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@5ubjugate.

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It could (not) have been a text 📱🌹 [His favorite melody 💓]

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›       TENSION   LINER   PROMPTS     

"I   dare   you   to   try."

"Do   you   always   get   close?"

"You’re   pushing   my   limits."

"Stop   looking   at   me   like   that."

"I’m   losing   control   here."

"You   have   no   idea,   do   you?"

"I   can’t   resist   you   anymore."

"Stay   back,   or   don’t."

"I   know   what   you   want."

"This   is   getting   dangerous   now."

"You’re   too   tempting   for   me."

"I   shouldn’t   want   this,   but…"

"I   don’t   play   fair,   remember?"

"Careful,   you’re   testing   me."

"You’re   just   making   it   worse."

"You’re   too   close   for   comfort."

"Do   you   always   push   buttons?"

"Stop   before   I   kiss   you."

"You’re   making   it   too   hard."

"I   can’t   stop   thinking   about   you."

"I   want   you   too   much."

"You   know   exactly   what   you’re   doing."

"I’m   not   playing   games   here."

"You’ve   crossed   the   line   now."

"Keep   pushing,   and   you’ll   regret   it."

"This   is   dangerous,   isn’t   it?"

"I’m   trying   not   to   care."

"Don’t   make   me   regret   this."

"You’re   playing   with   fire."

"You   don’t   know   what’s   coming."

"I   shouldn’t   be   this   close."

"We’re   getting   dangerously   close   now."

"I   can   feel   the   heat."

"Don’t   test   me   right   now."

"I   want   you   too   badly."

"Don’t   make   me   chase   you."

"You’re   distracting   me,   you   know."

"I   won’t   fall   for   this."

"I   want   you,   but…"

"What   do   you   want   from   me?"

"I’ll   never   give   in."

"I’m   trying   not   to   care."

"You’re   playing   with   my   patience."

"Don’t   make   this   harder,   please."

"I   can’t   stop   this   feeling."

"I’m   already   in   too   deep."

"You   won’t   walk   away   unscathed."

"You’re   walking   a   fine   line."

"I’m   trying   to   stay   calm."

"What   are   you   doing   to   me?"

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PROMPTS FOR THE ROMANCE OF BANTER, PLAYFUL SARCASM, AND USING JOKES TO HIDE HOW YOU REALLY FEEL ABOUT THEM *  assorted dialogue, some of which have some implied sarcasm built in (so just feel free to specify with "/s" at the end of each line), adjust as necessary

admit it. you're in love with me.

if only i had someone to go out with...

a date would be really nice right about now.

i might reconsider if you bring me flowers.

were you being serious back there?

did you just try to impress me?

was that another joke, or were you telling the truth?

we agreed that if no one asked us, we'd go together.

keep telling yourself that!

here it comes! the big love confession i've been waiting for!

you've been in love with me since the day we met.

you visited me in my dreams last night.

i know you're in love with me. you just won't say it outloud.

we can't hide this forever.

don't make me beg.

if you weren't so cute, you'd be annoying.

you're not very good at hiding how you feel.

you've been staring at me for a long time now.

is that what you really think of me?

you have feelings for me. admit it.

so what if i've been lying this whole time? for good reason!

you don't make this whole love thing any easier.

you make life difficult.

you're a piece of work.

is that how you really feel?

you're lucky you're so cute.

you're not really going out with them, are you?

i thought we... nevermind.

consider me impressed.

am i annoying you right now?

you didn't like that comment, huh.

i was only kidding!

you wish we were kissing right now.

oh, you'd just love to hear me beg.

i love our little back and forth.

sooner or later we'll have to come clean about how we feel.

i'm not good at hiding my emotions.

when were you going to tell me you were in love with me?

i actually hate your guts.

keep talking like that and you'll see how i really feel.

can your head get any bigger?

was that a joke?

were you just playing with me?

you didn't actually mean that, right?

hang on. you didn't just say that.

that was a joke, right?

this is just how we are when we're together.

i tease you, you tease me.

you and i have always been like this.

if i'm not annoying you, what's the point?

i'm allergic to tickling.

they said we'd make a cute couple. can you believe that?

are you always this annoying?

if i kiss you, will you turn into a prince? yes, i'm implying you're a frog.

you're lucky i love you so much.

you take that back!

that was uncalled for!

this means war!

this calls for a duel!

i'm challenging you to an arm wrestle.

last one there is a rotten egg!

i'm not racing you!

stop looking at me like that.

you stare at me a lot.

i know, i know. i'm irresistable.

something on my face?

a little bird told me you're in love with me.

prove me wrong.

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@5ubjugate asked, ❛ am i worth so little to you? ❜ - shoko (because i'm evil)

I  ALONE  AM  THE  HONORED  ONE.  it  was  a  revelation  made  while  levitating  to  an  empyrean  height.  the  sun’s  glorious  radiance  enveloped  him  in  a  glow  of  gold.  the  most  natural  spotlight  shined  brightest  and  it  certainly,  fittingly  did  on  him  that  fateful  day.  spectacles  possessed  an  intrinsic  splendor,  meant  for  grand  presentation  to  convey  it  was  a  display  like  no  other.  how  satoru  gojo  survived  and evolved from certain  death  was a spectacle indeed.  neither  stubbornness  nor  luck  were  factors  in  his  awakening.  It  was  simply  his  destiny. 

he  had  discovered  his  divinity  once  his  mortality  had  been  made  abundantly  clear.  he  thwarted  it  as  if  it  wasn’t  meant  for  him.  but  even  so,  his  feet  had  to  descend  to  the  ground,  as  he  still  resided  in  a  mortal  world.  a  world  that  needed  him  to  ensure  its  preservation.  quite  the  burden,  but  it  suited  him.  unfortunately,  the  sheer  demand  of  it  had  separated  him  from  everyone  else.  therefore,  his  relationships  had suffered.  he  once  had  two  close  friends.  one  had grown  resentful  of  him  and  lost  faith  in  the  noble  cause  of  protecting  the  helpless.  he  embarked  on  an  opposing  path  that  severed  all  ties.  as  for  the  other,  she  was  still  a  part  of  his  life,  but  from  afar.  just  like  everybody  else.

nowadays,  the  sole  thing  that  seemed  to  be  keeping  them  in  contact  at  all  were  work-related  matters.  if  it  weren’t  for  jujutsu  society,  they  likely would  have  become  complete strangers.  it  was  thanks  to  it  that  some  semblance  of  a  connection  had  been  upheld.  how  ironic,  this  realm  that  unavoidably  entailed  death,  whether  to  their  ilk  or foes,  was  continuously breathing a bit of life  into  their  relationship.  even  if  they  could  only  say  they  were  co-workers,  it  was  reason  enough  for  them  to  convene  every  now  and  then. 

perhaps,  tension  was  a  given  since  topics  regarding  curses  and  transfigured  humans  and  fallen  allies  were  disturbing,  even  if  accustomed  to.  but  their  conversations  felt  doubly  tense  from  the  weight  of  unsaid  things.  they  were  no  longer  close.  drifting  apart  from  people  was  an  unfortunate  but  natural  part  of  growing  older.  personalities  change,  priorities  shift,  responsibilities  accumulate⸺sure,  these  could  all  explain  away  the  current  distance  between  them.  however,  they  were  once  a  trio  that  seemed  inseparable.  nothing  could  last  forever  was  such  a  brutal  lesson  to  learn  while  so  young.  in  shoko’s  presence,  he  sometimes  felt  their  mutual  friend’s  absence.  the  poignancy  became  easier  to suppress  with  the  passing  of  years.  but  it  didn’t  matter anyway.  feelings,  no  matter  how  profound,  could  do  nothing  to  reverse  the  cold,  harsh  reality  that  suguru  was  gone.

it  was  trite  but  true  that  the  present  was  within  one’s  control.  and  while  history  couldn’t  be  rewritten,  there  could be  something  to  salvage  in  the  wreckage  of  his  past.  he  still  had  a  link  to  shoko.  it  might  not  be  as  strong  as  it  used  to  be,  but  it  could  be  a  start  if  he  wished  to  renew  their  friendship.  though,  he  was hesitant.  he  liked the  idea,  obviously.  the  process  they’d  have  to  undergo  wasn’t  so  appealing.  the  difficult  conversations  that  they’d  been  avoiding  were  going  to  happen.  before,  they  had  the  excuse  that  it  was  never  a  good  time  to  talk  on  a  personal  level; they  were  adjusting  themselves  to  the  newfound  responsibilities  in  their  lives. 

while  they  were  well  adjusted  now,  he  was  oddly  comfortable  with what had become of them,  even  though  it  was  unideal.  speculating  about  her  thoughts,  feelings  and  opinions  was  a  familiar  kind  of  torture.  he  believed  she  resented  him  too,  but  he  had  yet  to  receive  confirmation.  if  he  didn’t  ask,  she might never  say,  and  he  could  feel  somewhat okay knowing  it  wasn’t  certain.

but  lo  and  behold,  he  didn’t  have  to  ask.

he  had  turned  his  back  to  make  his  exit  from  the  morgue.  just  a  single  step  had  been  taken  towards  the  door  before  she  froze  him  with  abrupt  words.  a  jarring  question. 

he  had  an  answer.  of  course  he  did.  despite  everything,  she  was  still  precious  to  him.  their  time  as  close  friends  had ended,  but  the  impact  shall  last  forever.  although  he  was  the  strongest,  his  heart  was  as  delicate  as  any,  and  she  just  caused  it  to  jump.  every  successive  beat  came  fast  and  felt  like  a  thud.  his  chest  cavity  could  rupture.

his  jaw  dropped.  the  only  sound  he  could  produce  was  him  panting.  he’d  been  hollowed  out,  allowing  chills  to  permeate him freely.  slack  posture  stiffened  into  rigidity,  attempting  to  enclose  himself  and  regain  warmth. keep it together.

he continued  to  look  forward in lieu of look at her.  she  had  already  rattled  him  considerably  with  one  solemn  utterance,  he  didn’t  want  to  see  whether  it  had  accompanied  a  facial  expression  of  the  same  nature.  he  doubted  he  could  endure  it,  especially  since  it  was  rare  for  her  features  to  move  in  any  discernible  way.

❛  ...what?  ❜  he  offered  an  airy  utterance  in  return,  only  managing  to  be  audible  due to  the  vacancy  of  the  space.  it  was  all  he  could  give  in  the  throes  of  shock.  really, he  needed  repetition  to  help  him  fathom  that  she  had  just  addressed  him  personally,  quite  possibly  heralding  a much overdue  difficult  conversation.

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@5ubjugate asked, ❛ are you trying to get us in trouble? ❜ - shoko !

OF  COURSE  SATORU  GOJO  had  the  power  to  make  two  vastly  different  worlds  collide  beautifully.  the  dichotomy  ought  to  cause  friction,  or  worse,  cataclysm  when  opposing  forces  were  brought  together.  such  a  result  would  indeed  happen  if  it  was  anyone  else’s  doing  but  his.  he was  going  to  foster  harmony.  they  would  mingle  and  meld  as  if  they  belonged  together.  two  parts  that  had  been  astray  all  along  would  finally  become  whole.

general  consensus  said  that  business  and  pleasure  were  best  kept  separate.  a  sentiment  that  the  vast  majority  believed  to  be  true.  it  was  a  given,  a  rule  that  needn’t  be  explained  when  one  signed  up  for  a  profession.  matters  unrelated  to  work  would  just  be  distracting  if  focused  on  and  come  to  the  detriment  of  the  single-mindedness  required  to  perform  diligently.  physical  presence,  mental  chaos,  if  not  absence:  the  composition  of  a liability.

alas!  normies  and  the  restrictions  they  must  impose  on  themselves  to  maintain  order  and  structure  in  their  society.  whereas,  the  likes  of  him  could  forgo  such  strictness.  balance  was  natural  to  uphold  for  those  on  an  unearthly  plane so  high  that  everything  below  seemed  trivial.  satoru  gojo,  notorious  for  his  flippant  attitude  whilst  having  'serious'  responsibilities⸺responsibilities  that  concerned  the  fate  of  a  species, as well as  the  planet  it  inhabited.  he  ought  to  feel  so  much  pressure,  but  he,  in  fact,  did  not.  pressure  could  only  be  felt  by  weaklings.  they  weren’t  made  to  handle  anything  remotely beyond  their  severely  limited  capabilities.  but when it comes to the  strongest,  with  his  limitless  capabilities,  every  undertaking  was  but  a  cinch. 

yet,  this  exceptional  entity  wasn’t  exempt  from  emotion.  it pulled  him  here,  to  her.  he  didn’t  just  meddle  in  her  affairs,  he  took  her  away  from  them  and  into  his  arms.  it  would’ve  been  just  a  nice,  tender  embrace⸺if  it  hadn’t  been  for  the  succession  of  firm  kisses  that  he  planted  on  her  neck,  starting  from  right  underneath  her  jaw  to  right  above  her  collarbone.  he  wanted  to  feel  her  pulse  quicken  under  his  lips.  hear  a  sharp  intake  of  breath.  feel  a  tremor.  something, anything  to  hint  at  her  resolve  wavering. 

she  wouldn’t  make  it  easy  for  him,  though.  she  never  did.  with  shoko,  he  had  to  exert  himself.  she  wasn’t  pliable;  a  doctor  had  to  have  steady  hands  to  be  clean,  surgical  and  precise  when  conducting  procedures.  and  steadiness  was  achieved  through  composure.  it  was  imperative  that  emotion  couldn’t  rush  her  easily  and  be  kept  controllable,  or  even  non-existent,  when  routinely  dealing  with  horrid  realities,  such  as  death  and  its  indiscriminate  nature.  these  traits  of  hers,  while  understandable,  were  frustrating;  they  posed  an  obdurate  obstacle  that  necessitated  honest  effort  to  overcome.  but  it  challenged  him,  so  it  was… humbling.  she  had  prescribed  him  humility  and  never  skipped  his  daily  dose.  as  much  as  he  complained,  it  was  actually good  for  him.  he  wouldn’t  dare  dispute  this  particular  doctor  and  her  orders. 

she  sounded  unimpressed,  like  she  thought  he  was  merely  at  it  again  with  his  penchant  for  mischief,  this  time  trying  to  coax  her  into  a kind of indulgence that was inappropriate within  the  setting  of  her  office.  her  thinking  would  be  correct  to  an  extent;  he  needed  to  satisfy  that  part  of  him.  however,  he  needed  her  most  of  all. 

his  lips  hovering  over  her  skin,  he  chuckled.  a  helpless,  knowing  chuckle,  his  breath  probably  tickling.  then,  he  lifted  his  head  and  brought  his  face  before  hers,  the  point  of  their  noses  meeting.  his  blindfold  sat  above  his  eyes,  aware  of  how  revealing  a  gaze  can  be,  especially  in  one  as  bright  as  his.  he  was  looking  at  her  with  unbridled  lust.  he  saw  an  opportunity  to  loosen  her  up  and  mellow  her  out,  exactly  as  a  break  was  meant  to  do. 

with  a  cocksure  grin,  he  reminded  her  that  consequences  couldn’t  follow  actions  of  the  clandestine  variety.  ❛  not  quite.  i  don’t  plan  to  get  caught.  ❜  to  entice  her  further,  he  stole  a  peck  from  her  lips.  ❛  do  you?  ❜

frankly,  he  doubted  shoko  had  genuine  qualms  about  taking  this  risk.  she  just  liked  to  see  him  desperate,  and  lucky  for  her,  he  liked  to  accommodate  her.  he  didn’t  even  have  to  pretend;  she  knew  how  to  put  him  at  her  mercy.

in  yet  another  seductive  tactic,  he  began  to  utilize  the  sensuality  of  whispering.  ❛  i’ll  keep  it  short  and  sweet.  you’ll  be  back  to  your  precious  paperwork  in  no  time,  i  promise.  ❜  after  all,  he  would  hate  to  soil  her  conscientious  image. 

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 ❛    ⠀I    KNOW    I    MUST    BE    IMPOSSIBLY    WRETCHED.    GOD    MADE    ME    SOMETHING    SO    TERRIBLE,    SO    UNFORGIVABLY    DAMNED     ー     FROM    BIRTH,    I    WAS    MEANT    TO    BE    DESPISED   .⠀.⠀.    AND    I    CAN    NEVER    BE    ANYTHING    MORE    THAN    THE    POISON    I    WAS    BORN    WITH    FLOODING    MY    VEINS.    ⠀❜

♱    𝐆𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 . . .  is  an  independent  &  selective  depiction  of  original  character  SAYURI  TAMASHIRO,  based  off  sui  ishida's  TOKYO  GHOUL.  devoured  by  𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩,  27,  she/her  (CET)  since  2020.  dead  dove  do  not  eat  !  current  verses:  JUJUTSU  KAISEN,  KIMETSU  NO  YAIBA,  DEAD  BY  DAYLIGHT. 

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NOT  QUITE  A  LOVE  CONFESSION,  though  one  of  equal  significance,  for  the  extent  of  satoru  gojo’s  profound,  emotional  impact  was  revealed.  she  just  confirmed  that  he  pushed  her  to  the  brink.  his  presence  needn’t  be  physical  to  be  felt.  even  when  he  couldn’t  be  seen,  he  could  be  visualized  with  ease.  even  when  his  skin  wasn’t  touching  hers,  the  recollection  of  any  previous  friction  evoked  a  prickling  sensation  in  the  affected  area.  even  when  his  voice  couldn’t  be  heard,  it  had  been  heard  often  enough  to  be  retained,  and  thus,  she  could  accurately  think  of  things  he’d  say  in  any  given  situation. 

while  it  might  be  true  that  satoru  gojo  had  the  natural  ability  to  leave  lasting  impressions  with  his  many  distinctions,  even  someone  nondescript  could  become  preeminent  in  the  mind  if  they  had an emotional impact. 

he  knew  these  were  things  that  tormented  her  because  it  was  his  reality  too.  he  sympathized  with  her.  everything  about  her  consumed  him.  sayuri  burrowed  a  home  inside  that  made  her  feel  like  she  was  always  there.  she  was  inescapable.  yet,  whereas  satoru  gojo was  willing  to  fall  over  the  edge  and  give  in to  the  insanity,  she  wanted  to  turn  away.  so,  here  he  was,  trying  to  bring  her  down  with  him.

her  confession  remained  telling  in  spite  of  its  roundabout  and  resentful  phrasing.  but  even  so,  it  failed  to  satisfy.  sure,  at  least  she  wasn't in  denial,  and  that  sufficed  to  keep  his  grip  firm  on  a  wisp  of  hope.  still,  she  said  nothing  new  or  unknown.  she  had  yet  to  express  a  desire  to  surrender  to  her  feelings.  emphasis  on  ‘yet’⸺refusing  to  undergo  another  stretch  of  agonizing  silence  and  distance,  he  planned  on  mounting  the  pressure  in  this  encounter  until  she’d  yield.

after  so  long  (or  what  felt  like  it),  he  was  finally  sharing  a  sliver  of  intimacy  with  her  in  the  form  of  reciprocal  gazes.  those  eyes  of  hers  weren’t  exactly  soft  or  tender,  but  they  were  locked  on  his⸺that  was  real,  and  it  elicited  the  real  reaction  of  a  shudder  as  a  chill  swept  the  length  of  his  spine.  it  ought  to  disturb  his  ego,  being  at  another’s  mercy  like  this  as  the  strongest.  but  he  honestly  liked  that  she  had  such  power  over  him,  an  unprecedented  circumstance  had  its  own  special  kind  of  thrill.  every  emotion  was  potent  in  its  own  right.  however,  love  stood  head  and  shoulders  above  the  rest  with  its  paradoxes,  how  it  could  trigger  an  intense  adrenaline  response  just  as  easily  as  it  could  inspire  a  sense  of  serenity.  this  confrontation  was  brimming  with  tension,  and  oddly,  he  was  comfortable.  she  was  glaring  at  him  and  he  couldn’t  look  away.  indignation  stiffened  every  muscle  in  her  body  and  he  still  regarded  her  as  the  most  beautiful,  if  intimidating,  sight  to  behold. 

to  dare  was  a  conscious  choice,  and  it  certainly  seemed  daring  of  him  to  advance  when her  aura  was  uninviting.  though,  his  legs  actually  moved  on  their  own.  his  consciousness  had  no  say  in  the  act.  it  was  pure  instinct  or  impulse.  he  was  following  his  heart.  she  was  here⸺not  as  a  figment  of  his  imagination  or  a  sensory  memory⸺in  the  flesh.  and  the  longer  he  feasted  his  eyes  on  her,  the  more  ravenous  his  longing  became,  beckoning  him  onward  to  sate  it  with  proximity  and  physicality.

ultimately,  he  took  just a  few  steps closer.  his  consciousness  returned  and  forestalled  him.  he  had  a  proverbial  wall  to  crumble  first.

❛  aww.  sounds  like  you're  too  far  gone,  babe.  why  fight  it?  ❜ he  continued  verbally  prodding,  believing  that  relentlessness  will  shake  her  rigid  stance  shortly.  of  course,  words  alone  wouldn't be sufficient,  hence a  smirk  blatantly  claimed  his  mouth  and  his  tone  exaggeratedly  feigned  pity.  expressions  of  flippancy  and  smug  confidence  intending  to  condescend.  furthermore,  he  narrowed  his  baby  blues  to  a  slit,  as  if  squinting  would  help  him  read  her  better  and  gain  an  understanding  of  her  foolishly,  hopelessly  resistant  behavior.

Defiance was sparked, both by his pronouncements and his demeanor — the doubtful hush to Satoru’s words were justified, undoubtedly so, however, his accuracy was what further fueled Sayuri’s desire to deflect. He wasn’t wrong, and that was precisely the problem — he never was, especially when it came to her. It made her blood boil. It was evident in her taut jaw, her rigid posture, the barely contained tremor in her hands that he had struck a nerve, and a raw, exposed one at that. Agitated by this unpleasant turn her evening had taken after being so meticulously planned, she found herself painfully incapable of masking her emotions, of not displaying herself like an open book to him.  

However, Sayuri wouldn’t be herself if she didn’t cling to her own delusions and excuses with a tenacity that bordered on the obsessive. No matter how much she contradicted herself, one thing remained absolute: her unwillingness to admit anything of substance out loud. Perhaps it was a trauma-bound response, a defensive mechanism she hadn't the inclination to examine, but the mere thought of open confessions constricted her throat. Her mouth went dry and her mind blank as she fathomed the words for a moment, an image of absurdity flashing through her mind that seemed comical, at best. Herself, uttering words of truth and affections she had never dared to whisper before — confessions spilling from her lips with an ease that, she was certain, could never exist in reality. Each syllable imbued with a tenderness that mirrored her deepest, most hidden thoughts; ‘your presence brightens my days, your very being makes me feel alive’.

It had been a crushing moment filled with irony and incredulity, back when she had first realized that it wasn’t even about grand gestures or flowery declarations, the dramatic displays she had always associated with the idea of love. Despite herself, the boastful, demanding persona she radiated wherever she went, she had caught herself dwelling in even the quiet, consistent hum of him, drinking in his presence even in moments of faintness and distance. Oh, she hated how attuned she had become to his presence — how the weight of the room changed when he walked in, how she breathed a little easier when he was near, how even silence between them felt full. 

The truth was the part she could never say: that he made the emptiness bearable. That he made her feel real. Like she was more than just sharp edges and stolen moments — like she could be someone softer, someone warm, someone whole again. 

To admit it would make it real, palpable — a shedding of the protective cloak of her isolation and aloofness, an undressing of a kind she had never desired, an invitation to a future that loomed in front of her shrouded in uncertainty. It would be a weakness revealed, shared, admitted — her fear didn’t even linger on the concern of unrequited feelings, no; her dread lay in the unknown trajectory of their relationship, the unpredictable ways her life would irrevocably change. She had long ago convinced herself that she liked it this way, her life, independent and untouched by anyone and anything — a long, dreary process of telling herself that what she had once feared was, in fact, a blessing in disguise. How easy, how pleasurable to go about each day without a care for anything. To wake up in the morning to nothingness and find the exact same thing in the evenings, a constant in this world that was ever so tumultuous. She could do whatever she wanted — the epitome of the freedom she had yearned for for so long, or so she told herself. What it really was, what clung to her like a shadow, was profound loneliness. 

Yet — the words that ultimately breached the dam and escaped her lips were a stark contrast to the vulnerable truths her mind had conjured. ❛ Or maybe I’m just trying to run and hide from you. But it seems like you’re a bad habit I just can’t seem to shake off, can I? ❜ Calm and firm, her words masked all that she didn’t say. It was infinitely easier, safer, to hide behing this veil of indifference, after all. And, a sliver of truth clung to her words, too: she was incapable of freeing herself from him. However, the blame was not solely, or even primarily, to be put on his persistence, as much as she liked to make both him and herself believe otherwise. It was the iron grip of her own feelings. 

❛ You want to hear how I feel about you? Fine. I feel irritated. Annoyed. Agitated. Constantly. Yeah, sometimes I even feel like I’m two seconds from losing my mind. ❜ Her eyes met his, unwavering and defiant, challenging him to call her bluff — or to concentrate on the sliver of truth, the veil of confession, that clung to her words. ❛ So congratulations, Satoru. You drive me crazy. ❜

[thstrongest]

hi you are my favorite notification my favorite to see on the dash my favorite reason to keep going & writing my favorite source of joy & just in general my favorite bye

light of my life, you're the greatest of all time

[thstrongest]

@foolisheart, continued.

AN  EVOCATIVE  SOUND,  as  soothing  as  it  was  scary.  a  heartbeat  was  the  ultimate  sign  of  life. with  his  ear  pressed  to  her  chest,  not  only  did  he  hear  said  sound,  but  also  feel  each  undulation  occur  with  her  every  breath,  his  head  moving  along  with  the  gentle  rhythm. 

failure  led to  instantaneous  shutdown  of  the  entire  body.  alas,  its  gravity  gave  it  a  sense  of  fragility.  his  eyes  had  been  shut  tight  with  apprehensive  focus,  worrying about  the  possibility,  however  slim,  of  her  pulse  growing  faint.  if  that  were  to  happen,  at  least  he’d  catch  it  immediately  and  respond  accordingly,  with  haste⸺do  everything  in  his  power  to  prevent  her  from  leaving  him.  it  was  like  he  was  both  enjoying  and  dreading  the  embrace,  on  alert  for  the slightest  hint  of  tragedy  whilst  immersed  in  the  shared  warmth.

the  honored  one.  he  almost  proved  mortal  once.  thoroughly  stabbed,  sliced  and  torn  apart,  satoru  gojo  was  on  the  brink  of  becoming  a  corpse,  a  victim  of  murder  with  the  deep  wounds  to  show  that  the  culprit  wanted  to  ensure  his  demise.  he  did  ascend  to  the  heavens  after,  but  not  in  death.  in  strength.  he  emerged  from  rubble  renewed  with  no  wounds  to  see.  the  bloodstains  on  his  clothes  were  remnants  of  them.  remnants  of  his  old  self.

he  seemed  to  have  gotten off  lightly compared to the  other  parties  who  were  involved  in  that  fateful  mission.  his  best  friend  survived  but  went  astray,  embarking  on  a  path  that  would  lead  to  his  eventual  undoing.  the  star plasma vessel  around whom  it  revolved  was  killed,  rendering  it  a  failure.  he  went on  to  bear  the  weight  of  not  only  loss  but  responsibility too. no  matter  the  task,  burden  or  situation,  nothing  could  ever  be  too  much  for  the strongest.

yet,  he’d  find  that  sullen  moods  would  befall  him  out  of  nowhere.  utahime  was  the  one  he’d  turn  to  and  seek  answers  from.  he  didn’t  verbalize  his  feelings  particularly  well,  though.  after  all,  he  didn’t  understand  them.  how  could  someone  like  him,  who  had  everything  and  could  handle  anything,  possibly  be  sad?  a  mystery,  indeed. 

he  trusted  her  with  his  vulnerability  because  she  had  always  spoken  to  him  freely,  as  if  his  status  was  of  no  consequence  and  it  was  merely  an  aspect  of  him  instead  of  his  entire  identity.  her  perspective  supposedly  enabled the utmost honesty  when  addressing  him.  what  she  saw  behind  the  grandiosity,  he  didn’t  know,  he  doubted  there  was  anything  there,  but  he  believed  her  judgment  was  sound.

as  vulnerable  as  he  felt  right  now,  his  protective  instincts  remained  responsive.  that  precious  heartbeat  stirred  them  and  so  they  came  into  expression.  she  accepted  his  desire  to  protect  her  this  time,  once  and  for  all,  but  there  was  a  condition,  and  that  she  forced  eye  contact  before  telling  it  meant  she  wanted  him  to  see  her  conviction,  that  she  meant  every  word  she  said.  and  he  did. 

azures  widened,  bewildered  by  the  implication  that  he  could  be  protected  as well.  he  deemed  it  an  impossibility.  being  needed  to  the  sheer  extent  that  he  was  stole his autonomy.  but  still,  this  came  from  utahime,  and  he  had  always  known  her  to  be  sincere.  so,  even  though  it  was  something  that  needed  time  to  register, he  let  his  trust  for  her  take  control.

❛  okay,  ❜  he  agreed  with  a  shaky  breath  and  nodded. 

he  then paused,  debating  if  he  should  ask  something  that  had  been  gnawing  at  him  persistently.  ultimately,  he  decided  yes;  now  felt  right.  ❛  will  you… talk  to  me  about  anything?  ❜  he  was  curious  whether  he  had  earned  her  trust  on  an  intimate  level yet.  if  only  he  had  known  how  she  was  feeling  then,  he  could  have  staved  off  her  urge  to  prove  herself  so  recklessly.  her  scar  was  one  of  his  biggest  regrets.  it  reminded  him  he  could  have  lost  her  that  day.

[thstrongest]

❛  you  are  my  north  star;  I'd  follow  you  anywhere  ❜     /     @thstrongest

[thstrongest]

NOTHING  COULD  ESCAPE  the  vision  of  satoru  gojo.  a  vivid  and  divine  gaze,  its  azure  brilliance  reflected  the  unfathomable  power  therein⸺it  could  pierce  through  anything  it  espied  and  extended  far  beyond  the  surface.  sayuri  was  not  a  woman  of  open  expression. that  heart  of  hers  did  not  rest  on  her  sleeve  but  was  instead  confined  and  fortified.  needlessly,  shackles,  chains  and  locks  of  cold  steel  further  secured  an  already  densely  armored  and  impenetrable  door. 

one  might  assume  that  such  heavy  defenses  would  require  brute  force  to  take  down⸺and  he  had  gone  that  route already.  they  exchanged  blows,  both  verbal  and  violent,  in  just  about  every  encounter.  inevitably,  he  grew  familiar  with  her  over  the  course  of  each  one,  though  that  didn’t  equate  to  or  result  in  personal  closeness.  therefore,  his  natural  assumption  was  that  other  means  had  to  be  employed  in  order  for  him  to  reach  her.

being  uninitiated  in  tenderness  and  intimacy  himself,  it  was  unbecoming  of  him.  he,  too,  was  out  of  his  depth  here,  his  signature  brash  confidence  lacking.  sure,  he  showed  bravery  by  reaching  out,  making  gentle  contact,  but  he  never  needed  bravery  because  nothing  ever  seemed  daunting  or  insurmountable  to  him.  until  now.  it  was  unprecedented  that  he  acted  while  unsure  of  himself.  perhaps  even  scared.  moreover,  he  took  a  risk  when  he  was  used  to  foregone  conclusions.  emotional  matters  were  inherently  finicky.  volatile.  seldom  as  straightforward  as  flaunting  his  physical  gifts  and  prowess.

he  keenly  observed  a  suspenseful  sequence  unfold.  the  anticipation  was  stifling,  restricting  his  instinctive  inclination  to  breathe.  supposedly  to  be  reinstated  once  he  found  out  how  she’d  ultimately  respond.  she  had  him  hopeful  at  first.  she  seemed  trepidatious  to  be  introduced  to  something  new,  only  to  seem  welcoming  upon  sensing  he  meant  no  harm.  but  alas,  her  final  response  was  aversion.  she  shut  him  down  and  out  just  as  he  started  to  think  he  was  melting  the  stronghold  and  gaining  access  to  the  ultimate  prize.  she  left  him  out  in  the  cold  despite  his  endeavors  to  endear  her  with  the  idea  of  them  coming  together  for  much  needed  warmth  and  shelter  in  each  other.

that  was  the  danger  in  vulnerability.  the  rejection  of  it  seared,  especially  for  those  who  hardly  ever  showed  it.  satoru  gojo  was  truly feeling  the  agony.  her  hand  wrapping  around  his  turned  out  to  be  a  sample  of  the  affection  he  might  never  share  with  her.  she  had  done  so  to  pull  it  from  her  cheek,  and  it  reacted  with  something  akin  to  a  burning  sensation.  obviously,  she  left  a  lot  to  be  desired,  exacerbated  his  longing.  it’d  make  sense  to  proceed  with disentangling  from  her and the  conundrum  of  their  relationship  to  preserve  himself.  yet,  love  made  fools  of  everyone,  including  the  strongest.  so,  while  he  felt  defeated  and  deflated,  he  remained  undeterred.  he  didn’t  want  to  be  alone  again,  even  if  he  had  to  settle  for  just the  illusion  or  idea  of  her. 

as  bruised  and  battered  it  was,  his  ego  still  stubbornly  prevailed,  continuing  to  expose  itself  in  the  ghost  of  a  smirk  he  upheld.  his  sullen,  muted  voice  didn’t  quite  complement  the  bold  words  leaving  him,  but  it  wasn’t  like  he  knew  how  else  to  speak,  anyway.  utterance  required  breath,  which  struggled  to  be  retained  inside  a  pained  chest  heaving  a  broken  heart. thus,  his  volume  and  lilt  suffered.  ❛  don't  be  stupid.  i  love  making  life  difficult  for  you.  i  thought  i  made  that  clear  already.  ❜     nevertheless,  he  was  able  to  convey  that  if  she’ll  stay  aloof,  he’ll  stay  stuck  to  her.  a  battle  between obdurate personalities. 

Where the promise of violence had lingered mere moments ago, of blood spilled and life snuffed, now appeared tenderness — the sudden warmth on her cheek so unfamiliar that her body recoiled instinctively, threatening to flinch away. The act left her momentarily robbed of speech, her breath caught in her throat like a startled bird. Memories, fragmented and scattered, flashed before her inner eye — when was the last time she had let someone, anyone, touch her like that? The last time she had felt the genuine warmth of another’s skin against her own, real and palpable, not a ghost of something long gone, a phantom limb of a connection severed by fate long ago, something she was unable to let go of. Remnants that haunted her waking hours, that kept her awake at night, invaded her nightmares and taunted her with a closeness she had declared impossible. She couldn’t remember — or, possibly, didn’t want to remember. To quantify the years, to assign a concrete number to the absence, would only solidify the reality, deepen the bitter taste that clung to the back of her throat, omnipresent wherever she went and whatever she did. The years had blurred into each other, and somewhere along the line, the details, the precise moment of sundering, had ceased to matter. Or so she told herself.

Her eyelids, heavy with suppressed emotion, fluttered. Caught off guard by this sudden invasion of gentleness, the mask slipped — just for a fleeting moment, barely perceptible, but it did, and what it revealed was something softer, something younger, something not yet entirely tainted and corrupted by the bitterness the world had so diligently instilled. Pitiable, almost — the way that fleeting glimpse into her innermost self was quickly reburied beneath that mask of snarling indifference, how she denied herself the urge to lean into Satoru’s touch, refused to bask in the unfamiliar endearment with which he had addressed her. Just the slightest tilt of her head towards the warmth of his palm betrayed those desires — then, with a force of will that bordered on violence, she snapped herself back to reality.  

Suddenly, his hand felt too warm, as if her subconscious was willing her to remember that she was playing with fire. She should slap it away. She should say something biting, something cruel, sentences designed to cut him deep before he could cut her first. Yet, she hesitated. Just a moment longer... the realization of her own internal struggle fueled her growing irritation. 

Finally, her lips manage to curl into a sneer. ❛ You don’t get to touch me like that. ❜ The words felt like nails digging into her own skin. She didn’t mean them. Not really. But she said them anyway, because any lie, any cruelty, was preferable to admitting the yearning that clawed at her insides. A moment passed, a silent pause while she willed her breath to obey her, her voice to remain steady. Then, she continued, each syllable heavy on her tongue as she pushed them out. ❛ ...And don’t call me that. ❜

With that, her hand rose, her fingers placing themselves atop of his hand — warmth, tenderness, now encapsulated by her, taunting her with every accelerated beat of her heart, with the rush of forbidden emotions coursing through her veins, something she was unwilling to name. She freed her cheek from his touch, practically yanked his hand away, yet her fingers lingered for a fleeting moment too long. A silent acknowledgment of the connection she so desperately tried to deny, of the vulnerability that clawed within her — a vulnerability now strong enough to coax words out of her throat, words that surprised even her with their rawness. ❛ You should’ve just done it. ❜

A moment passed, heavy, laden with unspoken meaning. Ironic, wasn’t it — for someone who clung so desperately to life, who had become a survivalist first and everything else second in a world that had deemed her existence an unpleasant circumstance to be eradicated, to admit to such a thing, to give off the impression that she didn’t fear death, no, but would possibly even welcome it.  

❛ It would’ve been easier. ❜ For whom? For her? For him? For everyone else, certainly, but it was no secret that Sayuri paid little mind to the interests of the masses. In fact, she didn’t know — she just knew that she wanted him to say something, anything back.

[thstrongest]

 ❛   you're  gonna  have  to  control  yourself,  babe.  wouldn't  want  you  to  get  a  stomachache  from  tasting  just  how  sweet  i  am.  ❜    

❛ Mmm... careful, darling, I might just take a bite. I bet you'd taste sweet. ❜

[thstrongest]

SATORU  GOJO  WAS  APPALLED  BY  THE  GALL!  the  seven  stages  of  grief  were  underway  after  the  tragic  loss  of  his  delicious  ice  cream,  and  she  was  not  paying  her  respects  in  the  slightest.  instead,  she  was  dancing  on  its  grave  and  reveling  in  his  dismay  as  her  mirth  rang  vexingly  in  his  ears.  her  attempts  at  showing  remorse  were  purposefully  pitiful.

the  last  thing  he  needed  to  do  was  seethe  in  sweltering  heat,  yet  he  had  every  reason  to⸺features  and  form  taut  with  tension⸺and  he  did  not  care  to  consider  that  by  doing  so,  he  was  giving  her  exactly  what  she  wanted:  him  a  wailing  victim  of  a  mischievous  whim.  he’d  fancy  himself  a  vindictive  victim,  rather.  for  him  to  be  calm,  rise  above  and  forgive would  evince  humility,  which  he  lacked.  to  have  his  behavior  reflected  back  on  him  was  enlightening,  but  not  in  the  way  that’d  have  him  recognize  and  rectify  the  error  of  his  ways.  he  only  realized  he  needed  to  outdo  himself.  if  shoko  was  keen  on  mimicking  his  antics,  he  shall  elevate  them  to  greater, inimitable heights

so,  no,  he  was  not  going  to  hold  a  white  flag  aloft  and  wave  it  to  declare  a  truce.  he  was  going  to  declare  war  in  his  act  of  retaliation.  he  had  already  begun  scheming.

he  stepped  back  from  the  mess,  the  resting  place  of  his  ice  cream,  suggesting  acceptance,  a  will  to  move  on  and  move  forward.  he  could  not  bring  it  back,  but  he  could  avenge  it.

shoko’s  comeuppance  will  come  in  due  time,  though  in  the  meantime,  he  decided  to  just  give  her  the  cold  shoulder.  colder  than  the ice  cream that he was enjoying before she emerged.  not  even  the  mention  of  suguru  would  get  him  to  indulge  her.

impudently  and  dismissively,  he  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  turned  his  head  to  the  side.  with  arms  crossed  tightly  to  further  convey  aloofness  and  a  pout  firmly  in  place,  he  had  effectively  assumed  the  bearing  of  a  petulant  child.

 ❛  i  dunno,  go  find out  yourself  and  be  a  pain  in  his  ass.  ❜     

lips part as open-mouthed laughter bursts forth , arm curling around torso and clutching at her side. a rarity to catch gojo without his invisible armor on ... that reaction was priceless. instead of take pity, or shower apologies as cream splats against heated cement and across pristine shoes, her laughter only amplifies.

then, he turns on her, demanding explanation for her fiendish actions. laughter struggles to subside, but eventually, shoko's shoulders rise and fall in a shrug, elbows bent at her sides and palms upturned. "just 'cause." must there be a reason for it besides the tantalizing opportunity to get one over gojo satoru? well, maybe her decision was influenced by vengeance ... for the many juvenile antics and pranks pulled on her.

arms fold against her chest now, pride shining, savoring this glimmer of a moment. there would be other chances. maybe not exactly like this one though, thus why she decides to savor and gloat even more.

"what? thought you'd need cooling down. if anything, i was being a good friend. sorry about your ice cream, though. i'm sure you have the funds to buy another." insincerity lines her tone as bronze gaze draws downwards, a faux sorrowful frown pulling down the edges of her lips.

relenting, she straightens her back, glancing around with her hand hovering over her eyes, blocking the bright midday sun. huh, looks like they all went their separate ways. "where do you think geto went? tea shop or bookstore?"

[thstrongest]

DISAPPOINTING  A  LOVED  ONE  ought  to  be  a  hurtful,  humbling  thing.  a  brutal  lesson  learned.  the  knowledge  that  someone  so  dear  was  let  down  by  the  actions  or  inaction  of  oneself  tended  to  twinge  the  chest,  the  place  where  the  heart  resides,  like  nothing  else.  even  he  wasn’t  immune.  it  would  seem  satoru  gojo  truly  had  the  right  to  a  carefree  attitude;  if  he  happened  to  elicit  another’s  anger  (a  frequent  and  deliberate  occurrence),  that  anger,  no  matter  how  intense,  justified  or  fierce  it  may  be,  couldn’t  touch  him  unless  it  belonged  to  a  figure  he  had  the  utmost  respect  for.  in  which  case,  it  would  emotionally,  and  he’d  even  allow  it  to  physically  if  they  wished  to  channel  their  wrath  through  violence.  forcibly  cram  his  wrongdoing  into  his  head  to  ensure  that  he  understood  unequivocally. 

but  thankfully,  the  plushie,  his  misguided  gift  to  her,  was  the  only  thing  she  was  making  a  victim  of  in  that  regard.  for  now.  her  grip  seemed  suffocating,  fingers  squeezing  the  air  out  of  it,  marring  and  mangling  it  beyond  recognition.  from  adorable  to  grotesque.  merely  a  distorted  shape  of  whatever  it  was  once  meant  to  resemble  in  fluffy  form.  the  horror  lodged  a  lump  in  his  throat,  which  he  gulped  down.  however,  it  did  little  to  abate  the  overall  tightness  therein.  in  another  manifestation  of  his  disquietude,  he  flinched  once  told  that  he  should know her,  the  word  ‘should’  naturally  sounding  the  most  emphatic  as  it  formed  the  basis  of  her  statement. 

how  funny,  special  grade  curses  were  always  a  cinch  for  the  strongest  sorcerer,  whereas  having  consideration  for  his  girlfriend’s  feelings,  the  finer  details  about  her,  made  him  look  flawed.  human.

needless  to  say,  he  failed  in  his  attempt  to  trivialize  his  mistake,  the  reason  for  her  displeasure,  why  her  patience  was  now  on  the  brink  of  extinction.  she  only  hardened  her  stance  in  response.  frankly,  he  could only  grasp  that  she  was  upset,  and that, to her, this  matter  warranted a  stern  warning  about  his  behavior.  to  him,  it  was  still  trivial  considering  a  shopping  spree  could  easily  make  her  happy  and  remind  her  that  he  was  a  keeper  indeed.  nonetheless,  he  allowed  her  to  freely  express  herself  whilst  standing  at  attention.  his  intrinsic  flippancy entailed a slack and relaxed posture,  but  this  time  he  straightened  his  back  and  squared  his  shoulders.  although  he  didn’t  ‘get’  her  feelings,  they  were  important  to  him  regardless,  and  he  was  making  an  effort  to  show  that  by  listening  and  refusing  to  argue. 

the  appropriate  thing  to  offer  would  perhaps  be  an  apology,  coupled  with  a  promise  to  do  better  next  time.  yet,  he  extended  no  such  offer and made no such promise.  maybe  it  was  self-awareness,  knowing  that  it  was  hopeless  for  a  man  of  his  status  to  try to become  meticulous,  even  for  his  sweet  sayuri,  as  much  as  he  loved  her.  or  maybe  it  was  because  it  just  didn’t  occur  to  him;  a  man  of  his  status  simply  wasn't  used  to  admitting  fault  or  failure,  or  recognizing  where  there  was  room  for  improvement. 

he  spread  his  arms  to  show  that  he  was  mirroring  her  vulnerability,  that  he  was  opening  his  heart  to  her  in  return.  part  of  him  was  hoping  he’d  tempt  her  into  an  embrace  of  reconciliation,  but  he  wasn’t  exactly  holding  his  breath.  he  did  offer  a  soft,  hesitant  smile  which  lifted  sheepishly  pink  cheeks,  and  dared  to  advance  a  step  forward.  ❛  and  i  can  say  the  same  exact  things,  can't  i,  babe?  we're  a  rare  breed.  you  and  i  were  made  for  each  other!  ❜  a  helpless  shrug  complemented  his  desperate  endeavors  to  appease  her  and  appeal  to  her.  he  might  not  have  said  sorry,  but  he  was  definitely  looking  sorry.   

A frown adorned Sayuri’s features as she came to worry that she was in love with a man whose emotional depth rivaled a puddle left after a light rain. The mere suggestion that he, the man she held in such high regard, could be so inattentive as to overlook something she deemed so plain and simple was outrageous, scandalous even — enough to elicit a gasp from her, an exaggerated sound of indignation as she clutched the newly acquired plushie tighter. The unwanted present at least served the practical purpose of anchoring her in the moment in the face of such a devastating revelation! 

❛ You should know me! ❜ Theatrical yet truthful, the words clung to her lips — while Sayuri certainly wasn’t an easy woman to decipher, her very being usually shrouded in mystery and the quiet resentment with which she carried herself, she had opened her heart to him, after all. A torturous process, a long-fought battle against inner demons that had long held her captive. Dreadful and straining as it had been, she had finally deemed something, someone, worthy of seizing control over her heart, had exiled the hatred in its all-consuming form from it; the least she deserved in return was attentiveness from him, from the very person for whom she had welcomed love and the associated vulnerability back into her life. 

Should she, who placed him on such an impossibly high pedestal, who held him above all else, be used as the standard for what was appropriate in a relationship? Certainly not; yet, there was no other standard she could hold him to than her own ideals. And Sayuri was anything but nonchalant when it came to this rare connection they had forged. He was the sole object of her affection, her desires, her wishes — she, who had formerly harbored a deep-seated hatred for all things, hadn't strayed far from her path, carrying herself with that deeply ingrained mindset around others still. Yet, forgiveness had clawed its treacherous way into her heart; forgiveness for this world she felt had wronged her time and time again, for it had him, and what greater joy and nuisance could she imagine than that?

Given that, it felt entirely natural for her to pay attention to subtlest quirks and quietest details that made him him, that differentiated Satoru Gojo from ‘The Strongest’. It had been an elaborate indulgence for her, a joy she would eagerly revisit time and time again — so, was it really too much to ask, was it truly unreasonable for her to expect him to explore her innermost self with the same devotion that she so readily displayed when it came to him? 

Perhaps it was brazen to expect all that from a man who was not only accustomed to getting his way with effortless ease, but whose attention was simultaneously demanded from a sheer assemblage of competing priorities. Classes to teach, missions to undertake, meetings to attend — Sayuri was accutely aware of his usually overflowing schedule, the relentless demands on his time and energy. Others, surely, would be delighted by his dedication to show up despite it all, eager to shower her with his affection in its varying forms and shapes. Yet, she stubbornly held onto the belief that somewhere amid all his serious business, there should be a designated space — no, a carved-out slot — exclusively for ‘girlfriend worship'. It was about the feeling of being truly seen, truly valued, in a world that had often seemed to overlook the true her — a need buried deep within her possessive, demanding heart. 

❛ Oh, baby, ❜ Sayuri muttered, her voice laced with a mixture of frustration and wounded pride, ❛ let me make something clear: I am not an ordinary woman. You don’t get a love like mine and just wing it. You study. You learn. You memorize. ❜ A pause followed, laden with her disapproval. ❛ I open my heart to you, I give you the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to be with me, and this is how you treat me? Satoru, do you even grasp how many people would kill to be in your position? I’m a catch. And you better start acting like you know it. ❜

[thstrongest]

❛ you look cold.  ❜ mumbled as she kisses the cold tip of his nose to warm him up.

@gorekissed.

ALAS,  FATE  WOULD  HAVE  some  sort  of  malaise  abruptly  befall  satoru  gojo.  due  to  his  body  temperature  plummeting  considerably,  the  actuality  of  the  external  temperature  was  rendered  irrelevant  and  impotent.  thus,  the  overwhelming  cold  hollowness  within  completely  upended  his  typical  appearance  into  one  of  pallor,  instability  and  despair.

perhaps, his  instincts  differed  from  those  of  the  majority.  while  he  did  seek  out  a  source  of  heat  and  comfort,  he  didn’t  even  so  much  as  experience  a  passing  thought  of  brewing  tea,  engulfing  himself  in  a  bundle  of  blankets  or  wearing  thicker  fabric  to  hug  his  tremulous  form⸺essentially,  the  'obvious'  courses  of  action.  instead,  he  crowded  his  sweet  sayuri  in  a  frantic  panic.  it  was  almost  childlike.

he  seemed  unlike  himself,  yet  it  simultaneously  seemed  just  like  him  to  act  on  a  whim,  in  a  selfishly  indulgent  manner, disregarding  how  it  might  affect  others.  he  did not consider  that  suddenly  intruding  her  space  and  moving  in  so  close,  all  while  overtly,  unmistakably  unwell,  could  likely  frighten  her  and  put  her  into  a  state  of  panic  of  her  own.  but  such  thoughtless,  impulsive  behavior  wasn’t  borne  out  of  mischief  or  malice.  just  pure,  raw  need.  before,  it  was  like  he  was  struggling  to  stay  above  the  surface  and  afloat  in  uncharted  waters.  waves  and  tides  came  in  too  strong  for  the  strongest  sorcerer,  each  lap  threatened  to  submerge  and  asphyxiate  him.  but  out  of  spite  and  with  adrenaline,  he  managed  to  writhe  his  way  to  an  anchor.  her.  and  needless  to  say,  he  didn’t  want  to  let  go.

the  rarity  of  vulnerability,  any  bad  or  weak  feeling  made  it  all  the  more  harrowing  and  disorienting  in  the  event  it  overcame  him.  he  never  knew  what  to  do.  so,  he  tended  to  turn  to  the  one  who  knew.  who  always  had  the  cure,  the  answer.  who  had  the  ability  to  calm  him  down and  guide  him.

satoru  gojo  vulnerable  was  akin  to  a  precarious  tower.  a  formidable  entity  on  the  verge  of  collapsing⸺so  jarring.  unfathomable  until  it’d  happen.  a  hypothetical  downfall  would  yield  grave  consequences;  lives  would  be  profoundly  impacted,  chaos  would  commence.

a  man  of  imposing  stature,  he  usually  towered  over  sayuri,  but  now,  he  was  hunched  over,  clinging  to  her.  it  might  seem  as  if  she  had  an  immense  undertaking,  trying  to  keep  him  steady  despite  the  force  of  his  woe.  but  the  lonely  aspect  was  assuaged  instantly  because  of  the  closeness,  her  touches  reminding  and reassuring him  that  he  had  her.  she  was  here.

oh,  the  feeling  of  her  skin  elicited  intense  reactions.  of  course,  due  to  the  warmth  it  radiated,  but  the  affection  was  just  as  potent  and  welcomed.  with  his  face  in  her  careful  and  caring  hands,  he  leaned  into  her  ministrations,  rubbing  his  cheek  against  the  smooth  texture  of  her  palm  in  another  endeavor  to  find  regulation.

where  her  lips  pressed,  a  burst  of  tingling  warmth  was  left.  his  eyes  had  been  wide,  practically  bulging  out  of  their  sockets,  but  he  forced  them  to  shut  tightly,  hoping  to  immerse  himself  in  the  sensations,  as  if  immersion  would  cause  the  warmth  to  permeate  his  entire  being.  It  didn’t  work,  though;  he  remained  chilled  to  the  bone  overall.  her  influence  was  seemingly  failing  to  reach  him  this  time,  and  it  only  heightened  his  anxiety.  yet,  he  kept  clinging  for  dear  life.  she  couldn’t  be  outdone.  she  couldn’t  be.

his  chest  ached  from  rising  and  falling  rapidly,  incessantly  with  every  shallow,  shaky  inhale  and  exhale,  having trouble  accommodating  the  demand.  his  pounding  heart  was  also  a  culprit  indeed.

❛  s-sayuri⸺  ❜  he  wanted  to  shout  but  ended  up  croaking  her  name  instead,  vocal  chords  strained  from  sheer  emotion.  it  felt  like  the  last  gasp.  he  hopelessly  proceeded  to  bury  his  face  in  the  crook  of  her  neck,  like  the  contact  and  proximity  would  meld  them  into  one  somehow.  it  was  all  a  plea  for  her  to  make  this  go  away.