#My Son Sanctuary

[sulphurousvisions]

My Son Sanctuary Vietnam

Kodak SO 553 expired around 2005

[travelernight]

Vietnam’s Best-Kept Secrets Top 10 Hidden Wonders Revealed

[southeastasianarchaeology]

12th-Century Sacred Road Uncovered at My Son Sanctuary

A 12th-century sacred road leading into My Son Sanctuary's central area was unearthed in Vietnam, marking a significant historical discovery for Champa architectural heritage.

via Vietnam Plus, 09 April 2024: A 12th-century road has been discovered at the My Son Sanctuary in Quang Nam, Vietnam, during an archaeological excavation. This road, measuring 9 meters in width and over 150 meters in length, is believed to have been a sacred path leading into the central area of the sanctuary, previously unknown to researchers. The excavation, a joint effort by the Institute of…

[haeyeongs]

When I felt like I would hate you, I begged in my head "Please, don't even let him catch a cold", "Please don't let him suffer from a hangover" MY LIBERATION NOTES (2022)

[borealwrites]

Whenever there was a storm, Iruka remembers his parents hiding him away. The barrier seals that cover his windows dull the thunder into a low rumble, like how he remembers the sea, and all he can see through the glass is an inky darkness. Those seals are the first ones they teach him, and they tell him to always have them on hand.

When he’s a little older, he asks why he can’t watch the storm like his friends. They tell him that around when he was born, there was a terrible storm that lasted for weeks. In desperation, his grandfather prayed to the storm gods, offering up his newly born grandson as a sacrifice if they would make them stop. And the storms stopped. Unwilling to let such a fate befall their child, his parents took him and fled to Konoha.

Iruka isn’t sure he believes in storm gods, but he loves his parents. Then the kyuubi comes, and suddenly gods don’t seem so fake anymore. So he covers his room at the orphanage and then his apartment with wards, and bites back the defensiveness when Mizuki makes fun of him. It isn’t the thunder and lightning he’s afraid of, it’s what they could bring.

When storms are coming, he can feel his skin crawl, like someone is watching him. Iruka strengthens the wards on his apartment and doesn’t take missions, instead hiding away in the Hokage Tower, where nobody can touch him. Some storms make it feel like someone if pounding at his barriers. On those nights he tucks himself into the corner of his apartment, as far from his windows as he can, and huddles under a blanket, wishing he weren’t so alone.

But Iruka cannot outrun and avoid storms forever. There’s a stillness in the air when he’s assigned a mission with Hatake Kakashi that he cannot refuse. Overhead the clouds are full and heavy with rain, and there’s a tinge of ozone that sets Iruka’s nerves on edge. Thunder rumbles in the distant sky when they find the enemy’s trail, and the clouds burst upon first clash.

It takes every bit of Iruka’s skill to keep from being overwhelmed. The enemy is too strong, and his heart too soft. All the warnings his parents repeated tug at him, and he’s too distracted.

Lightning strikes the tree that Iruka’s opponent is crouched in, close enough he can feel the heat. The air is saturated with enough chakra that Iruka feels drunk off it, even as it makes his hair stand on end. Blinking to clear the searing light from his eyes, Iruka chokes on a gasp.

Before him stands Kakashi, his arm buried in the chest of the now very crispy enemy ninja, sparks of electricity arcing almost lazily across his body. With a flick of his wrist Kakashi’s arm is free, and he glares down at the corpse. Something feels wrong, and while Iruka’s common sense screams at him to move, he feels rooted to the spot. Two eyes, one storm cloud grey and the other heat lightning red, lock onto his.

Kakashi’s hand, the one that had just killed a man, cups Iruka’s cheek. Once, while experimenting with seals, Iruka had shocked himself with a raiton based seal. It had hurt, and left his arm numb for two days. The merest brush of Kakashi’s fingers brings the same feelings for half a second before subsiding into a strange tingling sensation.

“I can finally touch you, my Iruka, my bride,” Kakashi’s voice was a low growl, an almost predatory sound that made Iruka jerk back. As soon as he broke contact with Kakashi, it seemed like all of Iruka’s strength left him. Like a puppet with cut strings he collapsed, and was only saved by Kakashi gathering him into his arms.

“Rest, Iruka. I’ll take care of everything else,” Kakashi cooed, and Iruka found himself helpless to resist. His last thought before he sank into unconsciousness was if his parents would be disappointed he didn’t fight harder.

This can now be found, in an expanded version, on Ao3

[bucketfullofstrawberries]

Have a Guy for your troubles

[gingermintpepper]

I know everyone knows the story of Actaeon and how he met a terrible fate by stumbling upon Artemis bathing in her forest but did you know that Actaeon was Apollo's grandson? That his father was Aristaeus, lord of the bees and the rustic arts and his mother was Autonoe, daughter of Cadmus and princess of Thebes?

Did you know he was trained by Chiron? That he was considered a hunter so skilled his talent was considered divine, that he was his parents' only child and that he was loved?

Did you know the grief that consumed the household when word of Actaeon's fate reached them? That Cadmus cut his hair, that Harmonia wept and was disconsolate and that his parents... well, Autonoe walked the length of the forest, keeping a sharp eye out for her son, but all she saw were the scattered bones of a fawn. Aristaeus too, had heard his son was torn apart and so fruitlessly, foolishly searched for the bones of a man. (There was none to be found)

Did you know that it was Actaeon's ghost, unhappy and unburied, trapped on the earth, who leaned over his sleeping father and told him of his fate? "You will not find me as you knew me, gather me as a stag." And Aristaeus immediately woke his wife and told her the truth, and together they grieved all the night long.

(Did you know that this is why Aristaeus abandons Boeotia? He could not stand the sight of it and so he went to Ceos. And there he slayed the dog-star. And there he became a healing wind. All in the name of his only son, that foolish, beloved Actaeon.)

[azertyrobaz]

Grogu’s point of view

[nokomento]

now the more meme or chibi (or both) arts of my son

[sulphurousvisions]

My Son Sanctuary Vietnam

Kodak SO 553 expired around 2005

[shalebridgecradle]

TESFest, Day 4

TESFest, Day 4 - mortal / sanctuary - @tes-summer-fest summary: 2,082 words; PG. Home is where you hide your Elder Scroll. No content warnings. housekeeping note: based off a pipe dream I once had of rewriting the plot of Dawnguard because...well... *gestures broadly*...you know. This fic assumes Serana wouldn't want to bring an Elder Scroll back to Castle Volkihar and the waiting arms of her probably-still-prophecy-obsessed father.

Serana regards the weatherworn chest before her with open suspicion. With the tip of her index finger she lifts the lid. Hinges creak. Wood shifts. She doesn’t even examine the contents before letting the lid slam shut again in a whumpf of dust.

She whirls on the two adventurers behind her, arms folded across her chest, brow furrowed. “This is the most absurd idea I’ve ever heard.”

“It’s…unorthodox,” Eira - on her left - concedes. Her teeth worry over her lower lip as she thinks. “But I suppose it could work.”

“It will work.” Erik gestures to the chest as if inviting Serana to take another look. “This is the safest spot in Skyrim. I promise,” he adds, puffing faintly with pride.

“Because a stripling couldn’t understand how to work a lock growing up?” Serana scoffs, heedless of the way Erik’s smile fades. She rolls her shoulders, shifting her cargo around into her arms. “We’ll look for somewhere in Solitude. A…they do still have vaults, right?”

“Well, yes, but–”

Heavy footsteps overhead interrupt the debate. Three sets of eyes dart towards the floorboards up above. Dust falls in a steady line headed right toward the basement steps. 

Erik winces. “I thought he was asleep.”

A moment later and Mralki’s broad, bare feet appear on the top few steps, followed shortly by the rest of him. He tugs at his nightshirt with one hand, the other hand holding a lantern aloft. “Try and keep your voices down. Erik, you know Sissel’s a light sleeper.” Then his gaze falls on the aging chest they’ve arrayed themselves around, and then on Serana and the oversized, ornamented scroll cradled in her arms.

Mralki considers them a long moment before he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. “You found another–of course you did. What have I told you about bringing priceless artifacts under this roof?”

“It won’t be staying,” Serana answers, at the same time as Erik, looking down at his boots, mumbles something about intending to tell him in the morning.

“You want to hide an Elder Scroll in my basement, and you thought telling me could wait until morning? What else have you hid down here? Ysmir’s beard?” Mralki lifts the lantern higher as if to look. 

It’s Eira who stops him, with a gentle smile that makes wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. “You’re right; we should have told you. It’s only that we need a place to stow it for a few days, safe from Serana’s family.”

“And that isn’t here,” is Serana’s grumbled retort. Mralki nods his agreement.

Eira’s hands rest on her hips. “I’m not convinced a bank vault is any better,” she murmurs, setting off a fresh round of debate between herself and Serana.

“Listen,” Erik interrupts, motioning to the chest. “If you were looking for an Elder Scroll, where would you go?”

Serana’s retort is dry and immediate: “Where I know where to find one.”

Eira’s palm bounces in the air as if weighing the question before she speaks. “I’d start with the Imperial Library, I suppose. Or the College.”

“Or an ancient ruin, lost to the ages.” Erik almost bounces on his toes as he concludes, “But would you look in an innkeeper’s basement?”

“Does the innkeeper get a say in this at all?”

Erik’s eyes dart to his father, wide and pleading. “It’d only be for a few days. And my point is that no one would think to look for it here. Would they? Serana?”

“My father suspected I took the scroll when I was…sent away. If he’s still…” She shakes her head; stops the thoughts there. “He could try to retrace my steps, looking for it.”

“That sounds like a long line of ifs, to me.” Eira’s shoulder to shoulder with Erik now, or as close as their differing heights will allow. Shoulder to elbow. “This is still better than delivering it into his hands.”

“Is it? How can I trust him?” She points a pale, slender finger in Mralki’s direction. The innkeeper draws back, eyebrow arched, despite the distance between them. “Better yet, how can I trust you?” 

Erik stammers over the first words of a reply. It’s Mralki who cuts him short. “The same way I’m going to have to trust that you won’t hurt my son or Eira, whatever it is you’re mixed up in.”

Serana’s lips narrow to a thin line. She and Mralki stare at one another, arms folded in near-identical poses of defiance. Some things, it seems, translate well enough across the millennia. 

“I see.” She hugs the scroll closer to her chest. Her yellow eyes narrow, a faint gleam in the swirling candlelight.

Then a sigh. She turns, fast enough to swirl her long dark cloak behind her,  and lifts the lid of the chest once more. Aging armor clanks and shifts as she moves it about to settle the scroll in place. By the time she’s done, only a hint of a handle peeks out, a glimmer in the dim light. 

“I’ll be back to claim it, once I’m sure my father–once it’s safe.” Hinges creak again as she eases the lid shut. The rusty padlock - temporarily set aside on a dusty barrel - follows shortly after. 

“That’s a Legion-issue lock,” Mralki warns. “Any thief worth their salt will have it open in a heartbeat.”

Eira’s lips curve upwards in a wry smile. “Perhaps, but first they’d have to get past you.”

“Again, I’d ask you if I get a say in this.” Mralki sighs. “But Divines preserve us, I already know the answer.” He turns to go, his voice drifting back to them as he climbs the uneven steps. “Not a word of this to another soul, and you’d best not even think of leaving it here for more than a fortnight. Julianos knows how I’m going to keep the girls out of the basement until then.”

They tromp up the stairs one after the other, Serana leading the way. Only a few glances back to the basement, the chest lost in dust and darkness now that they’ve carried the candles up with them. 

Mralki waits at the top step, arms folded. “Where is it you’re bound after this?”

Serana’s foot hesitates just as she reaches the top step. “North,” she answers, before amending, with a touch more reluctance, “home.”

Mralki’s brow furrows as if trying to imagine, for a moment, what that word means to a vampire. “Well.” He’s talking over her shoulder now, to his son’s thudding, familiar steps as he makes his way up the stairs behind her. “Erik, try and make sure you’re back here before Sundas. The last of Lemkil’s potato crop needs digging up, and the children and I can’t manage it all by ourselves.”

***

It rains the night they return to Rorikstead. Before the last dark clouds have rolled away east, Serana slips out the inn door. She comes to a stop on the inn’s bottom step, away from the dripping eave. A few belated drops of rain pattern against the hood of her cloak.

The sky clears into a delicate web of stars before the inn’s door ever opens again. She glances back just in time to see Mralki step outside.

“Ah, there you are.”

Behind him, as the inn’s door swings closed, she can just make out Eira and Erik at one of the tables. Their heads are both bent over a map of Skyrim, their voices a susurrus half lost to the wind and the crackle of the hearth. 

It’s like there's no space for air between you two, Serana had told Eira during the sea crossing to Castle Volkihar. Erik remained on the shore pacing, grumbling, the only one of them who couldn't water walk.

We’re not used to working alone or in threes. That gentle smile, again, so patient and courtly it made Serana’s jaw clench.

Had there ever been a time when Serana hadn’t had to guard her own back? She doesn’t remember. If those two are what it’s like, having someone you trust at your side, she’d rather lock herself right back in Dimhollow Crypt.

A hen pecks the dirt near her boots, on a late-night hunt for worms turned up by the rain. Its beak strikes alarmingly close to one of her toes. Serana quirks a brow down at it, her expression a good match for the storm clouds receding on the horizon.

The chicken carries on regardless.

Mralki shoos it away with a firm hand and a few muttered words, back toward the henhouse. It complies with a faint bwok that sounds for all the world like a curse. “You should be back inside, nearer the fire.”

For a moment, Serana thinks he’s talking to the chicken. “Afraid I’ll catch my death?”

“Your kind doesn’t feel the cold?”

“Volkihar don’t.” And even if they did, she’s still relishing being under a night sky again. Even if the stars themselves are different from what she remembers. 

Mralki takes another step down, closer to her. His breath frosts light in the air. “Well. All the same, it’s a poor host who lets an honored guest stay out in the cold and damp.”

Serana’s laugh is soft as a chime, and all the more bitter for it. “It’s a foolish host who lets the wolf in.”

“True enough, but you’re no wolf.” 

She snaps her head around to stare at him, narrow-eyed. Her lips curl upwards in something half a smile, half a snarl. Just enough to bare a hint of fang. Mralki doesn’t visibly flinch–but the wooden step creaks as he shifts his weight away from her.

“Alright,” he murmurs, “you’ve made your point. And my point is that my son trusts you.”

She scoffs, turning her attention back to the constellations overhead. “Your son trusts everyone.”

Mralki demurs with a shake of his head. “Erik sees the best in everyone, but that doesn’t mean he trusts them. And Eira isn’t in the habit of bringing trouble to my door. Certain scrolls notwithstanding, mind.”

“There’s been more than one?”

Mralki nods. “Last spring. Something about an ancient city under all our feet.” He wards off her next question with a preemptive wave. “There’s only so much I care to know. They came back safe; that’s all that matters.”

Serana regards him out of the corner of her eye. “Would that things were always so simple,” she murmurs, tone half rueful.

“I’m not sure simple is the word I’d use.” He cups his hands to his mouth; blows on them to ward off the chill. “Come inside. You might not feel the cold, but you’ll feel the next storm when it comes in.”

She can smell it on the wind already. Still, she dawdles, her boot tracing a line through the muddy dirt. Mralki descends the last step to stand beside her. “You brought them back safe. You might not believe it, but you’ve earned the guest right under this roof.”

“My father told Eira the same. She was right not to believe him.”

“Not every father’s a monster, Serana, literal or otherwise.” Her eyes dart toward him again, narrow with alarm. “Eira told Erik, of course,” he explains, one hand raised. “And my son never neglects an opportunity to turn my hair gray.”

He turns to go back inside, pausing on the first step. “I won’t press the matter, and you may not believe it, but the offer stands. You’ve nothing to fear under this roof.”

She can hear his footsteps receding up the steps and across the narrow porch, though they pause at the door. Serana turns sideways, looking at the cobblestone road out of town rather than him. “You…mentioned something about potatoes, the last time we were here.”

The small snort of surprise is out before Mralki can stop it. “You were listening when I said that?” She shrugs. He watches her for a moment, considering–and then gestures across the road to a field lost in shadows. “The man across the road, he’s passed - trust me when I say it was for the best - but his last plantings won’t harvest themselves.”

Serana considers him for a moment, then the field. Her lips curve into a smile, though still pressed tight, to hide her teeth. “My mother used to keep a garden. If you need an extra set of hands, I…think I’d like to help.”

He matches her smile with one of his own, motioning her back inside.

[southeastasianarchaeology]

Sri Ksetra and its Contemporaries: Southeast Asia’s Hidden Historical Gems

via Business Mirror, 23 December 2023: Travel piece visiting four ancient city-states and capitals in Southeast Asia, predating renowned empires like Angkor, Ayutthaya, and Bagan. These sites include the Pyu City of Sri Ksetra in Myanmar, My Son Sanctuary in Vietnam, Sambor Prei Kuk in Cambodia, and Si Thep Ancient Town in Thailand. It’s great to feature these lesser known sites, but I don’t…

[obessivedork]

*gives underdeveloped unimportant side character a medical background for fanfic plot purposes* Hey I should go check the wiki on this character just to be sure they didn't prominently have some other specialty I've just forgot about

The wiki: This character has a medical background

VINDICATIOOOOONNNNNNNNNN

[suguae]

Haunted

part one - part two

જ synopsis. After months of longing and uncertainty, you reunite with your ex-boyfriend Toji and his son Megumi at a nearby diner, where the warmth of their presence fills you with hope for a fresh start and a renewed sense of family.

જ pairings. T. Fushiguro x Fem! Reader

જ a/n. You thought I'd give you guys the silent treatment for month again, probably. But I'm back and I'm going to try my best to upload normal again, keyword TRY.

Six months had passed since the last echo of Toji's voice had graced your ears, each day stretching into an eternity of longing and uncertainty. The memory of his deep, resonant tone lingered like a gentle caress against your skin, stirring a tempest of emotions within you. As you navigated the labyrinth of your thoughts, one question loomed larger than all the rest: was Toji doing okay?

Was he still grieving over his dead wife, or had he begun to heal? And if so, was he ready to love you anew, to embark on a journey of rediscovery and redemption together?

The piercing ring of the phone shattered the fragile sanctuary of your thoughts, jolting you back to the stark reality of the present moment. Your heart quickened its pace as you glanced towards the source of the sound, the glow of the screen casting an eerie illumination in the dimness of your tiny apartment.

Toji's name flashed boldly on the display, a beacon of light cutting through the darkness of the night. A surge of emotions welled up within you—surprise, anticipation, and a tinge of apprehension—all swirling together in a tumultuous whirlwind.

It felt like a sign, as if he had heard the silent echoes of your thoughts reverberating through the ether. Could it be mere coincidence, or something more? The very idea sent shivers down your spine, igniting a flicker of hope within the depths of your soul.

With trembling fingers, you reached out to answer the call, the weight of uncertainty heavy upon you. Was this the moment you had been waiting for, the chance to bridge the chasm that had separated you two for so long? 

You brought the phone to your ear, the anticipation hung thick in the air, each heartbeat echoing the rhythm of your longing. You couldn't help but wonder if perhaps, just perhaps, fate had finally decided to intervene.

Thoughts of Megumi danced on the periphery of your consciousness. Were you guys finally ready to confront the demons of your past and embrace the promise of a brighter future?

The word slipped from your lips like a fragile prayer, carrying with it the weight of all the unspoken hopes and fears that had lingered between you two for so long. "Hello?" you repeated, the sound hanging heavy in the air, waiting for Toji's response to break the silence.

For a moment, there was nothing but the steady thrum of your heartbeat echoing in your ears. And then, finally, a soft exhale on the other end of the line, the faint rustle of movement as Toji gathered his thoughts.

"Hey," his voice came, soft and tentative, yet infused with a warmth that washed over you like a gentle wave. The sound of it sent a shiver down your spine.

you held your breath, waiting for him to continue, the anticipation mounting with each passing second. And then, with a quiet resolve, you spoke again.

"It's been a while," you said, the understatement hanging heavy between the two, a testament to the distance that had grown between you both in the wake of your shared pain. "How have you been?"

The question lingered in the air, pregnant with meaning, a silent plea for honesty and vulnerability in the face of the uncertain future. And as you waited for Toji's response, you couldn't help but wonder if perhaps, just perhaps, this conversation was the first step towards healing the wounds that had long divided you both.

Toji's words hung in the air like a delicate melody, each syllable carrying with it the weight of a thousand unspoken truths. "I miss everything about you," he confessed, his voice soft yet filled with a longing that echoed in the depths of your soul. The vulnerability in his words was palpable, a raw honesty that stirred something deep within you.

As his plea washed over you, you felt a flood of emotions surge to the surface—love, longing, and a flicker of hope amidst the shadows of your past. The ache of separation had carved a chasm between you, but in that moment, his words bridged the gap with an unspoken promise of reconciliation and renewal.

"I need to see you," he implored, the urgency in his tone resonating with the echoes of your own heart's desires. The longing in his voice tugged at the strings of your soul, igniting a spark of courage within you.

With a steady resolve, you met his plea with a whisper of your own, "I need to see you too." The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of all that had been left unsaid, yet brimming with the potential of what could be.

Toji's insistence reverberated through the phone, his words a fervent plea for connection and reunion. "We can meet up, somewhere… anywhere, baby, just tell me," he urged, the desperation in his voice pulling at the strings of your heart. The prospect of seeing him again, of bridging the chasm that had separated you for so long, filled you with a heady mix of anticipation and apprehension.

And then, as if a beacon had been lit in the darkness, he spoke his name—Megumi. Your heart skipped a beat at the mention of him, a rush of emotions flooding your senses. He wasn't your child, not biologically at least, but the bond you shared transcended bloodlines. From the moment you had met him, he had nestled his way into the deepest recesses of your heart, filling a void you never knew existed.

The thought of seeing Megumi again, of wrapping him in your arms and showering him with the love he deserved, sent a surge of warmth coursing through your veins. He was a constant presence in your thoughts, a beacon of light in the darkness that had enveloped your life.

"Yes," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper, "Yes, let's meet." The words hung in the air, heavy with anticipation and the promise of a reunion long overdue. And as you made plans to come together once more, you couldn't help but feel a sense of peace settle over you—a quiet reassurance that, no matter what the future held, you would face it together, as a family.

During the aftermath of the breakup, you found yourself spiraling into a dark abyss of self-destructive behavior. Drinking became a crutch, a futile attempt to numb the ache that gnawed at your soul. Overworking became a distraction, a way to bury yourself in tasks and responsibilities to avoid facing the gaping void left by Toji's absence. And as the days stretched into weeks and months, the toll of neglecting your own well-being became painfully apparent.

It was all too easy to place blame on Toji, to cast him as the villain in the narrative of your shared pain. But deep down, you knew the truth—it wasn't his fault, not entirely. You had chosen to entangle yourself with a widower, knowing full well the complexities and challenges that came with loving someone who was still grieving.

Yet despite the turmoil raging within you, a glimmer of clarity began to emerge amidst the chaos. The realization that no amount of self-destructive behavior could mend the shattered pieces of your heart, nor could it bridge the chasm that had grown between you and Toji.

Slowly but surely, the bad habits began to wane, replaced by a newfound determination to confront the unresolved issues head-on. You stopped reaching for the bottle as a temporary salve for your pain, recognizing that true healing could only come from within. You eased up on the relentless pursuit of productivity, learning to prioritize self-care and introspection over the relentless pursuit of perfection.

It wasn't an easy journey, fraught with setbacks and moments of doubt. But with each passing day, you grew stronger, more resilient in the face of adversity. And as you looked back on the tumultuous path that had led you to this moment, you realized that the key to finding peace lay not in blaming others, but in taking ownership of your own happiness and well-being.

As the agreed-upon time approached, a sense of anticipation and nervous energy coursed through your veins. The prospect of seeing Toji again after months apart filled you with a heady mix of emotions—hope, uncertainty, and a tinge of excitement. The void that had loomed large in your heart in his absence now seemed poised to be filled, if only for a fleeting moment.

You arrived at the nearby diner with a fluttering heart and a whirlwind of thoughts swirling in your mind. The familiar sights and sounds of the cozy establishment offered a sense of comfort amidst the uncertainty that lay ahead. The soft glow of the lights, the gentle hum of conversation, and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloped you like a warm embrace.

As you stepped inside, you scanned the room anxiously, searching for Toji's familiar figure amidst the sea of faces. And then, there he was, sitting at a corner table, his gaze locked on yours as if he had been waiting for you all along.

Sitting next to Toji was the little toddler, his bright eyes sparkling with excitement at your appearance. You couldn't help but smile as you caught his gaze, feeling a warmth spread through you at the sight of him. Megumi reached out eagerly towards you, his tiny hand outstretched in silent invitation.

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[fics-lovebot]

satoru gojo fic rec

main masterlist

· · ♡ · · tysm to the amazing creative minds of the writers for giving me sevaral moments of joy reading your creations

i´ll be constantly updating this list so make sure to check it out often for new recs ;)))

pls remember to reblog if you like any of my recs❤️

disclaimer: if you came back looking for that one fire fic and you can´t find it, it´s bc it doesn't exist anymore :( so i deleted it

LAST UPDATED: 08/08/2024

gojo

gojo eating you out - ( @happybird16 )

gojo x dacryphilia - ( @happybird16 )

gojo loves fat pussy - ( @tohokuu )

sending gojo an accidental nude so he sends you a whole video - ( @satoruhour )

gojo tried to give himself a haircut and now wants to go bald - ( @enkvyu ) this is fuNNY ksksks, I love the banter

trying to break up with yandere!gojo - ( @peachsayshi ) yep, we´re talkin about lovesick toxic obsessed type of gojo, break up????? you know better than to tell him that sooo since you´re acting dUMB he has to fucc so sense into you bc, clearly, you forgot who tf ur talking to - LDKJSDFJDJFHLSHFLSHDF but he´s not rough bc he luvss you a lot

insecure bully!gojo - ( @saetoru ) angst, lil fluff, he´s a bully and he´s in love, but its not enough. part 2

the horniest - ( @arminsumi ) smut, ITS SO GOOOOOOOOOOOOODDDDDD, he´s horny af, pussy drunk, obsessed, borderline crazy for that wap

phone calls - ( @kingkonoha ) slice of life, hubby!gojo, dilf!gojo, his wife and his daughter are his only priority, this is so sdkfjskdjfh :´( i love it

best of the best - ( @saetoru ) smut, fwb! satoru, big sHIT talker omg, he lit asks you to be his gf wHILE he´s making you cum,,,,,best bf ever tho

love struck - ( @xxsabitoxx ) fluffy, ex-fuckboy!satoru, he´s experiencing love for the first time :((((( IT´S SO CUTEEEEEEEEEE

love dumb - ( @arminsumi ) fluff, blurb, you make him lose his composure, can´t even focus bc you´re over there existing, someone should make a longer version of this! so good

too much - ( @risuola ) ANGSTTTYYYY, fluff too, reader and gojo are in a situationship kinda thing where they live together and love each other but nothing has been said yet, they get into an argument bc gojo has a big mouth and says a lot of hurtful things, they´re both just so exhausted

i know you still think about the times we had - ( @saetoru ) angst, fluff, rich bf!gojo, his father makes you break up with him, it´s so angsty omg, they get into this HUGE argument bc gojo´s dad is a controlling mf

sanctuary - ( @arminsumi ) fluff, lowkey angst, weak!reader, bully!gojo, nah he´s just in love but doesn´t know how to say it

the road to falling in love - ( @itadorey ) fluff, strangers to lovers, it´s a collection o moments where keeps falling harder for you, I LOVE ITTTTT, sdkfjhskdjf it´s kinda slow burn but not boring at all

yuji finds out gojo has a family - ( @kingkonoha ) fluff, lowkey angst, hubby!gojo, dad!gojo, so,,, this made me cry, i love yuji sm he deserves the world :( this is part two and it also made me crY MY MF EYES OUT :))))))))

i´ll meet you forever in this memory - ( @gorejo ) fluff, college au, married life au, it´s so good, he lit has this big ass plan to make you fall for him, and i mean big, like planned way ahead lmao, 10 years later he´s still asking you to go out with him,,,,even if you´re already married sdlfkjkdfhlsdjh so so cute

can´t stop drinking - ( @kingkonoha ) ANGST, death, blood, dad!gojo, husband!gojo, mentions of wanting to die, a curse kills you and your son allegedly but in reality the elders had lied to him all these years, part 2 made me fucking cry, PLEASEEE I NEED PART 3

hype man - ( @satoruoo ) crack, fluff, supportive bf!gojo, he´s such an amazing bf :( “damn, my girl ran you over with a bus, reversed, then got out and shot you twice in the foot? what did you do?? sounds like a you issue.” LMAOOOOO this is so cute and funny at the same time, i love it, such a gojo thing to say

flicker of flame - ( @tteokdoroki ) fluff, nervous soon to be dad!gojo, pregnant!reader, he´s going to be the best dad ever

mirror´s pov - ( @teddybeartoji ) smut, "satoru likes jerking off in front of a mirror" YUP, a whole POV of him beating his meat to the thought of you BEAUTIFULLY written, very detailed

missionary - ( @babiexiao ) smut, fluff, THIS IS SO :(((( so beautiful