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dyaz-stories · 1 month

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don't get cut on my edges || gojo satoru x reader

synopsis: Gojo is easily bored, you're the latest enigma that's caught his interest. He sets off in trying to figure you out. Lucky for him, you're coming on the week-end trip Shoko's planned for the week-end.

“Was I off script?”

You look up at him.

“You’re always off script.”

word count: 5.4k

genre: college!AU, fluff, slice of life

cw: unresolved sexual and romantic tension, reader has anxiety and is socially awkward, she/her is used for the reader, a little suggestive, overall very sweet and fluffy

a/n: this was fun to write! any feedback is appreciated, and i hope you enjoy my writing here :)

soundtrack

Gojo knows that people talk, knows that they talk shit, knows that there isn’t a soul on campus that doesn’t have an opinion on him. He can tell that eyes follow him around when he walks into a room, that his presence is enough to shift the atmosphere at a gathering, that some people roll their eyes at him while others try their best to catch his attention. It’s a lot to take in, for just one person.

Fortunately, he’s proved to be incredibly gifted in the art of not giving a fuck.

Then again, he’s incredibly gifted in most areas of life. Truth be told, he thinks people aren’t giving him enough credit for that. Sure, they tend to know that he’s a physics major, but that’s just tangential to what they know about the rest of him. He’s not just kinda good at physics, not some dude that goes to college mostly for the parties and then get a meaningless job at daddy’s company, no, he’s the fucking best, and he works fucking hard to be able to claim that title.

But that doesn’t really fit in with the rest of him, and at the end of the day, who cares? He certainly doesn’t.

With all that, it’s not statistically unlikely for him to catch people talking about him.

Well, he’d have to conduct a detailed study to calculate the exact odds, but with how much alcohol is in his blood at this very moment, it makes sense to him that it would happen.

Still, for people to be talking about him at a party he is at, in front of an open window, you’d think they would have some sense of shame. Not that he has any room to talk, because shame is not part of his vocabulary, but like. Come on.

“Gojo really can’t take not being in the spotlight for more than ten seconds, huh?”

That voice, he’s quick to identify, even if he can’t see her face from where’s he’s standing under the porch, belongs to Mei Mei. Aw. Bummer. They’d spent quite a lot of time around each other, have friends in common, slept— Wait, have they slept together? He can’t say for sure anymore. It seems to have slipped from his mind. Oops. Maybe that’s why he’s getting that treatment. Maybe he deserves it.

There’s a scoff, and really, the acoustic of this place are impressive. It feels like he’s straight in the room with those people.

“What else do you expect from someone who’s always had everything served to him on a silver platter?”

And that would be Noritoshi Kamo. Man. That was one of the few kids in the families his parents insisted on frequenting. They used to be sat next to each other at the kiddie table while the adults talked about the important stuff. They never had much in common — not then, not now. And, after all, maybe Noritoshi has a point, after all. His mother wasn’t a mistress, wasn’t turned into an outcast, and he’s never had to pretend he didn’t hear the loud whispers that tarnished her name. Yeah. Sounds like these two aren’t saying anything new after all. Not that he’s gonna change, y’know, but he already knows who he is, and he is all that.

“That seems like a very mean thing to say about a friend,” a quiet voice comments.

The world freezes.

A silhouette appears to go along with the voice, then a blurry face, then the picture becomes clearer. A figure sitting next to Shoko, giving him sweet, polite smiles when he approaches. Not chatty, kinda shy, pretty cute. Would get quiet when he was near, though, so he hadn’t paid a ton of attention. He’s used to giving it to people who asked for it, who wanted it.

You’d never asked.

But you’re… not wrong. He’s not sure why he hadn’t picked up on it himself. It is a mean thing to say.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Mei Mei protests, “I love Gojo, but you know I’m right about this.”

“Yeah, and I’ve known him my whole life,” Kamo adds. “It’s just a fact, we’re not talking shit.”

There’s a silence. Gojo’s invested now.

“I don’t know him that well,” you say. “Like I said. It’s just a mean thing to say about someone you hang out with every day.”

“Come on, don’t act like—”

“I think I’m going to go, actually,” you say. “This feels super shitty.”

“What the fuck was that?” Mei Mei laughs, just a second later — presumably after you’ve left the room.

“She wants to fuck him, I guess,” Kamo says.

Well, you’re making one hell of a headway then, because he’d do you so hard after that.

When he walks back in, you’re chatting with Shoko. You give him your usual, close-lipped smile, don’t quite make eye-contact. If you’re trying to get in his pants, you have a very original way of getting it done.

“Who was your friend again?” he asks Shoko, later that night. She answers without looking up from her phone.

“She doesn’t talk much when there are new people around,” she warns him. “Leave her alone.”

“When have I ever bothered anyone—”

She reaches to smack the back of his head, misses and gets the nape of his neck — that’s the downside about being so tall, there’s just a lot of him to hit.

“Don’t make her uncomfortable. That’s all I’m asking.”

He wasn’t planning on that. He’s just— curious. Intrigued.

It’s unlikely to last, though. He’s been known to get bored easily.

You’re already in the car when he gets in. Well, okay, when he gets shoved inside by Todo, despite his protests that his legs are too long for the backseat. You’ve squeezed yourself in the middle seat, with Shoko on one side, and him on the other now. There’s a bag of snacks in your lap, yet you still try to shift yourself to give him a little more room. It doesn’t help at all, but in your defense, the only thing that could help would be to buy a new car.

“Is everyone ready?” Suguru asks as he adjusts the rearview mirror.

“Sure,” Shoko says.

“Let’s go!” Todo shouts.

“No,” Gojo whines.

“Yeah,” you say, completely drowned out under the rest.

“Good,” Suguru hums as he starts the engine.

Gojo pouts, but he doesn’t insist. Well, he doesn’t make any more of a scene than he already has. Truth be told, he could have taken Todo — dude might be all brute force, but Gojo has brains and brawns, thank you very much.

But he’s curious, still, and he hasn’t been given enough information to quite satiate his curiosity. Everything he’s gathered about you says that you mind your business and keep to your corner.

So why did you say that to Mei Mei and Kamo? It makes no sense, but Gojo’s never met an equation he couldn’t solve.

That’s an overstatement. Obviously there are equations he can’t solve. Yet. He’s sure he’d figure it out eventually. Like he’ll figure you out. See? That metaphor does make sense.

Suguru’s music is playing in the car. The sun is still low in the sky, the day is quickly getting warmer, and the phone says that they’ll be at the beach in two hours.

Satoru closes his eyes. Fun fact about him? He can fall asleep anywhere he wants to.

He wakes up with his face smooshed against the window, a hand tapping his shoulder carefully.

“We’re here,” you say, giving him a smile and then shuffling to leave the car from the other side.

Todo’s already running towards the beach, while Suguru and Shoko are getting the bags out of the trunk. Somehow, Shoko manages to sling a bag over his shoulder, but he takes off before she can stuff the cool box containing all the drinks in his arms.

He then lies to Todo to get him back to the car, so that he can carry the damn thing. Shoko better thank him later for that.

He catches up with you, and he sees your eyes widen a little when he approaches, as you visibly search for something to say. He can’t resist the temptation to shoot you a grin. There’s a light breeze in the air, but he won’t be fooled that easily — with his skin, he’s going to need an insane amount of sunscreen, if he wants to survive the day. Which makes him think, actually—

“Wanna help me apply sunscreen?” he asks.

“Huh?” you say.

He leans towards you, looks into your eyes from over his sunglasses. You appear to be fully frozen in place, only swallowing once as he gets closer. His grin gets wider as he takes in all of you, and he’s once more fascinated by the idea that you had been able to say something to Mei Mei and Kamo but you can barely face him.

His gaze drops to your parted lips.

Then the bottle of sunscreen smashes against his cheek with impressive precision.

“Todo can help you put that on!” Shoko offers as Suguru starts setting up a parasol. “Right, Todo?”

“Of course I will, my brother,” Todo say as he appears, but by then, Satoru has already started running for his life.

“Just kick him in the balls if he pulls something like that again,” Shoko says.

“Oh, no, it’s fine,” you reply, shaking your head in mild horror. “I just— I don’t— know— how to react sometimes. But he doesn’t bother me.”

That statement has her raising an eyebrow at you, filled with doubt, but she doesn’t insist.

“Play nice,” she does warn Satoru once more, later on. “Don’t push it too much.”

“Aw, Shoko, are you saying you wouldn’t approve of me?”

“Do whatever you want to,” she replies, rolling her eyes, “but give her more space. She’s not used to you being… you.”

Satoru rests his chin on his knee. He’s taking refuge under the parasol for now, and you’re already in the waves with Todo and Suguru. You seem comfortable with Todo, laughing at something he said, less so with Suguru. It all looks like a lot of work, all to satiate his curiosity. He’s all about committing to the bit but— he doesn’t know about that one.

This, too, all this thinking and questioning, is a lot of work, though, so he ends up shrugging it off.

“Are we getting in or what?”

“Absolutely not. No— Gojo— Don’t you fucking dare— Gojo!”

Shoko’s full-on shrieking by the time he throws her in the water. You burst out laughing. She comes out screaming for revenge, and Gojo starts scampering around to try and avoid her.

The sun is high in the sky, there’s a light breeze.

The time is good.

“Satoru!” Suguru calls when the watch on his wrist starts beeping, “it’s been two hours!”

It takes a second for the information to reach his brain, but the second he understands it, Gojo’s sprinting back towards the parasol at full speed. You look up, surprised, from the towel on which you’re lying with a book. Shoko doesn’t even bother with lifting an eyelid to see what’s going on.

“You okay?” you ask.

Ah, so she does speak.

“Yeah,” Gojo says, ruffling through a bag. “Just need to reapply some sunscreen. I’m not trying to look like a lobster.”

“Oh,” you say, “so, did you want me to help you with that?”

His fingers finally close around the bottle, and he stills to look at you. Shit. He’s curious again. Shoko’s words are swirling around in his mind, though, and he has no interest in forcing your hand.

“You didn’t look like you wanted to do that,” he says with uncharacteristic caution.

You roll your lips together, glance away from him, and your hand curls into a fist in the sand.

“No, it’s just— Um, I’m sorry about earlier. You— caught me off guard, I guess. I couldn’t figure out what to answer.”

“I usually just go with whatever appears through my head first,” he shrugs as he comes to crouch in front of you — you in the sun, him in the shade.

You laugh softly, but you avert your eyes, focusing on the sand as you trace patterns in it.

“Yeah, I think that’s the preferred method, but it— doesn’t— really work for me. So I have— I have a script, kind of, for interactions.”

“And I was off script?”

You glance back up at him.

“You’re always off script.”

For a moment, he just looks into your eyes, and you look back without any of that earlier nervousness. Then you shrink back into yourself, and the smile that so rarely leaves your lips reappears, like a shield that comes back up.

“Sorry. I know— I know how silly this sounds. I also wish I didn’t feel the need to do that, I just, um—”

“All good,” he replies with a shrug. “Sure. Help me with that.”

He throws you the bottle and you miss it, and he can feel you eyerolling at his back without needing to turn around, but when he shoots you a grin from over his shoulder, he can see how your breath catches in your throat.

Softly, your hand goes over his back, your touch gentle and cautious. It feels quite nice, actually, especially when your nails brush over his skin.

“It’s not too cold?” you ask.

“All good,” he repeats.

Shit. He’s invested again.

“Okay, we have the tickets, we have the water bottles, we have the hats, we have flat shoes, we have Gojo, we have the car keys—”

“I’m sorry, why was I just in the middle of a list of belongings?”

“We have cellphones and portable batteries… I think we’re good,” Shoko concludes, fully ignoring him.

“You don’t think we’re just a touch overprepared?” Suguru asks.

“You can never overprepare, my brother,” Todo says, grabbing his shoulder firmly. “If you want to triumph in the face of adversity, you need to know everything about the enemy.”

Suguru opens his mouth, closes it again. He knows how to pick his battles.

Gojo doesn’t.

“We’re going to a festival, not trying to breech the Pentagon,” he deadpans, and then, from the corner of his eye, he tries to see if you’re laughing. He delights in how you lower your head and try to keep it discreet.

“You never know what—”

“If I have to hear a second more of this nonsense, I swear to God I’ll kill someone here,” Shoko announces cheerfully. “Let’s move.”

Finally, after a good fifteen minutes by the door of the Airbnb you’ve all spent the night in, you start moving.

The good news is that you don’t have to get in the car, in the smothering heat, to get on the overcrowded streets packed full with the cars of the other attendees. The bad news is that you have to walk there, in the smothering heat, near the streets packed full with the cars of the other attendees. Suguru’s in charge of the map, which everyone seems happy with. Gojo had offered to do it, too, and there’s not a shred of doubt that he’d be able to read it competently, but Shoko had insisted the risk of him taking everyone to the wrong place ‘just because it would be funny’ was too high.

She’d been right but like, that was still rude.

The march in the heat and the waiting in line, while painful and unpleasant, as Gojo makes sure everyone around him is well aware of, go pretty smooth. Everything is planned and accounted for. There’s a game plan once they make it into the festival, too, because of course there is, but that’s when things start going south. First, Todo tries to go rogue when he spots someone wearing Takada merch. She’s not performing here, but he’s heard rumors that there would be a stand for her, and he lurches towards the woman. He’d get lost in the crowd immediately if not for Gojo’s lightning fast reflexes.

Unfortunately, soon enough it’s Gojo’s turn to get distracted. What can he say, there’s the smell of sugar in the air, and he needs to know where it’s coming from. Suguru’s the one to get him back on track, as they all head towards the main stage. Because that’s what Shoko’s grand plan leads to: sweet, sweet, close-up spots to watch the Sorcerers, headliners for the festival and also unarguably greatest band of all times, with minimum wait before their show.

There are a couple other close calls, but the group manages to get close enough to the stage. There are people here already, but they’re here for other artists mostly, and they’ll no doubt move quite a bit before the start of the real show. From where they are, even you and Shoko will be able to— Wait a minute.

“Huh,” Gojo say. “Hey, Shoko, do you happen to see (y/n) around?”

“If you can’t see her from up there, why would you think I— Fuck.”

“A fallen soldier,” Todo sighs somberly. “Sometimes, you have to make sacrifices for—"

“We should go get her,” Shoko interrupts him. She’s biting her lower lip, staring at her phone. She looks quite worried, Gojo notices as he stares at her.

“Why isn’t it enough to just text her?” Gojo asks. It’s not ideal, and it won’t be easy to find the group in the middle of this sea of people, but it’s not impossible.

“I just— I don’t know if she’ll want to deal with all that” she gestures at the crowd “alone. I’m afraid she’ll say she doesn’t mind and then she won’t have a good time.”

Gojo tilts his head. It wouldn’t cross his mind to say something he doesn’t mean. It’s an incredibly weird thought, actually. But Shoko’s better than him at, well, people, and she might have a point. He also doesn’t want you to have a bad time, after all. With one last glance at the stage, he nods at her.

“I’ll go get her.”

“Are you sure?” Suguru asks. “I can go, if you want me to. It’s your band.”

As if it isn’t his, too. But Gojo shrugs. His attention span is fleeting, and he’s got his sights on something else right now.

“Nah, don’t worry. I’ll make it back.”

“Thanks,” Shoko says sincerely.

He waves vaguely at her before making his way back through the crowd, earning his fair share of nasty glances. He still doesn’t care.

A few minutes later, he receives a text from Shoko with a screengrab where you say you’re getting something to eat. Sure enough, he has no trouble finding you waiting in line. You’re typing on your phone, not paying attention to your surroundings, and he’s grinning already. He lets himself half fall on you, arm wrapping around your body as he drops his chin onto your shoulder. You jump, glancing back bewildered, but you don’t stay tense long once you see it’s him.

Which makes him feel things, actually, but he’ll unpack that later.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, brow furrowing. “I thought you guys would be in front of the stage by now.”

“I came to rescue the princess, obviously,” he says, and you laugh. You laugh a lot when he talks, instead of rolling your eyes like people usually do.

Maybe you’re a bit too good of an audience.

“I don’t need rescuing, Gojo,” you answer, and it’s interesting how calm your voice is. “It’s packed too tight for me in here. I told Shoko but…” You shrug. “It’s not always easy to understand how it is. For me.”

“Yeah,” he says. “I don’t get it at all.”

Your shoulder’s pretty comfortable, though. And you haven’t tried to get him off of you yet.

“Do you want to order something, too?” you ask, pointing at the food stand. They sell waffles, and just the smell has his mouth watering. “Strawberries and whipped cream, right?”

Gojo pauses.

“How do you know that?”

“You’ve mentioned it. A few times, actually.”

He’s sure he has, but—

“You were listening to that?”

You blink at him. He realizes how close your face is, with his head on your shoulder.

“Of course I was. You were talking.”

“Shoko didn’t tell you? It’s like, rule number one of being around me, don’t listen to the stuff I say. There’s a lot of dumb shit in there.”

You tilt your head, looking kind of confused.

“I still want to hear what you’re saying.”

Something inside him feels warm all of a sudden. Very warm.

“Yeah,” he says, but his throat is tight. “Strawberries and whipped cream.”

When you step forward to they can take your order, he begrudgingly gets off your shoulder, which allows him to swipe his card before you can get to it.

“I had that,” you protest while he bites into the insane amount of whipped cream in his waffle — he asked for more until the guy behind the counter looked like he was going to murder him.

“I had it first,” he says, and then he sticks his tongue out at you. He anticipates your laugh this time, finds himself waiting on it. When it comes, it sounds just like he wanted it to.

For a while, the two of you sit on a fence. You hand him a water bottle, say that he needs to stay hydrated. With no one else around, you don’t seem to have such a hard time speaking. You’re so quiet when everyone’s there and, well, him and Todo take up a lot of space, when it comes to conversation. Neither Suguru nor Shoko struggle with making their voices heard either, and in the middle of all that, you tend to stay silent. Apparently, that doesn’t stop you from listening.

“Shouldn’t you be going back?” you ask, after a while.

Gojo tilts his head as he thinks about it.

“Nah, I’m good. Let’s find some place where you can enjoy the show.”

“You don’t have to—”

A grin, and then he’s jumping from the fence to come stand in front of you. Even like that, he doesn’t have to look up to meet your eyes.

“And how d’you plan on stopping me?”

Your eyes go wide. He can almost hear your heart racing, and he thinks he’s starting to get a little too high on that feeling. It’s just so easy, so fun, so delicious.

“Okay,” you squeak, averting your eyes and jumping down after him, clearly trying to hide your reaction. “Okay, I’m coming.”

When you start walking by his side, grabbing your hand is just too easy not to do it.

“Wouldn’t want you to run away again,” is what he says as he intertwines his fingers with yours. “Now you’re stuck with me.”

You still refuse to look at him, but there is no actual discomfort in your reaction, just what he thinks is uncertainty about how you’re supposed to behave now.

“Have I gone off script again?” he practically purrs.

You glance up, a flash of amusement on your face. Lots of fondness, too, and this time he’s the one who gets caught up in it.

“You haven’t been on script once today.”

“Good,” he says, managing to pass off the emotion that just choked him for a second there as impatience. “Someone’s got to keep you on your toes.”

“I’m always on my toes,” you mumble behind him, but you can’t explain to him what anxiety feels like, so you just let him drag you away. His fingers are long, his hand engulfs yours easily. You like the feeling of it more than you should.

Your eyes are on Gojo’s broad back as he pulls you through the crowd, which parts effortlessly for him. You’re enjoying this.

You don’t think it’s going to last.

Gojo doesn’t think about that though, just like he rarely thinks about tomorrows. What he’s thinking about, as he keeps far, far away from the stage, is how to find a place with enough air around for the two of you. It’s easy for him to get a good look at the stage, and he earns his fair share of pissed off glares — “Seriously, it should be illegal to come to an open-air stage when you’re that tall” — but it takes more work to get the perfect space for you. Finally, his eagle eyes figure out some place that’s just perfect, and he beelines for it with you in tow.

“There,” he says, pulling you in front of him and putting his head on top of yours, just to check that the line of sight is good enough.

Ha. He nailed it.

“Thanks,” you say. There’s surprise in your tone.

“Is this a good spot for you?” he checks, but really, he just wants to hear you praise him?

“It is, but— I thought you said you didn’t get it? My—” You gesture vaguely. “—struggle. With all that stuff.”

Oh right. You actually listen to what he says. He needs to keep that in mind for the future.

“Does it matter?” he asks with a shrug.

You stare. You open your mouth to speak, but no words come out, and then the crowd starts absolutely howling and you spin around to see the Sorcerersget on the stage. Whatever moment there was there, is forgotten right away. He sees you fish in your bag for your phone, then raise it over your head and tiptoe around, trying to get a good photo.

It’s cute, it’s adorable even, but it’s not very efficient.

“Do you want some help here?” he asks, leaning close to your ear so you can hear him over all the noise.

Your body shivers into him, and he files that away for later.

“Um, yeah,” you shout over the noise. “Here, could you—”

But he pays no attention to the way you offer him your cellphone, and instead he’s bending down, and ignoring your surprised protest as he pushes his head between your legs.

He bench presses a hell of a lot more than he looks like he does, for the record.

With a grunt, he manages to get you up on his shoulders, and some people behind him complain loudly, but whatever, they can wait for you to get the perfect picture. You struggle to stabilize yourself for a dangerous second, and then you stop moving around for a second. Your thighs are supple and warm under his hands and around his head.

One more thing to remember.

“I’m good, I’m good, get me down,” you say quickly, just as he’s storing the thought away.

You seem relieved when your feet get back on the ground, and Satoru lets his hands linger on your waist.

“Was it a nice pic?” he asks. He knows he’s all red in the face, but he’s grinning so wide it almost hurts, actually.

“Perfect,” you squeak. “Thank you. Again.”

Aw. He’s going to get used to that word real quick.

A familiar guitar riff comes from the stage, and you turn away from him once more, but his hands are still on your waist. He uses that to pull you against him and this time, you don’t hesitate to let yourself lean back against him as the two of you move in rhythm with the music.

The concert is a blur after that. There’s a lot of singing, a lot of screaming, basically no time to catch a breath, because the Sorcerers are fucking beasts that don’t let up, not even for a second. At some point, you tell him something, but he can’t really hear, so you crane your neck back and he lowers his head. Your lips brush against his neck, an accident really, but it sends such a jolt of electricity through him, he thinks he’ll go into full overdrive.

The only thing that stops him from chasing after your lips immediately after that is Shoko’s voice, going around in his mind. ‘Don’t push it.’ What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

You move away, and he still has no clue what you were saying. If after that, his hands hold your hips a little tighter, if he pulls you a little closer, he can’t be blamed. If, during one of the more sulfurous song of the show, as you’re swaying against him, humming along to the song, his lips find your neck, he doesn’t want to hear about it.

When he presses a kiss right by your jaw, you turn to look at him. You’re pretty. He’s always thought you were pretty.

Fuck Shoko, he thinks, and he’s ready to put his mouth on yours, to slide his tongue between your parted lips that have looked so inviting this entire week-end, when the riff of the band’s most popular song starts playing, and he loses you attention once more.

Cock-blocked by his favorite band. Fuck his life.

When the song ends, there’s movement in the crowd as the band gets off the stage and people start chanting for an encore. In Shoko’s fool proof, perfect plan, this is when you’re supposed to start leaving. Gojo doesn’t want to — how is he supposed to do anything about how much he wants his mouth on you once you’re back with the other — but this time you grab his hand and pull him away from the stage and he has even less of a clue of what he’s supposed to do about that.

You get to the meeting point before Shoko, Todo and Suguru, which makes sense, considering you were much further from the stage than them. It’s a specific pole that Shoko had pointed to as you were first getting in, and the urge to push you against it and to taste your lips is strong. Gojo isn’t typically one to ignore that kind of feeling. He just goes for it, doesn’t let his brain get in the way too much. He’s not sure what it is with you and your doe eyes and your sweet smile that makes him act different.

Whatever it is, it makes him ask “Did you have a good time?” instead of kissing you senseless behind the pole while watching to make sure Shoko doesn’t catch him in the act.

“It was amazing,” you say. “I don’t think— I don’t think I’d have gotten that close without you.”

“Did I force your hand?” he asks, frowning.

“No, no, that was great, actually.” And there it comes, his favorite words, and then he’ll kiss you. “Thank—”

“There you guys are!”

You have got to be kidding him. The Gods of timing are so set against him, he must have done something to piss them off badly in another life.

“Okay, we should start heading towards the exit,” Shoko announces.

“Nah, we ‘re staying until the end,” Gojo says, burying his hands, balled into fists, in his pockets. He’s being needlessly belligerent, but whatever, she deserves it, whether she knows it or not.

“Don’t be a dick,” she glares.

He smiles at her. And he doesn’t budge.

“We’ll run,” you say, stepping in. “I’m sure we can still beat the crowd if we run.”

She narrows her eyes at you, then at Gojo.

“You’re a bad influence, you know that?”

So many delicious thoughts coming to him, and he can’t do anything about it. Damn it all.

Of course, it ends with the five of you sprinting on the lawn and all the way back to the house. Of course, he doesn’t catch five seconds with you after that. Of course, your face is on his mind the whole night.

Of course, because it’s just his luck, isn’t it, in the morning, Shoko tells him you had to catch a flight early in the morning.

“I told you, don’t you remember? She’s going back to her family for the summer.”

Of course, he doesn’t.

Ah, whatever. It bothers him for a minute, but then the day continues unfolding, and the sun’s warm, it’s the peak of summer, and he only really knew you for a couple of days. He’ll see how he feels about it when college starts up again in the fall. He’s not known for sticking with things, anyway. He’ll probably forget; you probably won’t capture him again like you did; it was probably a fluke.

That, or these will become famous last words.

sequel

thank you so much for reading! i had a ton of fun writing gojo's pov and i hope you enjoyed it too, even if i'm still finding his voice :) please reblog or comment if you've enjoyed this, i'd love to hear from you! getting readers' feedback on my writing is what keeps me motivated to write so if you'd like to read more from me, that's the way to do it!

tagging the people who expressed interest in this: @elidebrey @xstom @chosospookiebear @xmysticredx

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #jjk x you #my writing #gojo imagine #jjk imagine #jjk x y/n

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gallusrostromegalus · 9 months

Note

You ohhhandedly mentioned tessai livong through ww2 and… wow thats true there were a lot of characters that got a first row seat to both conflicts, even if only the second was really impactful on japans history. Does urahara, yoruichi, tessai, the vizored or any of the shinigami have any specific feelings on ww2/the nuclear bombs? I know its a wild fucking question but it literally just occurred to me and i cant stop thinking about it.

Yeah WW2 is an entire 5-chapter arc in the fic because apparently Kubo is from Hiroshima, and Karakura town is based on his memories growing up there. Stuff that happens during that arc:

The Soul Society's sole warning that something catastrophic might be coming is the arrival of an irradiated and enraged Coyote spirit from the Trinidad test site. It's up to Newly-appointed captain Komamura to calm it down and explain what happened, and Mayuri is able to work out that atomic weapons are real from it's descriptions. He gives Soul Society about a month before the humans drop one on a city.

Unfortunately, he's correct.

***

Urahara and the Visoreds use the fact that they're already dead to mitigate some of the damage from the bombing by walking into the epicenter and shoving carbon rods into the most radioactive points, stemming much of the radiation damage, but there's nothing they can do for the initial wave of destruction.

It involves going through a new gigai every trip and learning what if feels like to have the flesh actually melt off your bones, but Hirako Shinji and the other Visored are no cowards, least of all about Hard and Dirty Work.

Tessai makes Ururu and Jinta out of spare parts from Urahara's Gigai experiments to house a heavily damage Kitsune and Tanuki spirit pair from a shrine that was destroyed. Ururu is the Tankuki, and the older one- Jinta seems a bit more 'organic' because Tessai learned a lot making his sister, and because as a Kitsune, he's a better actor.

***

Soul Society is in major trouble though.

with the sudden influx of souls- first from the bombing, but then from the radiation sickness and the famine that followed, the living and spirit worlds are in danger of becoming unbalanced.

It's a Major Crisis!

Fortunately for them, people with sociopathy tend to operate really well during Crises, and I realized the reason Mayuri hasn't been fired or killed by the time Ichigo shows up is that when shit hits the fan, Mayuri's lack of emotional response to the suffering of others means he can buckle down and fucking DELIVER.

Expansions to the pocket dimension that the queue of incoming souls is housed in? He didn't sleep for two weeks to get it done on time, but there was more than enough room when the bomb dropped and for the few months after as casualties continued.

Emergency rations for all these incoming factory workers that know nothing about farming? Behold, Nutritionally complete meals that you can eat right out of the box! And smaller, friendlier ones for the kiddies!

Hell, the 12th division even makes instructional propaganda videos about how safe and tasty these new foods are, featuring The Grand Clown Himself, and distribution centers featuring his likeness, so Mayuri enjoys a peculiar popularity in the Rukongai, not unlike an off-brand and sometimes educational Krusty The Clown.

Just ah. Stop asking questions about the ingredients list.

***

"I'm not fucking killing civillians." Says Kenpachi when Yamamoto begins to bring up the historical method that the Shinigami have used to balance out sudden influxes of souls from the living world.

"Oh?" Yamamoto glares at him. "You have a better idea?"

"What's them big fuckers that come outta tears sometimes? Hundred feet tall, black, bird faces?" He asks, waving as he tries to remember the names.

"...Menos Grande?" asks Ukitake, who has gotten remarkably good at interpreting for the man next to him at meetings.

"Yeah!" Zaraki grins, patting his six-foot-tall colleague on the head like a small child. "You said they're like... combination creatures of a thousand souls each right?"

"Zaraki is correct." Pipes up Tousen, who is also extremely eager to not murder civilians and even more eager to absolutely fuck up the army of Menos Aizen has been gathering in Hueco Mundo. "-It wouldn't be *easy* but dispatching approximately Five hundred Menos in the next week seems much more doable and much, much more morally sound than killing five hundred thousand civillians. Sir."

Kaname can feel the curse nails on his back starting to bleed from Aizen's glare but he presses on.

"-There appears to be a significant population of them gathered on the far eastern edge of Hueco Mundo. It would probably take most of the 11th Division's forces but-"

"IKKAKU!" Zaraki is already bellowing out the door to his lieutenant. "TELL EVERYONE TO PACK AN EXTRA PAIR OF PANTIES, WE'RE GOING ON A HOLLOW HUNT!"

There is a distant but enthusiastic whoop form Ikkaku in reply.

"An excursion into Hueco Mundo is exceptionally dangerous." Unohana notes, voice placid as he returns to the table.

"-and? I don't do this job because it's safe 'n' easy." Zaraki shrugs.

Her neutral expression softens just a bit into a small, affectionate and perhaps ever-so-slightly lascivious smile. "May I suggest that a detachment of the 4th Division accompany the 11th? It won't make the work easier, but it will mitigate some of the risk."

Yamamoto groans, aware that the decision has been made for him.

"Fine." He grunts. "Take a detachment of the Ninth too, you can use that newfangled radiodar whatsit to keep me updated."

"Pardon?" Mumbles Kaname, slightly woozy from blood loss.

His circulatory situation is not helped when an illusion-blind-to-the-blood Zaraki grabs him about the middle and starts carrying him off under his arm in exactly the direction the 9th and 11th are not like a particularly bewildered purse Chihuahua.

***

Aizen... almost strays from his path.

The Hogyoku is slow and tiresome, his first plan to barrage Karakura with Menos to create the Oken is being trashed and actually being forced to work his job of Rukongai Management is- Well, it's reminding him just why he started this quest to Dethrone God.

What loving creator would make an afterlife of squalor, where the 'lucky' are cursed to outlive everyone they know and love? Not one worth worshiping, surely.

But actually being out here, setting up emergency food distribution, implementing the latest in civil engineering from the newly arrived and seeing it immediately improve the quality of life, uniting families and... actually helping people? it's making him question his path. Perhaps- Perhaps God is not some uncaring regent on a distant throne. Perhaps God is something that lives in all souls, a kindness and goodwill towards one's fellow man, and to spread the will of a loving creator, one must Act to Enact God's Will...

Gin Panics.

He has not spent the last 300-odd years dangling the Hogyoku in front of Aizen, stuffing him full of spiritual energy to feed to the machine that generates reality like he was fattening up a goose for Pate, only to have him give up his quest for divinity NOW.

He's gonna have to do something drastic.

He's gonna have to convince Aizen he was right all along, and that he needs to keep using the Hogyoku.

He's going to need to use Aizen's own Illusions against him, and convince Aizen that the souls of the citizens of the rukongai aren't worth playing a Benevolent God for. That the whole thing needs to come out and be replaced.

Sure, it's a dick move

but those are his specialty.

***

It's the night before the 11th and the two detachments are supposed to leave for Hueco Mundo, and Yamamoto's been doing some thinking.

He is also in Zaraki's quarters at midnight sharp. "Captain-General." Nods Unohana, pausing mid-activity to acknowledge him. "Bruh." Zaraki grunts to indicate they were busy. "I need to borrow Zaraki for an hour or so, and then you may continue." he says, and then steps back outside so the man can get untied and dressed.

"This better be good old man, I know you haven't been married for a few centuries but REALLY-" Zaraki grumbles, emerging and putting his sandals on. "Don’t worry, it’ll take twenty minutes tops, all you have to do is stand behind me and don’t hide your rage." Yamamoto explains. "-We'’re going to go see the central 46." Zaraki pauses mid-sandal, slowly looking up at him with an intrigued arch to his brow. "Yes, it’s forbidden." Yamamoto says, not tearing his gaze away from the moon above them. "-But I've received reports that the Central 46 has acquired blueprints of the... Device. Used in the living world earlier this month and I'm nipping this at the damn bud." Zaraki grins, and finishes putting his sandals on.

The Central 46 are alerted to the Presence of Yamamoto and Zaraki by the main gate to their district being kicked through the wall of the council chambers.

"Hello, Sages and Wise Councilors of the Soul Society!" The Old Man greets them as he steps through the hole he just made, and The Barbarian squeezing through after, sword casually over his shoulder. "Well isn't this a surprise, everyone here in a full meeting at One in the Morning on a Teusday!"

"Wh-What is the meaning of this?" one of the head councilmen sputters, mustache bristling. "Shinigami are forbidden form this place, I'll have you both execu-!"

"Shut up." Yamamoto glares, and sparks fly from the corner of his eye. The hem of his Haori is starting to smolder and singe as well as he approaches the table the councilors are crowded around the blueprints from the living world.

"Now, we are all good and honorable people here." Yamamoto says, casually waving a hand in what would normally be a placating gesture but now only made his sleeve flicker as Ryujin Jakka grew hungrier. "-But I've been around long enough to know how Power corrupts."

"And we've all been exposed to a new, horrific level of Power."

"Oh, of course, you would never! It's unthinkable to sink to such a level!"

"...but it's been a few weeks. The initial shock has faded, and you're starting to understand the full toll of the destruction." he explains, strolling up, the diamond insignia on his back spreading across his shoulders as the Haori singes. Behind him, Zaraki is following with an unpleasantly carnivorous stroll, yellow eye lazily moving from face to face, taking stock of all those present. "...and you are perhaps developing a new standard of devastation and suffering to wish upon your enemies."

There is some muttering, some protesting, and worse, some agreeing. They are silenced by a sudden electric crackle of Energy from Zaraki.

"I’m just here to tell you all-" Yamamoto continues, unperturbed. Or perhaps so perturbed he's warped all the way around to a deep, ruthless peace.

"If I hear any ONE of you has taken steps to develop a weapon like this-" he points a finger at the blueprints, which singe and then burn, a low, slow flame that reduces them completely to ash.

"-I’m going to kill all of you."

"Actually," he explains, as the blueprints finish burning and the table catches as well, fire blooming and crackling, lighting him from beneath. "I’m going to kill all of you and your families. By which I mean, I’m figuring out who all your ancestors were going back Five generations, Kill them, and kill all their descendants."

The table burns, and the floor is threatening to catch, but nobody can move to ring the fire alarm or grab a bucket of water.

"-Because that’s the kind of indiscriminate destruction these things cause." he explains. "It's a damn shame to say this, but this is the first time we've been able to settle whole families in the same town- because five, six, even seven generations of families, from great-great grandmother to the newest infants were burnt together in an instant."

"So if you want to wield that kind of destruction, you best be prepared to deal with those kinds of consequences." he growls, and suddenly sweeps his hand over the fire, which snuffs out immediately.

Slowly he turns to go, and regards Zaraki behind him.

"Oh, and just in case any of you had thoughts of hastening my retirement in regards to this matter-" he speaks up, and points to Zaraki "-Near as I can tell, this asshole is immortal and indestructible, so if I happen to be dead, he'll do it for me, won't you?"

"Yes, sir." Zaraki Nods, eye fixed on the head councilor, committing his face to memory, blade and crackling eagerly.

"-and he's nowhere near as speedy and clean a killer as I am, so I suggest you don't test either of us." Yamamoto grins, and Ryujin Jakka can't help but flicker off his brow for emphasis.

"Goodnight, and go fuck yourselves." Yamamoto bows, and exits through the same hole he entered.

The walk back to the 11th is largely silent, but Yamamot can feel the pleased-yet-curious thrum of reiatsu from Zaraki.

"Question, boss-" he suddenly speaks as they approach the 11th.

"You're not supposed to question orders, Zaraki." He sighs. He'll make a proper shinigami out of him. Eventually.

"...Request for clarification, Boss-" Zaraki tries again, and Yamamoto nods. "-Why me?"

Yamamoto arches an overgrown brow at him.

"Not complainin'-" Zaraki explains, pointedly looking up at the moon and scratching his neck in deferment. "-But Byakuya's got more sway with them and Gin's definitely better at terrifying first impressions."

"Hm." Yamamoto nods. "It's in the follow-up, not the impression, you see."

"I do not." Zaraki says. For all his faults and frustrations, Zaraki sure keeps Yamamoto on his toes about not being lazy and actually explaining himself.

"-I am very serious about you killing them and their descendants if they ever think about making one of those devices." he sighs and Zaraki nods, waving a hand for him to continue. "-So I picked the Shinigami most invested in a peaceful future to make sure my orders would be carried out."

Zaraki still looks confused.

"You're my only captain with children, Zaraki." Yamamoto explains. "I know you only give half a rat's ass about the court guard, but I've seen what you'll do for Yachiru."

Zaraki nods understanding now, and a few more paces of silence pass between them.

"...Thank you, Sir." Zaraki mutters, bowing his head and using the honorific with genuine intent for the first time since Yamamoto had known him. "-For understanding."

"Thank you, Captain Zaraki." Yamamoto nodded slightly, stopping before the gate to the 11th. "-For understanding as well."

"-Now get back to Captain Unohana before she schedules some sort of blood test of a thousand needles for me!" Yamamoto grunted, prodding at Zaraki with his cane, and the man didn't need to be told twice.

#AEIWAM #an elephant is warm and mushy #bleach #bleach fanfic #zaraki kenpachi #mauyri kurotsuchi #kisuke urahara #genryusai shigekuni yamamoto #kaname tousen #retsu unohana #long post

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soulessjourney · 5 months

Text

One Last Time

Paring: Astarion x fem!DurgTavReader

Word count: 5.5k

Summary: Just what truly happened during the battle with Ketheric Thorm?

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of violence, OOC Astarion, injuries, talk of mental health, some fluff, Tav is on her journey of having a redeption arc, Confessions, some fluff, Heavy Act 2 Spoilers

A/N: Buckle up kiddies this is gonna be a long one. I did add a bit of my own spin on things in some parts just to help fill in the aspects of the fighting to make it more dramatic.

Ketheric Thorm, a man who defied death and wasn't meant to survive. He bore the responsibility for unleashing the Shadow Curse and cowardly sought refuge in Moonrise Towers, at least that's how you perceived it. Meeting him as a true soul set the stage for your downfall. Upon your arrival, your Guardian, with a hint of disgust in her voice, made you acutely aware of his identity. Being in proximity to the absolute felt like a dream, yet an unsettling feeling lingered. You sensed manipulation, as if you were a mere pawn in his game. Moonrise, though familiar, seemed to beckon you, and the guards appeared well-informed about your identity. Anger and fury welled up within you, resentful of the power he wielded. A part of you contended that this power was rightfully yours, and an irresistible urge to claim it consumed you.

As your eyes follow Thorm out of the room, Astarion clears his throat beside you. "Well, that was eventful. Say, how are we supposed to kill someone who can't be killed? Seems like a setup if you ask me." He shrugs, prompting a scoff from Shadowheart.

"You know, Astarion, I would like to go one day without your comments," she grumbles, eliciting a pout from Astarion and a breathless laugh from you. After about a month or two of being together, your group had grown close, opening up in various ways. Despite only being together for a short time, they appointed you the leader, leading to disagreements, especially with more qualified individuals like Gale.

The banter between Astarion and Shadowheart continues as you walk out of the tower. "I'm just saying, Darling, there's no way in the nine hells we can kill someone who simply cannot be killed. That's like asking a rock to walk," he shrugs, shooting a smug smile toward Shadowheart.

Just as she opens her mouth to respond, you cut them off. "That's enough, you two. The entire Shadow Land can hear your bickering," you grumble as Lae’zel nods in agreement. "Besides, we're almost to the Mausoleum, and it's rude to disturb the dead," you say, suppressing a smile at the pure annoyance on Shadowheart's face. It's rare for Astarion to get the last word, and when he does, he becomes the cockiest man alive.

Falling behind your group, Gale nudges you and raises a questioning brow. It's unusual for you to lag behind, considering your usual determination to lead and be the first to jump into action to protect your party. "What's going on in that head of yours?" he asks, keeping his voice low so as not to draw attention.

Shrugging, you fiddle with your armor before letting out a sigh. "I just don't have the best feeling. It's like something is about to happen, and we won't be able to avoid it. I'm worried that whatever we're about to face, there's no coming back from it." Odd feelings weren't unfamiliar to you; after all, you constantly battled the urge to commit daily murders. However, today's unease had you more concerned than usual.

Gale nods, letting out a thoughtful hum as he considers his response. "It's not because I plan on blowing myself up, is it?" he asks, a laugh escaping his lips. His expression turns serious when he notices your lack of laughter. "Tav, everything will be okay. We have each other, and we're all equally dedicated to ensuring our survival. Nothing will happen, and I especially know that Astarion won't let anything happen to you," he says, giving you a knowing look.

You and Astarion shared something, although you weren't sure what it was beyond the occasional intimacy. Both of you were highly protective of each other, yet he dismissed it as shameless flirting. You desired something more with Astarion, but you knew he was apprehensive. He was new to the affection you showed him and unfamiliar with being cared for in a way he had never experienced before.

Just as you were about to respond, a figure emerges from the shadows just before you reach the Mausoleum. Astarion groans at the sight of Raphael gliding towards your group, his usual mischievous smile spread widely across his lips. "Well, well, isn't it my favorite group of adventurers?" he says, stopping just before your group. You step forward, noting how Astarion positions himself behind you, rolling his shoulders forward almost as if to appear larger—a simple act of protection that's hard to resist smiling at. "I know it's odd for a Devil to ask for a favor, but there's something I'll grant you in return," Raphael says, locking his eyes on yours.

Astarion scoffs and crosses his arms. "Just spit it out already; we don't have time for your riddles," he deadpans, shifting closer to you, ready to throw you behind him if Raphael makes a move to harm you.

"Now, now, this isn't the time to lack patience," Raphael says, standing taller. "I need you to take care of a problem, a competition, we can call it. In return, I'll give your little vampire friend answers about the scars on his back—a translation that I know you both are just dying to know." He grins, watching your eyes widen before turning to look back at Astarion. "His name is Yurgir, and dealing with him will do a lot of good. He's breaking his contract and needs to be sent right back to where he came from as a...lesson." He says, looking over your group. "Once you find him, take care of him. I will know, and it will determine if you get the answers you so desperately seek." Just as he finishes his sentence, he disappears right in front of you.

Exhaustion seeps through you as your group stays quiet. "I guess we have some work to do," you mumble, walking forward into the Mausoleum. The others hesitate as they watch you, concerned about your sudden lack of energy. Usually, you would be up for anything, even if it meant dealing with a devil. As you walk into the building, the group exchanges worried glances before following you inside.

---

The confrontation with Yurgir turned out to be surprisingly easy, given his already paranoid state. With his contract entwined in a song, convincing him to turn against his allies, including Nessa, a displacer beast you empathized with, proved to be a straightforward task. In your mind, she didn't deserve to meet her end in the manner she did. Subsequently, you seamlessly entered his paranoid thoughts, persuading him to take his own life. Lae’zel and Astarion, usually at odds, expressed their shared disappointment at the lack of an actual fight to entertain them.

Amidst the discontent, your primary concern shifted to the current state of your group. Shadowheart, driven by determination, sought to complete Shar’s Gauntlet, a symbolic act to ascend and prove her loyalty to her goddess. While you couldn't help but worry about your friend, you understood her desire to seize this opportunity. As she faced the three challenges, ultimately finding the Spear of Night, you sensed a subtle shift in her demeanor.

Standing before the Nightsong, a woman bound to this realm with no apparent escape, you noticed a spark of questioning in Shadowheart's eyes, despite her determination. Confronting Thorm, you learned that releasing the Nightsong was the only way to weaken him and break his hold on immortality. The moment of decision arrived when Shadowheart, succumbing to her doubts, threw the spear over the edge, the mentioning of the forest and the wolves.

A surge of indescribable emotion coursed through you—perhaps pride or worry. It wasn't until Dame Aylin stepped forward, kneeling before Shadowheart, that the situation took a new turn. "Lay a hand of friendship upon me, and break my chains," she gently requested, her eyes meeting Shadowheart's before focusing on you. "Only when I am free can I aid you in taking down Ketheric Thorm." Shadowheart hesitated, glancing back at you for guidance.

Slowly nodding, she reached forward, resting a hand on Dame Aylin, breaking her chains once and for all. A portal opened behind you, and just before you could turn away, your eyes locked on Dame Aylin. Her armor began to form on her skin, and wings emitting a heavenly glow spread out behind her. Despite the look of recognition, all you received was a nod before she took off, leaving your group alone.

---

Now that Dame Aylin was free, things seemed to have accelerated much faster than anticipated. Drained and utterly tired, all you desired was to rest. Your head buzzed, and your ears rang, yet there you stood before Moonrise Towers, gearing up to face Ketheric Thorm. The urgency escalated with Dame Aylin's freedom, and a dark part of you wished she hadn't been released just so you could have some time to recuperate.

As you looked up at the towers, your body tensed when someone moved to stand beside you. A sense of relief washed over you as you saw Astarion. Smiling down, he shifted on his feet. "We're going to win, Darling. You have all of us ready to fight at your side. Don't overthink it," he said, shaking his head to silence any protests. "I can practically hear the gears turning in that pretty little head of yours," he added with a teasing grin. "But before we go in, can we talk? It's rather important, just in case we do meet our doom in there," he said softly.

Giving a half-hearted smile, you felt the exhaustion seeping out of you. Astarion took your hand, leading you aside as the rest of the group looked at you in question before starting their own conversations, providing you and Astarion with some privacy. "Are you alright?" you asked, scanning him for any injuries he might have sustained.

His expression changed, as if he were at war with himself. "Oh yes, I'm fine. I just... feel awful about something," he admitted. Confusion crept over you as you tried to recall any recent events that might explain his unease. It wasn't until you saw him shift nervously that you gave him a reassuring smile.

He continued, revealing a plan to seduce you, manipulate your feelings, and use you to defeat Cazador. The revelation left a bitter taste of betrayal in your mouth. You shifted, your posture rigid, waiting for an explanation. The truth unfolded—his plan fell apart because he couldn't resist falling for you.

His confession left you grappling with feelings of betrayal and hurt. "Were you even attracted to me? Or was that all a lie as well?" you asked, unable to contain the pain in your voice. His flinch confirmed the discomfort he felt.

Astarion, now uncomfortable and terrified, admitted, "Of course I was attracted to you. Look at you, for goodness’ sake! You’re a vision and so much more than that." He hesitated, expressing uncertainty about his feelings. "I just… I don’t know what to think. I don’t know what I want."

You shared your care for him, admitting your deep feelings. His face lit up at your words, and a soft 'really?' hung in the air. Without thinking, you moved forward, wrapping your arms around him in a gentle but secure hug. It felt like a silent promise of your genuine care. As he reciprocated the embrace, you sensed a change in him.

Astarion, being himself, smiled and cleared his throat. "You... You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?" he remarked, his eyes locking with yours, revealing hidden emotions. He let out a nervous laugh, pulling your attention back to him. "Honestly, I have no idea what we’re doing or what comes next," he confessed, holding out his hand.

You stared at his hand before placing your palm on top of his. His cool skin covered yours as he drew you closer. "But I know that this? This is nice," he whispered.

There you stood, face flushed, realizing that, in a twisted way, Astarion truly loved you, and you loved him more than anything. Happiness mingled with worry, as he chose this moment to confess, fearing the possibility of not making it out alive. Yet, living in the now, you vowed to fight alongside him, grateful for the truth he finally shared.

Wyll cleared his throat, redirecting your attention to the group standing there, beaming at the two of you. It was evident they had overheard everything, and judging by the look on Shadowheart’s face, a secretly hopeless romantic, they had heard it all.

"Okay, you lovebirds, we have a Thorm on our side that we need to kill," Wyll declared, letting out a loud laugh at his own joke. However, the laughter died down when no one else joined in. An awkward silence hung in the air until you snorted, breaking the tension and sending the rest of your group into fits of laughter.

Even in the face of potential doom, moments like these made you grateful to have them by your side. Wyll looked around, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes. "Oh, I see how it is. It’s only funny when you put me down," he grumbled, prompting a genuine laugh from Lae’zel. The sound, rare and cherished, resonated among your group, appreciating the unexpected moment of joy.

---

The echoes of your laughter felt like a distant memory as you stood before Ketheric Thorm, anger seeping through you at the sight of him. The yells of your party echoed behind you as they fought against his soldiers, while he remained solely focused on you. Despite being mortal, he carried himself with immense confidence, as if convinced you could never truly defeat him. His smug demeanor fueled your desire to rip his head from his shoulders, yet something kept you rooted in the spot where you stood. Your attention shifted when something hot grazed your arm, prompting a pained yell as you gripped the wounded area. Thorm looked down at you with a smug smile, his eyes darkening.

"Who knew that you would come crawling to my doorstep? Why have you returned? Do you miss the throne in which you once sat?" he taunted, his words striking you like poison.

Although you had been here before, the realization that you used to occupy the throne he now warmed was a revelation. "I’m here to kill you," you declared, your hand warming with the blood seeping from your wounded arm. "I’m here to witness your downfall, and I’m going to enjoy every second of it," you spat, dropping your hand from your arm as you reached for the staff positioned on your back.

Thorm responded with an amused laugh, scanning the surroundings. "You? Kill me? I suppose you didn’t learn your lesson from the last time we had a falling out. Your father would be laughing at you now, seeing his perfect child turning her back on him," he seethed. Your eyes widened slightly before you shook your head. He was trying to toy with you, attempting to make you drop your guard, but you refused to let that happen.

You felt the fire spread through your palms before it traveled across the room toward Thorm. The lack of any reaction from him made you second-guess whether he was truly mortal now. Ascending the stairs, you stood face-to-face with Thorm, narrowing your eyes into a challenging glare. Swinging your weapon, the sound of steel clashing filled the air.

"You have the opportunity to surrender, Thorm. You don’t have to live like this," you declared, your voice stern as you pushed your weight into your weapon.

Thorm laughed and glared down at you. "You’ve become so weak. Your father has done nothing but brag about you, and yet here you are, offering me mercy. You are no daughter of his; no wonder you were cast out," he seethed, lifting his foot to kick you back. Tumbling, your weapon clashed against the ground beside you, and your eyes filled with fire. The urge to rip him apart from the inside out consumed you, and the taste of blood filled your mouth as your body became rigid.

The staff next to you vanished as a long sword with intricate designs slowly appeared in your hand. Standing slowly, you raised your eyes to meet his once more, and a smile settled onto his face. "There she is—the killer your father raised you to be," he said, rolling his shoulders back. A snarl escaped you as you raced forward, only to be thrown back as Dame Aylin slammed down into the area next to you and Thorm.

"Ketheric Thorm, your time is over. Here, you will fall by my hand," she declared as you stood up, your body shaking in rage. "My friend here has kept you busy enough; now it is my turn to aid her in this fight. You should’ve stayed dead," she snarled, leaping forward and landing a hit on Thorm, causing him to stumble back. Seizing the opportunity, you ran from beside her, slicing at him and making him groan in protest as your blade sank into his arm. The two of you fought in sync, one striking after another, knocking Thorm back with each blow.

Just when you thought things would finally be over, Thorm's soldiers stopped fighting, and the room grew quiet. Clutching your side to put pressure on the wound Thorm had given you moments prior, you spat the blood that filled your mouth onto the ground.

"You should’ve just let things rest. We wouldn’t have to go through all this fighting if you just let things remain the way they did," Thorm remarked, glancing toward the side of the roof. As if on cue, a large tentacle sprouted from the side of the building, knocking you off the platform. Landing on the ground a few feet away from Shadowheart, you struggled to suck in the air that was knocked out of your lungs. Helpless, you watched Dame Aylin try her best to fight the tentacle before being wrapped up and taken under the tower.

Shadowheart dropped to her knees beside you, holding a vial up to your lips. "Drink this; you’re in no shape to move," she said, her eyes scanning your body, taking in every wound. "Gods, Tav, you’re going to overwork yourself like this. We can take Thorm while you rest," she suggested gently, attempting to tend to your wounds. Pushing her hand away, you shook your head before sitting up, finally able to catch your breath.

"No, I need to take him down. I won’t leave you guys to fight alone," you grunted, wincing at just how sore your entire body was. Muffling the whimper that left your mouth, you stood before hobbling over towards the hole left in one of the pillars. The others walked up behind you, peering down from beside you. Looking at the others, you nodded before jumping down into the hole, listening as they followed behind you.

---

The path to find Thorm once again was long and grueling as you made your way through the mind-flayer colony. Along the way, you enlisted the help of a small brain that you had saved on the ship when you were first kidnapped. Now, you stood before the door separating you from Thorm. Upon your entrance, you noticed two other individuals with him—the same ones from your visions, but something about them seemed familiar. A chill ran through your bones when you heard her name: Orin. Hearing that name sent waves of anger through you, and you could even taste a small hint of betrayal as you looked at her. Something snapped you from your trance when you noticed Gale step forward. You had completely forgotten that he promised to carry out Mystra’s request, and the anger towards the goddess filled you once more.

“Whatever you are thinking of doing, Gale, it’s not worth it,” you said, meeting his gaze. He looked determined, and the sight broke your heart. “I won’t let you blow yourself up. We can find another way to please her or even save you, but ending your life like this isn’t worth it.” Part of you couldn't figure out why you were determined to save Gale, but the other knew that you needed him there. He was a friend and someone you knew how to talk to, seeking comfort when you weren’t sure how to open up to Astarion.

Astarion stepped up next to you and brushed your fingers with his before looking at Gale. “For once, I agree with our Darling leader here. We can’t afford to lose you just yet. You can blow yourself up another time, but that time isn’t now,” he said, meeting Gale’s eyes with determination.

Gale sighed and nodded as he looked at his two friends—one who was nothing but worried about him and the other begging him, in the most twisted way, to stay alive. “Alright, you’re right. Maybe this isn’t my time to go just yet. We have other opportunities for me to blow myself up. I’ll stay and fight beside you, and I promise to give it my all,” he said, smiling as your body relaxed, and relief filled your worn-down body.

As you stepped forward, Thorm met your gaze, his eyes hardening. "I see you all made it here alive—a shame, truly. I never wanted to hurt you, and I certainly never wanted to kill you. You all had so much to live for," he said, pity filling his voice. Your mind raced as you thought back to the letters you found in the tower. The letters from his wife and daughter gave you a chance at an attempt to convince him.

"Thorm, you don’t need to do this. You could be with Melodia again; you can be with the one you love without consequences," you said softly, stepping forward and wincing as you raised your arms to hold up your hands. "She’s waiting for you to come back to her, and you can finally use this as a chance to see her again." The battle in his eyes was evident. Looking towards Gale, you signaled him to go free Dame Aylin from the hold Thorm had on her. Gale nodded in silent agreement before disappearing from the spot next to you.

If Thorm did see Gale, he paid him no mind. "The goddess wouldn’t allow that to happen, not with what I have done," he said quietly, almost as if he was thinking it over. "Selûne would never allow me to be with her, not after the things that I have done." You couldn’t help but hear the pain in his voice as he spoke. He truly wanted to be with her, and you could see that internal war happening in his head.

"But you can. You can show Selûne that you’re willing to give this all up and give yourself to her. You can show her that you’re willing to sacrifice power just to be with the one person that you truly love." You didn’t know why your voice wobbled or why it felt like you would cry, but then it hit you. You would give everything to be with Astarion; you would sacrifice yourself to see him if he had been taken from you. You would destroy the world or give yourself to a goddess just to see him one last time.

Thorm looked at you for a moment before nodding, and nothing but relief filled you. You weren’t sure if your body could take another fight right at this moment. “You’re right,” he said, “I can be with her, but I apologize for what happens next. I can’t stop it.” You froze at his words. What did he mean by those words? Before you could continue to think, Thorm threw himself over the edge into the green abyss.

Astarion scoffed as he looked at the others. “So you’re telling me all we had to do was convince him that he could see his wife, and he would just end any and all fighting for us? Why didn’t we do that sooner?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Just as he spoke his words, a rumble vibrated around them. Astarion opened his mouth to say something when a large skeletal hand reached up and slammed itself down in front of you, causing you to stumble back to avoid being smashed.

Another rumble sounded, but this time it sounded more like a groan. “I am the haunt of mausoleums, the god of graves and age,” a loud booming voice grumbled as a large figure started to emerge where Thorm had thrown himself. “Of dust and dusk. I am Myrkul, and you have slain my Chosen.” Your eyes widened in recognition. The god of death. You were about to go head-to-head with a god, and part of you just wanted to drop then and there. With your injuries, you had no idea if you would survive this. “But it is no matter, for I am Death. And I am not the end–I am a beginning,” it finished.

Beside you, you heard a gasp from Astarion and the others. “What in the nine hells is that thing?” he asked as you began to back away. The large skeletal figure reached out his hand, and a large scythe flew into his grasp. Sweat began to collect at your brow as the stinging in your side grew. You could taste the bile starting to rise in your throat, and the loss of blood started to catch up with you.

You didn��t miss how Shadowheart looked at you; she knew you were in pain, but you were relieved that the others were oblivious. Biting back a groan, you stood taller, letting your eyes focus on the being before you. “That is a god,” you grumbled, listening to Astarion let out a string of colorful words. Before you had any time to react, Myrkul swung his weapon down towards you, the tip of it catching your leg, causing you to let out a pained yell.

You weren’t sure if it was your yell that set them off or the sudden attack, but as you caught your balance, spells and arrows began to fly through the air toward Myrkul. The moment Dame Aylin was free of her confines, she let out a roar as she aimed to take down the god in front of you. Your head was spinning, and you felt as if the world would go black, but you kept pushing, determined to help your friends. Missiles shot from you, landing their mark as Myrkul let out a screech, swinging his weapons towards everyone. The fight felt as if it went on for hours, years even, before the sight of Astarion and Karlach were thrown off the raised area in which you were standing.

The sight of the lack of movement from Astarion sent a blinding rage through you. A loud and violent scream tore through you as panic filled your very being. You swung your weapon, landing hit after hit on the God of Death. It wasn’t until there was a loud screech from the god that you realized that he had fallen. The sight of Thorm now lying a few feet away from you put you in another blind rage. Stomping towards him, he looked up at you helplessly, fear filling his eyes at the sight of you. He was terrified of dying by your hand, but you paid no mind to the thought. Letting out another scream, you sunk your dagger into him, only to pull it from him and repeat the motions over and over. “This is your fault,” you seethe over and over, the blood coating your face in the process. The feeling of hands on your shoulders and a large body dragging you away had you kicking and screaming as you thrashed in their grip. “No, I need to send him back to where he came from, he doesn’t deserve to see her.” You scream, your eyes focused on the body before you.

A hand cups the back of your head as you’re spun around in the individual’s arms where they press your face to their broad chest. “He’ll get what’s coming to him, but you need to breathe, calm down.” Halsin. His low voice works to calm you as he massages his fingers into the back of your head just above where the now loose knot of your hair sits. You begin to feel your body relax as every ounce of rage leaves you and sobs begin to rack your body. “It’ll be alright, go to him, see if he’s okay,” Halsin whispers, slowly letting you go. You back away and welcome his touch as he wipes his thumbs under your eyes, swiping away any tears you had. He looked at you like you were his daughter, and he worried just like any father would.

Nodding, your gaze falls on Astarion before you scramble over to him, falling to your knees. Grabbing his face in your hands, you caress his cold cheeks before shaking him. “Astarion, wake up,” you grumble, shaking him again. “Wake up, or I swear to the Nine Hells I’ll sell my soul to make Raphael bring you back just so I can kill you myself.” You whimpered, when there was no response you let your head fall to rest on his chest as you squeezed your eyes shut.

A hand moves and places itself on the back of your head before you feel his chest rattle with a cough. “Who knew you were such a romantic, Darling, threatening to take my life all over again.” Your body snaps up as he keeps his head on the back of your head before moving it to rest on your cheek, caressing the skin gently.

Smacking his chest, you let out a sniffle as your muscles and wounds scream in pain. “I thought you died,” you sob, looking away from him. His laugh sent a wave of relief through you as his hand took yours.

“I couldn’t leave you, not after threatening to have Raphael bring me back just so you can do the job yourself; that threat was more terrifying than the god we just faced.” He jokes, causing you to let out a breathless laugh as you lean into his touch. “I’m not going anywhere, my sweet, you’re stuck with me.” Nodding, you help him to his feet as you turn to the others.

“Let's get out of here; we deserve to celebrate, especially since we finally broke the shadow curse. A night of drinking and sleep sounds perfect right about now.” You say, watching as your group, no your family, smile and let out a loud yell of celebration with Dame Aylin as she leads the cheers. This was your family, and one you would fight thousands of gods for, even if it means losing yourself in the process.

A/N: She was a long one, but I do hope you guys enjoyed it. I will be turning this into a small series as we get to explore the events that have taken place throughout thier adventure.

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douche-canoe-regatta · 1 year

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The River's kinda the River Styx, yeah? the boundary a soul crosses to get to the other side.

Jod makes that shit a maelstrom. he dumps billions of souls into an eternity of rush hour traffic in Boston. the Resurrection Beasts might as well be 20+ years of construction delays every time they show the fuck up.

What happens when you're stuck in traffic for 10,000 years? wouldn't you do anything to be anywhere, anywhere else? what's left of you after sloshing around in a kiddie pool brimming with furious assholes honking their billion horns for TEN THOUSAND FUCKING YEARS?

Oh yeah: every now & then some shitass lyctor (dead but loving it!) buzzes by on their jetski to shove angels through a massive anus (or whatever) & looks upon you with pure disgust. They call you "mad" and "driven insane" by the River. You're drowning in a tsunami of everyone you ever knew and loved at the behest of Capitalism and a religious nutjob who got caught up on cows while he hyperfixated on Getting His Way, but his BBFs & their soul slaves get to tool around making your bones into servants or monsters or soap or, ugh, decor.... so....that's great.

You're filth to them - trash. They don't even know. They can't. They haven't been allowed.

People keep turning onto the River (non) Expressway, by the way. It never stops. You've been down here 10,000 years. you've been drowning under rotting corpses for 10,000 years.

Abigail (by far the most reliable scholar on the subject of the River) is convinced there's another side. it's a fucking river, right? ask a toddler to draw a river and they'll make two lines with blue in the middle. there's always two sides! it's, like, the only requirement!!

So what's on the other side? how do you get off this ride?

Would you blame me if I tried?

#would you call me a devil #if i took the back way #through the secret door #your soul left open #the locked tomb #tlt #tlt meta #gideon the ninth #harrow the ninth #wild speculation #augustine the first #mercymorn the first

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arc-misadventures · 8 months

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Of Lego, And Men

Weiss: Jaune still plays with lego.

Bleiss: What?! The guys a grown ass adult, and he still plays with legos? The fuck is with him?

Weiss: Told you he was such an immature child. Can't believe he tried to flirt with me.

Bleiss: He tried to what?!

Weiss: He tried to flirt with me. It was terrible.

Bleiss: Motherfuck! That bastard son of a bitch thinks he can flirt with my sister?! Where is he, I'm gonna shove my heel so far up his ass it will poke through his skull!

Weiss: Yeah, go get him sister!

~~~

Bleiss: ARC!

Jaune: Ahh?! Oh... Hey, Bleiss, need something?

Bleiss: Heard you tried to flirt with my sister dumbass! Trying to seduce her with fucking legos.

Jaune: Hey! Lego is really fun to play with. I mean, you can build so many thing with them! There are so many interesting bricks that you could make anything with them. I mean, look at what I made! Can a kid make something like this?

Bleiss: What are you gonna show me? Some sort of kiddy… castle...?

Jaune: See! Look at the things I can create with lego! You think this was easy? It took me weeks to design: To properly place all the bricks so they fit nicely, to rebuilt the same part over, and over again to make sure it looked correct! to give it a proper human shape, and design, to make sure all the armour, and weapon attachments looked proper, and functional. To give it a soul of its own! If you can't see that then.. then you're just jealous because you've never played with lego before, and that's just sad.

Bleiss: ...

Bleiss: Y-You built this...?

Jaune: Yeah, and I'm proud of what I was able to create. You got a problem with that?!

Bleiss: ...

Bleiss: I'm gonna fuck you so hard, so long, and so good it will make an experienced succubus look like a blushing school girl virgin~!

Jaune: ...

Jaune: Excuse me what...?

#rwby #jaune arc #weiss schnee #bleiss schnee #jaune x bleiss #bleiss x jaune #rwby blackguard

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soulmusicsongs · 8 months

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Kids Soul, part 3

Kids soul in 12 songs: Children singing Soul Music

Big Things Come In Small Packages - The Young Gents (Big Things Come In Small Packages / Think About the Children, 1969)

Don't Let The Devil Ride - The Johnson Spiritual Singers – Don't Let The Devil Ride, 197?)

I Call It Pretty Music But The Old People Call It The Blues - Little Stevie Wonder (I Call It Pretty Music But The Old People Call It The Blues, part 1 / I Call It Pretty Music But The Old People Call It The Blues, part 2, 1962)

I'm Hip To Your Game - Renaldo Domino & The Orientations (I'm Hip To Your Game / I Love My Girl, 1967)

It Rained 40 Days & Nights - Little Jimmy Scott (It Rained 40 Days & Nights / Do You Get The Message, 1968)

Jersey Slide (Pt. I) - 3 Stars (Jersey Slide (Pt. I) / Jersey Slide (Pt. II), 1971)

Mom (Can I Talk To You?) - Jan Rhodes (Mom (Can I Talk To You?) / Chasin’ Honey, 1968)

Momma Love Tequilla - Jr. And His Soulettes (Psychodelic Sounds, 1971)

Party - Little George N' The Mixed Generation (Party / Listen, 1974)

Shoe Shine - Flame (Shoe Shine / If You Don't Want Me, 1979)

Stand On The Word - The Joubert Singers (Stand On The Word, 1985)

Struggling For Survival - Little Ed & The Soundmasters Band (Struggling For Survival / It's A Dream, 196?)

More Soul Songs

Kids Soul

Kiddie soul, part 2

Old People Soul

Think about the kids in 10 songs

#Kiddie soul #Kids Soul #Soul #Soul Music #Soul Music Songs #Music #Music Songs #Soul Music List

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obsessedwrhys · 30 days

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Damaged Souls

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ Grieving him, fluff, angst, relationship between reader and Joel is plantonic (father figure), reader is like the stone cold typa person (this is for the traumatised kiddies!!!), this fic is almost like a prequel to my ellie fic, reader is fem!!

ᯓ★

From how you two became acquainted. You knew Joel through Tess and at the time you were still a kid. But what you didn't expect was for the grumpy man to end up taking care of you after Tess died, going from some guy who comes to visit frequently to the only person you trusted with your life.

Even when Joel was ready to kill everyone in a hospital to save Ellie, you too were ready to do the same. For her and for him. After everything that went down, you agreed to keep the truth about what happened from Ellie. It was like you two had a mutual understanding.

So the moment you three moved into Jacksons, things were somehow looking brighter for your life. Though even good things didn't last forever. Eventually Ellie found out about everything. Going as far as to stomping into your home to initiate an argument that left you two on bad terms.

Now you felt hopeless... the only friend you cared about gone like that.

The winter became colder. The breeze stronger.

You rest your hands on the fence as you stood at your front porch, with nothing to do but to just enjoy the scenery. You were in your sweater and wearing a beanie as well as putting on a pair of mittens. Even with the pretty view, your mind were clouded with worries, worries concerning you and Ellie.

Is it more lonely to be hated or ignored? You wondered.

"Hey" Your eyes perked up as you turned to your side to see Joel approaching your house.

"What are you doing here?" You asked but he just brushes your words off. You watch him step up on your porch.

"How you holdin' up kid?" He stands beside you, mirroring your posture.

"You don't need to ask me, I'm good, you should check up on Ellie instead" You said which had him nodding his head with an amused smirk.

"I know, you're capable... but I'm still askin" He looks at you but you couldn't bring yourself to even look at him.

In a way you felt embarrassed, you always did whenever he cared for you, because almost your whole life you never showed your need for it.

"Won'tcha talk to me? What's botherin' you? Hm?" He nudges you slightly, almost playfully.

You sigh in defeat.

"I'm... scared...." You uttered almost too quietly that if it weren't for the quiet storm he wouldn't have heard you.

"What are you scared of?"

"Everything. Whatever that happens next" You suddenly rest both your elbows on the fence without even realising, seeming like the nerves have gotten to you.

"I'm scared of ending up alone" You admitted and he nods to your words out of understanding.

"Life's full of surprises kid... it's best you let go of those worries, you ain't gonna survive if you keep thinking like that" He stands up, straightening his back.

"You speak like I have a choice"

"You do"

Just then, he grabbed you by the chin to have you face him. With his other hand, he presses the tip of his index finger on your forehead. You didn't fight back but just bat your eyelashes at him.

"These thoughts... they're nothin' but problems you've overcomplicate. One day you'll see that things are better than how you perceived it. I'm sayin' this cause I care about ya" He said, staring directly into your gaze.

"You think Ellie would forgive me? For killing multiple innocents for her?" You raised an eyebrow.

"We did what we had to" He said as he lets go of you to grab onto the fence, staring off into the forest.

"She doesn't seem to see it that way"

"Just give her time"

"That's what I've been doing"

He could tell that from your tone you were frustrated. He was too, Ellie has been ignoring him as well but for some reason he doesn't seem as affected as you are. It made you curious.

"How are you not upset by all this?" You asked.

"... well... this is the kind of things you've gotta deal with once you have kids" He chuckles softly to himself but he clears his throat when he realised you were genuinely interested in his reason.

"Look... what I'm tryna say is... you and Ellie... you're both like daughters to me. It don't matter if we fight or what, I'll still be patient with ya'll, no matter how long the time takes" He said, placing a hand on your shoulder that instinctively made you turn to look at him.

"And how long is that gonna take?" You said, your gaze softening without even noticing.

"As long as it needs to be"

His response leaving you silent for a while. You turned to look away, thinking of the right words to say before looking back at him, but even with the time taken to think, you couldn't bring yourself to say it. His hand from your shoulder now moving to your back to give you a comforting pat.

"I'll leave you to your morning routine, I know how much you hate people interruptin you" He pointed out but you could hear him chuckle as he said it.

Without realising it ,you watched him start to leave, his back turned to you as your mouth was agape. You wanted to call out to him to say what you wanted to say but you were also too embarrassed to do so... so you let him go.

What you didn't realise was that that would end up being your biggest mistake.

The next day you were sent to go on patrol with him, the patrol was going well until a heavy storm hit, next thing you know you both were swarmed with infected. Having to encounter another girl and saving her, she was able to lead you guys to somewhere safe. Only to be lead into another trap.

The sound of a gunshot going off had your heart race, your eyes widening at the sight of Joel having his knee shot. Even with your struggle against the people pinning you down, it wasn't enough but everything went pitch black the moment you endured a punch to the face.

Then it was quiet.

But your consciousness came back. Slowly cries of a familiar voice woke you up. You almost wished you hadn't opened your eyes when you saw the sight waiting for you. He was bloody, hardly recognisable. You could only watch in disbelief as he was being held by Ellie in her arms, tears streaming down her cheek.

Even then, during his funeral, you couldn't even show up. It was too much. You were there with him when it happened. You felt as though you could have stopped it. You knew something felt off so why didn't you notice anything sooner?

The guilt was like a void drowning you in.

Just like that you spent your day pondering about the what ifs and alternative scenarios of what could have been. You made yourself coffee but the sound of you pouring into your cup was soon interrupted by the sound of knocking on your front door.

You let out a sigh before putting down the cups and then heading off to check who it was. When you opened the door, for a split second, an image of Joel appeared and it made you froze in place. Your mind was busy registering what happened that Tommy, who's the person that knocked, stared at you concerningly.

"You alright?" He asked and your lips moved but no words came out.

"I uh yeah... fine... I just haven't had my coffee yet" You said, quickly thinking of an excuse for your behaviour. He nods, seeming convinced.

"Well I just wanted to drop by and see how you were doing. Lot of the folks were beginnin' to worry about ya, they say they haven't seen you around lately" He said and the reality of the outside world was crushing on you.

"I'm good" You said but his face was showing how he wasn't taking it.

"I highly doubt that... but I'm not sayin' I blame ya... everyone's going through it. I just hope you know you're not alone" He said, nodding his head at you out of encouragement.

"... thanks..." You could only say and he looks at you for a while to study your well being before finally leaving.

Even after he left, you didn't go back in your house to get back to your morning coffee. Instead your fingertips scratches at the wood of the door as you began to overthink, one thought overtaking the other rapidly. You've tried multiple solutions to solve this problem but none seemed to work so far. That was until you had an idea.

An idea you might hate but was willing to try.

Putting on your coat, you left the house and decided to walk towards your destination. On the way you could see multiple people going about their days. The sight of seeing parents getting along with their kids made your heart ache which made you look away.

You tend to distant yourselves from the kids at Jacksons.

It wasn't done out of hate or anything.

It was out of envy.

Their innocence were somehow still preserved from the cruelty of this world.

Because how is it that you never got to experience that at a young age?

And when you did experience the safety that you longed for from someone.

It eventually melts away like a lit candle... until it's nothing but just melted wax.

The sound of your shoes crunching on the snow stops the moment you stood at the location you had in mind. You could only stare down at him, his grave, decorated with flowers and messages. In a way you felt better knowing so many people looked up to him the way you did.

Then you looked around to make sure there was nobody nearby that could potentially see what you were doing. Being out in the open after shutting everyone out made you felt a sort of guilt. But you also wondered is it really guilt for putting yourself first?

You cleared your throat as you look back down at his grave. Your breath like smoke from the cold weather.

"I uh... I don't really know what to say..." You uttered and you stayed quiet for a moment before finally saying something again.

"I'm sorry... for everything. For letting this happen. You didn't deserve this" You shut your eyes, trying to control the pace of your breathing.

"I'm scared. I'm so fucking scared. I don't know what to do with myself now that you're not here. I want you back... fuck... e-every day I wish you'd just walk up to my house to give me one of your talks. Hh... I really miss you. I fucking miss your voice" You sobbed, tears welling up your eyes as your nose was clogged, making it hard for you to even breath.

"I know I suck and I'm sorry for always being such an asshole to you. Just come back. Please. I fucking beg you" You got on your knees and could only stare hopelessly at his grave. Some part of you inside still not accepting the reality of this.

"I wish I got to tell you how happy I would have been to be your daughter. You're a cool dad. You're the only dad I actually have in this hell hole. Somehow you made me feel loved" You said, the words you've wanted to tell him that day finally coming out.

"I don't wanna be alone. I don't wanna feel these things... please... please..." You trailed off, muttering to yourself that you failed to notice the butterfly fluttering around you... before settling down on his headstone.

The very fear that you've prayed would never come true had became reality.

You were now alone.

You really lost the very same people who said they would stay your side forever.

Your hands than clawed at the snow, the sadness in your chest slowly transforming into rage. Hatred. You could feel your head almost pop from it. The tears feeling cold under your burning cheek. You stare at his grave, your gaze sharp.

"I'm gonna hunt them down... I'll find whoever that girl is... and I'm gonna kill her even if it takes away what humanity I have left in me" You said, a promise.

The butterfly on the headstone flutters its wings at you, almost like it's trying to say something but soon it flies away. You simply watch it go before standing up on your feet and heading back, getting ready for your hunt for revenge.

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nonas-third-tantrum · 1 year

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I’m trying to figure out when exactly Pyrrha realized that Nona was Alecto. I had been thinking that it was after Kiriona woke up, because at that point Pyrrha would have understood that Nona’s eyes came from Alecto, not Gideon, but I think it may have actually been a bit earlier…

After the fight between Ianthe and Cam, when Pyrrha and Nona go off to find the corpse, Nona tells Pyrrha that she’s dying, and Pyrrha says, “‘Course you are…the soul longs for the body, Nona. Even a fucked up soul…even a soul that’s been changed forever. It takes a lot to acclimate a soul to a body it wasn’t born in, if that original body’s around for it to miss.”

Now, she could still be talking about Gideon. BUT something about the way she phrases this, with the “fucked up soul that’s been changed forever” …feel free to disagree but to me that sounds a heck of a lot like Alecto. I think it’s possible that Pyrrha has even worked out Alecto’s true nature, so when she refers to the ‘original body’ she could be talking about the planet earth itself.

Pyrrha goes on to say, “Kiddie, when you were yelling…” but she trails off and doesn’t get to finish her sentence. We know that Nona “screamed like the captain had screamed.” We also know that when the captain screams, Nona hears her speaking in varun’s voice, and it’s interesting that Pyrrha describes it as yelling, not screaming, which to mean indicates that Nona may have said something. Something that alerts Pyrrha to the fact that Nona is not who they’ve all been thinking she is.

Yes - Pyrrha does say within the next couple of pages that Gideon’s body “might be you, kiddie.” But I don’t think that necessarily means she doesn’t at least suspect that Nona is someone else. I know the rest of that scene heavily implies that Pyrrha still thinks Nona is Gideon…but I’m suspicious. I think what she wants to believe and what she knows to be true might not match up.

This post is getting away from me but I just have to add that after the roof incident, both Nona and Pyrrha know who she is, and Nona is desperate to keep herself in the dark. Pyrrha starts to call Nona “A…” but Nona stops her and begs her not to make her remember. And then Nona slips into her Alecto self, and mocks Pyrrha for playing house with her (hello, more doll references), and that must absolutely break Pyrrha’s heart, but she lets it go.

So when Pyrrha finally says her “what’s like except a love that hasn’t been invited indoors?” speech, she’s reckoning with her feelings towards both Nona and Alecto, has probably been wrestling with those feelings for a while, and it’s just. So devastating. Pyrrha loved Nona. Nona loved and was loved by Palamedes, Camilla, and Pyrrha.

But Alecto? Nona is terrified that when she realizes who she is, she won’t love anything. We know that John loved Alecto, and I think we can infer that Anastasia did too, and Alecto loved them back. But then Pyrrha tells us that she and Gideon liked Alecto, and for some reason that feels even more significant to me—maybe because there are all kinds of twisted love in these books and to like someone, while less intense, is more…mundane. There aren’t a lot of instances in these books where people just like each other, plain and simple. And I think that the love everyone has for Nona is a lot less complicated than the other types of love we’re shown. Truly a like that’s been invited indoors.

#does this make any sense #I just really need to know more about everyone’s relationship with alecto #don’t even get me started on ‘love is a revenant’#pyrrha dve please tell me what’s going on with you in this book #what does she know??#pyrrha dve #nona the ninth #nona the ninth spoilers #ntn spoilers #alecto the ninth #the locked tomb #tlt #tlt analysis #tlt meta

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queenendless · 9 months

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❤️‍🩹 Period (Adult!Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader) ❤️‍🩹

A/N: So much chaos happened at home last Friday in tune with my time of the month. Things are better now. And today's newest episode ... oh God. Next week and beyond is gonna crush my soul.

Ergo writing self indulgent comfort fics to quell the soul. Just period stuff, fluff, comfort, basically Gojo being the #1 boyfriend/husbando~

All credit to characters and image below goes to Gege sensei. PLEASE DON'T STEAL OR COPY MY WORK, RATHER LIKE AND REBLOG. I hope you enjoy.

Menstrual cycles are quite the monthly hassle.

The first day came today.

Curled up on the couch, trying to relax despite the mixed emotions coursing through your hormonal state when your phone pinged about a notification.

(Heyyyyy~)

You could imagine his cheery, upbeat voice singing it out loud that made you smile at least at the thought of it.

(Hey.)

(Missions are done! Errands done! Souvenir shopping time~! Ya want anything?)

You whined weakly as your hand clutched your now swollen tummy.

(Can you pick up some pads and or tampons and pain relievers on the way back?)

(Mother nature calling?)

(Yeah.)

(KK. Imma get the munchies. Sweet? Salty?)

You texted him your preferences.

(♡)

You smiled, sending him one more message.

(。・ω・。)

After being gone for 10 days straight, you couldn't wait to see him again.

After changing in the bathroom, you had closed the door behind yourself when you felt a familiar cursed presence appear behind the front door of your shared apartment, followed by the clacking sound of dress boots being taken off.

"Y/n~! I'm home~!"

The boosted hormonal wave crashing into you had you tearing up at the sight of your blindfolded giant sorcerer lover before barreling over into a tight bear hug.

"Oya oya~ What is this~?" Gojo lifted you up under your arms, bringing your blubbering face right in front of his, teeth gleaming in that smug ass smile. "My sweet angel is shedding tears for me~? Oh I'm flattered~!"

You wacked your fists and feet into him — though Infinity was making sure they did not connect. "You can go off on your ego boost after I lay down, god damn Toru!"

Gojo's enriching deep chuckle left you fuzzy as he carried you up in one arm, waving his bag of goodies in your face. "Okie dokie!" He plopped you down on the couch, dropping the bag in your lap, then dipped his head down. "Time for kissies~!"

His deep smooch was smothering – in a sweet laced good way.

"Gojo," His giant hands cradled your face, tilting you as he kissed you from a different angle, making it very difficult to focus. "Uh–!" His many tender pecks peppered many times on your lips, feeling his warm breath brush your moistness. "My heating pad." You giggled as his lips wandered to your cheek, then your neck, your mental processing faltering from his insisting distracing lips. "Please?"

His disappointed whine dispersed as your hands ruffled his propped up spiky snow white hair, kissing his cheek. "Alright alright." His exasperated sigh was betrayed by his mirthful expression as he pecked your nose then stalked off to your shared bedroom, startling you from his shouting voice down the hall. "Uh sweetie?! The battery in this is dead!"

You swore under your breath, whimpering as a finicky upset kiddie from the cramps, before pulling a small capped bottle of Ibuprofen out of the bag. "Could you go out and buy a replacement?" You asked as you downed two small capsules with water from your water bottle.

"Hmm … I could … OR!"

Feeling tall lean firmness behind you made you nearly flail off the couch hard, caught by those dark blue sleeved arms of his.

"Toru! One of these days, warping is gonna give me a heart attack, I swear to God!"

"Unless it's by a Death Note, I think not."

"God." You grumbled as he snatched your small Roku control before turning on the big HD TV as you rummaged out a small package of your munchies. "What about my heating pa – ?"

You stopped speaking, shuddering as his giant hand slid underneath the hem of your top, resting on your bulging tummy, rubbing his fingers soothingly slowly around your bulge.

"You were saying?" His sultry voice purred in your ear.

You shakily breathed at how hot he sounded.

You felt yourself melting against him, his skin being more than enough to chase the discomfort away. "I never thought I'd find a blindfolded giant so hot." You shyly, shamelessly admitted.

"And you're my warm marshmallow." Gojo laughed.

You rolled your eyes, grinning as you ripped the bag open, offering some of it to him behind you, knowing whatever you ate he'd want as well. "Stuff that mouth of yours already, you goof."

His delighted hum, nuzzling his head atop yours, cradling your belly softly, it all relaxed your hormonally effed up nerves.

Binging Netflix, eating some snacks, cuddling on the couch, this is what you missed.

Gojo especially missed this.

For even the strongest sorcerer of the modern age was also the loneliest man there ever was. Exorcizing curses, flipping off the stingy higher ups, watching his students progress from afar, so much done and yet he would stay restless until he felt you in his arms again.

Chewing on more munchies by the handful, he felt your form laxing. Looking down, vocally aweing at the sight of your open mouthed self, your form slowly and softly rising then descending as you breathed, nodding off in the middle of watch time.

He knew these monthly visits from Mother Nature meant you'd be more moody, more drained, so a relaxed sleeping Y/n was the better outcome to receive.

Even in this corrupted present world, he hoped his students, friends and allies would one day be at his level to help him bring down the current world and make it anew. Better for the good souls out there.

Especially for the one that's been filling the emptiness left inside him the most.

Lowering down the volume, he set the remote aside on the coffee table before the couch, watching as you mumble slurry discontent at having his hands leave you.

Gojo Satoru. Your resident heating pad. Noted.

Wiping his hand with some stray napkins you left on the table then leaving the opened half empty snack bag there as well, he turned you carefully on your side so your front would mesh with his, absorbing his warmth into you, the pinched frown on your face melting into that smile he adores so much, nuzzling your cheek into his jacketed chest.

Sliding his hands beneath the hem again, he began rubbing circles in your back, eating up the sight of the shivers your dreaming self gave off, firmly kissing the side of your head as he became lost in your scent.

Lost in this slice of heaven as the troubles of his life and the rest of this world seemed to wash away, he drifted off to nap-ville only to meet you there himself, murmuring words to imprint his biggest constant thought in all your time spent apart.

"I missed you too."

Ah, it's good to be home.

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angelsanarchy · 2 months

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Righteousness of Man: Kappa x Y/N- Mini Series PRT 02

Tagging: @icarus-star @ithinkitstimetonap @kappasbbgirl @chainsawgvtsfvck @luzclarita57 @miniisunshine @romanroyapoligist @madamemaximoff06 @thirtyratsinasuit @ethical-cain-vinnel @blueberrypancakesworld @dumbbitchdelrey @loljustignoreth4t @tvgirlsbluehair @s0ulfulll @mommymilkers0526 @vomiting-blood @ultrakissed @hisemoslut @lustkillers @s-0lar @roryculkinsgf dukesofsp00ks thirtyratsinasuit

Y/n had decided to stick around camp for awhile and Kappa made it his mission to incorporate her into the family as seamlessly as possible. The two of them had a way of moving about the camp watching one another's every move.

Kappa found the way she spoke with the others and brought a level of comfort just from gentle touches to their faces or arms made everyone calmer. It was very motherly. He pondered the idea of having her teach all the girls how to be as soft and gentle as she was.

Y/n found listening to Kappa rant around the bonfire was both entertaining and educational. He spoke with such conviction that the others listened to him like he was preaching gospel straight to their souls.

"They're trying to take over. Soon enough, there will be metal rods in all of us, puppetting around like mindless robots. It's fucking disgusting." Kappa spit into the fire. Tonight's topic was based on the technological advancement that NASA had come up with sending astronauts to space but allowing them to have animatronic vessels here on Earth that could be present with their families.

The idea of robots taking over the world made Y/n chuckle to herself and it caught Kappa's attention.

"Y/n....do you have some thoughts on the matter you wish to share?" His tone was challenging and she simply shrugged her shoulders as she leaned back in the chair, holding onto a beer bottle.

"It's the American Dream isn't it? Father goes off to work while mother stays home and raises the nuclear kiddies, only now dear old daddy can be working around the clock while mommy gets to ride on a mechanical cock instead of the flesh and blood kind." She smirked. Some of the others laughed and Kappa knelt down opposite her, the large fire between them.

"No machine could ever compare to weighted flesh of the real thing." Kappa palmed at the front of his slacks and Y/N smirked.

"I don't know, I think unless you've used one then you can't really speak on its efficiency." Y/n knew she was pushing it and Kappa held her gaze. He was clearly getting worked up. His silence meant he was annoyed. It had only taken her a few days of being here to know that his silence could bring punishment.

As people started to retire to their cabins, Y/n remained in her seat, watching Kappa places kisses on his adoring flock of women who begged him to fall into their beds but he refused. He made his way towards Y/n who looked up at him as he stood towering over her.

"Left all your little minions heartbroken tonight? How will they survive without the weight of your flesh and blood cock?" Y/n continued to pick at Kappa and he grabbed her chin forcefully making her stop.

"Why would you defend the government taking over the human race?" Kappa's tone was serious.

"What?" She tried to laugh it off but his grip tightened.

"Who do you work for?" He asked curiously. Y/n held his gaze strongly.

"Technically I don't work for anyone. I'm self employed." She tried to give him the straight answers he was looking for.

"So a government contractor, is that it?" Kappa pressed stepping closer, trapping her in the chair.

"Let go of my face." She hardend herself but Kappa didn't budge.

"Darlin' if you think just because we've fucked that I won't toss you into that fire, you're sadly mistaken. I asked you a question." Kappa threatened squatting down to stare into her face.

"You want to hurt me because I challenged you in front of your people or because I think a robot cock is just as useful is your own?" Y/n bit back.

"You want to fuck something that feels nothing? That's what you want? That poison running through your veins?" Kappa flips out his knife and holds it to her throat.

"You want to kill me? Go for it." She tilts her head back exposing her neck to him. Kappa pressed gently drawing the slightest bit of red blood before wrapping his hand around her throat.

"I am trying to build a community here, something real. Something that will survive when the world goes to shit and the machines try and take over." Kappa growled.

"You think I don't realize that? You think I've stayed for the fun bonfires and fucking?" Y/n asked making Kappa release the pressure of her throat.

"You are the leader here Kappa. To them, you are a God among men. They feel safe and empowered with you and they should." Y/n could see him taking in everything she was saying.

"And you...what do you stay for then?" Kappa asked almost nervously.

"Every great man has a woman at his side reminding him of his potential." Y/n leaned forward towards Kappa.

"And you think you're going to be that woman?" Kappa challenged. Y/n shook her head at him.

"I am that woman." Her breath against his lips made his eyelashes flutter. He stood straight up and held his hand out for her to take but instead of taking his hand, she played with the front of his pants. Carefully unlooping his belt and resting her face against the zipper, long enough to take in his musk and grip the zipper with her teeth.

"Come to bed with me." Kappa lifted her chin gently this time and she refused.

"I want to feel the weight of your flesh and blood cock on my tongue..." She pulled his slacks down his legs and his cock hung heavy between his legs, slightly curved to the left and sprung from a heavy bushel of dark, coarse hair.

Y/n leaned forward and licked his already wet tip, listening to him take a deep breath in through his nose as she peppered little wet kisses over the skin, lapping at the precum.

"You want to be a God among men Kappa? Fuck the word of man into my throat then." Y/n's words made him look down as she held his eye contact while she took him into her throat deeply. He let his jaw slack as she drooled all over his cock, sucking and gargling on his thick cock. She let used her hands to stroke the length she couldn't fit into her mouth and massage his balls.

"Fuck...your throat is sinful." He brought his hands to his face and tried pushing his hair out of his eyes. He wanted to see Y/n take him down. He wanted to see her sacrifice air for his pleasure. He held the sides of her head and fucked into her throat harshly, feeling her moan at the contact of the tip hitting the back of her throat roughly.

His moans and the sound of the fire behind him were the only sounds that could be heard for miles.

"I'm going to cum and I want you to swallow every last drop. I want you to taste something machines could never produce. I want you to feel my cum in your belly tonight when you sleep and know that a little piece of me lives inside of you forever." Kappa whined as he yanked on the top of her hair so she would stare into his eyes, tears rolling down her flushed cheeks. He held her gaze as he released into her throat, watching her eyes roll into the back of her head as she swallow around him. When he softened, she slowly pulled back, letting his cock fall semi-limp against his thigh. She leaned back trying to catch her breath but instead of allowing that he yanked her to her feet by her shoulders and kissed her.

He could taste himself on her tongue and she gripped his greasy hair between her fingers tightly as she kissed back. When she pulled away, he wiped the tear streaks off her face carefully and leaned his forehead against hers.

"Don't leave...ever." Kappa's tone sounded like a plea rather than a demand and Y/n smiled. This was only the beginning.

#TV Show: Black Mirror #Kappa #Kappa x Y/n #Black Mirror Mini Series #Righteousness of Man series #One Shot Mini Series #Rory Culkin #Culkin Cult #Righteousness of Man

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