baylz

[baylz]

I KNOW YOU

Summary In your unwavering conviction, you didn't dismiss any notion of their absence. How could anyone deem you mad when their presence is undeniable, standing clearly before your eyes?

꒰ঌ𓊿໒꒱ Genre Melodrama, Romance.

꒰ঌ𓊿໒꒱ Additional Content Mature Content, Dark Themes, Murder, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Substance Abuse, Alcoholism, Miscarriages, Different Timelines, Arranged Marriage, Heartbreak, Tragedy, Bittersweet Ending.

꒰ঌ𓊿໒꒱ Pairing Jjk x Fem! Reader ┊ Masterlist

(⠀ྀི❤︎ )⠀𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐂𝐎𝐄𝐔𝐑 𓉣 ⠀ | ( 𐂂 ) 𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐑É𝐒𝐎𝐑 𒈔ٍ⃛

╰ ❝𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑’𝐒 𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓❞ ( 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎 )

꒰ྀི✶꒱ The widower, ensconced in the depths of grief, is immortalized within a painting of profound sorrow. Captured in this somber canvas, is a man with golden locks and eyes laden with unbearable pain, who remains inert in his chair, crystalline vessel of spirits clasped within his grasp. The narrative encircling this evocative opus is steeped in heartrending tragedy. It is said that the man in the painting himself created it, expressing his soul-crushing anguish through his artistry. How could one resist being moved to the marrow by such a scene? “The Widower's Lament,” the title itself reverberates with the resounding echoes of his bereavement. The loss of his cherished wife left him empty, his future erased, for she was the very essence of his being. Can a man ever bear the weight of such guilt, recognizing himself as the unwitting architect of his wife's untimely passing?

“Are you certain this procedure will prove effective?” the man with golden locks queried his confidant.

“Indeed, I assure you. Numerous husbands resort to this method on their spouses. Your wife appeared to be plagued by anxiety and depression, correct? This treatment is tailored for such conditions. We are bestowing a great favor upon our wives.”

It was his final recourse; you were beyond control. With this method, perhaps you can finally regain your senses.

“Are you insane?” you exclaimed, your voice trembling with indignation at your husband's proposal. “You would allow them to mess around with my head?”

“You are out of control. I am doing this for your own good” he replied, his tone flat and unyielding.

You scoffed bitterly, “For my own good? I have just lost our child. Can't you see that I am in mourning?”

At this, the other man rose abruptly from his chair, nearly overturning it in his haste. “Yes, but how long will this period of grief endure? You are beginning to act unhinged, and I fear for your sanity. This treatment could restore your peace of mind and your equilibrium. Don’t you see? I’m desperate to see you well again, to reclaim some semblance of normalcy in our lives.” You could see the strain etched on his face, the furrow in his brow, the tight line of his lips. Yet, his lack of understanding only deepened your despair.

“You think this will help me? Subjecting me to such invasive procedures? You believe this is the solution to my grief?” You paused, your voice breaking. “You can't just rush grief, why can't you understand?”

He sighed, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the situation. “I'm not going to discuss this anymore. My decision is final.”

The room fell silent, the tension palpable as you both stood on the precipice of an uncertain future.

“Very well. But do not come to regret this later, once the consequences have unfolded.”

He was cautioned, not just once, but repeatedly. How could he even lay claim to the title of a man? He is naught but a wretch, who chose to consign his wife to such abominable treatment instead of supporting her in her time of mourning. Now, you existed as a mere semblance of your former self, a hollow echo of the vibrant spirit you once embodied. He, the responsible for this agony, this torment, had wrought your destruction. He had shattered the woman he professed to love. Love? Ha! If his love were genuine, he would have spared you this ordeal, shielded you from such affliction. Who can fathom the depths of the horrors you endured? What's the use of crying, and pleading? He has done this to you, and there was no way back.

Nanami Kento, a figure held in high regard by multitudes, seemingly possessed of all, enjoying the pinnacle of success. An ideal occupation, a revered social circle, a perfect-flawless life. But what good is such a life when you're not truly present in it?

He clasps your hand delicately in his own, bestowing tender kisses upon its back. “My dear you look radiant today.” You were there, yet not wholly so. No amount of his tears or prayers could ever resurrect you to the person you once were.

He vividly recalls the day he sought your hand, a memory etched in his mind like a scene from a dream. You adorned a resplendent white floral gown, the evening breeze whimsically lifting its delicate folds as if in playful homage to your enchanting presence. You, a vision of unparalleled beauty, radiated grace and allure that seemed otherworldly. How could he, in his folly, shatter your essence, brimming with vitality and aspirations, all for the sake of his own selfish desires?

“Please, find it in your heart to forgive me.” He implores, beseeching a woman whose consciousness drifts farther from the realms of reality with each passing moment. He knows he must seek redemption for his transgressions, yet fate, in its cruel irony, has torn you from his grasp.

“Till death do us part.” He vowed, but death arrived far too soon. Now he seeks refuge in the embrace of alcohol, drowning his sorrows in its numbing depths, condemned to a lifetime of inebriation and despair.

⎯⎯ ‎“The Widower's Lament,” was born from the deft strokes of Nanami Kento's brush in 1939. Merely five days later, its artist passed away from an intentional overdose.

At present, you were standing before the painting with a newfound sense of solemnity, having learned the story behind its creation. “Nanami Kento.” You muse aloud, your voice tinged with reflection, “What regret can do to a man.”

As the night descended, sleep eluded you, enveloping you in its restless embrace. The hours stretched on and slumber remained elusive, you reluctantly abandoned your bed, seeking solace in the simple act of fetching water to quiet the storm of thoughts raging within your mind. Wandering through the labyrinthine corridors, you were startled to discover a room aglow with soft light, Bewildered by the illumination, for you had no recollection of leaving any lights on. Upon reaching the room, your bewilderment turned to astonishment as you beheld a sight that defied rational explanation. Before you stood the very man from the painting as if he had stepped out from the confines of his canvas.

Adorned with a serene smile, his eyes shimmering with a depth of emotion, he gazed upon you with an unmistakable longing. “Darling, we meet again.”

Transfixed by the surreal encounter, you could only watch in stunned silence as he drew near, enveloping you in an embrace. “Allow me to fix the errors of my past.”

Have you finally lost your mind?

“I should have been there to support you through your sorrow. I'm sorry for letting you endure such pain on your own. Allow me the chance to atone for my mistakes, even though I know I don't deserve your forgiveness.”

His touch felt so vividly real that you couldn't help but lean into it, drawn by the almost tangible sensation.

𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇: (1) Complications Of Lobotomy (2) Drug Overdose

𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄: The Great Depression (1930’s)

──𑁍──𑁍─𖥸─𑁍──𑁍──

╰ ❝𝐄𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐑❞ ( 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 )

꒰ྀི✶꒱ Geto Suguru, was a venerable general celebrated for his countless victories on behalf of his nation, also presided over the royal guards with unerring dedication. “Echoes Of Valor” is a painting commemorating his relentless dedication to triumph and his unwavering loyalty to his people. In this portrait, he stands resolutely, adorned in his regal uniform, sword in hand. Little did anyone know, this portrait would be his last homage. Two years hence, a revolution erupted within his country, marking a tumultuous turn in its history.

Today, I now stand to accept my alleged punishment. For the sins I hath been accused of, though I swear upon mine innocence. I labored tirelessly to raise our nation from destitution. Despite my efforts, my people failed to recognize my noble intentions. From the moment I wed the king, I faced scorn and rejection, but I stood firm. I hath striven to end the suffering of mine people, yet in the end, I bore the blame. I hath ever sought to hearken unto the needs of the people, and now, I shall do so by permitting them to behead me this day. My people, I come here to meet my end with sincerity and humility, eternally bearing my unwavering devotion.

“The whore queen, who isn't hast nothing but bringeth us ruins, betraying our trusteth. But anon we shall 'rase the monarchy once and for all!”

“Why must you marry him?” Suguru's voice trembled with desperation as he posed the question, his eyes pleading for an answer that would assuage the torment gnawing at his heart.

“I must. It is my duty.” You responded with a sense of solemn obligation, your words weighed down by the burden of duty that lay heavy upon your shoulders.

“It doesn't have to be this way,” Suguru implored. “I will soon be the leader of the royal guards, I possess considerable power and influence. I can offer you a life of comfort and security.”

You dismissed his word, with sorrow lacing in your voice. “my loyalty lies with the kingdom and its people. I cannot turn away from the responsibility entrusted to me as their future queen.”

Oh, how fervently he wishes to curse the prince for casting his covetous eyes upon you. Yet he knows he cannot, for his unwavering loyalty to his country binds him, even when the edicts are unjust. Now, you are destined to wed the prince, the future King. You have been chosen, and there is nothing to be done but to resign yourself to this fate, even though your heart belongs to another.

“My king, we must address this matter; otherwise, I fear it will only worsen.” You implored your husband. But he refused to heed your plea.

“I will hear no more of this. There are more urgent matters that require our attention.” He declared, storming off and leaving you in a state of despair.

Even as Queen, your influence was limited if you could not address matters with your husband. It felt futile in the end, as he dismissed anything beyond his own concerns. War and the acquisition of wealth consumed the King's attention, leaving the needs of the people neglected. You strove to make a difference, even if your efforts went unrecognized by those you sought to aid.

Before this life of opulence, you were once a commoner, intimately acquainted with the hardships faced by those who toiled daily just to survive. Now, you felt helpless, ensnared in a life where you could do nothing to save those around you.

In your youth, your heart was ensnared by a man with locks as dark as midnight, and a smile so luminous it almost blinded you. He was the son of a royal guard, and you often wondered what drew him to you. Perhaps it was love at first sight, for he seemed to fall for you completely and without reservation.

Beneath the canopy of the night, as the stars cast their shimmering light upon you both, his gaze locked with yours in an unspoken understanding as if he could fathom the depths of your soul.

“It pains me to witness you bearing this burden alone.” He confessed, his voice a whisper against the tranquil night. “I loathe that you are held accountable for circumstances beyond your control. Oh, how I yearn to whisk you away from all of this. To a place where I could claim you as my own, to wed you and make you my wife.”

Indeed, it was your most fervent desire—to prolong the sweet caress of your lover's lips, to remain nestled in his embrace for eternity, to proudly declare him yours. But alas, life's cruel hand denied such desires, for such a wish could never be fulfilled.

Rumors began to swirl around you, dark whispers branding you as the “Whore Queen,” accusing you of adultery. You cannot think of how you were seen despite being careful in seeing Suguru in your late-night encounters.

Two years later, a revolution ignited in your country. You had always sensed that upheaval was inevitable, but you had not anticipated its arrival so soon. The storm of rebellion was upon you, sweeping through the land with a force that could not be quelled. Your husband did not back down; instead, he remained steadfast on his throne, resolutely denying the sins he had committed. His unyielding stance only fueled the flames of discontent.

Then, your future was abruptly cut short when they imprisoned you and proclaimed your sentence: death by the guillotine. The finality of their judgment hung over you like a dark cloud, casting a pall of despair as you faced the inexorable reality of your fate.

Your husband abandoned you and escaped but was soon caught by the hands of his people. Your execution was scheduled for the day before his. At last, you were granted your final words. “Those who knew me know that I tried my best to be the best ruler I could. Please forgive me for not being able to protect you all.” With that, you knelt before your people, bidding them farewell with one last noble act.

Once the news of your execution echoed across the country, Suguru was consumed by disbelief. He couldn't fathom that he hadn't been able to intervene in time, to help you escape from the jaws of fate.

The weight of his regret bore down upon him, a burden he would carry for the remainder of his days. And so, when he took up arms against the revolutionaries, he did so with a fervent determination to atone for his perceived failure.

Yet, in the eyes of the revolutionaries, his valiant stand was seen not as redemption but as treachery. Branded a traitor to the nation, Suguru fought on, undeterred by the accusations hurled against him.

And in the end, he fell under the barrage of enemy fire.

“Echoes Of Valor” stands as a captivating masterpiece within the halls of the country's most visited attraction, a beacon drawing countless visitors to its storied embrace. As your group embarked on a guided tour, the illustrious tale of General Suguru Geto and his clandestine romance with the last queen of the country unfolded before you, recounted by the knowledgeable guide.

Amidst the murmurs of your companions, you found yourself lingering, transfixed by the portrait of the revered general. His penetrating gaze seemed to reach out to you, stirring a sense of inexplicable familiarity, as though you had encountered those piercing eyes in a distant memory.

Lost in contemplation, time seemed to blur as you stood in silent communion with the painted visage. Slowly emerging from the reverie, you turned to rejoin your group, only to find yourself startled as the figure of the general materialized before you, clad in the resplendent attire of his era, his sword gripped firmly in hand.

In that suspended moment, uncertainty gripped your senses. Should you succumb to panic, flee from the apparition, or dare to entertain the possibility that you were not entirely ensnared by madness?

Suddenly, he descended to one knee, his hand placed solemnly upon his chest. “We meet again, my Queen.” He murmured, his voice a reverent whisper echoing through the empty space.

He extended his hand towards you, a silent invitation waiting for your response. In a moment of inexplicable impulse, you reached out, your hand meeting his in a delicate union. In that fleeting touch, an invisible bond seemed to ignite, drawing you inexorably closer.

Whispers of tender endearments escaped his lips, carrying the weight of longing and affection as he held you close. Without hesitation, you both surrendered to the rhythm of an unseen melody, bodies moving in synchrony as if choreographed by destiny itself. Each step, each twirl, felt like a culmination of ages of yearning, a dance of souls reunited at last.

Amidst the intoxicating whirl of the dance, a glimmer of reality intruded—his form, cast no reflection, a silent testament to the otherworldly nature of your encounter.

Yet, in his arms, you felt no fear, only an overwhelming sense of belonging.

𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇: (1) Behead by Guillotine (2) Shot to Death

𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄: 18th Century

──𑁍──𑁍─𖥸─𑁍──𑁍──

╰ ❝𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐋 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆❞ ( 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 )

꒰ྀི✶꒱ “All Hail To The King” is a painting from the depths of the Late Middle Ages, a tableau capturing the essence of a bygone era. At its center, enthroned amidst opulent regalia, sits King Gojo Satoru, the illustrious monarch who reigned over his kingdom from 1343 to 1350. Until his untimely passing, succumbing to poison in the year 1350. Gojo Satoru, a monarch renowned for his indomitable triumphs, presided over an era steeped in resilience and fortitude, particularly amidst the ravages of the bubonic plague. As the deadly scourge swept relentlessly across the continent, claiming countless lives in its wake, his kingdom stood as a bastion of steadfastness and unwavering resolve. Through his leadership, Gojo Satoru guided his people navigating them through the darkest of times.

At the tender age of twenty, Gojo Satoru found himself thrust into a position of immense responsibility upon the untimely passing of his father. While burdened with grief, he also grappled with a deep-seated fear—the fear of not measuring up to the illustrious legacy left by his father's rule.

As the weight of expectation bore down upon his shoulders, he questioned whether he could ever truly become the leader his people needed in their hour of need. Faced with weighty decisions and daunting challenges, Gojo Satoru leaned upon the collective wisdom of his advisors, carefully considering their counsel before taking action.

At the age of twenty-one, Gojo Satoru found himself ensnared in the intricate web of royal expectations, criticized for the absence of a queen by his side. Countless maidens from across the kingdom were presented before him, each vying for the coveted position of consort to the monarch. Yet, despite the array of choices laid before him, Gojo Satoru found himself unable to commit to a decision. Caught between tradition and his own indecision, The King grappled with the weight of expectation, yearning to find a companion who would not only bear the title of queen but would also be a steadfast partner in the journey ahead.

In the sanctuary of his chamber, bathed in the soft glow of a solitary candle, the king found respite in the art of journaling. With each stroke of the quill, he poured his innermost thoughts onto the parchment, the ink flowing like a river of emotion.

Lost in the depths of his musings, he wrote with a fervor that bordered on desperation, as though each word penned were a fleeting attempt to capture the essence of his soul. Yet, amid his introspection, the king was abruptly interrupted by a faint but insistent knock at his chamber door. Startled from his reverie, he set aside his quill.

“Enter thee forthwith.”

“My lord, here are the papers thou requested.” Proclaimed a feminine voice.

“I thank thee greatly.” He replied, he turned to accept the documents, his gaze froze upon the captivating visage of the servant before him. In her beauty, she possessed an allure, unlike any maiden he had encountered in many months.

Before the servant could take her leave, the king swiftly intervened, his voice betraying a hint of urgency. “Pray, tell me thy name.”

The woman bowed in deference, her movements graceful and respectful. “(Y/N), my lord.”

From that fateful day forward, the king's thoughts were consumed by your presence. He found himself inexplicably drawn to you.

With newfound awareness, the king sought out your presence within the castle. He found himself increasingly eager for the chance to converse with you once more.

A friendship blossomed between the king and you, deepening with each shared moment. One day, he invited you into his study, eager to explore your literary treasures after learning of your ability to read and write.

Together, they delved into the realms of literature, exchanging thoughts and insights, their discussions weaving a tapestry of shared understanding and mutual respect.

Through laughter and contemplation, both of you forged a bond that defied the boundaries of their respective roles.

As the days turned into weeks and weeks into months, it became increasingly evident to the king that his feelings for you had evolved beyond mere friendship. One day, as they were reunited, a palpable tension hung in the air, and he found himself unable to resist the pull of his emotions.

He reached out and gently clasped your hand in his.

“My lord?”

Caught in the grip of emotions he could no longer deny, the king hesitated for a moment before finding the courage to speak. “(Y/N), I can deny it no longer—I have fallen deeply, irrevocably in love with you.”

How could this be? A king confessing his feelings so fervently to a lowly servant like yourself.

“Grant me the honor of marrying thee, to stand beside thee for all eternity, to cherish and protect thee for the span of our days.”

“How could I ever deny such a request, even if I feel unworthy of being the king's wife?”

But before happiness could fully take root, grim tidings swept through the kingdom like a dark shadow. News spread like wildfire of a deadly plague that was sweeping across the land, claiming the lives of countless souls in its relentless grasp. They called it the Black Death, a dread scourge that struck fear into the hearts of all who heard its name.

The first thought that consumed Satoru's mind was your safety. With the ominous specter of the Black Death looming over the kingdom, he resolved to protect you at all costs. He swiftly ordered that you be relieved of your previous duties in the kitchen and other land tasks, fearing that exposure to the disease would jeopardize your well-being.

As the days wore on, the dread toll of the Black Death continued to mount, casting a pall of despair over the once-bustling streets. The rates of infection soared ever higher, and the stench of death hung heavy in the air.

Satoru felt powerless in the face of such an overwhelming tragedy. No amount of wealth or authority could stem the tide of death that swept through the land.

In the late hours of the night, with the palace shrouded in a hushed stillness, Satoru waited anxiously in his chambers for your return. As you entered, his tall figure rose from his seat, casting a commanding presence in the dimly lit room.

“Where have you been?” He demanded, his voice carrying a tone of concern that betrayed his worry.

“Satoru, I...” You began, but her words faltered as he swiftly placed his hand upon her body, searching for any sign of injury or distress. “I am well, I pray thee, believe me.”

Despite your reassurances, Satoru couldn't shake the lingering worry that gnawed at his heart.

“Wherefore is (Y/N)?” He inquired, his tone tinged with concern.

One of the servants, head bowed low in deference, responded “My lord, (Y/N) hath been sequestered in a separate chamber, for it seemeth she may have been afflicted with the disease.”

Dread swelled within him at the tidings. How could this be? The mere thought of you succumbing to the plague filled him with a sense of helplessness and despair.

What frustrated him most was the knowledge that he was not allowed to see you, to embrace you, to hold you one more time before you departed.

Until he was informed of your passing in your sleep. His heart cried out, and continued to cry, the thought of you departing this world alone, without him by your side, tore at his soul. He grieved deeply for a long time, his sorrow seeming unending. Yet, even in the depths of his grief, he knew that you wouldn't want him to linger in sorrow forever. You were that selfless. So he resolved to carry on, to rule and honor your memory as best he could, by not marrying anyone else, ruling his kingdom alone.

However, fate had other plans. Blinded by his grief, he became vulnerable, and ultimately fell victim to the vengeful act of a servant who poisoned him.

Thus, his reign met its end in the year 1350, abruptly concluded three years before the scourge of the Black Death finally ceased its relentless rampage.

Lately, your head has been filled with dreams of a time-long era, a realm straight out of the pages of a fantasy novel. These dreams feel vivid as if you've been transported to a world you once inhabited. While engrossed in reading medieval literature for a history assignment, you find yourself succumbing to drowsiness. Seeking respite, you rest beneath the shade of a towering tree on campus, drifting into a slumber.

As you awaken, you're greeted by the sight of mesmerizing sapphire eyes, gazing deeply into yours. A strikingly handsome man lies beside you, his smile illuminating the surroundings. With a gentle gesture, he brushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear, drawing closer.

“I have longed for your presence.” He whispers, his voice carrying an otherworldly charm that resonates within your soul. You're enveloped by a profound sense of familiarity and belonging.

He leans in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that transcends reality. It feels as though the barriers between worlds have dissolved, leaving only the genuine warmth of his embrace and the intoxicating sweetness of the moment.

𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇: (1) Death by Bubonic Plague (2) Poisoned

𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄: 14th Century ( Late medieval period )

Author's Note, So basically you died in different timelines and they refused to reincarnate so they stayed as ghosts trapped in paintings. I had this draft for a while and I really liked how it turned out 🙌🏻, thanks for reading !!

All rights reserved © 2024 𝐈𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐌. Please do not copy, rewrite, or translate my works on any other platform. Dividers and Pngs made by me.

[baylz]

[baylz]

I love them both.

This is my today's contribution to society. Have a good one.

[baylz]

what could've been

IN WHICH: Nanami is your dad

father!nanami x daughter!reader

word count: 389

song to play: my girl by the temptations

warnings: father daughter banter, sappy shit

a/n: haven't written in a while so here you go!

╴╴╴╴╴ ⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴╴╴⊹˚ ╴╴╴╴˚ೃ ╴╴╴╴ ⊹ꮺ˚

father!nanami: who cradles you in his arms and promises you the world when you first enter it.

father!nanami: who films every second of your childhood to cherish.

father!nanami: who immedately jumps out of bed once you tell him you’re not feeling well. “daddy this medicine is nasty” “I’ll give you some honey to get rid of the taste”

father!nanami: who is the first one to rush over to you the minute you fall. Lifting you up and murmuring “it’s okay sweetie. you’re okay.”

father!nanami: who leaves work early to attend the daddy daughter dance at your school. “am i pretty daddy?” “very pretty sweetie.”

father!nanami: who always lets you sleep with him when you have a nightmare.

father!nanami: who takes you out on ice cream dates to make up for his time away from you because of work.

father!nanami: who, during your boy phase in your preteen years, grew very wary of the boy you talked to at school whenever he came to pick you up. “dad don’t glare at him like that.” “you’d do well in homeschooling”

father!nanami: who was shitting the bricks the first he was teaching you how to drive. “stop nagging! i swear you love this car more than me.” “I do.”

father!nanami: who hugs you so tight and watches your favorite movies with you after your first heartbreak. softly caressing your hair while listening to you pour out your feelings. “men suck!” “yes, yes they do, sweetie.”

father!nanami: who still carries you to bed whenever you fall asleep on the couch no matter how old you get.

father!nanami: who smiles fondly at you the first time he sees you in your prom dress, taking as many pictures of you as possible. “one more.” “you said that 10 pictures ago!"

father!nanami: who swivels around in his office chair like a vilian when you get home late from said prom. “I’ve been expecting you.” “you’re so weird.”

father!nanami: who gets secretly emotional when packing your things to go off to college. “are you crying?” “tears of joy, yes” “sure dad…”

father!nanami: who hugs you one last time before you’re off to your dream school, kissing your temple so tenderly. “i love you. be safe.” “i love you too dad.”

╴╴╴╴╴ ⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴╴╴⊹˚ ╴╴╴╴˚ೃ ╴╴╴╴ ⊹ꮺ˚

@baylz please do not copy, translate, or repost any of my works onto other platforms!!

#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk nanami #nanami kento #jujutsu nanami #nanami fluff #jujutsu kaisen nanami #father and daughter

[baylz]

O SOL E A LUA

k. kazuha

kazuha x fem!reader 🎀

"the sun and the moon." where two star-crossed lovers gaze upon with stars with one another. no distractions, no barriers, just each other.

lowercase intended

word count: 646

content: star-crossed lovers, angst, short drabble, fluff if you squint, hidden relationship

what is the definition of love?

love is to have an intense feeling of deep affection, for someone or something. it's a bond that deepens the connection you have with another and are able to understand each other boundlessly.

when you love someone, all you want to do is be with said person.

they infiltrate your thoughts, your mind, and your heart. then maybe in the end, you'll get a happily ever after.

but for y/n and kazuha, it was not the case.

though they loved each other deeply, it will never be meant to be. no matter how hard they tried, no matter how hard they fought, no matter what lifetime.

it was never, and will never, be meant to be.

however, they still try. the doomed couple laid upon the itchy grass, gazing up at the millions of stars stretched across the galaxy.

the soft sounds of their breath correlating with each other and waves crashing below them were the only noises that could be heard excluding the occasional wind and buzzing insects.

the two hadn't spoken in a quite a bit. they decided that soft, intimate touches were enough to fill the solace moment.

“you know, we are kind of like the sun and the moon.” kazuha spoke, his voice croaky from have going so long without speaking.

it was so sudden. y/n looked over at him to meet his eyes, but his red orbs were still locked onto the sky.

“what makes you say that?” y/n asked.

kazuha softly looked over at her as their eyes finally met, his filled with admiration and hers mirroring his.

“well.. it makes sense, doesn't it?” he responded. kazuha inched himself impossibly closer to y/n, wanting to practically stitch his skin with hers so they'd never be apart again. “have you heard the tale of the sun and the moon?”

she nodded as she played with the hand that kazuha placed softly on her face. “they loved each other. but because of their differences, they can't be together.” she replied.

kazuha sighed. “we are the reincarnation of the sun and the moon. born to be apart, but made to love each other.” his eyebrows furrowed in sorrow, then the two broke eye contact to look upon the stars once again.

it sucked. being so infatuated with one person but knowing the odds of you being together are from 1 to 100.

it physically hurt. the type of hurt that makes you clench your chest to make the pain stop, but nothing would ever make it go away.

“but what about the eclipse?”

“huh?” kazuha muttered.

“the solar eclipse.” y/n repeated as she sat up because the itchy grass was finally becoming a bother. “when the sun and the moon finally meet. it doesn't last for long, but it's finally their time to be together.”

kazuha smiled. it was a bittersweet smile, but it still managed to light up y/n's glossy moonlit eyes.

“hopefully one day we'll become the eclipse. i will count the days until we meet again, even if it's for an eternity.”

their foreheads barely grazed each other's as they stared lovingly into one another's eyes. both of them glossed over; not of sadness, but with a sense of serendipity.

maybe this was meant to happen. maybe there was a reason that the universe didn't want them to stay together.

“so.. until our eclipse?”

“.. yes, my love. until our eclipse.”

y/n and kazuha knew. they knew they'd never get their happily ever after. but that didn't matter at this moment.

what mattered is that they had each other now. although if it's not for long, they're able to love each other deeply.

even if it's just for now.

@rrinkyoo please do not copy, translate, or repost any of my works onto other platforms!

[baylz]

I've been thinking about Nanami as Mr.Darcy so I made this. I think I will draw some scenes from the 2005 version.

[baylz]

🔴&🔵 and march is no longer no draw month yay

[baylz]

THE WARMTH OF US

s. gojo

gojo x fem!reader 🎀

the first rays of sunlight beamed through the curtains of the bedroom. it was a gentle reminder to seize the day and be productive. but satoru and his wife find themselves in a sweet entanglement, too full of each other to get out of bed.

lowercase intended

word count: 394

content: established relationship, fluff, suggestive themes but no smut short drabble

it was the early hours of the morning. the only sounds heard was the wind softly gushing through the cracked window and the chatter of children making their way to school.

by this time, either satoru or y/n would've been up by now. either making breakfast or getting changed to start the day. but neither of them wanted to leave the comfort of one another.

however, they never got up.

the plush of the blankets and pillows were just too comforting. and the air was infused with a sense of tranquil and a haven of serenity. the couple of 5 years intertwined their limbs together, satoru softly caressed her face and y/n softly played with his hair. the coldness of their wedding bands could've made anyone flinch, butthey didn't care.

“you're so beautiful.” he muttered quietly, but loud enough for her to hear. a small but tired smile climbed onto her face while she nuzzled herself impossibly closer to him.

y/n tugged his hair gently and massaged his scalp. “hm, really? i just woke up though.”

satoru pouted and shook his head, his white hair falling in front of his eyes. “that doesn't matter. you're always beautiful to me.”

he grabs her waist and pushes himself closer to her, leaving small trails of kisses down her exposed neck. their naked bodies were pressed up against each other, still unclothed from the night before.

“we need to get up soon. we have work.” y/n reminded him and satoru groaned, rubbing a hand on his forehead as he was remember that he was an adult and has responsibilities.

“5 more minutes?”

“baby, you said 5 more minutes an hour ago.”

he sat up and lifted her onto his lap, tucking her head into the crook of his neck. “just 5 more.”they once again wrap themselves in each other's warm embrace. the sun now brightly shining in the room, carrying a subtle, comforting scent of familiarity.

maybe it was the tiredness that was getting to them, but they both wanted to melt into each other's skin, and stay there for an eternity.

“hey, y/n?”

“yeah?”

“i love you.”

he presses his forehead against hers and gives her a soft kiss. she smiles as her eyes glisten with joy.

“i love you too.”

@rrinkyoo please do not copy, translate, or repost any of my works onto other platforms!

[baylz]

THE WHEEZE I WHOOZED

In canon Nanami is 26. HES YOUNG.

he’s also DEAD so excuse my feigned ignorance over the canon

[baylz]

You’ve heard of one shots, now get ready for none shots! It’s when you think of an idea for a fic and then don’t write it

[baylz]

Nanami owning a “husband of the year” mug is all that’s been eating away at my brain.

part 1 of the fic

[baylz]

nanami kento, who hates dating, and didn’t do much of it in his early twenties. but now, he’s almost thirty, watching all the people he works with settle down, have kids, and he thinks he wants that. so he might as well try.

so satoru sets him up on a few dates — friends of friends, he calls them. and at the end of every one of the dinners, kento goes home empty, exhausted, because he knows what they want is not the same.

still; he thinks maybe he’s being a little self-destructive, maybe too picky, maybe he just got so used to being alone. with satoru’s insistence, he gives all the women another call, invites them over to his apartment.

the first time was a disaster… kento had barely set the dinner on the table before his cat had hissed at her, scratched her down the arm in a thin gash. and though it did draw blood, it was hardly enough to warrant that reaction.

he didn’t even try to stop her as she picked up her bag and left, huffing like she’d been morally offend. kento, though, could only smile to himself in amusement.

because maybe kento was a poor judge of character, a man who was secretly hoping nothing would pan out — but his cat could certainly tell the good from the bad.

it became a little game to him, after that. seeing if anyone could win his pet over, and if they could, perhaps they were the one. his darling animal was a fickle thing anyway. a bit too defensive, quick to bite anything threatening after years on the streets.

naturally, no one came back twice.

he was close to giving up, accepting his solitude because he was tired of empty conversations over dinner. but then, he ventured out over the weekend to a new coffee shop, during hours he normally didn’t spend out of his home, and met you.

though you only talked for a moment, kento felt like maybe he’d known you in a past life. a part of him thought maybe it was strange, the way he kept coming back to talk to you, catching you at the end of your shift to see if you wanted to grab a coffee sometime.

by the second date, kento started to think you could turn out to be his best friend.

by the third date, kento wondered if soulmates were real.

on the fourth date, almost two months later, an appropriate time to get to know someone when you were as reserved as kento, he invited you over for dinner. it was, perhaps, the final confirmation he needed to let himself be with you.

he let you through the door, smiling softly as you told him about the book you were reading, and hung his coat on the rack. a moment later, you stopped, distracted, hands covering your mouth in a gasp.

“kento! she’s the cutest cat i’ve ever seen, you didn’t even show me pictures!” you exclaim, and, a few feet away, crouched down. “look at her pretty eyes…”

“careful,” kento said, “she’s not very—“

but the cat approached your outstretched hand, sniffed once, before letting you scratch her under her chin, purring loud enough for kento to hear across the room.

“shes such a sweetheart, you told me she was mean!” you smiled, making a cooing noise as you threaded your fingers through her fur. “kento’s a liar, isn’t he… you’re so precious.”

a few moments later, she snapped her jaw at you in a biting motion, and you only laughed, withdrawing your hand. “alright, i get it, i won’t bother you anymore.”

though she still brushed against your legs, just as she did kento’s, and seemed to communicate some sort of message to him.

“do you want any help cooking?” you ask, tucking your hair behind your ears. “i’m a disaster in the kitchen, but—“

“sure,” kento said, his chest tightening as he blinked back at you, only in his apartment for minutes and already looking as at home there. he wondered if it was possible to fall in love so quickly. “but only if you want to.”

[baylz]

[baylz]

Nanami Kento who didn’t believe in love until he met you, he was so deep into his work that he didn’t believe another human could matter. Until you came in with a laugh like honey and eyes that were big and bright and never seemed to stop shining. Nanami knew that love had to exist, because you were so full of it and he knew he wanted to fill you with more.

Nanami Kento who spent his lunch breaks with you because he wouldn’t dare spend a full nine hours without seeing your smile.

Nanami Kento who smiles a little more everyday because he now has you.

[baylz]

Nanami coming home from a stressful day at work and reader taking care of him( like giving him a bath and feeding him and cuddling with him)

👨

໒꒱ ₊˚ ‘ STRESS-FREE﹒⺡ NANAMI KENTO. ’

sum. gn! reader, fluff, washing nanami’s hair, cuddles, workaholic nanami, spoilin nanami bc he deserves it.

it’d be a quarter past five-ish—that’s when the door opens, a drowsy nanami.

he drags his feet against the floor yet a small smile makes its way across his lips the moment he spots you near the kitchen.

“hi kento,” you’d say, trodding towards him before bringing him into a hug. strong arms hold you back, and he smelled so good. a whiff of his signature cologne wafts back against your face, and he lets off a small sigh. “how was work?”

“work was work, baby,” he replies, stroking your back gently… it was always so tender and relaxing whenever he did that. you look up, your chin pressing against his chest before he brings a thumb to stroke your cheek. “don’t worry, ‘m fine. just …. a little tired, ‘s all.”

“i think i know just what you need,” you mutter, and with sleepy half-lidded eyes, nanami raises a brow the moment you lock your fingers with his. within moments later. he’s being dragged by you towards the bathroom, already seeing a warm bubble bath prepared just for him and only him.

“sweetheart, i love you but i can bathe myself you know?” nanami says, a mere flustered expression on his face.

it was cute.

nanami was sat in the bathtub, stripped from his clothing with soft suds coating all over his slightly hairy chest. he speaks with softness, that look of drowsiness never leaving him.

he was prone to overworking himself all the time, sometimes without even realizing it. it was the least you could do.

“you’ve been working all day,” you utter, sitting near the edge of the tub. he leans back against the wall, hair gently ruffled and all. “i wanna take care of you, don’t be so stubborn.”

“hm. i’m not being stubborn,” he cracks a smile with a sly head shake. “i just figured you’d have better things to spend your time with, my love.”

the petnames he’d always call you, it filled your heart up with a plethora of emotions. you find yourself questioning how you’d even get lucky with a guy as him.

nanami, as much of a hard working man he was… he deserved the world and more, without question.

you lean up close to him, kissing his cheek. “it’s not like i find this boring, kento. besides, you’ve been out all day. think it’s time for a hair wash.”

“not again,” he playfully sulks, relaxing his arms as he watches you get up to grab the materials. you adored the playful side of him. he sits up, stretching his arms out over the edges of the tub. he intakes a single breath, the warm water perfectly surrounded him, he didn’t feel as tense as before. “mhmm, but alright.”

once you gather up his shampoo and conditioner, you kneel down. whilst making nanami face the other way, he lets off a soft sigh the minute your fingers make contact with his scalp.

“i missed you,” you softly hum, swiftly allowing your fingertips to run through his roots. nanami grows quiet as you speak. after all, your voice was forever his favorite thing to listen to. “actually, while i took a nap earlier i had a dream about you.”

“do tell me more, sweetheart,” nanami breathes, leaning right into your touch. your hands, gingerly running through his thin blond strands, scrubbing through his scalp, he simpers. “i wanna hear more about this dream.”

“welllll,” you sung, flicking off the shampoo cap. it was a loud ‘pop’ — and while you poured about a size of a quarter of it into your hand, you started to massage his scalp again. “call me cheesy, but i had a dream that you proposed to me.”

nanami goes quiet again, and then he softly smiles to himself.

“oh…? you dreamed about me proposing to you, hm?” and then the thought abruptly hit him. as you dug your fingertips into his hair tenderly, he leans his wet hair back against your chest. “… how do you feel about marriage? i’ve always wanted to know your stand on that.”

“i’m not opposed to it,” you whisper, making sure to pay close attention to his roots. nanami’s hair was so soft—every few seconds, he lets off a near purr at the way your fingers skim beneath his undercut.

he’d probably never flat out admit it, but he always treasured things like this. simple things like washing his hair, feeding him, anything.

you make him lean his head down for a more thorough reach before you smile. “i can see myself getting married one day.”

without even thinking, nanami murmurs, “did you… did you accept my proposal at least in your dream?”

after a few quiet seconds, you shyly smile. “i did.”

“you did,” he repeats with a soft nod, and it’s as if he’s deep in thought … pondering exactly what to say next.

nanami lets off a calm sigh at the feeling of you starting to rinse out his hair. your fingers were gentle, softly kneading through his scalp. you made sure to not miss a single spot, and he lefts off another hum. “ah, well. what if i told you a little secret, sweetheart?”

“hm?” you’d raise your brows, getting up to grab a dry towel. going back towards nanami, you squeeze out the very left remnants of excess water in his hair. vigorously rubbing it, you allow the towel to soak up and absorb the moisture. “tell me what, kento?”

he leans back against the tub, stretching his arms over the edges yet again. “c’mere.”

you wondered what he was planning, you have a mere simper playing against your lips before you get closer towards him. nanami stares at you through his peripherals with a gentle smile.

yet … once you get close, he pulls you into the water. you let off a surprised squeak once he catches you in his chest, your clothes now damp and practically sodden.

“k-kento! why’d you—”

“i wanna marry you,” he cuts you off, and the only thing that departs from your lips at that current moment was a sweet gasp. your breath got stolen from you, quite literally.

he had you pulled right into his bare, slightly hairy chest — well trimmed, and you suddenly got flushed from being so close to him like this. “i always hear you talking about settling down, and i wouldn’t mind letting you take my last name, my love.”

a few seconds pass, and your expression was so cute.

your eyebrows tug into a furrow before your wet chin presses against his abdomen. “i wanna marry you too, but you didn’t have to get me wet, kento.”

“sorry,” he chuckles, pressing a single kiss on the top of your forehead. “i just missed touching you, i like wrapping my arms around you,” and then he grins. “wait, did you just say you’d marry me too?”

nanami watches the abashed expression creep onto your face, its adorable. a single finger of his strokes your back before he leans in to kiss the tip of your nose.

“y-yes,” and your voice was soft, your heart raced the more he stared at you with nothing but the most kindest eyes. “i wanna marry you, kento.”

“let’s get married right here.” he utters, holding you close. he gives your frame that he held tightly a gentle squeeze.

“married … in the bathtub?”

“why not?” he hums, he was obviously teasing, but he got another smile out of you. nanami was so head over heels for you already, he can’t help but pepper a plethora of kisses all over your face. “mwah,” he kisses near your cheek, “mwah,” near your the side of your mouth, and “mwah,” he ends off with a quick kiss on your lips.

the look you had was so precious, he strokes a thumb against your cheek before speaking in a calm raspy voice.

“thank you for doing this for me though, my love,” and he stares into your eyes intently, gingerly rubbing his thumb against your glossed lips. “i don’t feel as stressed anymore from work. don’t know what i’d do without you.”

“you’re welcome kento,” you mumble—sitting up from his chest, he smirks, watching you hold out your arms before pouting. “my pajamas are drenched though, thanks to you.”

“mmm. i’ll buy you some new ones, think of it as your first wedding gift.”

[baylz]

The machine demands blood…..

[baylz]

tumblr should have an archive because i'm tired of looking for the stories that i saved for later in my likes !!!!