#and riko could only try and scare him

[chilledstrawberrysoda]

I think one of the most heartbreaking scenes in the kings men and possibly all of all for the game is when Neil and Kevin are arguing in the locker room after the win against UT because Neil was talking shit about the Ravens and Riko. I think it's the only time before Jackson and Romero come for him after the Belmont Binghamton game that the weight of what Neil knows is going to happen to him and the heartbreak he is experiencing in slow motion comes to the surface and is outwardly visible and even then the only person that picked up on it was Andrew and it didn't help because there was nothing anyone could do.

Kevin is angry about Neil antagonizing Riko publicly because he knows there will be backlash and he is rightfully afraid but this is the first time since Kevin found out who Neil is that he realizes Neil is afraid too. He appears fearless to Kevin so Kevin assumes it's hubris that makes Neil willing to stand his ground over and over again but it's not.

Neil had accepted his fate at that point, and instead of turning tail and getting himself the hell out of there, his only motivation is that if he can't have this at least Kevin will survive it.

At least Kevin gets to live on and play exy and be the best player.

When they talk about it again after Baltimore in the cabin Kevin asks him outright "how do you do it?" He asks "why aren't you afraid?" But Neil admits he IS afraid but he thinks willfully giving up the best thing that has ever happened to him (i.e. exy, the foxes, Andrew) would be worse than death.

There's a popular quote by choreographer Martha Graham that goes like this

A dancer dies twice — once when they stop dancing, and this first death is the more painful

This sentiment is echoed by Neil in the kings men but also implied throughout the series. Giving up the things and the people he loves would be more painful than his actual death. That's why he drops his duffle and phone when he is taken as a signal to Andrew and Kevin. He needs them to know; he did not run, he did not give up, he did not leave them willingly. He accepted death to protect them but his last act before he let go of Neil Josten was to let them know in the only way he could that he would have held on forever if he were given the chance.

Neil's action throughout the books start to shift Kevin's mindset. Neil tells Kevin he stayed for him. Before Neil and Andrew's not nothing ever began, Neil stayed because he believed in Kevin and he wants so badly for Kevin to try. Because before Neil literally came back from the dead after Baltimore, the only thing he could hope was that after the dust settles Kevin would be on top. The first time Kevin gets any hint at that is in that locker room in Texas. I would love to read this scene from Kevin's perspective. As soon as he realizes how desperate Neil is, he stops fighting him. I think it might be the first time Kevin sees Neil as the scared kid he is and not just the partner that is willing to put himself in the line of fire for others.

I feel like that scene is always read as just Neil being kinda mean and calling Kevin a coward again but it's so complex and I wish it went on for longer. It's one of the few insights we get into Neil's crumbling psyche as his demise approaches and one of the few times he is fully honest with anyone before Baltimore and it's just so important to how his character is viewed for the remainder of the novel.

[nizhspo]

lover, you should've come over.

chapter eight: it’s never over

m.list

pairing: toji zen'in x f!reader

synopsis: you were a nurse with a steady hand and a soft heart. he was a killer who kept coming back with blood on his shirt and your name in his mouth.

toji feels it in his spine. in the marrow of his bones, like something dying slow inside him, twitching as it’s eaten alive.

he’s never felt like this. not when he was sixteen and bleeding in the zen’in compound, back split open from “discipline.” not when they threw him out and called it mercy. not even when he let himself stop wanting anything, thinking that would make the needing go away.

but this—this is worse.

because you were the only softness he ever had.

not comfort. not convenience. softness. warmth. you cooked for him. cursed him out when he left blood on your floors. peeled his clothes off like you weren’t scared of what you’d find underneath. patched him up, not because you liked what he did, but because you cared anyway. you didn’t just know his scars, you learned them. memorized them. pressed kisses to the worst ones.

and he took that softness and fucking ruined it.

every breath feels sharp now, like his own ribs are stabbing inward. he tries to sleep, but your voice keeps echoing in his skull. that cracked whisper. that “she was a child, toji,” like you couldn’t even believe him anymore. like you were mourning someone already dead.

he’s not even sure if it’s her death you were mourning. or the death of what you thought he was.

he thinks about knocking again. does, actually—just once. soft. his hoodie is soaked in rain, blood on his hands not even his this time, and something in his chest throbbing like it’s about to give out.

he hears you move. heard you bedroom door creak, then click. locked.

he doesn’t break in. not this time. he can’t. he just stares at your door like it might open if he wishes hard enough. like he could explain this. like he could fix it. but it doesn’t.

so he walks away, fists clenched, shoulders tight. and his heart dragging behind him like dead weight.

he still kills, still takes jobs. but all he does is gamble the money away, and even that rush doesn’t feel good anymore.

not when he remembers the look on your face. not when he remembers how your voice cracked, how your shoulders curled in like you were trying to hold your own heart together, how you looked at him like he was something monstrous, not because of the blood, or the body count, but because he made you believe he was more than that. because he made you feel safe, and then ripped that safety out from under you.

he can’t stop thinking about you. your scrubs. your kitchen. your hands. your breath on his skin.

he thinks maybe the money wasn’t worth it. maybe you were right. he was going to gamble it away anyway.

he knows gojo’s out there now. alive. pissed. he’s waiting for it: the confrontation. the retribution.

he’s not sure he’ll win this time, and he thinks maybe he doesn’t deserve to.

…

at the hospital, it never quite gets quiet again.

gojo heals, of course, the freak of nature that he is.

he limps less each day. flirts in that annoying, forced way, like he’s trying to pretend things are normal.

but suguru—he doesn’t bounce back as easily. he’s quieter now. colder. the kind of grief that sits under the skin.

you try to help. you always do. you tend to their wounds with trembling fingers, but your heart feels wrong in your chest. off-balance. complicit.

you feel naïve. feel stupid. feel so, so hurt.

you think about riko a lot. you think about the way you smiled when you ate lunch the day before everything broke. the way you kissed toji’s cheek while soup bubbled on the stove.

and you feel sick.

…

one night, you’re on shift in the cursed ward. graveyard hours.

it’s quiet at first, just you and the machines humming low.

then a noise down the hall.

you turn, frowning, and the cursed energy hits you second. dense. roiling. dark. like a storm you didn't know was coming. like gravity reversing, your stomach lurching, skin tightening, something primal in you whispering danger.

and when you look down the hall, suguru geto's there.

he's standing at the far end, framed in the cold fluorescent light, bare feet planted on the tile. his hospital gown hangs lopsided off one shoulder, stained with blood at the side, where it's soaked through the pale cotton in maroon smears. the tie at his waist has come undone, dragging behind him, and the thin fabric clings to his body with a wetness that's more sweat than water, clinging in patches to his chest and stomach.

his left arm is coated in blood. it runs down from the crook of his arm in jagged rivers from where his IV has presumably been ripped out. his fingers twitch. every few seconds, they clench.

and the cursed energy bleeding off him is awful. it coils in the air like something alive, something feral, pressing against the walls, crawling up your spine. it doesn't feel like suguru. not the one you've spoken to. not the one who came in with a cracked rib months ago and made dry jokes between pain meds.

“geto?” you whisper, taking a few steps forward. “hey. are you okay?”

he doesn’t look up, just murmurs under his breath. words you can’t quite catch. until you do.

“she was a first year,” he says, soft. “an orphan. she didn’t want to die.”

your heart skips.

no. not skips—drops. violently. like it slipped through your ribs and shattered at your feet. you stop walking. because you know exactly who he’s talking about.

“geto—”

“she wasn’t ready,” he says, louder now. “she didn’t even get the chance to become anything yet. and they sent her to die anyway.”

his cursed energy lashes again. it scrapes across the air like barbed wire, sharp, vengeful, crawling under your skin. your gut twists in response. guilt. grief. fear. it’s cold and ancient and furious, like a thousand teeth gnashing in the dark.

and then curses start to appear. crawling out of the cracks in the tile like maggots from a corpse. slick-bodied, smoke-skinned things that slither and twitch and weep without sound. one drags itself up his ankle, tendrils writhing. another peels its way out of the shadows behind him, spindly and starved, jaws gaping.

they shudder when he moves. jerk when he breathes. they’re not just reacting to him. they belong to him.

you take a step back, bile rising in your throat.

these aren’t the kind of curses you’re used to. not the ones your patients survive. these are born of hate. of pain so thick and festering it drips off the walls. one of them snaps its head toward you, eyes too human, smile too wide.

“i’m not—” you start, throat tight. “i’m not like that. i didn’t—”

“but you loved him.”

his voice doesn’t rise. doesn’t crack. just cuts, and your breath stops. your blood runs cold.

he looks up. his eyes aren’t furious. they’re not even accusing. they’re just gone, hollow. like something inside him has already bled out.

“you loved him,” he says again, quieter this time. “the man who killed her.”

you’re frozen.

because how does he know? how could he know about toji?

your stomach flips, clenches, threatens to cave in on itself. the hallway spins for a second and the taste in your mouth turns metallic. because this is your worst fear solidified, spoken aloud, pressed to your throat like a blade.

“i didn’t know,” you whisper. and it’s true. but also, somehow, you feel like it isn’t.

because you did know. not about riko. not then. but you knew what toji was. what he was capable of. what he’d done.

“i didn’t, please—”

but the words feel stupid. thin. like paper trying to hold back a flood.

but it doesn’t matter.

you can see it in the way he steps forward. in the curse pulsing behind his shoulder. in the way your hands tremble when you reach for your staff badge.

it happens fast. too fast.

a curse rips from the air behind him, something he’s swallowed before, something bloated and twisted, and slams into you with the force of a wrecking ball.

you feel it. you feel everything, unfortunately.

the impact hits first in your spine, then your skull, and the wall behind you gives a hollow crack that vibrates through your bones.

your vision flashes white. the world tilts sideways. your knees buckle when you hit the floor, but you barely feel them. it’s like your whole body is ringing.

your ribs shatter. your lungs seize. your head spins, and your throat fills with blood, and you can’t breathe. you try so hard to breathe, but nothing. just a sharp, iron taste on your tongue and a high whine in your ears.

he steps closer. places a hand on your chest. looks almost sorry. “this isn’t your fault,” he says. “this is just how it has to be.”

your vision flickers, and there’s warmth spreading down your stomach, slow at first, then thick and wet, soaking through your scrubs like spilled tea. you blink. once. twice. the hallway swims. your knees don’t hold. the floor doesn’t catch you gently.

you think about your apartment. the chipped paint by the door. the smell of instant miso on the stove. the dent in your couch from all the nights he fell asleep there first.

you think about toji.

his voice in the dark. his back turned to you at the window. the way he once said, low and tired, “you don’t have to keep fixing people who won’t change— but we’re both too far gone for that, aren’t we?”

back then you didn’t know how to answer that, because even then, you knew. you knew he might be right, and he was. because now the world tilts. your blood pools. your fingertips twitch, sticky against the linoleum.

when the cursed energy finally lifts, the air feels thinner. but not lighter. not better.

and suguru—you don’t even see him leave.

you just hear your own breathing, shallow and ragged and wrong. each inhale tighter than the last. a whistle in your chest. a burn in your throat.

your arms don’t move. your vision darkens at the edges.

and then it fades altogether.

…

when toji wakes up, the TV isn’t on horse racing.

that’s the first thing that doesn’t sit right.

he’s still in yesterday’s clothes, a shirt clinging to him with dried blood, shoulder stiff from the fight, fingers aching from how tight he’d gripped the blade. he hasn’t even showered. hadn’t meant to fall asleep at all, but the couch took him under. the silence woke him. not the buzz of odds being calculated or announcers shouting through static. just silence. static. news.

tokyo: 112 dead in rural village.

he sits up slow. blinks. his eyes sting.

tokyo general nurse found murdered in closed off ward.

the world shifts. something inside him jerks sideways.

and then: your face.

your fucking face on the screen. smiling. the photo you took for your badge, hair pulled back. a soft, hopeful thing in your eyes. you took it long before you met him, but you always complained to him about how you hated how wide your smile was in it. he told you to shut up, you looked fine.

his heart doesn’t drop to his stomach—it shatters. shards of guilt, shock, disbelief pierce straight through his ribs. he stands. too fast. knees almost buckle. the room tilts. he stumbles forward, closer to the tv.

“nurse identified as age 26.”

he barely hears the rest. something about a patient on a rampage. a man in black. your unexplained wounds and slow death. how your wounds matched those of the village hit. mass destruction.

it blurs.

all toji can see is your face. all he can think is no. no, not her. anyone but her.

because you were supposed to be the one good thing he kept. the one thing untouched by all the fucked-up shit he’s done. and now you’re gone.

gone because of him.

and he knows it. fuck, he knows it. the second the curse settled in his gut like bile, he knew something was gonna rot. he just thought it’d be him—not you.

he sinks to the floor, but doesn’t cry.

not because he doesn’t want to, but because his body won’t let him. it’s like something’s frozen in him. hollowed out. not even grief knows how to move through what’s left.

his hand clenches the remote so hard it snaps in half.

he should’ve come over. should’ve knocked again. begged. gotten on his knees. should’ve tried harder. should’ve changed.

but he didn’t.

because he thought he could be what he was and still keep you. he thought he could have blood on his hands and you in his bed. thought you’d always be there to wipe it clean.

and now he’s got nothing.

you were it. your laughter in the kitchen. your lips on his scars. the ghost of your touch under his jaw. your smile in the dark.

and now you’re in the ground.

some fucking funeral, probably. some parade of mourners stepping through puddles and whispering about the tragedy of it all. but none of them know what it meant. none of them know what he lost.

he doesn’t even know how to say it, but it sits in him. splits him down the middle.

so, he burns. packs his weapons, cleans his blade, doesn’t look at himself in the mirror.

and when he walks to jujutsu high, it isn’t for redemption. it’s not even for revenge. it’s just because he doesn’t want to keep walking this world without you in it.

he doesn’t get to kill suguru geto.

gojo finds him first.

white hair, blue eyes, god in human skin. and toji smiles, just a little, because yeah. of course. this is how it ends.

“any last words?” gojo asks.

his mouth is filled with blood. throat crushed. ribs caving in. he can barely speak. but in his mind—

he sees your hand reaching for him in sleep. feels your thumb brush over his scar. hears your voice call him by name like it meant something.

he wants to say your name. wants to say i’m sorry.

but he just closes his eyes, because he knows there’s no you on the other side. no soft light, no reaching hand, no warm laugh echoing down the hallway of whatever comes next.

if there’s an afterlife—and he’s not sure there is, people like you don’t end up in the same place as people like him. you, with your clean hands and bleeding heart. him, with all that red on his ledger, so deep it’s stained the marrow.

he knows what he’s done. knows what it means. knows this is the only ending that ever made sense.

and he wishes, more than anything, that he’d been better. not to be saved. just so he could’ve deserved you. just so there could’ve been a world where you met again. but not like this. not like this.

he made a good thing go wrong. and that’s the last thing he’ll ever be sure of.

[depresssant]

'geto would burn in the fiery sea of hell if it meant only he would be the one thing your heart-stopping eyes could see'

warning!!!! : yandere is a warning in itself 💀, yandere!geto, unrequited love, kidnapping extremely suggestive themes, idk what else 😭

also reposted bc i accidenly deleted the first one 😬

to say that geto suguru was helpless was an understatement.

he was at a lost, and it felt like the entire world was against him. so many conflicting thoughts battled with him day by day, and time came to a stop the second he watched that bullet go through riko's head. that helpless feeling of not being able to save what was dear to you... to be able to not do anything except for watch as something slipped out of his grasp⏤he felt like it was happening all over again.

dark thoughts⏤ones that only you seemed to get rid of⏤dropping him over the edge plagued him like a disease with every twist and turn. these were the dark thoughts that only you washed away with your warm touch and loving smile.

but now?

now you were cold and hostile.

all because of a damn rejection.

geto knew his decade long friendship with you would never be the same after that fateful night you confessed to him. that night⏤just a week and a half after riko's death. he had rejected you. geto was scared. what if you died just like riko? you were a sorcerer with threats that had you walking across the line of life and death. what if you, too, withered from his grasp? 

but he supposed you already did.

bit by bit, you had started to ignore him. you were clearly distancing yourself. you knew he was going through internal struggles, and while you once would've been there right by his side, you weren't this time. you just... stop talking to him, acting like he was the plague, and a single look would kill you.

it killed him.

it killed geto to see you hurting because of him, and it hurt even more that he wasn't able to help. the raven haired man was bitter and angry at the time. he should've understood that you were just trying to give him space after realizing your confession wasn't thrown in at the best time. you were trying to help him in the best way possible while hurting yourself, and he was too fucking stupid to realize it.

geto had stormed into your dorm for an explanation as to why you were ignoring him. the worst fight of his life occurred that very night where you told him you never wanted to see him again. so he had granted you your wish.

thinking back at it, both of you were hurting. riko's death and the following had affected you just as much as it had affected geto, but he was too selfish to realize he wasn't alone. he was too conceited to realize that even when keeping your distance from him, you were still there for him. he was just too proud to reach out.

...

well... that would never happen again.

he furrowed his brows but he said nothing as he watched you struggle against the chains with a look of panic on your beautiful, beautiful, face. geto had plenty of time to reflect on his behavior⏤to sort through his feelings and plan, and now you were finally back in his arms.

with a sigh of relief, said arms pulled you into a suffocating hug. he held you so tightly he felt like his arms would cramp up, but that didn't matter. all he wanted to do was just crawl into your skin, become one with you, so you two would never apart again. he wanted to kiss those pretty lips of yours until his own became bruised and swollen. he wanted to hold you like this for the rest of eternity because the sound of your heartbeat was the best type of music he had ever listened to.

this was wrong, some part in him screamed. holding you captive like this just for himself was immoral and evil, but... all for himself? geto would burn in the fiery sea of hell if it meant only he would be the one thing your heart-stopping eyes could see. those eyes... those eyes pulled him in like a moth to a flame, turning him into a person he never thought he'd become. but perhaps that was one of the million things he loved about you.

"what the fuck do you think you're doing?" you hissed, pressed up against him, and geto felt completed. "you're insane! how the hell do you... do you⏤"

"i love you."

his hands were all over your body frantically, leaving a blazing trail of fire in every place that he caressed, and it was like he was trying to become one with you.

"... geto... what is this? why are you doing this?"

lavender eyes as alluring as a violent ocean rested on yours. "it's a form of acceptance. your confession? darling, i accept your love. i want your love... i need it."

"that was in high school! it was just a silly crush!" your brows furrowed in anger at first, but your expression crumbled. a face that you once adored now looked down at you with stinging eyes, fangs out and all. 

"don't lie to me." geto grabbed a hold of your inner thighs, pushing you down onto the bed and nuzzling into your neck as if he would die if he didn't. you'd be lying if you said that you didn't like it. it was something you had been waiting for, for a very long time.

"we're meant for each other. you just need a little help understanding it."

his hold you was like a snake wrapping around its prey, constricting like a suffocating pillow until said prey finally fell limp. you were the prey and geto was the snake.. and, well...

he was threatening to swallow you whole.

[silkscream]

CHAPTER 14: HALF RETURN

ੈ✩ gojo satoru x reader

He can’t complain about being touch-starved. Not when he has two kids who were alone for God knows how long.

ੈ✩ chapter cw/tags: graphic depictions of cursed spirits? blood. angst and such

ੈ✩ wc: 6.7k

ੈ✩ a/n: heres a fat chapter for yall you can stop complaining now

playlist ✸ read on ao3 ✸ series masterlist

August, 2009

Gojo Satoru has never felt this powerful before. It should scare him, but his veins are surging with something above human. Gold-lined arteries as bright as the sun above him. The air crackles with energy around him, a visible distortion that warps reality itself. Satoru flexes his fingers, marveling at how the world seems to bend to his will. He can feel every particle, every atom, dancing at his command. He understands now why people would compare him to a God.

He is a fucking God. Nothing could kill him. Nothing could touch him.

He’d woken up in his own blood. Now, he stares, half-mad at the man bleeding in front of him.

“Any last words?”

Fushiguro Toji blinks back at him as if he’d just noticed the boy’s presence. Ah, a boy. Barely twenty with the world in his hands. When Toji was twenty, he was getting lashed by the Zenin elders. He doesn’t have it in him right now to feel bitter. He remembers his own boy, how he shares his eyes, his mean mug.

Blessing, he’d named him.

“In two or three years, my kid will be sold off to the Zenin clan,” Toji drawls.

Satoru raises a brow.

“Do with that what you will.”

There’s a hint of a smirk on his face, Satoru notices. The smallest bend of the scar adorning his mouth. Who smiles at their executioner?

Fushiguro Toji drops to the ground. Satoru only hears the buzz of cicadas and the thumping of his own heart.

Satoru stares at the fallen body, his mind reeling. The power coursing through him begins to ebb, replaced by a creeping unease. He'd expected satisfaction. Vindication. A cussing out, at least. Instead, he feels hollow.

He kneels beside the man’s body, searching for answers in his lifeless face. It’s as if Fushiguro’s face has a permanent hint of a smirk. Either that or Satoru imagines the final act of defiance. Satoru's eyes remain fixed on Toji's lifeless form, his final words echoing in his mind. A child. Sold to the Zenin clan. The implications slowly sink in, piercing through the haze of his newfound power.

"Fuck," he mutters, running a hand through his white hair.

The cicadas continue their relentless chorus, indifferent to the life just extinguished. Satoru's gaze drifts to the horizon, where the sun hangs low, painting the sky in hues of orange and red. It reminds him of Suguru, of Riko. Of you. Of promises made and broken.

He closes his eyes, trying to steady his breathing. When he opens them again, resolve hardens his features. He may be a god among men, but he's not above the weight of consequence. Not anymore.

He takes a step back, suddenly aware of the blood on his hands, on his clothes. The metallic scent fills his nostrils, making him nauseous. The world that had bent to his will moments ago now feels oppressively still.

The sun beats down mercilessly, and Satoru realizes he's been standing there for far too long. He needs to move, to report, to do something. But the thought of Toji's child nags at him, an irritating itch he can't scratch.

The summer heat presses down on the boy-god, suffocatingly so. He stands, wiping blood from his hands onto his slacks. The divine feeling from moments ago is distant now. Only human uncertainty lingers.

__

Satoru has dreams about the human with the scar splitting the side of his lip. It’s always the same — Fushiguro’s final words, his entire side blown to bits from Satoru’s hand. Satoru feels nothing until the man speaks. He always says something different, but it’s more or less the same.

– Any last words?

– Last words? Kid, I've been dead since the day I was born.

– You don't get it, do you? I could unmake you without a thought. I could rewrite reality itself.

– You really are a cocky bastard. What would that prove, huh? That you’re special? 

Toji coughs blood onto the ground. It’s a wet, rattling sound.

– I used to envy power like yours. Now I know that I was better off a monkey. Power like that curses you. It’ll eat you alive, boy.

– I was born this way.

– Take some advice from a dead man walking, then.  Don't let that power define you. It's a tool, not your soul.

How absurd. Power is all that Satoru has. Yet, something in Toji’s words strikes a chord.

– Why should I give a shit what you say?

– Maybe you shouldn’t. Maybe I’m suffering from blood loss. 

After every dream, Toji dies before he speaks again. Each time Satoru wakes up in a panic, he remembers the phantom of two faces. A frail girl and a sullen boy with sharp eyes.

__

October, 2011

“You gotta like… divide it. You know?”

“Huh?”

Satoru frowns at the worksheet in front of him. Despite being at the top of his class his whole life, he never really cared about academia. He aced everything that was important, and then the information was lost in him. Math was easy, sure, but he didn’t know how to explain it properly to an eight-year-old.

“Look,” he says, pointing to the numbers. “See how this number on top is bigger? That makes it an improper fraction.”

“Yeah?” Megumi replies, bored.

“So, we gotta divide the big one by the little one to get the mixed fraction.”

“But it doesn’t divide evenly…”

“Yeah, so you kind of just… uh, put the leftovers in the fraction part. Next to the whole number.”

Megumi frowns, probably about to complain about Satoru’s lack of teaching instinct, when Shoko walks in. She pauses, a cigarette in her mouth, and flashes Satoru a confused look.

Satoru waves her off with a dismissive hand, turning his attention back to Megumi. The boy's intense green eyes are fixed on the paper, brow furrowed in concentration. For a moment, Satoru sees a flash of Toji in that expression—the same stubborn determination.

"Okay," Megumi says slowly, pencil hovering over the page. "So... seven divided by two is three with one left over?"

"Exactly," Satoru nods, a hint of pride creeping into his voice. "So you write it as 3 1/2."

Megumi scribbles down the answer, then looks up at Satoru expectantly. "Is that right?"

"Perfect," Satoru grins, ruffling the boy's hair. Megumi scowls and ducks away, but there's a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes.

Shoko clears her throat, reminding them of her presence. She exhales a cloud of smoke.

“Yo. You babysitting now?”

“Hey, don’t light up in front of the kids.”

“Since when do you babysit?” she narrows her eyes. “It’s not like you need the money—”

“Hold on, Megs,” Satoru interrupts. The boy happily ignores him, immediately opening Satoru’s Gameboy Advance while Satoru drags Shoko into the nearby bedroom.

After he finishes his spiel, she looks at him with disbelief. 

“What the fuck—”

“No swearing, either.”

She scoffs. “You can’t just kidnap some kids. Don’t they have any relatives that can take them in?”

“Uh, yeah. The Zenin clan,” he mutters, keeping his voice low with the door open. He looks over at Megumi on the couch, whose brows are furrowed as he plays his game. In many ways, he really was the spitting image of his father, baring the same teeth ready to snarl. Wounded pup ready to bite. Of course, he was cut from that same Zenin rib. 

Satoru sighs. Tsumiki appears, hair disheveled from her nap, and tugs on his sleeve. 

“Mister Gojo?”

“Yeah, sweetheart? And you don’t have to call me that.”

Her stomach growls before she can speak.  

Shit, he forgot to run to the store to buy more food. Shoko looks at him flatly, knowing full well that he eats like the typical university student despite having the money to get whatever organic shit they sell at the overpriced health food stores. 

“Aunt Shoko can take you out. You want a burger or something?”

He gives Shoko a pleading look, to which she rolls her eyes. “C’mon, kid.”

Shoko takes Tsumiki's hand, leading her towards the door. "Let's go, kiddo. We'll grab something for your brother too."

As they leave, Satoru collapses onto the couch next to Megumi, who's still engrossed in the game. He watches the boy's fingers move deftly over the buttons, his face a mask of concentration.

"You're pretty good at that," Satoru comments.

Megumi shrugs without looking up. "S'okay."

Satoru leans back, closing his eyes for a moment. The weight of his decision to take in these kids is starting to sink in. He's barely an adult himself, and now he's responsible for two lives. Two very complicated lives, given their connection to the Zenin clan. A pair of strays.

Megumi pouts as he button-smashes, ultimately losing a level. It’s almost endearing to Satoru, who sees himself in the boy in moments like these. Still, the ghost of Fushiguro still weighs on his shoulders whenever he looks at Megumi’s haunting green eyes. It’s like pieces of jagged glass, quick flashes of a mirrored history.

Satoru's mind wanders to you again as he watches Megumi struggle with the game. He imagines your gentle hands guiding the boy's fingers over the buttons, your patient voice explaining the intricacies of the game mechanics. You always had a way of breaking things down, making the complex simple and approachable. It was one of the things he loved most about you.

__

Satoru never really has an answer whenever Shoko asks why he decided to take the kids in. Your voice is in the back of his head, calling him selfish. It’s ironic, considering you could take partial credit for taking care of Satoru by simply being there. He was always a spoiled brat and he knew it himself.

His mind is always on you, but as the weeks pass, the thought of you is like a parasite on his brain. You’d be much better at handling the kids than him — hell, it was enough that you had to put up with Satoru’s childish antics when you grew up together.

Maybe he could convince Utahime to return and drag you along. She had always had something maternal about her. It was the way that she nagged and doted on others, the way she’d often beg Shoko to stop smoking, to which Shoko would actually listen (occasionally, for weeks at a time, until she found herself in an unexplainable manic depression again and again).

And you would adore little Megumi, who had the same sarcastic streak as you. Tsumiki would love you, too. She needed a role model that wasn’t Shoko, who often evaded responsibility of the kids by reminding Satoru that she never signed up for it, plus she was serving as something of a mentor for some underclassmen rookies at the morgue. 

Satoru's thoughts drift back to you, to the last time he saw you. The memory is etched in his mind, a bittersweet tableau of what once was and what could have been. Your eyes, usually so warm and inviting, had been cold that day, filled with a mixture of disappointment and something else he couldn't quite place. Hurt, perhaps? Or was it resignation?

It was a miracle you’d kissed him at all, even with the dry streaks of tears on your face. He remembered how hot his chest had felt just from something as chaste as your lips pressing against his. It was almost pathetic.

The memory of the kiss taunts him, a ghost of tenderness in the chaos of his new reality. What the fuck was he thinking, playing a father to these kids? Or an older brother of some sorts. Regardless, he wasn’t qualified. Not in the slightest.

In idle moments, Satoru finds himself absently touching his lips, as if he can still feel the trace of your goodbye. He shakes his head, trying to dispel the sensation that lingers on him like a second skin.

He can’t complain about being touch-starved. Not when he has two kids who were alone for God knows how long.

He remembers the way you'd explain things to him when you were younger, your eyes lighting up with excitement as you unraveled the mysteries of the world. How different would Megumi's math lesson have been if you were here? You'd probably have some clever analogy involving shogi pieces or trading cards, something that would click instantly in the boy's mind.

He tries to ignore the pang of longing in his chest. Things were so much easier when you were kids.

He can still feel your laughter. It’s imprinted in his brain, the way it would bubble up from your chest and come out all airy. He remembers the way your eyes crinkled around the corners when you laughed, the way your hands would gesture wildly when lecturing him.

He thinks about each time he saw you before the last time. Your eyes dragged down by hurt, face turning away to hide it. No matter what he said, the space between you would grow into a chasm. He wonders what you’re doing now, if you ever think of him the way he thinks of you — constantly, achingly.

The warmth of summer is the only thing that keeps him grounded. He lets Tsumiki decorate his apartment with plants she chooses at the farmer’s market — the scent of blooming jasmine and mint wafting all over his living room. It reminds him of the perfume you used to wear.

August is as slow as molasses. Sometimes it feels easy.

September, 2011

Satoru's apartment feels emptier without his towering presence, the silence broken only by the soft rustling of Tsumiki watering her plants and Megumi's quiet muttering as he plays his games. The potted plants Tsumiki lovingly tends to seem to droop, as if sensing Satoru’s absence. The late summer heat clings stubbornly to the city, but there's a hint of autumn in the air.

Satoru had left three days prior. He was alone in his house plenty of times when he was nine years old — this was his logic for leaving Tsumiki “in charge.”

"I'll be back soon," he had promised, ruffling Megumi's hair. The boy scowled but didn't pull away. "Remember the rules. Don't open the door for anyone. There's food in the fridge. And if anything happens—"

"Call Shoko," Tsumiki finished, her voice soft but steady.

Satoru nodded, a lump forming in his throat. He'd never left them alone for more than a day before. But this mission... it was too dangerous to bring them along, and too important to postpone.

Since his departure, the apartment starts to feel cavernous without Satoru’s larger-than-life presence. A storm brews over Tokyo, which leaves Tsumiki to slam all the windows closed in paranoia. She checks the locks every hour.

“You’re being dramatic,” Megumi huffs.

“No, I’m not,” Tsumiki frowns. She’s overprotective over Megumi, who’s usually occupied by Satoru’s brand new Nintendo 3DS, which came with dozens of games that he knowingly bought to occupy the boy.

It rains heavily that night, then the next. On the third night, the sky is eerily yellow, fading into a burgundy by dusk. Blood moon. Megumi and Tsumiki are huddled on the couch, the Nintendo dead and forgotten on the coffee table. Despite there not being rain, the weather outside is windy enough to blow the power out. Outside, the wind howls, rattling the windows with an odd persistence.

It’s as if something had changed in the atmosphere entirely. The shadows feel deeper than usual, if that was possible. Megumi feels it first, a prickling sensation at the base of his skull.

His stomach growls. There’s no way to heat up leftovers, goddammit. As he steps out towards the pantry, Tsumiki’s favorite jasmine plant withers before his eyes, its vibrant green leaves turning black and crumbling to dust.

Something is terribly wrong.

The air grows heavy, thick with an unseen presence. The shadows in the corners of the room seem to writhe and stretch, reaching out with inky tendrils. A low, guttural growl emanates from somewhere beyond the walls. There’s a scratching at the door, soft at first, then growing more insistent. Megumi's eyes widen, his hand instinctively reaching for Tsumiki's.

Megumi's heart races as he recognizes the telltale signs of a cursed spirit manifesting. He'd seen it before, back when...

He shakes the memory away, focusing on protecting Tsumiki. 

"It's probably just a cat," Tsumiki whispers, but her voice trembles.

The scratching stops, replaced by a low, guttural growl that sends chills down their spines. This is no cat.

Megumi springs into action, dragging Tsumiki towards Satoru's room. They barricade the door with a dresser, their hearts pounding in their ears.

"We need to call someone," Tsumiki says, her voice barely audible over the sound of splintering wood from the living room.

“W-We’re fine,” Megumi huffs nervously. His Divine dogs are braced for danger and both double his size. It’s fine, he tells himself.

“Gojo said you can’t use your technique yet. It’s too dangerous.”

“Well, someone has to protect us around here!”

“Don’t,” Tsumiki warns. “Let’s just call Shoko.”

Megumi rolls his eyes, fumbling for the emergency phone Satoru left them. His fingers shake as he scrolls through the contacts. Shoko's name is there, but something makes him pause. Another number catches his eye, labeled simply "Last Resort."

Without thinking, he presses call.

The phone rings once, twice, three times. Each second feels like an eternity as the shadows in the room seem to pulse and grow.

Finally, a click.

“Hello?”

"Please," Megumi chokes out, terror making his voice crack. "We need help. Gojo's gone and there's something in the apartment and—"

“Whoa, slow down—”

Tsumiki takes the phone frantically.

“Please,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “Something's wrong, there’s something outside, and Mister Gojo isn't here, and we found your number, and—"

“Hey,” you whisper softly. “Just relax a second. Who is this?”

"I'm Tsumiki," she says, her voice steadying slightly at the calm in your tone. “Is… is Shoko there?”

“No… I’m a friend of hers—”

“Mister Gojo is away,” Tsumiki interrupts. “We’re supposed to call Shoko if anything happens, but my brother Megumi called your number instead—”

A low, rumbling growl cuts through the air, causing both children to freeze. Megumi's eyes widen as he sees something move in the shadows, something with too many limbs and eyes that gleam with malevolent hunger.

"What was that?" you ask, your voice sharp with concern.

"There's something here," Megumi says, taking the phone from his sister. "Something... not normal. The shadows are moving, and—"

Another growl, closer this time. Tsumiki lets out a small whimper, pressing close to her brother. Megumi's head snaps up, green eyes narrowing as he listens intently.

"Megumi?" Tsumiki whispers, voice trembling slightly.

He holds up a hand, signaling for quiet.

Megumi's mind races. Satoru had drilled them on what to do in emergencies, but faced with the reality of the situation, panic threatened to overwhelm him. He grabs Tsumiki's hand, pulling her towards Satoru's bedroom.

"Hide," he hisses, shoving her towards the closet. "Don't come out no matter what."

"Megumi, don't!" Tsumiki shrieks, but he ignores her, peering around the corner.

Megumi peers out into the empty. The looming darkness is filled with whispers that he isn't sure are in his head or not. There’s a crash outside and his heart races — is someone trying to break in?

He rushes back to Tsumiki and hides in the closet with her, the phone muffling your voice as he shoves it in his pocket.

“What’s going on?” you demand.

“Shhh,” Megumi whispers.

His heart pounds as he and Tsumiki huddle in the closet. The darkness seems alive, pulsing with malevolent energy. A foul odor seeps under the door – rotting flesh mixed with sulfur.

Through the crack of the closet door, Megumi sees it. Tsumiki bites her lip to stifle a scream.

Standing before them is a grotesque creature, its body a writhing mass of shadows and tentacles. It's barely humanoid, its body a writhing mass of shadows and teeth. Multiple yellow eyes blink at random across its form. A gaping maw lined with needle-sharp teeth stretches open, dripping black ichor. Tendrils of inky blackness slither across the floor, probing every corner of the room. Where they touch, the carpet withers and disintegrates.

A face emerges from the writhing mass - if it can be called a face at all. It's a nightmarish patchwork of mismatched features, eyes blinking open and closed at random across its surface. A mouth stretches impossibly wide, revealing row upon row of needle-sharp teeth.

Megumi's breath catches in his throat. This is something far worse than an intruder — a cursed spirit, the kind Satoru had warned them about but never fully explained.

The spirit pauses, its grotesque head swiveling towards the closet. Megumi's blood runs cold as dozens of eyes focus on their hiding spot. He knows, with bone-deep certainty, that they've been found.

Megumi's mind races. He knows he shouldn't use his technique, but what choice does he have? As the creature reaches for them with elongated, clawed fingers, Megumi summons every ounce of courage he has.

"Divine Dogs!" he shouts, his voice cracking.

Two massive, spectral hounds materialize, their fur crackling with otherworldly energy. They lunge at the shadow creature, tearing into it with ethereal fangs. The being shrieks, a sound that makes the windows rattle and the children's ears ring.

Just as the dying spirit lunges toward them, the bedroom door explodes inward. A familiar figure lands in a crouch, cigarette dangling from her lips. A familiar figure lands in a crouch, cigarette dangling from her lips.

"What the fuck," she mutters, before springing into action. “Get back, kiddo!”

Megumi panics and turns to see Tsumiki shaking in the corner, his heart leaping with adrenaline. Immediately, he covers her as a shield once he realizes that the cursed spirit is regenerating its limbs.

"Hey, ugly," Shoko drawls, flicking ash onto the carpet.

The spirit whirls to face her, letting out an ear-splitting shriek. Shoko doesn't flinch. Her hands move in a blur, tracing intricate patterns in the air. Blue light crackles between her fingers, and the temperature in the room plummets.

"Megumi, Tsumiki," she calls out, not taking her eyes off the spirit. "Cover your ears and close your eyes. Now!"

The children obey without hesitation. Even with their eyes squeezed shut, they see the flash of brilliant light through their eyelids. The spirit's shriek cuts off abruptly, replaced by an odd sucking sound, like air being pulled through a too-small vent.

With a final, ear-splitting shriek, the creature implodes, leaving nothing but a fading wisp of darkness and dark purple blood.

"You kids okay?" Shoko asks, her usual nonchalance tinged with genuine concern.

Megumi nods shakily, helping Tsumiki to her feet.

"How did you know to come?" Tsumiki asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

Shoko's eyes narrow when she hears a tinny voice. "What is that?”

In the sudden silence, Megumi becomes aware of the voice still coming from the phone in his pocket. His eyes widen when he remembers. He fumbles with the phone, putting it on speaker.

Shoko immediately recognizes your voice. She snatches the phone from Megumi's grasp.

"What's happening?" you yell, your voice tinny and distant.

"They're safe," she says, her tone clipped. "I've got them."

"Shoko?" you gasp. "What the hell is going on? Where's Satoru?"

Shoko sighs, running a hand through her hair. "It's a long story. He's on a mission."

"A mission? And he left two children alone?" The anger in your voice is palpable. "What the fuck?”

Shoko takes a long drag from her cigarette, her eyes darting between the kids and the phone.

“You know how he is,” she mutters, avoiding their gazes now.

"Look, I've got this under control. You don't need to—"

"Under control? Are two children getting attacked what you call fucking under control?”

Megumi and Tsumiki exchange glances, sensing the tension even through the phone line. Shoko sighs, her usual sardonic demeanor slipping for a moment.

"They weren't supposed to be alone," she mutters. "I was meant to check in, but..." She trails off, guilt etched on her face.

"But what?" you press, your voice sharp.

"I got held up at work. A bad case. I lost track of time."

There's a moment of heavy silence. When you speak again, your voice is quieter, but no less intense. "So you’re at his apartment now? He has an apartment? How are the kids?"

"Obviously he does — he’s rich… anyways, that’s not the point," Shoko huffs, glancing around the disheveled room. "The kids are okay, just shaken up."

"I'm coming over," you say firmly. "Text me the address."

"Wait, from Kyoto? I don't think that's a good —" Shoko starts, but you've already hung up.

Shoko stares at the phone for a moment, then turns to the children. Megumi is watching her with those unnervingly intense eyes, while Tsumiki seems to be on the verge of tears.

"Alright, kids," Shoko says, stubbing out her cigarette. "Let's get this place cleaned up before our guest arrives. And maybe... maybe don't mention the whole cursed spirit thing to them, okay?"

Megumi nods solemnly, but Tsumiki speaks up, her voice trembling. "Who was that? On the phone?"

Shoko hesitates, choosing her words carefully. "An old friend. Someone who cares about you two, even if they don't know you yet."

She gives a wry smile and surveys the destruction of the apartment — a shattered window, scorched walls, blood on the carpet. Luckily, it’s all replaceable, but she knows that Satoru will whine about the damage despite the fact that he should be blamed for leaving two elementary schoolers alone in the first place. Ironically, the worst damage to him will be whatever words you have for him once you get back to Tokyo. She almost laughs at the idea.

The night wears on, the silence broken only by Shoko's cleaning and the distant sounds of the city. She puts the kids to bed as she cleans, eventually passing out on the couch.

Hours later, when the first hints of dawn begin to color the sky, there’s a knock at the door. Shoko wakes up and tenses. She immediately senses Tsumiki in the corner, the damn early bird. Her big eyes watch her curiously.

“It’s okay,” Shoko calls to her. “It’s probably… our, uh, guest.”

She opens the door, revealing a figure silhouetted. Tsumiki cranes her neck to get a better look.

You enter the room, your eyes immediately scanning for threats before settling on Tsumiki. Your expression softens.

The air in the apartment feels charged, the earlier supernatural encounter leaving a macabre energy. The residuals are everywhere. They’re suffocating. You can taste the metallic tang of blood in the air. It’s faint but present. 

“What… the fuck happened?”

“Just a.. break in?” Shoko says sheepishly. She isn’t sure if that sounds better or worse than a supernatural entity.

You stare long and hard at the dried blood on the carpet. A cursed spirit.

“Why in the world would the kids attract a curse that big? Was it a special grade?”

“No, no,” Shoko sighs and shakes her head. “A Grade 2 at best. The kids were just spooked. They’ve probably never seen anything like that before.”

You pause, narrowing your eyes.

“Are you going to explain to me why Satoru is housing two children despite not even being able to stay with them?”

Shoko glances at her phone, which somehow managed to get shattered in the chaos prior. The screen glows 6:23 am. She sighs.

“Sit down. I’ll make some coffee.”

__

Satoru is barely awake when he returns to the apartment two days later. His hair is disheveled, the bluish veins underneath in his eyes more prominent underneath his nearly translucent skin. As he approaches the door, he senses something different — cursed energy that’s vaguely familiar. His heart skips a beat.

Something is wrong, but there is also a presence that is rather… comforting behind the door. He can’t quite place the energy. His stomach flips. He pauses, hand hovering over the doorknob, before taking a deep breath and stepping inside.

The sight that greets him stops him in his tracks. There you are, standing in his living room, your eyes blazing with a fury he hasn't seen in years. The sunlight streaming through the windows catches the highlights in your hair, creating a halo effect that makes you look almost ethereal. For a moment, Satoru forgets to breathe.

He freezes completely. It has only been two months since he’d last seen you, yet you’re more beautiful than ever. You’re here. In his apartment, in the flesh. You’re real and solid and so achingly familiar that it makes his heart clench.

“Y/N,” he breathes. Something in you aches when you hear your name from his mouth instead of Twigs.

Before he gets another word in, you launch into a tirade that would make lesser men cower.

“What the hell were you thinking, Satoru?" Your voice is low and dangerous, each word sharp as a blade. "Leaving two children alone in an apartment? Do you have any idea what could have happened? What did happen?"

Satoru opens his mouth to respond, but you cut him off with a raised hand. Your words come out in a torrent, each one hitting him like a physical blow.

“No, you don’t get to speak right now. I don’t care if the higher-ups threatened an execution on you if you didn’t take whatever fucking mission you went on! A Grade 2 was here, Satoru. With two defenseless children.”

You're pacing now. Your hair whips around your face as you turn, and Satoru is mesmerized by the way the morning light catches in it.

“And what's this about you taking in two kids, anyway? Since when are you qualified to be a guardian? You can barely take care of yourself! You thought you could do this on your own and have Shoko play babysitter knowing she works her ass off at the morgue? What were you thinking?"

As you continue, gesticulating wildly, Satoru feels a mix of emotions swirling within him. Guilt, certainly, for the danger he'd inadvertently put Megumi and Tsumiki in. Concern for their wellbeing. But underlying it all is a current of... something else.

Your passion, your righteous anger on behalf of the children - it stirs something in him. The way your eyes flash, the way your voice rises and falls with emotion, the way your body moves as you pace and gesture - it's intoxicating.

Satoru knows he should be ashamed, should be apologizing, explaining. But a part of him - a part he's not proud of - is thrilled by your anger. It makes heat pool in his stomach. It means you care. It means you still feel something for him, even if it's fury.

He should be focusing on your words, on the valid points you're making. But part of him is lost in the way your lips form each syllable, the way your hair falls across your face as you shake your head in disbelief.

"Are you even listening to me?" you demand, snapping him back to attention.

"Every word," he murmurs, his voice low and husky.

You falter for a moment, caught off guard by the intensity of his gaze. Then you continue to rally against him, launching into yet another tirade, and despite the passionate cadence of your voice that he loves so very much, he can’t help but have that fade into the background as he stares at you. Your presence alone is starting to make him feel dizzy.

He's vaguely aware that he should be defending himself, but he can't bring himself to interrupt. Instead, he drinks in the sight of you, cataloging every detail. The way your brow furrows when you're particularly upset. The slight tremble in your hands as you wave them around.

As you continue to berate him, Satoru finds himself fighting the urge to pull you close, to silence your anger with his lips. The thought shocks him - he shouldn't be thinking like this, not when you're rightfully furious with him. But he can't help it. 

You’re still pacing, not even really looking at him as you go on about how fucking stupid he is, and how childish, which somehow progresses into you rambling about one time a few years ago when you were sick at his house during a winter break and he had managed to start a fire while attempting to make soup for you, because that’s how fucking stupid he is. 

You don’t even notice him stalking towards you until he takes your arms in his hands, steeling his grip on you so that he can kiss you square on the mouth. You whine petulantly, pushing him away. He feels a strike on his right cheek that is… well-deserved, honestly.

Your mind reels. You’re not one for being physical besides sparring, but you’ve never hit Satoru in your life. Part of you feels guilty for a millisecond. Part of you is surprised that he let you through his Infinity.

“I– What the hell is wrong with you? Why do you always do that? You do that literally every time we have a fight–”

“I’m sorry,” he breathes. “I deserved that slap.”

“No shit,” you grit. “This isn’t fucking funny, Satoru. Do you even take me seriously?”

“Yes. You can slap me again if you don’t believe me. Punch me all you want.”

“Okay, don’t make it weird,” you mutter.

“What?” he frowns sheepishly.

You narrow your eyes. “I know you’re turned on right now.”

“Wha– I am not.”

“You are the most infuriating man I have ever had the displeasure of meeting–”

“I’m sorry,” he interrupts. His voice is earnest. “I really am—”

“Do not interrupt me,” you hiss. 

Yes, ma’am, he murmurs in his head. He lets you yell at him a bit more until you’re particularly out of breath. His gaze on you is still intense, slightly wanton, and once you finish your ranting, you fidget awkwardly at his commanding presence.

It’s now that you start to see him – although you’d seen him on Tanabata, it was brief and night. In the context of his apartment (you knew he could always afford one but didn’t understand why he never just lived off campus before), and the fact that he has a blooming bruise below his jaw, you realize that he’s grown. His features have sharpened. His eyes look tired, his hands more calloused.

You shake away those observations to focus on how livid you are.

“Do you have anything to say?” you snap.

“I really am in love with you,” he mutters. Your eyes widen. 

Before you can react, the door opens, revealing Shoko and the kids. Tsumiki, ever oblivious to the tension, lights up at the sight of Gojo and runs to hug him. Megumi’s curious eyes dart between the both of you. 

“Gojo-san! You’re back!” Tsumiki beams.

Satoru's eyes widen as Tsumiki barrels into him, wrapping her small arms around his waist. For a moment, his gaze flicks between you and the little girl clinging to him, his expression a mix of tenderness and uncertainty.

He bends down to hug the little girl, ruffling her hair affectionately.

"Hey kiddo, I missed you. Were you good while I was gone?"

Tsumiki nods eagerly. "Uh-huh! We made new friends!"

Satoru raises an eyebrow, glancing at you. "Oh really?"

"Mhm! Miss Y/N is so nice! She made us pancakes yesterday and helped me water all my plants."

A soft smile tugs at Satoru's lips as he looks at you. "Is that so?"

You feel your cheeks heat up under his gaze. "Someone had to make sure they were fed," you mutter.

Megumi hovers in the doorway, eyeing Satoru warily. "Where were you?" he demands.

Satoru sighs, standing up. "The mission took a bit longer than expected.”

"You said you'd be back soon," Megumi accuses. "It's been days."

"I know, I'm sorry," Satoru says, looking genuinely remorseful. "I didn’t want to be away for so long. But I'm back now, and I promise I won't leave you guys like that again."

Megumi nods curtly, seemingly satisfied for now. Shoko clears her throat. "Well, now that the gang's all here, how about some breakfast? We picked up a lot of groceries."

As everyone moves towards the kitchen, Satoru hangs back, catching your arm gently. "Hey, can we talk? Please?"

You hesitate, torn between your lingering anger and the earnestness in his eyes. Finally, you nod. "Fine. But not now. After breakfast."

Satoru nods, relief evident on his face. "Thank you."

The kitchen is a whirlwind of activity as Shoko attempts to make French toast (with questionable success) while the kids chatter. You find yourself watching Satoru, the way he interacts with the children. There's a gentleness there you've never seen before, a protective instinct that makes your heart ache.

As you all sit down to eat, Tsumiki regales Satoru with tales of your kindness, how you taught her to braid her hair and helped Megumi with his homework. Satoru listens intently, his eyes never leaving your face. You flush under his gaze, embarrassed. You’d only been around for maybe two days to allow Shoko to rest and you were already getting praised so heavily by a nine-year-old.

"She’s the best!" Tsumiki declares through a mouthful of pancake. "Can she stay with us forever?"

Satoru chokes on his coffee, while you nearly drop your fork. "Ah, well," Satoru stammers, "That's... complicated, sweetie."

"Why?" Megumi pipes up, his sharp eyes darting between you and Satoru. “She should stay. She helped me beat Chocolate Island on Super Mario.”

“Well… Y/N is just visiting. She’s visiting from Kyoto.”

Your heart sinks at the sight of Tsumiki’s pout.

“I can stay for a little bit,” you interject. Satoru and Shoko look at you with surprise. Shoko’s raised brows falter as her expression turns into one of amusement.

“You should sleep in the guest room that I was sleeping in. I only use it when I have to stay overnight, anyway,” Shoko smirks. You blink at her, your eyes silently telling her to stop talking.

“Yeah! You should stay with us! It’s nice having a girl around,” Tsumiki chirps. “Pleaaaase?”

“I— I’ll have to check with the school. I still have classes and work on the Kyoto campus…” you say sheepishly.

“But you won’t leave today, right?” Megumi asks.

You smile softly. “No, sweetheart, I’m not leaving today.”

Satoru lets out a breath of relief that he didn’t realize he was holding in. The kids drop the subject, easily distracted by Shoko telling a story about an incident in the morgue with her underclassmen. While the kids squeal at the more… grotesque details of her story, you and Satoru exchange glances.

You can't help but feel that something fundamental has shifted. The Satoru you knew - reckless, carefree, seemingly invincible - has been replaced by someone more complex, more human. More vulnerable. The air between you feels charged, electric with lingering conflict.

"Hey," Satoru murmurs, his voice low and urgent. "About what I said—"

"Not now," you cut him off, your voice sharper than you intended.

Satoru nods, a flicker of something—disappointment? Relief?—crossing his face. "Later, then."

He moves on, immediately turning into his goofy, charismatic self as he engages in conversation.

And as much as you want to hold onto your anger, a part of you is intrigued by this new version of him. He had always been a bit immature and arrogant. He often didn’t take things seriously, but Satoru in the presence of children was something else. He was an accountable man, in more ways than beyond saving others from cursed spirits. A man who takes in orphaned children, who looks at you with such raw vulnerability in his eyes.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for whatever comes next. Whatever this is - whatever Satoru has gotten himself into - you're now irrevocably a part of it. And despite everything, a small voice in the back of your mind whispers that maybe, just maybe, that's not such a bad thing after all.

[ok555ficideas]

Kevin knew he was difficult to hang out with. No one ever wanted to listen to his rants about Exy, except for Neil and even the redhead got easily annoyed by him at times. He tried to talk about his other interests, but despite his best attempts he always sounded like a know-it-all. He didn’t want to make other people feel inferior, but he always had trouble modulating his tone into a gentler one. 

He used to not care about that. With the Ravens it was expected of him. He didn’t need to respect them, his job was to play and criticize them to make them better. The only people he had to try and behave around in the nest were Riko and the master. He remembered all those times when he got beat up, not knowing why. He thought he was talking normally and just sharing his thoughts but both men always found his attitude inappropriate. 

Growing up with them was tough. Kevin always felt different growing up. He hated not knowing what was expected of him. He made instructions in his head for every situation, for every person, just to not make any mistakes. With the master and Riko it was difficult. There was no way of predicting how they would react to a situation. Kevin tried really hard to be obedient and to play by their rules, but the rules were always changing. He was scared and confused and more times than not he took it out on other people. He was allowed to torment other players, he was even encouraged to do so. Every time he saw Riko smile, because he obliterated someone else with his words, he felt like he had finally cracked the code. He felt like this would gain him some points in this sick game, but it never did. It didn’t make Riko any less ruthless.

The first time he felt like he could be himself was with Jean. He still remembered the scared little kid entering the nest with the heart of a lion. Jean was scrawny, not yet hovering over others at the age of fourteen like he was now. Yet he was so much braver than Kevin ever was. He was so unapologetically himself, until Riko tortured it out of him. Still, when it was only two of them Kevin felt more at ease than he had felt his entire life. Jean understood him, Kevin didn’t need an instruction for him, because with the backliner he felt like he was allowed to make mistakes and he would be forgiven. 

Almost any mistake, because he wasn’t sure if they would be able to go back from his last one. He hoped that Jean would at least now have a happy life with the Trojans and that some day they would be okay again. 

He tried with the Foxes as well. He wanted them to get better and he was tired of masking all of his emotions so he just let them out. He realized fairly quickly that he was not a friend material and he refused to be scared of them like he was of Riko and didn‘t want to waste his time on playing nice like with the press. But unlike his jabs at the Ravens, the ones he was throwing at the Foxes were filled with gratitude and hope for them to get better. 

part of Soldier, Poet, King where I decided that Kevin will be an outlet for my frustration with growing up autistic without knowing it.

[karmacharmeleon18]

Hey there! Love your Kevin/Kevjean/Kerejean takes. You worded out some of my thoughts perfectly.

Do you think you could talk a bit more about the parallel between Kevin learning French for himself vs. Jeremy learning French for Jean? I think it's another clear example of why Jerejean is the best for Jean. Thanks!

Hello and thank you so much! It means a lot to me that people appreciate my yapping because I always feel horrible for taking up so much space in the JereJean&AFTG tags with my ramblings lol so this is a relief! ❤

As for the rest of your ask, you’ve already summed it up perfectly? Kevin learned French for himself, Jeremy learned French for Jean

JEREMY KNOX I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!!!

My biggest criticism of Kevin is always that he never thinks of the consequences, unless they affect him directly. But as long as they only affect someone else? That’s all fine and dandy for Kevin

(I’m actually looking forward to his own POV possibly proving me wrong on this! I don’t like to hate Kevin; please, Nora, do change my mind about him!)

French is a prime example

Riko treated Jean like an animal and was very clear that he was to never speak French again, and about what happens to misbehaving animals

Jean knew what the consequences would be for himself if he was caught not only speaking French but teaching it to Riko’s brother

And Kevin knew as well

But he didn’t care

(*cough* like KevJean shippers don't care about the consequences such a toxic relationship would have on Jean *cough* they only care about the possible benefits for Kevin *cough*)

Jean was a terrified kid and Kevin is a pretty good manipulator in general (with the media and his affable fake smiles)

But maybe Jean was just so scared and lonely that it didn't take much convincing at all

Honestly, I don't know what's worse

Either way, Kevin took advantage of him, his fear, his loneliness...

. . .

Another thing to consider is that Kevin insisted Jean teach him; he didn’t try to go behind Riko’s back to acquire French books or CDs, because something like that would draw too much attention on himself

Jeremy? He asks Jean to teach him and when he refuses, he decides to learn on his own and not bother Jean with it; Jean set a boundary, and that's it

“But Kevin didn’t have a choice!” I hear people scream in the distance, pitchforks in hand

And sure, Kevin did not have the choice to ask someone at Evermore for supplies to learn French

But Kevin did have a choice: he had the choice not to learn French. Learning French was not a need. His survival did not depend on it

If anything, Jean’s survival depended on him abandoning French in favor or English and Japanese

But Kevin wanted to learn French because he wanted a “friend” he could talk with in a language no one else understood. And what Kevin wanted, Kevin got. Fuck the consequences for Jean

(I actually hope Nora proves me wrong on this? Because disliking a character so much is draining lol)

And I understand why. I can’t stress this enough. I know that Kevin was a victim as well. And that he wanted a “friend” (if friendship can even exist, in such a dark place), a companion who he could share his passions with in a language no one else understood. I get it.

But Kevin only ever thinks about his own comfort. He doesn’t want to learn French for Jean, but for himself

Kevin learning French is a noose around Jean’s neck, getting tighter and tighter the more Kevin learns, the more he speaks words out loud, because the walls of the Nest have ears and if someone hears them, who are Riko and the Master going to beat to death, realistically? The Son and future of Exy, Riko’s brother and partner, the crown jewel of the Nest? Or the queer foreign boy who’s property, and unruly, and who fought and defied Riko for 5 months and maybe this mistake is the perfect excuse to put him back in his place once and for all? Kevin is holding the rope and tugging and tugging on it with a beautiful smile on his beautiful face

But Jeremy learning French is an offering. He wants to offer Jean comfort, companionship, the right to speak his own mother tongue with another human without the fear of punishment, of death

His smile is kind, his hands gentle, they don't tug, they search Jean's own to hold and stop Jean from hurting himself

And Jeremy is not immune from consequences, he knows what might happen if his mother finds out he’s been neglecting his LSATs in favor of learning French. Or learning French at all, even excluding the LSATs. William said he would “make a strong enough case in your favor” and Jeremy thought “it was a bit weak, but Jeremy knew it would work”, but will it work? We don’t know (because Jeremy is so damn cryptic, I don’t know if Mathilda found out and she’s ok with it? Or if she hasn’t found out yet, and that’s why we haven’t heard about her reaction)

But Jeremy accepts those consequences, because he knows this is is worth it, Jean is worth it, Jean deserves this

He's not learning French for anyone but Jean

Jeremy is without a doubt the best possible person for Jean to be with.

I think it's awful how this is even a debate in the fandom.

. . .

Even though I don’t want to read about the Nest, I think I’ll have to read The Perfect Court, because I need more info on Kevin Day, I need to understand him more, be in his head, feel the way he thinks

Because right now, 5 books and 10 years in, he’s a monumental asshole, getting worse with every book and outside POV, still a Raven in most ways, and I want him as far away from Jean and Jeremy as possible

I do think his behavior will improve in The Queen’s Game (… it’s not like it can get worse lol), because in the Nest Kevin was a prince and Jean was an animal, but now, for Ichirou there’s virtually no difference between Kevin, Jean, Neil… if one of them makes a mistake, it’s possible that all of them might pay the consequences for it. Now Kevin and Jean are technically equals, even if Kevin will never feel/understand that. But now he might understand consequences. That what affects Jean (and Neil) might affect him as well. So I can see him being more careful around Jean, less inclined to put him in danger in any way

Not that he would even have the chance to put him in much danger now, outside of the Nest (I don't think?), but I hope you get what I’m trying to say lol

I'm sorry, I always answer asks when it’s waaay past my bedtime and my brain is fried 😂🙃🔫

[sunriseabram]

Yes. Riko was an abuser. Nobody can deny that he hurt, sexually abused and tormented people physically and emotionally.

Yes. Riko was abused. He was hit by Tetsuji when he got things wrong, conditioned to believe that he had to be the best or his life wasn't worth living. He was abandoned by his father because he was second born, ignored by his big brother, and not even congratulated after he tried everything to gain their approval.

Yes. He hurt Jean out of anger. He used Jean as an object because that is all he had ever been to his father and family. He was a way to make money, but his father never saw him as anything more than that. It allowed him to feel powerful and in control of someone when everything else in his life was out of his control.

Yes. He flips after his father dies. Of course, he does. When you've worked your entire life to be acknowledged, spending thousands upon thousands of hours training to win, winning trophies, doing sponsorships, raising great chunks of money for the family, only for your father to die before even showing an ounce of pride for you? Of course, he flips. Jean just happens to be there, someone he knows he can hurt and get away with. Someone less than him at the bottom of the food chain. Perhaps the only person who sees the anger for what it truly is: failure. And Riko doesn't like that.

Yes. He hurt Kevin out of jealousy. Riko grew up in a world where failure was unacceptable. Failure meant pain, death and suffering. Exy was all Riko had and all he ever had. He couldn't stand to be second best because second best is all he had ever been. He would not be second in the one thing he was meant to be the king of. He hurt Kevin out of jealousy, and was beaten to an inch of his life for it.

Yes. He grew up sheltered. Riko was groomed to be a star by Tetsuji. He was groomed and exploited for money by the only person who had ever looked at him and seen something. He lost his mother. His father didn't care about him. He had nobody. He lived underground in the nest for most of his life and played exy every single day for most of his childhood. He probably had no friends his own age until Kevin came along. There was nobody who understood what Riko was going through.

Yes. Riko hurt Andrew. He had Andrew hurt as another power trip. It was to show he had great power and could do what he wanted with it. He had no boundaries. Throughout the series, Riko is shown to be insecure. He craves power and acknowledgement and wants to prove he has a place in the mafia family next to his brother.

Yes. Riko is more complex than a simple villain. He is self-destructive and works to the bone to try and be worth something. He uses anger to cover up his blatant abandonment issues. He is never and will never be enough. And if he can't be enough, then nobody else can. Nobody can take his place.

He is scared of Kevin, frightened of Neil, terrified of Andrew. He is constantly trying to stop his precarious tower from tumbling in the only way he knows how.

If all his mistakes were punished with pain, disappointment and anger, how can he know any different? He doesn't know the world really and hasn't experienced it outside his little box of stardom. He doesn't know what is 'normal.' For him, failing means getting beaten. Failure means losing his status. Failing means falling from power. It always has.

No. Just because Riko was abused and groomed does not mean that his abusive behaviours were justified. He chose to become an abuser, despite everything he had suffered.

No. He wasn't born evil. He is horrible - don't get me wrong - but he shouldn't just be cast off as coming out of the womb with horns and a tail. He was shaped by his experiences, negative and positive. We all are.

Riko thought beating people into submission would show his power and prove his worth to his family. In the end, it resulted in his downfall.

[andreilslovechild]

Do you ever think about Riko and Kevin at the press conferences between kevin breaking his hand and the start of TFC?

Because I do.

Riko watching the screen through swollen eyes, at his uncle telling the smooth lie they'd come up with, his body aching from the blows of his cane after riko had admitted what he'd done. The scene before him jumping seconds or minutes ahead each time he blinks as his consciousness drifts. Tetsuji hadn't been light handed in his punishment, but when had he ever. Looking to his side and seeing Jean, equally as torn up and bruised, but this time by his own hands when he realized what he himself had caused. The sight of those bruises bringing forth the anger and then the savage creeping guilt that tore at his insides as he sees for not the first time the kind of monster he's capable of becoming. That he's already become.

Kevin, hunching over at his father's side until the media training kicks in and he straightens up, playing along with tetsujis lie. He didn't have a choice not to. Feeling the empty space beside him as he sat in front of dozens of cameras, all eager to capture Kevin Days image for the first time since The Accident. Kevin feeling his mouth move but not hearing his own words as he said his piece, rehearsed and polished to a shining gleam as he reiterated his father's words, saying how excited he was to use this tragedy as a chance to help a new team with his skills even from the sidelines. Getting out of the cameras view as quickly as possible, because answering questions without riko at his side, subtly cueing him on when to answer, felt wrong.

Riko playing secretly taped grainy footage of that conference over and over again, if only to hear Kevin's voice, see the small figure on the screen that represented his partner. Staring across the room at the empty bed, Kevin's side of the room still scattered with his belongings that riko didn't dare touch for fear of breaking them like he'd broken Kevin. Riko anxiously restringing Kevin's racket again and again to get the tension just right while he waits for the results of his uncles offer, at his weak attempt to call Kevin home.

Kevin standing at his father's side once again, this time taller and healed as he announces he's joining the foxes. That he's playing for them and not Edgar Allan. Stronger and bolder but still broken, still missing the other half to the pair he'd spent his life with. Kevin's hand gripping a bottle of vodka with the same death grip he used on exy rackets as he waits for the inevitable media frenzy as his announcement goes public.

Riko doing damage control with his uncle as they wish Kevin well in his endeavors, as Riko smiles empty smiles at reporters asking him again and again how he felt about Kevin leaving. The same practiced answer falling from his lips everytime instead of what he wanted to say, that he was scared, that he missed Kevin, that he hated himself every day Kevin was gone. That if it weren't for his uncles ever watchful gaze and sharp ire he would have killed himself in penance for breaking his precious friend.

Kevin rewatching every interview over and over whenever he could catch a few seconds, having to hide it from Andrew who would surely break his laptop if he knew Kevin was doing this instead of analyzing games. Scanning rikos face the same way he would an exy court since he knew it just as well if not better, trying to find how he really felt in the twitch of a finger or the tick of an eyebrow, still feeling his ghost next to him as he deciphered each second of footage he could get his hands on.

Both of them feeling the empty hole at their sides and filling them with someone else if only to ease the pain for a moment even though it never really helped. Andrew for Kevin, Jean for Riko. Both of them throwing themselves into exy to avoid thinking about the other, but only feeling the missing piece more and more. Riko throwing a pass to someone who wasn't there, watching a raven stumble as they struggled to catch a pass meant for someone taller then them. Kevin turning to say something to riko as he studied the foxes plays only to remember that he wasn't there, his criticism dying on his lips.

Do you guys ever think about this? Because I do. I think about it a lot.

[zombiecowboy65]

I know Kevin and Jean have a lot of history, and it's said they know each other very well (I don't know if this is a fandom thing or if it's said at some point in the books; I just remember Jeremy thinking they have a lot of history).

But… does Kevin really know Jean? I mean, Kevin has only seen Jean broken, terrified, tortured, brainwashed. That's not really knowing a person. You only see one side of him, and it's the worst: the survivor side. A side that isn't normal.

Does Kevin know that Jean is a very good man? Does he know he's caring to his friends? Does he know he teaches the rookies on his team, because he has that teacher side? Does he know he had a little sister he adored? Does he know he's fiercely protective of those he loves?

After his reaction in TGR, it's very clear to me that Kevin doesn't really know Jean.

Well if the boot fits!

I mean I don’t really know if Jean ever talked to Kevin about anything and there’s still a possibility Nora will smush it in that Jean used to tell him about everything, but I mean Kevin didn’t even bring up his sister iirc? (And would that not be Jean’s first priority ? Like idk . Man contacted his father, even tho ravens have no family, but the first thing he says to Jean is about Jeremy) . And u can argue narrators are unreliable till the cows come home but at some point u have to admit details / scenes are missing because they just don’t exist?

(There is a scene in TSC where Kevin says Jean cannot lie to him, but I kinda think that was solely about where his injuries came from ? And skewed perspective because Kevin also says that Jean would never betray the ravens in TGR and then Jean tosses them away without a second thought later on)

And after that scene in the kitchen where Jeremy says Kevin was trying to make sense of the person in front of him…I think Kevin knew a version of Jean that was like what you said. Broken tortured scared angry. He (or maybe Neil? I can’t remember which one) says the reason Jean bows his head to Riko (in the og series) is because he has nothing outside of the nest. And he knows how Jean ended up at the nest but I mean. I was honestly floored when Kevin knew that much about Jeremy lmfao. But I guess it is different because Jeremy’s shit hit the fan very publicly and he could easily look things up? Because I mean he didn’t know Jeremy was considering law school — he only knew his grandfather was a senator .

I think Kevin for sure figured things out about Jean. Like for example when he asks Jean to distract Riko I’m pretty sure he knew Jean would say yes (I know we were in Jean’s pov but cmon now. If Jean could figure out Jeremy’s shirt was blue from watching him look at one shirt Kevin could figure out Jean would help him out) . And he knew Jean would help Neil in the nest. So I think he knew Jean was a good man, but I don’t think he knows anything beyond that.

(Also there’s that scene where Jean goes like ballistic protecting Jeremy, and I was kinda floored because everything up until that point was like. Jean’s perspective of him being like oh I was targeted in the nest and no one feared me and they all hated me but Kevin just? Didn’t say anything? And I get it’s skewed perspective but… ? Idk like when exactly would Kevin have seen him like that yk? Shouldn’t u be jaws on the floor wondering what the fuck he’s doing 😭)

But overall I honestly think they were less of friends and more allies. And I’ll stand by that until I’m proven wrong but. They really were trauma bonded, whether the fandom likes to admit it or not.

[orieriee]

Chapter 13 ✦ Three years

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Sypnosis: Y/N L/N is a special shaman from a jujutsu family. Y/N was sent to Tokyo to go on missions to prove their worth as the next heir. With the ability of 'flow', a cursed technique that allows its user to see and manipulate forces of energy freely. Y/N stumbled across Geto Suguru amidst a dark aura, carrying a weight of chaotic and dark energy. Will Y/N be able to help Geto overcome his turmoil? Will Y/N fulfill the lifelong anticipation and succeed in becoming the next heir?

Time setting: 2007, a year after Amanai Riko's death, before Geto Suguru's breaking point. gn!reader. I use they/them pronounce for neutrality.

Disclaimer: This will be a slight crossover with chainsaw man because I needed a mentor figure who is not known in Jujutsu Kaisen. I do not own any of the characters from Jujutsu Kaisen or Chainsaw Man. The characters belong to Gege Akutami as the creator of Jujutsu Kaisen and Tatsuki Fujimoto as the creator of Chainsaw Man. I only own the story plot of this work of fiction. I will also mix in a written story for the plot so it's not just the SMAU story. Also english isn't my first language so excuse any grammar errors in the story (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ)

"Geto..."

You arrived at the park near the shrine to find Geto sitting on one of the swings. It was late and night and the quiet atmosphere felt heavy with unspoken words and lingering emotions.

You sensed that he's a bit agitated, and you offered your hand in front of him, trying to lift up his mood through physical contact with your cursed technique.

"Geto?"

"Don't try to lift up my mood now Y/N. Let me... Stay this way for a bit." Geto's voice came out in a weary whisper, his eyes fixed on the ground, avoiding the comfort you offered. You retrieved back your hand and sighed as you sat down on the swing next to him.

"I'm here for you if you want to... Talk your feelings out. I'm listening." you reassured him, "I'm not going anywhere."

"... But you are." Geto spoke up in a somber tone.

"I just... don’t understand why you can’t let me visit. I mean, I thought... At least we're getting closer.” Geto looked away.

The tension tightened in the air as you took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his frustration seep into you.

“It’s not that simple, Geto. It's not that I don't trust you...” the words caught in your throat as were unable to continue and think of a fair excuse for him.

"Is it because I'm not strong enough? Are people after you? Is it because I failed in protecting someone else?" His grip tightened on the swing’s ropes, the weight of past failures gripped around him like chains.

"No, no! That's not the case Geto!" you rised to squat in front of him.

"Geto, look at me."

Reluctantly, Geto shifted his gaze slightly, the walls he built flickering under the warmth of your expression, as if trying not to give in to your kindness and hold on to his pain that was evident in his expression.

"Suguru." the gentle calling of his first name pushed him to look at you. His gaze softened at you, but you could tell he was shaking inside.

"... I'm just... Scared that I'm going to lose you." his voice softened, vulnerability seeping in, "I have already lost someone right in front of my eyes... And if I lose you too, I don't know if I can stay sane... I’d rather face the danger with you than be left all alone again in the dark waiting for you to come back.".

His words hung in the air, a mixture of hope and desperation swirling between them like the cool night breeze.

"Oh Geto." your eyes searched for his, and when he finally met yours, you can read him like an open book.

"I'm really sorry for the things that has happened in the past... But please, don't blame yourself for everything that had happened... I believe you've always fought for what you believe in, and it's not because you're not strong enough." you slowly wrapped your arms around him, giving him a warm embrace as you calm him down,

"I know you’re doing your best to stick to your principles, and you are trying your best to protect those you can protect. And I'm so proud of you, Geto.".

Geto held you closer as he burried his face into your embrace, as if to hide his expression. You always knew the right thing to say to calm his anxiety. No cursed technique could soothe him quite like the sound of your voice wrapped around him, your unwavering support grounding him through dark nights.

In that moment, it became clear—he needed you, and he hoped that the need was mutual.

"I promise I'll talk to my grandpa about visiting. I'll let you know when you can visit." you circled his back, "I'll also let you know when I'm visiting Tokyo."

Your embrace lingered just a moment longer before you released Geto, allowing him to breathe beneath the weight of unspoken thoughts still lingering in his mind.

"... I appreciate you being here, more than you understand, Y/N." Geto mumbled, a hint of yearning and vulnerability that made your heart ache for him.

You smiled, returning to your swing, "I'm glad I can help.".

"Sometimes, I wonder if I deserve to have someone like you in my life," Geto continued, his tone filled with sincerity but also uncertainty.

“Maybe this—whatever this is between us—will find a better time to grow.” he let out a small bittersweet chuckle, the ambiguity in his words tugged at your heart, leaving a fluttering feeling of nervousness.

"You don’t have to think like that," you replied gently, searching his eyes for clarity. “You deserve happiness, and I want you to know you’re more than enough.”.

Geto nodded slowly, his expression darkening slightly as he looked away. You sensed that he's contemplating, opening his mouth as if words are stuck in his mouth.

"I'll wait for you." almost a whisper, "I want to be there when the time comes. I think that’s how I see my future." Something in his tone hinted at a deeper commitment that made your heart flutter.

"Geto..." you understand his implications, one that seemed to resonate beyond mere friendship. "I..."

"You don't have to answer now... I just... Wanted to let you know." Geto's expression fell slightly, maybe it's because he was afraid of your rejection. You could see the hope mingled with fear in his expression, and it tugged at your heartstrings.

"Come on, it's getting late. I'll walk you back," he said, his tone shifting to a more casual demeanor, carefully distracting the topic that made the atmosphere awkward just now.

As you two started to walk, you were gathering your thoughts. A part of you wanted to reach out, to pull him back and confront the feelings but the other part understood what responsibilities you have lays ahead.

The two of you walked side by side, each step felt heavier with the tension lingering in the silence.

"Geto," you finally broke the quiet, your voice soft yet steady. "What you said… it means a lot to me. I just need time to think about it."

He glanced at you, a flicker of understanding and sorrow passing through his eyes. "I get it. I don’t want to rush you into anything. I just wanted you to know where I stand."

"But..." you continued, "You deserve someone who can fully be there for you, someone. I don’t want you to risk losing it while waiting for something that might not come. Three years is a long time to wait, and I don’t want to lead you on, making promises that might not hold true."

"... Three years?" his tone catching you off guard. Geto turned to you, eyes wide with a mixture of curiosity and hope.

It was an accidental slip, the words spilling out before you could catch them. You hadn’t meant to suggest that there was a possibility of something more after that time frame.

“Um... I mean, after you graduate from high school, I mean! maybe…” You stumbled over your words, trying to navigate the implications of what you had just blurted out. “I didn’t mean to imply that you should wait specifically for me or anything!! It’s just… it’s a long time, and I mean...”

Geto's expression shifted, "So you mean... there’s a shot at this after three years?”

“Three years,” he repeated, a thoughtful smile creeping onto his face. “That’s not so bad. I can handle waiting even if it’s just a sliver of hope for the future.”

"No! I want you to have a life that’s not waiting for something that may not be certain. I-" you trailed off when Geto's gaze softened at you, a slight blush crept into your cheeks.

"Well... I didn't... mean it like that..." you stammered, your heart racing as you tried to recover, "I just meant that once you have graduated, maybe then we'll be ready to think about…"

"About us?" the tension became lighter, almost playful as Geto smirked, teasing you along the way.

"Maybe! Just maybe. It’s just a thought. I don’t want you to set your sights on something that may not happen.” you said, trying to stop this conversation before it spiraled into something bigger.

"Alright. I won't." he mused, a smile breaking across his face as he mumbled "Three years... "

"Alright then, thanks for walking me back," you said, trying to lighten the mood.

Geto smiled, a hint of his usual warmth returning. "That’s what friends are for, right? Besides, I’d never let you walk home alone at night. It’s too dangerous out here."

His protective nature stirred something within you, a reminder of just how much he cared.

"Good night, Geto." you said softly, offering a small smile, hoping to convey the warmth you felt despite the complexity of the situation.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he replied, his voice in a lighter tone.

As you turned to enter your home, the reality of the moment settled into the silence. Maybe, just maybe, three years could lead to something beautiful, and until then, the bond you shared would continue to grow in unexpected ways.

taglist: @inthedarkshadows000

author's note: 2 more chapters to go!

[cloudymistedskies]

MARI’S BACKSTORY ☁️

To keep things in mind:

- Mari’s backstory is in her perspective, meaning some important aspects are left out since she doesn’t know them (yet).

- This will be unnecessarily long.

As much as Mari could remember, she didn’t live a completely terrible life, but not a good one either. Her parents (mostly) neglected her well-being, especially her mother who doesn’t even bother looking at her in the eye, and people in the village she lived in avoided her for some odd reason.

Amongst that, she only had one person who took care of her and loved her and that was her older sister, Riko. She raised her and took care of everything she needed, and treated her with affection and care. With the lack of parental love and having nobody else to care for her her besides Riko, she developed a co-dependent relationship with her, practically relying on her for everything.

Riko then would one day suddenly leave the village when she was 7 with no further reason aside from ‘working to get money’ and left Mari to be cared for by her father, who only did the ‘bare minimum’ which was feeding her. Being left all by herself (at least that’s how Mari felt), she was scared of showing any sort of vulnerability to anybody around her and began to show more aggression and hostility to anybody that isn’t her sister.

Riko would still occasionally visit the village to check up on Mari every once in a while. But whenever she isn’t around, Mari spends most of her time exploring the mountains near her village or the forest and befriending bugs/insects she spots.

Then when she was 8 years old, during her usual exploration around the mountains, Mari got distracted by something, which then leads her to getting injured and lost around the mountains. She was spotted by the Tokito dad who was chopping off wood and seeing a lost injured little girl, he immediately went to go help her.

It was difficult at first, since Mari tried to fight him off, fearing that he was gonna hurt her but he eventually somehow managed to calm her and took her into the shack where she met the Tokito twins and their mom.

After treating her injuries, the parents left to find more herbs to treat Mari with, leaving her with the twins. Muichiro was curious and excited to see another person his age, trying to make conversation with her despite the girl not responding to anything he said and keeping quiet. Yuichiro tried to tell him to leave her be, but he refused and kept talking to her.

Mari was anxious as she was in a different place and was unfamiliar with any of them. In an attempt to get away from Muichiro, she tried to stand up, but the injuries didn’t recover yet and resulted in her feeling a sharp pain around her leg, causing both the twins and Mari to panic.

Muichiro immediately tried to help her out, and Mari was about to push him away and refuse but he managed to catch her arm in time and with a soft smile, he assured her that he won’t hurt her and just needed to see if she’s okay.

The genuine kindness in his eyes reminded her of her sister, making her realize that the family wasn’t trying to hurt her and was genuinely helping her out. So reluctantly, for the first time let herself be vulnerable for just a moment.

Ever since her first meet with the family, Mari became a frequent visitor to their shack, spending most of her time there when Riko wasn’t visiting and bonding with the family. It was the first time she experienced feeling welcomed from anybody aside from her sister.

Then the Tokito parents died when when her and the twins were 10. Their relationship became a little strained (especially with Yuichiro), but she still visited to at least either accompany them or help out with anything. Yuichiro refused any of her help, which upsets Mari.

She hated feeling useless. Hated that she wasn’t good at even basic house chores or lacked any talent. Mari wanted to feel useful, to have a purpose to fulfill.

And she was granted that wish when she was 11 and went out during night to admire the moon that looked bigger than usual. As she walked up to the mountains for a better look, she spotted a rabbit and with typical curiosity chased it.

The rabbit escaped, leaving her disappointed. But that disappointment would quickly turn into fear when she heard the bushes rustling and spotted something that looked.. both human but also not human..? That was what she described in her head.

The creature then tackled her, prompting Mari to instinctively stab it using a knife she was carrying around for self defense. Hitting it directly at a vital spot before barely managing to push away and run off. Turning back, she became more confused and scared when she sees that the creature was still chasing her even after she stabbed him.

Mari finds herself cornered and just as she thought she was about to die, somebody came to the rescue. Wielding a sword in her hands, a young woman shielded her from the creature, telling her to go hide while she takes care of the creature.

Scared for her life, Mari did what the woman asked and hid herself in the bushes, covering her ears in fear while hoping it’ll all be over soon. Eventually, she heard footsteps and slowly looking up, she notices it was the same woman who saved her, asking if she’s okay.

After ensuring that Mari was okay, she offered her to take her back to the village after some small talk, which the younger girl agreed and the pair started making their way back to the village.

On their way there, The woman explained to Mari about demon slayers and what role they serve as one. Surprisingly to Mari, her interest was piqued when she said she was a demon slayer. As if she was drawn into it. When they arrived to the village, Mari remarked that her uniform looked similar to what her sister wears usually. That remark made the young woman confused for a moment before realizing what she’s saying and told her that it would mean her sister is a fellow demon slayer.

That information surprised Mari. It was no wonder she’s busy, has a sword with her, and even has a crow that talks and delivers letters to Mari. After being taken to her home, the girl was stuck with a thought of being a demon slayer like her sister. She made a plan of following the crow who delivers her sister’s letters, believing that it’ll lead her to her current whereabouts.

She didn’t mind running away. She knew her parents wouldn’t even notice her sudden disappearance. But she was worried about leaving the twins behind, especially since they’re in a bad place after their parents death.

Mari didn’t wanna just suddenly abandon them, but then she thought more about it. Along with being by her sister’s side, she could possibly finally have some use, even protect the twins from any dangers from demons. And for some reason, something about it just drew her in. Those reasons were enough to motivate her to become a demon slayer.

After a week passed, she ran away during night, following wherever the crow was going and eventually being lead to an estate.

Instead of meeting her sister, she met an old guy, Genkichi. He recognized Mari as Riko’s younger sister and took her in the estate. After some quick talk and informing her that Riko is out for a week long mission, Mari then asked him to train her, which the guy was surprised by the request and hesitated.

At first he was denying her, but after some time he reluctantly gave into her wishes. Genkichi was surprised of how quickly Mari learned, especially for somebody whose only 11 years old. It was intriguing for him.

Riko eventually returned and was shocked and bewildered to see Mari training to be a demon slayer, let alone being here as well. Definitely, she didn’t approve on her being one, but Genkichi convinced her to let her be; explaining that Mari is unusually talented for someone her age. Riko reluctantly gave in, still not agreeing with the idea but their mentor was pretty stubborn.

Throughout out the months, Mari was trained under Riko and Genkichi. Despite her odd talent with swordsmanship for her age, she wasn’t able to learn wind breathing. This disappointed her greatly since she knew that being a strong demon slayer meant that she has to know how to use breathing forms.

Then one day, while asleep, she finds herself in a ‘dream’ where a young woman was training as a demon slayer like she was. The young woman used a breathing technique called ‘Cloud breathing’ and performing a form of it.

After waking up, she still has vivid memories of the dream. Wanting to test it out, Mari decided to try performing the same form. It took a few attempts, but much to her surprise, she successfully performed it. Mari was ecstatic about it, and ever since then, she’s been sleeping more frequently to learn more forms of Cloud Breathing, more determined than ever.

After just 9 months of training, Mari took the final selection exam. After the exam, she slept for a whole day. During her time sleeping, she finds herself in a field of clouds. She walked for several minutes, eventually finding a familiar figure.

The woman that she dreamt of. The same woman who was the reason why Mari knew Cloud Breathing in the first place. The same woman called out to her, beckoning her to come closer. Mari was hesitant, but she complied, eventually facing her.

The woman was called Harumi, and explained to Mari that she made Cloud Breathing. She was very much impressed of Mari learning it as Cloud breathing, as it wasn’t as easy to master it, let alone learn it due to it’s picky requirements.

Harumi told the young girl that she was special, that she was born strong to fulfill some form of use, to fulfill a purpose. And that purpose she has to fulfill was killing the uppermoon one.

Her soft tone, the praises, and the seemingly genuine kindness, everything felt real to Mari. She felt obligated to accept it. It was for the first time she could actually prove she actually has some use.

Ever since that dream, Mari was now more motivated in being a demon slayer, determined to fulfill her purpose and become as strong as she could. She was happier than ever now that she has her sister by her side. But the question still lies: Will her happiness last?

Taisho Era Secrets regarding Mari:

- Mari joined the same Final Selection exam as Muichiro (and Aoi). Surprisingly enough, Mari didn’t know that, nor does she even remember the people who attended that time aside from Aoi.

- The bow Mari is wearing was gifted to her by Riko when she was around 12. It holds a special place for her.

- Along that, Riko also made her haori!

- At some point, Mari would meet her relatives during a mission, which would significantly improve Mari’s happiness.

This is so unnecessarily long, nobody is gonna read this istg

Word count: 1762

This isn't art, but its Mari's backstory so !!!: @larz-barz @kimetsu-chan @rion-isnot-an-ai @pinkwisteria @kiiroibarathedragontamer @sunnilovesgrilledcheese

[the--rebel--fae]

The Stars Made It So Midorima Shintaro x F! Reader

A/n: Hey everyone, I know I still have a few requests I need to get to and the Hazbin Hotel story, but to get the creativity flowing I thought a few one shots would be a good idea! So I hope yall enjoy it!

A soft tune fluttered through the Shintaro household as a young woman moved about in the kitchen, working on what appeared to be a pasta dish of some sort. You continued to hum the tune as you moved about stirring the pot every so often and readying other ingredients as needed.

Then, before you could continue onto the next steps of the meal, your focus was broken by a soft tug of your pant leg. Looking down, a soft smile graced your features as you stared into the adorable features of your young ten-year-old daughter, Shina.

“Hey sweetie, do you need something? Dinner will be ready soon.”

She just shook her head, making her shoulder-length forest green locks swish back and forth. Her big (E/c) eyes looked up at you with a soft determination. “I wanna ask you something about you and Daddy. Daddy won’t give me a straight answer because he’s a—” she paused for a minute, trying to figure out the right word. “Tsun-Tsun!” She said with a pout.

You tried to suppress the giggle that found its way to your lips. You should probably tell her not to repeat the things you call Midorima, but it was too darn adorable hearing that phrase from her lips. “What do you want to ask that Daddy won’t answer for you?”

Shina let out a sigh. “Well, I have to write a report on my parents for school, so I wanted to find out how you and Daddy started dating. But when I asked him, all he said was ‘The stars made it so.’” She said, mocking how Midorima talked.

This time, you let the laugh loose. Well, he wasn’t entirely wrong. Stars did have a hand in it, but not how Shina thought. Taking Shina by the hand, you led her over to a nearby love seat. “Well, your father wasn’t entirely wrong. Stars did have a hand in it in a way.”

Shina gave a confused noise and looked down at her hands in her lap. “What do you mean, Momma?”

“Well, it all started back when your father and I were in high school. I was the manager of the school his basketball team competed against—Seirin, so we came across each other quite a bit.”

***

“(Y/n)! Watch out!” You heard Teppei yell out. But it was too late you looked up from your manager's clipboard and out towards the court…only to be greeted with a basketball to the face.

Letting out a very unladylike grunt as you pushed yourself back up from the bench. “Alright, that ball had better be a stray ball from my team and not from a certain over certain and uptight broccoli head. Or there will be hell to pay.” You growled out efficiently, scaring Koga and the others on the bench with you.

“Tch. What have I told you? If you do not carry the lucky item for---” the source of your annoyance paused. “ what was your star sign again?"

You grumbled your reply.

"Ah, yes. You are bound to have bad day after bad day. And be practically a magnetic force for stray basketballs.”

Riko handed you an ice pack, and you took it gratefully. Then, with a bit of effort, you stood from the bench and stomped over to your sole source of irritation and the plague of your thoughts ever since Seiren’s first game up against Shotoku—Midorima Shintaro. The boy with an amazing amount of OCD, a penchant for relying on the “stars” for his good fortune, and as much as you hated to admit a phenomenal ability to shoot from literally anywhere and make it in almost every time.

“A magnet? Really? Well, this wouldn’t happen if you and your guys would be more careful while playing! And—” you threw a glance at Kagami. “If someone was more aware of his own surroundings too.”

“Hey!”

Midorima merely sighed and went over to Shotoku’s bench and retrieved what looked like a small, gold, and blue circular box. Then, after pushing up his glasses like he always does, he handed it to you. You took it in your hands, but as you looked up at him not only in confusion but to ask Midorima what this object was, you noticed something very interesting on the greenette’s face.

Was…that….

A blush?

Was the Generation of Miracle's top shooter blushing? Just by giving a box?

“Well, are you going to see what it is or just keep staring at it? There is only so much time in a time out, and you are wasting it.”

Tch. He never changes, does he? You opened the box, and inside it, was a small yet rather cute astrodome. One of those light dome things, that when the lights are off in a room, you turn that thing on, and it shows you all of the stars in the night sky.

“But Midorima why—”

“It is simply your lucky item. Maybe with this, you will no longer be as clumsy as you are or a magnet for basketballs.”

Your lip curled up slightly. “I really don’t know whether or not to take that as a compliment or an insult, but thank you, Midorima.”

He shook his head and waved you off. “I merely wanted to offer a meager gift, is all. Something for helping me find my lucky item back when we first met.”

You smiled softly. Heh, yea, that was before I knew what an infuriating broccoli head you are. You thought. But, he does have a few good characteristics, and if you were, to be honest—handsome as well. Not that you would ever say that to his face.

“And he wanted to try to find an excuse to try to ask you out too (Y/n)- Chan! But since he probably would chicken out, I’m here to give him a shove. So, you can say that basketball to the face was kinda my fault, sorry.” Takao said with a snicker.

You felt your cheeks warm, and you immediately met Shintaro’s eyes with the same look of shock, although you were pretty sure he was redder than you at that moment. “Uhm, is this true Shintaro?”

Apparently, the use of his first name throws him off even more, but regardless, he let out an irritated huff and adjusted his glasses. “No use in hiding it, I suppose. Yes, the blundering idiot—”

“Hey!”

“—Is correct. I did and do intend to ask if you would like to accompany me to dinner. Perhaps tonight after the game?”

You let out a giggle and nod. “Who would have known that you were so irritating because you liked me all this time. You really are a Tsundere. But yes Shintaro I’d love to go out with you.”

***

Shina smiled and giggled. “So, I guess Daddy was right after all.”

“I usually am.”

Your head whipped towards the staircase to see your lovely Tsundere husband leaning against the railing with a small smile on his face. “Have you been here the whole time hun?”

Shintaro pushed off of the railing and walked over to the two of you. “I came down just as you were to the part where you were telling our child that I was a Tsundere and had to use Takao to ask you out.” He said with a small chuckle.

“Eh heh. Well, he did help you out in a way.”

“I suppose. But if we have to get down to the bare bones of it. I believe it was—”

“Predestined that we ended up together. I know, love.” You finished for him and gave him a quick peck on the lips.

“Eww. Momma!” Shina complained.

You and Shintaro just giggled at your daughter’s antics.

Predestined or not, you guess you and Shintaro truly did end up dating because the “Stars made it so.”

A/n: How'd you guys like that? I love Kuroko no Basket it's such a good anime and so underrated. If any of yall have any requests I'm more than happy to hear them and write them! Or if you want your own personal fully fleshed out fan fiction I have an etsy shop where you can buy longer stories and stories of all kinds! Just click the link below!

[bisexualchaosdemon]

Do you think Jean is sex repulsed as a result of his trauma? The way he’s actively trying to repress his feelings of attraction to people is giving sex repulsed

I'll preface this by saying that I am in no way and expert of these things, but I wouldn't say that, no. He clearly experiences sexual attraction, and it's not that he doesn't want to act on it; it's more that he's scared? But would I be me if I didn't provide excessive evidence? No, let's gooooo

(The Sunshine Court, ch.11)

I think it's only fitting to start with Jean's beach party bi panic™️ he refers to his attraction to Laila as inappropriate and his attraction to Jeremy as dangerous. He's not disgusted by it, though? He just doesn't seem to think he's allowed to feel that way. He seems more frustrated than anything, I think. He's giving 'why is everyone fucking hot?!' vibes, like he thinks it's cruel because he thinks he's not allowed to do anything about it?

I do think that it's interesting that he doesn't deny it when confronted about it, though. Like, Jeremy straight up (no pun intended) calls him out on his very poorly concealed sexuality and he didn't bother to even try lying.

(The Sunshine Court, Ch.12)

Jean being unable to lie to Jeremy is a common theme, which I could rant about separately, but Jean caring more about Lucas insulting Jeremy's integrity than his friends knowing he's bi doesn't scream disgust or aversion to me. In fact, I may go as far as to say that this suggests that he isn't trying all that hard to repress his sexuality in the first place.

Jumping onto the next chapter, we've got some more of Jean's idea of what he is 'allowed' and him actively testing that boundary, just a tiny bit.

(The Sunshine Court, Ch.13)

Jean-Yves, my precious baby boy, you are allowed to feel how you feel! Personally, this isn't giving me sex repulsed vibes either, though. Yet again, this isn't about what he wants, it's about what he is allowed (Riko, I hope you are burning in hell 💕).

But even with the belief that he isn't allowed to be attracted to Jeremy, Jean still dips his toe in, just the tiniest bit. I'm hoping this is a taste of what's to come, and Jean will feel more able to try things as Jeremy continues to prove that their attraction to each other isn't inherently unsafe. The fact that he's testing it at all, and that he seems happy with the outcome, suggests to me that he may be open to trying things once he feels safe.

For my final point, we're sticking with chapter 13 for sex toy gate!

It might just be me, but this reaction doesn't give 'sex repulsed'. It's giving kid being teased by his friend or mortified by their older sibling. It's iconic, it's hilarious, he's a blushy little boy. I really hope that we see something more about this in tsc2. I think that, once he is done dying of embarrassment, Laila's thinking might not be too far off.

Riko is dead, Tetsuji is gone, Jean isn't imprisoned in the Nest anymore. He is free and safe to explore his sexuality and I think/hope we will get to see Jean realise this in the future. It has the potential to be really beautiful.

[hxhhasmysoul]

Hey, I read your analysis on yuuji sukuna and i loved it and i was craving for more so do you have anything more to add into. Like why sukuna is being this handsy to yuji Or keeps talking to yuji although yuuji mostly ignores him.. It reminded me how gojo was trying to do the same thing to sukuna but didn't get much response yorozu too But in yuuji's case their positions have been reversed to the point I am feeling embarrassed on his behalf. 😭😭

I think being embarrassed on his behalf makes sense. He’s really showing his emotions like that.

Sukuna didn’t respond to people who didn’t challenge his convictions.

He was used to being challenged by other sorcerers in the Heian era, they even ganged up on him then to defeat him and it seems like they failed then. And it seems that back then, like in the modern times the cult of strength was what governed the sorcery world. 

Sukuna was surprised that Gojou wasn’t the boss of the modern jujutsu world but Gojou actually misled him about that in a sense. Because Gojou kinda was the boss of the jujutsu world, not the official one but he could do whatever he wanted. Maybe what happened to Riko and Getou made him think that he shouldn’t take over by force. Maybe it was paired up with the thought that if he kills the elders he’d actually need to do some administrative work and take some responsibility for his actions which he avoids at all costs all the time. 

So maybe his plan to train devoted child soldiers to take over the jujutsu world stems from his laziness. Maybe getting Megumi as his first child soldier made him think he hit the jackpot because Megumi has the personality ripe to be turned into a professional bureaucrat. 

Sorry for the tangent, back to Sukuna. 

Sukuna was also revered in the past, like Gojou in the present. He also existed kinda on the side of the official power structure. Crowned the strongest and feared and worshipped, but not exactly in charge. Probably also because he didn’t care about ruling, he preferred to look down on everyone, like Gojou. 

Unlike Gojou he wasn’t worshipped from the day he was born. His mother was likely poor, she possibly was scared of him when he was born and abandoned him. Or the people around her forced her to abandon him. 

And he still ended up on top. He still became worshipped. He’s very much “what’s your excuse” towards the weak. But he also has no illusions about those who are strongish from his point of view. Those people suck up to him, want to add him to their power, want his attention and acknowledgement. He doesn’t respect that. He has no interest in their selfish goals.

Yuuji doesn’t care about him, so he feels like he needs to get to the bottom of that. Also Yuuji is now becoming a serious threat to him in ways that none of those selfish people ever were. 

Yuuji is of his bloodline but so different from him. He is something Sukuna surely has potential of being. 

I think Sukuna has always seen himself as the peak form of being Sukuna. That after absorbing his twin and possibly locking his soul inside himself, he has then perfected himself. He’s got exceptional knowledge of jujutsu rivalled and possibly surpassed only by Kenjaku’s and Tengen’s. His body is very strong. He’s an amazing strategist. 

But Yuuji has the potential of being more than him. And the difference is in personality. Kusakabe may dis Yuuji all he wants and pretend Yuuji has nothing special to him. But the fact that Yuuji is still sane after so many body swaps, or how quickly he’d learned everything before they figured out that he can be swapped into. Sukuna wasn’t fucking training him. Sukuna was doing everything to break Yuuji’s spirit. 

And he failed. The whole jujutsu world threw everything it could to destroy Yuuji and they failed. 

That’s why he’s so focused on Yuuji. That’s why Higuruma briefly caught his interest, because Higuruma also had convictions that weren’t in line with the jujutsu world’s norm. That’s why Maki also interests him, because she a) is curious for his jujutsu nerd side, b) she has also persevered and achieved incredible strength despite being rejected by the jujutsu world. The world that elevated and worshiped him, that bolstered his philosophy is crumbling in front of him and the people who are challenging him truly are the antithesis of that world. And Sukuna is nothing but curious. Especially of this kinda version of him that’s the first person that’s actually hurting him badly and is actually close to killing him. 

As to being handsy. 

What I think the canon reason to be: Sukuna is drawn to Yuuji and wants to see how he hurts Yuuji, wants to see his suffering but also wants to study him, understand him. 

What my shipper heart says: he’s missing how close they used to be and he subconsciously wants to be close again. 

[yatsurinamikaze]

Ch 3. Feel it Still.

Summary > One > Two > Three > Four

Aomine Daiki x Reader [MDNI]

Aomine groans as he wakes up, stretching his arms, Well no practice at least. He rubs and squints his eyes as he sees a tail wagging at the edge of his bed. Wha- “I was wondering you could take care of Tetsuya 2 since you won’t be playing for a couple of days.” Kuroko talks calmly, looking up at him in anticipation. “Yeah sure.”

The bell goes off in Aomine’s head, Wait a second. His brain short circuits, as he looks between Kuroko and Tetsuya 2 subsequently. ”What-how- WHEN DID YOU GET IN.”

Kuroko just smiles and puts Tetsuya 2 on Aomine’s lap. “Thank you.” Momoi speaks from the other end of the room,”Riko said you should still be there.”“ Aomine short circuits again, “You are here too?!!”

Momoi giggles as Aomine grumbles, “Remind me to change my locks.”

“You will be there right?” Momoi Satsuki, who is the chief analyst of the Basketball Association, studies his expression tilting her head. Normally Aomine would have skipped, since what’s the point of going if you can’t play ball but your pretty face pops into his head and he responds, “Yeah, whatever.” As he scratches the back of his neck.

To his dismay, you don’t show up at the practice, something about recovering from jetlag and sleeping in late. To his further dismay, he was now the errand boy for the group.

“Hey Mine-chin, can you get some fruit chuppets for me? Im not feeling it without ‘em today. And since you’re not doing anything..” Murasakibara trails off in his usual jarring tone. “And if you’re getting those, can you also get some Sparkling Water, Aominechhi?” Kise peeps from behind Murasakibara. Aomine gives them the death stare and soon, there’s a list of errands he has to run for everyone.

He groans and starts dragging his feet to the supermarket along with Tetsuya 2. Upon paying for all the things he just bought, his phone dings. “Can you get my knee pads? - My apartment is on the way. The door code is 458902” - Kagami. Great. Him too. He rolls his eyes. Just keeps getting worse this day.

He starts making his way with the little pup following him enthusiastically.

Meanwhile, at your place, you step out of the cold shower with a towel wrapped around yourself, the ends of your hair still dripping wet. You finally feel better from sleeping in late and taking the cold shower. You blast music on max volume, Feel it Still playing as you rock along the beat.

You start grooving to the music, your feet and body moves animatedly pretending to be a sexy dancer. You bend down and pick up your panties from your suitcase, you get up sexily with your hips moving in circular motion, you do a final hairlip as you get up.

You flip around to your make-believe audience, with your left hand on your waist and right hand raised holding your panties. You scream in shock as you see the same blue-haired male standing in front of you, same shock etched on his face, his mouth open in bewilderment.

Your mind is racing like the wind and face is getting red in embarrassment. You watch him slowly close his mouth and gulp. You both look at each other in stupor, unable to form words.

As the music dies down, the silence pierces through the room, breaking the stupor. Your eyebrows start scrunching up in anger, and he takes it as a queue to look away from you, you can see a red hue forming on his cheeks. You fold your arms, “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I uh-“ Before he could finish, he’s interrupted by a loud shriek, he looks back at you only to find you on top of the coffee table pointing at Tetsuya 2, “What the hell is that?” You notice the little pup and start freaking out, you have never been a dog person, and are scared shitless of them.

Tetsuya 2 on the other hand just wags his tail and pounces around the coffee table trying to get to you. Aomine starts laughing looking at the scene in front of him, his eyes forming tears.

“What the hell are you laughing at” You scream as you jump from one couch to the other. “Take it back!!”

At this point Tetsuya 2 manages to jump on your couch. Shrieking, you jump from that couch to the one near Aomine, but right before your take off, Tetsuya 2 bites down on your towel.

Aomine’s eyes become wide as you jump onto him, completely naked, shrieking and putting your arms around him, his basketball reflexes catching you bridal style. He freezes as he looks down at you, naked, drenched, and in his arms. Your hair dripping water onto your soft body. You are breathing hard, your eyes are closed in fear.

Aomine chuckles and commands Tetsuya 2, “Hey 2, sit.”

You open one eye and see the pup sitting down, wagging his tail, no longer jumping on you.

You sigh in relief and look up at Aomine, still in his hold, and then back to your body. You shriek watching yourself completely naked and get off Aomine in a hurry. “S-stop looking!”

Aomine turns around trying to control his laughter, he walks to the pup taking the towel clutched between the pup’s teeth and handing it you, with his back still turned towards you. You quickly take it and wrap it around yourself. He picks up Tetsuya 2 in his hands.

“And what exactly are you doing here?” You walk back to your suitcase. “Don’t look.” You pick up a sweatpant and a loose hoody.

“I came here to get Kagami’s knee pads. He forgot ‘em here.” Aomine states with his back turned to you. You quickly put the clothes on you. “Im done.”

Aomine turns around to look at you, little pup smiling in his hold. “Aomine Daiki”

“Y/n L/n.” You open the drawer and toss the knee pads at Aomine.

He catches ‘em,”Nice to meet ya.” He says with a shit-eating grin.

“Yeah, whatever. Close the door on your way out.” You speak calmly, trying to act cool, as if nothing happened.

He walks towards the door, when he turns around, “Im uh-..Im sorry about the..whole thing”

“Cool.” You shrug looking away.

The door clicks as he exits.

“Ughhhhh” You groan loudly and lie face down on the couch, burying your face in the pillow. You’re embarrassed as hell, and start screaming into the pillow, “The fuck! The fuck! The fuck!” You groan once more.

You hear someone clearing their throat, and you look up from the pillow, your eyes blowing out of their sockets. He’s still here. Just kill me already.

“I-uh. I forgot to take the groceries.” He says with the shit-eating grin.

“Just leave.”

He quickly picks up the groceries and winks at you before turning back to open the door.

“And never come back again.”

“Sure thing.” He says while leaving. You can feel him grinning and are staring daggers on his back. The door clicks shut.

You groan, “I hate this life.” And bury your head in the pillow again.

~

Summary > One > Two > Three > Four

Author’s Note:

- I hope it came out as hilarious as I imagined it in my head. :D

- Interaction is my motivation juice. Taglist is open.

[rikomoriyama01]

Hellooo!! If Riko had managed to live long enough to go pro, would he have ended up killing himself? Or would he have learned how to work with others? Given failed Ravens tend to commit suicide, and there's only so far he could've gotten before losing a game, I'm wondering if he would've gotten better or not. (I also think he'd get burnt out on exy eventually, but that's just my personal headcanon). Okay, goodbye! 👋

I'm too lazy to find old asks relating to this but we chatted about many options id like to start this by acknowledging that everything is possible , since in canon he just got shot we as fan can have fun and explore all possibilities, none of which will be more canon that others, people are dynamic creatures and just because some people might react certain way to things will not mean that this would be right answer to a question. he can get better, he can get worse, suicide feels like very natural progression considering everything but that would be short story to tell. my favourite takes on riko's future is that he would reinvent himself, struggle for years , try to recover, fail stumble and fall. Maybe succeed in the end? Unable to fly always weighted by his past, or maybe spreading his wings against all that because this is my story now and i get to make it into power fantasy. there is no one right answer, i could ramble whole day about the hundreds of aus my brain hatched over years story where riko ends up homeless but still scared of death holding onto edge of knife just not to succumb, its miserable its sad its realistic so many bad things can happen story where he ends up proud father of bunch of unwanted teenagers he choose to adopt with his wife me and @jtl-fics mused about in dm a lot, still one of my faves. because while taking care of little kids would be hard for him he could learn to understand teenagers, who are usually unwanted , its okay he wants them and wants to make them feel wanted. story where he ends up in metal hospital for years fades away till ichirou decided he needs him for whatever reason yeah suicide is most likely outcome but not the most interesting storey one could write with this character i like to bend and break everything just to see in how many ways i can reshape his story into something happy, i'm a bit bored of angst by now