#had to exorcise this sentence from my brain

[roychewtoy]

[yandere-sins]

I'm not sure how thirsty our thirsts are allowed to be but I just stumbled upon your ghost oc from the halloween thingy while searching ghost from cod and WHAT?!?!?!?! Listen....all I'm going to say is 💦💦💦💦🥵🥵🥵 that is literally the best smut I've ever read in my ENTIRE life and I've been reading smut since about the 2000s. Would you be interested in continuing that piece or for writing an additional part? Maybe when they come to the apartment for the exorcism, they try 'channeling' or calling to the ghost to come, but he's fucking reader the entire time right infront of the roomate and officiate? My brain is thinking it would be so sexy if there was a glitch and he was visible for half a second but that can't be right....right? Why else would your roommates see a tall, sexy man taking you from behind at such a time? Must be a trick of the light! I love the perspective you write in and how even though this very supernatural sex scene was happening, you didn't describe it in a confusing or overly complex way. Your way of describing things, especially naughty things just hit different. It was extremely enjoyable! And so freaking hot!!!!! Seriously, there isn't a lot of content out like that so you're literally an angel for providing us with that haha. Going to give myself an anon name here, is 👻 available? Ahem, no reason why I chose that emoji hehe

Aww, I'm so glad you enjoyed it! It was a lot of fun to write :D Not sure I am always as clear when describing smth, but I'm doing my best! Thansk for you sweet ask and nice request, I hope you enjoy this story as well! ♥

Disclaimer: I don't speak latin. I google translatored this. Warning: Yandere, Heavy Sexual Content, Biting

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

"Dele omne mal-- ah--!"

"Malum, Baby. If you want to erase all evil, you gotta say your words right~"

It was hard enough to read the little pamphlet in your hands with your body shaking like crazy, thanks to the thick cock plowing into you with every word you were saying. You could have really forgone the condescending nitpicking of the ghost you were trying to exorcise, but you weren't that lucky.

"Malum," Eli whispered, leaning over to you and raising an eyebrow you could see even in the sparse flickering of the candles around you. They couldn't ask, not wanting to disturb the ritual you three had initiated. Still, their gaze alone silently questioned your inability to perform your part properly, even more shame washing over you.

"M-Malum," you finally finished your sentence, giving them an apologetic glance before lowering your head to avoid any more eye contact. You wanted them to notice this bastard of a ghost as soon as possible so they'd believe you, but at the same time, you were too embarrassed to be caught by them like this.

Aside from Eli, another person had joined you in this strange rite meant to banish the evil from your apartment. A guy named Brian, who seemed to really believe in this stuff despite being unable to see the ghost haunting you either. You had held your breath when you entered the apartment together with him, wondering what his reaction would be to seeing the spirit clinging onto you almost instantly, rubbing his cock against your ass and whispering lewd nothings into your ear.

But Brian made a grand show of convincing Eli that the apartment had bad 'juju', and needed cleansing immediately, which, strangely, your roommate believed him without any doubts. It only gave the ghost another chance to taunt you as he revealed that Brian was no more sensitive to the supernatural than Eli was, there being no escape from your unwanted roommate.

Now, you three knelt around a drawn-up pentagram on the floor of your room, the epicenter of paranormal activities how Brian explained, and between the fog of incense, the dim candle lights, and your nightmarish lover slipping in and out of your wet cunt, you could barely think even one cohesive thought.

It wasn't that you actually enjoyed being exposed to other people, the tension doing nothing for your pleasure other than making you squeeze the ghost cock tighter whenever it was your turn to speak. It wasn't a comfortable environment in any way. But something had changed. The ghost had changed.

You hadn't noticed it this morning at the breakfast table, nor when he bent you over the counter, feeling too worn out and fucked loose to actually feel the difference. But he had grown. After a few hours of staying away, you finally noticed the change in girth of his ever-so-eager cock. It was thick and bulging, especially when he pressed it to your sensitive cunt. It had made you gasp and tremble the first time it entered you, painfully spreading your walls, and even now, you could barely produce enough slickness to have it rammed into you comfortably.

Despite this, juices were flowing out of you, pooling on the floor beneath your gaping pussy as the ghost kept spreading and demanding deeper and deeper access. You blamed the incense for getting to your head, making you feel all aroused as you clenched around the suddenly bumpy and pleasurable grip his cock had. "Just like this, Babe. Fuck, you're so unbearably tight," the ghost groaned, burying his face in your shoulder as you unwillingly shuddered, your walls holding on to his length as it twitched inside you, the bumps and ridges covering his cock, stimulating your soft flesh.

You were going to cum. There was no denying it. In front of Eli and Brian, no less. 

"Now, let's hold hands, so we ask the ghost to pass over to the other side and leave this apartment peacefully."

A hand on each side of you was held out, and forcing yourself to take them, you couldn't help squeezing them tightly, earning a rather displeased look from both before Brian cleared his throat, continuing.

"I'll pass over, all right," the ghost mumbled, his pace picking up, cock twitching while he picked up the speed. You prayed to any god that could hear you that the others wouldn't notice your shaking and rapidly building orgasm. Your breath was hitching, pussy tingling delightfully as you closed in on violent spasms. 

"You feel so fucking heavenly~ I might die all over again. And I'll pass all my jizz right here."

And with that, you felt his tip kiss your cervix, your pussy spread to the max as the ghost stopped his movement, arms wrapped around you as he pressed you against his body, squeezing the air out of your lungs as if he wanted to take you with him to the afterlife. Your body had no choice but to accept his cock, wrapping around him and having him brutally stimulate all the sensitive spots inside you while you could barely hold on to reality.

Brian said some incomprehensible words, the rumbling of thunder suddenly scaring all three of you to the bone, making you jump. That little movement was enough to send you over the edge, the ghost pulling you back as you slid off his cock a little, his tip ramming into your cervix. It released all the pent-up pain and pleasure inside you first before soothing the burning heat of desire inside you with cold, dead spunk shooting up into your womb.

You were shaking harder than ever as lightning lit up the room, followed by another bellowing thunder. Brian gasped, his eyes widening as he stared at something behind your shoulder, the ghost letting out a husky laugh as he let his long tongue slip from his lips, dragging it over your ear before wrapping it around your throat once completely. "Mine," he growled, the tip of his tongue caressing your cheek, searching for your lips to dig in, and Brian let go of your hand, unable to get away fast enough as he let out a scream, stumbling to his feet and out of the door, leaving everything, even the things he lent you guys for the ritual, behind.

"What's up with him?" Eli asked, totally confused as they looked after Brian, surprised by the sudden freak-out. "What the fuck is going on? Why is he-- hey? Hey, what's wrong?"

Shocked, they noticed your unnatural hunched-over body, hanging only in the arms of the ghost that they couldn't see. Eli touched your shoulder, only to get shocked by electricity you could only guess came from the ghost. "It's over," you mumbled, feeling spit drool out of your mouth, your throat too restricted by the ghost's tongue to swallow. "Finally over."

"Never, Darling. We're only beginning," the ghost chuckled. "Tell them to leave."

"You can go, Eli," you slurred, letting your body fall back against the ghost's chest. Your eyes were hazy with the brutal orgasm you still felt shaking in every bone of yours. Gaze unfocused as you tried to direct it at Eli. The cock was still buried inside you, emptied yet hard and solid as if it manifested. Juices began to drip out, and had Eli looked at where the Ghost bundled up the black robe Brian made you wear in his grip, they would have seen the pool of indecency collecting on the floor between your wide-spread legs. 

"Are you sure? You seem... weird. Are you really okay? Should I call an ambulance? Do you need to go to the hospital?"

"No!" the ghost screamed, followed by the loud crashing of thunder as he grew bolder with every orgasm he could steal from you. He no longer lived to tease and bother you. He was finally evolving into an even worse spirit than before. Possessive. Starving. Greedy. Only you could hear him, and you shook your head in pain, exhausted.

"It's fine! Just... Just go. Please..."

"Err... okay?" Eli definitely wasn't considering hurrying up as they collected the few things Brian allowed them to take with her into the ritual, like their phone. But eventually, they stepped out of the door, closing it while watching you warily. "Let me know if you need something, okay?"

And with that, the lock finally snapped into the frame, and you breathed a sigh of relief as the ghost lowered you gently onto the floor, laying you down on top of the pentagram. "You're not going anywhere. And you can't get rid of me, do you understand now?"

"Please..." you mumbled, covering your face with your arms. You felt weak, used, and disgusted. So many bad things had happened in the last few days, and you were exhausted. Nothing you did made it better, and you were running out of ideas. It made you feel exposed and vulnerable, you even felt...

"I'm scared..."

Tears welled up in your eyes. A reaction you never wanted to show him, knowing the ghost would take every chance to belittle you. However, to your surprise, he leaned over you, licking and kissing the tears away gently, softly, a purr escaping his throat.

"It's okay, Sweetling. No one's going to take you from me. I'll satisfy all your desires and perform all these sinful things you'll come to wish from me as you fall from your graces. You are bound to me, and I am to you, and we'll grow stronger together until we can leave this place. We'll cause havoc and chaos wherever we go until we're strong enough to even wreck hell. I need you. You need me."

Pressing his body between your legs, you could feel his hard cock rub all over your cunt, now even teasing your clit. You mewled, head falling back as he pressed it painfully close, your pussy suddenly aching to be filled by his thickness while his lips trailed down your body, licking the sensitive spot between shoulder and neck before replacing it with his teeth.

His tip prodded against your entrance, and your cunt gave him little resistance as he pushed it in slowly, fangs sinking into your flesh at the same time. The ghost pinned you down by your hands, and with his weight, your whole body trembled so hard as if you were going to explode while you gurgled from the pain and pleasure. You were so out of it, you didn't even notice the pentagram beginning to glow beneath you as your blood spilled from the bite, some lucky drops dripping to the floor while the ghost licked up everything else.

"My queen, my life," he mumbled against your body, and you could feel his lips curl into a mischievous grin. "My pretty little fucktoy."

A burning sensations spread all over your back, making you gasp. Even more tears leaked from your eyes, but at the same time, you arched your back, the ghost's cock slipping inside you completely, turning the pain into pleasure.

"We're bound now," the ghost groaned loudly, lifting himself from you, and you felt his cock twitch inside as if he was ready to spill again.

Looking up at the ghost through teary eyes, you couldn't believe what you saw, his translucent skin slowly turning black and solid. You were horrified to see the burning mark of a pentagram go up in flames on his chest as his body solidified, great satisfaction brimming from demonic eyes.

"Finally, we're bound to each other. And with this new body of mine, nothing can stop us."

His touch had always been real, but the leathery feel of his hands wrapping around your throat was different. Frightening. You gasped and gurgled as he pulled you on his lap, now the one to kneel on the ground as he impaled you on his cock, one hand falling to your ass so he could move you up and down his shaft. "You're going to make such a beautiful pet for your future king of hell. I have to thank you for giving me enough strength to recover my true form. And I know just what to do to reward you."

Hugging you to his chest, you were pressed into the burning pentagram. The flames licked at you, lapping at you like an excited dog but didn't burn your skin where they touched. They were warm and comforting, engulfing you in an unlikely sweet embrace. All while more warmth spread through you like wildfire. Your back felt like it was burning up the same as his chest was, bigger and hotter with every toe-curling, scream-enticing plunge on his thick, slick cock.

"Birth my army as well, Human. Let's rain down disaster on this planet, and I promise you will never lack anything in life ever again."

You didn't care anymore.

Your tongue was hanging out of your mouth as your brain got shredded by otherworldly pleasure. Flames had spread everywhere, playing with your clit and nipples like eager appendages, teasing and lighting you on fire, even licking at your butt, waiting for a chance to enter you alongside their master. You could hear the wailing voices straight from hell as your ghost—demon?—grunted like a boar in heat while plowing into you mindlessly, satisfying his lust and need for your life force. You felt your life drain from you just as a new life built in you, strengthening you. Against your will, he was transforming you into something you didn't want to be. Something like him. A being that could weather all his desires and wishes. That would be just as depraved and selfish as he was, with a mind too broken to refuse him.

His queen. His life source.

His pretty little fuck toy.

His.

[acmoorereadsandwrites]

Some things that have helped me (so far) on my journey to writing a novel

Caveat that I am not agented and am still writing. I'm just sharing what is helping me in case it might help someone else.

Writing a query after 10k. Nothing sucks more than getting 40k in and realizing that you don't actually have stakes. Or character motivations. Or a throughline. Or worse, all three are missing. If you are a pantster/gardener like me, it really pays to write until you've had a bit of time to get to know the world, plot, and characters and figure out what they are and what they are doing and then write a query. If you struggle to write it, you might need to pivot, especially if you realize all you have is events and characters passively doing things.

Be willing to let projects marinate. I'm not gonna talk about how many WIPs I have because that's a really embarrassing number. The amount of ideas marinating in the back of my head is even longer. When a project is just not working and you cannot force it, set it aside and give it more time. Come back to it when you're ready to tackle it; maybe you'll have new ideas and better ways to handle the subject matter or characters.

Writing short stories can be a great way to try things out. Want to improve your descriptions or combat scenes? Or maybe you really just want to get a better grasp on word choice and sentence variety. Maybe that idea can be developed further or maybe it's only meant to be a short story. Either way, the idea has been exorcised and you have a new project to develop your editing skills on on top of having worked on your other skills.

Do a reverse outline as you go. If you are not a plotter/architect, the idea of the outline can either be really scary or it can be counterproductive. If I write an outline before the work, I feel as if I've written it. The journey matters more to me than the destination and I lose all motivation if I have a finished, developed outline. Instead, I write a chapter and then jot down what the audience learns, what the characters learn/are revealed to have known, and the contents of the chapter. I also keep notes in a spreadsheet on characters, motifs, potential changes, themes, and worldbuilding details.

This is to my fellow pantsters: do not let yourself become too inspired by your New Favorite Thing when it comes to the WIP. Do not do it. Do not let the themes of infertility in the Witcher invade your retelliing of Snow White if you never had plans for it to be there without seriously thinking it over. Make a note, let it sit, and decide later when you are no longer as inspired. Sometimes it really can work and is the right choice. Other times...no. Mermaids do not belong in every project no matter much you love The Little Mermaid. Save yourself the grief of taking hard pivots you have to undo at a later date.

Not keeping everything in my head and writing it down. Things still in your brain are beautiful and perfect and are still so very malleable. You cannot possibly keep track of every aspect of your WIPs if it's only in your head and, worse yet, if you're anything like me, you cannot edit what you cannot physical see on the page. When it's on the page, then you can do the real work of figuring out if it actually works.

Regularly consume media from a variety of cultures, genres, and voices. Netflix has an incredible catalogue of works ranging from a Nigerian legal drama to a South African conspiracy teen drama to an Irish comedy about the Troubles and life under normalized violence to a South Korean historical zombie horror series. For books, there is a growing wealth of translated works from many different cultures and a sharp rise in diverse authors. Australia has it's own literary movements as does Japan and Brazil. There are more and more books by and for Queer and neurodivergent people. Even listening to music can help. It's important to see what groups outside of your own are doing in media and art, how they represent themselves and their identity/culture/history, and the kinds of stories they want to see and make. It might inspire you, but it's also a great chance to learn and help uplift other voices.

Reading. This is tied to number 7, but reading really cannot be understated. Read the age category and genre you want to write in. Read short stories professionally published online. If you do better with audiobooks, listen to audiobooks. Thankfully, more and more authors seem to be getting them.

Resources:

[goddesspharo]

fanfic writing asks: 2, 23, 49

[writing asks!]

2. Where do you get your fic ideas?

This is an extremely boring answer but sometimes you just have to write the stories you want to read because no one else is doing it. Which is annoying because no one else is doing it and you have to write it, but it's also kind of fun. Often, my story ideas come from random neurons sparking to life that have me going, "Hey, wouldn't it be cool if this happened?" or "I wonder how the story would change/the characters would react if this one tiny thing was different!" Other times, it's a matter of "I really like this one thing, but it would be even better if the hyper-fixation from this movie/show had to deal with it" and, thus, an AU is born. And then sometimes it's one line or scene or piece of dialogue that won't leave my head and thus I have to create an entire 20k fic around it just to exorcise that demon. (The real fic idea algorithm probably boils down to how much work would it take to turn these characters into spies banging their way across Europe and/or introduce space into the mix.)

23. Is writing the beginning, middle, or end of the story easiest? Hardest?

If I haven't figured out a beginning, I can't write the story. My brain just doesn't work any other way so in some ways that is both the easiest and the hardest because if I don't have it, the story doesn't exist. There have been a handful of times when I've known exactly how something is going to end, down to the final sentence, but usually I have to really think about how to end it and leave it on a memorable note. The ending should stick with you – and extra points if it hearkens back to something early on. Close those loops!

49. What fic of yours would you say is the best introduction to you as a writer?

You go through different phases of being a writer, I think? This current phase was kicked off with not every conversation is a new grenade (The Batman) so that'll always be kind of special to me, but the current writing vibes are make everything an AU because why the hell not so that aspect would probably be better served by reading against the grain of dystopic claims (Top Gun: Maverick) or put it in a zip-lock bag (The Bear).

[bloomyagi]

bleed me dry (m)

summary: where Itadori is your bottom-loving boyfriend and Sukuna reluctantly learns this vessel is the real curse. or: where seduction is a dangerous game, and the King of Curses loses.

pairings: itadori x f!reader, sukuna x f!reader

warnings: subby itadori, sub sukuna (yeah you read that right), light bondage, blindfolds, sukuna’s havin a whole ‘reconsidering life’s meaning’ moment, lotta swear cause u know sukuna things, coming untouched, he faints (yeah you also read that right) and is actually unabashed about it, all things considered

length: 1,432

notes: what? me? obsessed with jjk? that doesn’t sound like me at all! 

.

.

.

His vessel is in love.

The word curdles in his mouth, tastes like ash. He has never known such a thing. It is part of his nature, he muses absently. Hardened from centuries of death and decay. Of destruction and war. He revels in it. Feels the most alive amongst the chaos.

But that’s the point. Curses can feel. They can have emotional attachment. Can’t you see? In so many ways, they’re not so different from us. He thinks you’re too loud. Your thoughts and beliefs are too loud. They’re also pointless and naïve, and he likes to pop by just to drive it home.

Hello, Sukuna. Where is the fear? Where is the resentment, the anger? The disgust? He enjoys it. But you—you just sit there and coax him into conversation like he’s another one of your classmates. Like he can’t crush your windpipe with a single flick of his hand. Like he isn’t the slow bleed of a death sentence for your lover. Like he isn’t anything at all. Like his titles and powers are stripped. What is he beyond it all? Who is he?

You ask about him sometimes. He rarely gives any indication he’s listening, but he does. Of course he does. There’s not much to do, bound and locked in this pink-haired boy. He lounges on this throne and watches his vessel pine and blush.

Sukuna watches his vessel fuck his fist and mewl your name every night.

It’s sad. “Brat,” he hisses. “Grow some balls. This is just pathetic.”

Itadori swallows. “Oh. Can you—?”

Sukuna shoves him off the ledge. A faint yelp travels, followed by a large splash. “Fuck her already. All this sitting and plotting is making my ass itch. If you won’t, I will.”

“You wouldn’t.” Sukuna tilts his head to peer down. Itadori’s eyes are narrowed, uncharacteristically solemn.

His lips bare into a slow grin. “Try me.”

Itadori blinks once. And then vanishes.

.

.

.

Fuck. It’s the only coherent thought his muddled mind can pierce together. He gazes down at his palm, opening and closing languidly. His vision is blurry, spine tingling. He raises the other hand, reaching for his palm.

Mmm. He shakes his head firmly. The sharp tinge of metallic and iron coating his tongue clears the fog a little. The pain fades quickly, muted from his years of conquest and ruin.

Every nerve is on fire. His skin, this flesh cage, burns, an unfamiliar heat curling in his lower stomach. Sukuna is no stranger to the pleasures of the flesh—is well-acquainted, spent much of the centuries indulging in his vast harems. In the haze of blood and carnage, there is the memory of writhing bodies, of soft thighs and breasts, of glazed eyes and cries of his name. Of women fucked into wanton abandon, bred and lost in the worship of his cock.

But this. This heat is foreign in every sense. In its strange intensity and all-encompassing hold. All his senses are heightened but laser focused on the other pair of hands mapping his body. On the addicting sensations they’re inducing.

Can you—? Yes. Yes, he fucking can. He can feel everything and he wants to wrap his hand around your throat and squeeze.

His eyes roll back. Ngh.

“Fucking wench,” he snarls. You’re a fuckin’ tease and if you edge him again, he is going to murder—

“Ah, ah. Watch your language, Sukuna. Ask nicely.”

He jolts. Finds his eyes cloaked in darkness, arms tied to his back and legs spread. Bare, save for a pair of briefs that’s slick and restricting. Kneeling. The sheets bunch beneath him. Every muscle in his body is tensed, body coated in a thin layer of sweat.

This position—!

“That brat—mmph!” Is that a fucking—gag? Did you just gag him? He struggles harder against the binds, but he feels your lips curl into a smile where you’re suckling against the column of his neck.

“You’re powerless here. The binds will restrict you for the next twenty-four hours … unless you can be good.” You trace the thick knots, smiling only growing at the way he lets out a muffled growl.

Every fucking sense is heightened tenfold. He’s on firefirefire. The flames consuming him inside out, like he’s being exorcised from within.  

It’s humiliating. It’s exhilarating. It feels—

“King of Curses. I want you to beg.” You’re a witch. You’re enthralling. Temptation incarnate. His head falls forward, chest heaving.

“Mmmmf!”

“What a dirty mouth,” you murmur, and his struggling is renewed when he feels your fingers dig into his thighs.

Oi, brat, he growls. What the hell is this?

His vessel is silent, but the back of his mind prickles. He’s watching. That freaky little shit.

“So stubborn. Let go. You’re good at that, aren’t you?” Fuckfuckfuck, you’re palming his cock over the thin fabric. Maybe it’s been a while, maybe there’s a little more truth lurking beneath it, but he vaguely notes he’s never been so hard before.

You—! You’re fuckin’ burning his briefs off. Ash tickles his nose. A small part of him thinks it’s hot. His cock throbs, and even without visual confirmation, he knows you’ve paused at the sheer size. His mouth curls into a lopsided smirk, dark pride making his chest swell. What was he so worked up for? You’ll just end being another one of his breeding bitches, fucked stupid by his thick, long cock.

But then you pinch his left nipple, twisting harshly. Electricity courses through him and a sound he’s never heard in his absurdly long life escape his lips, muffled by the gag. His back arcs, head hitting the mattress beneath him.

His mind blanks, eyes rolling back as white noise fills his ears.

.

.

.

He rouses slowly.

He blinks lethargically at the ceiling, gaze unfocused. Everything feels muted, limbs heavy like he’s swimming in a pool of ink. But he’s not restrained anymore. There’s a blur of movement in the corner of his eye.

He turns his head to peer at you, half-lidded.

“That’s a very nice expression,” you chuckle, moving to sit by his side. The mattress dips lightly. He lifts a hand to tug at the hem of your outfit, expression twisting at the staggering movement.

“That’s a very nice look on you,” he murmurs in response. You’re wearing one of his vessel’s dress shirts, the oversized fabric falling mid-thigh. It simultaneously swallows you and presses against your curves. Something inside him stirs. His throat feels shot, even though he knows he hasn’t had much of a chance to speak.

You help him sit up, propped against the headrest, before offering him a glass of water. His lips lift into a half-smirk and you sigh, shaking your head but acquiescing. You take a mouthful before kissing him. Water dribbles down his chin.

You wipe it away with a half-fond, half-exasperated expression. His chest tightens.

“How long—?” He tries to move, but you stop him with a firm hand. He’s conflicted at the way his body responds immediately to the touch. His temperature flares despite his obvious fatigue.

“A few hours. I asked if Yuuji would keep you out until you woke.”

There’s a pause, and the knowing look in your eye tells him you know he’s mulling it over.

And then—

He reaches for you, and you set the glass aside to climb on his lap.

He bares his fangs. “Then let’s make the most of it.”

As you press him into the bed, tongue stroking his in such a manner his brain is starting to haze over again quickly, he thinks, brat, we’re going to have a long talk after this.

Sukuna doesn’t expect an answer after his vessel’s continued vigil, so he starts when Itadori replies, she’s ours.

I don’t share, he slurs. He thinks he sees a flicker of Itadori’s grin.

You’re going to have to. Because you like her, too. And she’s the one in control, not either of us.

Dimly, Sukuna acknowledges he’s right. You might be the one bouncing on his cock, but he’s not the one fucking you, you’re the one fucking him.

Fine, he gasps as you run your nails down his abdomen. Deal.

Good, his vessel says. Because I’m next, and you better not get in the way.

He growls, eyebrows knitting.

Your smile only grows.

[sukirichi]

— falling out of love with gojo satoru

warnings: angst, mentions of sexual content, cursing

masterlist !

when you fell in love with gojo satoru, your heart exploded like a firework.

you still remember that moment very vividly at the back of your head. it was new year’s, and you two were drunk on both liquor and the feeling of having the other by your side. it was a tough year – as the norm was for jujutsu sorcerers – but you both made it out alive.

alive couldn’t even begin to describe how you felt that day.

satoru has always been the person who stuck by your side through thick and thin like how you were the one who always went against the higher-ups when they tried to limit his capabilities. you should’ve known then, that the higher ups were just the beginning. that when once you thought their oppression for satoru’s plans were nothing but microscopical compared to the barrier his family had placed between the both of you.

they didn’t like you.

he was a gojo, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer, while you were...well, you.

you weren’t really anyone special or better than anyone. your technique was decent and had a lot more drawbacks than advantages that you had to improve your physical abilities instead to not be deemed a total useless tool.

satoru never saw you that way. to him, he admired you almost as equally as he cherished his best friend, suguru, so much so that the three of you become the best of friends in the blink of an eye. the more time you spent together, whether alone or with others, it felt like your world just hyper focused or snapped into tunnel vision, zeroing on no one else but the white-haired man whose smile was brighter than any other in the sky.

when he told you he loved you, you couldn’t distinguish which ones were the exploding new year fireworks or the drumming of your heart. you stared up at him then, lips falling open as you released a tiny breath of air, and satoru laughed. he actually laughed.

you wanted to tease him, to punch him even though you couldn’t really ever touch him just to get over the fact he had you losing your composure with eyes glossing over. “well,” he taunted then, one shoulder lifting up lazily. “aren’t you gonna say anything? if you feel the same way, now’s the best time to tell me. we can end the year as friends and start another one as-”

satoru never got to finish his sentence. you had jumped into his arms faster than the speed of light, hands yanking down his yukata to pull him towards you, your lips slamming on his almost greedily.

he didn’t mind. he never did.

for once, it felt as if his infinity never existed. you had both spent the night tangled under the sheets, your name rasped from his lips like a prayer. the way you kneeled for him just moments later with your eyes fervently closed made him feel like he’s the one being worshipped instead, and in a way, it was. you loved him – way too much that you no longer cared how much it would hurt the day after when he never gave you a break and kept you pulled closer to him.

you loved him – way too much that you no longer cared how much it would hurt if ever the time came that you no longer felt the same.

contrary to how you fell for him, you fell out of love with your best friend quietly. your shared apartment would still be filled with his annoying mannerism of dragging his feet over the floor as he walked, always groaning and complaining that he was hungry but never really bothered to cook anything for himself.

it felt a lot like living with a child where you were his mother, but in that sense, satoru hated it whenever you worried for him.

“you’re not my mother, stop telling me what to do!”

“stop being so arrogant, satoru!” you pointed to the barely conscious child in his arms, the first year student still barely breathing because satoru had gone out of his way again and brought yuuji while he fought a special grade curse. “you may be strong, but not everyone around you is capable of handling what you can! stop dragging people into your mess and start using your goddamn brain for once!”

“you don’t know anything, so shut the hell up.”

you scoffed, hands placed on your hip while you blinked back the angry tears that threatened to fell. you worried for yuuji, you really did, but in reality, you just couldn’t handle seeing gojo pushing himself to his limits and coming back home more wounded than the night before.

“i’m just worried for you, satoru. i don’t want you getting hurt.”

“i’m the strongest,” was all he said – was what he always kept saying. “i’m not going to get hurt.”

“you may not,” you reply stiffly, “but what about me? don’t you think about me? don’t you think about how much it hurts me to see you this way?”

you told yourself you hated him. you hated how arrogant he got. it was good he was confident of his abilities and prided himself of such an honourable title, but satoru was human. he was bound to fall at some point.

eventually, you got too tired.

it was too tiring to keep waiting for him to come home unscathed. you were assigned different missions all the time. satoru would always be working overseas while you mostly helped train the kids and exorcised curses from time to time; no missions that were as dangerous as his.

in the dead of the night, when you were turned away from him in your bed that had already gotten so cold from his usual absence, satoru would slip beside you as silently as he could. the morning afterwards would always be the same: good morning, did you sleep well? he knew the answer. he knew you never slept well without him, but he’d ask just to be nice, and it wouldn’t take too long before you’re both late to work because he missed you too much from being away all the time that he wanted to feel you clamp around him one more time.

it was tiring. too tiring.

that heavy weight never left your shoulders. you cried yourself to sleep far too much that you’d lost count – until you reached a point you just felt nothing. the bed no longer felt cold – just empty. his side always remained untouched, his chair in the dining table barely used, and you’ve gotten so used of washing only your plate and utensils that you wondered if satoru had ever been there.

you wondered if it was a coping mechanism; that maybe you could just no longer handle the pain of having to worry about him every damn night and he’d never care enough to at least be a little more careful, and this was why you just stopped missing him, which was why you just started enjoying the silence in your apartment a little bit more than you should.

but if it was a coping mechanism...why did you feel a lot freer and happier in his absence? instead of it feeling like you were supposed to be distracted, you felt awakened. alive.

alive in the same way he told you he loved you while the skies painted different hues of red, blue, green, and yellow in the darkness that bore witness to your souls connecting that night – the same sky that was now patiently watching as your souls split in half and formed itself whole all over again.

contrary to how you fell for him, you fell out of love with your best friend quietly.

there was no longer someone singing made up songs in the shower. there would no longer be that sound of an annoying loud kiss down the bride of your neck or the smacking of his palm on your ass when he wanted to piss you off.

you fell out of love him so silently that when he crawled next to you that night, you didn’t even hear him. and for the first time in a long time, you slept well the moment he left before the sun stretched its wings across the horizon. when you were greeted by nothing but your own pair of slippers outside your bedroom and not even a post it note to tell you he’d already left for work, a smile tugged on your face.

you made your breakfast in peace. satoru no longer dared to come back home if he was injured because he knew you wouldn’t care enough to fix him up.

although of course you would, but nothing ever beats in your heart for him anymore when you dab the disinfectant across his cut lips. satoru would catch your wrist then to tug you to him slowly, empty eyes staring back at his sky blue ones.

“thank you. for patching me up.”

“you’re welcome,” you’d smile, climbing off his lap while closing the first aid-kit. “go get changed. i’ll cook something up for you.”

it was a silent, empty routine. satoru would thank you for fixing him up because he was never every sorry for worrying you. he’d keep being reckless again and again until he reached a point you no longer cared for him enough to say goodbye to him with a kiss and the slow, tender promise of be safe – i’ll wait for you to come home.

you still kiss him – more out of habit than anything – but you’ve changed.

i’ll see you tonight.

it was empty, silent, completely different from the fireworks he’d ignited within you when he told you he loved you. satoru wasn’t dumb, and he didn’t need his six eyes to see that you’ve grown too comfortable over the large space between you and him between the sofa, almost as if him being away was what felt home for you.

he was never a confrontational man; he hated each waking moment that lead to this, but he had to do it. he needed to do it – to set you both free.

when the commercials started playing, satoru lowered the volume down, voice low and serious as he turned to you. you easily picked up on the sudden tension in the room – the first thing you’ve felt ever since you’ve fallen out of love with him – yet nothing changed. when satoru sighed, your heart didn’t ache.

“well,” he chuckled nervously as he leant back to his side, “things have changed, don’t you think?”

“yes.” there was no point denying it. you knew it – he felt it.

“what do we do now?”

you had no answer to his question. despite the fact you no longer looked at him the same way, not once had it crossed your mind to leave your apartment. not because you wanted to hold on as much as possible to whatever memories you shared under this roof, but simply because you didn’t know where else to go.

it wasn’t like it made a difference anyway. satoru barely came home, and when he did, he made his presence as scarce as possible that you could no longer tell what difference it would make if he was here or not.

“i don’t know,” you admitted, knees hugged to your chest. “what do you want to do?”

his answer came in the form of opened doors. you leant against the doorframe, watching as nanami and even yuuji came to help satoru move his stuff out of the apartment. he found a better place somewhere in the upstate, somewhere much closer to bars and clubs – which you know he thoroughly enjoyed it prior to meeting you – and your mind immediately went back to the time you and satoru first moved in.

it proved to be a difficult task. you both wanted to move in and finish unpacking as soon as possible, but satoru was too eager to christen each part and corner of the house that you both ended up making more mess.

nights spent tucked into each other because the heater was broken and you were both too tired to sleep anywhere except the uncomfortable mattress played like a broken record in your mind. satoru’s laughter echoed when nanami complained that he should stop spending money on souvenirs so he could’ve hired professionals to help him move out instead, your head snapping up at the source of that carefree, sweet laugher that always had butterflies erupting in your stomach.

as if feeling your gaze on him, satoru’s eyes flitted to where you stood. when he smiled, you could tell each genuine apology rang behind it – all the words he never got to say staying like a broken glass that kept cutting him over and over again.

he loved you. he still loves you.

and maybe, tucked away in the deepest parts of your heart that no longer felt fond of him the same way it did before, still held a little compassion enough for this man you once wanted to spend your life with.

you weren’t unkind. you didn’t need to love someone to know when to forgive them, but just for this moment, just for him, you could pretend to for one last time.

smiling up at him with your eyes crinkled and the last bits of adoration for everything about him gleamed through your lashes just before it slipped away into nothingness. it was enough. it was enough for satoru to know he’d been forgiven, and it was enough for him to finally set you free.

the next time you saw him at school, there were no longer fireworks.

your heart was at peace.

[lost-between-letters]

I Bet You Think About Me

Part four

Pairing: Sam Winchester X Reader (she/her)

Word Count: 1,210

Warnings: spoilers for season 7

Summary: A new person messes with Sam's head. For once, it's the fun kind though

A/N: anddd the final part already! I hoped you liked it, I for my part had fun (and wouldn't mind a fifth part maybe sometime with the date... If I get inspired that is)<3

part one / part two / part three

In the end, it turned out to be a Nosos, a Greek ghost of illness that haunted the local supermarket. It was exorcised pretty smoothly, at least by their standards.

Dean got hit by it on the way out which left him behind a nice parting gift - a nasty cold that he was bitching about for the next six weeks. Other than that, everything went back to normal for the two brothers.

Okay, maybe not normal. Dean was giving him side glances every time, Sam was on his phone or left the room to take a call and they swung by Bobby's at least once a week now.

This got so annoying, that, by the third time Dean had grinned at the incoming text signal, Sam was ready to throw the phone at his brother. After taking the call and explaining the situation of course. "What?"

"Dude," Dean's grin broadened even more. Seriously, it was almost a 360, "I knew that you were a chicken with the girls but this?"

"What are you talking about?" Sam feigned ignorance. Not that it ever worked with Dean but it was worth a shot. Who knew maybe today was the day he finally found the part of himself that held up a neon sign Not Your Business.

A shot into the dark. Dean rolled his eyes, crossed his arms and leaned back on the motel bed as if he was about to watch one of his beloved soap operas that he swore on his soul he hated. "Y/N, you dense fucker. I swear to God, it's so obvious that you like her and if you don't grow a pair until the next time, I'll ask her out."

"Don't you dare." A pillow flew Dean's way before Sam had finished his sentence. The words had flown out of his mouth before his brain had caught up on what was happening.

Annoyingly, he simply dodged it and kept looking at him with the Older Brother Look. "Oh, I will Sammy, trust me."

"Fine, you jerk, I'll talk to her," Sam grumbled and threw the bathroom door shut behind him.

"Cool, because she texted me that she'll be here in fifteen, wanted to pick up a shiny weapon as well," Dean shouted through the closed door, "and don't make us have this conversation again, 'kay?"

Sam just groaned loudly and mourned the long shower he had planned on. Now, he opted for short but clean.

His timing was perfect, as Y/N was already leaning on the opposite wall when he left the bathroom, hair damp and dropping onto his shoulders.

Dean was nowhere in sight and the door was closed. Sam wasn't sure if he was grateful or wanted to shoot him. Well, that was certainly the situation Dean had wanted. Most likely had orchestrated it too, the controlling jerk.

"Hey there," Y/N waved and smiled, "feeling clean again?"

Sam shrugged. A lovesick grin came annoyingly easy at her open expression. "Can't complain."

Ignoring the elephant in the room, he walked over to the table under the window where they had put their bag with weapons. His mind scrambled for every piece of information that wasn't centered around the reason Y/N was here. "Dean said you needed a silver knife, do you have any preferences for length?"

"Dean said that you wanted to tell me something," Y/N cut to the core. She pushed herself up from the wall and stood up straight. As if she was bracing herself.

Yeah no, Sam would shoot him. He laughed nervously, stalling to think of what the fuck he was supposed to say now. The truth? Wonderful idea. Again, yeah no. "Uhm"

Sam had the strong urge to run but knew that it was useless. Knowing Dean, he was standing across the floor and would push him right back into the room. Or have Cas seal it magically. He wouldn't put it past him to be honest. So Sam gathered up the courage that was usually reserved for invading a demon nest and turned towards Y/N.

Only to see her playing with the sleeves of her jacket and staring down at her feet.

She was nervous too, Sam realised. With probably more joy than was appropriate. But hey, that could only be a - well - okayish sign?

"Dean's an asshole." That was a start, right? Maybe not the best, but at least he was talking. God, Sam wanted to shoot himself now. Preferably his hands so that he knew where the fuck to put them.

Luckily, Y/N laughed rather than providing the weaponry to go through with his plans. "Oh, I don't know, he's pretty cool."

"Yeah, as long as he doesn't go all big brother on you and tries to give you life advice," Sam grumbled.

"Any life advice in particular?" Y/N stepped away from the wall and towards him.

Ah, fuck it. If this went wrong, Bobby would kill him anyway. There was a lot of killing involved in his thought process, a sadistic part of his brain felt the need to point out. "Actually yes. That I should get my shit together and ask you out or he would."

There it was. Standing between them. Y/N was not moving at all and Sam was slowly wishing that he never opened his mouth in the first place. This was going terribly out of the window and straight down the gutter now that it was in motion.

Until- "Well, are you going to or do I have to find Dean?"

"Oh fuck you," Sam laughed.

And then he wasn't laughing at all as Y/N had found a very resounding way to shut him up.

Her hands were all tangled up in his hair as they pulled Sam down with one quick tuck and then she was kissing him. It took Sam just the smallest of moments to realise what the fuck just happened and then didn't care at all. Y/N's lips were far too soft and demanding against his, tasting like cheap soda and french fries for him to think of anything else. Without much say so, Sam's own hands went up from where they were dangling uselessly on his sides to hold onto her waist and pull her closer.

It was over after a handful of breaths, Sam's heart beating somewhere up in his throat. He grinned down stupidly at the girl in his arms, her eyes shut, lips swollen just the slightest bit. And then she opened them and pulled these lips up into a smile. "Still didn't hear a question, Sammy."

"You're insufferable," Sam decided, his hands firmly planted on her waist, "Will you do me the pleasure and go on a date with me when we're not busy getting killed?"

"That's a wonderful idea," Y/N agreed and crossed her wrists behind his neck.

A knock on the door broke the tension.

"Are you done in there? I want my bed back and I will use the holy water if I need to," Dean threatened from the other side.

Sam let out a long suffering sigh and let go of Y/N. "Come in!"

The ugly green motel door revealed a smugly grinning Dean. Sam was too happy to even say anything about it though.

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[shakespearesdrugdealer]

Can't sleep

Warnings: None, just soft fluff

A Megumi drabble inspired by these brilliant lines I came across on my feed recently

“I can’t sleep,” Megumi murmurs into his phone, his voice soft and tired. She didn’t understand why he wasn’t able to sleep; it was a tough day with a mission that Gojo assigned to her, Megumi and himself but he didn’t even bother to do anything because he spotted a sweet shop nearby. That was all it took for a three-man team to become a pair of tired young adults running on two slices of toast and coffee sent to exorcise a bunch of curses. Needless to say, she was exhausted and wanted to hit the bed but her phone lit up with Megumi’s name on the caller profile and all the sleep left her body without question.

She shuffled from her sheets to the window of her room that faced Megumi’s room in the opposite building. She was listening to the soft breathing from the other side of her phone and for some reason wanted it to be closer. So, her filter turned off in her brain, and she was not able to stop herself from saying what followed.

“Come sleep with me then,” she proposed casually. She said it very nonchalantly but her hands were clenched into tight fists and she was about to jump out the ledge of the window. Why did she just say that?

Megumi pulled the phone was from his ear and held it a good distance from his face, furrowing his eyebrows like it had just transformed into an alien object right at that moment. His face was flushed all too well and she was smiling on the other side of the phone knowing what she did. Realizing the call was still going and she was probably waiting for a reply, he fumbled with his phone like it was suddenly a hot potato and brought it back to his ear.

“Uhm-” he squeaked before clearing his throat and trying to form a coherent sentence. “Want me to come over?”

“Y-Yeah,” she stared at the building opposite hers, into the window that belonged to Megumi’s dorm. The lights were out so she couldn’t see much but she was praying he wasn’t peeking into her window because then he would see her panicking and trying to shove the mess of clothes on her floor into the closet.

“Want something from my dorm?” he asked, not thinking that this is where their phone call would take them.

“Nope, just you.”

She was going to stab herself in the morning for the things that she was saying right now but with the boy that was approaching her room in his gray sweatpants, hoodie, and tired eyes, looking like all the comfort she needed, she really couldn’t be that upset.

[gojo-x-reader]

Confessions in a Drunken Night

Relationship(s): Gojo Satoru x F!Reader

Warnings: excessive drinking, mentions of sex (not related to drinking), getting drunk, job stress

Tags: communication is key

AO3 Link: here

Words: ~2k

Request:   “ Hey, I hope you're doing okay. I have read your scenarios and I fell in love with them They are so cute and adorable . If you take a request would you mind taking mine. About a f/reader who is depressed about her job pressure and Gojo not being home lately so she would be drinking at home not knowing that Gojo had arrived and was sleeping and he would wake up because of sound and he would find her saoul , and he would try to make up with her , with a lot of fluff please , thank you .”

You heard the door hurriedly slam from the other room and sighed. This was the third time just this week alone that date night was interrupted with you and your boyfriend, Satoru. Every time, he promised that nothing would come up, but every time something did. You didn’t understand why exactly his job was so important for him to just leave like that. He was just a high school teacher. 

You sighed again, then picked up the uneaten dinner you cooked for the both of you. You placed the food in containers for later, if there was a later with him. You might end up eating both portions by yourself. You finished up cleaning up the romantic date you had prepared, now incredibly sad and frustrated. 

You started pouring yourself a glass of whiskey. You weren’t a fan of the stuff straight, but tonight seemed like the night to drink. How many hours of overtime did you put in this week just to try to have an evening off to spend with your boyfriend? How much sleep did you lose just to stay ahead? How many times did your boss scoff because you asked off not one night, but three nights this week? You’d be lucky if you could get another night off in a month after this week. 

You sipped on the whiskey, cherishing the warmth it brought to your core. You grabbed the bottle and glass and took them the to couch. The whiskey bottle was less than halfway finished; might as well finish it tonight. You lounged on the couch as you brought the glass to your lips and reminisced about your relationship with Satoru.

You had been together for over a year now, but it didn’t feel like it. You were practically in a long-distance relationship, despite only living twenty minutes from each other with how scarce you got to see him. He was always busy on “business trips” or whatever for his job. The thought that he was cheating on you crossed your mind a time or two, but Satoru didn’t seem like the type. 

The two of you met in your favorite bakery just down the street. You had fought over the last piece of tiramisu, which he eventually gave you in exchange for your number. He was incredibly easy to talk to and within a few weeks, the two of you were going on your first date. He was suave, but you soon learned that was just a front he put up. The true Gojo Satoru was a dork with an almost insufferable personality that somehow you were able to stand. 

You were sure that in the year you had been dating, you had only gone on three successful dates with Satoru and well over fifteen attempted dates. The three successful dates all had a special place in your heart.

The first successful date was your first date. It was a cozy café date followed by a nice walk through the nooks and crannies of Tokyo you never saw on your work commute. You remembered how you gained the confidence to hold Satoru’s hand on the first date, only feeling like there was a literal wall between you two for a few seconds. It was strange, but it was the only incident, so you never brought it up to him. 

The second successful date was a few months later with another failed attempt in between the first and second. This one was a trip to a fancy restaurant in the heart of Tokyo. This was the date you learned that your boyfriend was loaded. Not just well off, but rich enough he could spend a couple hundred thousand Yen and it was just pocket change to him. Somehow, the reveal left more questions than answered them; namely, how did he become so rich with a teacher’s salary? Was he part of some kind of Old Money or something?

 He never told you where you were dining, so of course, you dressed like it was a casual outing. Before heading to the restaurant, he bought you a dress that was worth more than two years of your yearly salary (against your protests). It was a gorgeous dress, in your favorite color. It still hung in your closet; while you wanted to sell it for some extra money, you didn’t want to upset Satoru. 

The third and final successful date was your first anniversary. Neither of you wanted to go out, so you both stayed in. The two of you cooked dinner together; you were pleasantly surprised to learn that Satoru had a talent for cooking and wanted to taste more of his cooking. He insisted you were a much better cook than him, but you disagreed. 

After dinner, one thing led to another until you were swept off your feet literally to the bedroom. 

You smiled fondly at the memories of your first time together. It was only two months ago, but nothing had happened since then even though you desperately wanted a repeat of your anniversary tonight. Ah, you remembered why you were drinking. You swallowed the rest of the whiskey in your glass, grimacing as it burned in your throat.

You were already tipsy after one glass. You were a lightweight; you were sure you would be shit-faced before the end of this bottle. Satoru never drank, yet he always had the audacity to make fun of how much of a lightweight you were. 

Who knows how long passed before you finally swallowed the last drop of whiskey. At that point, you were fighting your eyelids that were trying to close. Without Satoru there to entertain you as you were tipsy, you became a tired drunk. You just wanted to go to sleep but didn’t want to leave the couch. If you got up, you’d probably stumble and fall back anyway. So, you grabbed the blanket draped across the couch and wrapped yourself around it.

A sudden wave of sadness washed over you right as you closed your eyes. You missed Satoru, desperately. It felt physically painful being away from him at the moment. You brought a hand up to your eyes and wiped them, rolling over and finally going to sleep for good. 

You woke up to the feeling of someone shaking your form. You groaned. Your head was pounding from dehydration, you were still sleepy from the alcohol; who dared interrupt your sleep?

You blinked a few times to find Satoru and his beautiful blue eyes staring at you. He appeared slightly worried, but also tired.

“Time?” you asked, not even forming coherent sentences yet.

“Almost 3am,” Satoru answered.

You groaned. “Let me sleep.”

“How much did you drink?”

“Does it matter?” you snapped back. You then realized how hostile you sounded, then started crying. “Please don’t be mad at me,” you said between hiccups. 

Satoru took you into his arms, soothingly rubbing your back to calm you down. You suddenly felt worse because you were a mess, just because he left for an emergency with work? Pathetic. 

Your sweet, incredible boyfriend helped you slowly sit up, then obtained a glass of water for you to drink. You chugged it, not even realizing how thirsty you were. Satoru refilled it for you, urging you to instead sip the water. 

“What’s wrong?” Satoru asked as he sat down next to you on the couch.

“...Nothing,” you answered.

“Nothing? I come home to find my girlfriend passed out on the couch drunk off her ass and sad. You’re upset, and I want us to work through this. Now, what’s wrong?”

“I’m sad,” you admitted. 

“Obviously.”

“I don’t feel like you--” hic “--love me as much anymore. You keep leaving during our dates, you don’t spend much time with me anymore, and my job is just so stressful because I keep having to work overtime to get days off and I doubt I can get another day off for a month now. That just makes me so fucking sad because I wanna see you every day but I can’t--” 

Satoru gently placed a hand on your cheek. His gaze was filled with so much love it rendered you speechless. “That all?” he asked. You nodded.

Satoru tenderly placed a kiss on your forehead. “I’ve been keeping a secret from you,” he admitted. Suddenly, your brain raced through all of the possibilities, fixating on the idea he was cheating on you. Oh, no, here it comes… 

“I’m a jujutsu sorcerer.”

“Excuse me?”

That was not at all what you were expecting. What did that even mean?

Satoru backed away. “Here, try to grab my hand.”

You reached out to him, feeling the familiar wall like you did on your first date. “Oh!”

“This is Infinity,” he explained. “As you get closer to me, you slow down, unable to reach me. It’s a jujutsu passed down through my family.”

“I think I’ve felt it before. On our first date.”

Satoru sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “I always keep my Infinity going at all times, 24/7, even when I’m asleep. I only let down my guard around you because I trust you with my life.”

“So. What does this all mean? What else are you keeping a secret? Your job too?”

“No, I really am a high school teacher. For the first years, to be exact. The bunch this year are… interesting to say the least. So I’ve been having to stay late to train them, and I actually do go on business trips. A lot of them are overseas.” 

“What are they for?” You were now very invested in your boyfriend’s secret life he had been hiding from you all this time.

“We exorcise curses.”

“Curses?”

“The evil beings of the jujutsu world. I have to go on more missions than the average person because I’m one of the very few Special Grade jujutsu sorcerers in the world. It’s the highest rank a jujutsu sorcerer can reach. And your boyfriend is the strongest in the world.”

“Are you really, or are you self-proclaimed?” you asked, knowing his personality. Satoru pouted. You pinched one of his cheeks gently, then dragged his face to your lips, pressing them against his cheek. “I’m just kidding.”

“I really am the strongest, though,” Satoru continued to pout. “Anyway! I think it’s time for us to sleep. Tomorrow, I can take you to see my school and you can meet my students!”

“Really?” you asked, excited. Finally, your boyfriend was allowing you into the part of his world you were always curious about.

“Really,” he promised. 

You yawned. The sun was just starting to peek through your windows. Suddenly, you felt yourself being lifted and carried to your room. You weren’t quite sober and made sure to warn Satoru about that, lest he moved you too fast and caused you to throw up on the two of you. 

(“It wouldn’t get on me, though,” Satoru argued. “I can just activate my Infinity and I’ll stay clean.”)

Satoru tucked you into your bed, then made his way to your side. You were actually kind of glad you decided to get drunk tonight, as the liquid courage gave you the confidence to speak your mind to your boyfriend instead of keeping your feelings inside like usual. Tonight, you learned a side of your boyfriend you never thought existed. It brought you relief and curiosity to learn more about him and his life. 

But for now, you needed sleep. Meeting part of Satoru’s world could wait until tomorrow. 

[ratmonky]

The Wolf Within A Puppy

word count: 5.9k

warnings: gaslighting, noncon, violence, fingering, oral

AO3 link

A wolf was meant to be wild, untamed, and carefree. It was simply impossible to tame an animal born into the wild, it had already had a taste of freedom, and forcing it to be in a cage in shackles wouldn’t work but if the wolf was put in a cage, it would do anything until it was free. Even if it meant pretending to be a dog.

Humans were like animals.

They followed their instincts to live their life, that was what created them had intended. Humans were supposed to be following unwritten rules instead of the written ones, just like animals.

Animals lived without guilt, pain, or worry.

You wished you could live freely like animals.

~~~

Your teacher had told you specifically not to leave the campus, you lacked cursed energy and fighting spirit to be able to face any curse without the help of your younger classmen.

Yet, you desperately wanted to prove them wrong, you were more than your healing powers, you weren’t just a damsel in distress, you were the person who was going to save others. You were the main character.

Being able to sense cursed spells and energy from far away gave you the advantage of sniffing out low-level curses and exorcising them with the cursed tools you had stolen from the school.

Unless you did all of this, you wouldn’t be a sorcerer, being a sorcerer meant fighting curses and exorcising them, if you didn’t do any of that, it would be meaningless. Your existence was meaningless.

Today was supposed to be like any other day, you were following the low leveled curse energies to exorcise them and try to build your own cursed energy. Although Gojo had told you that you were a special case and didn’t have any, you refused to believe him and wanted to prove him wrong.

“It was coming from here,” you chirped, tightening your grip around the dagger’s handle. You stood in front of the sewer gate, some cursed energy was leaking out from inside, something that could be a grade four or even maybe just a fly head.

If you were lucky, it could be a third-level curse and you would have the chance to practice fighting with a higher grade curse than you’re used to.

Kneeling down, you crawled inside the sewers to find and exorcise the curse. Using your phone’s flashlight, you navigated your way through the larger gates and pipes. The foul smell was disturbing but you managed to ignore it with your willpower only.

You walked for minutes, trying to find the curse but failed. The energy had withdrawn itself, perhaps it actually was a fly head and it had run away for its life.

With a click of your tongue, you kicked a small pebble and it hit the water.

This was useless, you were useless. Why did you come here anyway? There was no way you could succeed at anything yet you kept trying as if that was going to do something.

Your eyes were glossy with tears, you were a failure. You hated this feeling, you hated the jujutsu school and your younger classmen. You knew they were looking down at you, even though you knew they cared about you, they were babying you. You were nothing, absolutely nothing compared to them.

Even thinking about becoming a fourth-grade sorcerer was an insult to your teacher. He had told you that you didn’t possess anything. You were just lucky to be born with the awareness of the curses and the ability to heal others.

You wouldn’t last a minute fighting with a cursed spirit.

No, no, no.

You had exorcised many spirits and curses with the help of the cursed tools. You were capable of certain things, you were being harsh on yourself, come on now…

Your hands went to your hair and you ruffled it with a groan. Maybe, if you told Gojo about the things you had done until now, he could give you a chance. You could train with others and maybe even possess an ounce of cursed energy.

Yes, Gojo would understand. You could return the cursed dagger and ask for Maki’s help to build your stamina, you could learn to use larger weapons. Maybe then you could become a worthy opponent to your lower classmen.

It was time to head back, you knew what to do.

“Ah, I wasn’t expecting any visitors!”

From the corner of your eye, you saw it. You were about to turn around and run out of the sewers but your body refused to move. Your mouth opened in pure terror but you couldn’t scream out of pure shock.

The cursed energy you had thought to be faint was overflowing your senses, your head hurt, your eyes felt like they were about to pop out of your head.

This couldn’t be happening.

Whatever it was, you knew it was something that was about to kill you.

You had to run. If you didn’t run, you were going to die.

This was a special grade cursed spirit. It could even talk.

Run.

Quick, legs, move!

Your legs refused to register what your brain was telling them, although all of your instincts were screaming for you to run, you stood exactly where you were, paralyzed from head to toe.

“Hmm, weird, I thought you sorcerers were a lot more… livid but you’re just like a statue.”

Footsteps came closer, you felt its hand on your shoulder and a whimper left your lips as it walked around you until it was facing you.

It happened in the blink of an eye. You tightened your grip on the dagger and lifted it, ready to stab the cursed spirit.

“Are you sure you wanna do that?” it chirped in a sing-song tone, then cocked its head to the side and smiled.

You dropped your dagger, fear coursed through your entire body before you felt your lips tremble.

“I don’t sense any cursed energy from you, how come you were confident enough to come after me?”

You bit your lip in frustration until you tasted the bitter copper. Nobody knew you were here, you had thought you would be able to handle this by yourself.

You didn’t have any cursed energy or special abilities, you were just a healer. You were nothing, you were nothing against this cursed spirit.

It must have noticed your despair because it had a nightmarish smile on its face, its skin snagging on its stitches as the skin crinkled around the corners of its mouth.

“I haven’t met you before,” it said, grabbing a chunk of your hair and pulling it back until your head lifted from the ground to meet its gaze. “Are you one of the new first years?”

“I’m a third-year,” you replied, your hand weakly grasped on its wrist. It was futile though, you were weak. You wouldn’t be able to fight. “Please let me go, I won’t tell anyone.”

It laughed as if you told it the funniest joke it had ever heard.

“My name’s Mahito, what about you, little lost puppy?” He ignored your cries.

You sniffled, your throat ached and clenched as if you had been screaming nonstop. Your body hurt from fear. “Please, I won’t tell anyone about your presence to anyone, please… just let me go. I- I don’t… I don’t wanna die-” By the time you finished your meaningless sentence, you were sobbing uncontrollably.

Mahito pulled your hair back and forced you to look at his mocking face. “I-I-I won’t k-k-kill you.” His eyes squinted, his cursed energy had lessened but you were still drowning in it. “I’ll maybe even let you go,” he said, pausing a moment longer to watch your face muscles relax and listen to you stuttering empty promises and gratitude. “I’ll let you go after I’ve made an example out of you.”

“No- Please!” An audible whimper left your lips, your tears were streaming down your cheeks. You couldn’t see straight, you could only make out the blurry outline of Mahito and his eerie smile. “I’ll do anything, please…”

He raised a brow at your promise.

His fingers loosened their grip on your hair and he instead carded his fingers through your hair slowly, like petting a scared animal.

His free hand landed on your shoulder before sliding down your spine and to the small of your back, he placed his hand steadily and pulled you towards him to close the gap between the two of you.

“Humans try so hard to leave an imprint of their lives. Are you one of them?” he asked curiously, “Is that why you became a sorcerer? Do you want to be remembered by others even after you die?”

You stayed quiet.

“When you die, nobody will remember you. From the moment you stepped inside here, I knew how insignificant your soul was. It’s not vibrant nor has any specialties. If I were to kill you, nobody would know, right? Your only legacy would be a framed picture of you... if you let others take your picture at some point that is.”

His words were like razor-sharp blades. It hurt you even more because he was right.

“It’s boring when you don’t fight or react, you know.” He twirled a strand of your hair between his fingers. Leaving your hair alone, he took your bag from you, unzipping and turning it upside down to empty it out. Once he was done, he threw your bag into the sewer water. “You’re supposed to fight with tooth and nails, or was it… fighting with all your might… is that what they say? Whatever, you understand what I'm trying to say, right?”

You nodded without paying any real attention to his words or what laid beneath them. You were only desperately trying to get this over with. If he was going to kill you, so be it.

This was your fault for coming here.

Mahito crouched to look closer at the items on the concrete, there were makeup, a hand mirror, books, pens, and a small good luck charm you had gotten when you had first started the jujutsu school.

A bittersweet memory invaded your mind, how excited you were about entering the school and how hard you had been trying to improve. But that excitement died quickly as you watched Gojo search for more students, hoping to gather around powerful sorcerers with a promising future.

You remembered the jealousy you felt of others. The way they all treated you like fragile porcelain, ready to break at any given time. The way they always looked at you with pity.

“(name) should never leave alone, it’s dangerous.”

“Making (name) participate in the sister school event is cruel, she can’t protect herself.”

If you were to die here, you would never be able to prove them wrong. If you exorcised this spirit right here, you would be free from the shackles of the expectations and opinions of others.

Mahito smirked at the way your eyes sparkled with determination. He put the sketchbook with your name on it down to instead watch you crouch and reach your hand to retrieve the dagger you had dropped with a smile.

It happened all too quickly, you were about to grab the dagger but found yourself tackled to the concrete. You let out a pained yelp as Mahito’s entire weight pressed on your back.

“What a magnificent fighting spirit!” he barked, pressing your cheek down onto the concrete and laughing hysterically.

You struggled to breathe but you kept squirming. Ready to fight this cursed spirit with everything you got.

His hand reached for your face and you jerked away from his hand, “Don’t touch me!” you screamed, your eyes finally meeting his, they were sparkling with vicious intent.

You shrieked upon seeing his stitched-up face up close, he was hideous. Him being this close to you made you panic even more. “Stay away from me!” Your body automatically tried twisting around from where you were trapped under his weight.

You started to scream as you struggled in his hold. It was barely evening, someone would hear your screams for help.

Mahito grabbed a chunk of your hair and pulled your head back before abruptly smashing your face into the concrete with tremendous strength.

The moment your face hit the cold concrete your nerves struck your entire body. The pain quickly hit you and your head bounced off from the ground like a ball, only to crash to the ground with a loud thud once again. You hit your head hard, the second impact left you dumbfounded, you could taste copper in your mouth. Your hand went to your mouth, only to discover the wetness… You looked at your hand in horror, you were bleeding.

The fear came rushing back.

Mahito looked down at you with a sinister smile, he was entertained by your pain. A low chuckle coming from him made you scream for help again.

It was no use though. On your way here, you hadn’t seen a single soul out in the streets. You were left to his mercy, you could only hope he didn’t kill you.

You were completely vulnerable and defenseless. All you could do was scream for help or beg for this merciless cursed spirit to stop. You had no idea what he wanted but if he actually wanted to hurt you, there was nothing you could do to stop him, especially not when you were bleeding and were in unbearable pain.

“You have no idea,” He suddenly said, startling you out of your frantic thoughts. “How much I'm going to enjoy this.”

He shrugged out of his shirt, the clothing fell next to your head and you found yourself sobbing in horror, “Please, please don’t hurt me,” your voice echoed in the sewers.

Nobody was going to save you.

You kept holding onto that small hint of hope that someone would come running into the sewers any second now, you were desperately trying to deny the realness of the situation.

“Calm down, puppy,” he spoke softly, you suddenly realized that he was crouched next to you now. You tried to see him through your tears, -God when did you start crying again?

You tried to move, crawl away from him. “Please,” you said, “I don’t wanna die.”

He laughed lowly and grabbed you by your ankle, pulling you towards him, “They all get talkative before their fate.” Mahito grabbed a chunk of your hair again and turned you to face him. “Ah, how pretty.” He pouted his lips, “You look gorgeous with all the blood coming out from you.”

He paused, noticing how your wounds were closing.

“You can heal yourself?” He laughed to himself, amazed by your ability. “You get more interesting each passing second!”

You still tried to hold onto that brim of hope that someone would come to save you.

You inhaled as much air as you could to start screaming again but the cold metal against your cheek forced you to keep quiet.

“Now, keep still,” he pressed the dagger down to your cheek, “I’m gonna make this quick.”

Terrified, you watched him move between your legs.

With a sudden rush of adrenaline being released into your body, you blindly kicked at him but fail miserably as he violently pounded your head to the concrete twice with a laugh at your attempt of kicking him.

The first blow stabbed a sharp pain into the side of your face, your vision went blank for a brief moment and you bit your tongue in the process.

The second hit on the concrete made you whimper helplessly.

Your hands fell to your sides in defeat.

When Mahito let his grip on your head loosen, you couldn’t move anymore, you laid on the concrete entirely motionless, blood emerged from the large cut on your temple and your nose. “Wait,” he smiled and lifted the skirt of your uniform, peeking under the fabric with a giggle. “Is that all the fight you had in you?”

He had noticed how you were still saving energy instead of healing yourself. He knew what your useless plan was.

Your eyes watered and you felt even more warm liquid gushing out from your nose and mouth. Your skin warmed and throbbed as you writhed in pain, gritting your teeth while the taste of copper spread in your mouth.

Your cheek laid flat on the cold concrete, your skin must have been burning hot because it relieved some of your pain you had on your face.

He placed the dagger next to your head, it was so close yet so far away.

“Don’t you think it’s funny how some humans follow the rules blindly until they take their last breath?” Mahito placed his hands on your thighs, spreading your legs and pulling you towards his hips. “I think it’s interesting, I wonder if their last thoughts before dying are about how they should’ve done something exciting in their miserable lives?”

You squirmed in an attempt to push yourself up or away from him but he effectively had pinned you down, using a single hand on the small of your back.

“Do you have any regrets? Were you a goody two shoes in your life? You came here to exorcise me, right? You wanted to be praised, didn’t you?” He pressed his chest on your back, nosing some of your hair out of the way to whisper into your ear. He kept sluggishly pressing his stomach against your back until you felt his lips brush against your earlobe. His warm breath tickled the side of your face. “Aren’t you the type of person who would be too stuck up to hang out with their friends and study instead?”

You mumbled.

“Hmm?”

Silence.

Mahito pouted his lips. You were getting boring. “What can I say to get to you, huh?”

He started thinking, the makeup stuff you had earlier meant you had to be the organized type, he had seen a keychain and a sketchbook with your name on it but it was nothing useful. But… your books about improvement could mean that you felt you weren’t enough at some academic level and then there was this good luck charm that had gotten you in a feisty mood…

Hmm.

An imaginary lightbulb popped over his head.

“Ahh, I see.” He took a staggering whiff of your hair. “Your life is already miserable enough.”

Your breath hitched, giving Mahito the reaction he had been looking for.

“I think,” he breathed, his lips were brushing against the shell of your ear. “It's finally time you and I had some fun, hmm?”

Your pulse went absolutely berserk with the threat of his words, the dark promise that loomed within his words.

“W-wait-”

Mahito flipped you over like a sack of potatoes. Once again, you were facing him. You stared at his patchwork of a face, loudly gulping at the disgusting sight. Before you could even comprehend what he was doing, you felt his cold hands go under your skirt.

With wide eyes, you struggled with renewed vigor as you tried to close your legs shut. But he was so much stronger than you. He only chuckled as you made a useless effort to stop him.

You were left to his mercy, once you realized that, you looked away from him.

“Ahh,” he smirked as he lifted the skirt of your uniform, “Such a naughty girl, you’re wearing these to school?” You felt his fingers gently feeling the fabric of your panties.

You squirmed uncomfortably on the cold concrete, knowing that he was staring down at your clothed cunt. You refused to give in to him, refusing to grant him the satisfaction of getting a reaction out of you.

He snickered and the sound of the clinking of his belt buckle startled you enough to yelp. You quickly closed your eyes.

“Eyes on me, (name),” he uttered as one of his hands kneaded the soft flesh of your thigh.

Your eyes widened at your name. How did he-

“You should enjoy doing bad things, (name),” he said. “Listen to your soul, be free as the shape of your soul.”

Mahito’s hand squeezed your cheeks together until your lips puckered and he leaned to press his lips against yours. At the same time, you felt a fabric being pulled down, it took a staggeringly long moment before you realized it was your panties.

“If you keep living your life to please others, you won’t be able to please yourself.”

A loud sore tore out of you and disappeared into Mahito’s mouth as he let his tongue loll out before licking your lips. His saliva left a wet feeling and the breeze from the sewers chilled your skin.

“How cute.”

Mahito lifted your legs and you laid there completely motionless as he palmed his cock through his boxers. You looked away from him, refusing to watch him violate your body.

Although you weren’t watching him, you could feel his fingers moving along your folds. He lifted his hand and held it between your faces, smiling widely. “You’re sopping wet, (name).”

He forced his digits into your mouth, swirling them until you cleaned his fingers with your tongue. He watched you with an amusing smile.

Finally satisfied, he took his fingers out from your mouth and slipped them inside your slick heat.

You jolted and a noise closer to a moan came out from your mouth.

Mahito’s thumb rested on your clit, rubbing sluggish circles over the muscle as his digits went in and out of you.

“Don’t close your legs,” he said, curling his fingers inside your pussy and started making a scissoring motion.

You squirmed, one of your hands found his shoulder and you held onto him to ignore your legs shaking in pleasure.

“Ahh, I can feel it throbbing,” Mahito chuckled, “You’re sucking my fingers in, (name), how naughty.”

“I’m not,” you whined, lifting your hips subconsciously to feel more of his fingers. His fingers reached much deeper inside your pussy than your own fingers ever could.

“Really?” he hummed, he leaned over to your face until his lips brushed against yours. “But you’re moving your hips so cutely.”

When you opened your mouth to deny he took the momentary opportunity to shove his tongue down your throat. His lips moved roughly against your unresponsive ones. He frowned into the kiss and pulled himself away from your face.

His fingers scooped your juices and left the warmth of your pussy. Mahito lifted his fingers up to his lips and he opened his mouth. You watched as he placed his fingers on his tongue before closing his mouth agonizingly slowly with a smile. His lips curled upwards, you heard him moan while licking his own fingers clean.

Funny enough, his voice made more juices leak out from your pussy.

“What a sweet taste,” he said, gazing down at you and licking his lips. “Makes me wonder if it’d taste more vibrant from the source.” Mahito moved between your legs.

Your cheeks flushed red, “Wait, it’s-”

He used his thumbs to spread your folds and chuckled at the sight of wet strands connecting your folds together breaking out slowly. “You’re going to be a good little puppy, right?”

You let out a hot breath, nodding rapidly.

He lapped at your pussy menacingly slowly, savoring your taste greedily.

Your legs shook around his head, your hands immediately went to his hair, gripping tightly while Mahito’s tongue moved between your folds. Lifting your hips up, you pulled his hair when he laid his tongue flat against your clit.

His hands that were spreading your folds slid to your inner thighs and he pinned them down. He pressed his lips on your clit, sluggishly lapping at the muscle and sucking it in his mouth gently.

Your fingers in his hair pushed him towards your cunt, begging for more. You turned your face away as you bit back a moan. Then your eyes landed on the dagger, something was clinging to the back of your mind, you heard your own voice screaming at you to get yourself together but they all disappeared when Mahito inserted his digits inside of you.

His fingers thrust inside, his lips sucked on your clit while his tongue lapped at the muscle one last time before he pulled himself back, leaving you needy.

“Just as I thought, it tastes much better straight from the source.”

He licked his fingers without breaking eye contact.

“You’ve become so much more obedient, (name).” Mahito crawled on top of you, your hands in his hair slid down to his neck, and rested there. “You’re a good little obedient puppy, aren’t you?”

A dreamingly sick smile spread across your face, nodding approvingly.

He matched your smile, amazed by your reaction.

Mahito leaned in for a kiss and this time you kissed him back, you tasted yourself in his mouth. Using your hands, you pulled him closer. His shoulders lowered and rose slightly as he tugged down his pants along with his underwear. He kicked his pants off from his ankles and only a couple of seconds later you felt him drag the tip of his cock between your folds.

He pulled back from the kiss and the second your eyes met his, he shoved the entire length of his cock inside of you. You tensed and yelped as he watched you with dark amusement while his cock stretched your tight virgin walls.

You opened your mouth in a silent scream, his girth was too much, he was filling you up with no gaps. The gummy flesh of your walls pulsated around him, warm blood trickled from the length of his cock and pooled under your bodies, on the concrete.

“You probably didn’t know but our souls are one, only for this moment, (name)!” He cackled, his voice filled with mischief. “Isn’t it great?”

“Yes,” you hissed as he moved. His hips slammed into yours with a disgustingly wet sound.

“Can you feel it?” he asked, pulling back and thrusting in your pussy, growling lowly. “Can you feel how free your soul is?”

You could feel it.

You felt all of your guilts and worries wash away each time he thrust inside.

“This is how animals feel,” he groaned audibly, your walls were squeezing the girth of his cock from tip to the base. You were such a perfect match, you were made for him, your cunt fit him like a glove. This was the only purpose of your existence. “Animals are always free, (name).”

You kept nodding even though his words seemed to go over your head, you were only focused at the firm length moving inside you.

“Do you know why?” he hit a significant spot that made your walls clench around his cock. “It’s because animals don’t know sin, (name).”

He was right.

“I’m taking your innocence, doesn’t that make you happy?”

“Yes!”

He laughed, placing his hands to the back of your knees and pushing them towards your chest. He mercilessly humped your pussy which made you scream in pleasure. His cock was reaching so far deep in this position, it was hitting all the good spots now. You couldn’t help but curl your toes and move your hips to feel more of his cock.

“I won’t allow you to show this face to others.” His grip behind your knees softened, he held you more gently before leaning onto you to whisper his next words, “I’m the only one who can make you feel this free. Don’t forget that.”

You nodded, placing a hand on your stomach and you felt his cock grow bigger inside of you. Your hand pressed against the bulge that had formed from what was moving inside you.

The bulging on your stomach made your eyes roll to the back of your head.

He laughed lowly, you were quite amusing. He snapped his hips forward, you moaned louder this time. Your voice echoed along with his laughter in the sewers.

“Mahito,” you begged, the waves of pleasure from his cock hitting your sweet spot made your voice tremble, “E-enough, please-”

He watched you with his half-lidded eyes intently, ignoring your words as your legs started to shake with each brutal thrust, you were close. He started pulling out from you until only the tip was in your entrance and slamming inside you with his entire length. His pace was like an animal in heat, his balls slapped against your ass each time he thrust inside.

Mahito quickened his pace, his large cock stretched out your virgin walls until they took the shape of his cock. He pushed your legs to your chest and buried his cock even deeper inside of you.

“You’re mine.”

You nodded frantically, his thrusts were punishing. Eventually, your pussy started spasming around his twitching cock. Unable to resist your virgin walls clamping on him any longer, Mahito spilled his thick and hot seed inside your womb.

He growled loudly and continued fucking his cum deep inside of your pussy until the squelching sounds of his cum mixed with yours gushing out from your abused hole started echoing in the sewers.

It was like music to his ears, he was humming to himself, rocking back and forward.

Your body relaxed and fell back on the concrete after he pulled his dick out from you. His cum spilled out from your slick heat and down to the cold concrete to mix with your blood from earlier.

You heard Mahito getting dressed but you were unable to move, your body was exhausted. Your wounds had healed themselves, but the thin layer of dried blood was making your skin itchy.

The last thing you were aware of was the soft tune of your cell phone and it grew more distant as you drifted into slumber, feeling free.

~~~

The next time you opened your eyes, you were staring at the morning sky. The soft sound of trees shaking and birds chirping filled your ears.

You sat up abruptly and looked around in confusion. You were under a bridge, your bag was under your head, your cell phone by your side and you were clutching onto your dagger.

Hastily, you took out your hand mirror from your bag and checked your face. You didn’t look anything out of the ordinary other than your clumped lashes. Your hair was matted from laying on the concrete.

Suddenly, your hand went under your skirt but you couldn’t feel any difference.

What had happened?

Had that happened?

You stood up, clutching your bag and putting the dagger inside. The walk back to the city wasn’t too long as you checked the missed calls on your phone and the worrying amount of messages you had gotten from your lower classmen along with your teachers.

You weren’t sure what had happened. You remembered everything so faintly, each memory was a blur.

Unable to let them suffer like this, you replied to each text by saying that you were back at your own apartment because of a family issue.

The lower classmen believed you but Gojo had texted you to come back to the campus as soon as possible, saying that he would lend an ear and whenever you needed a shoulder to cry on, you had to trust him, he clearly was worried. Yet your mind was a whirlwind of different thoughts, you ignored him.

Back at your apartment, you kicked off your shoes and threw your bag onto the couch before crashing on the couch yourself.

There was something deeply wrong, the stench that lingered on your uniform was unbearable.

So, you stripped yourself from the uniform and filled the bathtub. While your clothes were washing in the machine, you soaked in the bath, letting your muscles relax.

The apartment was empty and quiet, which disturbed you deeply solely because you were forced to be alone with your thoughts until you found the courage to go back to the campus.

You got scolded for leaving without notice and they found out you had stolen a cursed tool. Although you tried to explain how you were using it to improve yourself, you still got detention.

In the end, Gojo didn’t react the way you thought. He didn’t let you practice with others or tried to find a way to build up your cursed energy.

Days passed, you found yourself back in the shadow of everyone else.

Today, you found yourself under the same bridge you woke up a week ago. The night sky was beautiful, the stars sparkled brightly. None of it helped ease your nerves, your stomach churned and the feeling of uneasiness surrounded you.

You hadn’t brought anything with you. Your phone, bag, and good luck charm were back at the campus, in your room.

Not sure what to do, you simply stood there, staring.

The large gate was inviting, the darkness promised to swallow you whole and the stench… was welcoming.

Hesitantly, you took a step forward and then another until you disappeared into the dark sewers.

You walked for hours. Each right you took led to dead ends and each left you took led you back outside. It was like you were going in circles.

Perhaps, you thought, you had imagined that whole thing.

You pressed a hand between your thighs at the memory, your legs were trembling. The trembling turned into violent shaking and your legs gave up from under you.

Planting your hand on the cold concrete, you tried pushing yourself to get back up on your feet but it was futile.

Your eyes were glossy with tears, you couldn’t comprehend why you were crying.

“Ahh,” a familiar voice cooed. “The obedient little puppy came back to its owner.”

Almost immediately you lifted your head. Tears streamed down your face as you stood up and stared at Mahito welcoming you with open arms.

Your lips parted, conflicted if they should curl up to a smile or down to a frown. The feeling that surrounded you wasn’t something you could explain with words.

You rushed to him and crashed into Mahito’s arms and lips. You were fiercely moving your lips against his, your desperation made him laugh into the kiss.

When he finally decided to kiss you back, you were trembling from head to toe, holding onto Mahito. The kiss was wet and tasted salty from your tears but none of you paid any mind.

“(name).” Mahito broke the kiss to wipe away your tears with his thumbs. “Why did you come back?”

He looked amused, not confused enough to ask you that question but that same question was something you had to ask yourself.

“Mahito,” you sobbed, clutching on his shirt, your lower lip wouldn’t stop trembling as you were unable to answer his question.

Were you only obsessed with the idea to live freely without sins or did you want something more than that?

“Nevermind.” Mahito pressed a gentle kiss against your forehead, leaving his lips there for a moment. After you stopped crying, he led you deeper inside the sewers until the darkness consumed the two of you. Your heart was shuddering in your chest, you couldn’t believe how much power he held over you.

It was just Mahito had said, animals lived without guilt, pain, or worry because animals didn’t know sin.

But that statement didn’t matter, you weren’t an animal.

You were a human and your sins would follow you to your death.

And he was a cursed spirit, he didn’t know any sin.

Oh… it was him who was the animal.

A wolf couldn’t be tamed, you remembered. You weren’t the wolf. You were a domestic wolf tasting the sweet freedom for the first time. No… you were only a puppy.

A small puppy following after the big bad wolf.

[itookyoudown]

1,3,9

kerri ilu

1. what's the fic you're most proud of?

a thousand lies and a good disguise. this is my baby and i am so, so proud of it. not only is it the pride and joy of my fanfics, but it's also just full-stop the pride and joy of my entire writing portfolio. i'm more proud of this fic than the short story i had in a literary journal and the books i've published that make me money. i literally don't care that it's a little gay bittersweet love story about superhero marines and is a weird fusion fanfic between justified and the boys.

if i ever had a gun to my head and had to read aloud my writing to prove i'm actually pretty good at writing to survive, i'd pick this one in a heartbeat.

3. what fic are you emotionally attached to?

hurt me some (that's the point). This was basically me launching off the prompt and writing the exact sort of fic I wanted to read. My little love note to Givenson inspired by my favorite fics about the pairing and my enduring interest in the possibility of these two dudes getting together. This was also me finetuning my Raylan + Tim voices and finally nailing their characterization in a way that felt natural. Any time I doubt my take on Givenson, I peek at this fic to give myself a pep talk.

I've become so emotionally attached to this fic that I've yet to write the second chapter that I always intended to write for it. I'm genuinely afraid of not being able to write a worthy follow-up and get the mood right again.

Gatekeeping myself from my own fic so I don't ruin it lol!!

9. what's your writing process like?

I tend to get a lighting strike of inspiration based on a vague vibe/tone/concept or one particular concrete line or a snippet of dialogue. This idea will then fester and I'll set out to write some shit down either to exorcise it from my brain because I don't want it there or I have to get it out and into the world before it's lost forever in the deep dark well of my mind.

A fic doesn't "click" in my head until I get down the very first/opening sentence, a few strings of dialogue, some establishing lines that serve as waymarks, and a tentative final line. I often daydream as I'm figuring these out. I listen to a lot of songs on repeat lol. Sometimes I'll go on a bout of research. Or watch movies/read books or other fanfics for inspiration.

I also forge ahead and make a draft of the fanfic on AO3. Deciding on the title, tags, and summary helps finalize the fic in my head and makes it seem real and achievable. It gives me the confidence to actually write the damn thing. It's also influenced by having published. Title+Blurb+Cover+Keywords is the golden gospel of ebooks, so I carry over that sentiment into fanfics with Title+Tags+Summary.

I do vague outlines, but nothing super detailed. I fill up the space between the waymarks with actual writing and expand from there. Often I'll give myself a wordcount goal, but I don't beholden myself to it. I have a terrible habit of editing as I write and that means sometimes I get stuck on a certain paragraph for a long time until I get it "right". This is also why it takes me forever and a day to update my WIPs!

I don't rewrite or delete sections though. At most I'll cut things and adapt them for different projects. I write mainly in Scrivener and then copy+paste into Google Docs for editing with Grammarly before posting a fic.

(For the deep fic writer asks meme.)

[that-bi-bitch-writes]

A Cursed Reality- JJk x Male Reader (Ch.5)

This chapter is a little longer than usual and very dialogue heavy. (also plenty of swearing). Sorry if the scene is disappointing but I'm not super good at fight scenes and I'm hoping to develop them as I go on. Also if I made [Name] OP then everything would be over too quickly.

Let me know what you think about the chapter in the comments (or the tags!!) enjoy

Last || Next

Chapter Five:

“Kugisaki-chan. Be honest with me. On a scale of Gojo to Yuji how stupid do you think I am?”

“Eh? Do you really want me to answer that?”

“... Yes”

“If I had to pick an idiot I’d say Gojo-sensei. He at least has the brain power to understand jujutsu. I mean he’s a childish and immature old man who ignores what’s staring him right in his face but he wouldn’t ask me what animal the pink panther was.”

[Name] uttered out a confused thank you before thinking ‘I have got to stop starting conversations like this’

He almost never gets the answer he wants. It’s like as soon as he asks the question he becomes humanized and not a mysterious special grade sorcerer a few seconds from ending someone’s life for finishing off the fruit snacks. (Based on a true story. Gojo can confirm.)

“You’re welcome. Why’d you ask anyway?”

“Actually I think I’ll jinx it if I talk about it. Plus I don’t want you to think poorly of your ‘superiors’ but let’s just say there are people plotting behind my back and I’m wondering if I have idiot written across the top of my head”

“Okay... “

“On a lighter note, do you think any of the other first years know how close we are?”

“I was asked whether or not the Pink Panther was a lion and spoken to in 6 word sentences just yesterday. You’re the only person I can hang out with. The other two are people I spend time with”

“What about Maki?”

“That’s totally different. You should know you have a totally different relationship with Gojo and Inumaki.”

“Explain”

“You and Gojo fight and tease each other like siblings or something and you and Inumaki spend time alone. Together. And sometimes you like go out and eat food and stuff”

“You make it sound like we’re dating”

“You’re not?”

“No”

“Hmm”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[Name] absolutely hates talking on the phone and everyone knows this. Facetime has been like a happy medium whenever people need to get in touch with him but it’s still extremely annoying to have to have a face to face conversation over the phone.

“Why are you calling me Gojo?”

“My precious little [Name] I was just checking up on you to see how your day off is going?”

“It was going fine until you called and interrupted my peace”

“Don’t be like that [Name] I know you miss me”

“As if- No puppy- WAIT!”

Gojo furrowed his eyebrows “[Name]-chan?”

“Hmm?”

“Since when do you have a pet?”

“I made Fushiguro give me one of his divine dogs”

“Aww. That’s so sweet of Megumi. But you can’t keep calling him puppy. Give him a real name”

“He does have a real name I call him yu-yu”

“So who were you calling Puppy?”

“...Yuji”

“.....”

“Don’t make it weird”

“It’s already weird”

“Look me in the camera and tell me he doesn’t remind you of like a golden retriever or somethin”

“You made several points but still”

“It’s supposed to be derogatory”

“It’s a pet name”

“He’s hyper, adorable and excitable. I’m pointing out the obvious. Me calling him puppy has the same energy as calling someone four eyes”

“It does not”

“....I have to go Yuji just found out about Megan Thee Stallion”

----------------------------------------------

“Are you a Fall out boy emo or like Lorde sad boy?”

“That’s a loaded question”

“It most definitely is” [Name] replied holding back laughter “But I can like, vibe to either one so just play whatever music you like and I’ll enhance the atmosphere.”

“...Okay”

That day was definitely the most relaxed Fushiguro had been in weeks, and [Name] learned some very interesting things about Fushiguro’s…. tastes. They definitely had some things in common.

-------------------------------------------------

“You’re sending me on a mission”

“Yes”

“Alone?”

“[L.Name] you’re a special grade sorcerer. You can handle a first-grade curse on your own”

“I most definitely can, but so can others. Both Gojo and Okkotsu are away on missions. Are you telling me in your expert wisdom, you’re making the choice to dispatch all of the Special Grade sorcerer’s for first-grade curses? What if something happens on home turf.”

“I assure you if there’s an attack on the school Principal Yaga can handle the threat.”

“I’m not talking about the school.”

There was a brief silence in which [Name] just stared “You have your orders”

“I do”

And [Name] absolutely did have his orders. Ones that aligned with his personal feelings. You see, a little while ago Gojo ordered [Name] to protect Yuji. And if anything were to happen to the precious angel, it would be the one day that both he and Gojo were away. Yaga cares more for the rules than Gojo or [Name]. That was one thing [Name] didn’t like about both Yaga and Nanami. They cared about the kids, but only to an extent. In their eyes the kids would die out or grow older but rules wouldn’t change, and Yuji’s life mattered less to them than the stagnant outdated rules.

The larger problem was whether or not [Name] was willing to face the consequences for not following orders from the “respected” higher ups. Then there was the whole issue of actual people being in danger and that wouldn’t go over well, not with the old assholes nor with [Name]’s conscience.

‘I fucking hate Satoru.’ [Name] thought as he set out to do actual work. Ever since he got sent on that mission he found himself caring for more and more people. If he was going to exorcise the curse and return to make sure Yuji and the others first years were all safe, he would have to race against the clock. There was no doubt in his mind that something was going to happen today and he knew Sukuna wouldn’t let Yuji die without a fight.

---------------------------------------------------------------

“What the actual fuck is going on anymore?? THREE FIRST YEARS WERE SENT TO DEFEAT A WHAT?” [Name] yelled into the phone

“A cursed womb”

“Say it as it really is Ijichi! They were sent in to fight a fucking special grade curse. They’re barely equipped to fight a second grade curse, and it isn’t as if having you there is going to help them much”

Ijichi flinched at that. [Name] only went for low blows when he was pissed, and it was obvious pretty soon someone would have to face his wrath. And because he knew what was best for his safety and peace of mind, Ijichi answered [Name]’s question before he asked

“I warned them not to engage a special grade so they should be fine until you get here. I lowered the curtain myself so you’ll be able to get in. They’re at Eishu Juvenile Detention Center”

“I’ll be there in 10”

[Name] would probably make it in less time than that but he always made sure to be careful with making promises. There was always a chance he would run into some issues on the way there. Grabbing his things, he set out for the detention center hoping Nobara and Megumi were okay. Yuji was stronger than those two, though Megumi could be a suicidal idiot at times. If things got anymore serious they’d let Sukuna out, but that would be a whole other problem.

“Ijichi, i’m here”

“...[Name]”

“What?”

“Kugisaki is hurt. I'm driving back to the school.”

“If you’re driving back, why is the curtain still up?”

“Fushiguro went back in to deal with Sukuna who’s more than likely already taken care of the curse I recommend-”

[Name] hung up. “Fucking rule followers and their precious higher ups. And look what a mess I have to take care of” he said as he looked up at the curtain. He sighed and then walked through

“I don’t feel a curse- is that megumi” [Name] thought aloud

“He ain’t coming back” Sukuna teased “Don’t worry I’m in a good mood. Let’s talk”

“I’m not feeling particularly chatty” [Name] called out. Fushiguro and Sukuna turned to the second year in shock

“Fushiguro you should go”

“No. I’m not leaving you alone. And besides it’s my responsibility-”

“Do you think I’m here to kill Yuji?”

“...”

“I’m here to rescue your sorry asses. I was sent on a mission earlier and came back in a hurry to make sure you were okay. I’m a little sad I don’t get to meet the curse that hurt poor Kugisaki-chan but he’ll make do” [Name]’s voice became darker the longer he went on

“My fighting skill is nowhere near the level of Maki’s, but my cursed technique on the other hand… Don’t worry, Yuji’ll make it out alive”

Fushiguro hesitated. He trusted [Name], it was Sukuna who was the problem. The curse was cunning and took advantage of Fushiguro’s hesitation to enact his plan

“It seems he’s having a hard time changing back” Sukuna started “This must be a side effect of using me without restrictions. It’s most likely only a matter of time though… So i’ve been thinking about my next move.”

Before [Name] or Fushiguro could realize, Sukuna had ripped Yuji’s heart out, smiling as blood dripped out of his mouth and the gaping hole in his chest. The two of them froze. If he were at his best [Name] would’ve been able to stop Sukuna from continuing to monologue or even from swallowing another of his fingers. But he had defeated a first grade curse, dealt with the higher ups and rushed to the first years’ rescue within 3 hours.

Fushiguro seemed to follow the conversation as [Name] just stood there, his ears ringing as if he were standing too close to a bomb that went off.

“Itadori will return” Megumi said confidently “Even if it means his death. He’s that kind of guy”

And Megumi was right, [Name] knew of it. So he made a sacrifice. Fushiguro would have to deal with Sukuna while [Name] figured out what to do next. With two fingers Sukuna might’ve been able to resist [Name]’s compulsion. ‘No’ he thought ‘it would take a few more fingers before he was that strong.’

“Stop”

The both of them froze in place. There was a trail of blood running down Yuji’s chest but [Name] could tell Sukuna had done more damage to Megumi than Megumi had done to Yuji’s body

“Stay out of my way Megumi” [Name] said before looking in Sukuna’s eyes “Yuji, if you can hear me. I’m sorry”

“This brat’s not worth the effort” Sukuna smirked. He may not have been able to move but he was going to try and tempt the second year into losing his composure.

“Choke”

Sukuna began to gargle on the blood that was supposed to be pumping through Yuji’s body. Choking, he fell on the ground. Megumi’s eyes widened and he moved to say something but [Name] shot him a desperate, angry look picking up Yuji’s discarded heart shoving it into the empty cavity.

“Heal Him”

“It’s too late [Name]”

“Yuji?? No! NO! YUJI! SWITCH BACK I CAN MAKE HIM HEAL YOU”

“Megumi. [Name]. And Kugisaki and Gojo-sensei. Well I guess I don’t have to worry about him. Live a long life okay?” Yuji smiled as tears dripped onto his face

“I Heard A Rumor” [Name] whispered “That nothing happened and you were gonna be okay”

“What a nice rumor senpai” “Yuji whispered back before the light in his eyes faded

Fushiguro laid a hand on [Name]’s shoulder looking up to the sky as he tried to keep from crying. [Name] let out a pained scream shocking Fushiguro. Megumi wrapped his arms around [Name] trying to pull him up and meeting resistance Fushiguro just walked toward the exit before stopping. Without looking back he said “I’ll send Gojo to collect you both” and then walked off.

Gojo did come back to pick up the body and the shell shocked [Name] but when he showed up there was nothing there. As if the land behind the two had just up and walked away. Gojo wasn’t informed of [Name]’s rumor but assumed the boy did it out of rage. He was the only one able to wipe a location off the map so cleanly. What he didn’t realize that if the land had returned to its natural state as if nothing had ever happened, Yuji was bound to be okay

[random-thought-depository]

One thing I definitely had on the brain writing this post is... when I get around to actually writing that The Sisters of Dorley/Glow, Worm crossover fanfic, I think probably the hardest thing about doing so will be imitating the original author's narrative voice. For starters there's the fact I'll have to learn British spelling, but it's more than that. That person writes very differently from me. I tried writing a small bit of rough draft of the fanfic I had in mind a while back, as an experiment, and it came out very jarringly not being at all like the original story stylistically. That is definitely something I'll have to work on!

I think what I'll probably do is try my best to write characters I read as neurotypical in their style and then write characters I read as kinda-sorta cousin-y to me kind of neurodivergent in my own natural style, to create a sense of different characters having different internal mental voices and processing the world in different ways. This will correspond probably not perfectly but pretty heavily to "characters from the original story get their internal point of view sections written in my best facsimile of the original author's writing style, OCs get their internal point of view sections written in my style, the more they're noted as visibly neurodivergent the more I lean into things that are 'weird' about the way I write while writing their internal point of view sections."

I mean, I'm not sure if "neurotypical" is quite the right word here, cause I think transness itself is probably a neurodivergence, and it definitely will be in this setting, but, I mean, like, neurotypical aside from that.

Like, yeah, I'm not sure this is exactly correct, but when I try to articulate how their writing style is different from mine a phrase that pops into my mind is "they have neurotypical writing." My impressions are:

It's very workmanlike. I don't mean that as an insult, it's in a sense very elegantly functional. It doesn't draw much attention to itself, it gets out of the way and serves as an efficient mechanism for telling the reader what's happening and how people are interacting. It uses very ordinary "how regular people talk" vocabulary and phrasing and sentence structure. It's kind of efficiently terse; it moves quickly and smoothly. And there's differences in the way we treat physicality/the body that I find interesting.

It's interesting, because I've seen notes in Glow, Worm and things on the author's Twitter about her being a chronic pain sufferer; she says right in the introduction of Glow, Worm "I also may or may not be exorcising some of my demons, as a woman with chronic pain, through Viv," but to me most her characters read as, like, really healthy-coded (I wonder if it's the product of a deliberate effort to write normal people from someone who knows their experience is not typical).

Like, I'm thinking of this post that's floating around that's like "friendly reminder that the average person's normal pain level is zero" and my reaction to that is "sounds fake but OK, guess I'm an unfortunate outlier." And I think about my impressions of how The Sisters of Dorley and Glow, Worm treats the body, and I'm like "oh, it's describing the internal experiences of people who have a normal pain level of zero! That's how you relate to physicality if that's your lived experience!" And, like, Viv feels like an exception that proves the rule here, like she and Jill feel like the only people with hurty uncooperative bodies in a cast otherwise full of people who have smoothly functioning mostly pain-free bodies (in Dorley, the only person who comes across as having that sort of body issues is Aaron - it's briefly mentioned that he has a damaged arm). Probably most fiction reads like this and I just don't notice it much like 99.99% of the time, but it's really noticeable here because embodiment and the vulnerability of the body is so extremely relevant to Dorley.

And it's not necessarily about pain per se, it's more like, if you have a smoothly functioning body with a normal pain level of zero and there's nothing hard to deal with going on in it, you aren't stimulated to think so much about the fact that you're fragile and an animal and made out of meat, you experience your body as in a way unobtrusive. And, like, it's not that everyone there has an unproblematic relationship with their bodies, of course Gemma and like just about everyone in Dorley are going to have some kind of complicated and fraught feelings about their bodies, but they're mostly about the social body, the ways other people react to their bodies, whether they think their bodies are beautiful or not. And the idea of damage/injury to bodies definitely shows up (Bea's and Maria's old scars, Dorley's whole... thing), but it's past damage, it's... not really the same thing as what Viv has or what I wrote Annaliese's and Ruth's human selves as having.

And, like, one thing I've been mentally pulling on a little here that I think shows this is the way Elle is originally portrayed vs. the basically an OC I've extrapolated out from her canon portrayal. Like, thinking about what I said about there being a lot of parallels between the way I'm writing her and Brett Devereaux's analysis of Saruman...

One parallel I didn't mention there is one I see specifically with movie Saruman. One thing I like about Christopher Lee's performance is he really gives me a sense that Saruman enjoys the experience of having power; that he really enjoys the experience of telling the Uruk Hai what to do and having them act subservient to him and talking about the powerful creatures and powerful army he controls. And I'm absolutely writing Elle as having that. It's more hidden with her, but she absolutely likes power in that way. 100% she's the sort of self-aware where when she watches the LOTR movies her reaction to watching this scene is "Inshallah, basically me in ten or twenty or thirty years, and I think I'm going to have about as much fun with it as he's having."

And she's personally a very physically strong and resilient person with superpowers, so this extends to her own body. She absolutely loves the fact that she is strong and resilient even by vampire standards. Like, there is a reason her elevator pitch for vampirization is smashing up a concrete pillar with her fists, stabbing herself in the stomach and letting the other person watch the wound heal in like five minutes while she calmly stands there, encouraging them to dig their fingers around in the wound to confirm that it's real while being like "this doesn't hurt much for me, my pain threshold is set at a level appropriate for my physical resilience," and then when that show's over telling the other person "as a vampire you will be about as strong and resilient as I am."

And this is very much a reaction to past vulnerability, she remembers being human and being both socially and physically weak even among humans and being abused because of that and those are not good memories for her, she enjoys being strong and having power like this because it comforts her, she associates that kind of power with safety. Like, yeah, that's definitely a subtext I intended for that bit with Grandmother, she intensely did not like that moment of physical vulnerability.

And obviously this is all my invention and extrapolation cause canon keeps her portrayal as totally compatible with her just being a weird human, but, like, it's interesting to compare this with how her power is portrayed in the original story, where her power looks like this:

"Bea’s had a long time to perfect her womanhood, to understand it, to claim it and inhabit it, but Elle Lambert has a way of making her feel like an ingénue. Her heels announce her presence, crisply clicking on the flagstones outside, and by the time she reaches the kitchen doors, Barb — another one of Maria’s circle, who adopted the rather old-fashioned name Barbara with an enthusiasm entirely familiar to Bea; God only knows what Grandmother and the sponsors call her, but it’s unlikely to be anything like as wholesome — has already stepped smartly forward to let her in, as if she’s royalty, and the abused girls of Dorley her retinue. Elle steps elegantly through the door and smiles at the girl, inspiring in Barb a blush Bea thinks could probably cook an egg, and passes to her a shopping bag.

“Gifts for the girls,” Elle says to her, and Barb rushes back to the women standing by the wall, who all look equal parts delighted and scandalised.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Barb says, as the other girls rifle through and pull out tops, skirts, shoes. She performs an exaggerated curtsey, which earns her a glare from Frankie that no-one bar Bea seems to notice.

“Please call me Elle.”

Elle steps forward and deposits a portable hard drive on the kitchen table. She’s short — shorter than Bea and the younger Dorley graduates; shorter even than Grandmother and most of her people, too — but she commands the room effortlessly, with a manner that belies her twenty-five years and which Bea, despite being over a decade her senior, has been trying to emulate since the day they met. She’s pale and subtly made-up, and her rich, thick waves of dark hair break on the shoulders of a suit worth enough, in Bea’s judgement, to feed a family of four for a year. The only woman in the room who doesn’t look dowdy in comparison is Maria, who has today assembled with unexpected skill an elegant outfit from the meagre scraps allowed the girls; Grandmother’s coterie, already given to a particularly English variety of rural tweed anti-fashion, look positively antique." - The Sisters of Dorley, Chapter 16.

And, like, there's totally connective tissue! I very much see her enjoying that sort of power in a Saruman-like way too. And, like, "as if she’s royalty, and the abused girls of Dorley her retinue" - absolutely not a long stretch at all from that to relating to the graduate school girls in something like the way Saruman relates to the Uruk Hai, and yeah very on-brand if her equivalent of the "you will taste manflesh!" stuff involves this sort of small kindnesses.

But, you know...

There's definitely a difference in the way I and the original author approach her embodiment in a way that I think goes beyond me making the vampire thing explicit.

[mrpenguinpants]

Oh! Sorry for the late reply, but it’s not canon lore, haha. Part of me hopes it kinda was just to give Keqing a bit more introspection but alas, Mihoyo has tens of different characters to make so it’s understandable. I thought of it as a modern au type of thing where Keqing ends up moving in a apartment complex only to be greeted with men she has to babysit as the price JHDJSHDJSJ– It’s a fun little idea, and at first, she hates them all but eventually, walking outside of her place for a free meal becomes an escape of sorts. Ningguang, her dreaded co-worker, makes sure she doesn’t hear the end of it and is like “Please, you’re almost 27 nowz. Get yourself a man already, you have quite the options.”

Also, congrats on getting Xiao! I haven’t gotten him yet but at the end of his banner, I think I can make around 20 rolls so here’s hoping he’ll come with those!

No worries at all, I take FOREVER to reply to anyone. Plus this week was midterms so I’m still recovering from that if you’re wondering why I’ve been so silent. Ahh I see, I still need to read Keqing’s lore but until then 👀 I am fully invested in this. We’ll make a 180k word slow burn fic together. Honestly, I really want to write some Chongyun, Xingqiu, Xinyan, and Xiao interactions. My brainworm mind wants Xingqiu to be the biggest little shit and tells Chongyun that there’s a demon that needs to be exorcised at Wangshu inn. Turns out it’s Xiao but Chongyun being the trusting friend that he is, doesn’t believe Xingqiu would lie to me and fully believes Xiao is a demon. Xiao doesn’t know how to socialize and he doesn’t know how to handle interactions so it’s this entire goose chase. Xinyan comes along because she’s always wanted to see a demon. I can imagine her yelling “DEMON! COME OUT YOU COWARD!” while Xiao is gripping onto the roof beam above them for dear life so he doesn’t get found out. 

Ahh, I get that mihoyo wants to bust out new content but it also makes me sad that it will probably be awhile before we get Part 2 to anything. But oh well, I guess we can always make stuff up for part 2′s before Mihoyo proceeds to shred them apart haha. I love modern au, where everything is fine and happy and no one dies. Especially now since we’re all in self-isolation. It’s not much but being able to write is actually kinda therapeutic. Speaking of which, it’s valentines day today. I almost forgot because well, I’m asexual so no relationships for me, so I kinda forgot feb 14 had any importance haha. But hopefully you all that have partners stay safe if you plan on spending today together and for us single folk, hang out with friends^^ I’m having a movie/game night with everyone and I’m pretty excited. 

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But getting back on track. I love roommate schneegans. When I first read this with my sleep deprived brain, I thought you meant that she had to live with the same people she had to babysit when they were children. That’d be so awkward but funny haha. I can imagine Childe being such a wholesome kid like Teucer that when Keqing meets him again when he’s an adult she’s so sad. You were such a cute kid, where did things go wrong? This also applies to Diluc (RIP DILUC MAN) and Kaeya. 

Diluc is so socially constipated that he acts rude af because he doesn’t know how to socialize. Reminds me of the type of guy that is thinking of cute puppies but as the scariest resting bitch face. The amount of emotional range he has makes Keqing wonder if he’s secretly planning on burning the apartment complex down to the ground or if he’s slept in the past week. He hasn’t. Man is crumbling so he’s gonna make the world crumble down with him in his woe is me bullshit (jk I love you Diluc). Keqing makes the customary “Hi, nice to meet you. I’m your new neighbor” but Diluc is actually running on fumes (he’s filter feeding at his point) that he looks so scary that Keqing almost runs away. Then the next day she sees him exit his home and he cleaned up so well that Keqing doesn’t recognize him. Assumed that Diluc lived with a brother that was in dire help. So she always offers him weird pick me up items and Diluc doesn’t know how to handle gifts so he just accepts them. He doesn’t know what the fuck she’s talking about since he lives alone but he assumes she’s some random cat lady. 

Kaeya is such an ass. Like actually awful. Was the kind of guy to pull the fire alarm just to get out of class for the day. Probably does it in the apartment just to mess with Diluc, which inheritably messes with Keqing very fragile beauty sleep, but he always manages to escape with a slap on the wrist. Keqing has lost so much faith in the justice system after that. He seemed like such a nice guy, well in comparison to her first meetings with Diluc, until he found out she had a fear of frogs and proceeded to mail her a package of them. She’s been haunted by nightmares of waking up to one on her face and she’s wondering if she can get away with setting his home on fire and getting away the same way he does from pulling the fire alarm. It seems like poetic irony but as soon as she thinks this Kaeya is messaging her “don’t do it”. She doesn’t know how he got her phone number and she’s not going to find out. 

Zhongli was the guy she went to highschool with where she had the fattest crush on. He still looks the exact same just taller and she can feel her inner agony seeping up when she spots him. Then proceeds to internally wail when they both enter the elevator and they live on the same floor. She’s internally begging and pleading that Zhongli doesn’t recognize her, but of fucking course he does and he remembers every little detail. The most deadpan face as he asks her if she still has the zhongli pin that some crazy club made for the student council they were both apart of. What pisses her off the most is that he’s actually genuinely curious and isn’t trying to make a stab at her. She hates him with every fiber of her being. 

Childe seemed like such a cute kid (I fully believe he’s younger than Keqing, you cannot take this away from my cold dead heads) and he mentioned how he was moving away from his family but he misses his cute little sisters and brothers. Keqing felt so much wholesome love in her body until Childe mistaken her as being younger than him and messed up her hair. She almost screamed bloody murder but made the quick correction that she was in fact, much older than him. Which was the wrong fucking move because he became the biggest little shit. Kept calling her old with weak bones, “when are you going to fossilize?” that she’s sure if there wasn’t a law against second degree murder, she would do it right then and there. 

---

I totally went off on a tangent right there haha. But yeah, I can imagine them all going to each other places for free meals and it’s actually some wholesome stuff. Kaeya and Diluc relive their childhood brother antics, Childe comes from a big family so he doesn’t get sad when he eats alone, Keqing gets to take a break and turn her brain off from work, and Zhongli is just happy to spend time with others after being in self-isolation and losing his wife (Jesus, reading this back I am so sorry Guizhong and Zhongli. This got so depressing holy shit). 

“Please, you’re almost 27 nowz. Get yourself a man already, you have quite the options.” LOL I LOVE THAT SENTENCE HAHA. But ty^^ I’m so glad he came home with diluc. I BELIEVE IN YOU!! YOU’RE GONNA GET HIM. BRING YOUR MAN HOME!! I kinda wanna write some roommate hcs in my brainworm style. I’m going to go write that. Hang on. I’ll be back. 

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Happy Valentine’s Day everyone! Love from me 💕💕💕 

[tros-for-dinner]

Like, okay, I need to talk about trauma a second

I’m reading The Body Keeps the Score right now - it’s a pretty comprehensive book about PTSD and trauma, and treatment of trauma-related mental illnesses and, like, I just keep thinking about Kylo (Ben)

In one sentence: Kylo is a deeply traumatized man and I can’t stop thinking about it.

As a general rule I don’t care about the ancillary materials, but “absentee parents” and “being left with droid caretakers that tried to kill him” is trauma - he didn’t have someone to comfort him and his usual caretakers weren’t safe. He probably started acting out, as what happens to kids that go through that. He was also deeply empathetic (metaphorically represented by being strong in the Force) so every lie that was told to him, every time someone feared him because of his ancestors, every time someone tried to use him because of his family - those are all wounds, too. Then, maybe because he was acting out, maybe because he was a deeply religious kid, he goes to live the ascetic life with his beloved Uncle Luke.

And I know this is my own headcanon, but knowing what I now know about trauma: he was still suffering the emotional effects of trauma. The fear, the mistrust, the anxiety, the anger - his fellow Force-sensitive students (and Luke) could feel those emotions. In the Jedi tradition, you either shut that shit down or you’re assumed to be on the road to the Dark Side.

Here’s the problem: the fear, the anxiety, the anger triggered by the pain of trauma can’t just be meditated away. It’s fight/flight instinct; it’s literally the oldest, most sub-conscious part of the brain reacting to the memory of pain and trying to prevent future pain. You can’t control it. You can’t reason with it. You either heal it or it controls you.

Luke can feel that his methods aren’t working but he hasn’t been trained in psychology so he has no idea how to fix this problem. Luke is deeply afraid of the Dark Side, and he was taught that emotions - a deeply-rooted function of the brain - are inherently ‘evil’ and cause self-destruction for the Jedi. Luke has a “all or nothing” “either I do it all or I’m a failure” mindset so he starts feeling despair at the bitter taste of failure. One night, out of pure fear, he takes an uninhibited look into his nephew’s mind (notably, without his consent) and sees how bad things could be in the future. For an instant, he honestly considers killing Ben to prevent that future from happening.

Here’s a question: what would you do if you woke up to a trusted, beloved family member pointing a loaded, safety-off shotgun at you, and you could feel without a doubt that they were definitely ready to kill you?

You would feel abject terror. Wounds from trusted loved ones can be the most painful, and this was a wound that eclipsed every other in Ben’s life. He escapes, and then falls into the hands of Snoke.

(I hate how the ancillary materials totally erased Ben’s agency by making Snoke influence his mind even before he was born. Grooming from a young age? That would have been fine. But as it is, it’s a supernatural element that oversimplifies and makes unbelievable a story that could have been more powerful.)

In my mind, Snoke doesn’t even have to be Force-sensitive: his gift is that he can tell what people wants, and he controls those people by promising what they want (and getting his victims just close enough to what they want so they keep coming back for more).

So he sees Ben and sees the perfect mark: someone who believes they’re inherently a bad person (drowning in shame, an instinct that is extremely self-isolating), enraged with pain, who has been indoctrinated into black-and-white thinking by the culture/religion he grew up in.

Snoke promises Ben 1. respect (i.e. a form of connection in which you don’t have to be vulnerable) and 2. power (which appeals to Ben’s helplessness).

All of us wear different “hats” depending on the situation we’re in: at work, we wear Customer Service or Manager hats. At home, we wear Caregiver or Partner or Roommate hats. Walking out to our cars in the dark, or taking the bus in a bad neighborhood, we might swagger with a Don’t Fuck With Me attitude. We hide or reveal parts of our personality depending on the tools we need in the situation.

Ben creates a persona to hide his shame, protect himself from vulnerability, and deaden the part of his conscience that objects to being part of an organization that is hurting people like his family was hurt. This persona is named Kylo Ren, and it uses the mask and robes like a magic spell to summon the gravitas and influence of his ancestor. But most importantly, the mask and robes shield him from the outside world as protection, but also to hide his shame and any emotions that aren’t ‘acceptable’ (’acceptable’ being anger, mostly).

The thing about shame is that it separates us from the people around us, preventing us from making meaningful connections. This is devastating to the human mind, because humans survive in groups (and our brain evolved to seek groups out). Bringing shame out into the light in the presence of someone you trust is usually enough to exorcise it.

Kylo doesn’t have anyone he can trust, and he is drowning in shame. He is totally isolated and knows he’s nothing but a weapon in Snoke’s hand. Snoke cultivates his shame and isolation because it makes Kylo easy to control. But then, totally by happenstance, Kylo meets Rey.

I hear people talk about ‘the power of love’ and I used to think it was total bullshit. I realize now that’s because visual media usually simplifies ‘love’ into ‘physical attraction’. In reality, love contains a spectrum of elements that are essential to a healthy, functioning mind. Specifically: a place you feel safe (a place where you feel trust, where you feel genuine connection, where you feel wanted, where you feel heard and seen and understood). The entire spectrum of intimacy (emotional, physical, and sexual) spans this need for a place to feel safe and known.

So Kylo meets this girl and a couple of things happen. 1. he realizes he isn’t actually alone. There is someone in the whole of the galaxy who might be his equal. 2. Totally inadvertently, Rey exposes his deepest shame (that he can’t live up to the legacy, that he is hurting himself for nothing) and brings it out into the light.

And, like, all of that would be disrupting enough, but then something even more important happens. See, Snoke built the expectation in Kylo’s mind that if Kylo cut away everyone who loved him, Kylo would be stronger, would be more powerful. Kylo gets the opportunity to cut away his father in the most final way - to kill him - and he takes the opportunity.

As soon as he kills Han - the very second after he ignites his saber - he realizes that Snoke was lying. It didn’t make him more powerful, it just makes things worse.

So while he’s reeling from that realization, his mind instinctively reaches out for connection, for people who might understand. I once read a meta that the Force Skype scenes in TLJ are initiated when Rey feels lonely, which I totally 100% buy into, but I’d suggest the connection happens when both of them are feeling lonely or hurt.

As far as I’m concerned, they bridged their own minds - Snoke took credit because he knew that would be devastating to Ben. Ben and Rey experience emotional intimacy and through their connection, they both start to heal a little from their individual traumas.

I went on a bit of a tangent there but here’s what I’m trying to get to: trauma doesn’t just go away. You don’t just flip a switch, forget about the past, and move on with your life. If you don’t heal, then that trauma and the damage to your brain persists. It takes time and an enduring safe place to heal. So I’m sitting here, trying to imagine what that healing could look like in-universe. And I’m just thinking about the fact that Episode 9 could have been about healing. They gave Rey the gift of healing. The moviemakers had a love story all wrapped up in a bow that could have been a metaphor for the healing power of love. They had all these traumatized characters that could have experienced healing. We, the audience, could have experienced the healing power of catharsis.

And in conclusion, I’m just thinking about Adam Driver performing this incredibly relatable character and TLJ’s Reylo and Luke&Rey plotlines being what they are - and just feeling deep gratitude. 

[homosexualslug]

Sam Questions, made by @gaysuperhell and tagged by @blahdose(gaysuperhell this is the best tumblr questionnaire I have ever seen thank u for ur service) - Sibling status (younger, middle, older, only child)*

*TECHNICALLY oldest but was raised separately so I have only child energy - How long have you been stanning Sam for: Honestly since I started watching 2007/S3ish, I always vibed with Sam more than Dean. Nowadays I'm a SPN Ladies stan first and equal parts Cas and Sam stan second, Dean is just the most fun to psychoanalyze - Favorite SPN Season, but if the only criteria was Sam’s hair: SEASON EIGHT! It's so lush and beautiful and POWERFUL! Sometimes I just stare at it instead of paying attention to whatever's happening! - Favorite Sam-centric episode: Mystery Spot is still a fave because of him, boy really went through the spectrum of human emotion in those 50 minutes. Runner-ups: After School Special, The Man Who Knew Too Much, and Just My Imagination (I have a soft spot for young Sam lore) -Favorite Sam era: Season 4! He is no longer baby, he want power! But only because he thinks he's saving the world! Also, can't call it a whole arc but the taste we got of Samwitch throughout S13-S15 makes yearn for more. -Favorite song you would/have put in a Sam playlist: Don't have a Sam playlist but do have a very Sam-esque OC so tie between "Bottom of the Deep Blue Sea" by Missio, "Dark Speed" by Failure, and "Undefeated" by Incubus with honorable mention to Marina's "Bubblegum Bitch"

-Any ships you may like to mention: Saileen since Day 1, SamRuby (yeah yeah I know but look), Samwena (enjoy them as platonic mentor/mentee too), Sastiel (also enjoy as chaotic besties but damn if they wouldn't have been healthier for each other), Sam and Max Banes had potential - If you could steal one thing from Sam’s wardrobe, it would be: Purple dog shirt or the Hoodie™️ from 15x06 - You must have some intense headcanons you need to talk about, tell me one Sam hc that drives you insane: Stealing from HBO SPN - that Sam's a health nut because fruits/veggies don't have salt and won't make his throat burn because demon blood! - Complete the sentence: If Sam cishet, then WHY....: queer allegory about being kicked out by his dad and having something wrong with him? HMMM - Favorite unhinged Sam moment: Outside of all of Season 4 I'd also say 1) exorcising a half-dozen demons at once in My Bloody Valentine 2) third act of Mystery Spot and 3) literally shooting GOD - Tell me something about the HBO Sam that lives in your brain: Salt allergy, reflex whispering "christo" to see if hurts, angel healing makes him sick, etc. - Biggest injustice Supernatural commited against Sam (be as brief or as ranty as you desire): Boy oh boy 1) Ignoring most of his post-S7 trauma (Gadreel, BMOL torture, Lucifer, losing the hunters, etc) because the writers relied on him bouncing back faster than Dean 2) Never letting him know THE Voicemail was fake! 3) Blurry Wife because the misogyny of it all is so 2005 4) Being blamed for the apocalypse, being soulless, stopping hunting, etc. 5) The fact that Lucifer came back so many times and he didn't get to kill him ONCE as a treat

Also this is more @ the fandom, but how much Sam get ignored when talking about parenting Jack! Sam, who nurtured him and showed him kindness from Day 1! Who taught him how to use his abilities! Who didn't become what Lucifer wanted him to be and only wanted the same for Jack! - Oh no, the writers forgot to give Jess a personality! Now it’s up to you. Tell me, what was Jess like: True crime fan, super competitive at board games, got into law to help the little man, bisexual

- And finally, just say something about him that makes you smile ♥ : That he believes no one is truly beyond saving! That you can always choose to be a better person! That you decide who you are, no one else! Also, the fact that I got my first Bisexual Haircut as an excuse to cosplay him (thank u sam for being part of my queer journey)

Tagging @leydhawk @justsayingit @fangurl and any other Sam fans who follow me!