#and exorcism had priority

[crplpunkklavier]

just finished dig enough graves :')

[redo-of-chii]

ʚ♡ɞ 𝕯𝖎𝖌𝖎𝖙𝖆𝖑 𝕰𝖝𝖔𝖗𝖈𝖎𝖘𝖒 𝖙𝖔 𝕰𝖒𝖇𝖔𝖉𝖞 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝕭𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝕾𝖊𝖑𝖋 ʚ♡ɞ

I decided to make a series of posts dedicated to mental dieting, even if you're not really into manifestation/law of assumption and you're just into your journey to become your best self.

We spend so much of our time on our phones, tablets or computers that it has become our way of life. Most of the daily content we consume and most of the people we interact with every day come from the internet. We basically consume content like we consume food every day.

We talk about digital detoxing and digital decluttering constantly, but sometimes we have to become extreme to live our best life. We have to be mindful about the content we consume since like I mentioned earlier, we consume it like food and if we can be mindful about the food we consume to nourish our body then we can do the same to nourish our minds and hearts. So basically a digital exorcism is what we need to hold ourselves accountable, including myself.

In fact, I am guilty of this and as soon as I'm done with my own post I'll start doing my own digital exorcism as well to be mindful of my own mental diet since I've been neglecting it for the longest time.

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Here is a list of things to do to start your own digital exorcism with things I've come up with and some ideas I've compiled over the months from reading around:

୨୧ Curate your social media experience.

I know that many people cannot quit social media entirely because nowadays some jobs depend on social media presence, plus social media can be a very nice and positive experience!

The internet should be a safespace for you so curating and being mindful of your content should be a high priority.

Delete people/users and social media that either you don't talk anymore or don't bring positive things into your feed or life.

Engage in content that makes you happy or brings positivity into your life, especially topics that you want to learn or improve so your feed gets filled with those things.

Delete any accounts you have that you don't use or represent a part of your life that reminds you of pain (we all had an emo private account to vent somewhere that either needs to be wiped for a new era or just deleted).

Scroll past things that trigger you without guilt since your mental health has to be the most important thing.

Just put your phone down, think about what you need in your life right now to become your best self or make things better for you mentally and practice mindfulness by curating your experience.

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୨୧ Declutter & Simplify

This sounds very easy but it also can be very exhausting so I advise you to do it on a day off but include some things like skincare or a nice podcast to do it. You have to prepare yourself for this mentally since going down memory lane while doing this can be emotionally draining.

We already mentioned deleting accounts but deleting phone numbers that we no longer engage with is a form of self care, same goes for deleting messages or chat logs.

Leaving Discord servers that are inactive or you no longer engage with. Why keep something like that if you're no longer using them? Out of nostalgia? Honey, don't do this to yourself.

Delete apps or music (especially sad and depressing music!) that no longer serve you. They are taking up a lot of useful space after all.

And in relation to making space, declutter your photo gallery. This can be a rough one since we tend to hoard pictures and hoarding comes from a place of fear. Sit down, be ready to confront yourself, think carefully about how you want to categorize your photos and Konmari everything. Focus mostly on screenshots, pictures that you feel you don't look good in, repeat pictures and pictures that bring you bad memories.

Clean your emails to make space. Unsubscribe to newsletters that you don't need and remove any alerts. Just clean it.

From there, things should look cleaner and simple. I know that some of us are addicted to the chaos but trust me that even if you may feel some regret at first, you'll thank yourself later. Sometimes, your phone is a reflection of the state of your mind after all.

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୨୧ Romanticize your Life!

This is the fun part of the digital exorcism, which is making things easier and prettier!

Redecorate your home page. Put everything in folders and from there you can go crazy! Pretty wallpapers, themes, colors... Anything that your heart desires. You can also apply this to other things, revamp your social media and Pinterest boards for a cleaner and better look.

Go on an account scout mission and follow accounts that align with your thoughts and values of your best self.

Install new apps that bring you joy but also feel purposeful to you. And don't feel guilty about installing things like cute games that can make you pause and relax, just don't abuse screen use!

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୨୧ Other Important Things

Don't forget to update apps and back up what's important. I know that cloud backups are important but don't forget to backup things that may be important in an external hard drive.

Set up a ¨Sleep Mode¨ for your phone so you don't feel tempted by notifications at night and have proper sleep. You can also turn off notifications on some platforms to minimize your anxiety.

Set up ¨Digital Detox Hours¨ every day for you. Reconnect with your hobbies, play with your pet, take a nap, journal, do some prep... Just stay away from your phone. And if you don't have any privacy, it's okay. You can take notes and journal in your phone as well, just stay away from social media. Put on music and relax. This should be time for yourself and your feelings after all.

Don't feel bad about doing regular digital decluttering once you're done with the digital exorcism. This is mostly to start again in a clean slate, if the apps you installed for your clean slate are not to your liking, then you can make a small digital declutter and get rid of them later. It's not a bad thing to try new things because it's part of your self-discovery journey.

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I hope this post was useful and don’t hesitate if you want to share any other advice you may have to improve your digital exorcism!

I might make another post recommending apps I use for manifestation soon in another post.

꒰ Always & Forever — Chii ꒱

[rosesradio]

hii can you do a leo x nyx!reader? if u dont feel like adding the nyx part that’s completely fine :) ty and take ur time!

hi !! here’s a bullet point fic for you 🫵💌

word count: 1,045

You thought there was no such thing as an abnormal demigod. All demigods were vastly different from mortals, so why would they hold each other to some unattainable standard of normality?

You were wrong. Ever since your first day at Camp, you were ostracized by the others. They avoided you, pretending you didn’t exist on a good day.

Being ignored was…manageable. Being whispered about, with lingering gazes, was less so.

You knew why they treat you this way. You are a child of Nyx. You were born of the goddess’s desire to embrace the stars, and so, starlight danced in your eyes. The mortals were less than intrigued by your appearance, always assuming you to be smug or mischievous.

You didn’t have a mortal parent. A tether to humanity. Based on what your mother told you before you had ran away to the Doors of Death, you had a mortal lifespan. Still, you are much more akin to a faerie child than a human or demigod.

The Hecate campers are a bit warmer towards you, all things considered. They share their magic with you, and you are able to perform small spells here and there.

Nico is also a good friend. It is a little odd to see him treated so warmly by others despite the similarities between the two of you. He never asks others to show more kindness to you, as you never break down and ask for his help.

You reflect on this, at first, when Leo sits across from you at breakfast one morning. He’s much more of an extrovert in your eyes, always outspoken and joking. His curls are messy, his eyes sparking with interest. In short: he’s cute, but his presence screams trouble.

You ask if someone sent him over, for kindness or cruelty or both.

Leo shakes his head. “I just wanted to see what your deal was, y/n.” He says, cocking his head to the side as he meets your eyes. Where his head is momentarily still, his hands are moving, nimble fingers fiddling with a piece of Celestial Bronze.

“This is my deal,” you shrug, nodding noncommittally towards your breakfast plate and open spell book. The current page displayed ‘Demons: How to Befriend Them After an Exorcism’.

“I don’t see why people avoid you, then,” Leo says. He makes a final touch on his momentary project and hands it to you. It’s a small, spiked sphere that appears to be glowing. It looks like a star—and you would know.

“You have, like, a million of those in your eyes.” Leo points out before his voice falters, and he looks down at the table with a flushed face. “I mean—sorry, that sounded weird, but—“

“It’s okay,” you shake your head, starting to smile. “I know it’s just a fact…most people don’t like to look at me because of it…”

Leo’s eyes lock with yours at that, an incredulous look on his face before his features soften. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile the entire time you’ve been here.”

You shrug. “I guess I’m just not used to people being that nice to me.” You hate the words as soon as you say them; they’re true, though there’s no need to guilt Leo about it.

Leo glances back down at the little sphere before meeting your eyes again. “Well, I’m here to change that. I think that’ll be some good decor for your cabin.”

You frown. “They haven’t, uh…they haven’t quite finished my cabin, yet.”

“What?” Leo asks in disbelief.

You nod. “I don’t mind. It’s in the queue, but seeing as I’m the only child of Nyx for now, it’s a low-priority thing. Really, I’m fine staying in the Hermes cabin. I think this little light will look good on my bedside table, anyway…that is, if the others don’t mind…”

Leo let out a hum, holding his face in his hand, his elbow on the table. He appeared to be…pouting. It gave you an abnormal sense of warmth and amusement to see it.

“The Hermes cabin is always overcrowded, even with the new cabins,” Leo said. “If you…if you promise to be chill about it, you could stay in the Bunker. It’s full of stuff, but it should be no problem getting your cot in there. Then, you won’t have to follow the Hermes cabin’s rules.”

You ponder the notion. “I’m sure you have rules, though.”

Leo shakes his head. “Um, I don’t think so. It’s an absolute fun zone! The only things I could think of would be…don’t touch the dangerous equipment, no dark magic past ten, and, uh…you have to hang out at least once a week. If you start rotting in the corner, I’ll have to kick you out like they did with the old Oracle in the attic.”

It was such an odd proposition. It wasn’t as if this boy you barely knew was inviting you to live with him—it was just him giving you a (presumably) quiet place to sleep. He was being nice…and he wasn’t being sent by anyone. Presumably.

“If this is some sort of prank,” you start uncertainly. “I will perform dark magic on you.”

“No pranks,” Leo promises. “At least, not yet. I’m not liable if I do a little hand-in-a-bowl-of-warm-water, but you don’t have to worry about that until you least expect it. Maybe…you could do a trial run. Come by and take a look around, watch a movie. I made a new projector, and—“

“You made a new projector?” You ask incredulously.

Leo nods, curls bouncing, his eyes alive with interest. “I’m still working on the popcorn machine, unfortunately…it keeps combusting, and the popcorn gets absolutely obliterated…”

For some reason, his utter melancholy over combusted popcorn makes you laugh. The sound surprises you so much, you cover your mouth with your hand.

Leo looks at you in disbelief, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “That settles it, then. We’re watching a comedy—I gotta hear you laugh again.”

You shake your head, cheeks flushed, positive the other campers are staring at the pair of you. For some reason, though, you can’t bring yourself to care. You are just beyond relieved to find yourself with a new friend…especially one as cute as Leo.

[umbra-papilio]

The proxies' relationships with the other killers

Despite being recruited last, the only one to meet Jeff in person is Kate. Human, proxy, monster, whatever they may be, Jeff will attack it, but seeing that Kate looked similar to himself, he was extra aggressive to "assert his dominance" or something stupid. Now proxies have incredibly high strength, speed and endurance in comparison to normal humans, but Kate is far less experienced than Jeff and ended up getting heavily injured. The proxies made it a priority to avoid the infamous smiling killer after that.

Brian and Tim both have had accidental run-ins with EJ on more than one occasion. Each instance was just one staring at the other in silence before someone eventually continued with what they were doing. Both of the proxies are deeply unsettled with the cannibal's presence, and have no intention of ever getting too close.

No one has ever met Jane, fortunately enough, given her job as an assassin, but all of them with the exception of Toby hold great respect for her. If they were to die, they wouldn't complain if it were by her hands.

Tim met Liu by chance during one of his few moments of clarity. Tim had no idea who he even was, but Liu recognized him almost instantly despite not having his mask on. They want out for drinks together to reminisce about the past or just sit in silence before parting ways. Neither have seen the other since.

Toby and the Puppeteer are well known among killers for their bad blood. Like the Operator, Puppeteer feeds off of negativity, and Toby has that in spades. There's not much one can do against a powerful poltergeist if they're not keen in exorcism, so all Toby can really do in these instances is endure the mental assault for as long as possible before the ghost gets bored, tired or both and then leaves. Needless to say, Toby's not too fond of him.

One time, Brian had to camp out in an abandoned amusement park during a thunderstorm and ran into LJ. Even in proxy mode, LJ scared the living shit out of him and he ran out of the park like a bat out of hell. He got a cold from walking in the rain for 2 hours, but that's better than getting your corpse stuffed with candy. He's not eager to meet him again.

[cipheramnesia]

Do you have any recs for "christian" horror movies where instead of the devil or something being the scary thing, it's the church, christians or god himself that is the horror?

This is likely one of my weak points in the genre, as I personally make it a point to avoid horror derived from xian mythology. Not that it's 100% possible, but if it's got devil or exorcism in the title or says something about demonic possession or the antichrist in the description, it's low priority for me. One place to you might start is Nunsploitation. Yes, it's a genre, and yes those nuns sure are exploited. But that's a deep well of evil Nuns.

I went on a search for movies that matched up, my best results came searching up "priest horror antagonist" if you wanna poke around some. But I found this Fangoria article which does a quality job with a variety of selections and has a good outline that should be a useful determination whether to watch.

The one movie on the list I was going to recommend was We Summon The Darkness, which I think is a banger of a movie not without flaws but a good time to be had. They also listed Stigmata which is uh. Well it's something. It's probably a lot more interesting if the idea of xian mythology is something that resonates with you. I also saw some suggestions for Saint Maud which is a decent religious horror but I wouldn't call it something where the actual church is the antagonist. For ones where their god is the actual antagonist, nothing springs to mind unfortunately though I feel like I should know one and I forgot it.

[water9826]

Cursed Guardians (A JJK Fic)

AO3 Link

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For something that was supposed to be prohibited or off limits, Suguru had always found entering the catacombs the easiest task in the world. Jujutsu sorcerers were so spread thin that the school could only spare a measly five guards to protect Master Tengen, the sole being responsible for the barriers protecting the human world from the jujutsu world. This left everything else unguarded, including the catacombs, which held some of the most infamous texts in jujutsu. Information that can easily be used against them. 

To make up for the lack of guards, there were several illusionary buildings across the Tokyo and Kyoto campuses. In Tokyo, the number of fake buildings had drastically increased after the incident with Toji Fushiguro. Besides the misleading structures, talismans and other protective seals had been placed on the entrances to important areas. Most sorcerers could not break the seals, but Suguru was not like most sorcerers. 

With a flick of his hand, the bindings covering the wide entrance of the catacombs were cut to ribbons by one of the many curses Suguru had under his control. 

Unlike Satoru, Suguru knew how to remain undetected. The higher ups still had no leads as to who had been regularly breaking the seals to the catacombs for the past two years. It was a feat Suguru was quite proud of. He had used his plethora of curses to shred the seals, before promptly killing it. By doing this, Suguru made the elders think that a random curse had tried entering the catacombs, only for the curse to be exorcized by the powerful seals it had broken. The cursed energy signals were enough for the higher ups to not bat an eye at the recurring incidents. It was fitting. When given the choice, the elders would rather focus all their attention on whatever bothered them than anything that could pose an actual threat to the jujutsu world. The catacombs were not a priority for the elders whatsoever, but Suguru could not be upset by that. Afterall, the neglect of the catacombs were what allowed him to enter it many, many times.

This time was no different. 

“I always forget how musty this place is.” Suguru clamped a hand over his nose as he descended the carved, stone staircase. While it wasn’t a disgusting smell by any means, it still made the teen shudder and feel nauseous. He had a feeling as to what the scent originated from.

Death. 

Suguru was well acquainted with death, considering his line of work. Death did not smell revolting or vile. No. That was the smell of decomposition. Death itself smelled, with lack of a better term, heavy . It was a scent that had a presence to it. Similar to the cleansing, peaceful presence the air has after a storm. It was a scent that made Suguru’s chest tighten and throat close up. There was a barely detectable earthy note to death. It was subtle, but it was enough that Suguru had memorized the distinct smell. It smelt of ancient waters and aging moss. He imagined it smelt of the section of a forest that many find by accident. It’s untouched by man and animal. The clearing is small, only having a small pond and few trees. While the ground is covered by leaves, all the trees are left barren. There is the smallest flow to the pond, causing the leaves on the surface of the murky water to sway back and forth. It was the loneliest part of the woods.

The scent of death permeated every crevice of the catacombs. There was no doubt in Suguru’s mind that these underground tunnels were also used to bury the many corpses of his fellow sorcerers. Jujutsu sorcerers have existed for centuries, so it was highly likely that this labyrinth was also a makeshift gravesite at some point. Suguru did not let that knowledge bother him. He clenched his fists as he continued his journey downwards. 

To light the way, Suguru had summoned several jellyfish-like curses that acted as tiny flashlights. No one was meant to be down here, so it didn’t surprise Suguru that not a single torch along the walls of the caverns had been lit. 

Despite the many tunnels appearing as he got lower and lower, he paid them no mind. As he journeyed further, the stairs became more cracked and weathered. The first time Suguru had ventured here, he had nearly cracked his skull open due to a massive hole in the stairway. Now, Suguru simply summoned a curse with tree-like roots and walked across the pit without issue. Once Suguru spotted the last steps of the winding staircase, he breathed a sigh of relief. His forehead felt sweaty and his body felt quite sore. Considering he had been unconscious for several days, he knew that it was a foolish idea to strain his body in such a way. Suguru could not be bothered to care. 

Finally, his feet met with the floor of the lowest level, the true catacombs. Suguru had to stick his nose into his elbow to breathe in the scent of his shirt. At such a deep level, it was hard to breathe on principle. The smell of dust only served to make things worse. The faint smell of detergent helped Suguru’s chest loosen. After a few moments of adjusting, Suguru raised his head and made his way to the many rotting bookshelves before him. In the years prior, Suguru had taken the time to make a small reading area for himself. In addition, the black-haired boy used his curses to help gather books Suguru found interesting. He had purposely kept his friends out of this hobby of his. While it would be exponentially easier to travel to the catacombs with the help of Satoru’s teleportation abilities, Suguru wanted to keep this place to himself. Shoko and Satoru had never been the studious types, so he knew they would get bored quickly in a pseudo-library like this. 

He made a beeline to his personalized corner in the back of the area. The lowest level was full of dusty books and scrolls, nothing else. It was quite smaller than the upper levels Suguru had explored. Even so, it was still a sizable place. Suguru effortlessly made his way through the many winding paths and bookshelves. Once he spotted his corner, Suguru smiled. 

It only had a large blanket, a futon, several candles, and one pillow. Next to the sitting area was a neatly stacked pile of books. Suguru plopped onto the futon, not bothering to dust it off with how exhausted his body was. He summoned a tiny flame with the help of a curse that resembled a hybrid of a rock and salamander. He lit the largest candle, sighing in contentment once the smell of vanilla and lavender reached his nose. Suguru made sure to place the lit candle in a place that would not pose a threat to the many flammable objects around him. 

Suguru used the elastic band on his wrist to tie his long hair in a messy bun. It was the longest it's ever been, but Suguru enjoyed the look much more than his previous hair style. With his hair out of his face, Suguru sorted through the books until he found the one was looking for. 

THE FORGOTTEN HUMANS: CURSED SOULS

By: Itadori Kaori

A sudden shiver overtook Suguru’s body. Now that he had faces to the creatures he thought were nothing but myth, he couldn’t help but feel uneasy. When he had read the book the first time, he thought it was an intriguing story, perhaps theory. He did not think much of it. He didn’t think much of the author either. Suguru had thought that the author was just an eccentric sorcerer with too much time on her hands. Considering the apparent truth to her words, Suguru knew he needed to do research on Itadori Kaori. He had never heard of her before, and he had found it strange for such a modern textbook to find its way in an abandoned labyrinth. At the time, he thought it had been placed by the higher ups due to its possibly ludicrous texts. The elders had always censored the textbooks Suguru and his other peers used heavily. It made sense that such a controversial book would be dumped here. 

The more he thought about it, the more strange the book’s existence became. Suguru shook his head harshly. He had a purpose for being here. He can’t be sitting for hours trying to solve a mystery he had no knowledge on. Satoru needed him. If Kaori Itadori had anything that could be useful in helping Satoru, Suguru could care less who she was. 

Maybe he could multitask. 

Suguru summoned a ghostly owl that towered over him, awaiting orders. “Find any texts written by Itadori Kaori or anything relating to cursed souls. If there isn’t either, try to find anything that has pictures of these creatures.” The teen transferred the images of the six creatures to his owl helper. He had absorbed the curse during his first year. It was a curse that had been spotted in the remnants of a burnt library, already having killed seven people who ventured into the remains. It was a clever curse despite being a grade three. He knew that if there were any curses who were fit for the job, it was this owl cursed spirit. “Bring me whatever you find.” With that, he sent the curse on its way. 

He sincerely hoped this strange woman had answers. 

“Please have something.” Suguru whispered underneath his breath. He made his jellyfish curses gather close so he could see in the dark room. As he opened the textbook, he immediately went to the table of contents. Once he found the most useful pages, he flipped to them. 

He was greeted by a crude drawing of the six entities he had encountered that fateful night. 

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Suguru began to read. 

Throughout all of human history, there seems to be a common phenomenon shared by all eras and civilizations. A cave painting (pictured on the upper left) depicts the outlines of six unknown creatures. This painting has been dated to be more than 40,000 years old. These creatures share no resemblance to the animals observed in previously discovered cave paintings. What’s more, these six entities share no resemblance to any animal, extinct or not. This could be seen as a creative drawing of our ancestors and nothing more if it wasn’t for the fact that there are repeated instances of these creatures appearing in paintings across the world.

For instance, a painting from a temple belonging to a young pharaoh in ancient Egypt (pictured on the bottom right) was discovered. The name of the pharaoh has been lost to time, but the paintings along the walls of his tomb depict two of the creatures beside Anubis, the Egyptian god of the dead and afterlife. The appearance of the creatures from a cave painting to a painting in a pharaoh's tomb shows that there is significance to these strange beings. Moreover, one of the creatures, a canine with the skull of another creature atop its head, is drawn next to the pharaoh. The pharaoh is seen petting the head of the entity with a smile. The second creature, a dragon with the beak of a bird, is seen behind Anubis, towering over the god. For a revered god like Anubis being overshadowed by an unknown creature, there is a likelihood that these creatures could have been worshiped in a similar regard as to the more well-known Egyptian gods. 

Suguru felt like throwing up. It should be impossible! That damn shrieking bird is NOT in that painting! Cursed souls cannot be that old! He began flipping through the chapter frantically. 

Sculptures of a woman with roses and spikes have been found alongside the sculptures of the Greek goddess Athena-

Norse mythology depicts a creature made of shadows meant to punish those who it deems malevolent-

Carvings of a cat with spikes have been seen in a multitude of Aztec temples- 

“What the fuck?!” Suguru yelled at the book. He had completely forgotten about the timeline that the author had written to show how the group of entities had been depicted over the past several centuries. When he had read it the first time, he had glossed over most of the details. He wants to slap his younger self for being so ignorant. Quickly, he went back to the table of contents and scanned through the many chapters until he found the section centered around the origins and myths of the creatures. 

Suguru was quick to notice the change in the author’s tone. Instead of a neutral, analytical approach, Kaori Itadori wrote with an almost unhinged passion. It was clear that she was writing with her personal feelings instead of using a more educational approach. It became slightly unsettling for Suguru. It truly felt like this woman was speaking to Suguru like he was an old friend, rambling on about her theories as if she was next to him.

These beasts make the oldest of recorded curses seem like newborns in comparison. Their appearance and descriptions over the past several centuries match those of a curse much more than anything natural to this world. However, there is one notable fact that must not be forgotten. Curses have only been able to appear in Japan. There are no other records of curses appearing in other countries or continents. This is due to Master Tengen’s barrier technique. However, the existence of these six beings precedes the existence of Master Tengen. It should be impossible for such a thing to occur. And it is impossible! The six creatures are not curses, but something else entirely!

Curses are born from human emotions. In the stone ages, there were not enough people to create such negativity. Back then, early humans were solely focused on survival. There was not any room to stew in one’s regrets or sadness. Thus, curses did not exist in such times! But these creatures did! It’s marvelous! Delightfully interesting! I’ve taken it upon myself to study the existence of these beings! I’ve named them Cursed Souls!

Based on accounts from the jujutsu sorcerers of the past, these entities exhibited very notable abilities and behaviors. They are not supposed to be on this Earth, yet they are! In straight defiance to the natural order! It’s so exciting!

I believe that they are remnants of a world long forgotten. Souls of people that were not allowed to move on, cursed to roam the lands until they find what will bring them eternal peace. It’s well known that many curses are manifested from the result of a person or sorcerer dying with too many regrets. The connection between death and curses cannot be ignored! Cursed souls are the perfect amalgamation of cursed energy and death. A being of indescribable power being birthed from a death of indescribable agony! It’s inspirational! These beings, based on the many depictions of them throughout ancient times, were revered as gods. The soul has always been an anomaly for us sorcerers to understand. It is not out of the realm of possibilities to say that these souls are from a different time entirely. Perhaps the souls of today originated from the world the cursed souls are from. We are the finalized version of the rough draft the world had to go through to become what it is today. 

The techniques each cursed soul has further proves this theory. Cursed techniques are often hereditary. The most powerful clans are quite protective of their techniques and refuse to have their clan members ‘mix’ with others. In spite of this, the revered power of the Six-Eyes and Limitless technique is held by one of these cursed souls based on reports. It’s a supposedly impossible feat. How can such a creature have such a sacred technique? The answer is simple! The creature's soul originates from the Gojo clan! An innate technique like Limitless cannot appear out of nowhere, it must be passed down through genetics. One way or another, whoever the soul belonged to was a member of the Gojo clan. Like a flower regrowing after a fire. Even if the flower was burnt to a crisp, the roots remained and were able to regrow from the destruction. Cursed souls are the flowers that were destroyed in a fire, only to emerge again, stronger, from, the ashes. Sorcerers today are the seeds that were dispersed before the fire began. Away from the destruction, but still originating from the flower that got burned. 

Though, there is the possibility that there is an even bigger picture I am missing! The intrigue of cursed souls never ends! 

Suguru sincerely wished it did. His head began to pound as Suguru tried to remember what the infuriating bird demon-cursed soul-thing showed him. It was like he wasn’t allowed to remember. Each time he tried to, a white fog would cloud his mind. The author’s ramblings were giving Suguru some much needed insight, but he needed more. 

The cursed soul with that damned beak and tail did something to Satoru’s head. 

As the teen went to rub his temples, he heard the clacking of talons against the rough floor. The owl curse had appeared with several scrolls in its beak. Suguru felt himself smile at the additional information. “Thank you.” Once he took the scrolls from the wispy owl, it ran off to further investigate the catacombs. Suguru was relieved that there was more information on cursed souls than he thought. After placing the old scrolls next to him, Suguru went back to the increasingly distressing book. He flipped a few pages until he found the mythological section. It seemed this part was entirely based on Japanese mythology of the Heian Era. 

The Golden Age of Jujutsu was a time that is remembered by all, fondly or not. In such an era, it would seem obvious that there would be countless reports of these six beings. However, this is not the case. There are only three known reports of cursed souls, all of which occurred during the Heian Era. There have been no sightings or records of these creatures ever since.

Suguru glanced at the three largest scrolls of the bunch. Out of all the books and scrolls he had read in the catacombs, this was by far the oldest piece of literature Suguru had ever found. Carefully placing the more modern textbook on the blanket, Suguru picked up a random scroll of the three. He unraveled it slowly and used two of his jellyfish curses to hold down the edges. It revealed a stained paper with kanji Suguru could barely read. He had once studied ancient Japanese, but was by no means fluent in it.

Brownish-red stains littered the paper, and Suguru was trying his hardest not to think of the implications of having dried blood on a centuries old scroll. 

From what he could read, it seemed to be a report from a healer in the Kamo Clan. 

PATIENT: Kamo Inoko

Inoko’s brother, Kamo Butaro, described that an unregistered special grade attacked his sister during a mission. Both had been sent to exorcize a grade two curse that had been causing trouble for farmers with peach orchards. These are the details Butaro has shared about the mission. Apparently, farmers in the nearby area reported that many of their trees appeared to have been slashed by something with claws. They can no longer enter the orchard without being killed, and a portion of their peaches are being stolen each day. When one farmer tried to collect a basket of peaches, he was found later that night with several holes through his body and a mauled face. The curse was only targeting peach orchards. All other fruit or vegetable farms were left unharmed. One farmer reported that he had an apple and peach orchard, yet the apple orchard had remained intact. 

After hearing the complaints of the farmers, the sorcerer took the case and assigned it to Butaro and Inoko. Upon entering the peach orchard that had been the first to be targeted, both sorcerers felt a presence of a curse much stronger than a grade two. After ten minutes of being inside the orchard, Inoko tried picking up a peach that had fallen onto the ground. The moment her hand made contact, a beam of blood was shot at her hand, slicing it off. It resembled the Piercing Blood manipulation technique of their clan, but it was clearly stronger than both Kamo sorcerer’s own techniques. Butaro stated that the beam of blood was sharp enough to cut not only his sister’s hand, but some of the trees behind them. Butaro stated how he could sense the immense anger the cursed spirit had and decided to apologize. He kept apologizing as he grabbed his sister and retreated. No other attacks followed. At some point, Butaro looked back and saw the cursed spirit’s form. He said that it resembled a large cat, but it had purple fur with a black stripe on its nose. The boy also mentioned that it had several elongated spikes on its back. Each spike had a condensed sphere of blood on top, a clear use of Convergence. 

It has been two days since the attack on Inoko, and she has been put into a coma. After being pierced by the curse’s blood, Inoko soon exhibited signs of poisoning. No remedy has worked and neither has reverse cursed technique. Poisons have always been difficult to heal, so the only treatment option available is to treat Inoko’s symptoms and pray that her body can flush out the poison on its own. 

When first grade sorcerer Hayashi Daichi and special grade sorcerer Gojo Suki arrived on the scene, the cursed spirit had vanished. The only residual that remained was the blood spattered on the peach Inoko had held. 

Suguru had a feeling that the girl hadn’t recovered. Besides the draconic entity, the cat had boggled Suguru’s mind. With how viscously protective the cat was over the infant, he had no doubts that the cat would eliminate any threats to his ward without mercy. The only reason that Suguru could come up with as to why the cat had targeted peach orchards was the color. Even if it was brief, Suguru couldn’t forget the peachy pink of the baby’s hair. Suguru had seen curses obsess over certain things, often the last thing on their mind. It would become where the curse was most frequently spotted at. It could also become the garbled word the curse repeats endlessly. Curses have always been obsessive. A cursed soul was likely to be the same in some regard. 

The other two scrolls were similar reports from healers. While the second described a list of casualties at the hands of the cursed soul with spotted wrappings and the cursed soul with roses and nails, the third was a report of the erratic symptoms of a sorcerer after being hit by an unknown curse. The symptoms were familiar to Suguru. And concerning.

Patient has become incredibly hostile and aggressive. 

Patient exhibits signs of being in intense psychological distress. 

Patient unable to answer basic questions like where they are and what their name is. 

Patient has become increasingly delirious and refuses to eat or drink. 

Patient speaks of being chased and in danger. 

Patient must be restrained at all times. 

Patient shows no signs of improving no matter what treatment.

He felt his breath get stuck in his throat as he scanned the very bottom of the parchment. 

Elders sentenced patient to death after five months of no improvement. 

“Those worthless pieces of shit.” He snarled. Suguru clenched the weathered paper in his hands, uncaring of the damage he was causing to the ancient scroll. Of course the elders back then would be just as cowardly as the elders they had now. The symptoms of aggression and psychological distress matched what Nanami described. Satoru had attacked Nanami and would have attacked Suguru if the blonde hadn’t intervened. He remembered how terrified Satoru had been when he was under that strange trance that fateful night. If Satoru gets worse, the elders would surely try to execute him after labeling Satoru a danger to jujutsu society. 

Suguru felt like throwing up. How the hell was he supposed to heal Satoru if the healers of the past couldn’t do anything?!

The texts were not as useful as Suguru thought. They held no answers! He tugged harshly at his hair in pure frustration. Those were the only reports that existed of the damned things! Suguru bit his lip to keep himself from screaming. He felt his anger surge and did everything possible to get it under control. It doesn’t matter how skilled a sorcerer or healer is, cursed souls were simply on another level of strength apparently. They had no way to defeat them, the only reason the world is still standing is because these creatures were somewhat indifferent to humanity. There were no other reports of attacks, which was a relief, but it was a pain for Suguru. They only got aggressive when Suguru, Satoru, and Nanami seemingly threatened the child. It still made no sense as to why the monstrous entities would go so far just to protect a random baby-

Yuuji is special. Not just special to me. Special to the world. He is the very reason this world exists. Do anything to harm him, and your world will crumble. Though, he won’t be the one to destroy the world. He is the kindest soul in existence. I and the other guardians will be the source of your downfall. You don’t hurt him, and I don’t hurt you. 

Itadori Yuuji must be protected at all costs. He is the core of this world’s continued existence. Never forget that.

The scroll dropped from Suguru’s hands with a loud clatter. 

That was the voice of that horrid bird. He gripped at his head as it throbbed. Suguru now realized why he could not remember the conversation he had with the entity. He wasn’t allowed to remember until it was actually necessary. Like a locked gate only having a key on certain occasions, but the occasion was at random. Suguru had no idea what to cause a memory to come back, it just would. 

Hm . 

Itadori Yuuji . 

Suguru went to grab the textbook by the author of the strange textbook. Having the same last name could be a coincidence, but something inside Suguru was urging him to not disregard the oddity. He flipped back to where he left off in the textbook. The knowledge of the author and the importance of the baby were a mystery Suguru itched to solve. 

But he couldn’t solve it without Satoru. 

He wanted to kick himself over the head at getting distracted so easily. Had he become so selfish that he would put aside his best friends suffering for his own curiosities? He had gotten too accustomed to being in his thoughts for days on end. Facing the result of his self imposed isolation made Suguru feel shame pool in his gut. He had pushed Satoru away and was now suffering for it by being useless in helping his closest friend.

Being strong was something Suguru was familiar with. Helping others was also something Suguru had mastered at a young age. He was always the one to lend a helping hand without thought. Yet when his friend needed him the most, Suguru couldn’t lift a finger. Just wallow in his regrets and self-pity. Satoru had always been there for him, in the limitless user’s own unique way. Whether it was making Suguru laugh until he cried or refusing to sleep for days just to protect an innocent girl, Satoru had a kindness that Suguru lacked. Satoru was genuine in his care for others. 

Of course, Satoru could be the most annoying person on the planet, but that was not who he truly was. His cheery and often arrogant disposition was a facade that Suguru had seen through immediately. Yet, he had done nothing to rectify that. Satoru would allow Yaga, Shoko, or even Suguru himself to hit him. While the annoyed pushes or smacks to the head were definitely warranted, the fact that Satoru would consciously deactivate his Infinity for their hits to make contact stuck with Suguru. If Satoru was as cocky as he makes himself appear, then he would have never allowed them to touch him. But he did. Satoru would be the energetic one with a cheeky grin because no one else could keep a smile on their face. A smile that wasn’t fake like Suguru’s. On the roughest of days, Satoru would still be bright, something that used to annoy Suguru. When they had first gotten to know each other, Suguru had thought that Satoru’s blatant disregard for others was the boy’s true feelings. Satoru would complain about how the weak were so annoying, but would still go out of his way to make sure his missions had as little casualties as possible. He would get genuinely upset if one person got severely injured or died. It was a given that people would die in their line of work, but Satoru ignored that. Suguru had accepted it. He had thought Satoru’s want for there to be no casualties was irritating when they went on missions together. At first, Suguru had thought it was Satoru’s attempt to be better than everyone. It wasn’t. The few times that Suguru had seen Satoru’s front disappear were the times where Suguru realized how good Satoru really was. He wanted to be the strongest sorcerer and stop people from dying to curses, but was so terrified of failing that he pretended that he wasn’t human at all more often than not. Satoru felt like a weapon, not a god. He would say he had to be perfect, but Suguru had seen the tears in his crystal blue eyes whenever Satoru said it. Satoru would melt whenever Suguru touched him, as if it was the last piece of affection he would ever receive. Satoru let Suguru cry into his shoulder whenever he needed and would refuse to leave his room whenever Suguru had a nightmare. Suguru had tried to do the same, but it was never enough. Even though Satoru had never said anything about Suguru’s attempts at comfort, Suguru felt like Satoru deserved so much better. 

Beneath the glasses and the many, many walls that made up Gojo Satoru, there was a boy that was desperate to be human. That was desperate to be loved and seen as a human. So desperate to be held and praised.

 Satoru was the brightest star in Suguru’s galaxy. 

There was not any other way to put it. Suguru held a darkness within him that could only be held off by Satoru’s light. Even though Suguru had to remind Satoru of being polite and kind, he knew deep down that Satoru already was. Satoru was respectful and compassionate to those he thought deserved it. Suguru was courteous to all because that was how he was raised. The mannerisms had been carved so deeply into Suguru’s psyche that the teen was not sure what he truly believed. 

He was only who his parents and teachers sculpted him into. All of his decisions were based on the teaching drilled into him as a child. His personality often didn’t feel like his own. 

The first time that Suguru knew what he truly felt was when he had seen Satoru holding Riko’s corpse while hundreds of people applauded. It was a burning hatred that seared into his soul. Suguru had left behind all of those teachings, becoming an empty husk with no sense of who he was and what to do. Eventually, the words he shared with Tsukumo Yuki ignited something within him. He had been determined to see his plans to the bitter end, but a damned phone call changed everything. 

Suguru was doubting himself like never before. Were his only genuine feelings just hatred and anger for non-sorcerers? Was that all he was without the teachings of his elders to guide him? 

Could he even help Satoru?

“I don’t know anything.” Suguru put the scrolls and books away to wrap his arms around his knees. For the first time since Riko’s death, Suguru felt well and truly lost. There were too many things happening at once, and Suguru felt paralyzed by it all. Cursed souls exist. He needed to investigate Itadori Kaori. Sukuna was reincarnated without anyone’s knowledge. Satoru was imprisoned while his own mind tortured him. Itadori Yuuji was apparently another vital piece of the puzzle, and Suguru had no idea who he was. The world could crumble at any moment if something happens to that boy. 

A loud clatter broke Suguru out of his spiraling thoughts. 

Before him was a large scroll wrapped with black twine. Suguru looked up and saw the owl curse staring back at him. There was a sense of finality to the scroll, meaning that the owl’s search had come to an end. In a hoarse whisper, Suguru smiled. “Thank you.” He dismissed the owl with a flick of his wrist. 

It was the largest and longest scroll Suguru had ever seen. The thick spindles that held each end of the parchment were made of brass. With great care, Suguru unwrapped the twine and unrolled the ancient paper. The weight of the spindles prevented the parchment from curling in on itself. Once the scroll was fully rolled out, which had taken a while, Suguru stared at the contents it contained. 

A grand painting that had become faded from age seemed to stand before the black-haired teen. It was in the style expected from ancient Japanese art. Six familiar figures and two additional ones had been depicted in the painting. It seemed to tell a story. At the beginning of the parchment was a man with pink hair that had been set aflame, holding a toddler that looked to be dead. The words above the painting roughly translated to ‘ The scorned had been punished.’ Suguru felt nauseous as he stared into the despair so clearly drawn into the man’s face. He could almost feel the agony the man was going through the longer he stared. Shaking his head, Suguru read to the next section of the scroll. 

The next artwork was the same man kneeling down before a monster with four arms. In the man’s bloody arms was a round orb, which would have been pink if the parchment wasn’t so aged. The large monster had tattoos all over its body, tattoos that Suguru recognized as belonging to Sukuna, the King of Death. Sukuna had become something of legend for sorcerers, believed to be gone for good. Suguru wanted to yell at the skies for the world being so unforgiving. He ignored his frustration to look at the kanji next to the painting. ‘ A deal is made with the King of Death. A soul for a soul. The king wants the body, the soul, of the scorned for the rest of time in return for saving his son’s soul. The scorned makes the deal with the disgraced .’

There was other kanji, but it was too faded for Suguru to read. From the painting alone, Suguru knew that the man had made a binding vow with Sukuna. Deals that involved souls were always binding, considering how vital the material was to a sorcerer’s very being. The next part depicted the six cursed souls that were forever ingrained into Suguru’s mind. In the center of each entity was an orb identical to the one the man had been holding, seemingly being his son’s soul. The cursed souls themselves were grouped together in an almost diamond shape. At the top, the smiling visage of the birdlike entity stared back at him. On the left side were the feline and canine-like cursed souls. On the right were the faceless shadow entity and metallic-rose entity. At the bottom, the long, spotted wrappings of the mummy-like entity acted as a frame for all. The kanji next to the cursed souls was much harder to read, as if the artist was shaking while they wrote. From what he could decipher, it read as follows:

‘The king’s assistants took the son’s soul, splitting it amongst the six of them. Each would hide a piece of the boy’s soul wherever they saw fit. The ashes and bones of the boy were scattered throughout the world as well, acting as the material the demons would use to rebuild the boy when the time was right. The only being who knew the locations of all pieces was the king’s eldest assistant, the Seer of Infinity. A demon more powerful than the king .’

“More powerful than Sukuna?” Suguru whispered to himself. The legacy that Sukuna left behind was an unforgettable one. All tales tell of the immense power Sukuna held. The armies he decimated in one blow. The countless sorcerers who fell at his claws. However, Suguru couldn’t help but look back to the man Sukuna made a deal with. There were no other accounts of this man, and Suguru has no recollection of Yaga mentioning him during lessons. Though, that wasn’t Yaga’s fault. The elders had censored the records of the Heian Era heavily.  Suguru had felt like he was trying to complete a puzzle with all the pieces missing. It made sense that people as cowardly as the higher-ups would restrict information, but the information itself seemed to be quite important. If there was an entity more powerful than Sukuna, then shouldn’t all sorcerers know about it? If there was a man who had made a binding vow with SUkuna, why hasn’t there been any mentions of him? 

What were the elders trying to hide?

The rest of the scroll looked to be purposely scratched out. Suguru felt his jaw clench so hard his teeth nearly cracked. He couldn’t read any of the Kanji, and the paintings  had been blotted out with ink. 

“Tsk. Those bastards.” Suguru summoned a curse that took the appearance of a thin carpet with tentacles. At the center of the carpet was a glowing, white light. He made the curse slip underneath the scroll, specifically where the paintings had been blotted out. With a snap of his fingers, the curse lit up. The faint outline of the paintings appeared. The teen smiled in relief. “Thank you, Satoru.”

It was the white-haired teen who had taught Suguru this trick. One time, Shoko had accidentally spilled an experimental mixture on a manga Satoru had been reading. The trio had been in Shoko’s personal lab where she studied medicines and other chemicals. The mixture had stained the manga pages quite badly, but Satoru didn’t show a hint of anger. Suguru thought it was because Satoru was rich enough to buy an entire library’s worth of manga, which was accurate. However, Satoru giggled and raised one of the stained pages in the air, making sure the blinding  lights of Shoko’s lab were aimed at the paper. Suguru and Shoko had asked what the other was doing, and Satoru motioned them to come closer. Positioning himself on the ground, Suguru saw that the page of Gojo’s manga had become legible from the fluorescent light. As long as the other boy kept the pages to the brightest angle of light, he could read them.

And so could Suguru. As he commanded the curse to move underneath the scroll, he slowly could see the full paintings. It was a slow process, having to make the curse direct its small light to reveal equally small pieces of the remaining paintings. There were three remaining paintings of the scroll. The first one was a painting of the draconic cursed soul surrounded by what looked like a galaxy of eyes. Around the painting was a cycle of sorts. The start of the cycle was a picture depicting a person making eye contact with the birdlike cursed soul. Next, the person would be marked with an eye on their forehead and collapse and hold their head in agony. Following, they would be shown graphic images to torment their minds. The two next parts of the cycle depicted the person’s hallucinations getting worse and worse. The hallucinations themselves contained a bird the most. On the second to last part of the cycle, the bird seen in the hallucinations appeared on the person’s head, pecking the eye on their forehead. The last part was the eye disappearing along with the images, the person now smiling while holding the bird close. The second painting showed a battle between an army and the man Sukuna had made a vow with. The battle was painted in six stages. First, the army arrived at the throne, which was made of bones, of the man and Sukuna. Second, the army battled the man while Sukuna watched in the shadows, smiling. Third, ten square symbols appear on the man’s hand and he is surrounded by four beams of fire, each appearing to have a different form of matter. Fourth, the charred remains of the army now burn at the man’s feet. Fifth, Sukuna appears next to the man with a hand on his shoulder. Finally, the man is sitting on the throne with the added bones of the army while Sukuna stands behind the man with his four arms ensnaring him. The third and final painting was the man and Sukuna kneeling in front of each other, with one small soul above their heads and another larger soul connecting the two. The six guardians are wrapped around them. Each one has their eyes closed in a deep slumber. 

The scroll ended with a drawing of a little boy. It was so faded that Suguru had to practically shove his head against the scroll to see the tiny sketch. The boy was in the grass with his arms wrapped around his knees, looking onto the horizon. The child is leaning against a great peach tree with the outlines of six peaches, however the outlines were not colored in, making it look like the peaches were missing or even stolen. The boy was crying, yet he had a smile, just the slightest upturn of his lips. 

There was a clear story being told, but Suguru knew it would take him hours to decipher it. From what he could gather, it was a story of pain, bloodshed, and rebirth. The last picture of the little boy by the barren peach tree made Suguru feel a deep pang of sadness. Could the boy whose soul was given to Sukuna be Itadori Yuuji? Was Yuuji the baby the cursed souls were so committed to protecting? Suguru had a strong inkling that that was the case with Yuuji. Killed too young, but unable to rest with his soul and body being split and hidden away. Forced to wait alone until he was reborn. 

Suguru thought about Riko, the girl who was supposed to be lost forever in Tengen without a say in the matter.

With care, Suguru rerolled the scroll and tied the twine around it once more. He knelt by the scroll for a long, long time. He needed to investigate the scroll more, preferably with the help of Yaga and his friends. Additionally, the textbook written by Itadori Kaori still had much to explore. The only reports of the cursed souls needed to be taken as well. However, Suguru only had two arms. He needed something capable of carrying all of this without damaging the fragile scrolls. A personal inventory of sorts.

He knew exactly what curse to use. 

He just didn’t want to use it. 

“Dammit. The things I do for you, Satoru.” Suguru muttered to himself. He sighed shakily and summoned the curse Toji had once held. The long body of the worm made the black-haired boy shiver in disgust. The memories the worm brought flashed in his mind, and Suguru had to bite his lip to stop from hyperventilating. This was the only curse Suguru had that scared him. He had only absorbed it as an act of petty revenge against Toji, with no intents of ever using it. Suguru felt bile in the back of his throat as the worm wiggled and wrapped against him. With his eyes shut tight, he picked up the first writing he felt, shoving it in the worm's mouth. He did it against and again until the large scroll on the ground was left. 

The worm looked at him with its horrid, purple face. Suguru felt its stare and shivered violently. “I hate you. I need you to know that I hate you.” He spat. 

The curse didn’t respond.

He sat on the ground and gathered the heavy scroll into his arms. With his eyes still snapped shut, he commanded the worm to start swallowing the scroll. He truly hoped Toji was watching from hell as his supposed servant now worked for the sorcerers he had tried to kill. 

Once the worm finished swallowing the scroll, Suguru dismissed it and immediately felt the tension within his body disappear. 

He stood to his full height, stretching his arms above his head until he felt multiple things pop. His sore body ached fiercely, but Suguru couldn’t stop now. The last scroll had finally given Suguru what he needed to help Satoru. While the full story within the scroll was yet to be deciphered, a way to free his best friend’s mind had been revealed. 

The cycle surrounding the bird-dragon entity. A bird had shown up the most in the person’s hallucinations. The bird then freed the person by breaking the eye attached to the victim’s forehead. Once the eye broke, the person was freed.

Suguru was likely the one showing up the most in Satoru’s hallucinations, accounting for the white-haired boy’s reported attempts at killing him. Perhaps seeing the one tormenting him the most suddenly helping him would break Satoru out of his trance more efficiently. Or perhaps make the hallucinations weaker if the subject of the hallucination is acting in contrast to the contents of said hallucination. Either way, it’d provide an opening of sorts to rid Satoru of his torment. 

He would free Satoru. No matter what. Suguru will succeed. There was no need to think of another plan if he fails. Because he won’t fail. 

He wouldn’t forgive himself if he failed. 

-

At some point, Shoko had stopped being surprised by the many antics her insane friends got into. Sure, when they first met, Shoko was caught off guard many times by Satoru and Suguru’s high jinks. It didn’t take long for Shoko to become an accomplice herself in their mischief. Now, Satoru could come into her office covered in chicken feathers with Suguru holding a rabid curse like a puppy, and Shoko wouldn’t bat an eye. It sounded like she was exaggerating, but she had seen the chaotic pair do weirder. As innocent as Suguru looked, she knew that it took practically zero convincing from Satoru to make the black-haired boy join in whatever prank the other was conctoing or vice versa. As long as they didn’t target her, Shoko didn’t care. They had tried to prank her once, but then remembered that she is the one with the best snacks and unlimited library of illegally downloaded movies and television shows. 

Their antics made her smile. 

This, however, did not.

“Do you think Satoru would calm down if we unleashed him in a candy shop or some shit?” Shoko spoke around her unlit cigarette. She wasn’t allowed to smoke in Tengen’s corridors, and all her nerves were already fried. Next to her, Yaga sighed heavily, looking like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. In a way, it was. 

“No. Despite Satoru’s sweet tooth, I doubt that would be enough to return him to his normal state.” Yaga grumbled, arms crossed. His sunglasses blocked all view of his eyes, but the girl could see how tense her teacher’s body was. “Any attempts at releasing him would be seen as treason to jujutsu society, ending in our executions.” 

“Worth a shot.” 

“Don’t even think about releasing him, Shoko.” 

“What makes you think I’d do something that stupid? That’s Suguru’s job.”

“To be stupid or release Satoru?” 

No response. 

The girl looked at her teacher. Her teacher looked at her. Tension formed in the air as the elder awaited the younger’s response. Without further hesitation, Shoko met Yaga’s stare head on. 

“Both.” 

“Shoko.” An exhausted sigh escaped Yaga’s lips, he rubbed his temples to ward off the incoming headache. He took off his sunglasses to start rumbling the bridge of his nose as well. He was so damn tired. These kids. They’ve gotten quite attached to one another. I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen a group of students willing to go so far for each other. In any other world, this would be a good thing, but it is only seen as something to take advantage of in this cruel world. “Suguru will not be releasing Satoru, the decision is up to the elders.” 

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” An unexpectedly sharp tone bled its way into Shoko’s normal monotone. Her passive features twisted in a deadly glare and scowl. The cigarette fell from her mouth as she roughly grabbed the collar of Yaga’s shirt. Despite her small stature, the strength of her iron grip could not be ignored. “Stop turning belly up every time the elders are involved in something!  They don’t care about you or any of us! They certainly don’t care about Satoru! They’re going to try to execute him the second our backs are turned! Because they’re fucking COWARDS!”

“Enough, Shoko-”

A violent tremor shook the ground the two stood on. Instantly, Shoko let go of Yaga and snapped her gaze to the source of the tremor. Or, more accurately, the person.

The one causing the building to shake was the one and only Gojo Satoru, bound from head to toe in chains and protective talismans. However, the talismans were there to protect others from Satoru, not Satoru himself. 

His arms were crossed behind his back and connected to a long chain on the ceiling, forcing the teen’s arms to be in an extremely uncomfortable position. Each leg had a metal bracelet with spikes on the inside, the chain of the bracelets being built into the floor. A heavy belt of chains wrapped around Satoru’s torso for the sole purpose of making it harder for the boy to move and breathe. His mouth was bound tightly with rope covered in more talismans. A much thicker rope was wrapped around his eyes with enchanted fabrics and talismans sewn into every fiber. The cracked floor next to Satoru’s left foot was the cause of the tremor. Satoru had stomped a hole into the floor due to the loud argument Shoko and Yaga were having. His mindless rage returned instantly, causing the boy to thrash in his bindings like a madman.

Drool pooled from the makeshift gag as Satoru writhed in frenzied outrage. He was trying to go towards where he heard Shoko’s voice, but the bindings were not long enough to allow him anything more than a step. Satoru’s muffled howls and screams made Shoko feel nauseous. One of her closest, goofiest friend’s had been reduced to a rabid animal. More cracks litter the floor as Satoru dug his feet into the stone floors, similar to a raging bull. Despite his attempts, the teen was no closer to being free. Satoru was in the middle of a wide room, so he had no walls to lean against or kick . A barrier was put up in addition to Satoru’s bindings. Neither Shoko nor Yaga could go through. It further made Shoko feel like she was looking at an animal at a zoo exhibit. 

“Do you really trust the elders with Satoru?” Shoko whispered, not taking her eyes off of her maddened friend.

“No. I don’t.” 

“Do you trust Suguru with Satoru?” She glanced at Yaga, who was stone faced while looking at his former student. 

“Absolutely.” Yaga spared a quick glance at Shoko before glancing back at the imprisoned boy. 

“Then let him help, sensei. Please.” It was the softest and most vulnerable Yaga had ever heard Shoko. She was normally such a level-headed girl, bordering on apathetic. He felt his doubts wash away at the sheer desperation in her voice. She didn’t show it, but Yaga knew how deeply the teen cared for her peers. 

He placed a hand on her shoulder. Yaga nodded firmly. “Alright.”

For the first time in months, Shoko smiled. “Alright.”

The next couple hours were spent with Yaga and Shoko standing guard over Satoru. Neither of them were comfortable enough with leaving the boy in such a vulnerable state on his own. Each watched with increasing sadness as Satoru’s mind and body deteriorated. His feet were bloodied from his constant kicking and stomping. His ankles were ripped to shreds from the spikes of the metal cuffs. A small pool of blood had gathered beneath Satoru as a result. His wrists were rubbed raw from his thrashing, minutes away from becoming as bloody as his ankles. With his arms being forced to be crossed and raised in the air for so long, Satoru had begun trembling from the strain. His arms were covered in angry, red blotches from the uneven blood flow. To make things worse, the pain in his arms had grown so unbearable that the rope covering Satoru’s eyes became soaked in the boy’s tears. His chest heaved with every breath from the chains around his torso. Despite having reverse cursed technique, Satoru was in no state to use it nor remember that he even had it . Shoko felt useless. She was the healer, yet she was not allowed to go inside the barrier and heal Satoru’s wounds. 

Sporadically, Satoru would have bursts of energy and start howling and thrashing. It was clear that he was trying to go towards where Shoko and Yaga stood, but couldn’t. Whether it was to attack them or not was unknown. There was one terrifying moment where Satoru tried activating his cursed technique. A blue light showed in his palms and the corridors trembled like a wobbly stack of blocks. Shoko would have yelled at Satoru if it wasn’t for Yaga reminding her that it would not snap Satoru out of his trance. Eventually, Satoru’s energy dropped and the glow went away. He twitched and muffled various things for almost an hour nonstop. 

Currently, Satoru had quieted down. His loose white shirt, provided by the lost and found bin the school had, was stained with blood, sweat, and drool. His body was constantly trembling from the muscles being strained for far too long. It looked like his knees would buckle at any minute with how harsh the tremors were. The black pants he wore were too short on his lanky legs and revealed the deep bruising Satoru had given himself by repeatedly kicking at the stone floor. Wheezes escaped the boy’s bound lips. Shoko had no doubt in her mind that his ribs were bruised or even fractured from the tight bindings. Despite his weakened state, she also knew that Satoru was still the strongest in the room. Even with Tengen’s barrier, the miasma cursed energy always held had gotten so thick that Shoko found it hard to breath. It felt like breathing something as volatile as electricity. Her hair as well as Yaga’s had become frizzled from the sheer power within the air. Satoru was still producing cursed energy, likely from his hallucinations causing the boy to think he was in a battle of sorts. However, the cursed energy had nowhere to go due to the talismans and barrier. Moreover, the surplus of energy felt unstable. It reminded Shoko of how Satoru’s technique used to feel when he was a first-year still figuring his powers out. Erratic and ready to ignite at a moment’s notice. 

Shoko had decided to sit down after the first half-hour of watching her friend. Fighting off the want to leave and go smoke had taken all of  her focus. So much so that she barely registered her phone going off. Yaga had to shake her awake. 

“Check your phone. And silence it when you're done.” Yaga mumbled. He patted her shoulder before promptly walking off the opposite side of the room. Neither of them noticed how Satoru’s head tilted towards the sound of Yaga’s shoes clacking against the floor. 

Blinking away her weariness, Shoko pulled out her phone, which miraculously still worked underground. It was a text from Suguru. 

She shot up like a rocket. Relief flooded her so fast that Shoko blurted out, “It’s Suguru!” 

Immediately, a snarl interrupted her mini-celebration. At the name of his supposed best friend, Satoru’s writhing began anew. However, his thrashing was the most violent it's ever been. The air grew thick with power, giving off the scent of ozone. Yaga slapped a hand against his face and groaned. His students were amazing, but stupid. 

“Shit.” Shoko lowered his voice and body. She went back to her phone and read the series of texts Suguru sent her. 

curse_gobbler: @lesbianmalpractice i’ve figured out a way to save @xXxlimitlessfirby42069xXx (Today at 6:08 PM)

curse_gobbler: find a way to get him out of that barrier. i need more time to set up some things on my end. (Today at 6:09 PM)

curse_gobbler: try to send him to the arena we use during exchange events. idc how you do it just do it please. if you can’t do that just send him to the surface and i’ll figure it out. it’s best to have him in the forest (Today at 6:11 PM)

curse_gobbler: text me when you free him pls (Today at 6:12 PM.)

curse_gobbler: if you don’t free him, i will literally kill u and kms (Today at 6:12 PM)

lesbianmalpractice: got it. i think talking shit about u will work. satoru started fucking snarling the second he heard ur name. (Today at 6:13 PM)

curse_gobbler: damn. just get him to activate his limitless and i’m sure it’ll be stronger than tengen’s barrier. (Today at 6:14 PM)

lesbianmalpracitice: u think that satoru’s limitless is more powerful than tengen’s barrier? (Today at 6:14 PM)

curse_gobbler: it has to be. otherwise i can’t do shit. i’m not going to consider anything other than success. i refuse to. (Today at 6:14 PM)

lesbianmalpractice: you’ll succeed suguru. no one knows satoru like u. and when this is all over, we’ll have a movie marathon and sleep for a week. and change satoru’s stupid username (Today at 6:15 PM)

curse_gobbler: i’m looking forward to it (Today at 6:15 PM)

lesbianmalpractice: i am too (Today at 6:16 PM)

“It’ll work.” Shoko whispered to herself. She put her phone in the pocket of her jacket and went to the very edge of Tengen’s barrier. She was so close that she could feel the energy the barrier was emitting. Like clockwork, Satoru lunged towards her, not going very far. One of the spikes within his ankles bracelets had become wedged deep into the skin, but Satoru showed no signs of pain. With a deep breath, Shoko shouted as loudly as she could. “SUGURU IS STRONGER THAN YOU. I HOPE SUGURU BEATS YOU TO A PULP. SUGURU IS GOING TO STOP YOU. SUGURU IS BETTER! SUGURU! SUGURU! SUGURU IS GOING TO SAVE YOU, SATORU!”

“What are you doing, Shoko?! Do you want him to-”

A shockwave of pure cursed energy caused each sorcerer to crash to the ground. Cracks littered the ground, even outside of Tengen’s barrier. Satoru screamed against his binds, thrashing so hard that Shoko heard several bones crack. The scent of ozone intensified until Shoko felt her nostrils burn. She motioned Yaga to come to her and not the line of fire. 

Satoru roared as he jerkled his arms down, causing a sickening snap to fill the air. 

He had broken his arms and dislocated his shoulders to have his hands in front of him. Screaming, Satoru pulled his wrists apart until the skin tore. Eventually, the chain connecting the shackles together snapped. With his arms bleeding profusely, Satoru raised his hands to the rope around his mouth and tugged harshly, immediately breaking it in two. Satoru spat the rope out and gasped deep lungfuls of air.

With each breath, the wounds around Satoru began to close. His reversed technique had finally kicked in with the removal of some of the talismans. Satoru tore apart the chains around his torso like paper, screaming while he did so. He broke into a coughing fit with the sudden decrease in pressure on his lungs. In seconds, Satoru recovered and went to the shackles around his heavily damaged ankles. Eachspike was embedded deep into his ankles. With a frustrated snarl, Satoru raised a hand in the air and chopped off his right ankle. Shoko felt herself recoil at the sight, wanting to instinctively go to her friend and slap him beside the head for being so reckless. However, the ankle was fully restored in the blink of an eye. Satoru repeated the same motion with his other ankle. With everything except for his eyes being freed, Satoru took the time to reset his shoulders. He showed no hint of pain. Instead of agonizing screams or whimpers, Satoru’s lips were moving in an apparent conversation with himself. He stopped suddenly and froze, his lips still busy frantically muttering nonsense. 

Shoko saw how hard Satoru shook. Healing broken bones and amputated limbs took an indescribable amount of cursed energy. Satoru may have a well of cursed energy deeper than comprehension, but he was still human. He hadn’t drank or eaten in days and had just used massive amounts of cursed energy. 

He needed a boost. 

“SUGURU IS AT THE SCHOOL, SATORU! HE’S WAITING FOR YOU!” 

It was exactly what he needed. 

As if a switch had been flicked, Satoru jolted from his prior catatonic state. He locked his covered eyes with Shoko. “ Where. Where is he? ”

His voice was nearly unrecognizable with how raspy it was. It sounded painful, like each syllable was an agony to suffer through. She shook her head to rid herself of her worried thoughts. “He’s in the forest where the exchange event usually takes place! Suguru is waiting for you there, Satoru.” It was clear that the hallucinations were making Satoru see Suguru as some monster to be stopped. Shoko saw how tense Satoru was getting, a viper ready to strike. She backed away and motioned Yaga to do the same. “Yeah. Suguru’s there, Satoru. Suguru is dangerous. He’s already killed people.” 

Before she could breathe, Satoru ripped off the rope around his eyes and bore his maddened gaze into Shoko. He banged his fists on the barrier. “WHO?! WHO DID HE KILL?!  TELL ME NOW!”

Make him use limitless. Make him stronger than Tengen, even if it’s just for a second. He has to be stronger. He’ll die if he isn’t. She swallowed. “Everyone.”

It was silent for a moment before all hell broke loose. The ground, walls, and ceilings trembled as Satoru began to howl a scream of pure loss and pain. A purple glow was starting to emit from Satoru’s palms. In addition, the barrier shook with effort to contain the boy. It got brighter and brighter as Satoru charged up enough energy to blow up the whole country.

“WE HAVE TO GO.” Yaga shouted, grasping onto Shoko’s arms and running towards a random corridor. She ran alongside him, heart beating rapidly in her chest. The howls of rage echoes in the chambers. Shoko felt her lip wobble as she ran and bit it harsh enough to draw blood. 

Thankfully it seemed that Tengen wasn’t upset at them, allowing them to pass through the many doors and pathways. All the while, the entire place shuddered. Debris started falling and the air around her grew hot and thick.

Just as Shoko and Yaga exited the Tombs of the Star Corridor, a violent explosion followed. With his reactivation of Limitless, Gojo Satoru managed to escape Tengen’s barrier. It couldn’t contain Infinite afterall. Moreover, all it takes is a single drop too many to make a container overflow. 

-

Suguru felt his stomach drop the second he heard the explosion in the distance. Both from relief and dread. Relief for Satoru being freed, but dread for what’s to come. When Suguru told Shoko he had a plan, it was a complete lie. At best, he had the torn scraps of a plan that should be over one hundred pages long. For once, he was grateful for his technique allowing him such a large variety of abilities. He would need his adaptability in battle more than anything else. 

The air around him grew heavy with what felt like static. Suguru stood his ground as he saw the bushes shake and trees tremble. He made sure his senses were strained to the limit to detect any signs of Satoru. The snap of a twig, the crunch of a leaf, even the scent of ice Satoru’s skin tended to have. Several of his curses were released into the forest, and he waited until he felt one of them be exorcized.

First one down.

Second.

Third.

Fourth. Firth. Sixth. Ninth. Thirteenth. Wait-

“Oh fuck.” Suguru braced himself as all of his curses were exorcized in moments. He had thought that they would buy him some time, but he had forgotten how powerful Satoru truly was. Especially a Satoru with no restraint. “Please be-”

He didn’t even get to blink before he was tackled into the dirt, a bony knee stabbing into his back. 

His curses were all semi-grade one and above. Satoru had defeated them all in less than a minute! 

For the first time since meeting the white-haired boy, Suguru truly felt afraid of Gojo Satoru.

“I didn’t take you as the one to hide, Suguru. Sending weak curses after me instead of facing me head on. You’ve sure fallen from grace~” Satoru snarled into Suguru’s ear, his hot breath causing the other to shiver. An ice cold hand wrapped around Suguru’s hair and yanked. “Did you really think I’d let a bastard like you escape a second time? No. Unlike you, I learn from my mistakes.” 

Suguru felt like he was about to be scalped with how hard Satoru held his hair. The knee on his back felt more like a knife digging into his spine. Having Satoru talk to him as if he was a monster made Suguru want to curl into a ball and disappear. All the thoughts he had about himself only being capable of hatred and anger reappeared. His eyes watered as Satoru yanked his hair again. He swore he felt something tear. He had been foolish. Suguru had thought that he would be able to handle Satoru, even if it was for a small amount of time. To even assume he was on the same level as Satoru was the most idiotic thing Suguru had ever done. There was no escaping Satoru’s grip. 

“You’ve gotten away with far too much, Suguru. I can’t even look at you anymore without wanting to incinerate you into bits and pieces. Not that you deserve such a swift end. I’ll make it slow. Just like how you tortured me for years, I’ll do the same to you.”

The volatile tension in the air grew, and Suguru was suddenly filled with regrets. Even if Satoru was deep into his own tortured mind and hallucinations, Suguru still felt like there was a level of truth to his words. He had fallen from grace. Suguru had started as a reliable, respected sorcerer, the pride and joy of his family. He was molded to be the perfect little soldier, and he fulfilled that role for years. He always kept a polite smile on his face and made sure to be as selfless as possible. Anytime he tried to do something of his own fruition, Suguru would freeze like a glitching computer. He had no thoughts of his own, only the thoughts of what a ‘hero’ would do and how a ‘sorcerer’ should behave. He had eventually come to see the teachings of his elders as law. He believed in them like a dedicated sorcerer should. He helped non-sorcerer's without hesitation. That was what he was told was right. And wasn’t it the right thing to do? Helping someone couldn’t ever be seen as bad, right? His elders didn’t lie about that. 

So why does Suguru feel like they did lie to him? They only wanted him to be the best sorcerer he could be, that wasn’t something to hate them for.

 But Suguru still did. 

He hated his teachers. He hated his parents even more. Suguru was the first sorcerer in his family line, so none of them knew what to do when their son started talking about seeing monsters in the walls. They quickly grew into seeing it as a blessing to be nurtured. His parents spent almost all their money on tutors, barely having enough for housing and food. Family members who he didn’t know existed flocked to Suguru and showered him in presents to further his career as a sorcerer. They sacrificed so much for him, so Suguru should be grateful. It was the fact that he wasn’t that bothered him greatly. His hatred towards his parents grew so intense that he dreamed of killing them multiple times. What kind of person thinks of killing their own parents? Suguru apparently. He was built wrong, malformed and useless. Saying that he’s a monster was not a stretch of the imagination by any means. His dark thoughts had grown this past year, only further proving Suguru’s point. 

Maybe he should let Satoru kill him. 

Afterall, he was the worst friend in the world. Satoru was friends with an empty shell, and empty shells can’t make a good friend. He just spat out rehearsed lines someone else had told him. Sure, he joked around with Satoru and they had become attached at the hip, but Satoru was friends with the perfect sorcerer Suguru was sculpted as. All of his thoughts and actions were based on those of another. The real Suguru didn’t know anything. What to think. How to feel. Why to continue on. His only true thought was his plan to rid the world of non-sorcerers. It had been the only thing that Suguru had believed in that wasn’t associated with his elder’s teachings in any way. That spoke bounds as to who Suguru truly was. A monster hellbent on killing innocents. That kind of person shouldn’t be Satoru’s friend. Not when Satoru was the most special thing in Suguru’s life. He couldn’t taint someone as pure as Satoru. It didn’t matter that they both had blood on their hands, Satoru’s soul was unstained. Suguru’s was stained by the putrid darkness within him. He had wanted to kill every non-sorcerer with a burning passion. A passion that was his own making. A passion that was just murder. Genocide. That was Suguru. A killing machine. 

A monster who still wanted to kill non-sorcerers. The hatred hadn’t gone away, still raging inside him. He hated those monkeys. Even after everything, Suguru couldn’t let his hatred go. Any normal person would. Satoru would. Satoru was the person that took all the blows so no one else would. Satoru was loud, obnoxious, and infuriating. He enjoyed causing mischief and roped Suguru into his plans every time. Satoru reveled in the mayhem he caused, but there was so much more to him. For instance, Satoru would cause Suguru to laugh until his sides hurt and eyes watered without prompt. He would buy Suguru and Shoko the most lavish gifts just because he could, often showing up with decadent desserts and luxurious souvenirs for the two at any time. It didn't  need to be their birthday, Satoru would just give Suguru the most expensive hoodie he had ever seen and try to justify his random gift by teasing Suguru about his style or some other weak excuse. Hell, Satoru had gifted Suguru a crystal statue of a dragon that was covered in diamonds and emeralds just because it reminded the boy of Suguru's Rainbow Dragon curse. No one had ever given Suguru gifts like that before. He was used to receiving textbooks and weapons on his birthday or during holidays. It was always about Suguru being a jujutsu sorcerer, not Suguru himself. Satoru, for some impossible reason, cared for Suguru. And Suguru was too selfish to tell Satoru to stop. 

Satour was everything to him. Suguru couldn’t imagine his life without Satoru. He was beautiful and absolutely radiant . His one and only.

Yet Suguru was willing to leave him behind.

How many times did Satoru have nightmares of the Toji incident? Of Riko’s assassination and Satoru’s own assassination attempt? Suguru used to hold Satoru and cuddle him every time his closest friend had nightmares or was simply feeling down. He would hold onto Satoru tightly, and the other would hold him even tighter, whispering ‘thank yous’ nonstop. Satoru was someone who grew up without a shred of affection, so he clung to Suguru like a koala whenever he could. How hurt must have Satoru felt when Suguru never showed up to comfort him? Fuck . When was the last time he hugged Satoru? Truly embraced him, not the desperate hug he shared in a half-conscious state with Nanami and Satoru after the disastrous Sendai mission. An actual hug, the ones where no words are shared as Suguru wraps his arms around Satoru’s waist, and Satoru can feel Suguru’s warmth while Suguru can feel the pleasant coolness of Satoru’s ivory skin. The hugs where Satoru nuzzles into the crook of Suguru’s neck with a happy hum, fitting like perfect puzzle pieces against each other. The hugs that last so long that Suguru ends up flopping on his or Satoru’s bed, continuing to hold the other as sleep takes hold of Satoru first while Suguru cards his fingers through impossibly soft snow-white hair before falling asleep himself. The hugs that leave Suguru’s soul so light and whole that it’s physically painful to separate. 

He couldn’t remember. 

“I’m sorry.” Suguru blurted out, his voice shaky and watery. The second the words left him, it was like the floodgates of Suguru’s soul opened. Tears quickly formed in Suguru’s eyes, streaming down his face in seconds. HIs chest heaved as Suguru began to cry for the first time in over a year. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Satoru. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’msorryI’msorryI’msorry -”

He couldn’t stop apologizing to Satoru. There was so much he had done that needed to be rectified. The grip around his hair loosened as Suguru, normally known for being composed and level headed, grew hysterical. His sobbing made his apologies slur together until even he didn’t know what he was saying. He didn’t stop. Even as he felt the dirt beneath his face turn muddy from his tears and snot, he continued to bawl like a toddler. He felt horrible. He felt so lost. He felt guilty and shameful and just badbadbad. 

“ ‘M sorry, Satoru.” Suguru sobbed out, his chest aching with how forcefully he said those words. His very soul was aching, and he didn’t know how to make it stop. He was remembering everything all over again. His parents. His teachers. Jujutsu Sorcery. Satoru. Shoko. Yaga Nanami. Riko. Haibara. Toji .  Finally, Suguru reached his breaking point. All the trauma and pain he had experienced came down all at once. He began to blubber like a child. “It’s my fault! I shouldn’t have left you! It’s all my fault you got hurt! Riko died ‘cause of me. I couldn’t protect her. I couldn’t protect you! And then I left you all alone for months even though I knew how much you were hurting! I ignored you, and I shouldn’t have! I’m sorry, Satoru! I know I’m a monster! I know I’ve caused you so much pain! Fuck, you died for a moment and I wasn’t there! I don’t know how to be there for you anymore, Satoru! I don’t know how to do anything! I’m a fucking fraud! I’m not a hero! I’m not good like you! You have every right to kill me! I’ll hurt more people if I live, that’s all I’m good at! And I’ve hurt you more than anyone else and I can’t do that! I can’t do this anymore, Satoru, so just do it already! Please -”

“NO!” 

The knee on his back and grip on his hair disappeared. It shocked Suguru out of his meltdown, allowing the boy to take a much needed breath. He felt frozen as he breathed in harshly, the air thick with tension. So quiet that Suguru could only hear his own heartbeat and breath. 

“Shut up. Shut the hell up this instant!” Satoru shrieked. In said instant, Suguru felt his heart skip a beat at the unhinged tone. It sounded nothing like the Satoru he knew, his voice was completely unrecognizable. Identical to someone deemed deranged or a lunatic.

Silence overcame them once more. Neither moving an inch.

The trembling breaths of Satoru were the only clue as to where the teen was, which was directly behind Suguru. Somehow, Satoru felt far too close and incredibly far away at the same time. 

“Be quiet, you bastard… Just shut up. Don’t cry like that…Please not like that! I can’t take it. I can’t either. It’s too much.” Satoru whispered in a terrified plea, a complete shift from his prior cold brutality. The weak murmurs of the white-haired teen paralyzed Suguru. “Don’t cry. Please don’t cry. I didn’t mean to…I didn’t… I’m sorry. Come back to me, please…Don’t go…”

Satoru then grew silent for several, tense minutes.

Then Satoru moved.

A few twigs snapped as Satoru walked around a still prone Suguru. He looked down at him, but Suguru noticed the violent shaking of his fists. Satoru, only clad in a dirty shirt and too short pants, had no sunglasses to hide his eyes. The clarity Suguru expected to see was nonexistent. They were foggy and unfocused. His eyelids twitched, and Suguru could see just how unstable Satoru was. His own mind was too exhausted to come up with a plan, energy drained from his outburst. Suguru rose from the floor to his knees, not feeling confident enough to stand. 

Satoru inhaled sharply. He glared at Suguru and barked out, “Don’t say that! Don’t you dare say that, you fucking asshole! Quit throwing yourself a pity party!” The teen then gripped the collar of his shirt tightly and looked at the dirt. His form shook as Satoru’s head twitched. His hands then wrenched to his head and started clawing at his cheeks. Satoru heaved in violent breaths. “Quit acting like him! You’re not him! Right?! Are you him?! But your forehead…It’s not…Is it there?! I can’t remember! Shit, I can’t remember anything!” 

He’s still hallucinating . Suguru remembered with a gasp. His breakdown had left him empty and exhausted. Yet, Suguru had no time to rest. He had to pull himself together and help Satoru. Even so, his mind wasn’t cooperating whatsoever. His body was sapped of all energy, his head pounded, his eyes burned, his stomach ached from both nausea and hunger, and Suguru wanted to curl up in a ball forever. Both his body and mind were useless. It was like trying to tie two broken strings together, only the strings have gotten so weathered and thin that it breaks each time a knot is attempted. Suguru made eye contact with Satoru, feeling like the scum of the earth. “Satoru-”

“Shut up!” Satoru wrenched his body from Suguru like it burned him. He took several steps back with shaking legs. “I’ve heard enough!”

“Satoru, please-”

“BE QUIET!” 

In a flash, Satoru was gripping Suguru by the collar of his jacket, holding him high in the air effortlessly. The forest around them seemed to grow quiet as the two stared at each other. 

Being so close, Suguru saw how terrible Satoru looked. He had forgotten that he had been comatose for several days while Satoru had been awake the entire time. Satoru had been hallucinating for days . Satoru’s body trembled nonstop, and Suguru noticed how translucent and sickly his skin looked. Blood was stained around his shirt and pants, sweat beaded from his forehead, and his eyes were bloodshot. The bags around his cloudy eyes and the slight hollowness of his cheeks meant that Satoru hadn’t slept or eaten since the Sendai mission. 

His body is shutting down. He’s going to pass out some time soon. I just have to wait it out. Suguru raised his tired arms to grasp the hand holding his collar. It didn’t budge, but Suguru held onto it tightly. He remembered the cycle the painting showed.

The bird that plagued the victim’s mind the most pecked the victim's forehead, making the eye on their head disappear and freeing the victim. 

Pecking.

An idea popped into Suguru's chaotic mind, the most idiotic idea he had ever had. But he had nothing else. 

Suguru summoned a curse to drag him back to the ground. The moment its tentacle wrapped around Suguru’s leg and pulled, Satoru jolted in surprise. Once his feet were planted on the ground, Suguru took advantage of Satoru being distracted, wrapping his arms around Satoru’s shoulders. Satoru snapped his head towards Suguru, his cloudy eyes unable to focus. Not allowing Satoru the chance to center himself, he went through with his desperate idea. 

He crashed his forehead down on Satoru’s in a brutal headbutt. 

The painful snap of both their necks was disorienting, a welt already beginning to form, but Suguru seized the opportunity to free himself from Satoru’s grip. Blood streamed down each of their foreheads, but Satoru was the most affected. He went to grasp his head, dizziness causing Satoru to wobble and sway. 

Suguru got into a defensive position, fists ready to retaliate. His eyes frantically searched for an eyeball on Satoru’s head, but he found none. The eyeball must have been symbolic then. That makes things so much harder! I can’t tell if I broke him out of the trance or not! He hissed as the pain in his head intensified. Battling would be impossible with Suguru in such a state. 

“What the hell, Suguru?! Why did you do that?! That hurt!” 

There it is. The bright voice Satoru was supposed to have. His impulsive idea had worked.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry, Satoru! Are you with me now? Can you see me?” Suguru, ignoring his mind’s warning, walked towards Satoru. He had his hands low in a placating gesture. He felt relief, but he still approached with trepidation. Satoru made no moves to attack. In fact, the boy was rubbing the bleeding welt on his forehead with a pout. “Satoru?”

“You’re lucky I can use the Reverse Cursed Technique, or else Shoko would have beat your ass. Damn, your head is like a rock, no wonder you’re so dense sometimes!” Satoru giggled. He looked like the Satoru who Suguru had come to know. With ease, Satoru healed himself and glanced at Suguru with a smirk. However, it faded as quickly as it appeared. Both of Satoru’s arms went limp at his sides. He froze like a statue, boring his eyes into Suguru’s. Disregarding the warning signs, Suguru stepped closer until he was inches apart from his friend. With the most gentleness Suguru could muster, he placed a hand on Satoru’s shoulder with his other hand cupping Satoru’s cheek. The white-haired boy’s head went limp in Suguru’s hold. His trembling grew even stronger, along with Satoru now gasping for breath. 

“Satoru!” Suguru wrapped both arms tightly around Satoru’s chest, knowing what to do on instinct alone. One hand rubbed his back in soothing strokes while the other soothes fingers through Satoru’s hair. The movements were smooth and well-practiced. He felt Satoru put all of his weight on Suguru suddenly. Thinking that he had passed out, Suguru leaned back to gaze at Satoru. Only he was still awake. However, the cloudiness of Satoru’s eyes faded more and more. Satoru’s hyperventilating grew into slow, deep breaths. 

He was back. Satoru was back.

Then he felt Satoru violenting wrench away.

Satoru stumbled to a random log with his hand covering his mouth. He used the log as support as Satoru began to gag and retch. Because there was no food to throw up, Satoru was left uncontrollably dry-heaving. On autopilot, Suguru went to Satoru and helped get his hair out of his face. It was second nature to be near Satoru, so Suguru ignored the ozone tint of the air to rub Satoru’s back. His mind was so discombobulated that Suguru forgot the delicate circumstance he was in. 

The sun had begun to set when Satoru stopped retching nothing but stomach acid. Satoru spit on the ground and shakily got up. When Suguru tried to help Satoru stand more stably, he realized that there was more going on with Satoru than Suguru thought. He seemed to be in reality, but his behavior was off-kilter. Satoru pushed Suguru away, the evening sun casting a deep orange glow on the forest and teens. There were no signs of Satoru hallucinating, but Satoru was still acting strange with his wide eyes locking with Satoru’s. 

“Are you-”

“You were going to defect and kill all non-sorcerers, right? Get rid of the ‘monkeys’. Killing hundreds of people and your own parents. You were gonna do that, right?”

All of Suguru’s veins turned to ice. “How-”

“Don’t give me any bullshit, Suguru. You had a plan to annihilate all non-sorcerers from Japan. I need an answer. No excuses. Did you plan to exterminate non-sorcerers and defect from Jututsu society? Yes or no?”

It felt like Satoru was towering over Suguru, a god looking down upon mere ants. Suguru clenched his fists so hard that his knuckles turned white. Was Satoru paying attention when Suguru brokedown? Did he know beforehand? No matter how Satoru obtained the information, he was expecting Suguru to respond. With no doubt or hesitation, Suguru answered. “Yes.”

“Why.” 

It took Suguru by surprise to hear Satoru not scream at him or kill him for his plans. He blinked, waiting for any further responses from Satoru, but the teen simply stood stiffly with a piercing gaze. Suguru looked down at the dirt. He scowled at the memories that flooded in. Riko. Toji. The applause. The deafening fucking applause. “They’re monkeys, Satoru. Their inability to control cursed energy has caused us jujutsu sorcerers to die fighting the curses they create! Jujutsu sorcerers die day in and day out because the monkeys continue to live! That’s all they are, Satoru! What have they ever done for us? Have they died for us?! Have they ever tried returning the favor?!  The answer is they haven’t! We die for them . We fight murderous curses constantly for them . We have our comrades slaughtered for them . I have to consume and absorb curses over and over and over again FOR THEM ! AND THEY’RE NOT EVEN GRATEFUL! THEY’RE MONKEYS WHO KNOW NOTHING BUT TO APPLAUSE FOR THEIR OWN STUPIDITY! Listen, Satoru! Without the monkeys, we wouldn’t have to fight curses ever again! This country would be much better off with only jujutsu sorcerers! I hate those monkeys, all they have ever done is be cruel and ungrateful, and I’m not going to be convinced to believe otherwise.” The more Suguru spoke, the more emboldened he became. The hateful passion ignited once more, and Suguru told Satoru the plan he had been cultivating for a year.

 It was disturbing to see Suguru go from staying calm to completely melting down to yelling out all of his digressions with humanity. He knew it was wrong of him, but the control of his emotions had vanished. He was a sea of anger, regret, and grief, the waves moving him in all directions with no chance of allowing Suguru to choose where he went. He was unstable. Satoru was unstable. Both boys were in horrible headspaces, only having each other to lean on, not knowing how the suffering within them grew worse and worse. 

“You hate non-sorcerers.”

“I do…”

“Non-sorcerers are monkeys that contribute nothing to our world.”

“Yeah. They are monkeys. I can’t see them any other way.”

“...”

“...”

“Was Riko a dumb, drooling  monkey that deserves to die?” Satoru asked with an eerily calm voice. His expression was hidden due to the lack of light from the setting sun. He cocked his head to the side and scoffed. “Would you have killed her yourself if she was still here?”

All of Suguru’s fire went out. He didn’t know the answer to that. Suguru was planning to kill his parents since there were no exceptions in his quest for eradicating monkeys. The thought of killing Riko made bile rise in his throat. Suguru scoffed. “She’s dead, so it doesn’t matter.”

“Quit deflecting Suguru. I need an answer.” Satoru replied coolly. The two best friends looked like they were about to face each other in a battle of the death.  Dark orange shined on Suguru’s features while a reddish-orange encased Satoru. A foot apart. Face to face. The Strongest. 

While Gojo Satoru had been broken out of his hellish reprieve, his brain was permanently altered. The trance causing him to hallucinate was broken when Getou Suguru made contact with his forehead. He had unknowingly fulfilled a binding vow. In exchange for making the psychic attack exponentially stronger, a way to break it was implemented: the main subject of the hallucinations must make skin to skin contact with the victim head. No one that had suffered under the psychic attack had ever managed to be freed. The first person to break out of the trance was Gojo Satoru. However, there was more to Gojo Satoru’s trance. Unbeknownst to Getou Suguru, Gojo Satoru had been given over two decades of information in the span of a couple days. His brain suffered permanent damage. In an act of pure impulsive and reckless thought, Gojo Satoru made a gamble he would have never made prior to the attack.

“If you tell me that Riko is a monkey who deserves to die, and you mean it whole-heartedly, then I will join you and help eradicate all non-sorcerers. I’ll even make a binding vow that will ensure my loyalty if you have doubts. Just tell me you hate Riko, and I’ll go with you to make your plans become a reality.”

Out of anything that Satoru could have uttered, this was the most unexpected outcome of all. In no world did Suguru imagine that Satoru would agree with him and join him. It should be impossible for someone like Satoru to be willing to do such a thing. A binding vow was a serious matter in all cases, and Satoru just opened himself up to one. Imagining Satoru by his side while they get rid of all monkeys was both a pipedream and Suguru’s worst nightmare. He couldn’t do that to Satoru. He was too good of a person. 

Yet he was offering his aid and loyalty. All Satoru needed was Suguru to admit what he truly thinks about Riko, that she is a monkey like the rest of non-sorcerers. 

If Suguru admitted such a thing and meant it, then the binding vow would be fulfilled immediately. Satoru would join his side and defect from Jujutsu Society. He could finally leave. His plans were no longer farfetched with someone like Satoru by his-

Someone like Satoru would hate every second. 

He couldn’t do that to Satoru. Making Satoru suffer in such a way would be the cruelest thing Suguru had ever done. Satoru meant too much to Suguru. He couldn’t drag Satoru from his place in the stars to the dark hellscape Suguru belonged in. 

And to top everything off…

Suguru couldn’t say Riko was a monkey and mean it. It would be a total lie. 

Would he have to give up on his plans? He wanted to stay with his friends, but wanted to leave and get rid of the monkeys that caused them to get hurt. Haibara was killed by a curse. A curse spawned from non-sorcerers. His friends would never suffer again if he eradicated the source of all curses. 

Riko was a non-sorcerer. 

Were there curses that spawned from Riko’s negative emotions? 

How many sorcerers were killed by those curses? Should she-

 I want to be with everyone longer!

I want to go to all kinds of places with everyone!

I want to see all kinds of things and do more!

Riko loved life and wanted to see all parts of it. She loved life more than anyone he had ever met. She was like the little sister Suguru never had. 

Let’s go home, Riko-chan. 

Yeah!

But a bullet through her skull snuffed out her light. 

What if he was the one holding the gun, seeing her as just another monkey to exterminate?

Non-sorcerers were monkeys. Riko was a non-sorcerer, but was she-

“She’s not.” Suguru gasped out. His eyes immediately began to water. “She didn’t deserve to be killed! All she wanted to do was stay with us and Misato-san! That’s all she wanted, Satoru! But that monkey Toji shot her before she had a chance to live that life! She and Misato-san were the only good non-sorcerers, but they’re dead! There aren’t any other non-sorcerers worth sparing left! Don’t you remember how those monkey’s applauded Riko-chan’s death?! None of them are worth sparing! None!” 

“What makes you think a society of sorcerers would be better?!” Satoru snapped back. He grit his teeth in a snarl. “Sorcerers are worse than non-sorcerers! If non-sorcerers are monkeys, then I’m a fucking monster!”

What?

“Satoru, you are no-” Suguru instantly went to shut down such false claims. 

“OF COURSE I AM!” It felt like Suguru had been slapped in the face. Satoru marched over towards Suguru and pushed him. Hard. There was so much force that Suguru was sent slamming into a tree, causing the bark to splinter and crack. Satoru wasn’t finished. His rage was palpable in the air. His eyes seemed to glow with how intensely they glared at the black-haired teen. “I BARELY EVEN TOUCHED YOU, AND YOU WERE SENT SEVERAL HUNDRED FEET! SORCERERS ARE MONSTERS COMPARED TO NON-SORCERERS! AND I’M THE WORST OF THEM ALL. YOU KEEP SAYING HOW NON-SORCERERS ARE MONKEYS, LIKE THEY AREN’T EVEN HUMAN ANYMORE! JUST PESTS TO BE REMOVED! WHAT DOES THAT MAKE ME THEN, HUH?! I’VE KILLED PEOPLE! I’VE HURT PEOPLE! I’M MORE OF A MONSTER THAN ANYONE ELSE! DO YOU KNOW HOW BADLY I WANT TO BE HUMAN?! I DON’T WANT TO BE SOME FUCKING WEAPON! I NEVER ASKED TO BE A SORCERER, AND NON-SORCERERS DON’T CHOOSE TO SPAWN CURSES! I’LL NEVER BE A HUMAN! NO MATTER HOW HARD I TRY!”

A blast of pure cursed energy shot from Satoru’s palms. The explosion that followed caused several trees to crash and even more ignite in flames. Tears of utter rage flowed down Satoru’s cheeks. He went to Suguru and yanked him into a standing position. With the sun almost set and the fire spreading, the forest looked to be bathed in crimson. Satoru gestured a sweeping hand towards the growing inferno. He let out a painful laugh. 

“This is me, Suguru!” Satoru let Suguru go unceremoniously and spread his arms wide. “In a society where non-sorcerers with no abilities are deemed monkeys, then I can only be this! A monster of pure destruction!” Satoru said cheerily, sending another blast of cursed energy through the forest, causing a crater to be formed where the great trees once stood. “This is me holding back, Suguru! What would I be in your perfect society if I can do this, hm~”

Suguru looked at Satoru in horror. No. The only monster was Suguru. Satoru wasn’t. If he was a monster, then Suguru didn’t know what he would classify at. His body was covered in scrapes with bruises quickly forming. Something had definitely fractured and blood was pouring from the cuts on his skull. Even so, he stood tall. “You’re not a monster! You save people with those powers-”

“I don’t.” Satoru whispered. It was then like all the energy had been sapped out of Satoru. Finally, the dehydration, sleep deprivation, and lack of food caught up to the boy, even someone as powerful as Gojo Satoru. He collapsed into Suguru’s arms, who had instinctively gone to catch him. Satoru’s body couldn't take it anymore. While Satoru remained conscious, he felt the exhaustion within his very bones call for him. He refused to give in. “I don’t save people, Suguru. I never really have. I’m much better at the opposite. Shit, I had already killed two people before I even turned ten! How wild is that? You know, I killed the puppy I was given for my seventh birthday after one day of having her. I accidentally petted her too hard and snapped her neck. And that was me trying my best to be gentle! That’s me, Suguru. I’m a freak of nature. So…How can you hate non-sorcerers so much if I’m worse?” 

The blistering heat of the fire was uncomfortable, but Suguru kept holding Satoru despite the rising temperatures. It was getting harder to breathe with the smoke from the forest fire that had gotten out of control. They needed to move, but Suguru stayed put. He couldn’t move if he tried. He was in a state of utter shock. Processing Satoru’s words was frying Suguru’s brain. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around Satoru seeing himself as anything but incredible. Suguru placed his cheek against Satoru’s soft hair. “I’m sorry, Satoru. You’re not a monster. You’re the complete opposite. You are the most beautiful person I have ever seen, and everything about you makes me feel like I’m in the presence of an angel more often than not.” Suguru let out a small smile when he felt Satoru snort at his words. He ignored the flames as a wave of serenity came over him. It felt like they were in their own bubble of sorts. “To be honest…I don’t know who I am or what I believe anymore. I hate non-sorcerers, but labeling Riko as a monkey would be tarnishing her name. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, Satoru. That’s why I distanced myself for all this time. You were figuring things out while everything around me was unraveling. I didn’t want to drag you down with me. I thought I’d get my shit together, but I didn’t. I just got worse.” Suguru tightened his hold on Satoru at that. He had gotten to his lowest, darkest points this past year. No good came out of his self-isolation. “I still don’t know what to do now, but I do know that I’m not leaving you. I want to stay by your side if you’d let me. Maybe we can figure things out together. I found out so much about cursed souls, and we’ll need to be ready for Sukuna. We need to prepare for a lot of things. I’d be a dick and an idiot if I left now. I’m staying. I understand if you don’t want to be friends with me anymore after this, but I’ll still help you and the others in any way I can. I promise, Satoru. I’ll be with you in whatever way you’ll allow me.”

Satoru shifted in his hold, a sign to be let go. Feeling anxiety ice his nerves, Suguru loosened his embrace. He prepared himself for Satoru’s rejection and scorn. He deserved it after all he put Satoru through. 

Instead, Satoru didn’t yell. He didn’t look upset whatsoever. He rolled his eyes with such fondness that Suguru felt his cheeks burn far hotter than the flames around them.

He cupped Suguru’s cheeks. 

“This is for being an asshole and leaving me alone for a year.”

Satoru slapped him. A red handprint immediately started to form on Suguru’s face. “I deserve that.” 

“You do.” Satoru then cupped his cheeks once more. His eyes shone in joy, but Suguru had no clue what was the cause of Satoru’s happiness. Is it because he’ll be free of Suguru? It made sense if so. Suguru was a blight on Satoru’s future. He was horrible and selfish. Bad all around. Someone like him didn’t deserve to be around someone as perfect as-

 Satoru pressed his lips against his own. 

Oh . 

Before Satoru pulled away, Suguru melted into the kiss. Satoru let out a happy hum and wrapped his arms around Suguru’s neck. Neither of them cared about the sweat, blood, and dirt that covered the other. The kiss seemed to last for centuries despite being a few seconds. 

“That’s for staying.” Satoru whispered against Suguru’s lips. Both took in some much needed air, faces centimeters apart. “I’m not letting you leave.”

“I’ll hold you to it, Satoru.” He smiled into their next kiss, both of them suddenly insatiable now that they finally had a taste of the other. The months of loneliness and longing were over. Suguru didn’t feel lost anymore. He had Satoru and the others to help guide him down a new path. It would be a slow process, but Suguru wouldn’t be alone for a second of it. 

As their kisses got deeper, Suguru felt a hole within his soul, a hole he didn’t even realize he had, fill. He felt complete. 

The taste of a curse was vile. Curses taste like a rag used to clean up shit and vomit. He was the only person who knew the taste, calling it disgusting would be a massive understatement. No other sorcerer had the misfortune of knowing what a curse tastes like. Suguru had to be trained from a young age to swallow the putrid monsters. Overtime, he’s gotten used to the taste, but it was still as unpleasant as ever. 

The taste of Satoru couldn’t be more different.

Kissing Satoru was now Suguru’s favorite thing in the world. He tasted like mint, which made sense considering Satoru was always cold to the touch, and sugar, likely caused by Satoru’s infamous sweet tooth. Minty and sweet. It was Suguru’s new favorite flavor, and he was content if that’s the only thing he tastes for the rest of his life. 

When they finally separated, Satoru placed his head in the crook of Suguru’s neck, the white-haired teen’s favorite spot. Suguru could feel Satoru smiling against his neck. “Heh. You like me~”

“Maybe a little.” Suguru smiled in turn. 

“So are we boyfriends now? ‘Cause I will kick your ass if you friendzone me.” 

A warmth Suguru had never felt before bloomed in his chest. “If that’s what you want, then I’d be happy to start courting you.”

“Pfft. Courting? What is this, the eighteen-hundreds?” Satoru teased. It felt so familiar that Suguru couldn’t help but hold Satoru even closer. The other wiggled until his lanky body was fully seated in Suguru’s lap. “I think we should call ourselves something.”

“Do you not like the term boyfriend? We can label ourselves as partners or something else you’re more comfortable with if that’s the case. I can’t think of the terms beside partner or lover, but I’m sure there are others we can look into.”

“Nah. All those sound fine actually. We can be all of the above, including being best friends because no one is allowed to take that spot. Though, you wanna know what I would love you to use to refer to our awesome new relationship?”

“What? Dumbass and Smartass?”

“The Strongest.” 

Suguru felt the warmth in his chest bloom once more. Tears pricked at his eyes, but his smile was so wide his cheeks hurt. “You sure you want to share that title again?”

“Mhm~ It’s lonely at the top, ya’know? You’re the only other person who understands me and can actually stand besides me as an equal. You deserve the title. I won’t let anyone take it away from you.” Satoru felt his eyelids grow heavier and heavier. “I think I’m going to pass out at this point, so gimme a goodnight kiss.”

“We’ve been together officially for like ten minutes and you’re already that needy?”

“You love it though~”

“Yeah, I do.” Suguru kissed Satoru, fully intending on spoiling the other for the rest of time. A tiny hum came from Satoru as their lips met for the umpteenth time. Said happy hum that Satoru makes when kissed was now one of Suguru’s favorite sounds. 

“OH MY GOD.” 

Suguru jolted and parted from Satoru, adrenaline coursing through his veins. It seemed like Satoru’s warning of passing out wasn’t a joke, he was unconscious and didn’t react whatsoever to the loud noise. He looked towards the person who yelled and suddenly wanted to curl up and die. 

It was Shoko and Yaga. 

“When I told you to do magic, true love gay shit, I didn’t mean it literally!” Shoko crossed her arms with a huff. “So kissing sleeping beauty was what broke the spell, Mr. Loverboy?”

“Shoko, I am going to strangle you.” 

“With what arms?”

“...”

The girl cackled at Suguru’s lack of response. She went towards him and knelt by his side. Her demeanor turned softer. “He’s okay, right?”

Suguru nodded. “Yeah. He hasn’t eaten or slept in days, so his body probably had enough and forced him to rest.” 

“Good. He’ll need to take it easy for a while. His cursed energy is all over the place from the lack of food and sleep. Him hallucinating probably contributed to that too.” Shoko looked around the burning forest and whistled. Behind her, Yaga was commanding his army of cursed corpses to put out the fire, swearing like a sailor. “You two sure did a number on the forest. It’s going to take a while for it to grow back…And put it out. Got a firefighter curse?”

“...I actually do.” He ignored her laughs to summon a giant elephant curse. It had several trunks and stood on two dinosaur-like legs. Suguru had found it near an abandoned water canal, emptied out after several people drowned in one night. The curse had been apparently killing any person, mostly delinquents, who tried to explore the canal. He commanded the curse to spray geysers of water over the forest. Each trunk helped extinguish the flames even faster. 

Once the fire was fully extinguished, Yaga made his way to Suguru. He crossed his arms and glowered at them through his sunglasses. 

“You and Satoru will replant the forest as much as you can after you both are recuperated.”

“Anything else, sensei?”

“You and Satoru will have detention for a month.”

“WHAT?!

“HAH! HAVE FUN IN DETENTION, LOSER!”

“SHUT THE HELL UP, SHOKO!”

“You kids will be the death of me…”

.

.

.

TWO YEARS LATER

.

.

.

“Oi, Suguru!”

“Hm?”

“Have you seen Gumi? We’re playing hide and seek and I can’t find him for the life of me!”

“Nope!” The giggling head of spiky hair proved otherwise, but Suguru said nothing. Nanako and Mimiko, the girls Yaga found in a village two years ago, were brushing and braiding his hair as he lounged on a chair by the pool. His girls wouldn’t be here without Principal Yaga, who he now held a deep appreciation for. Back then, with Suguru, Nanami, and Satoru barred from doing missions until they recovered, Yaga had taken on the brunt of missions for them. When he came back one day with two, terrified girls, Suguru took it upon himself to take care of them, considering that Satoru had his hands full with Megumi and Tsumiki. It had taken a very long time for the girls to trust someone other than Suguru, but they had shown tremendous progress. While they were wary of all adults, the girls had warmed up to Satoru’s kids fairly quickly. The four of them bonded over having idiots adopt them, gossiping about how Suguru couldn’t cook to save his life or how Satoru couldn’t read them bedtime stories without laughing or pointing out the plot holes. According to Megumi, who was the youngest yet had the most… creative insults, Satoru and Suguru were ‘dumber than rocks because they can’t figure out how to make pancakes and I bet rocks can figure it out if they were alive and had hands, and rocks look cool while they look like old people’.

The kids were terrors, but Suguru and Satoru adored them nonetheless. Currently, they were at a beach house that Satoru had bought on a whim one day. It was grand and luxurious, but with too many hiding places for someone as adept at hiding as Megumi. He took hide-and-seek far too seriously, but it was worth it to see the smile on his normally grumpy face. Tsumiki was on his lap, painting Suguru’s nails a bright blue color, and he had no intentions of taking it off afterwards. 

“You sound suspicious…” Satoru placed a hand on his hip.

“Whatever do you mean, Satoru? I’m just relaxing with the girls.” Suguru replied with a mischievous smirk. “How long have you been searching?”

“Two hours and thirty one minutes.” 

Suguru barked out a laugh from Satoru’s dead-serious tone. He could see the beginnings of genuine anxiety form in Satoru, so he decided to give him a break. “That’s such a shame. I was planning on ordering from that place that sells ginger chicken meatball hotpot. I guess we’ll have to try cooking something her-”

“NO!” Megumi popped his head underneath Suguru’s lounge chair. “Get the ginger!”

Satoru never fully recovered from the cursed soul’s psychic attack. His nerves were always in a state of being shot and frazzled. While Satoru’s personality was still intact, he was much more prone to act irritable and impulsive. He was also forgetful over the simplest of things and would meltdown if someone didn’t help remind him. Suguru would need to talk with Megumi about perhaps easing up when it came to hide-and-seek, considering how disheveled Satoru looked. With a relieved sigh, Satoru walked over and plucked Megumi from his hiding spot. For once, Megumi didn’t try to kick Satoru, letting himself be held. Suguru guessed it was due to how perceptive the little boy was. He likely noticed how stressed out and panicked Satoru was. Visibly relaxing with Megumi in his arms, Satoru finally noticed the makeover the girls were giving Suguru. 

“Lookin’ good, Suguru!”

“Of course I look good. I have the best stylists in Japan.” Suguru replied easily. He felt his heart warm when he saw the proud smiles on Nanako and Mimiko’s faces. Tsumiki also shone like the sun with her grin, but she refused to take her focus away from Suguru’s nails. 

“Maybe I can get an appointment-”

Before Satoru could finish his sentence, he snapped his head to the sky and placed Megumi on the ground. “Get inside. Now. Stay in your rooms and don’t come out until one of us says so.”  His tone left no room for arguments or questions. Tsumiki, the eldest of the group, took Megumi’s hand and nodded at Satoru. She helped the twins to the house, giving the two a thumbs-up of reassurance. 

Suguru stood up from his chair, trying to see whatever Satoru was seeing. “What’s going on-”

Once again they were interrupted. 

An arrow the size of a person appeared from the sky. Satoru had activated his Infinity, preventing the arrow from falling. With far better control of his technique. Satoru carefully lowered the arrow until it was floating in his palm. When his Six-Eyes detected no hidden threats, Satoru allowed the arrow to make contact with his hand.

“What the hell is that?” Suguru stared at the object in awe. It was made entirely out of metal, covered in intricate carvings that looked to be handmade. 

There was a note attached. 

Satoru and Suguru glanced at each other. The arrow wasn’t to harm anyone, but send a message. It was quite the unorthodox way to do so. Satoru placed the arrow on the chair Suguru had been relaxing in. The note attached looked to be taken from an ancient scroll. It wasn’t made of paper but papyrus, a material that hadn’t been used in centuries.

The message itself was the oddest of all. 

GOJO SATORU AND GETOU SUGURU,

I AM SURE YOU REMEMBER OUR BRIEF MEETING IN SENDAI. OR HAVE AT LEAST HEARD OF MY REAPPEARANCE. REST ASSURED, I DO NOT ATTEND ON ATTACKING YOU SORCERERS, HOWEVER ANNOYING YOU CAN BE. 

THIS LETTER IS A SUMMONS OF SORTS. REFUSE TO COME, AND I WILL TAKE THAT AS A BLATANT INSULT. I’M NOT ASKING, BUT COMMANDING IT. THERE IS DISCUSSION TO BE HELD ABOUT A THREAT THAT IS ON THE HORIZON. WE HAVE A MUTUAL INTEREST IN PROTECTING WHAT IS OURS, SO I HOPE YOU CAN SEE HOW SERIOUS THE SITUATION IS. THE THREAT GROWS BY THE DAY AND I MUST ADMIT THAT MY MIGHT ALONE IS NOT ENOUGH. I AM NOT INTERESTED IN BATTLING OR GOING TO WAR. MY RESURRECTION WAS HIDDEN BECAUSE I DESIRED IT TO BE SO. MY DESIRE TO FIGHT HAS EBBED. I AM WILLING TO FORM A TRUCE OF SORTS. HOWEVER, MY MERCY WILL ONLY GO SO FAR. DO NOT CROSS ME AND I WILL NOT CROSS YOU. 

IN EIGHT YEARS TIME, A CURSE USER AND THEIR ENTOURAGE OF SPECIAL GRADE DISASTER CURSES WILL ARRIVE. THERE ARE DETAILS I WILL NOT DIVULGE IN. THERE IS RISK TO REVEALING SUCH INFORMATION, AND I WOULD BE A FOOL TO DESCRIBE EVERYTHING ALL AT ONCE. 

I WILL WAIT FOR ONE FORTNIGHT. COME WHEN THE SUN HAS FRESHLY RISEN. FAIL TO ARRIVE AFTER THIS TIME, AND I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN MYSELF. I ALSO EXPECT YOU NOT TO INFORM YOU PATHETIC ELDERS ABOUT THIS. THE ONLY OTHER PEOPLE I WILL ALLOW TO COME IS KENTO NANAMI AND IERI SHOKO. ANYONE ELSE WILL BE KILLED ON SIGHT. THIS IS YOUR ONLY WARNING. 

BELOW ARE THE DIRECTIONS TO THE MEETING SITE. 

DO NOT DISAPPOINT ME. 

“Sukuna wrote us a letter.” Suguru whispered. The memories of his third-year of high school came flooding back in. “Do you truly believe it's just a summons and not a hidden murder attempt?”

“No. He’s telling the truth.” Satoru said with such certainty that it caught Suguru off guard. He gripped the note in his hand, scanning the directions Sukuna had left. They were vague, but Satoru was familiar with the shrine Sukuna had mentioned. “We’ll have to ask Nanami or something to babysit for a day. I’ll request a day off for the both of us-”

“You are seriously considering going?”

“Duh. What? Are you scared~” 

“As if. Let’s meet the asshole.” 

“There’s nothing to worry about! Sukuna sounds like he retired from being a genocidal maniac. And we’re the strongest so he doesn’t stand a chance against us.”

“Yeah. We are the strongest.”

“Always will be.”

[troperrific]

@amoransia

Hi! I agree!! I do think Leah also cares immensely for Priest as a person; I think I generalized the Church side way too much on this post. I should've made it clearer, lol. Actually, while I was typing this reply, I thought that maybe she does care for him, but she'd still be capable of putting those feelings away for the greater good, but then I remembered how she was willing to give away the location of Asmodeus' purified wing in order to save -

Barbara, instead of focusing on exorcizing Beelzebub 🧐 So yeah, I think you're completely right!! Leah's more conflicted about it than Imuri is (since she's not human), so it's not as clear as Imuri's disagreement, if that makes sense?

Hope you don’t mind me answering this as a post, because I have waaaay too many thoughts about this.

So, when I was talking in the tags about who’s currently thinking about Priest as a person, it was more about inner reasoning and what takes priority rather than whether what they’ll have Priest do after.

Like, the inner reasoning that takes priority to the Witches and the Church as factions, regarding waking Priest up, is his role as a key piece in the grand scheme of the fate of the world. Essentially, it’s about what he symbolizes and what he can do rather than him as a person.

With Imuri, like you said, it’s about who he is specifically to her. Her beloved, the guy she’s in love with. It’s a personal reason, so she’s the one seeing him as a person.

It’s difficult to say what weights more in Leah’s mind, but the reason she presents to Imuri in chapter 70 so they can go get Priest together does explicitly mention that they should do so because a) it’s their responsibility that he reached such a point and b) she wants to talk and apologize to him. This sort of inner reasoning does make me think she’s still thinking of him more as a person than a soldier or a weapon or a symbol.

But whether she’d put her feelings aside for the greater good or choose to prioritize Priest as a person and friend is a more complicated matter.

First, because although the situation with Barbara does show Leah is willing to choose her loved ones over the world, it’s worth mentioning that Barbara is much closer and more important to Leah than Mr. Priest.

That nuance is important. This is also why Priest worries about Imuri first and then about other people more as the series progresses.

And second, well…

Because Leah has swayed between the two for pretty much the whole manga.

In a more ‘lower stakes’ way, but sure. One of the clearest examples is regarding her role in separating Imuri from Priest.

In a general sense, Leah sorta takes the middle way when it comes to her role as a “spy”. On one hand, she abides by the Church’s orders to spy on Imuri and Priest, and is often intruding on their dates or lurking nearby. On the other hand, she acts more like a chaperone than anything else, and still lets them interact plenty, because she sees how happy Priest is around Imuri, even if that’s technically detrimental to her mission in separating the two.

There’s a scene in… chapter 54, I think, where Leah and Barbara are at their hotel during the aftermath of Priest destroying the school, and despite Barbara questioning her, because they should be monitoring Imuri and Priest as per orders, Leah does not follow them to the remains of the school, allowing them that moment of privacy and intimacy and comfort, while she thinks about the way Priest relies on Imuri, emotionally speaking (and we do see how he needed that time alone with Imuri, to be comforted and vulnerable and forgiven. it’s doubtful he would have gotten that had Barbara and Leah followed them).

So here you have Leah prioritizing Priest as a person.

But back in Part 2, Leah did go against Priest’s wishes to respect other people’s privacy, going behind his back and doing her best to collect samples for DNA analysis from both Leviathan and Imuri on the basis of pure suspicion and try to hack Imuri’s phone and laptop.

An example of Leah prioritizing her duty to the Church and the greater good.

So Leah has not fully committed to either thing as of yet, in my opinion.

I have no idea what’s Leah going to do about this situation, or she’s ever going to pick a stance about Priest’s situation, but it’s worthy mentioning that there have been quite a few panels dedicated to her hesitation:

So who knows what her (possible) eventual decision will be.

Her caring about Priest aside, there are other factors that influence her hesitation between the two “choices”: the fact that she’s the only character who doesn’t really use ideological or philosophical arguments to justify herself, her dislike of overriding other people’s agency and even beliefs (to the point she’ll apologize to Barbara for not letting her die, and call it “stabbing her in the back”, because it denied Barbara’s own resolution), her lack of confidence in her own judgment, her belief that she (and thus her actions) is insignificant and inconsequential, her self-perceived debt to the Church (they not only saved her, but her actions caused a domino effect that killed 79 of their exorcists) and consequently, her submissiveness to her superior officers, her great sense of empathy (she’s always listening and watching others, trying to understand multiple sides and people), etc.

Leah is probably the only character who doesn’t implace her values onto Priest, nor does she want nor expects anything from him.

But her occasional passiveness also doesn’t help (though, admittedly, there’s very little she can do to actually help him).

Considering that this is the Sloth arc, I wonder if Leah will be pushed to make a decision (as uncertainty and inaction can sometimes fall under the sin of sloth)…

Sorry for rambling, this was such a long-winded way to say that I don’t know what Leah would choose.

But, regardless of what she chooses, she’d definitely see herself as a betrayer (be it because she chooses the world over her friend, or makes a decision that’d still hurt Priest and choose him over the world).

Thus her placement as the Judas to Mr. Priest’s Jesus in Part 2.

[hxney-lemcn]

The Guardian Angel — John Ward x angel! reader

summery: As a guardian angel, your top priority is to protect John Ward.

tw: Violence, Everything that happens in the depiction of the first time he exorcises Amy happens in this story :) So spoilers for chapter 3 lol.

a/n: Can you tell I just watched Girl From Nowhere with how I ended up writing Amy's character? I know people are going to want more, but I feel like it'll just end up like my demon! reader fic so...if I do do a part 2 it might veer away from how the game goes.

wc: 1.1k

Master List

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

A heavy weight filled my heart as John and Father Allred drove towards their next mission. The exorcism of a teen girl named Amy. 

Who was I? Not anyone important. I was a servant of God, sent to watch over one of his devout followers. A person whose role in life will be important, but also dangerous. That person was a priest named John Ward. 

John was a seemingly normal man. A catholic priest who was kind and truly faithful. A more rare occurrence than you may think. I’ve heard rumors of what was to come. How John’s faith will certainly be tested, and with this being his first exorcism, I’m going to have my worries. Of course I trust God, and what he has planned for us all, but getting to know John, it hurts to know that bad things are looming just around the corner.

This was a common problem I had. A guardian angel needs tough skin, since they are the closest to dealing with people. They need to protect their person, but not become attached. I couldn’t help but laugh at that as I seemed to have grown attached to each person I was tasked to look over. It always ended up in heartbreak, as since they were human, they would die eventually, but sometimes I’d see them in heaven, so it wasn’t all bad. 

I landed behind the two priests as they got out of the car. I stretched out my wings before closing them. I followed them as they entered the house. A foreboding feeling washed over me as I could sense a strong entity lay within. I followed them as they entered the basement, the dreadful feeling growing inside me. I frowned as the young girl was tied to the chair.

“Hello, Amy?” Father Allred called out. “Respice ad me, daemonium.” 

Amy looked up at that, “Hello, priest.” She started laughing as her gaze fell onto me. Which caused Father Allred to hold his crucifix up to her. It was always uncomfortable to be in the presence of a demon. I stood to the side, my duty only to protect John, not exorcize demons. 

“Don’t just stand there, Father Ward,” Father Allred exclaimed. “Get the book and recite the prayer of exorcism!” 

John nodded, quickly opening the bible and reciting the prayer. The demon was certainly taking damage, but her eyes never wavered from my figure. I stared back, hoping it understood what the consequences would be for even being on Earth. Although I’m sure it did, and I’m sure it didn’t care. Which is what made those creatures so deadly to deal with in the first place. 

Suddenly, Amy’s parents entered and I felt tense. This would be the perfect opportunity for the demon to create a distraction.

“Mother! Mother,” The demon cried out in Amy’s voice. 

“Get them out of here,” Father Allred commanded. “It will use the girl to afflict them!”

The demon started laughing as John led the parents away. It’s smile twisting as it noticed my dilemma. Do my job as a guardian angel and follow the person I’m meant to protect, leaving Father Allred alone, or stay and take a risk of my position. I looked down, quickly following after John. I clenched my fists, hoping God heard my prayers and understands my current situation. 

“It’s best that you stay here,” I heard John say as I entered the kitchen shortly after them. 

“That thing down there…” The father trailed off. “That’s not my daughter.”

“...I don’t know what to tell you,” John replied, looking solemn. “I need to go and assist Father Allred. Stay here and pray for Amy.” 

Once again, I followed John back down into the basement. I mentally prepared for the worst, the quiet of the basement unsettling. My heart dropped as my suspicions were confirmed. Father Allred laid arms out, representing an upside down cross from our perspective. Writing in blood on the floor read, ‘Take it, save her’. Father Allred’s crucifix lay a little below him. 

I kept my eye out as John took the situation in. My heart clenched as a frightened expression rested on his face. I wish I could reveal myself, give him some sort of comfort, but that’s against the rules. I watched solemnly as John picked up the cross, holding it tightly.

“Don’t worry, Amy,” John spoke out. “I’m coming.”

I kept close to John as he went back upstairs. The house was eerily quiet.

“Mr. and Mrs. Martin?” John asked. We continued to explore the house, finding Mr. Martin's glasses in front of their bedroom mirror. I watched cautiously as the reflection was not his own, but he didn’t seem to notice. 

“Hello?” John called out. Going upstairs, I felt an ominous energy coming from the attic. I licked my lips nervously. John went to enter, but I held him back. Stopping in his tracks, he looked around in confusion.

“Leave,” I whispered out. To John, it would sound like the wind whispering to him, but at this point I was desperate to stop him from continuing. Looking up the stairs, John’s face hardened into a look of determination and continued forward. I felt my heart skip a beat as I followed.

Amy stood in the center of the room.

“You’re here at last, priest,” She said. 

“Amy, let’s go back to the basement,” John tried to reason. 

“Non possum ire,” She responded. 

“Let’s go,” John continued. “You need to get better.”

“What about Merideth?” Amy asked. “Did she get better? You couldn’t save her, could you?”

“That’s enough…” John responded, her taunts seeming to get to him. 

“She’s here with me, you know,” Amy continued. 

“We’re doing this, here and now,” John said sternly.

“Oh?” She asked. “All by yourself? Go ahead, point your little stick at me.”

“Father Allred?” John called out, my heart breaking at the fact that he was alone…but I was here, and I won’t let that damn demon hurt him any more than it already has. “Mister Martin?”

“Nobody’s coming, priest,” Amy cackled. “And your feathered friend can only help so much.” 

I bristled as she mentioned me. I knew exactly what she was trying to do, but I won’t let her win. I didn’t miss the look of confusion that flashed across John’s face at her last statement, but he raised his cross without hesitation. Amy rushed at John, and I quickly put myself in front of John, taking the attack. 

I didn’t notice that I was now revealed as the demon put their hands around my throat. I fought back, trying to loosen its grip. John continued to hold his crucifix up, hurting the demon enough to make her stutter. I took that chance to flip us over.

I looked up at John, “Run!”

He hesitated, before stepping backwards and running out. Amy just laughed loudly, becoming limp under me. The sound of sirens rang outside, and I knew that this wasn’t going to end well for John.

[kourota]

DETAILS JJK 🔹fushiita 🔹4.6k words 🔹hurt/comfort 🔹character study 🔹megumi-centric 🔹late night conversations

Some people spend their lives wandering, searching for a purpose. Others are bound—to places, ideas, and stories. Most of the time, people cannot escape the maze.

But sometimes... sometimes, there is a chance where two people, one lost in a maze and the other tethered to a monster, for them to find each other and change their fates

OR: what if the boys had an honest conversation about itadori's death sentence?

There was something about moonless nights that made Megumi want to pry himself apart.

Perched on a roof that overlooked the vast expanse of a forest, shadows encompassing all his eyes could see as a chilly breeze nipped at his skin, he couldn’t help but let his thoughts wander. He thought about his past, the things that had hurt him, the things that had built him, and even though he’d been through this before, he couldn’t help running the same marathon, if only to find comfort in the familiarity of the path and escape the overwhelming terror of the unknown.

This night, Megumi contemplated his life.

He… he knew he wasn’t the nicest person in the neighbourhood.

The few instances he chose to spoke, his words were always laced with a sharpness, and he never really cushioned his thoughts with pleasantries and whatnot. He didn’t see the point. Direct communication was the only way to get things done, and he’d rather deal with the disdain from people than take part in the underhanded mind games some of the higher ups were so fond of playing.

He wasn’t an optimist like Tsumiki either. He didn’t believe that everybody was good, and neither did he give two damns about moral integrity or ‘purity of the soul’ as some people liked to claim, because he didn’t think he was above everyone else around him. He did what he wanted and wrote his own definition about what was right and wrong, not trusting anybody else to do it for him. He couldn’t trust them. Not when each character came with their own agenda, and Megumi was sick and tired of reading between the lines only to throw up when he figured out their twisted motives.

There were a lot of things about himself that painted him as the ‘edgy emo hot-topic wannabe’ that Kugisaki liked to call him. And maybe he would have minded the jab at his personality, but his experiences growing up had given him plenty of reality checks that had only solidified his priorities in life.

One, he’d keep his family safe.

Their footsteps thunder in the isolated alley, and Megumi quickly pulls Tsumiki into the dumpster. They hold their breaths as shouts pass by them, of dangerous people looking… to kidnap them, probably. Ten whole minutes of torturous silence, and Megumi finally deems it safe to climb out. His sister’s face is streaked with salt, but she holds a wobbly smile, clasping their hands together in a small celebration of victory that they could live a day longer.

Two, he’d kick the ass of anyone trying to pick on the defenceless.

The crack of his fist against the jaw of someone whose name he can’t remember, and he sends the last asshole rolling on the ground. It’s a cathartic sound, the perfect retribution for the earlier violence they’d inflicted on the junior by shoving her against the vending machine. Seven other bodies lie in a groaning heap on the dirty ground, and Megumi puts his foot on their presumed leader’s chest, threatening him with the familiar words that he’s long since learned by-heart.

And finally, he’d give back to the world by performing his duties as a sorcerer.

Gojo-sensei stands behind him, a genuine note of happiness and pride in his voice as he cheers on Megumi. The rancid blood of the exorcised curse feels like it might stain his hands forever, but he quickly forgets about it in favour of the sheer exhilaration and the drumming of his heart in his ears—Kuro and Shiro by his side. He’s done it. He’s finally exorcized a curse after years of watching Gojo-sensei do it. Megumi turns back, and he doesn’t know what kind of an expression he’s making, but his white-haired benefactor beams at him like he’s just solved world hunger.

Three principles that Megumi swore by. Three things he’d never compromise on. Three things committed to heart, a rock-solid foundation he could always fall back onto whenever things got out of hand. They were his raison d’etre. They kept him sane whenever it felt like the rest of his life felt stale and performative.

They were his unwavering truth in a world of spiderwebs built of thinly spun nooses and twisted, knotted, lies.

That was all he knew about the world. Apart from the occasional novel and trying out different ginger dishes, he didn’t really do anything else, neither did he care much for the other frivolous activities people liked to engage in. He was content with the way he lived and felt like there wasn’t really anything that could make him attached to the traditional notion of ‘living a life’.

At least, that was until he came along.

Condemned to death for the earnest crime of wanting to protect someone.

Just like that, Megumi was tossed into a limbo, because he no longer understood what he believed in anymore. He… he cared about justice. But at the same time, the dilemma that Itadori presented to him was something he could not solve, not when the boy’s entrance into his life triggered a chain reaction that had eventually led to him sitting on a rooftop, contemplating whether he could be a sorcerer and still remain true to his beliefs.

The first thing he’d heard about the boy was that he ran a hundred meters in five seconds. That alone should have tipped him off about the kind of tomfoolery that awaited him in the future, but he’d been blindsided by the mission—Megumi’s first mistake in retrospect. Perhaps if he’d broadened his expectations, he would have been able to foresee that… maybe he’d have been more prepared for…

Who was he kidding?

Itadori Yuuji. The fool. The lunatic. The simpleminded negative IQ shrimp salad, who’d chucked a rotten finger straight down his throat without batting an eye. Nothing in the world could have prepared him for that. Megumi… he prided himself on his spontaneity—a skill he’d harnessed from growing up with someone as obnoxious and impulsive as Gojo-sensei—but even that was rendered useless in his first encounter with Itadori.

Things only escalated from that point, and every single time, Megumi found himself caught off guard by the sheer ridiculousness of the boy’s antics. He’d encountered various characters in his life, but nothing could have prepared him for the chaotic maelstrom he was wrapped in; something that Itadori called ‘friendship’.

Megumi threw a rock at the boy’s head when he’d first heard him say that.

There was no way something so dangerous could be defined by a simple word called ‘friendship’. It was overwhelming, but at the same time, it wasn’t. Almost as if Itadori could somehow see the lines of Megumi’s boundaries, always toeing at it but never crossing, always pulling back just when things would have become ‘too much’. It was… frustrating, to say the least. The only person who’d even come close to understanding him at that level was probably Tsumiki, and even she’d had moments where she’d pushed too far.

The fact that Itadori, someone he’d only met a couple of months ago, could read him like an open book… it was terrifying.

At the same time, Megumi couldn’t bring himself to be mad at the boy.

Yes, the sheer number of movie references would have driven him mad, but all he wanted to do was add another line to the impressive tally he was keeping. Yes, the chaos was exhausting, but he only found it easier to go to sleep without a care in the world. Yes, he could no longer bask in the silence he loved, but he found that there was a strange sort of comfort that came with idle chatter that didn’t force the expectations of a response from him.

Missions became something to look forward to instead of an obligation to be performed. There was always something interesting happening whenever he was around Itadori (which was also Kugisaki’s fault because she was just as much of an agent of chaos as the boy was) and, well, Megumi wasn’t going to pretend that he didn’t feel safer when he was with company.

Safer.

“Fushiguro?”

Megumi yelped, almost losing balance and rolling off the roof before he was yanked backwards, onto something warm and steady.

“Whoa,” Itadori exclaimed, one hand on his back and the other pressed flat against his stomach. “Steady, dude!”

“I’m fine.”

He was, really. Even if he’d fallen, he would have just summoned Kuro and Shiro to nab him before he hit the ground. Maybe even Nue. The fact that Itadori didn’t seem to think of that, either because he’d forgotten or because he didn’t care, was… a pleasant feeling. He may be an idiot, but Megumi supposed that he was the most tolerable kind of idiot there was.

Megumi shifted back to where he was sitting after Itadori let go of him, and the boy ended up plopping down beside him, mirroring his posture in a way that reminded Megumi of baby chimps.

He was a little curious about why Itadori was up at this hour. It wasn’t uncommon for himself, considering his track record with nightmares, but his friend on the other hand slept like a log. One time, Kugisaki had stacked twenty different medical school textbooks onto the boy’s chest, and he hadn’t even woken up when the tower had collapsed onto his face, which was both ridiculous and impressive.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

“Hmm… not really. I mean—” the boy sighed, shoulders drooping as if he were carrying some invisible weight. “I did sleep. But then I had a stupid dream, and I woke up. Couldn’t fall back asleep after that.”

Megumi hummed.

‘So Itadori has nightmares too’.

Which made sense when he thought about it. After all, the boy held the most dangerous sorcerer inside of him, and it wasn’t too difficult to picture Sukuna trying to whittle away at Itadori’s sanity by inducing nightmares and all sorts of unwanted thoughts. It was remarkable, really, for Itadori to have survived this long, and it only spoke of the tremendous amount of mental strength the boy possessed.

Mental strength that was no more infallible than he was.

“Itadori—” he started, and broke off.

What was he even supposed to ask the boy? Whether he was alright? Whether he wanted to talk about his nightmares? Ask him if he was being haunted by bloodstains that refused to be washed away? Ask him if he was okay with the fact that so many people were actively wishing for his death? If he’d made peace with the fact that he was doomed from the day they met?

“Yeah? What’s up?”

It was almost too much to look at the boy. Megumi didn’t believe that people were pure, but there was something about Itadori that radiated warmth and kindness like nothing he’d ever seen. It was damning, knowing that this… that he’d one day go up in flames or an equally tortuous demise. That one day, that sparkle in his eyes would no longer shine, that radiant smile would draw a flat line, and that euphonious sound of his voice would only exist in the distant echoes of Megumi’s mind.

It was a cruel fate, one that Itadori was in no way deserving of.

‘Why,’ he wanted to ask, ‘did you swallow that finger? Why did you choose to protect your classmates? Why couldn’t you have just minded your business and lived your life, carefree? Why did you have to weasel your way into my life when there’s a ticking clock hanging ominously over your head?’

Why, Itadori Yuuji, did you have to be a good person?

But Megumi didn’t ask those questions. Not because it would offend or hurt Itadori, but because he already knew the answers. It was quite simple, really. Itadori wouldn’t be Itadori if he didn’t do those stupid things. He inhaled food, asked nonsensical questions, made movie references all the time, befriended random hooligans (Megumi seriously had no idea what the deal with Todo was), and never had a functional thought in his life.

Itadori was a good person, and that was his undoing.

“Hey,” a warm hand dropped on his shoulder, gently pulling Megumi till he was pressed against Itadori’s side. “It’s going to be okay. You don’t have to worry.”

Something about that reassurance struck a chord in him. Fragments of an idea came together, and Megumi grasped them with a desperation he couldn’t quite understand, but simply allow it to consume him.

Ridiculous.

It was all ridiculous. Itadori was the one hurting. Forced to shoulder a burden too heavy. Forced to become a means to a bitter end. Megumi couldn’t imagine being put in that situation and still having the strength to smile.

Frustrating.

If it wasn’t for Gojo-sensei, Itadori would be dead long ago. Megumi couldn’t have done shit about it. Helpless. Trapped. The cycle of loss repeats, and nothing’s ever really changed.

Unfair.

Everything about this situation was unfair. Killed, if not by the elders, by Sukuna. Itadori didn’t deserve to die. Not like this. Not so soon. Not when Megumi wanted to—not when there was so much more Itadori deserved to see.

And then—

Fire.

A scorching blaze as far as the eyes could see. Ashes scattered to the wind. A sharp crackling as everything he knows is eaten away, not a single thing remaining. He looks down, and he’s crumbling too. It doesn’t burn. It doesn’t hurt. Instead, it brings him peace—especially when he can see himself growing back from the ground, stronger, even as he turns to dust.

Megumi knew what he wanted to do. What he had to do.

“I want to burn the world down.”

Itadori’s body stiffened, but the tension soon melted away as the boy slumped back against him. When he felt shuddering, Megumi looked up in confusion at the boy only to find the back of Itadori’s hand pressed to his mouth, concealing a… laugh?

“Of all the things I was expecting you to say—pfft—that was nowhere on the list.”

Are you kidding me?

“Shut up,” Megumi grumbled, a familiar heat rising up to his face. “I was having a moment and you just laughed, you buffoon.”

“But you said it so seriously! If I didn’t know you, I’d think you were a serial arsonist.”

“Maybe I am. Maybe you don’t know me all that well.”

Even as he shot back that retort, mainly out of embarrassment than vitriol, Megumi could feel a deep sense of peace settle into his bones. Contentment, from finally knowing what to do. He’d been lost, stuck trying to force the new pieces of his life into the box he’d been handed when, in reality, there was no place for growth and living in that shackling prison. The rules that a sorcerer had to abide by… Megumi could no longer live by them anymore. Even if it meant that he’d have to break his third principle, he didn’t mind.

It had taken him a whole night of contemplation, but he’d finally understood what he had to do. Now, all that was left was Itadori, and whether he'd want the same thing as Megumi. He couldn’t force his wishes onto the boy, and if Itadori truly wanted to defeat Sukuna at the cost of his own life, then Megumi would… he’d respect his wishes. Even if it was hard. Even if it hurt. Even if it left wounds in him he could never quite recover from, he’d let Itadori do what he wanted.

“Why do you want to burn the world, though?” Itadori asked, and there was something about that tone that told Megumi that the boy no longer thought of this as a joke. The boy’s expression was still relaxed, but there was a look in his eyes, one that held the promise of understanding. “You don’t say things you don’t mean, so… why?”

Why? Oh, it was so simple, wasn’t it?

“If the world won’t allow you to live, I’d rather burn it to the ground.”

The words seemed to take flight the moment they left his lips. Although Megumi didn’t believe in wind spirits that fulfilled wishes like Kugisaki did, voicing his thoughts made them feel more real, like it might actually happen. Like a possibility, rather than a far-fetched daydream. And he meant it. Every word he said, he meant it.

Maybe he wouldn’t have gone this far for anybody else, but he’d grown fond of Itadori, and there was no way Megumi would let tragedy befall someone so undeserving of it. If the world was cruel, then he’d burn it and rebuild a new world that’s a lot kinder. He was sick and tired of losing the people in his life as they played a game that was rigged from the start. So he’d change things, and he’d protect them.

Starting with Itadori.

“Oh.”

Megumi looked up at the breathless tone of the word, only to see that Itadori’s face was flushed. Eyes wide, a hue to his cheeks that was visible even in the darkness of the moonless night, and his mouth a wobbly line that trembled… Megumi had never seen this expression on the boy.

Ba-dump.

Ba-dump.

Ba-dump.

He was no poet. He was no artist. But there was a sudden urge in him to engrave this moment into the world, if only to prove to himself that it was real. It felt like all the words and colours in the world wouldn’t be sufficient to describe the delicate bubble he was trapped in, holding his breath, warm all over despite the nipping cold wind, afraid to shatter it, afraid that a moment so… gentle… it would never come again.

Oblivious to Megumi’s internal turmoil, Itadori just made a strangled noise.

“Sorry, I just… that was actually kinda… uhm…” The boy turned even redder, immediately burying his face in his palms. An almost pitiful ‘that’s so not fair,’ was mumbled, but Megumi might have misheard it from the rush of blood to his own face.

He’d expected Itadori to understand the implications of his statement. He’d expected the boy to maybe argue and spew some nonsensical justification about how it is his duty to sacrifice himself so that the world could be a better place. He’d expected Itadori to maybe even laugh again and thank him, but…

Holy fuck.

“What should I even say?” Itadori whispered, still bashful.

Megumi blinked.

“…thank you?”

That earned him a slight huff, and the awkwardness dissipated, if only a little.

Before Megumi could say anything else, Itadori shuffled so that he was turned towards him, shook his head harshly and looked at him with that familiar determination.

“Thank you, Fushiguro.”

Now it was Megumi’s turn to feel bashful.

“I was only joking—”

“It’s not just this,” the boy interrupted him, and a rueful smile adorned his lips. “Thank you for everything else. For still being my friend even though I have this monster in me. For wanting to, well, burn your world down for me. Even though I know that my death is inevitable, it’s comforting to know that I’ll have you by my side until then.”

Itadori paused, as if contemplating something, before he sighed and continued.

“My grandpa told me that I should use my strength for good. And that when I die, I should be surrounded by people. So… it’s nice to know that I’ll be able to keep those promises. And I wouldn’t have been able to do it without you. My life…” the boy trailed off, fiddling with the hem of his hoodie. “It’s been fun, knowing you. I mean—yeah, it gets scary at times, but… I don’t really know how to explain this, but you, you brought more colours into my life, you know? Like, life was fun, but with you… you gave it more of a meaning. I mean—just looking at you gives me, well, uh… it gives me… peace.”

Peace?

A thick silence pervaded the air around them as Itadori seemed to search for the right words to use, his mouth opening and closing again and again, and all the while, he looked like he was shrinking into himself.

“Sometimes, I don’t feel human.” The confession was heavy, laced with a sort of haunting that didn’t fit into the image of the bright, smiling boy he’d known. And Megumi realized, with horror, that Itadori was, in no way, okay. “It doesn’t help that a lot of people treat me as a threat, and so many of them are… scared of me. I don’t want people to be scared of me. But you—you never treated me differently. You were there when Sukuna first took control of my body. I was a stranger to you, back then, and yet you asked Gojo-sensei to spare me. You wanted me to live, even though I could have killed you back then when we faced that special grade curse and I died temporarily.”

“I never had to ask you to not be scared of me, because you never were. And for that—” the boy’s voice cracked, and Megumi’s eyes widened at how glossy Itadori’s eyes became “—I can never thank you enough. No matter how loud Sukuna’s voice gets in my head, no matter how close I get to losing control… I feel safe knowing that even if I do turn for good, you will remember me for who I am, and not the monster I’d become.”

The tears rolled down the boy’s face, and Megumi’s own throat tightened up, the corners of his eyes prickling.

“I know—huff—it’s hard to watch me turn into him. I know—I know you probably get scared every time, but—sniff—this selfish part of me is so happy that you’ll remember me.”

The boy broke down, tumbling forward, and Megumi opened his arms to catch him. He too may have been crying, or maybe he wasn’t. he couldn’t feel a damn thing apart from Itadori’s trembling, and those heartbreaking sobs that made it impossible to breathe with the rock lodged in his throat.

“I’m so sorry, Fushiguro. But… thank you.”

Fuck.

All this while, Itadori had had so many things on his mind. All this while, he’d been worried that the monster in him would kill him—not just physically but his presence too. Megumi couldn’t even fathom the idea of his existence being overwritten so cruelly, to have his character ruined, to be remembered as a curse and having his death celebrated. A future where Itadori would be—

No.

No, he would never allow that.

“You’re not going to die.” Megumi’s voice cracked on the last word, but he was far beyond keeping appearances at this point. “I won’t let you die. I don’t care if we have to bend the fucking laws of sorcery or do something fucked up. I’m not letting you die. Not when you’re one of the few good things this world has to offer. You will be remembered as Itadori Yuuji, and damn it you will die as Itadori Yuuji and nothing else. I’m—I’m sure there’s a way. There has to be. If some fucker like Sukuna can split himself into his body parts and be resurrected, then there has to be a way to save you.”

Megumi hugged the boy closer, burying his face in those soft pink locks of hair that reminded him of Kuro and Shiro. Itadori was heavy, a lot heavier than him, but the weight was more reassuring than ever. He felt real this way, tangible, so strong and yet so fragile, and warmer than a summer afternoon.

He had no idea how long they spent like that, but he didn’t care. He’d hold Itadori for as long as the boy needed. He knew the weight of his words, and how they’d take time to digest. Especially for someone like Itadori. Luckily, Megumi had Tsumiki in his life to protect him when things got too suffocating. If not Tsumiki, then Gojo-sensei, who was a reliable presence despite his annoying tendencies.

So he waited. And until the boy was ready to accept his words, no matter how long it would take, he’d wait.

It was… surprisingly pleasant. Megumi didn’t particularly fancy being in prolonged contact with people (it was too weird and awkward because he never knew where to put his hands), but with Itadori, there was this ease. Perhaps his comfort was also because of the necessity of the situation, perhaps it was something else. Either way, Megumi found himself drifting into a lull, all his attention focused on the boy’s slow breathing and the occasional hiccup.

After a long bout of silence that could have been half an hour or two, Itadori spoke up.

“You… you really think there’s a chance?”

Megumi didn’t hesitate to reply, hoping that his conviction was clear.

“Yes.”

“But Sukuna—”

“—can be split back into those damn fingers of his and tossed into a volcano for all I care. That doesn’t matter. What matters is you, Itadori.” Megumi grabbed the boy’s face with his hands and tugged him so that he could look right into those eyes. He had no idea what he was searching for, but he knew that he’d find it. He trusted Itadori, trusted the boy’s spirit, trusted his words and his tears. So he asked the most important question of them all, “Do you want to live?”

A beat passed. Then another. Megumi could see how the resignation faded, and how slivers of a budding hope blossomed in the boy’s eyes.

“Yes,” the boy replied breathlessly, and then, “Yes. Yes, yes, yes. I want—can I? Can I really… can I really live?”

“Yes.”

This time, the embrace wasn’t as melancholic. The desperation still remained as they clung to each other, but the promise of a better future, of a happy ending… it came as a tangible relief that could be tasted in their tears, in their sighs, in the gentle drumbeats of their hearts synchronizing in the proximity.

Megumi knew he had his work cut out for him if he wanted to defy the fate that was written out for them. Sukuna was the most powerful sorcerer known, and they couldn’t just get rid of him so easily. However… he wasn’t alone. He had people—no. They had people on their side. Strong people. Kind people. People who cared about them, even if they were few in number. Megumi may never have allowed himself to rely on them for help… but this wasn’t just about him.

“I promise you that we’ll get through this alive. Together.”

“Together,” Itadori repeated, laughing softly as he sniffled.

This was about righting a wrong. This was about preventing a tragedy. This was about a boy he’d grown to care about so much, and Megumi had lost too many people to lose him too. This was about Itadori Yuuji, a boy who held the sun’s brightness in his smile and the its warmth in his arms. A boy whose only mistake was being born into a world that would bleed him dry of his kindness.

A boy who needed to be protected, for once, instead of the other way around.

Megumi vowed to do so. No matter what it took, no matter how hard the journey, no matter what sacrifices he’d have to make… he’d protect Itadori. And if his duties as a sorcerer prevented him from protecting Itadori…

Well, he supposed it was time to burn down his principles and then the world.

author's note: hi!! if you've read till here, please let me know what you think! honestly this was supposed to be totally fluffy but then itadori went and opened his heart to me so,,, haha. welp.

here's the fic on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55602283

thanks for reading <3

[tinytinyturttlesoup]

Me spit balling a turtles Demon pact Au

Same events as the Movie except instead of the Krang being aliens they actually are demonic forces. With abilities to make pacts with humans and such

The diverting event is that in order to escape the prison dimension Leo makes a pact with Krang prime to escape. But Leo being Leo he twists the pact enough to keep Krang prime on the other side of the gate.

Leo returns and for a while everything is fine until he starts to notice changes. And his priorities begin to shift.

It starts out small but little by little the rest of the fam start to catch on that Leo isn’t in control of himself anymore

they have to do a full exorcism to get the demon out of him cuz surprise that deal Leo thought he turned to his favor wasent as full proof and he got snatched by krang prime.

whole section where Draxum and Mikey basically are talking to a tied up krang possessed Leo

I’m thinking very 4 D chess type conversations

meanwhile Donnie and April and Casey are working to undo this whole pact and looking into loop holes n shit.

Raph is anxious the whole time cuz he feels useless and like he isn’t contributing enough to solve the issue. and also how he didn’t do enough to prevent this whole thing in the first place. So he eventually gets fed up and goes to talk to big mama.

and she’s like “I can help but for a price” and so Raph basically agrees to fight in the nexus in exchange for a magical dohicky that can temporarily suppress the Krang “think like Kyos spirit beads or smthin” ( it would be really cool if it was some scrap of the demon armor that big mama made into a ring or something idk.)

Leo is now freed of the Krang but is pissed that Raph had to basically “sell his soul” to big mama to do it. And while the ring dose suppress the possession he can still hear Krang prime from time to time. And prime decides to take a different approach.

he convinces leo to do things to help raph win more fights but get hurt ect. And once he earns enough good faith he convinces Leo that the only way out for raph is to kill big mama and is super adamant about it. And that if Leo let prime take hold for a little bit he could do it for Leo. Because then technically it wouldn’t be Leo killing her. He could excuse it as an accident.

leo eventually with enough pressure caves and all hell break loose. Me thinks the brothers all have to come together to get the krang outta leo. empyrean usage?? idk but Exorcist Mikey as a concept is cool so lets go with that.

and then they all live happily ever after....until the next wacky adventure.

[willel]

What was the point for Vecna to possess Will and use him as a spy in S2? And after it failed and the particles escaped Will’s body, he isn’t mad at him (or Joyce, or Nancy) in S3 nor tries to flay him? The S2 plot doesn’t really make sense to me after S4.

I don't think we have all the puzzle pieces yet. There is still plot to be revealed that I'm sure will slot into place.

Here's something to consider. Season 2 is an extension of season 1 moreso than Season 3 and 4. You can place a separator between season 2 and season 3.

In season 1, Will is rescued from the Upside Down while the Demogorgon is distracted and defeated. Based on what we've seen of the Demogorgon in previous seasons, it would have definitely attacked and killed Joyce and Hopper if not for Nancy and Jonathan's plan (and later, El killing the goons attracting it with their blood)

Will being rescued probably wasn't the plan.

We see in season 2 after (and even a little before to be honest), Will becomes a bit antagonist against Joyce specifically.

Will hates the lab pretty much right away. Is it because the boys have told him all about El and the lab from season 1? Maybe. is it because he's spent a year going for suspicious "check ups" and just doesn't like it? Maybe. Is it because he's subconsciously being influenced to hate it? Maybe.

Right after he's possessed, despite how absolutely traumatic it is, Will sits at that table and lies right to Joyce's face probably for hours.

At some point off screen, he makes her promise not to take him to the doctor. We all know how Joyce is. How bad off must Will have been to get her to promise not to take him to a doctor??? Would Will really not want to go to a doctor after that happened to him??

And then the antagonism really starts seeping in for Joyce. Refusing to get into the tub she made for him for example. Skipping ahead to after the burn, the absolute hostility seeping from his body when he wakes up again.

Yelling at her specifically to let him go when they tied him up in the shed. Again, just glaring at her specifically and barely paying attention to anyone else.

Then we get to the exorcism and the first opportunity he gets, he tries to choke Joyce to death. Doesn't care about his restraints or Jonathan anymore, just goes straight for Joyce's neck and refuses to let go.

Going into season 3, Joyce has 0 encounters with the Upside Down at all. But Nancy does. And we saw that Henry sent two people close to Nancy to kill her specifically.

When she and Jonathan are being chased by that blonde haired one, he says "We're here for you Nancy Drew."

As he approaches, he's only going for Nancy and attacks Jonathan when he tries to protect her. (of course, a second one appears to kill Jonathan too, but I think Nancy was the initial target)

Then we got season 4. Again, Joyce has very little direct contact with the Upside Down stuff. But once again, Nancy does. When all of them are escaping into the Upside Down, he could've attacked any of the teenagers. But he goes after Nancy specifically and chooses Nancy as his messenger.

So here's what I think the actual deal is here and why there is a separator between Season 1/2 and Season 3/4.

It's El. El, Henry's arch nemesis, fully revealed herself AND slammed a door in his face. AGAIN.

This would be the second time where she's personally slapped him in the face (she destroyed the Demogorgon in season 1, but she didn't close the gate). I think this particular event royally pissed him off and completely changed his strategy.

I'm sure he hates the entire party, Joyce, Nancy, Jonathan, Hopper, all of them. They are thorns in his side, sure. If he had the chance to easily kill Nancy and Joyce now I'm sure he would GLADLY take it.

BUT, his hatred towards them pales in comparison to his hatred toward El. He was SO insulted by what El did to him that Joyce and Nancy became an afterthought.

Leading up to season 4, I think getting rid of El became his top priority after opening the gates. As long as she exists, someone will be there to stop his grand plans.

So where does Will fit into this? Well, I think Will is the through line. I think Will was originally taken because he's special somehow and Henry wants to use him as a vessel. Maybe BECOME him. Maybe he can no longer exist in the real world due to his changed body, so Will is meant to be his "avatar".

He has failed twice to do this now. I think it's been made clear to him that as long as the others are around, ESPECIALLY EL, then it's pointless trying to take Will for himself. They will always figure out his plan too quickly. They will always know how to exorcise him.

If this theory is true and Will is still a target of Henry, then Henry has played his cards perfectly. He has completely taken all of their attention off of Will. He's become the third wheel in his whole life. The end of season 4 was probably meant to serve as a massive hint that Will was NEVER in the clear and him being ignored by Henry was only temporary.

The team will be going into season 4 STILL not questioning why Will was taken in the first place. STILL probably thinking it was all a coincidence and Will was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. STILL not questioning why the hell Will is connected to the Upside Down shenanigans.

I think if the team doesn't quickly realize how odd Will's disappearance and survival really was.... if El doesn't put together the pieces that it was truly ALLLLL Henry from the very start.... if Will himself doesn't decipher Henry's intentions and thought process regarding him.... then Will will be in danger.

Season 5 can really tie all 4 seasons back together, or "come full circle" as the Duffers have said.

[herearedragons]

More Kyana moments (and general thoughts) from Broken Circle and the resolution of Connor's quest:

You don't really get to hang out with your companions in the Fade during Lost In Dreams (they just disappear one you free them), but I think it'd be fun if there was one final stretch of the Fade the party had to brave together. You know, as a bonding experience.

Speaking of bonding experiences: the 'saving your companions from their nightmares' sequence is pretty intense for Kyana. She's barely keeping it together herself, but she still makes it her priority to get the others out. She's not exactly graceful about it, she's grabbing them by the shoulders and yelling at them that this isn't real, but her intensity is what makes them listen. It's a moment of sincerity that shows she really does care, and it's important for Wynne and Alistair, who know her well at this point, but it's probably wild for Zevran, who, again, has known her for two days. If giving him a pair of gloves to replace his ruined ones was a big deal, I can't imagine what goes through his head as the same person fights literal demons for his sake.

After the Fade sequence, there was the encounter with Cullen, which I didn't expect to be meaningful in any way, but... it kind of was? First of all, I'm pretty sure he only ever had a crush on Kyana because he never directly interacted with her. That's literally the only possible explanation. Kyana herself probably would have had... some sort of reaction to finding this out under any other circumstances, but there's just too much other stuff going on for her to care. Weirdly, though, I think this is the first and last moment when she's able to sympathize with Cullen. She just made it out of another demon's prison, and she almost lost it in there. She looks at Cullen and knows that this could have been her. She's not taking his ravings seriously, though.

I know that most of Kyana's and Irving's close relationship exists in my headcanon, but still, saving him and hearing him immediately go "Wynne, so that was your doing" was... interesting. I decided that I'm not retconning it, that's exactly what happens. Irving barely says anything to Kyana, except for saying that it's good she was there, and... it makes sense. She's no longer his project, he's no longer invested in her as a student, and if he still has any lingering attachment to her, he's not showing it. And I thought that maybe she'd show some vulnerability and be glad to see him, or she'd be angry at him, but she's just surprised and kind of numb at barely being acknowledged. She's been through literal hell and that's all she gets. Irving doesn't even ask if she's alright, not even after everything is over, just goes straight to business, discussing the treaties.

You know who does ask how she is? Wynne. You know who does show her some actual compassion? WYNNE. Part of it is definitely the fact that Wynne was in Ostagar and in the Fade with Kyana, and thus has a better idea of what she's been through, but also, she's just nicer than Irving, I guess. And in the first conversation Kyana has with her after they leave the Tower, Wynne: a) supports her decision to help Jowan escape, b) says that the Circle is proud of her for coming back to help. Not only is she praising Kyana, but she's praising her choices instead of her skills. That means a lot, and Kyana's voice probably gets a little choked up when she replies to Wynne, and she doesn't understand why. Their relationship just became a lot more meaningful and I am here for it.

Connor's exorcism went pretty smoothly, all things considered. I used persuasion to make the demon leave without a fight, because in my mind, Desire just sees this mage who just tore apart another demon's domain, harrowed and changed by the experience but absolutely ready to throw down again, and decides that the boy just isn't worth it.

The fun thing is, I saw the option to extort the demon for an extra skill point and I really wanted it. So I did it. That does not line up with Kyana's previous characterization, but I think it does fit into the narrative of her being different now. Pre-Fade imprisonment Kyana would never accept anything from a demon, but.. maybe she's just not that afraid of demons anymore. She still thinks that blood magic is a bad idea, but maybe being stranded in the Fade with a bunch of demons and single-handedly killing all of them left her kind of desensitized, and also absolutely terrifying to other demons, who can probably still smell Sloth's (and its lackeys') guts on her. So she sees Desire trying to politely excuse itself and goes "oh, you want to leave? sure, what will you give me?". It's their turn to be afraid and make deals for their freedom.

[ash-and-books]

Rating: 5/5

Book Blurb: Bestselling authors Cassandra Khaw and Richard Kadrey have teamed up to deliver a dark new story with magic, monsters, and mayhem, perfect for fans of Neil Gaiman and Joe Hill. Julie is a coked-up, burnt-out thirty-year-old whose only retirement plan is dying early. She’s been trying to establish herself in the NYC magic scene, and she’ll work the most gruesome gigs, exorcize the nastiest demons, and make deals with the cruelest gods to claw her way to the top. But nothing can prepare her for the toughest job yet: when her best friend, Sarah, shows up at her door in need of help. Keeping Sarah safe becomes top priority. Julie is desperate for a quick fix to break the dead-end grind and save her friend. But her power grab sets off a deadly chain of events that puts Sarah – and the entire world - directly in the path of annihilation. The first explosive adventure in the Carrion City Duology, The Dead Take the A Train fuses Cassandra Khaw’s cosmic horror and Richard Kadrey’s gritty fantasy into a full-throttle thrill ride straight into New York’s magical underbelly.

Review:

What would you do if your bestfriend/crush shows up asking for your help to stop her abusive ex... all the while your own evil ex has gotten you to accidentally unleash a monster who is killing people left and right.... its definitely going to be a long week. Julie is a coked-up, burnt out thirty year old who is barely making rent but her job is to basically exorcize the nastiest demons and make deals with gods to just make rent. Julie needs to make money to pay rent to her landlord and after being behind rent for so long that means she has to get a job from her very douchey ex who has done nothing but steal credit for her work and think he’s better than her. When she’s had enough and confronts him, he decides the best way to get back at her is to send her a fake demonic book only for her to end up summoning a “angel” who is actually so far from angelic and is bent on consuming human bodies. Then Julie’s best friend and crush. Sarah shoes up asking for help, Julie is willing to do anything, but things start to get really really out of hand and now its up to Julie to stop the demon she unleashed, save her friends, and finally maybe get the girl she’s been in love with since forever. This was such an amazing first book in the duology, it mixes magic with an urban settling and definitely is non stop action and fun. 

*Julie along with her landlord St Joan, her electronic god/friend Dead Air, and Sarah (her now gf) get rid of the demon and Sarah’s abusive ex Dan. Julie’s own evil ex, who works for a company that is owned by god creatures manages to escape, and make a deal with a parasite that will grant him powers by the end of the book while Billy (the bookstore owner who is cursed to have to sell every single book before he can even die) is now on the hunt for him because he stole a book and sold a fake one.*

*Thanks Netgalley and Tor Publishing Group, Tor Nightfire for sending me an arc in exchange for an honest review*

[manuscruentas]

Okay, I'm gonna stick this under a cut because no one wants to read it all on their dash probably. But if you aren't inclined to go digging for info about the current muses here, here's a quick and dirty list:

Peter Osborne - From the Exorcist TV show - ex-marine, nearly 60, came back from Kosovo with severe PTSD. He worked through it, now he's got a boat, and he works for Fish and Wildlife in Washington State. Gay. Will talk to you endlessly about birds.

Mouse - Also from The Exorcist. She used to be a nun. Then Marcus Keane showed up, she fell in love a little bit, wound up possessed for six months, and promptly quit the nun business. She's still a nun, kind of, she just .... kicked the habit. Literally. Also she's happy to commit murder if it means she also beats a demon. She has set things on fire. She can use a gun. She loves you, but she'll also kill you, sorry. (And no, we don't know her real name).

Cassandra - An OC! An Ex-Nun. The other nuns thought she was possessed and tried to do an exorcism. It didn't go well. She may have been left tied to a crucifix for several days. She wears gloves to cover the scars, is definitely not a nun anymore, and spends her time investigating shitty miracles and exorcisms gone wrong.

Josephine (Jo) - Another OC! A mutant with the worst ability ever. Or maybe it's just magic, we're unsure. Either way, poor Josephine somehow got stuck with the ability to cleanse you of your sins just by touching you. The trouble is, the worst your sins are - the heavier the cost to her. The physical manifestation appears like stigmata. Some sins just cause her hands to bleed, the small ones, anyway. Worse sins cause a full manifestation. She wears gloves to avoid contact with people as much as possible. She's also a cupcake, don't touch her.

Jonah - An OC again! And a werewolf. And a widower. He has three kids, Stella (6), Wyatt (12), and Alana (18). He's a homicide detective, and also he's tired. Will dad you.

Hearne - Another OC! A hunter. Was really, really, exceptionally good at his job. Was taught to hunt from a very young age. In fact: he can probably fight a werewolf bare handed, but he can't read very well, because his parents had terrible priorities. He would've kept hunting, except he stumbled on an abandoned werewolf pup, had a whole entire crisis, and now he's trying to parent and also make up for the fact that all he did for 35 + years was murder, basically. Might still throw you through a wall, depends on the day.

[libraryofcirclaria]

06 November 1281

Library of Circlaria

Third Level Society: First Version

Story Six: Meona Bell

After spending a night in one of the University jail cells, I am finally free. Regardless, I need to explain what happened.

It all started with my agenda to obtain information on whether or not Headmaster Lach was aware that Mary Kormann was Ceri Mains in disguise to begin with. No better way to do that than to have him awash with a little white wine, which I hear he is quite fond of. The only crux there was how to get in conversation with him in the first place.

In the meantime came an emerging priority: how to divide the Freedom Rangers so as to bring an end to the existence of the White Baroness, who, despite being a rare 4th generation daemon, has managed to expand her influence in a dangerous way. I tried to strike up a conversation with Derek Comb, but he really has no interest in "the wider dynamics." He only cares about his immediate surroundings.

So I gave up on Derek and thought of a plan myself: to have my avatar, Captain Bornan, disguise himself as a defector from the Galacian Chapters of the Freedom Rangers, of which there are many, and go to the Crescan Chapter leaders to convince them that the Galacian Chapters are conspiring to utilize the influence of the White Baroness to tip the balance of dynamics and bring not only the rest of the Freedom Rangers but the remainder of the Arturian Universe under their mighty grip.

Dishonest? Yes. Unethical? Yes. But then again, so is the influence of the White Baroness to begin with.

I will admit, I did feel a bit guilty. But when I brought the idea up to Sarah Marks, not only did she agree with my approach, she also volunteered to assist me. Her avatar now commands a significant company of hellspirits in Antemaersa on the Original World of Arturia and therefore has significant tools of disguise and form-fitting for my avatar. So we set to work.

While we were doing this, I realized something that could be done with Headmaster Lach: to get assistance from Daniel Carter. So I had to pull out of this White Baroness quest yet again. But Sarah was understanding; and we agreed to collectively cast a daemon version of Captain Bornan disguised as a Galacia runaway, implanting behavioral algorithms in this daemon and let our agenda run its course in my absence. Yes, that is dangerous. But Sarah agreed to keep an eye on things.

In the meantime, I met with Carter in the secrecy of my Guestroom, where I succeeded in leaving an impression on him that I was, though in my mind not genuinely, undecided on the matter of darkfire.

"I understand, Meona," Carter said. "It's a messy business, darkfire as a whole. I am confident, though, that this catch will make my official retirement. With that being said, Ivella has been stressing the importance of sanctuary treatment versus traditional treatment purge treatment for the ones with the Syndrome."

"Dyla has been referring to that as 'institutionalized exorcism,'" I said. And it was true. Dyla mentioned that in her shouting match with Kara Martins last month.

In fact, on the inside, I realize Dyla is right about that. Basically, it's been common practice here that when anyone at any age, be it adult or child, involuntarily conjures darkfire, they are taken to a psychiatrist and diagnosed with the Syndrome, and are then sent to an institution where they are exposed to harsh conditions so as to make the body sick and weary enough to suppress the darkfire conjurations. Many patients in these wards have died, warranting numerous debates over ethics.

The mainstream media seems to support Reonard Chaney in this, though I know that a growing number of people are sympathizing with Ceri Mains. Furthermore, Ivella's healthier option of creating a "safe space" for those with the Syndrome to come in and periodically conjure to get it out of their system is something I hope will catch on.

I mentioned aloud the approach that Ivella Ogden was making. And to my surprise, Carter voiced agreement. "Indeed I have come to find the traditional treatment inhumane, given that most of those with the Syndrome really are innocent and mean no harm," Carter said. "It's very interesting what Ivella is doing. And I see how her methods could work better. In fact, I may consider joining her in my retirement to see how her treatments pan out.

"However," Carter continued. "That leaves no excuse for what the cartels have done, including Finzi's allies both inside and outside of the Perimeter. Although I still believe that Ceri Mains is the only one who has managed to escape, there is no doubt in my mind that cartel leaders have passed communication between each other over the Perimeter wall. I've tracked numerous darkfire figures, big and small, over my tenure. And lately, I sense, though this is merely speculation, a growing network of collaboration for something big to come; Ceri Mains was but the beginning.

"Not to say, Meona, that Ceri Mains is a dangerous cartel leader that should be shown no mercy. I do believe, and very firmly, that justice is due to those who partook in this dark trade in a violent fashion. But I know now that our fear of Ceri Mains, the intensity of it anyway, was quite unfounded. She did simply want an education, no more than that.

"However, she did bypass legal boundaries, which makes me consider her to be, not dangerous or malicious, but rather reckless. Therefore, I hope that the Arbitrator and the Courts pass a decision to not punish her, but to contain her and observe her more closely than others. She has good intent, but we must protect the public." "Definitely a good compromise," I said, though what I did not tell Carter was that I believed that Ceri should walk free albeit seeking sanctuary treatment from Ivella.

"I'm sure this whole ordeal was quite the stressful situation for Headmaster Lach though. Perhaps we should call a private dinner, you, me, and him, for celebration to lift his spirits a little."

"Well," Carter said. "First of all, I had a rather large dinner already. Second of all, I doubt that the Headmaster would accept. He afterall is not only busy, but has avoided the subject of Ceri Mains every time I brought it up to him."

"It doesn't have to be a dinner then," I said. "Maybe a small drink and just talk about stuff not having to do with the University at all."

To that Carter agreed. So I typed up a ticker message to send to his Office. Both Carter and I signed the message. And to our surprise, Lach responded by inviting us over.

There was a small parlor-store in the lobby of the Guesthouse where I was able to buy a bottle of some of the richest white wine in the Western part of Circlaria, grown by grapes in the Chemko-Zyrtin valley region. I just knew that the Headmaster would gravitate toward that.

And when we finally met with them, we opened a bottle and shared a drink, starting with light matters completely unrelated to Ceri Mains and the University. During that time, I made sure to drink slowly, and no more than two drinks. I think Carter had two or three drinks. And the Headmaster had absolutely no cap on his amount of drinks.

Very soon, he got a bit loose-lipped and segued to what I was hoping to gain from all this. "Carter," the Headmaster said. "I know you some. But Meona, I know nothing about you yet. Why don't you tell me a little bit about your background..."

I started by telling about my personal past, my time as a Cabotton student, my time in Canticula, even my marriage to Sari Frame. Then my monologue flowed into my perspective concerning the turn of events surrounding Ceri Mains. Lach's apparent conversational boundaries on that were quite relaxed, and, to my delight, Carter filled in with telling his parts to the Ceri Mains ordeal.

At the end of it all, I could see Headmaster Lach's face quite red, and his speech quite slurred. So I ventured the most important question of all: "When were you first aware that Mary Kormann was Ceri Mains in disguise?"

"Oh that," Headmaster Lach said. "Ceri herself wrote me after the Internal Department denied her leave request. She asked me advice...and I told her...'just read some encyclopedias'...I was a little drunk when I said that...so...you know...I didn't want that coming up when I heard she was on campus."

"So you knew she was on Campus way before Campus Watch was aware?"

"Don't tell anyone...I was hoping this would blow over...and it did, for me anyways...as far as the public is concerned...it was a small detail I was unawares of...and that's what I hope it will stay as..."

So I did not exactly belt that out to the public, per say, with due respect to the University Headmaster. I did not go to the Flagstaff with something to gossip about. But I did manage to go through the hoops of the Perimeter boundaries and have a private telephone conversation with Ceri Mains. I asked her if it was true what the Headmaster said. And she said "yes," but advised me not to be too public about because of the dangers with the notorious Peter Crane and Kara Martins.

Needless to say, I kept this private. But I did have private ticker conversations with Dyla and Julian, to whom I told everything that happened that day.

Julian during that time filled me in on the outcome of the quest I planted to undo the Freedom Rangers and the White Baroness. Apparently, the Crescan and Galacian Chapters did end up fighting each other. However, things did get out of control, despite Sarah's efforts. And she had to get the Prefects involved. Furthermore, this upset Derek Comb toward me, so I resolved to make amends with him over a cup of coffee at the University Library on the next day.

Regardless, though, the White Baroness is no more.

What I did not know, however, was that with the treachery afoot, the private conversations I had with everyone were not as private as I had previously thought.

On the next day, in other words yesterday November 5, I received a ticker message from Dyla stating that Peter Crane had invited her into his dormitory in Norris House for what appeared to be a move of consolation but turned out to be a trick to force her into his personal bedroom for some unknown but dark deed. Honestly, at this point, I should have called the Campus Watch, but instead, I came into Peter's dormitory, whose door happened to be ajar, and confronted him with my talisman drawn.

"Release her!" I shouted.

But instead, Peter drew out his talisman and sent a spellfire discharge toward me. I dodged that and fired back. But just then, Peter threw another spell that sent me flying back out into the hallway. I ran to the nearest phone, at that time, and called Campus Watch. I went downstairs to the entrance to meet with them...and they arrested me, instead.

Apparently, between the time of the confrontation and the time I met them, Peter, himself, called the Campus Watch and said that I attacked unprovoked.

I will say that for an academic institution so committed toward progress and the rights of students, the jail cells in the basement of the Administration Building are quite brutal. One tiny open-aired window in a thick concrete wall was all I had to look outside. However, the doors and the walls between cells were open-aired toward each other and the aisle between the rows of cells, so that there was absolutely no privacy whatsoever. I was expected to spend up to a week here after which I would be handed over to Gentry County.

However, Daniel Carter paid me a visit, where I told him everything about the ticker message I received from Dyla. He and Dyla pulled some ropes with University Affairs, who then wiped clean any charges I had from this and released me just before noon.

Apparently, Carter had gone to University Affairs to pull ticker transcripts surrounding the message I had gotten from Dyla. Dyla was there, and said that she was not the one who sent the message, for she was in the town of Vale at that time. She showed a ticker message she had gotten from a supposed friend there who asked to meet with her. When she showed up to the residence in Vale, however, the house in question was empty.

University Affairs looked more closely at that ticker message and found that it came from one of the communication rooms in Norris House, where resided Peter Crane. Shortly after my release, University Affairs summoned Peter Crane to explain everything.

When Peter Crane showed up, he presented paperwork showing that he had an emotional breakdown from all the stress this year and that he had seen a mental health professional. He admitted that late on November 4, he had received a message from Kara Martins that she was told by Headmaster Lach, who I realize was still very intoxicated at the time, of the conversation having occurred between himself, Carter, and I. Peter then had one of his cronies, some person he would not identify but claimed who apparently had a hobby of collecting a variety of gadgets, to deploy a wiretapping machine he had in his possession and actually manage to spy on all the messages between myself, Dyla, and Julian later that night.

The said spy relayed everything back to Peter. Thus, Peter knew everything from Ceri Mains to even my plan with the Freedom Rangers. Thus, he and Kara came up with a theory that I was facilitating the continuance of Ceri Mains' agenda to infiltrate the Third Level Society through the dividing-up of the Freedom Rangers by using the Galacian Chapters as a tool to hijack the entire Arturian Realm with darkfire scripts. The second part of this speculation was that I would use all of this to cast Headmaster Lach in a bad light so as not only to sow division in the Society Caucus but also to weaken base morale in the entire University student body as well as their faith in the Campus Watch.

Both Kara and Peter knew that the theory was a long stretch from being proven legitimate; so they devised a set-up by sending an anonymous message to Dyla pretending to be that friend in Vale so that she would be absent to help give weight to the impression Peter successively gave me that Dyla had been kidnapped.

And thus the rest of the events played out.

I was expecting that even with the evidence Peter had saying that this had all been the manifest of a mental health break down, that the University Affairs Office would see through it and have Peter promptly expelled and even possibly prosecuted. But alas, to my surprise, they did not. Instead, they asked to meet again tomorrow and hear from the mental health counselor, herself.

In the meantime, numerous Members of the Society Caucus, though thankfully not the majority, actually believe the ridiculous story of conspiracy involving myself, despite Peter's admittance that he had this fabricated. Their reasoning is that Peter is being systematically silenced.

Therefore, I feel that it may be near my time to leave Cabotton and return to my normal life with Ceri. The only thing I am waiting on is the outcome of the meeting between Ceri Mains' representatives and the Arbitrator, which is scheduled to begin at 2:00 PM tomorrow.

<- 02 November 1281 <- || -> 07 November 1281 ->

[mamaneedsadrank]

Ring Rust is Real

Go ahead. Put anything, prompts the blank page starring at me. What am I going to put though? That's been the problem with me. I don't know what to put- or more so what I want to put. I have a gazillion ideas in my head, and am scared of them all. So as of late, I have turned into that skiddish cat that only comes out when they feel comfortable. Comfortable to trust, to feel safe, and loved.

WHO BROKE YOU!?

Dearest Homosapiens, I think life has broken me as of late. Now, I could indulge you in some pity party notes that may steer the direction of where this utter patheticness has taken me. Losing a job that was not fulfilling - but paid bills, losing a family member whom noone actually seems to miss, arguements about how to raise children, arguements about priorities, sick family memembers, and knowing that in less than 18 days you have to edure a surgery that will finalize not being able to create human life. And don't forget the opportunites and continuous oversight of moving further in a career you had thought you had always dreamed of.

It's taken a bit out of me. A bit is an understatement. So Alot. It's taken quite alot out of me. It feels like I am in a constant loop of this commercial, Dr. Strange Dormomu style:

I know. This isn't the Sam Bam Sparkle that you may have been expecting, but its honest, raw and truthful. Maybe writing it out has the sort of exorcism my body needs to rid all of it to help. The power of words compell you. Or something.

Anyways. That was a toughie and needed. Here's to moving forward and to keep fighting the good fight, as everyone has their own battles they are going through. You're tough and probably dealing with it with grace and less booze. Or more. Whatever. We are human. Cheers.