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thoughts on being engaged to duke!sunday, the head of the oak family, an incredibly influential figurehead within society, the close subordinate of emperor gopher wood who brought him and his sister in and raised him like his own, and the villain who faces a tragic ending in a novel you recently finished — the very same one you just so happen to find yourself transmigrated into. he is as cunning as he is blinded, a trait which brought ruin to many in the empire, and one which ultimately brought ruin to himself at the hands of the protagonists.

as luck would have it, you became a barely mentioned side character from a marquis family, whose role was to be the villain's wife stuck in a one-sided love who, too, would get caught up in the tragedy alongside him. however, now that it's you who is stuck in this position, you're determined to try any means necessary to deter him from going down that path, all in an effort to escape your predestined doomed fate!

of course, you didn't expect it to be easy. the day of your arrival in this world was already the night before your wedding, so you had little time to prepare yourself for the nonchalance of your supposed family, how they viewed you as but a means — a tool — to boost their influence and prosperity, the dismissive mannerisms of the household servants, and the absolute beauty of a man you will be married to.

(seriously. the novel descriptions did not do him justice. he was like... like... like he was handcrafted by god himself! and not to mention his sister, robin, was the very epitome of an angel! perhaps you're destined to perish by the god-tier visuals instead...)

to say the least, the wedding ceremony went by quickly. safe to say you didn't spend the night; he was cordial and gentlemanly upon letting you know that he won't do anything until you're ready, that you can take this relationship slow, but somehow you ended up feeling a tad insulted. like, who leaves their newly wedded alone in a big cold bed as they walk out on their own? a sick bastard that's who!

well, whatever. it's not like you need nor want to consummate with him! besides, you have bigger things to worry about — things such as your impending death. and, of course, the only way to stop sunday that you can imagine working is by chipping away at his resolve bit by bit, and opening his eyes to reality.

he is a tragic character, one who cares more about the well-being of penacony and its people than anyone else, but was manipulated into getting his hands dirty in the emperor's stead. you knew this. you sobbed over his story, cursed out the protagonists, and even fought internet randos on novel forums about sunday's motivation and how,

no, he is not just a stupid villain. he is a complex character with flaws and humanity and was cruelly taken advantage of by someone he considered family. he was deceived through the suffering the emperor wanted him to see to make him easily manipulated, creating a rift between him and robin to have that prominent separation. you know what? maybe you're just a !%#@ who can't even #@?"% read properly!

and yet you still find yourself at a loss when faced with the walls he has in place. your initial efforts went as well as it possibly could have; you trying to earnestly help him, while he "kindly" dismisses your offers! well, "kindly" being more condescending since you could read between the lines of his mannerisms and amiable demeanour, but that's fine! you expected this! that just means you have to double down on your sincerity, get through to his heart (somehow), and help him realise humanity isn't as weak as he's led to believe!

you have three years until the novel's plot officially starts, and another year after that until your demise. that's plenty of time to get him to warm up to you!

it was easier said than done, but after your valiant effort and abundance of time put into this relationship, which admittedly you could do with some of that lost time back, you could give yourself a pat on the back with the progress you made! while you definitely could have done without a lot of the headaches, it's safe to say sunday has significantly warmed up to you in comparison to your wedding day. he now willingly eats all his meals with you with some real conversation, takes garden strolls with you in the early evenings, invites you out for dinner at a restaurant at least four times a week, hell he's even joked and laughed with you more frequently! but most importantly, he has begun asking for your opinion before finalising any decisions he is required to make. and he actually listens and considers your side! now, that certainly is the best outcome you could hope for after all this time, and it most definitely will help in your endeavour to save you both from the protagonists!

however, you've noticed he's been more... affectionate? well, at the very least he now willingly holds your hand when in private (not just in moments when you're in the public eye and he has to make sure the family's reputation is spotless), sometimes he will hug you out of the blue ("i just need to... recharge. you have a way of calming me down. i hope you don't mind." ...how could you say no to his supreme god-tier face card? that's just a losing battle you won't even bother fighting against.), oftentimes he opts to just gaze wordlessly at you (robin had mentioned over one of your tea times how it almost appears as though there is no one but you in the world when sunday gazes at you with, in her words, "the eyes of a man so deeply in love!" ...whatever that's supposed to mean...), but a more recent development has been his sudden interest in kissing you; well, more specifically giving you a kiss to the back of your hand or on your forehead — certainly not anywhere near the lips! (besides, he's probably just gotten comfortable with you, enough where he can freely act without judgement. nothing more, nothing less.)

well, either way, development is development! soon enough, the time for the main plot to start has arrived. it of course follows what you remember, from the organised balls to the protagonists meeting to the political aspects of it all. the only difference is sunday's less active involvement in all the schemes and the emperor's ploy. rather, he seems more focused on you and the future of your marriage and even displayed a sudden interest in your practically non-existent relationship with one of the foreign diplomats, aventurine— wait...

"[name]," he calls your name out so sweetly you nearly disregarded it as someone else he was talking to. well, perhaps you would have done had he not suddenly appeared before you, a tight-lipped smile tugging the corners of his lips as he steadily approaches you.

oh. he doesn't seem very happy, if his tense figure is anything to go by. you wonder if one of the nobles grated his nerves a little too much this time?

sunday comes to a halt a step away from you. "i don't like that... gambler being so close to you. it... it brings me a rather unpleasant feeling." there's a slight, trembling pause. not a moment later does he close the gap between you, one knee on the ground as he matches your seated height on the fountain rim, your hands gently enclosed in both of his.

you idly wonder if this is what robin meant by the so-called "eyes of a man so deeply in love" she constantly gushed about, for the way in which he gazes up at you is enough to render you breathless.

"tell me, [name]," he begins once more. there is an underlying desperation woven within his tone, one which has your head spinning and heart thumping wildly as his trembling gaze holds you in place. "tell me, what i am supposed to do with this fervent love and overwhelming adoration i hold for you?"

oh.

...oh.

perhaps your impending doom should be the least of your concerns when you now find yourself in the arms of a clingy husband...

(though, it's safe to say you did, in fact, manage to prevent him from succumbing to his tragic fate! you just gained a loving, yet slight slightly emotionally challenged husband along the way.

well, you can help him work through it; you have the rest of your lives now to figure it out, after all.)

they give someone you don’t like their hoodie

CHARACTERS: akaashi + kageyama + kenma + (gn!reader)

REQUEST: hii! can i request a scenario wherein they give their hoodie to a girl that their s/o doenst like (whether it be to annoy them or just because they’re oblivious) hope this hasn’t been asked before >< and i was hoping you could write for kenma kageyama and akaashi !! btw i love your works :)) i hope you’re doing well !! stay safe 😇 • by anonymous

WARNINGS: none

NOTES: i wrote that they did it cause they were oblivious! <3 and thank u!! this is a mini hc btw hope that’s okay!

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Flowers for You | Gojo Satoru x Reader

Summary: You hold in your feelings for him and something else begins to grow.

Content: gn!reaader, Hanahaki Disease (reader has the flowers), descriptions of blood/gore/vomit (i am at my heart, a horror writer, so), pining, angst

a/n: i love hanahaki fics so i really wanted to try one with my beloved gojo!

Gojo Satoru is your friend. You’ve always had an ability to see what he’s thinking before he says it, or before he even realizes it. You’re someone who can tell when he’s at his limit when he needs help even if he pushes it away. You’re special to him, and he’s very special to you.

And you definitely love him. You love him so much, you always want to see him and his smile and feel his energized nature around you. When he’s next to you, you’re so happy and full of butterflies and joy it’s almost sickening. He understands you, and you understand him. You simply love him.

But you know it couldn’t be anything. He can’t let himself close to someone like that again, and while you feel so close to him you know that’s too far away from you. He’s Gojo Satoru, and you are just you. You told yourself it’d be okay, you were happy to have him as a friend. And you are, you still love all the time you spend together. Every smile, joke, and the fond memories you keep dear to you.

But that ache just won’t go away. When you glance at him and see his sharp features and serious face as he’s thinking, or when he laughs with his students, or when he gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. It builds inside your chest and before you know it, every day around him starts to hurt.

And as it turns out, that ache inside your chest wasn’t so metaphorical.

It starts with a cough that won’t go away. Worried you were sick, although you noted it just felt like something was stuck in your chest. Gojo chided you that you need to take better care of yourself, and you retorted that so does he!

When you start coughing more heavily and something falls out your mouth, though. Your eyes widen, holding bloodied clumps of flower petals in your hand as you stand over your sink.

Your mind races. This is a curse, it has to be right? It had to be. You try to think back to any encounters that could cause this but nothing is there. You don’t feel anything on or around you besides your own energy, there’s nothing to exorcise. You don’t understand.

+++

Shoko’s the best person to go to, of course. You don’t need to worry anyone else, so you tell everyone it’s just a nasty cough– how funny it is to fight against curses yet be taken down by a little cold? It gets you a few laughs and you try to hold back the coughs of blood and petals.

It didn’t take long for her to figure it out, the moment you sat down and explained your symptoms. She examines you with a bored expression for all but a minute, or barely that, and pulls back. She takes a drag of her cigarette as you wait, anxious.

“I know what this is,” Shoko says, after exhaling a plume of smoke. She tilts her head and studies you with tired eyes. “You cursed yourself.”

“I did? How…?”

“I’ve heard about it. It’s not particularly common but it happens, you’re my first case.” She leans in and studies your face. “Shame, I can’t just open you up and see the sprout inside you.”

“The what?”

“Sprout. Growth. There are flowers growing inside your lungs right now. And it’s going to keep growing and growing.” Your eyes widen, but Shoko remains placid as she takes another drag of her cigarette. “It’s happening because you’re repressing your love for someone. Who is it?”

You sputter at her bluntness, holding your hands up in defense. “Whoa! What do you mean? H-how could I do that to myself? And–”

“It happens to sorcerers. Not really often, it’s recorded mostly in historical texts. You’ve cursed yourself to death because you can’t admit your feelings, huh?” Her lips quirk into a tiny smile as she observes you in your panicked state.

“To death? Why do you sound amused?”

“Because it’s love. Love’s a curse, isn’t it? Anyway, who is it? Just tell them, it should go away if you just confess.” She taps her cigarette and you see the ashes just fall to the floor. “Well, it should. If not, then I’ll remove it.”

You sigh and rub your forehead in frustration. You’re being teased, aren’t you? You wonder if Shoko knows who it is. You always think you’re so painfully obvious of your love for him. The love of him that’s currently killing you, apparently. “Why don’t you remove it now?”

Shoko presses her lips together into a line, humming. “It comes with complications.”

You let out a ragged sigh and can’t help but roll your eyes. “Of course it does, this curse shit is never simple.”

“I can remove it. But this flower is your love for someone, it’s just manifested into something physical inside of you. If I remove it, it’ll remove your love for them. Completely.” That catches your attention and you stiffen at her words. “And… you’ll never be able to love again. Ever. No one else. Forming bonds and such… it will be dead to you. Gone. Forever.”

Your mouth goes dry as you think about this, the reality of it hitting you like cold water. “I… see.” You wring your hands together and stare at the tile. You’re considering it. She had said this would kill you eventually anyway. It’s not like sorcerers live that long in the first place.

“You’re not seriously considering it, are you?” Shoko says, reading your mind. She looks completely done with you. “Just tell them.”

You look up at her and it must be on your face because she relents with a heavy sigh. “Think about it. If it gets any worse then come see me.” You see her frown as she looks at you. “I don’t want to see you dead, you know?”

You swallow thickly. “Yeah.” Glancing back down, you can’t help but find it so funny how your love seems to just cause so many problems.

“I know.”

Maybe it’s best to live without it.

+++

At least you’re good at covering it up. When you feel a fit come on, you excuse yourself. It’s just petals and some blood and you quickly clean it up. Gojo notices that your throat is sounding hoarse and buys you some throat medicine. When he presses it into your hand and smiles at you, tells you to be careful, you end up throwing up for twenty minutes later that night.

It goes from petals to chunks of flowers and roots. You pull a vine out that’s tangled with blood and gore, ripped from your throat.

It’s hard to eat, it’s hard to breathe. And every time you're graced with Gojo's dazzling smile or hear his cheerful voice or receive a silly text message full of emojis and hearts, it gets worse and worse. They all start to notice your deteriorating state but you try your best to reassure them that you’re fine. You shrug them off. Gojo doesn’t believe it, he knows something’s very wrong, he knows you’re lying, but he doesn’t pry. You always liked that about him. You want to avoid him but imagining if he’d be disappointed or hurt makes you want to die.

And you probably are going to die, because Gojo brings you a box of pastries and sweets and it takes all of your being to hold it all in. “I wanted to cheer you up.” He says. “Look at this one, it’s a little bunny!” He points it out to you but you can’t even focus on it, or anything but the deep ache in your chest that crawls into your throat. You watch as his hand falls to his side.

“What’s wrong?” He asks you, his voice serious and quiet as he stands in front of you. He’s so tall and you feel so impossibly small and pathetic in his presence and it hurts more than ever now.

“You’re really worrying me, you know?”

You don’t want to cry and your hands tremble as they hold the box. You suck in a breath and hope he doesn’t notice, but you’re sure he does.

“You can always rely on me.”

Full flowers come out later that night. That’s when you find out they are hydrangeas. Pink. And one is blue, and you know why.

“I’m the strongest.”

You know that. And it’s why you can’t. It’s why you’re sorry.

You take a deep breath, you smile at him. Your voice sounds so torn and ragged but you push through and put on the most convincing face for him. “Yeah, I know. Thank you, Gojo. I’m sorry to worry you.” His lips part just a bit and he looks like he wants to say something but you quickly cut in, and there’s some resignation in your voice. “I’ll go see Shoko.”

“I know she can help me out.”

+++

You made your decision. It’ll be okay, you say. It’ll be okay. It’s for him, anyway, isn’t it? You don’t want to burden him, you don’t want to curse him, you don’t want him to hurt anymore than he already does.

He’s already worried about you. And it’s your fault, it’s your love doing this. If you die, it’d surely hurt him. And it’d hurt Shoko, it’d hurt the students. So you can’t die yet. This was the best option.

If you never love again, too, you’d never hurt like this again. And the people around you won’t have to suffer for it. You send Shoko a message, telling her your decision. She responds with irritated resignation, and that’s good enough for you. You don’t need her to understand.

You want a feeling of peace to take you over, you want this decision to feel right and calm but his face. The moment you think of it, think of losing these feelings and think of how all you want to do is simply kiss him as hard as possible, you want to hold him and cup his cheek, you want to be feel his body against yours, you want— you barely make it to the sink before you’re doubling over, sobbing and hacking up blood, gore, flowers, and roots.

It hurts, it hurts not just in your lungs but your head and heart and it’s the most agonizing thing in the world. You’re almost screaming in pain and broken sobs, the sink, and counter covered in the mess that you can’t stop hacking up. Blood stains your hands and your clothes, your vision is blurry with tears. Your throat feels so raw but it keeps coming and Gojo’s face just won’t leave your mind. Your knees wobble and you’re about to collapse to your knees when you hear him behind you.

He’s calling your name and you’re greeted by the feeling of his strong hands on your shoulder, pulling you up and holding you steady.

No, no, no no– please–

“What– what is this? What’s going on?” He sounds scared and worried, and it’s not a tone you’re used to hearing. He’s not wearing his blindfold and you see those blue eyes flicker over to behind you, the mess of blood and gore that decorates it. His eyes widen and fear twists his features.

“Gojo,” you croak out, and he winces at how ragged and torn your sound. “- I’m okay–”

He bites into his lip and spins you around to look at your face. “No, you’re not.” He stares at your face, your lower face coated in blood and he sees the petals that hang off your lips. “You’re cursed.”

Your breathing quickens, and you feel so hot and dizzy being confronted like this. You don’t want this to happen. You want to run away but you could never outrun Gojo. Especially not when he’s holding you by the shoulders so tightly.

“Who did it? Why are you hiding it– I’ll destroy who did it, I swear-”

“Gojo-” You try again and you can’t make it, you can’t when his hand is on your cheek and he’s trying to rub the blood off. Your lip wobbles at the feeling of his hands so gentle on you. There’s so much emotion on his face, anger, fear, worry, and it tears at you.

You start to hack again, trying to push away from him so you don’t vomit all over him but he won’t let you go, he holds you tighter. He calls out your name, voice shaking, and he’s patting your back in an attempt to help you. He’s all that’s holding you up and you barely register that you’re clinging to his arm, hiding your face against his chest.

“Tell me. Right now. I’ll–”

“It’s me.” You manage to get out, heaving against him. “I did it. I cursed myself.” You pull yourself away from his chest, a shaky breath escaping you when you see blood on his jacket. Why would he let down his infinity for that?

Gojo’s hands are firm on you as he directs you to somewhere to sit down, and he kneels down in front of you. He searches your face, moonlit blue eyes staring you down and you want to escape. “Is this… what I think it is?”

“I, I love someone.” You manage to get out, the words feeling much like the flowers that you pull out of your throat. “And I can’t– I can’t tell them. They won’t-” You’re interrupted by another cough that turns into a small fit, with the way that Gojo lurches forward to you in worry. “How pathetic is that?” You manage with a pained smile, although Gojo looks completely horrified.

“Who is it?”

You want to scream, you want to scream. Every nerve feels like it’s on fire. Your breathing is heavy and fast and your hands twist and pull at your shirt. Don’t ask that, please don’t ask that.

“It doesn’t matter.” You can’t help the way your voice cracks and you’re wiping at the tears that are falling before you know it.

“Of course it does!” His hands go to your knees and he squeezes them. “You just have to confess, right? Is the threat of rejection that scary?” He tries to smile and make it sound light but it falters as he watches you cry in front of him. There’s something twisting in his gut and it’s making his skin crawl but he pushes through it, all that matters right now is the fact you’re in front of him and you’re dying.

He can't stand it. He just can't.

“Anyone, anyone, would be so lucky to have you.” His voice is dry and it’s so unsteady for him, and even he’s surprised by it. “Who could possibly reject you? And if they do, I mean, there’s–”

You shake your head furiously and bite your lip hard. “If I thought that it would ever work if it would be okay for me… to tell them. I would have already.”

He’s irritated now. You see that in his frown.

But he wouldn’t understand, would he? You think. “It’s okay, I’m going to—”

“How is this okay?” His tone is dark and you flinch when he wipes at the corner of your mouth, wiping at the clumps of petals and blood that decorates your face. Your eyes are red, puffy from crying, and you must look just downright disgusting. “Whoever it is, it can’t be worth this–”

“It’s you.”

You watch as he freezes completely, color draining from his face. You watch as his mouth drop open, his eyes widen, and his hand goes completely still. It hurts and you start to sob.

“I-I’m sorry.” You babble out, your body wracked by your sobs and every part of you is shaking. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I, I just–”

He doesn’t say anything, he’s just staring at you with those eyes still. He’s not responding. He’s not responding.

You hurt, but you wonder how much he hurts. And it’s because of you. You wish that the curse had just killed you already–

“It’s.. it’s okay.” You breathe, swallowing and taking a deep breath you look up at him and give him a smile. It’s broken, unsteady, and covered in blood. “I– Shoko can remove it. The curse. I won’t have these feelings for you or anyone else, again.”

“What?” He finally says. “Why would you…” He’s breaking in front of you. You smile at him and you’re just trying to push through it, you can’t see how he’s being pulled apart by your words. You don’t see the way his hands shake or the way he swallows with anxiety. You don’t see how frayed he’s becoming.

“It’s okay.”

It’s okay.

“It’s okay, Gojo, I’ll be–”

“How is that okay?!” He doesn’t raise his voice at you, but it’s sharp and direct and cuts you deep. His breathing is frenzied, he doesn't know what to do. “That’s not–” He cuts himself off by grabbing your face, so roughly, with his hands and pulling you forward to smash his lips against yours.

You freeze but he doesn’t, he tries to pour what he can’t say into you with his lips. He only briefly winces at the taste of gore and spit that’s still in your mouth but it doesn’t stop him, he’s trying your lips apart with his tongue and teeth and kissing you hard. You try to push him away but he refuses, he just falls more into you.

“Gojo– stop–”

He doesn’t, his hands hold you in place and he starts to lean over you until he’s almost on top of you. His teeth nip at your lips and his tongue tastes all of you and when he finally pulls back, his lips are coated in blood and spit and you see petals stuck to the corners of his mouth. He tries to go back but you gasp out “Please, stop–”

Gojo whispers your name, questioning and pleading. Your trembling hand goes to wipe the blood off him. “I don’t… want… please, don’t force it–”

Your hand is snatched by him, and you wince at how tight he holds it. “Why are you making that decision?” You’re caught by how fierce his tone is, and how his eyes start to water. “You… you’re giving up on this without even… asking me? Telling me?”

Words are stuck in your throat as you watch the first stream of tears spill down his face and he presses your hand to his lips. “I told you to rely on me.”

“I can’t ask that of you, Gojo.”

“Satoru.” He says before kissing your hand again. And again. “Please.”

You don’t think you can, you don’t think you should, but you manage to whisper it.

“I’m sorry,” and you have to shut your eyes hearing him apologize to you when this is all your fault– “I’m sorry I didn’t realize it sooner.”

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” you mumble. “I don’t want you to be hurt any more than you have.”

He shakes his head and pulls you close so he can press his forehead to yours. “I love you.” He says brokenly and you tremble against him as you both cry. “Losing you would hurt too.”

“I was going to–”

“Losing your love would hurt more.” His palm caresses your face and he nudges you to look at him and he’s so lovely that it hurts and the pain that paints his face hurts you so, so much. “If you stopped loving me, what would I do? Would you still smile at me like you always do? Would you still care for me? Still nag at me to rest, still follow me around, still laugh with me?”

You don’t have an answer.

“It would destroy me, to lose you like that.” He breathes out and his shoulders sag, you realize how tense his body is. “Your love saves me. Please don’t take it away.”

“Satoru…”

“I’m sorry I didn’t realize it sooner. That I love you too.” He smiles, weak. “I should have been the one to confess to you, I should be telling you under fireworks or something cool–”

You sob out at his confession and he’s pulling you into a hug as you cry. “I love you,” he repeats. “I love you. Please let me love you. I’ll tell you every single day so you’ll never doubt it.”

You sit together like that for a while, until you can’t cry anymore and you’re just shaking in his arms. He keeps repeating it to you. I’m sorry. I love you. I’ll tell you every day. I love you. I love you.

“Satoru,” you call out, your voice is hoarse and dry. You feel warm in his embrace, and he rubs soothing circles on your back with his big hands.

“Yeah?” He returns, his voice low and quiet.

“I… love you too. I love you so much.”

When he kisses you after that, you feel a weight in your chest lighten. And when you breathe, you find it’s the first clear breath you’ve had in months.

He looks at you with such warmth and adoration in his eyes and you love the gentle smile that’s on his lips. You let out a tiny laugh, eyes sore and dry from crying.

“I got blood all over you.”

“‘S okay.” He pulls you up with him as he stands, his hands tightly interlaced with yours. “Just help me get cleaned up. And you too. I’d like to kiss you without the taste of blood.”

You feel giddy when he says that. “I like that shy smile, I’m glad I’ll see more of it now.”

He gets to see it all night as he holds and kisses you, and every day afterward when you see him. He never lets your hand go, and he kept very true to his promise.

He tells you every day.

Here's a drink to go with the sandwich 🧋

Guys, let's make a sandwich. I'll start:

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Flowers for You | Gojo Satoru x Reader

Summary: You hold in your feelings for him and something else begins to grow.

Content: gn!reaader, Hanahaki Disease (reader has the flowers), descriptions of blood/gore/vomit (i am at my heart, a horror writer, so), pining, angst

a/n: i love hanahaki fics so i really wanted to try one with my beloved gojo!

Gojo Satoru is your friend. You’ve always had an ability to see what he’s thinking before he says it, or before he even realizes it. You’re someone who can tell when he’s at his limit when he needs help even if he pushes it away. You’re special to him, and he’s very special to you.

And you definitely love him. You love him so much, you always want to see him and his smile and feel his energized nature around you. When he’s next to you, you’re so happy and full of butterflies and joy it’s almost sickening. He understands you, and you understand him. You simply love him.

But you know it couldn’t be anything. He can’t let himself close to someone like that again, and while you feel so close to him you know that’s too far away from you. He’s Gojo Satoru, and you are just you. You told yourself it’d be okay, you were happy to have him as a friend. And you are, you still love all the time you spend together. Every smile, joke, and the fond memories you keep dear to you.

But that ache just won’t go away. When you glance at him and see his sharp features and serious face as he’s thinking, or when he laughs with his students, or when he gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. It builds inside your chest and before you know it, every day around him starts to hurt.

And as it turns out, that ache inside your chest wasn’t so metaphorical.

It starts with a cough that won’t go away. Worried you were sick, although you noted it just felt like something was stuck in your chest. Gojo chided you that you need to take better care of yourself, and you retorted that so does he!

When you start coughing more heavily and something falls out your mouth, though. Your eyes widen, holding bloodied clumps of flower petals in your hand as you stand over your sink.

Your mind races. This is a curse, it has to be right? It had to be. You try to think back to any encounters that could cause this but nothing is there. You don’t feel anything on or around you besides your own energy, there’s nothing to exorcise. You don’t understand.

+++

Shoko’s the best person to go to, of course. You don’t need to worry anyone else, so you tell everyone it’s just a nasty cough– how funny it is to fight against curses yet be taken down by a little cold? It gets you a few laughs and you try to hold back the coughs of blood and petals.

It didn’t take long for her to figure it out, the moment you sat down and explained your symptoms. She examines you with a bored expression for all but a minute, or barely that, and pulls back. She takes a drag of her cigarette as you wait, anxious.

“I know what this is,” Shoko says, after exhaling a plume of smoke. She tilts her head and studies you with tired eyes. “You cursed yourself.”

“I did? How…?”

“I’ve heard about it. It’s not particularly common but it happens, you’re my first case.” She leans in and studies your face. “Shame, I can’t just open you up and see the sprout inside you.”

“The what?”

“Sprout. Growth. There are flowers growing inside your lungs right now. And it’s going to keep growing and growing.” Your eyes widen, but Shoko remains placid as she takes another drag of her cigarette. “It’s happening because you’re repressing your love for someone. Who is it?”

You sputter at her bluntness, holding your hands up in defense. “Whoa! What do you mean? H-how could I do that to myself? And–”

“It happens to sorcerers. Not really often, it’s recorded mostly in historical texts. You’ve cursed yourself to death because you can’t admit your feelings, huh?” Her lips quirk into a tiny smile as she observes you in your panicked state.

“To death? Why do you sound amused?”

“Because it’s love. Love’s a curse, isn’t it? Anyway, who is it? Just tell them, it should go away if you just confess.” She taps her cigarette and you see the ashes just fall to the floor. “Well, it should. If not, then I’ll remove it.”

You sigh and rub your forehead in frustration. You’re being teased, aren’t you? You wonder if Shoko knows who it is. You always think you’re so painfully obvious of your love for him. The love of him that’s currently killing you, apparently. “Why don’t you remove it now?”

Shoko presses her lips together into a line, humming. “It comes with complications.”

You let out a ragged sigh and can’t help but roll your eyes. “Of course it does, this curse shit is never simple.”

“I can remove it. But this flower is your love for someone, it’s just manifested into something physical inside of you. If I remove it, it’ll remove your love for them. Completely.” That catches your attention and you stiffen at her words. “And… you’ll never be able to love again. Ever. No one else. Forming bonds and such… it will be dead to you. Gone. Forever.”

Your mouth goes dry as you think about this, the reality of it hitting you like cold water. “I… see.” You wring your hands together and stare at the tile. You’re considering it. She had said this would kill you eventually anyway. It’s not like sorcerers live that long in the first place.

“You’re not seriously considering it, are you?” Shoko says, reading your mind. She looks completely done with you. “Just tell them.”

You look up at her and it must be on your face because she relents with a heavy sigh. “Think about it. If it gets any worse then come see me.” You see her frown as she looks at you. “I don’t want to see you dead, you know?”

You swallow thickly. “Yeah.” Glancing back down, you can’t help but find it so funny how your love seems to just cause so many problems.

“I know.”

Maybe it’s best to live without it.

+++

At least you’re good at covering it up. When you feel a fit come on, you excuse yourself. It’s just petals and some blood and you quickly clean it up. Gojo notices that your throat is sounding hoarse and buys you some throat medicine. When he presses it into your hand and smiles at you, tells you to be careful, you end up throwing up for twenty minutes later that night.

It goes from petals to chunks of flowers and roots. You pull a vine out that’s tangled with blood and gore, ripped from your throat.

It’s hard to eat, it’s hard to breathe. And every time you're graced with Gojo's dazzling smile or hear his cheerful voice or receive a silly text message full of emojis and hearts, it gets worse and worse. They all start to notice your deteriorating state but you try your best to reassure them that you’re fine. You shrug them off. Gojo doesn’t believe it, he knows something’s very wrong, he knows you’re lying, but he doesn’t pry. You always liked that about him. You want to avoid him but imagining if he’d be disappointed or hurt makes you want to die.

And you probably are going to die, because Gojo brings you a box of pastries and sweets and it takes all of your being to hold it all in. “I wanted to cheer you up.” He says. “Look at this one, it’s a little bunny!” He points it out to you but you can’t even focus on it, or anything but the deep ache in your chest that crawls into your throat. You watch as his hand falls to his side.

“What’s wrong?” He asks you, his voice serious and quiet as he stands in front of you. He’s so tall and you feel so impossibly small and pathetic in his presence and it hurts more than ever now.

“You’re really worrying me, you know?”

You don’t want to cry and your hands tremble as they hold the box. You suck in a breath and hope he doesn’t notice, but you’re sure he does.

“You can always rely on me.”

Full flowers come out later that night. That’s when you find out they are hydrangeas. Pink. And one is blue, and you know why.

“I’m the strongest.”

You know that. And it’s why you can’t. It’s why you’re sorry.

You take a deep breath, you smile at him. Your voice sounds so torn and ragged but you push through and put on the most convincing face for him. “Yeah, I know. Thank you, Gojo. I’m sorry to worry you.” His lips part just a bit and he looks like he wants to say something but you quickly cut in, and there’s some resignation in your voice. “I’ll go see Shoko.”

“I know she can help me out.”

+++

You made your decision. It’ll be okay, you say. It’ll be okay. It’s for him, anyway, isn’t it? You don’t want to burden him, you don’t want to curse him, you don’t want him to hurt anymore than he already does.

He’s already worried about you. And it’s your fault, it’s your love doing this. If you die, it’d surely hurt him. And it’d hurt Shoko, it’d hurt the students. So you can’t die yet. This was the best option.

If you never love again, too, you’d never hurt like this again. And the people around you won’t have to suffer for it. You send Shoko a message, telling her your decision. She responds with irritated resignation, and that’s good enough for you. You don’t need her to understand.

You want a feeling of peace to take you over, you want this decision to feel right and calm but his face. The moment you think of it, think of losing these feelings and think of how all you want to do is simply kiss him as hard as possible, you want to hold him and cup his cheek, you want to be feel his body against yours, you want— you barely make it to the sink before you’re doubling over, sobbing and hacking up blood, gore, flowers, and roots.

It hurts, it hurts not just in your lungs but your head and heart and it’s the most agonizing thing in the world. You’re almost screaming in pain and broken sobs, the sink, and counter covered in the mess that you can’t stop hacking up. Blood stains your hands and your clothes, your vision is blurry with tears. Your throat feels so raw but it keeps coming and Gojo’s face just won’t leave your mind. Your knees wobble and you’re about to collapse to your knees when you hear him behind you.

He’s calling your name and you’re greeted by the feeling of his strong hands on your shoulder, pulling you up and holding you steady.

No, no, no no– please–

“What– what is this? What’s going on?” He sounds scared and worried, and it’s not a tone you’re used to hearing. He’s not wearing his blindfold and you see those blue eyes flicker over to behind you, the mess of blood and gore that decorates it. His eyes widen and fear twists his features.

“Gojo,” you croak out, and he winces at how ragged and torn your sound. “- I’m okay–”

He bites into his lip and spins you around to look at your face. “No, you’re not.” He stares at your face, your lower face coated in blood and he sees the petals that hang off your lips. “You’re cursed.”

Your breathing quickens, and you feel so hot and dizzy being confronted like this. You don’t want this to happen. You want to run away but you could never outrun Gojo. Especially not when he’s holding you by the shoulders so tightly.

“Who did it? Why are you hiding it– I’ll destroy who did it, I swear-”

“Gojo-” You try again and you can’t make it, you can’t when his hand is on your cheek and he’s trying to rub the blood off. Your lip wobbles at the feeling of his hands so gentle on you. There’s so much emotion on his face, anger, fear, worry, and it tears at you.

You start to hack again, trying to push away from him so you don’t vomit all over him but he won’t let you go, he holds you tighter. He calls out your name, voice shaking, and he’s patting your back in an attempt to help you. He’s all that’s holding you up and you barely register that you’re clinging to his arm, hiding your face against his chest.

“Tell me. Right now. I’ll–”

“It’s me.” You manage to get out, heaving against him. “I did it. I cursed myself.” You pull yourself away from his chest, a shaky breath escaping you when you see blood on his jacket. Why would he let down his infinity for that?

Gojo’s hands are firm on you as he directs you to somewhere to sit down, and he kneels down in front of you. He searches your face, moonlit blue eyes staring you down and you want to escape. “Is this… what I think it is?”

“I, I love someone.” You manage to get out, the words feeling much like the flowers that you pull out of your throat. “And I can’t– I can’t tell them. They won’t-” You’re interrupted by another cough that turns into a small fit, with the way that Gojo lurches forward to you in worry. “How pathetic is that?” You manage with a pained smile, although Gojo looks completely horrified.

“Who is it?”

You want to scream, you want to scream. Every nerve feels like it’s on fire. Your breathing is heavy and fast and your hands twist and pull at your shirt. Don’t ask that, please don’t ask that.

“It doesn’t matter.” You can’t help the way your voice cracks and you’re wiping at the tears that are falling before you know it.

“Of course it does!” His hands go to your knees and he squeezes them. “You just have to confess, right? Is the threat of rejection that scary?” He tries to smile and make it sound light but it falters as he watches you cry in front of him. There’s something twisting in his gut and it’s making his skin crawl but he pushes through it, all that matters right now is the fact you’re in front of him and you’re dying.

He can't stand it. He just can't.

“Anyone, anyone, would be so lucky to have you.” His voice is dry and it’s so unsteady for him, and even he’s surprised by it. “Who could possibly reject you? And if they do, I mean, there’s–”

You shake your head furiously and bite your lip hard. “If I thought that it would ever work if it would be okay for me… to tell them. I would have already.”

He’s irritated now. You see that in his frown.

But he wouldn’t understand, would he? You think. “It’s okay, I’m going to—”

“How is this okay?” His tone is dark and you flinch when he wipes at the corner of your mouth, wiping at the clumps of petals and blood that decorates your face. Your eyes are red, puffy from crying, and you must look just downright disgusting. “Whoever it is, it can’t be worth this–”

“It’s you.”

You watch as he freezes completely, color draining from his face. You watch as his mouth drop open, his eyes widen, and his hand goes completely still. It hurts and you start to sob.

“I-I’m sorry.” You babble out, your body wracked by your sobs and every part of you is shaking. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I, I just–”

He doesn’t say anything, he’s just staring at you with those eyes still. He’s not responding. He’s not responding.

You hurt, but you wonder how much he hurts. And it’s because of you. You wish that the curse had just killed you already–

“It’s.. it’s okay.” You breathe, swallowing and taking a deep breath you look up at him and give him a smile. It’s broken, unsteady, and covered in blood. “I– Shoko can remove it. The curse. I won’t have these feelings for you or anyone else, again.”

“What?” He finally says. “Why would you…” He’s breaking in front of you. You smile at him and you’re just trying to push through it, you can’t see how he’s being pulled apart by your words. You don’t see the way his hands shake or the way he swallows with anxiety. You don’t see how frayed he’s becoming.

“It’s okay.”

It’s okay.

“It’s okay, Gojo, I’ll be–”

“How is that okay?!” He doesn’t raise his voice at you, but it’s sharp and direct and cuts you deep. His breathing is frenzied, he doesn't know what to do. “That’s not–” He cuts himself off by grabbing your face, so roughly, with his hands and pulling you forward to smash his lips against yours.

You freeze but he doesn’t, he tries to pour what he can’t say into you with his lips. He only briefly winces at the taste of gore and spit that’s still in your mouth but it doesn’t stop him, he’s trying your lips apart with his tongue and teeth and kissing you hard. You try to push him away but he refuses, he just falls more into you.

“Gojo– stop–”

He doesn’t, his hands hold you in place and he starts to lean over you until he’s almost on top of you. His teeth nip at your lips and his tongue tastes all of you and when he finally pulls back, his lips are coated in blood and spit and you see petals stuck to the corners of his mouth. He tries to go back but you gasp out “Please, stop–”

Gojo whispers your name, questioning and pleading. Your trembling hand goes to wipe the blood off him. “I don’t… want… please, don’t force it–”

Your hand is snatched by him, and you wince at how tight he holds it. “Why are you making that decision?” You’re caught by how fierce his tone is, and how his eyes start to water. “You… you’re giving up on this without even… asking me? Telling me?”

Words are stuck in your throat as you watch the first stream of tears spill down his face and he presses your hand to his lips. “I told you to rely on me.”

“I can’t ask that of you, Gojo.”

“Satoru.” He says before kissing your hand again. And again. “Please.”

You don’t think you can, you don’t think you should, but you manage to whisper it.

“I’m sorry,” and you have to shut your eyes hearing him apologize to you when this is all your fault– “I’m sorry I didn’t realize it sooner.”

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” you mumble. “I don’t want you to be hurt any more than you have.”

He shakes his head and pulls you close so he can press his forehead to yours. “I love you.” He says brokenly and you tremble against him as you both cry. “Losing you would hurt too.”

“I was going to–”

“Losing your love would hurt more.” His palm caresses your face and he nudges you to look at him and he’s so lovely that it hurts and the pain that paints his face hurts you so, so much. “If you stopped loving me, what would I do? Would you still smile at me like you always do? Would you still care for me? Still nag at me to rest, still follow me around, still laugh with me?”

You don’t have an answer.

“It would destroy me, to lose you like that.” He breathes out and his shoulders sag, you realize how tense his body is. “Your love saves me. Please don’t take it away.”

“Satoru…”

“I’m sorry I didn’t realize it sooner. That I love you too.” He smiles, weak. “I should have been the one to confess to you, I should be telling you under fireworks or something cool–”

You sob out at his confession and he’s pulling you into a hug as you cry. “I love you,” he repeats. “I love you. Please let me love you. I’ll tell you every single day so you’ll never doubt it.”

You sit together like that for a while, until you can’t cry anymore and you’re just shaking in his arms. He keeps repeating it to you. I’m sorry. I love you. I’ll tell you every day. I love you. I love you.

“Satoru,” you call out, your voice is hoarse and dry. You feel warm in his embrace, and he rubs soothing circles on your back with his big hands.

“Yeah?” He returns, his voice low and quiet.

“I… love you too. I love you so much.”

When he kisses you after that, you feel a weight in your chest lighten. And when you breathe, you find it’s the first clear breath you’ve had in months.

He looks at you with such warmth and adoration in his eyes and you love the gentle smile that’s on his lips. You let out a tiny laugh, eyes sore and dry from crying.

“I got blood all over you.”

“‘S okay.” He pulls you up with him as he stands, his hands tightly interlaced with yours. “Just help me get cleaned up. And you too. I’d like to kiss you without the taste of blood.”

You feel giddy when he says that. “I like that shy smile, I’m glad I’ll see more of it now.”

He gets to see it all night as he holds and kisses you, and every day afterward when you see him. He never lets your hand go, and he kept very true to his promise.

He tells you every day.

Keep on going, it'll get better soon. Even if you see this or not. There will always be people there for you in life.

What happens once you kill yourself? Because I'm ready to go.

You wanna know what happens once you kill yourself? Your mother comes home from work and finds her baby dead and she screams and runs over to you and tries to get you to wake up but you won’t and she keeps screaming and shaking you and her tears are dripping onto your face and your dad hears all the screaming and runs into the room and he can’t even speak because the child that he loved and the child that he watched grow up is gone forever and finally your little sister runs into the room to see what all the fuss is about and she sees you dead. The person she looked up to and loved. The person she bragged about to  her friends, the person she wanted to be just like when she grew up, the person that made her feel safe. But she’s never really going to get to grow up and smile and laugh and love because she’ll always be consumed with this feeling of missing you. And now there’s something missing from your family and they can barely look at each other anymore because everything reminds them of you but you’re gone and hurts more than anything. and you think that your mom never cared because she was always busy and yelling at you to finish your homework and clean your room and forgot to say I love you sometimes but really, she loved you more than anything and she doesn’t leave the house anymore, she can’t even get out of bed and she’s getting thinner and thinner because it’s too hard to eat. Your father had to quit his job and he doesn’t sleep anymore, every time he closes his eyes he sees his baby dead, and the image never goes away no matter how much alcohol he drinks. And at school your best friend sees that your seat is empty and she gets this sick feeling in her stomach and that’s when she hears the announcement. You killed yourself. And suddenly she’s screaming and crying in the middle of class and no one even bothers comforting because they’re all  busy sitting there staring at your empty seat with tears dripping down their cheeks and all she wants is for you to hug her and tell her it’s gonna be okay like you always did, but this time, you’re not there to do it, everything is dark now that you’re gone and her grades are slipping, she barely goes to school anymore and she ended up in hospital after taking too many pills because she wanted to see you again. the girls who used to make fun of the way you dressed feel their throats get tight, they don’t talk to each other anymore, they don’t talk to anyone, they’re all in therapy trying so hard not to blame themselves but nothing works. and your teacher who always gave you a hard time stares blankly at the wall, she quits her job a few days later. And then your boyfriend hears the news and he can’t breathe, he still calls you a lot just to hear your voice and he talks to you on facebook but you never message him back, he can’t fall in love again because every girl he meets reminds him of you, he’s never going to get over you, he loved you and he cries himself to sleep every night, hating himself and slicing his skin because he couldn’t save you and he’s never going to hold you in his arms or hear you laugh again. Now everyone who knew you, whether they were a big part of your life or someone you passed in the hallway a few times a week, they carry this aching feeling around inside them because you’re gone, and they miss you, and they don’t know why you left but it must’ve been their fault and they should’ve stopped you and they should’ve told you they loved you more and that feeling is never going to go away. And so you killed yourself

but you killed everyone else around you too. 

Marry My Husband

Thank you for a beautiful Series, it's been fun

I just only realised that Mha Season 6 is out or Airing 0v0