Oblivion • Akutagawa x Reader

•24

Congrats, you've convinced me to continue ;)

I hope this is not a disappointment.

•••

When you're confined alone for a long period of time, you forget who you are. Sanity is always coming and going, like an old friend you don't know you miss until you turn to them and realize they are not there to keep you grounded. When guilt and resentment are the only ones keeping you comfort, it is also not hard to remember why you almost rather forget who you are than face the outside again.

Maybe letting go of sanity is ok when it's your doing, and when no one seems to remember who you were supposed to be in the first place.

Why hasn't anyone said anything?

Why am I still trapped?

I should have been out by now.

You know that your concept of time has been close to non-existent for a while, but you are positive that if someone had received your message, they should have come to "rescue" you out of the cold, dark walls of the Port Mafia by now.

Or maybe no one ever received the message and this is the world's way of ensuring karma on my drastic measures, on the consequences of yesterday.

It wasn't like you hadn't tried to escape yourself. After days of acceptance, you tried to charm and use anyone who came close enough for you to use your ability on, but they knew better, and slowly those days where you had any chance of escaping dwindled out. You were no longer sure where exactly you were in the Port Mafia, and even when you yelled no one seemed to hear you.

I'm tired of playing with the voices in my mind and repeating the same few memories all the time.

I'm tired of being punished for being Just.

Im tired of being punished for loving.

Have I always been this tired? I can't remember how long this eternity has been...

Everything is so confusing

Maybe if I start screaming again...

"[f/n] [l/n]?"

The voice of a stranger reaches your ears and causes you as much bewilderment as a feverish delirium in your mind. You aren't sure if you're imagining it, or if someone really has called your name.

It's still so dark.

"Miss [l/n]?"

That voice again...

Have I truly gone crazy? I don't even know this voice...

You feel hands on you, untying you from your prison, and suddenly you're standing, your pupils dilating at the first hit of light. You know you're still indoors, but the light feels good enough on you that you wonder if it could be the sun itself.

What's going on?

"Miss [l/n], old sport, I can see you've been treated poorly, but don't worry. My name is Francis Scott Fitzgerald, and I have bought you your freedom under the condition that you work for me. You don't have a choice, money has sealed the deal, cant argue with capitalism since you gave up on your own humanity like this...you were worth quite a lot y'know...but nothing I couldn't handle. Nothing less than I expected for a power such as yours!" The man bellows, much too loud for your currently sensitive ears.