No Comfort - Blog Posts
the night was dark, yet the moon left you with a perfect amount of light to be able to see in the darkness.
you wanted to grab some water before you headed to bed, but just as you were about to enter the kitchen you froze as you heard Zoro talking with Luffy.
“I just don’t understand why you’d choose her out of everyone from that island, we don’t need somebody like her.”
his words cut like daggers as they hit your ears. he really didn’t want you here?
“Don’t say that! She’s a nice girl and she cleans really good! She might not fight a lot but that doesn’t matter.”
Luffy argued with the other individual, hearing a scoff emit from his mouth at his captains words. You were torn between barging in or running away before the swordsman spoke yet again.
“Exactly, she doesn’t fight. If we get caught up in a serious battle she won’t be able to defend herself, and one of us is going to have to babysit her. It’ll be annoying, and we don’t even need cleaners we have Sanji.”
you didn’t want them to, but tears brimmed your eyes as his words hit you like a train. were you really that useless? he had to babysit you?
numerous thoughts swarmed your mind, Luffy still talking with him but you couldn’t hear him. you thought you had found a place where you meant something after years of being unwelcome and not having anybody, you thought you had a family- but it was clear there was yet another individual who underestimated you.
in your rage and frustrations, you walked away from the kitchen, the moon emitting a shine onto the world below as you leaned over the rail of the Sunny, covering your mouth to conceal your sobs as your heart cried for a sense of belonging, just for once.
pt 2 pt3
masterlist
Ok, you all know the book “The Outsiders” right? Right. And I’ve been having an angst scene in my head with Ghost and Soap with this one quote. “Johnny was the only thing Dally loved. And now Johnny was gone.”. Now what if Soap dies or something and Ghost goes fucking 𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭 and absolutely loses it. He just loses himself and nothing is helping. I welcome you all to this amazing writing prompt!
The air was crisp, cold, lifeless.
Lifeless like the body of Satoru Gojo your husband, love of your life, is just lying in the battlefield. People dragging him away to get his body to use it. Like a fucking weapon.
Seeing a few tears roll down his face as his cursed energy kept him alive for a spilt second. Just watching the life die out of him, wrecks you to your very core.
You didn't even notice the warm drips of water roll down your face, as yours and his students fight Sukuna in the distance.
You might get Megumi back, your basically son but you'll never get over the fact that you won't get your sweet 'Toru back.
What shook you to your knees was seeing a candy rapper on the ground. His favourite.
He must've eaten them before the battle. He loved his sweets. And oh god he loved you.
Hearing screams, you wanna help but you can't because you're frozen, Stuck to the ground as you see his blood stains on the wet dirt.
_
Should I do a full one to this? Such a cute fluff 😋 (sorry y'all)
Master lists
So...
I have been thinking of an angst/tragic Bowuigi AU, but I don't know how to write it.
Picture it: Bowuigi, but a Prince of Egypt crossover.
The Koopa Kingdom has already taken over the Mushroom Kingdom and everything else but Sarasaland when Mario and Luigi are separated
Mario arrives and meets Princess Peach while she is in hiding in Sarasaland.
Bowser meets Luigi after he falls in the Darklands and soon they start falling for each other.
Cue wholesome Mama Luigi and Junior moments
Mario and Peach find a way to tell Luigi about what's really going on with Bowser's rule. Luigi is in denial.
Luigi finds out on his own and runs away, also going to Sarasaland.
Bowser's heart is broken.
Luigi is told to convince Bowser to let the Mushroom Kingdom go or face serious consequences (Burning Bush: Stars/Grambi/Rosalina)
Bowser and Luigi reunite, enter Kamek and Kammy (Playing With The Big Boys)
Luigi fails to convince Bowser, Bowser feels betrayed. Double angst
Consequence #1: Water turns to Lava (Water to Blood Plague)
"The Plagues", but replace 'brother' with 'lover'
Bowser & Luigi reunite during darkness plague and have a heart to heart
They love each other still, always have and always will and Bowser is almost convinced.
Enter Junior. He missed his Mama and wants him back, but is also scared of what's happening.
Bowser : "I will not be dictated to. I will not be threatened. I am the morning and evening star. I am Bowser! King of the Koopas!"
Luigi : "Something else is coming, something much worse than anything before. Please, let go of your contempt for life before it destroys everything we hold dear. Think of our son!"
Bowser is hardheaded.
Luigi tells Mushroom Kingdom & others to put a sign on their doors (a star/mushroom/what have you)
Enter Plague 10: Death of the Firstborn
Plague takes every firstborn child in the Koopa Kingdom
Cut to Koopa Castle as one last soul is taken.
The sounds of parents screaming in grief echo through the smoke-filled air.
Out of all the weepings and wailings in the Koopa Kingdom, Bowser and Luigi's are the loudest and most heart wrenching.
Bowser tells Luigi that Mushroom Kingdom and all other kingdoms he's enslaved are free while hunched over their son's dead body.
Luigi: *reaches out hand*
Bowser: *flinches away* "Leave me!"
Luigi leaves, Bowser silently cries as he watches him go.
Luigi starts bawling once more when he gets outside.
Has to keep it in to tell Mario and friends that Bowser is no longer in control of their kingdoms anymore.
Everyone is celebrating, but Luigi silently mourns
If any of you take this idea, please, PLEASE tag me!
@bywonki I'm sorry babes! I promise, I'll write fluff for him some time!
Resplendent
word count: 1220
Pairing: Neteyam Sully x Female! Metkayina! Na'vi Reader Tags/warnings: Fluff, angst, bittersweet, established relationship, adult reader, adult Neteyam, no smut Summary: Neteyam quietly watches you from the shore as you perform a ritual dance in the water, to the utter delight of your daughters.
Author's Note: Set some time after the big battle. Also moved those events further ahead. You and Neteyam are mated and have children before the RDA attacks the reef. Got inspired by the song~
Sa’nu - mum, mommy Tahni - bioluminescent freckle
Close your eyes.
Deep breathes.
Remember the moves.
Remember the words...
Your heart thrums in your chest almost painfully. You take a deep, slow, calming breath; placing a hand over your heart.
“Sa’nu? Are you okay?”
You open your eyes, looking down to meet the gaze of your youngest daughter. The cool water of the sea comes up to her neck. Sweet thing. You told her, she and her sister could watch you from the shoreline. But they were persistent to be as close to you as possible. The water barely reaches your hips.
You offer a soft smile, reaching down and affectionately stroking her hair.
“I’m okay…Don’t worry my little star. Mommy’s just nervous.” The 5-year-old beams up at you with a toothy grin. Your 6-year-old beside her pats you on the arm.
“You practiced aaaaall the time! You got this.” She offers you her own encouraging smile. You give her an appreciative nod before facing the shoreline once more. You return your face to neutrality, closing your eyes once again.
You hear the disturbance of the water as your daughters move a bit to the side to give you more space to move.
With one final calming breath, you open your mouth and begin the song cord of your family.
---
Neteyam stands under the shade of a nearby tree on the shoreline. His arms are crossed as he watches the three of you.
The evening breeze carries your voice to him. He stands up straight when the sound hits his ears.
When you sing, it reminds him of the melody of birdsong in spring. No matter how many years may pass between you two, every time he hears you play the instrument of your heart, he feels like he could fall in love with you all over again.
He takes in your form as you start swaying in the water, admiring you from top to bottom.
Your hair, thick and long, reaching all the way down to your knees; you and your sisters spent what must have been hours, braiding it into the intricate patterns now adorning your head.
Even from this distance, he can still make out the faint markings of the tattoos framing your face. Though today you also have a thin line of white painting the centre of your face. You could have mud smeared all over and he would still find you to be the most beautiful woman; you have him convinced you are blessed by Eywa herself.
You arms move slow and with purpose through the air; attuned with the words as they fall from your lips.
Your soft lips.
How he wishes he could kiss you right now.
You dip down, submerging your arms into the water. In one fluid motion, you rise back up to your feet, the motion you perform with your hands and arms bring water up with you as you rose. Your arms are stretched out to your sides as you pirouette.
Neteyam’s heart skips a beat as he watches you, and it’s as if time itself slows, just so he can drink in the beauty of your very being.
With your back to eclipse, your front is cast in shadow.
The water falls around you in a shimmering curtain of rain. The last light of eclipse hits the smooth stones woven into the fabric on your chest; causing a cascade of colours to dance across your skin. And when the sun disappears, your tahni come to life like the brilliance of dawn.
It’s one of his most favourite parts of your body. Though you had the scattered stars as did all Na’vi, for reasons he attests only to being blessed by Eywa, you have thin bioluminescent swirls weaving itself around your arms, chest, and all down your legs. To him it’s like a faint galaxy glittering in the night.
He recalls fondly the memory of him knowing each and every star on your body intimately.
And in the fading light of the day do you shine before him. Resplendent as you are in the day, so too will you dazzle the world around you in the darkness of the approaching night.
His heart throbs something fierce when you open your eyes after dipping into the water once more. Even behind the curtain of water, or the netting of the fabric draped over your head, your eyes glow with a fierceness he knows all to well. It pierces his very soul, a warmth sweeping over him.
He drinks you in more as you bend your form this way and that. He wishes he knew the intricacies of your dance; understood what each fluid motion meant, the significance of each swish of your tail, or the ways you angle your hands and bend your fingers.
You close your eyes as you near the end of the cord song.
As you perform another twirl, you playfully swat the water with your thick tail, splashing your daughters.
Their uncontrollable gigging brings a smile to your face. You open your eyes as you continue to dance, giving them a loving look. They’re splashing each other with reckless abandon as they try to imitate your moves. You can’t help the unrestrained laughter their antics bring you.
Neteyam laughs quietly to himself as he watches his girls playfully flay about in the water. Every day since their birth he’s given thanks to both you and the Great Mother for blessing him with such miracles. He hadn’t thought it was possible to love something as much as he loved you.
He feels a stray tear fall down his cheek. But he doesn’t move to wipe it away. Instead he continues to smile as he watches your song and dance coming to its conclusion.
You turn to face the horizon, and he’s gaze drifts to his girls.
They’re singing something he can’t quite make out, but he loves the sound nonetheless.
And when their eyes meet his, finally noticing his presence, they wave at him wildly, giggling all over again.
His smile grows wider, and he offers them a small wave back.
---
One final pose, and you hold the final note of your song, eyes still closed. You hold that note until your lungs and throat burn.
You hear the excited cheers of your daughters as they shower you with praise. Your breathing is laboured as your heart pounds in your chest, but you offer them a bow and a small smile of gratitude.
You turn yourself to the horizon before you finally open your eyes. The ritual dance has come to and end.
You rub the cool ocean water on your cheeks, in your neck, and down your arms; all in an effort to cool you down from your laborious activity. You breath deep in from the nose, and slowly exhale through your mouth, calming your rapid heartbeat.
The girls still giggle beside you, resuming their unrefined dancing; now also singing their favourite lullaby in lieu of a songcord.
Sufficiently cooled off, you turn your head to your daughters to admire them in their silliness.
Your brow nits in slight confusion though, when you see them waving at something behind you, giggling all the while.
You turn around, curiosity in your eyes.
But the shoreline is just as empty as when you arrived.
---
Author's Notes: It was a private funeral dance 😢
Resplendent
word count: 1220
Pairing: Neteyam Sully x Female! Metkayina! Na'vi Reader Tags/warnings: Fluff, angst, bittersweet, established relationship, adult reader, adult Neteyam, no smut Summary: Neteyam quietly watches you from the shore as you perform a ritual dance in the water, to the utter delight of your daughters.
Author's Note: Set some time after the big battle. Also moved those events further ahead. You and Neteyam are mated and have children before the RDA attacks the reef. Got inspired by the song~
Sa’nu - mum, mommy
Tahni - bioluminescent freckle
Close your eyes.
Deep breathes.
Remember the moves.
Remember the words...
Your heart thrums in your chest almost painfully. You take a deep, slow, calming breath; placing a hand over your heart.
“Sa’nu? Are you okay?”
You open your eyes, looking down to meet the gaze of your youngest daughter. The cool water of the sea comes up to her neck. Sweet thing. You told her, she and her sister could watch you from the shoreline. But they were persistent to be as close to you as possible. The water barely reaches your hips.
You offer a soft smile, reaching down and affectionately stroking her hair.
“I’m okay…Don’t worry my little star. Mommy’s just nervous.” The 5-year-old beams up at you with a toothy grin. Your 6-year-old beside her pats you on the arm.
“You practiced aaaaall the time! You got this.” She offers you her own encouraging smile. You give her an appreciative nod before facing the shoreline once more. You return your face to neutrality, closing your eyes once again.
You hear the disturbance of the water as your daughters move a bit to the side to give you more space to move.
With one final calming breath, you open your mouth and begin the song cord of your family.
---
Neteyam stands under the shade of a nearby tree on the shoreline. His arms are crossed as he watches the three of you.
The evening breeze carries your voice to him. He stands up straight when the sound hits his ears.
When you sing, it reminds him of the melody of birdsong in spring. No matter how many years may pass between you two, every time he hears you play the instrument of your heart, he feels like he could fall in love with you all over again.
He takes in your form as you start swaying in the water, admiring you from top to bottom.
Your hair, thick and long, reaching all the way down to your knees; you and your sisters spent what must have been hours, braiding it into the intricate patterns now adorning your head.
Even from this distance, he can still make out the faint markings of the tattoos framing your face. Though today you also have a thin line of white painting the centre of your face. You could have mud smeared all over and he would still find you to be the most beautiful woman; you have him convinced you are blessed by Eywa herself.
You arms move slow and with purpose through the air; attuned with the words as they fall from your lips.
Your soft lips.
How he wishes he could kiss you right now.
You dip down, submerging your arms into the water. In one fluid motion, you rise back up to your feet, the motion you perform with your hands and arms bring water up with you as you rose. Your arms are stretched out to your sides as you pirouette.
Neteyam’s heart skips a beat as he watches you, and it’s as if time itself slows, just so he can drink in the beauty of your very being.
With your back to eclipse, your front is cast in shadow.
The water falls around you in a shimmering curtain of rain. The last light of eclipse hits the smooth stones woven into the fabric on your chest; causing a cascade of colours to dance across your skin. And when the sun disappears, your tahni come to life like the brilliance of dawn.
It’s one of his most favourite parts of your body. Though you had the scattered stars as did all Na’vi, for reasons he attests only to being blessed by Eywa, you have thin bioluminescent swirls weaving itself around your arms, chest, and all down your legs. To him it’s like a faint galaxy glittering in the night.
He recalls fondly the memory of him knowing each and every star on your body intimately.
And in the fading light of the day do you shine before him. Resplendent as you are in the day, so too will you dazzle the world around you in the darkness of the approaching night.
His heart throbs something fierce when you open your eyes after dipping into the water once more. Even behind the curtain of water, or the netting of the fabric draped over your head, your eyes glow with a fierceness he knows all to well. It pierces his very soul, a warmth sweeping over him.
He drinks you in more as you bend your form this way and that. He wishes he knew the intricacies of your dance; understood what each fluid motion meant, the significance of each swish of your tail, or the ways you angle your hands and bend your fingers.
You close your eyes as you near the end of the cord song.
As you perform another twirl, you playfully swat the water with your thick tail, splashing your daughters.
Their uncontrollable gigging brings a smile to your face. You open your eyes as you continue to dance, giving them a loving look. They’re splashing each other with reckless abandon as they try to imitate your moves. You can’t help the unrestrained laughter their antics bring you.
Neteyam laughs quietly to himself as he watches his girls playfully flay about in the water. Every day since their birth he’s given thanks to both you and the Great Mother for blessing him with such miracles. He hadn’t thought it was possible to love something as much as he loved you.
He feels a stray tear fall down his cheek. But he doesn’t move to wipe it away. Instead he continues to smile as he watches your song and dance coming to its conclusion.
You turn to face the horizon, and his gaze drifts to his girls.
They’re singing something he can’t quite make out, but he loves the sound nonetheless.
And when their eyes meet his, finally noticing his presence, they wave at him wildly, giggling all over again.
His smile grows wider, and he offers them a small wave back.
---
One final pose, and you hold the final note of your song, eyes still closed. You hold that note until your lungs and throat burn.
You hear the excited cheers of your daughters as they shower you with praise. Your breathing is laboured as your heart pounds in your chest, but you offer them a bow and a small smile of gratitude.
You turn yourself to the horizon before you finally open your eyes. The ritual dance has come to and end.
You rub the cool ocean water on your cheeks, in your neck, and down your arms; all in an effort to cool you down from your laborious activity. You breath deep in from the nose, and slowly exhale through your mouth, calming your rapid heartbeat.
The girls still giggle beside you, resuming their unrefined dancing; now also singing their favourite lullaby in lieu of a songcord.
Sufficiently cooled off, you turn your head to your daughters to admire them in their silliness.
Your brow nits in slight confusion though, when you see them waving at something behind you, giggling all the while.
You turn around, curiosity in your eyes.
But the shoreline is just as empty as when you arrived.
---
Author's Notes: It was a private funeral dance 😢
Self promo don worry about it
I realized I've been beating myself up with the thought that I can't write unless it's for something, and its clean and finished, which isn't good. This is my first step to try and get out of that!
Rise Raph × reader angst!
Red Red Red
Word count: 363
°•.•°
Your vision blurred, the bright things brighter from the cold that teased the edges of your eyelids but didn't dare fall. The pain had been so much just moments before, but too much morphed into nothing, either thanks to shock or something else. You flinched and turned away from an impact you heard to your left, only for light to breach the rubble that had you trapped.
"Softy!"
You recognized that gruff voice, even further recognized the red masked face that looked at yours.
"Hey, Raphie," you murmured, only for the use of your voice to push discomfort up your throat until you coughed it out.
Raphs eyes looked so small, so scared, focused lower on your body rather than your face. You hated seeing him so uneasy. He was rarely free of unease. You felt so bad for doing this to him.
His hand must have touched you, as the buzzing ache turned sharp and ripped a screech from your chest. He pulled his hand away immediately, eyes glancing to the red you saw painting his skin, only for him to instead look at your face. You wondered, same as him, how you were the one so calm in this moment. Tears fell from his eyes, fat and wet and soaking his mask a similar color to his hand.
"I-I can't- not you," he begged, your name coming out a strangled sound.
"You won't," you replied, doing your best to smile just to sell it. He didn't say he didn't believe you.
His hand, painted in red, colored your skin and hair as he brushed his thumb on your cheek. You leaned into his touch, your tears finally falling aswell. It surprised you when his lips crashed into yours.
And he smothered you, and you wanted nothing more. Your lips moved against his like it'd be the last time, knowing it'd be the last time, desperately trying to convey just how much you love him. He returned it with an even greater level of care, trying to convey just how much he needed you.
Everything faded away in that kiss. The world, the pain, sight and sound and touch.
Raph sobbed alone.
I realized I've been beating myself up with the thought that I can't write unless it's for something, and its clean and finished, which isn't good. This is my first step to try and get out of that!
Rise Raph × reader angst!
Red Red Red
Word count: 363
°•.•°
Your vision blurred, the bright things brighter from the cold that teased the edges of your eyelids but didn't dare fall. The pain had been so much just moments before, but too much morphed into nothing, either thanks to shock or something else. You flinched and turned away from an impact you heard to your left, only for light to breach the rubble that had you trapped.
"Softy!"
You recognized that gruff voice, even further recognized the red masked face that looked at yours.
"Hey, Raphie," you murmured, only for the use of your voice to push discomfort up your throat until you coughed it out.
Raphs eyes looked so small, so scared, focused lower on your body rather than your face. You hated seeing him so uneasy. He was rarely free of unease. You felt so bad for doing this to him.
His hand must have touched you, as the buzzing ache turned sharp and ripped a screech from your chest. He pulled his hand away immediately, eyes glancing to the red you saw painting his skin, only for him to instead look at your face. You wondered, same as him, how you were the one so calm in this moment. Tears fell from his eyes, fat and wet and soaking his mask a similar color to his hand.
"I-I can't- not you," he begged, your name coming out a strangled sound.
"You won't," you replied, doing your best to smile just to sell it. He didn't say he didn't believe you.
His hand, painted in red, colored your skin and hair as he brushed his thumb on your cheek. You leaned into his touch, your tears finally falling aswell. It surprised you when his lips crashed into yours.
And he smothered you, and you wanted nothing more. Your lips moved against his like it'd be the last time, knowing it'd be the last time, desperately trying to convey just how much you love him. He returned it with an even greater level of care, trying to convey just how much he needed you.
Everything faded away in that kiss. The world, the pain, sight and sound and touch.
Raph sobbed alone.
me but its always the baltimore scene via the audio books cuz gotta love the angst for comfort
This is very me coded fam.
𝘄𝗶𝘀𝗵 𝗜 𝗵𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂 - 𝘀𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘂 𝗴𝗼𝗷𝗼
sypnosis. your dreams with Satoru coming to an end after the 'shinjuku showdown' fight aftermath.
contents. hurt/no comfort, canon-typical violence, blood, major character death, emotional distress, angst, fiancé!gojo.
word count. 1k
—————————————————————————
Life had a way for screwing him over.
When Satoru Gojo thought about death, he brushed it off. The strongest can’t die, he used to say. Almost thinking it as some sort of joke or an insult towards him. He believed—deep down—that he’d be the one sorcerer to walk away without regrets. Or at least, that he’d be exempt from them.
But after the fight with Sukuna in Shinjuku on December 24th, 2018?
He realized just how wrong he was.
Even after declaring victory, he didn’t quite expect Sukuna to stop right there and then. One second of letting his guard down was all it took. One second to cost him everything.
There’s so much blood. The metallic scent hangs heavy in the air as Satoru lies on the ground he once fought beneath—his body in two halves, cleaved straight through his Infinity. He’s barely conscious now, slipping in and out. Something he never thought would happen. Not to him.
Everything hurts. God, he forgot just how bad this felt ever since his fight with Toji Fushiguro. His one and only slip up, he thought. It was almost like deja vu for the man. But not hurting as much as seeing you cry.
When he hears your voice tremble—*“I just got you back”—*something in him became aware of something he hadn’t realize yet. All this time, putting work above, rushing for the thrill of not only fighting but his goals as well made him realize it wasn’t just him being affected, but everyone else who admired him.
“I’m sorry,” he chokes out, voice raw and fragile. Even speaking hurts.
Years.
Months of finally having peace. Of holding your hand without fear. Of knowing you were his, and he was yours. Of talking about wedding venues and late-night takeout. And now—just like that—it was all crumbling.
You told yourself you wouldn’t cry. No. You shouldn’t cry.
He was going to make it.
He had to.
But the more blood you saw, the more you saw his eyes flutter closed, the more that belief began to feel like a fantasy.
You had just gotten him back.
You were just about to get married.
You were finally building the life you dreamed of.
You shook your head, rejecting his apology. “It’s okay. Really, it’s okay…” you whispered, your voice nearly breaking. You stood at his side, frozen. Paralyzed. You didn’t care who was watching—his students, Shoko—it didn’t matter. You were more vulnerable than ever, and all you could see was him.
Then he asked if you were mad at him. Even now, even like this, he was worried about your feelings. About where you stood. About hurting you. “No… no, don’t say that…” you mumbled, finally stepping forward to take his hand. Your outfit was soaked in blood—his blood. Your eyes were red, your face flushed. You looked like a mess, but none of it mattered.
You wanted everyone to see what had been done to him.
To feel even a fraction of what you and Satoru felt.
His eyes drooped again, and panic set in. Was time running out already? “I’m not mad. I’ll never be mad,” you sniffled. Your voice cracked again. Even through every fight, every harsh word, your devotion never wavered. Satoru managed a weak smile, relief softening his battered face. Pain rippled through him as he leaned into your touch. His eyes fluttered closed, and a shallow, rattling breath escaped him. Speaking was getting harder.
When his gaze met yours again, it faltered. You were covered in his blood. You looked completely broken. “You don’t… have to see me like this…” he whispered. The words were barely air. But you couldn’t hold it back anymore.
“I love you.”
It was time.
Those words had waited too long. Always there, always understood—but never said. They weren’t casual words. Not for you. They carried weight. Meaning.
Real. Serious.
That’s why he looked so shocked.
“I love you, Satoru Gojo,” you said again, firmer this time. Your voice wavered, but it was clear.
If he wasn't in his current state, he would've probably taken that statement as a joke to deflect the tension between them. But Satoru couldn't deny the sincerity of your words, and the emotion behind them made his heart ache. For the first time in a long time, he felt vulnerable, even if he was close to death.
He squeezed your hand—weakly, but with intent. His lips parted, trying to reply, but his throat clenched. No words came.
You didn’t need them. Not really.
“I will always love you,” you whispered.
You wanted to hear it back—just once. But you didn’t ask. You wouldn’t put that weight on him. Not now.
Leaning down, you kissed him.
A soft kiss. Gentle. Barely there.
It felt like your first kiss—right outside Jujutsu High. The day when you two finally became teachers, you two also confessed to one another. The sun had been warm, and despite being adults, you’d giggled like kids.
You pulled away, lips stained in his blood, and studied his face. Your love had always been complicated. Messy. Raw. But he never doubted you. You never doubted him.
Unspoken, but always understood.
You were already thinking back.
Your first mission.
Your first kiss.
Your first time.
Your first date.
Your first everything.
You remembered the quiet talks about a future. About family. About souvenirs from the missions he will have outside of the country as a makeup. Sharing strawberry cake after midnight when you two had cravings. Making Kikufuku—his favorite—and making a disaster of your kitchen.
And then came the regret.
Not the big things.
The little ones.
Regretting the times you scolded him over trivial things.
Regretting not buying that stupid cake he nagged you about all day.
Regretting the times you said, “Not today,” when he wanted to hang out.
Regretting not savoring every single second—even though you thought you had. Because it’s always the littlest things that stay with you when you’re losing someone. The things you thought you’d always have. But you weren’t the only one with regrets.
His?
He didn’t do enough.
He worries—despite all his strength—that nothing truly changed. That the higher-ups will keep failing the next generation. That more students will die too soon. That the cycle will never end.
He should’ve done more.
He could’ve done more.
He didn’t even want to believe he was really here, bleeding out and thinking about his regrets. He wanted to laugh at himself for even thinking that way, but he couldn’t run away from it. Not anymore.
He was getting weaker. Silently he was telling himself this was really it. Fighting the urge to stay awake, his time was coming to an end. Even with death, he hadn’t felt this peaceful since the day he was born. Being the only time in his life that he was ever at peace.
The last thing Satoru feels before he closes his eyes is your kiss. And despite the pain, despite the blood and the agony— that moment where his body become unfamiliar to the feeling of comfort and relaxation—
He savors it.
He savors you.
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note. this is my first time publishing on tumblr! i’ve been using my notes app as a journal and thought a small wip could be shared :). thank u xo
::::::Fyolai::::::::::::::
Please forgive me, this is my first time posting a fanfic on tumblr! This does contain major character death, slight spoilers, Mentions of injuries and blood, hurt no comfort (?), and very poor Russian (I’m trying to learn I’m sorry…)!
::::::::Enjoy!:::::::::::::
“Nikolai, you’re hovering…” Fyodor whispered. Careful breaths despite the pain he was supposedly in. Avoiding the gaze of Nikolai’s panic. As the lithe and thin Ukrainian boy moved the rocks and rubble from around the bleeding Russian. Dazai and Chūya long gone now, under the impression that Fyodor was dead, it could’ve been a fast and simple way to run away. To run away, never step foot in Yokohama again, to leave the prison, to use their newfound advantage and curse the bastardly moon for abandoning them and the sun for daringly peaking over the water and shining right in the heterochromic eyes of Nikolai. As soon as the whole incident happened, Nikolai felt his air leave his body, his heart solemn with abandoning his chest and shattering on the floor, Fyodor was never one to share a plan but as the helicopter came crashing down… no. It was as the pole went through Fyodor’s stomach and the blood gushed from his mouth like a geyser. The crimson color leaking over his pale lips and dripping on to his white prison clothing, staining the innocent color with contentment. That Nikolai wished he’d asked more questions before blindly trusting. “Koyla… I’m alright…дорого́й… Я пообеща́л.” Fyodor said in his usual distant tone. His mother tongue slipped through the air, reaching Nikolai as both warm and dead. “Fedya… no Fedya you’re not… Fedya you’re… I can fix this. Плева́ть Dazai! Плева́ть the world!” Nikolai said in an ever growing frustrated tone. Ready to scorch the earth and leave nothing behind to tell the story of why. Nikolai was fully aware the Russian boy was more than capable of handling most things himself. Hell, Fyodor had built two different organizations from the ground up, he controlled every little aspect of his life and dealt with Nikolai and the trials of his actions. But this wasn’t something that Fyodor would be able to just shrug off and deal with when he was stronger. “Koyla. It’s not your fault.” Despite the attempts of the sun, the air remained cold and fragmenting to Nikolai. As the air continued to constrict and settle into Nikolai’s throat, he held Fyodor’s hand to his chest, the sound echoed. “It will never be your fault Koyla.” Fyodor’s voice rang in Nikolai’s head, ringing and ringing till silence. The hollow of the wind, it all froze and it felt like time stood still and Nikolai was pushing against the very resistance of the air as he stood up. There in his hand was Fyodor’s hand. But there was no body attached. Fyodor was gone, and no amount of sitting with his corpse was going to bring him back. No amount of sitting with his corpse, clinging to his arm like a lifeline and his last hope on the sea of despair… was going to bring Fyodor back. It was just the way life was, this was supposed to be his goal right? Like what Dazai said, this was what Nikolai’s goal was no? To rid himself of his human emotions, or restrictions as he once thought of them, and be as free as the birds outside his window as a child and now in his adult life. But now that it had happened, he was less sure of the things he wanted, and desperately wanted back what he’d once needed. For even a moment, he wanted to rush the questions and run the conversations, all the things he wanted to say… he wanted to sit down and have the time back. Now all that was left of Fyodor, was the Russian boy with a plan bigger than himself and a dream that left an impact on Nikolai’s mind. Nikolai had hundreds of things he wanted to do and say, but to whom would he say them too? Who would watch his antics? Who would listen and be able to actually understand him? So many years of hiding behind his words, the once intrusive ability that Fyodor seemed to have, Nikolai missed having someone be able to read in between the lines and see his true feelings.
Fyodor would know how to handle this. Nikolai thought, as the once small streets of Yokohama seemed to triple in size and swallow him whole. He’d made it to Yokohama somehow. Maybe it was luck, being in a city that was once familiar to him, or maybe it was simply all he could do. Whether he admitted it or not, Fyodor was the logical and cunning one of the two, truly the guiding star. And now, for better or for worse, that compass was gone and it left Nikolai wondering how he was going to enjoy his new ”Freedom”. In his head he was under the constant battle of, “I wanted to be free” or “Was it better to be in my ’birdcage’?” He didn’t exactly know anymore. Nothing seemed to truly matter now that he’d up and aided in the murder of his friend, of his everything. It seemed a little more blank, the world, without the grim colored glass that Fyodor saw the world with due to “Gifted” individuals and for once the iron colored glasses that Nikolai saw the caged world as didn’t seem to fit his eyes quite right. Nothing about Yokohama seemed out of the ordinary, but it seemed so bland it was unsettling. A smile with too many teeth, a baby with 2 diapers and not one, shoes on the wrong feet. Nothing that could outright get your attention, as you might converse with a man with too many teeth for a long time before realizing that he had 42 teeth and not the average 32 teeth. You would not notice at first as did hold an infant the amount of diapers it has on, since at least it has a diaper on. And even you, yourself, might be tired and not think as you’d tie your shoes, only to later realize that you’ve stumbled about your work or office in shoes on the wrong feet. None of these things were horrible, but once you’ve seen something unusual it is hard to unsee it. Nothing seemed the same now. Nothing seemed to be colored right. Nothing seemed to be sounding right. Nothing seemed to be right.
As he sauntered into the stores, for once he didn’t feel the urge to shop lift, and as he walked the streets… he felt so desolate in his own presence that he couldn’t understand how those around him could manage to share a sideway with him. This was his life now. He’d have to accept his conditions. This was all he will know… there’s no Fyodor to save him now…