem' for some reason gives off SUCH 'the others corrupting' vibes, also it's almost like this is a way to narrate Zooble and Pomni surviving
Ragamaster AU - Belonging to @milezperprower - Happy Face
Why?: From the information that I know, this song is fucking PERFECT- specifically for Ragatha in this AU herself. Smile through the pain while being a bitchy girlboss as they say <333
Terrible Circus AU - Belonging to @obamerzslop - Shit
Why?: Although it's more of a comedic option, I feel like this song literally just fits the entire vibe of the AU- as if "POV you're in the terrible circus and you hate it here" kind of song- thus why it's here
That's all that ones I thought of! If I think of more, I shall update this! For now, have a nice day! And for those who own the AUs I mentioned, I REALLY HOPE I got the vibes down cause honestly I've been wanting to do this for a while and uhhhh yeah sorry for bothering you with this it's been in my head for days now and I wanted to get it out and into the world
Have a lovely day folks ^^
#the amazing digital circus#amazing digital circus#the digital circus#digital circus#tadc#au#tadc au#digital circus au#carnival au#freakshow au#thc au#circus of hell au#corruption au#ragamaster au#terrible circus au#theme songs#maybe#potential theme songs#if i got any of them even close to correct
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ᰔℊℯ𝓉𝓉𝒾𝓃 𝒾𝓉 𝓅ℴ𝓅𝓅𝒾𝓃' with GIYUU TOMIOKA @ the mechanic shop.
for my 1500+ ᰔ𝒻ℴ𝓁𝓁ℴ𝓌ℯ𝓇 ℯ𝓋ℯ𝓃𝓉. requested by @rheawolf.
ᰔfem reader. giyuu and reader are married. modern au.
ᰔcw: pwp, public sex, against the wall, exhibitionism?
ᰔdividers by lovely rhy @/hitobaby.
ᰔwc: 1.3k
#💗💗🍡°taglist: @enchantedforest-network @kakushino @punkgibsons @darkstarlight82 @bakugosbratx @chifuyuskoneko @honeybleed
Once again, you let a loud sigh escape between your lips, prompting Giyuu to look over at you.
"What is it?"
His sapphire blue eyes were like the ocean on a calm day as he gazed down at you.
The two of you were currently seated in some creaky, aluminum folding chairs while the mechanic tinkered underneath your family SUV.
"Giyuu, honey, we've been here for a while now. Are you sure that this guy knows what he's doing?"
At the mention, said man slid out from under your vehicle and swiped his forearm across his forehead, effectively smearing it with oil.
"So I think I've found the problem. You said you've had trouble with idling?"
The mechanic, whose nametag read "Hotaru" regarded both you and Giyuu with his eyebrows drawn together while crossing his veiny forearms across his chest.
You nodded,
"I was getting ready to go drop the kids off at school when I noticed that the engine would cut on, idle for a few moments, then shut off. I tried cleaning the valve, but the issue persisted."
Hotaru nodded, "I see. Well if that's the case, it could be a number of problems, then. I'm going to have to take another look."
Your eyes bulged,
"Huh?! Another look, but we've already been here for three hours?!"
Giyuu's eyes moved from you to the long-haired mechanic.
"Maybe we could come back tomorrow? It is getting a bit late." He reasoned, in a much calmer tone than yours.
"If you come back tomorrow, that'll put you at the end of the queue. I'm quite a busy man, you know."
"What!!? Why you-"
Before you could start going off on the man, Giyuu took hold of your hand into his and rubbed your knuckles gently to calm you down.
"It's fine, sweetheart. I texted Tsutako earlier to pick up the kids from school if we ended up running over time. It will be alright."
He moved his hand to your lower back and gently guided you back to the row of uncomfortable chairs.
----
"They could at least put a couch in here." You grouched. Giyuu chuckled softly.
"Needy thing, aren't you? We should be home soon; I doubt it'll take another three hours."
You whirled in your chair to face him, propping one leg up over the other.
"What if it does, though? I just might die."
He leaned forehead and brushed away a lock of your hair.
"Behave, yeah? We'll have the whole evening to ourselves since Tsutako has the kids."
The thought of a free night with your husband made something primal stir within your core. It also didn't help that he had on one of your favorite outfits right now.
Dark-washed jeans, simple black sneakers, a black t-shirt, and a blue and black plaid flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows revealing his tattooed forearms.
You wet your bottom lip with your tongue and settled your left hand onto his thigh. Your silver wedding band caught the pale-yellow overhead light, making it gleam.
"Something wrong, lily?" Giyuu asked, shifting his eyes to where your hand rested on his pants.
Your eyes moved from him to the mechanic, who was tinkering with something under the car and mumbling to himself.
"I don't know if I can wait until we get home..."
Seductively, you lowered your eyes before blinking at him long and slow. Your fingers began to rub circles into his thigh, making a soft sigh escape from his slightly parted lips.
"Right here? Right now?"
Giyuu questioned, immediately picking up your implication.
You nodded. "Please, Gi? I promise I'll be good."
He froze for a moment, his own eyes trailing over to the mechanic now.
The man was completely occupied by his task, him making little comments to himself about what he should try next; plus, his entire upper body was underneath the car.
Giyuu then looked past the waiting area and into a small hallway where he assumed there might be an office and a bathroom.
"Come on."
He grabbed your hand and you started cheering inside your head.
Just behind the wall leading into the hallway there was a little corner with a vending machine and water fountain.
Giyuu pushed you up against the wall next to the vending machine and started kissing your neck. You wrapped your arms around his upper back and tangled your fingers in the ends of his dark ponytail.
His own hands rested on your shoulders before moving down over your breasts, stomach, and into your pants.
Skillful, calculated fingers jerked them down your hips along with your panties. The knuckle of his left index finger slid up between your folds and collected a trail of your slick.
"Damn, you're this wet already? You really wanted this, huh..."
He pulled back to look at your widened, lust-blown eyes and pouty lips.
"Want you, Gi..."
Who was he to make you wait any longer?
He tugged your pants and panties the rest of the way off your legs and circled his arms around your lower back.
"Jump."
You did as he commanded and he held you against the wall with one arm circled around your back, his body pressing you into the cold, painted-bricks.
He used his other hand to pull his own pants and boxers down to rest underneath his balls, freeing his cock.
Lifting you higher up the wall, Giyuu angled his cock up so you could sink down on it. Immediately, a loud whine left your throat.
"Shh, you want him to hear you? Hmm, maybe you do..."
He then hooked his arms underneath your thighs, holding you with the crease of your knees in the crease of his elbows and spreading you open before beginning to bounce you along his thick, hard cock..
"Ahh, Gi!"
"Crying already? We just started, baby."
Your back pressed further against the bricks, running from his dick and nails digging into his shoulders.
Giyuu's thrusts had you sliding up and down the wall with nowhere to run.
He pressed his entire body weight on you and started fucking at a quicker pace, one knee slightly bent forward and almost touching the wall as he gave you swift, deep strokes.
At this point, you'd nearly forgotten that you were in a public place where anyone could walk in and see you, but you couldn't be arsed to really care with Giyuu filling you up so well.
You tried to hold onto him as best you could, hands moving from his shoulders and grabbing hold of his messy black hair in an attempt to ground yourself.
"Are you close? Talk." He stared at you with those deep blue eyes and hit you with another hard, deep thrust before pushing his face into your neck to lick and kiss it.
"Yes, Gi, I'm-!"
He felt your body shudder and decided to finish you off by pushing you up even higher against the wall and dropping you down on his cock, making you cum and squirt your release all over him.
----
Giyuu and you exited the bathroom and met the mechanic, Hotaru, in the hallway as you were heading back to the waiting area.
"I managed to fix the problem, so you should be all set to go."
He handed the bill to Giyuu, who took out his wallet to pay.
"Wait -wait a minute, let me see that?"
You gently took the piece of paper from your husband's fingers and scanned your e/c eyes over it.
"What is this: $300, for an inconvenience fee?!"
You crumpled the bill up in your hand and shook it at the mechanic's face.
"Yes, an inconvenience fee. For making me listen to the two of you fuck while I fixed your shitty car."
----
a/n:*I apologize if giyuu's ooc, haven't seen him in a while :< but i ended up posting this on his birthday!:D
get it poppin! 💄event ©bleach-your-panties 2024. do NOT steal, copy, repost, alter, or upload my works onto other sites. comments appreciated. reblogs always welcome.
#enchantedforestnetwork#get it poppin!💄event#giyuu tomioka#kny giyuu#giyuu x reader#giyuu tomioka x reader#giyuu smut#giyuu x reader smut#demon slayer giyuu#💗💗🍡°kny drabbles#💗💗🍡°kny masterlist#byp🌹
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✨ 15 gentlebeard fic recs ✨
i have spent the last month trawling the pages of ao3 for you, dear reader, to find the best ofmd fics. all the works on this list:
are longer-form (generally 40k+)
have no steddyhands (simply not my thing)
are generally, all around brilliant (well-written, had me kicking my feet and giggling, laughing, or crying)
are complete!
part 2 and part 3
A Heart Unsated by roughwinds
48k, explicit
"Stede Bonnet has just moved into Orange Crescent. There’s a house on the corner, opposite Stede’s own, with a garden full of flowers and a gleaming motorbike on the driveway. He’s forgotten to buy sugar.
Edward Teach has his morning disturbed by his new neighbour. Enamoured at first sight, he invites Stede round for a chat, and then another, and then another.
This is the story of them."
man i normally avoid fics with lots of alma and louis in them because its just not for me, but literally every second of the family bonding in this was so wholesome i was forced to change my entire mind.
all you left me was a pearl by @sightofsea
88k, mature
"1717. The Golden Age of Piracy. Stede Bonnet sets about wooing the love of his life through any means necessary.
Things do not go as planned."
every day i wish for a precise memory erasing potion to be invented so i can read this again for the first time. i would devour like 2000k more words of this if it was offered to me. brilliant.
forgive & forget by @fool-for-luv
44k, mature
"It hits him then, like a wave breaking on sand, loud as thunder when it crashes, then trickling away into little rivulets flowing back home, murmuring one word over and over and over. Ed.
The problem is, Stede doesn’t recall ever having met anyone named Ed."
so sweet and wonderful, and i wish there was more.
#gentlebeard is trending! by regional_catastrophe
41k, teen
"In which Stede accidentally convinces the pirating world that Gentlebeard (or Blackbonnet or Stedward; there's a poll) is canon, reunites his crew, and gets his boyfriend back."
hilarious & silly & great, but also the most compelling notes of any fic i've ever read. a proper learning experience.
if music be the food of love (then darling, you're a feast) by @fool-for-luv
107k, unrated
"“Hey, so, those two, right, they get together in the end?” Ed asks.
“I would protest spoiling it, but I think it's rather obvious, isn't it?” Stede says. His nose wrinkles as he smiles. “The tension is certainly there from the beginning. It just takes them a while to get there.”
“Good. Would have been a shit story otherwise.""
i love sassy stede and i love ed who is a grump and i love that they share one single braincell at any given time.
If You Were Mine to Keep by @mysterybees
162k, explicit
"Caught between the gallows and the end of an English sword, Ed accepts the Act of Grace: marry into the aristocracy, leave the English ships alone, and live to sail another day. But who in their right mind would ever agree to marry the mad devil pirate Blackbeard?"
Worth every second of tiredness I felt after pulling an all nighter to finish reading.
It's Only Right by hexuponye
53k, explicit
"A modern AU based on Imagine Me & You, in which Edward is a florist who does the flowers for Stede's wedding."
mary gets to be a little silly sometimes too as a treat.
pliocene by unfortunatelyobsessed
75k, mature
""man, it's just ocean for miles.” Ed motions out to the waves, where there is no sign of any sort of ship, their small dinghy pulled far up on the sand. “I told you when the clouds look like seagulls you take fuckin' cover. Goddamn ocean mutinied me.”"
william golding wishes he did something this brilliant and significant when he wrote Lord of the Flies. the best deserted island story.
quite a career shift by @stedesparasol
157k, explicit
"Stede's been posting book reviews on Youtube for two months now. It's taken him that long to finally get a comment, and the person it comes from is rather unexpected."
rip stede you would've LOVED booktube. furious i can never really watch his content.
Semaphore by komodobits
124k, explicit
"Talking things through as a crew is easier said than done, and honest communication has never really been Stede’s strong suit. When it comes to Ed, he is willing to try."
so good that i was properly and truly laughing and gasping and 'oh no-ing' out loud while i read it.
Such Joie de Vivre by @louciferish
94k, explicit
"Professional thief Edward Teach is tired of hole in the wall apartments, shitty pub food, and skipping town every few months to keep the cops off their tail. He’s well past the age he meant to flee the country and retire, and all he needs is One Last Job to set him up for life. When he hears that some rich bastard outside of town has just the sort of treasure he’d trade his good knee for, Ed sets out in disguise to get the lay of the land."
i (so so foolishly) avoided reading this for a while because i simply didn't think i was one for nanny aus. i was so, terribly wrong. don't make the same mistakes i did. showstopping. incredible stuff.
The Chains of Flowers are Fragile Things by @grandmastattoo
62k, explicit
"Stede can't see the shop he's inherited from his late father as anything other than a burden, another insult added to a life that's going nowhere fast. Then he meets the charismatic man who owns the tattoo studio next door, and Stede finds himself forced to consider the idea of home."
maybe i love tattoo shop owner ed fics, sue me. i love this stede and i love his embarrassing mistake tattoo.
The Love Experiment by karawrites
65k, mature
a married at first sight (aus) au. i didn't know i needed it until i read it.
Water/line by @the-gentleman-mermaid
60k, teen
"During a raid on a smuggler ship, Ed finds a merman named Stede locked in the hold."
So good that I would actually pay the author real person money to do a similar story but where Ed is the mermaid.
Where the Daylight Begins by @xoxoemynn
116k words, explicit
"Modern day AU slow burn featuring a pining Ed, a clueless Stede, found family, roughly a million animals, and a very magical house."
This one sort of gave me House on the Cerulean Sea vibes; it was so much fun and genuinely necessitates a proper use of the word whimsical.
#i will add more as i keep reading!!#pls send me recs too i have brainrot so all the media i consume has to be about pirates rn#hopefully there is at least one thing in here you haven't read before!#thanks for listening#if your fic is on this list know that i love you#our flag means death#ofmd#gentlebeard#gentlebeard fic recs#gentlebeard fanfic#blackbonnet#blackbonnet fic recs#blackbonnet fanfic
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I want you to know I respect your opinion and at the end of the day you can do whatever you want on your own page, which I love all the art you do. Your White Diamond AU is so remarkable I've added it to my own headcanon idea of Steven meeting his alternate selves.
With that said, why are you responding to posts or asks that talk about blatant shattering of other gems? Real SU fans don't immediately go "death to the enemy." Real SU fans understand that SU is about love, acceptance, second chances, and pacifism. I'll admit, there have been more idiots in the fandom since the show's end, but in my humble opinion, it's best to not give any of them attention, even if they are annoying.
Sorry if I sound rude, I just didn't get responding to that one ANONYMOUS comment.
It's not rude at all! And it's a great question! One I understand the reasoning of.
But I have my own reasoning for doing the things I do.
Mainly, I think that while ignoring SOME behaviors is definitely good.... talking about OTHER behaviors actively is the fastest and healthiest way to immunize the greater community against them.
Let me explain.
I've been in this fandom a long time now, and I agree with you - there's a solid possibility, a real chance that whoever sent that message is just a passing non-fan who decided to be weirdly edgy in my inbox. No big deal. It happens.
But in my experience, the SU fandom is.... wide and varied. There are people of all ages, and many opinions. It would be easier, of course, if the only 'true fans' were those who perfectly understood the show's themes. But to me, that veers dangerously close to a No True Scotsman type of thinking. The reality is that many different people watch SU. And while many of them do inherently agree with the message and understand the nuance, many more just watch the show because... they like the surface level graphics and cool fights and interesting worldbuilding. In fact, many of the show's fans are edgy teens (sorry edgy teens) who are in a life-stage where violence and being strong and cool and decisive in a morally black and white manner is the only way they can possibly imagine solving any problem. And... that's kinda the opposite of what SU teaches! But that's also the point. SU teaches those things on purpose.
And yeah, I can absolutely just ignore this part of the population. But ignoring a behavior does not actually make it go away 100% of the time. If a child in a supermarket comes up to you and starts smacking you with a wooden spoon from Aisle 4, then... sure... you can ignore them and see if their parent comes to get them, or they go away, especially if it's a very small child and they're not hurting you a lot.
But that's not the only option. You can ALSO opt to teach them - and any other spoon-wielding children watching - what COULD happen if they are crude or cruel to a stranger in public. Namely, you can snap 'stop it' and at the very least glare at that child. This is a lesson that will arguably teach them more about the interaction than a complete lack of reaction would.
Now, I'm not saying people who send me asks are all children and I'm doling out some moral lessons here. This is just a metaphor.
I'm simply a person in a social space (tumblr) who is driving my own blog. And while I DO ignore a very large part of cruel/rude asks I get (trust me, I do ignore many!) I sometimes also just post a reply to show what ELSE could happen if you say a borderline silly and arguably tonally inappropriate ask to a person. You could get replied to! In a sarcastic or snappy manner!
And maybe - just maybe - the other people reading my blog can learn something from the experience, and think 'ah, so doing it like THAT will maybe make people kinda annoyed, now I know and will not do that'.
I cannot deny that overall I agree with you, though. I don't think that these types of messages deserve attention on the regular. But I'd hope that my replies to these things are not really... regular. I ignore probably... 80% of these sort of things? I guess maybe it just feels like a lot less, since, well. The public ones are 100% of the ones you get to see!
#chekhov answers#it is a scientifically proven fact that people learn not only by experiencing things directly#but also by watching things happen to others#idk you could disagree with me#i try to space out the weird asks with the nicer ones and the lore ones#but no matter what i do no one is 100% satisfied#that's life i guess!
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My two cents on the whole situation
I think a lot of people in the Welcome Home fandom are misunderstanding the bigger picture here. It's resulting in a lot of people expressing disappointment and pointing fingers at people who aren't even the problem, and while the intentions mean well, it's causing the toxic environment Clown doesn't want.
In his post, which has now been privated, he talks about how overwhelming everything is. He even directly states that it's not just about boundaries, and while he has trouble putting it into words (and I will not put words in his mouth in the process either), Clown indicates that the sudden spotlight and attention is overwhelming him. And that's completely understandable - he's just one guy! Plus, he's been making stuff for Welcome Home for years, so it only makes sense to fluster over the sudden rush of attention in only a week. A week!!!
The reasons why boundaries come into play with all of this isn't just because his THREE rules were violated by garbage people. It's the fact that he had no time to establish boundaries beforehand, and it's stressful to suddenly have to think of EVERY facet of fandom culture and establish the dos and don'ts. But as Clown said, what's happened has happened, and all we can do is move on. Which leads me to my next point:
Clown explicitly said to not reprimand people on his behalf. He doesn't want the fandom to waste time and energy on people who have already crossed the line. What has happened, has happened. With that said, it's important to educate and point out when someone has crossed a boundary, but you shouldn't go through so much effort and anger over someone who clearly doesn't give a shit.
I've seen a lot of people who are making posts with a lot of "shame on you!"s and "You are all trash." I've also seen comments on harmless fanfics or art saying things like "You're the reason this fandom sucks." What awful things to say!
This fandom is probably one of the best fandoms I've been a part of. Why? Because a large majority, and I mean a LARGE majority, are respectful of Clown and want to do right by him. I've never seen a community band together so quickly to change their ways, apologize, spread the word, and evaluate the decisions they've made: not just in this fandom, but every fandom they've ever been a part of. That's HUGE. I've been on the internet for a very long time, and I don't think I've ever seen anything like that.
Yes, there are BAD eggs in this fandom, but there always is. What's important is that I haven't been seeing those bad eggs. Like, at all. I haven't seen a single explicit NSFW post, and I haven't seen a single piece of mass-produced merch. I've only heard about them through word-of-mouth, but I've never actually seen anything with my own eyes. Not that I doubt anyone, but I'm saying this to illustrate just how little bad eggs there are in the community. And this is a HUGE community.
In fact, I think we're so good, that we're starting to punish ourselves for making fandom content, and that is also awful. I want to reiterate what Clown's three major rules are:
Refrain from publicly posting NSFW content or content that wouldn't be safe for children to see/read.
Do not mass produce merch. Commissions and personal projects are fine, but they cannot be mass produced to be sold.
Do not impersonate and claim his art as yours. Give credit!! Don't trick people, and don't profit off of someone else's work!
And that's it! I've seen a lot of people taking down their fanfictions and art and AUs just because they're worried about Clown. That's super sweet and it warms my heart to hear that the community is so considerate, but remember, the three rules above are the only don'ts. Lots of people are scared of continuing to overwhelm him, and they're also scared that he might stop the project all together.
I assure you, he's not. Firstly, his fan works guideline is still pinned on his Tumblr blog!! If he wasn't sure of fanworks all together, he would have simply privated the post and write a new one with new rules. The rules have not changed. He loves to see fan interpretations, your AUs, your OCs, and your art! This is all explicitly stated! You can read it here incase you forgot -> https://www.tumblr.com/partycoffin/712519493403934720/apologies-if-this-has-already-been-asked-but-how?source=share
Secondly, he actually posted an update on his ko-fi that indicates that he's doing much better and that he's "elbow deep" into working on Welcome Home! I'm a member that gets to see all of his posts on ko-fi, and while I'm not going to show you the whole post (obviously), I will quote an important part you guys should see:
"You have all been so delightful to me (Setbacks happen with an abrupt shift in attention, I realize, so roll I will with this newfound experience!) and I was like 'Oh, let's post a tasty preview!'"
Clown acknowledges all of the goodwill and kindness the community has shown. He even states that he's learned from the experience and he's working hard on Welcome Home to see it through!
This was a very long two cents, so I'll end it here.
tl;dr, You guys are being too harsh on each other/yourselves, and that's the last thing Clown wants. He's doing better, Welcome Home is still being worked on, and you shouldn't have to shame yourself or others for posting perfectly kosher fandom content. There's only three major rules, three, so you shouldn't have to feel bad about what makes you happy.
#welcome home#wally darling#welcomeh#frank frankly#julie joyful#eddie dear#poppy partridge#howdy pillar#barnaby b beagle#sally starlet#i think those are all the tags lmao#erica speaks#anyway stop being mean!! y'all are fine just be your silly little selves#I should also note that this isn't to change your mind if you want to delete your stuff#This is just a reminder that your stuff is okay! As long as it doesn't break the three rules ofc
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☆ I have a secret to tell you ☆— Han Jisung
word count: 2.3k
paring: Jisung x afab!reader
genre: fluff
warnings: afab!reader, best friends to lovers, college!AU, Roommate!Minho, some cursing(Fuck), pet names (sweet girl), bestfriend!Jisung, comfort, if I left anything out tell me, kinda proof-read
Jisung and you are honestly quite inseparable. No matter what one of you was doing, the other was there to “support” the other, if that's what you'd call it. The two of you were always up to something, whether it was helping him with his papers or simply reminding him to eat, you were right there.
With that being said, today was no different. You were currently in his apartment, reading over the essay on his laptop while he was making some food when you were interrupted by his roommate Minho opening the front door. He looks at you, used to you being there, basically their third roommate at this point, before looking around.
“Where's Jisung?” Minho asks, dropping his bag by the couch before pulling out his own laptop and working on his own papers. You hum and point into the kitchen where your friend had disappeared to about 10 minutes ago, eyes never leaving the screen. This paper was due at midnight and it's currently six o’clock.
“Ji! Are you aware of how many typos you have in this fucking paper?” you yell towards his direction, just to hear him laughing, coming out of hiding with two bowls of ramyun. “That's why I'm having you look over it Ms. literature major.” he says while putting the food on the coffee table in front of you, greeting Minho finally.
“You know that's not what my major is about. And it's definitely not for being your auto correct.” you spat at him before fixing the last of the mistakes that you've found, sitting on the couch with an ungodly hump in your back while working, only for Minho to sigh and take Jisungs laptop from you. Minho, the anatomy major, hates when he sees how terrible both Jisungs and your posture is, to the point that when you're not here, he'll lecture Jisung on how to properly sit and keep his back straight.
You look up at him as he's giving the laptop back to Jisung, shaking his head when he sees the other male pouting. “Do your own work after you eat, I'm sure she's got something that she's supposed to be doing as well, that isn't your homework.” Minho says to him before handing the food that Jisung had brought you now that it's cooled. Minho looks over to you now, putting his hand in the middle of your back, tapping it softly, “sit up straight, you're too young for back problems.”
You do as he says, eating your food as you watch Jisung, unsure if he is looking over the things that you've changed in his paper but once he sighs with a smile, you know that he's happy that you're helping. Your face suddenly feels warm as you look down while continuing to eat your food. Was Minho right? Yes. But have you been putting off this project since last week even though it's due in a week? Also yes.
The look you give him seals your fate before he starts going through your bag, finding the book and syllabus for your paper. The look on his face is udder shock before looking at Jisung, who's too engulfed in his paper to notice the two of you. “Y/n..” is all he can say before you're cutting him off, shushing him and standing up to walk into a different room. Minho follows you when he realizes you want to talk to him in private.
Once out of earshot from Jisung, you run your hands through your hair, looking up at Minho. “Listen, I know what you're thinking, but I've still got a week on that project. His paper is due tonight. I'm just trying to help him.” You say, rubbing your temples, the dull feeling of a headache creeping up on you. “Y/n I get that but you need to do yours as well. If you keep doing this for him, he won't realize that you're struggling." Minho says and you know he's correct.
The conversation continues but in the living room, “Chan never said majoring in music theory would be so-” Jisung starts but suddenly realizes that you guys are gone. He quickly stands when he can still hear your voice in the apartment, walking towards it, wanting to make sure you're okay. He gets closer to the door, your voice becoming clear making his eyes widen when he hears you say “yeah because I'm totally gonna walk up to him one day and say ‘Han Jisung, I'm madly in love with you and want to spend the rest of my life with you’ Minho.”
“Why not?” He thinks to himself, but before he can let his thought wander any further, suddenly it sounds like you're walking towards the door that he's currently leaning against to listen to you talk. Panicked, he runs to the bathroom right beside the room that the two of you are in and slams it shut wanting you to think that he'd just made it back there and has heard nothing.
It's about ten o’clock now, Minho had put a movie on for himself to watch, Jisung had submitted his paper and you're currently reading through the book your professor had given you for this report. Your legs are curled under you, Jisung using what he could of them as a pillow and you're using his back as a table to take your notes when suddenly his arms wrap around the small of your waist, signaling that he's fallen asleep.
This is quite normal for the two of you but after finally vocalizing your feelings for the boy in your lap to the one across the room, you can't fight the blush that floods across your cheeks. Putting your book down, you slowly run your fingers through his currently bleached hair with dark brown roots, humming softly when you can feel him relaxing more against you.
You let him stay like this a little longer before slowly patting his shoulder. “Ji, you need to go get in your bed.” you say even though your words fall onto deaf ears. You shake him a little more when you hear Minho from across the room. “Call him that name you only use when you're sleepy. That sets a fire under him anytime you say it.” Minho says, voice just barely above a whisper, fighting a laugh when your cheeks turn red.
Minho points his finger to his mouth, tongue out and fake gags before switching his attention back to the movie. You look back down at Jisung, taking a deep breath before you whisper to him, “Sungie? Are you asleep?” This time, he's up and tense against your legs, realizing his arms are wrapped around you making him sit up quick enough that he almost falls off the couch.
His cheeks are fiery red when he rubs the back of his head, feeling your hand fall onto his bicep, he looks up at you quickly with a small smile. “Sungie, I think that it's time to go to bed.. Do you have any classes tomorrow?” you ask him only for him to shake his head, trying to wipe the sleepiness from his eyes.
“Are you staying over or do you have morning classes?” Jisung asks, not realizing the time until he looks down at his phone. It's 2am. His eyes suddenly show panic as he gets up quickly to let you get up. “Oh my god! It's so late! How come you didn't wake me up to walk you home so that you can get sleep?” His voice is full of panic, making the other man in the room cringe, doing another fake gag even though neither of you can see it.
“Easy Ji, I don't have any classes in the morning. Plus if I did, how could I wake sleeping beauty in my lap?” You say to him trying your best not to giggle, not knowing what's come over you, making you flirt with him so obviously like that but it gives you confidence. He looks over you quickly, before sitting down beside you again, leaning his head onto your shoulder, closing his eyes with a hum.
“So.. sleep over.. I can't remember the last time we cuddled.” He says to you, you'd both been so busy that you couldn't do the one thing that the two of you love to do the most, just cuddle. It never led to more, even if sometimes the both of you wished it had (unbeknownst to the other). You simply nod your head before pouting slightly. “I didn't bring anything to sleep in though..”
His eyes light up when the new option hits him. “You can.. Um.. you can sleep in one of my shirts if you want. Use my boxers as shorts since I know you hate basketball shorts..” He says as his face is bright red and staring at you. You stand up and nod before going to his room, changing into one of his black shirts and just a random grey pair of his boxers. Once you've stepped out to get him from the living room, you've met Minho in the hallway, looking at you laughing softly.
“Keep the noise to a minimum, yeah? I’ve got lunch with some friends tomorrow and I reeaaallllly don't wanna tell them I’m tired because I had to listen to my roommate fuck his best friend all night.” The words fall from his lips so sadistically it causes you to become a bundle of nerves.
Had Jisung said something like this to Minho? Does he normally do that type of thing? You push the thoughts away remembering that the only girl you'd seen Jisung with in the past couple of months was yourself. Pushing past Minho, you walk into the living room, finding Jisung on his phone waiting. “Sungie? Ready to go to bed?” you ask him.
His eyes meet the skin of your thighs first before looking up at the shirt that you'd picked out. Normally, he wears that shirt to the gym with Changbin and Chan but he'll now have to find a new one since you look much better than he does in it. The sleeves had been cut off, making it a muscle tee, the collar stretched from how often he pulls on it.
Finally his eyes meet yours but before he can blink, yours are glued to the floor while your hands play with the hem of the shirt you have on. Quickly he stands up, walking over and taps your chin to make you look up at him. “You look.. Really pretty in my clothes, sweet girl.'' After this he takes you back to his room.
Silence fills the room as you lay down in the bed while he gets undressed, putting on just some shorts before crawling into the bed next to you. He turns to face you as you do the same, smiling up at him as you feel the butterflies filling your stomach, heart racing when his hand comes to you and slips some of the hair out of your face and behind your ear. This has happened in your friendship so many times why does it feel so different this time?
You close your eyes just wanting to take in his warmth and the smell of him filling your nose, instinctively making you move closer to him. This causes him to get nervous about what he was going to say to you. Since he heard you talking to Minho, he's been thinking about what you said and it made him realize that he felt the same way that you did.
“I have a secret to tell you Y/n..” is all he can manage to say in a low whisper as he pulls you closer to him. You lay your head against his pillow, putting your hand on his shoulder. “And you can't tell anyone, okay?” His eyes fixed on your face when you simply nod, jestering a lock over your lips and throwing away the key. It makes him laugh before taking a deep breath. He looks at you to find the confidence in what he needs to say, pulling you closer to him. “I think I've fallen in love with you..” He says voice just barely above a whisper but it runs through you like a scream.
The man that you'd just said you were in love with hours ago is now telling you that he's in love with you? You quickly sit up looking over at him before climbing out of the bed with a pained look. “You listened to my conversation with Minho.. Don't pull this joke.. It's not funny, Jisung.” you say, hands desperately clinging to the hem of your shirt.
“But I'm not joking, I promise. Hearing you say it made me realize what this feeling I couldn't address was. Y/n, I'm in love with you and I really mean it.” He stands as soon as you do, walking over and taking your hands into his to help calm his own nerves and hopefully yours as well. You both stare at each other in the silence before you wrap your arms around his shoulders and hug him as tight as you can.
“I love you too, Sungie. I have for a while but I came to realize it when a month ago Minho said that you might find your someone soon if I didn't make a move..”
“As if I'd ever choose anyone over you, love.” he says, pulling the both of you back into the bed. You curl up into him, making him hum as he plays with your hair. “Never leave my side, yeah? I love you.”
You hear a bang on the wall making you both quickly look over before you can hear a familiar voice. “Y/n, I swear to god if you guys get any louder, I’m gonna lie to everyone tomorrow and tell them what I said to you earlier!”
You giggle when Jisung gives you a confused look, shaking your head before kissing his cheek. “Don't worry about that okay? I'll tell you about it tomorrow. For now, let's get some sleep before he outs us.” You say as you lay your head back down on his chest and fall asleep.
©️ dearestaussiechannie, all rights reserved.
Taglist: (to be added, comment or message me♡)
#dearestaussiechannie writes♡#han x you#han x female reader#han x y/n#han x reader#han jisung x you#jisung x y/n#han jisung x reader#skz x female reader#skz x you#skz x y/n#skz x reader#stray kids x y/n#stray kids x female reader#stray kids x you#stray kids x reader#han jisung imagines#han jisung fluff
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