#||Snowy Speaking|OOC||

[sunyatas]

Like this for me to go through your memes and send you an ask

Specify a muse or you get random

[polteashop]

🎶 Snowy from Undertale

It doesn’t often snow in the tangle, but when it does, it’s truly a sight to behold c:

Anyways, I feel like Hibiscus would enjoy the song! :D I can see her playing it while running the shop, to encourage a peaceful atmosphere~ The cheerful and peaceful vibes it gives off reminds me a bit of her as well! ^^

[takeurexam]

guard down, because im safe around you

-sylus x gen! reader

>sylus is usually known for his cold demanour, his deal-addict dealings and being the leader of onychinus. he's known having his guard all the time, but when he meets you under the moonlight with fireworks, its as if he's a whole another person.

a/n: this can be mc or not :) i didnt think of mc, but if you want to, then sure

-inspired by nightplumes sylus like i love him that card is so good, and sorry if hes a little ooc

After your return to Linkon from the N109 zone, it feels awfully weird not seeing the dark skies, or the redish hue around the place. Linkon was... bright, compared to the N109 zone.

And you cant help but remember the oh-so annoying leader of Onychinus. You even feel yourself roll your eyes everytime you think of that man, although he was pretty much fine- he was annoying.

But you felt awfully bothered without him. You felt that the world lacked a little without the leader of onychinus teasing you, or making deals with you or some other people.

Well, he wasn't the only teasing man known to man, or unfazed.. and cocky, along with overpowered... but why was it that he felt different if you looked for someone like him? There were a lot like him in Linkon, yet he's the only one you wish to meet.

"Hey, you okay?" Tara bumps your shoulder as you stood there by the coffee machine, "You've been staring at the machine for like... two minutes straight." She tilts her head, with concern on her face.

"Huh? Oh yeah. Im fine." You honestly hope you were, because you dont wanna even think about the man anymore who scrambled across your thoughts.

"Sure? Well, see you." She shrugs and skips away from you as you blink into reality, remembering you still had work to do for the afternoon.

You sit down your desk, scrolling down your computer to see Linkon's latest news, chirping into the articles. A few more hours of work to go, then.

"Take a break." Tara nudges you, "Im gonna head over to the snack bar, you should get some air at the balcony." She points towards the snack bar, as you nod at her suggestion.

"Sure, eat well." You wave to her while she walks away. You prepare to stand up, along with a stretch and a yawn as you bring your phone and some snack to relax at the balcony for a while.

You make your way to the balcony; you push open the door to the balcony to reveal a snowy balcony with snow still pouring from the sky. You hug your coat tightly as you head over to the rails and admire the view.

The view was just the dark nights of Linkon, with the white snow dropping all around the bright city. You take a bite of your snack as you admire the view, taking in some fresh air, and not some from the office.

A caw suddenly interrupted your moment, as you see a familliar bird.. or crow, clawed over at the rails, staring at you.

"Mephisto?" You tilt your head, as you look at the mechanical bird, "Why are you here?" You touch it to confirm if it really is the mechanical crow, which indeed, it was.

"Sylus probably sent you out for an errand. You probably just noticed me over this balcony." Chuckling to yourself, you were reminded of the man you just mentioned.

You look over to the crow, "Its nice having company. Even atleast if you're a mechanical crow, its still quite comforting somehow."

The crow just caws as its head tilts, keeping its eye on you.

"I wonder, how is Sylus doing?" You stare back into the city view, "Its been a while since i've returned to Linkon. I haven't talked to Sylus in a while, which oddly feels weird." You start mumbling out.

"Its as if a part of me is still used to the N109 zone." You chuckle, "Im speaking nonsense now." You look over to the crow, "I'll be heading back in, Mephisto. Continue your errand." You walk away, but you dont forget to wave goodbye to the crow.

The time was currently 9:00pm, and you did your weekly overtime today. It was quite a tiring day, and you still had to drive your way home, despite being tired.

You grip the wheel of your car, as you start the engine; your phone suddenly rings unusually. But once you read the name, you dont hesitate any longer as you answer the call.

"Sweetie." There he was. The person your heart somehow missed- the one who your mind declined yet your heart was accepting, the Leader of Onychinus. His deep voice lingered around your ear.

"Sylus? Its about nine, what do you need?" You reply, gripping your phone in your hand.

"Meet me at the city lake." He suddenly announces, as your heart beats, "Huh?" You keep your voice normal, pretending that your heart was drumming hundreds per second.

"I thought a part of you missed me?" He chuckles against the phone, as you feel yourself go red, "No I dont- it was the N109 zone-" You pause. "How do you know I said something like that? Wait no-" You stumble with your words, with Sylus just laughing at you.

"Just go, Sweetie."

So here you were, driving 70km as you drove over to the designated location Sylus requested for you two to meet. Its as if you were late to work, and you drove so fast than you usually would, just for Sylus.

You find somewhere to park the car, as you notice his motorcycle parked nearby, which indicated that he was just somewhere close to you.

And there he was, his back facing you as he leaned over to the rails nearby the lake, he was wearing a brown coat which fit him perfectly.

His white hair was full of snow, which you let out a quiet snicker.

You approach him as he notices your prescence; oddly, you notice him flinch a little, which you assume his guard was down.

"You're fast." He comments along with a chuckle, as he adds, "There was a firework show in Linkon today, Luke and Kieran told me, and I suppose I needed a break." He looks at the sky.

"Did Mephisto tell you?" You cross your arms, he laughs, "I watch Mephisto fifty percent of my time. Of course, it would not go unnoticed that it saw a beauty like you, sweetie." There he is again, with his teasing.

"I didn't know there was a show today." You mumble, as you watch the sky in anticipation, "I've been so drowned lately." You sigh, breathing in the nice cold air.

As you anticipated, the fireworks suddenly erupted into the sky as you watch them, with your eyes sparkling.

Sylus dosent even bother to look at the sparkling fireworks. Why would he look at something else thats bright, when the brightest thing he could see was you?

When he notices you about to look back at him, he looks back into the sky, diverting his gaze from you.

"You really are dedicated." You giggle, as you notice the snow again on his hair, "Let me remove the snow on your hair." He smirks, leaning closer to you with his eyes closed.

Your mittens brush the snow from his hair, as he smiled with his eyes closed softly.

"Done!" You pull away as he does so too. He looks at you silently, a smile plastered around his face. "You could've just told me that you missed me, Sweetie." He brings up the balcony topic once again, as you feel your ears go red again.

"I dont miss you." You look away, embarassed.

"But I do." He blurts out.

You feel yourself slowly turn back to him, with your eyes widened, with his oh-so looking geniune smile around his lips. You feel your heart beating loudly that it would soon explode from your ears, and you feel your face fight the cold as you heat up.

"The N109 zone feels a little empty with you," He mumbles, awfully quiet. "I dont like feeling empty." He walks over closer to you, leaning towards you.

"So, let us fill that gap, right now." He leans closer to you as he presses his lips onto yours, snaking his hands over your waist, feeling your warmth.

You dont even process anything anymore except for his lips on yours, as you close your wide eyes, engulfing yourself into his lips, feeling the warmth of his lips cover yours.

Your arms wrap around his neck, as he deepens in further. The fireworks pop up once again, as two people stand under it, sharing their moment together.

bonus:

"What a nice kiss shared by those two." Captain Jenna, Xavier and Tara watch from the side, turning their gaze from the fireworks to the couple nearby.

"If only _____ was here. What a shame." Xavier crosses his arms.

"Wait."

The three pause, looking at the couple.

a/n: i usually write txt but i love this man so much bro 🙏 anyways, hope you guys enjoyed <3

see you soon, @takeurexam

[pupkashi]

“can i hug you? you look like you could do with it”

a/n: hi friends ! i hope u all enjoy this :] thank u for the request and sorry for taking so long :( i feel like this is slightly ooc for satoru but oh well :P

wordcount: 1,661

masterlist

you always watched gojo from a far, always a bit intimidated by the much taller sorcerer. he was carefree, always standing up to the higher ups in ways you’d only daydreamed of. he always spoke his mind, never once holding his tongue when it came to insulting those he disliked.

you’d always give him small smiles, telling him good morning and to have a good evening the times you had passed by him, not wanting to seem rude.

he would always say it back, continuing the conversation with you until you parted ways. he’d stand up for you during meetings, never allowing the higher ups to disrespect you. anytime he’d see your eyes widen a bit at the mention of a mission that seemed too difficult, he was quick to offer himself up in your place.

“don’t you geezers think i should take the mission on? y/n had something planned for the students anyway” he says, anger evident in his voice, but he’s shooting you a smile and a thumbs up as he speaks.

“fine, you can take this one gojo” one of the higher ups say, “y/n you’re free to leave.”

gojo watched you with a love struck look on his face. one you didn’t notice as you were too busy scurrying out of the room, trying your best to not get on the higher ups bad side.

after the third meeting of gojo taking on your missions you decided you should at least thank the man. you approached him shyly, giving him a small smile and saying hello, gojo smiled brightly at you, asking how you were.

the two of you clicked fairly quickly, eating lunch together when you could and making easy conversation. you’d listen to him gush about the first years and shit on the higher ups and he’s listen to you rant about your day and talk about the shows you were watching.

it’d only been a couple weeks since the two of you actually started to get to know each other, but you considered him a friend of yours, even if sometimes you did wish it was more than friendship.

you find yourself walking the empty halls on a thursday afternoon, the clocks ticking in the classrooms as you passed by them, heading towards your office to finish up some paperwork before the higher ups would get onto you for it. the setting sun causes golden rays to leak through the countless windows, shining on you as you continue down the halls.

there’s a cool breeze as you step outside, a sigh as you hold onto the papers in your hands a bit tighter, walking towards the garden area to cut through and get to your office a bit quicker.

a mess of snowy white hair catches your eye, making you slow your steps.

gojo satoru sat on one of the many benches, his elbows resting on top of his knees, chin in his hands. his uniform was a bit scuffed, you could only assume he’d gone out on a mission and only recently returned.

his eyes were covered by the familiar black blindfold, but there was a small frown on his lips. you debated not cutting through the garden today, leaving your new friend unbothered, but your body make the choice for you, already walking towards the strongest sorcerer with a small smile on your face.

“good afternoon gojo” you greeted, still a couple steps away when he turned to look at you, his entire demeanor changing to his usual cheery self.

“hey y/n! whatcha up to now?” his head titled a bit to the side, the mannerism reminding you of a puppy.

“just paperwork, how bout you?” you reply, sitting next to him on the bench, setting your papers down next to you, phone placed on top so they didn’t fly away.

“oh the usual,” he sighs, tilting his head back with a sigh, “thinking about my students, the future for the Jujutsu world and our place in the universe” he laughs dryly and you chuckle softly.

“but hey! there’s nothing gojo satoru can’t do” there’s a strained cheeriness to his tone, it’s makes your chest tighten. a tight smile paints his features, one that doesn’t even reach his eyes like it usually does. his shoulders are slumped and there’s no confident aura like there usually is.

now it’s your turn to frown, looking at him with gentle eyes before you’re speaking up, “can i hug you? you look like you could do with it” your face is burning and your heart is racing.

gojo is looking at you dumbfounded, did you really just ask him that? did someone tell you about his little crush on you?

“sorry! i didn’t mean to cross a line since we just-” you begin, your hands waving apologetically before you’re cut off with his arms around you.

the sudden contact renders you still for a second, then you’re snaking your arms around his neck, letting one of your hands find purchase on the back of his neck.

he’s burying his face in the crook of your neck, you can hear a soft hiccup leave his mouth. you don’t mention it, you only squeeze him tighter to you, trying to hold him together, trying to show him you’re there for him.

“it’s okay” you whisper, “I’m right here for you.” your words seem to strike something in him, as his grip around you tightens, his arms are firm around your waist, his fingers gripping the fabric of your uniform, as if he was scared if he let go you’d disappear.

it’s only minutes later of your hushed reassurance that he’s loosening his grip on you, pulling away with a bashful smile on his face.

“if we weren’t friends before we certainly are now” you smile at him softly. the words elicit a chuckle from the sorcerer.

“who told you?” he asks suddenly, following your movements as you pick up the stack of papers next to you.

“told me what?” your brows are furrowed softly and he can’t help but think of how adorable you look.

“‘bout how i like you” he smiles, his confidence already back in full swing as he’s grinning down at you, loving the way you grew flustered at his words.

“what?! no! nobody told me anything!” you shriek, suddenly holding the papers tightly to your chest, heart pounding so hard you can hear it in your ears.

“huh, figured you would’ve noticed by now” he mumbled, “you didn’t think i was taking on all your difficult missions as a coincidence did ya?”

you’re speechless as you stare at the man infront of you, never once did the thought of the gojo satoru having feelings for you cross your mind.

“well- i mean i thought it was” you sputter out, “why would i think anything else” you laugh nervously, “i thought you were just being nice!”

satoru is just smiling at you, shaking his head and watching the way the gears turn in your head as you ramble on.

“- and so i didn’t want the entire world to just implode you know?” you look up at him, slightly out of breath and your eyes still a bit wide. “what?” you grin, taking in the way he’s looking at you, not exactly sure what he’s smiling about.

“so you do like me? or was that whole metaphor not really a metaphor and the future of the world is in the palm of your hands” his head is cocked to the side again, a cocky smile on his lips and you’re rolling your eyes.

“yeah” you breathe out, looking anywhere but him, trying to slow down your heart rate as you realize what you’ve just admitted and who you’d admitted it to.

satoru doesn’t care that your poor heart’s going a million miles an hour, he’s putting his hand under your chin and forcing you to look at him. he has a soft smile on his face, one that grows wider when he notices the way you squirm under his touch, flustered beyond belief.

“how about dinner tomorrow at 7? I’ll pick you up” there’s a reassuring calmness in his voice that makes you smile back at him, nodding and replying with an ‘okay.’

it’s quiet for a second between the two of you, but he’s quick to break the silence.

“thank you,” he clears his throat before elaborating, “for being here for me,” shifting in his seat as you look at him.

now it’s your turn to stare at him while his eyes are darting from plant to plant. you’re biting back a small smile as you reply, “course, I’ll always be here.”

satoru studies your features, only finding genuine kindness written across your face. the same kindness that made his mornings a bit brighter and his late nights less exhausting. the same smile that makes lunch breaks feel too short and missions away much too long.

the two of you sit on the bench long enough for the moon to say hello. both of yoh staring up at the sky and it’s stars, your hands rest in the space between the two of you, pinkies brushing every once in a while.

satoru is the first to make a move, linking his pinky around yours before diving in and intertwining your fingers with his.

the two of you continue talking, neither one of you daring to acknowledge your linked hands. the blush on satoru’s cheeks was a secret kept between the moon and him, and the way your stomach flipped was kept quiet between the stars and yourself.

when you finally do reach your office, it’s only to set your paperwork down on your desk, closing the door and taking satoru’s hand back in yours.

“ready?” he asks and you nod, letting him wrap an arm around you and hold you close to him, giggles leaving both of your lips as he walks you home.

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @luna0713hunter @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags

[kakujis]

☆ 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒...

“...AND SHE'S FALLING ASLEEP, AS SHE'S WALKING WITH STRANGERS.”

synopsis: satoru’s had his eye on you for a while, who other than his best friend, suguru, to help him get you home?

warnings: dark content/ageless + minors DNI. afab!fem reader, modern au, naive/shy! reader, non curse! au. yandere!satoru. drugging, dubcon, voyeurism(sort of), non-consensual picture taking/recording, dacryphilia, fingering, p*ssy slapping, creamp*e, restraints, possessive behavior, blackmail, degradation, praise, pet names (baby, princess, angel, good girl), drooling, your friends are really shitty, suguru calls u a slut like one time. suguru is mean, satoru is less mean kind of, he's probs ooc at times. that should be it, if i forgot anything pls lmk.

ft + wc: mainly gojo x reader, lil bit of suguru x reader. around 5.8k.

network: @enchantedforest-network

a/n: well. this was a doozy lol. i started it back in mid september and it's taken me around a month to get here which is actually pretty fast for me! this was supposed to be part of my first mini kinktober but u can see with the pace i'm writing at... well LOL. anyways, big thank you to wallaby for actually getting me out of the rut to write this, koca the loml for helping me w satoru's dialogue (dirty talk)!! @sxgars for the banner, and nie, the other loml, for proofreading!

the embers burn under the twilight sky, as gojo satoru’s laugh bounces amongst the crowd. with feet buried in the sand, hands stuck in your hoodie, you stare at the bonfire. every so often, someone’ll throw another log in to keep it burning, the wood crackling like fireworks. it’s an interesting set of sounds, sights, and smells.  

your eyes flicker throughout the people surrounding you, some chatting away, some speaking only through makeout sessions, some are probably even arguing. none of them are your friends, not even acquaintances. you’re not sure why you agreed to come out tonight, coaxed by your own friends, who swore up and down they wouldn’t leave you alone this time, but ditched you when they found their hook up for the night. 

meanwhile, on the other side of the bonfire is gojo, handsome with snowy hair and blue eyes hidden behind his staple sunglasses, but loud and boisterous as he jokes with his friends, a small semi circle of individuals surrounding him. must be nice, you think before sighing and taking another sip of your watered down alcoholic drink, looking away when a voice calls out to you making you jump a little. 

“you alright?” he asks, squatting down to reach your eye level as you sit. when you look back, it’s geto suguru right in front of you, his own drink in hand, illuminated by the fiery light of the bonfire and the pale moonlight, the colors clashing against his skin. 

“i’m fine,” you reply, trying to keep your voice steady, but you’re already ready to back away. you’ve always thought geto was handsome, tall, with dark hair and dark eyes, and an aura you just couldn’t read. perhaps it was the infatuation that kept you here on this sandy beach, even when your friends were long gone, eyes always finding him whenever one of you passed by each other at parties like this. “you?” 

“it’s alright,” he shrugs, pulling out a cigarette from his shirt pocket and leaning back, using the bonfire to light it up. you watch as he brings it back to his lips and takes a long drag, cheeks hollowing as he inhales, before making sure to blow away from you. “much better when there’s a pretty girl around.”  

you heat up, looking at your toes, peeking through the sand. “.. thank you,” you reply, struggling to look at him as he takes a seat next to you on your towel. “you’re not so bad yourself. you’re geto suguru, right?” 

“why, thank you,” he says, scooting closer to you, “and i am. what’s your name?” 

you give him your name, heart pounding away at the close proximity. beyond the scent of smoke, he smells woodsy, sort of like incense. you wonder if you smell similarly, your vanilla perfume mixing in with the bonfire fumes. 

“pretty name,” he says before he repeats it back, the syllables rolling off his tongue easily and straight into your stomach, “you staying out much longer?”

he makes you dizzy, and somewhat anxious, you were never planning - at least in this lifetime - on ever meeting him, let alone actually speaking to him. you’re not used to this, more comfortable with people watching than interacting.

you shake your head, “nah, i was gonna head home soon,” you glance out toward the ocean swells, waves crashing against the beach before they recede back into the tide. “my friends are already gone, so there’s not much else for me to do.”

“aw, really? that’s a shame,” he replies and you peek back, his mouth pressed into a hard line, his  thumb tapping against his cheek, before he nods, brightening up. “need someone to walk you home?” 

you pause, “um… no, it’s okay, i-”

“you’re gonna walk home this late at night?” he asks, cutting you off with an eyebrow raised, “by yourself?” 

you glance over at the darkened road, the dim lights of the city sprinkled far off in the distance. it’s foreboding and who knows what lurks in the dark? besides, wouldn’t it be better to walk home with someone? the warm amber light from the fire plays on his face as you glance back at him. 

“i don’t bite,” he continues, giving a reassuring smile as his hands come up playfully, “i swear.”  

“… okay,” you give in, nodding, “sure.” you make a move to get up, but he stops you. 

“wait,” he starts, bringing his drink up closer towards you. “let’s have a toast.”

you giggle, the tension easing out of you, before holding yours up as well, “a toast to what?” 

he smiles back, “to new friendship.” he tips his cup to yours, but doesn’t take into account how much stronger his clink would be compared to yours. the rest of your sticky drink crashes down onto you, spilling and seeping through your clothes, while suguru’s quick to mutter out, “oh shit, sorry!” 

you shake your head, “don’t worry! it’s fine!” but suguru isn’t hearing it, his cigarette dangling haphazardly from his mouth as his brow is scrunched in concentration while he tries his best to wipe at the mess with his hands. embarrassingly, your core flutters at his touch, especially when his fingers swipe across your thighs. 

“let me clean you up,” he says, half mumbled from the cig, handing his drink over to you, before unzipping his jacket. “don’t have any napkins on me, sorry.” 

your nerves continue to fire off, getting the best of you and the words of ‘really! it’s fine!’ die off your tongue. you glance around, looking for something, anything, to take your mind off of geto’s sweater dragging across your exposed skin, especially when he dips down in between your thighs dangerously close to your heat, to dab at the liquid that’s dripping off your body. 

gojo’s laugh booms again, causing you to glance over at him and you welcome the distraction. you catch his eye and he gives you an excited little wave, catching you off guard. you wonder if he can see just how flustered you are, but still, you raise your own hand back and he grins wider, before breaking eye contact as someone else calls for his attention. 

in an effort to calm your nerves, the recent memory of gojo’s affable bright smile definitely not helping, you take a big swig of suguru’s drink, forgetting it’s not even yours. his drink is stronger, thanks to the lack of melted ice, burning as it slides down your throat which makes you cough up some, scrunching your nose as some liquid runs down the side of your mouth. 

but geto uses a thumb to catch it, smirking at the way you blink up at him bewildered, “all clean.” 

you take a breath to steady yourself before speaking, “um, could you…  take me home?” you push his hands away, wanting nothing more than to hide under the safety of your covers. at this rate, you might pass out, the night’s been a bit too eventful for your taste. 

he nods, getting up and dusting himself before reaching out with an outstretched hand. you take it without hesitation, tensing when he starts to brush the sand off your shorts. you let him do that for a few moments, breathing hitching when his hand gets concerningly close to the bare skin of the back of your thighs, heart thrumming in your chest and pounding in your ears.

“just making sure,” he says, before he throws his cigarette into the pit, slinging his jacket over his shoulder. “lead the way, princess.” he grins as he steps off to the side to make room and give a small courtesy bow which makes you laugh. 

he makes eye contact with satoru and gives a small wave before leaving with you, catching you each time you stumble in the sand, marked by shoe and foot prints from excited partygoers. he lets you know that he’s got you each time while you mutter out various ‘sorry’s!’ meanwhile, gojo peers over his friends, eyes honing in on your forms before he says a quick goodbye to them and runs off. 

as the two of you are finally on solid land, you hear a “wait a minute!” and glance back. jogging towards you is none other than gojo satoru and suddenly you feel like throwing up. you’re not too good at meeting a new person, let alone two. 

“hi!” he says as he huffs, hands placed on his knees. 

“are you actually winded from that?” geto laughs, a pretty little tune that plays on your ear. 

“i drank so much, dude. give me a break.” gojo responds. 

you’re even more uncomfortable as the two of them joke around, stuffing your hands into your pockets as you stare at the ground. satoru shifts so he’s in your view, bending sideways, pretty snowy hair falling down his face. 

“anyways… hey.” he says again but softer this time, twinkly eyes on yours as the corners of his lips upturn. “i’m satoru.” 

“hi,” you say, giving a small wave, before you state your name. “nice to meet you.” 

nervously, you glance back up at geto, who smiles reassuringly back at you. with your heart definitely beating a mile a minute, you back away. “it’s this way.” you say, jutting your thumb behind you, and the two friends nod. 

“we’ll follow you,” geto says, nudging gojo to stand up straight, who in turn, elbows him back. “go ahead.” 

you nod, trudging forward, listening to their continued talk behind you. it’s just their voices, the sea breeze, and the sound of shoes on pavement as you walk. you look back towards them, taking a moment to eye them, you drink in their tall, built forms, the matching dark outfits, sweaters and all, and for a bit, you decide to trust them. you trust the easy going smiles, the laid-back banter, and the way that satoru smiles each time he looks at you does a lot to ease the tension in your body. 

it’s not too long into your walk, maybe only 30 minutes since you took the last of your drink, before you start to feel… strange. there’s a heaviness that starts to settle in your limbs, your mind going foggy. you reach out, grabbing onto one of their sleeves, who’s sleeve? you’re not sure, but you grasp it trying to dig your nails into the cotton fabric, as your knees buckle from your own weight. 

“hey? are you okay?” a voice asks, bouncing around your brain as the scenery starts to spin. you must’ve grabbed suguru’s sleeve, as you try to focus on the inky strands of hair that fall past his shoulders. you reach out with your other arm, trying to grab onto something as you continue to fall, a ring starting to settle in your ears. 

“geto?” you call, as you feel another large hand on your lower back, trying to keep you steady. “i think, i need… to go home.” but you don’t hear a reply as the void takes over you, swallowing you up, as you fall completely unconscious into the arms of geto suguru. 

the two of them are quiet, the easy-going atmosphere suddenly gone. you’re thrown over geto’s arm haphazardly, limbs limp, as they stare down at you. gojo speaks first.

“that was quick,” he says, bending down to brush your hair away from your face. “how much did you give her?” he trails his finger down your cheek, poking the skin, before tracing the outline of your lips. he has half a mind to kiss you, but decides against it, wanting his first with you to be when you’re awake.

“the usual,” geto responds and if you were awake, you’d see he feels a little colder, eyes almost vacant. “you wanna carry her? you like her more don’t you?” 

“i don’t just like her,” gojo responds, before he’s lifting you out of geto’s arms. “i’m gonna make her my girlfriend and depending on how well things go, i’ll marry her soon.. ish.” he cradles you gently, carrying you in his arms, princess-style like as he watches you with mirth filled eyes. 

geto rolls his eyes, “oh yeah, i’m sure she’s gonna wanna date you after this.” 

gojo snorts, glaring daggers at his best friend, “she’s not gonna have a choice.” 

maybe if you weren’t so naive, you wouldn’t have ended up like this. you blink awake, body still heavy from whatever drug was, or perhaps is, still coursing through your veins. the lull of sleep continues to beckon you over, the weight of your eyelids aiding in it’s cause, but you try to stay awake. something feels wrong. 

you decide to start with your legs, wiggling them around when you realize you’re in a bed rubbing your legs against the silken sheets. you focus upwards, wanting to move your arms to prop yourself up, until you realize: you can’t.

the rope around your wrists is tight, coiled up and keeping you locked in place. even as you try your best to wriggle out of them, you’re doing nothing but giving yourself rope burns as panic starts to settle within your bones.the room you’re in looks normal enough, a desk off to the side, jacket hanging on the door, but there’s something sinister in how normal it looks. and you wonder just whose bedroom is this? 

“oh, hey, you’re up.” you hear as the bed dips under the newly added weight. it’s gojo, peering down at you. he’s taken off his top and jacket, leaving only his pants, and if you weren’t terrified, you’d probably appreciate the sight. you can see his eyes clearly now, his sunglasses sitting atop his nightstand and as beautiful as they are, you can’t be lost in them for long. 

“gojo?” you try, voice barely louder than a whisper. 

“call me satoru.” he responds, a pretty smile gracing his features. 

“where..” 

“are you?” another voice chimes in, a voice that’s sweet, almost mockingly so. you glance towards the direction it’s coming from to see suguru, head leaning against his open palm. he smiles when the two of you make eye contact, the same disarming smile he gave you a few hours ago. “heyo~”

you’re still disoriented, glancing back between the two of them as you try your best to slide out of the binds. 

“hey, hey,” satoru starts, placing a hand over your wrists, “you’re gonna hurt yourself, baby.” his warmth isn’t comforting, it’s terrifying and the way that pet name falls off his tongue so easily freaks you out further. just where the fuck are you?

you can feel your tears welling up, nevermind the fact that your consciousness is still foggy. you’re exposed - vulnerable - with two men you’ve only met recently. there’s goosebumps on your skin, clad in nothing but your panties as you try to curl in on yourself, but gojo won’t let you. instead, he wraps an arm around you and pulls you closer, your head resting on his thigh. 

“gojo,” you plead, starting to sniffle, “i wanna go home…” 

“satoru.” he reminds you gently, before his hand starts to trail up and down your side, trying his best to comfort you. “i’ll take you home later, okay?” 

you shake your head, tears starting to fall, little droplets stain his pants, “why not now-”

“told you,” suguru drawls, interrupting you while his expression remains uninterested, “she’s scared out of her mind.” 

“thanks suguru, great input.” satoru deadpans, shooting him a glare before his focus is back on you. “i can’t take you home yet, but i will. i promise.” and those words shoot straight to your stomach. it’s so eerily similar to earlier, when geto promised he’d take you home and that he was safe. 

“my friends…” you mumble, “are gonna notice i’m missing.” it’s a pathetic attempt of a threat, your friends are already long gone and home for the night, but there’s the hope that when morning comes and your “i’m home” text doesn’t show up, they’re bound to notice, right? 

“hm? which ones? the ones that left you or the ones that let us take you here? oh wait, those are the same ones.” suguru taunts, snickering as the pit in your stomach grows by the moment, “it’s really funny what people will do for money.” 

you furrow your brow, heart shattering at the confession, because there’s no way your friends would sell you out. but the shit-eating grin that won’t leave suguru’s face, almost as if it’s etched in stone, silently confirms your worst fears. “i don’t…” - understand is the word that should be said, but it escapes you like the sand between your fingers on that fucking beach that you never should’ve been at in the first place. 

“okay, so, don’t freak out.” gojo starts, before muttering, “well i guess you already are, huh.” on the brightside, the drug suguru gave you is strong enough that the disorientation nestled so deeply within you is able to keep your screaming at bay. 

satoru’s focus, unlike yours, is almost too sharp. he’s been chasing after you for a while, but finally having you in his headlights is driving him insane. the tips of his fingers continue tracing up your arm til they find the depressions in your neck, that he has half a mind to wrap around to see what you’d look like with his hand as a necklace. but that can wait, he’ll be soft with you for the first time. 

“the important thing is that you’re here with me. you came out to have fun right? have fun with me and i’ll take you home.” he winks, his easy-going front still on full force as he tries to calm you down, but you flinch when he gets a little too close to your lips. 

in your mind you know, there’s always a catch. “what do you want from me?” you ask, voice featherlight, but everyone in the room knows what it is he wants. 

“i think you know,” suguru chimes and if you could curse him out, you probably would. “why else would we bring you here?” 

“hmm,” gojo hums, his thumb gliding across the top of your cheek to swipe at some of your tears. “you know, you’ve been coming around to our little get togethers for a while, but this is probably our first real conversation.”

gojo’s always liked you. when he first saw you, he thought you were cute. doe-eyed and clumsily searching for an open spot to sit while you did your best to hold onto your friend’s shirt, you caught his eye. cuter still were the pretty laughs that came from you, sometimes even snorting when something particularly funny was said. 

there was a minor issue though: you’d never look at him, no matter how much he bounced off the walls, even when he’d head over and say ‘hi’ to your friends, you scampered away much more interested in your hands situated in your lap. and maybe that was the charm, you were prey he wanted to catch. 

it wasn’t long til he noticed your quick, continued glances at suguru and how you only did it when you were sure he wouldn’t notice you. he was sulky at first, irritated that his best friend seemed to take his spotlight, but who is geto suguru if not gojo satoru’s closest and greatest friend? and with enough prying, geto got the information out of him and simply laughed. gojo was a little hesitant when geto suggested a plan, something they haven’t done in a while. 

“i dunno, i thought we decided we were over that.” satoru pouted that day as he stared off, focused on the others at the park. 

“you got any bright ideas, lover boy?” suguru retorted, leaning back on the park bench, hands in his pockets. 

“nah.” he shrugged, elbows on his knees and bent forward. and so they ended up here again, except, in gojo’s bedroom for once. 

“you know your friends were pretty easy to convince,” satoru grimaces, his thumb swiping at your tears. “you should really get some new ones.” 

you’re unsure if you’re more mortified than flattered that satoru feels so strongly for you. but there are no words that spring up in your mind, there’s nothing you can possibly say. 

“listen, the goal here, princess,” suguru starts putting emphasis on the pet name as he gestures between you and gojo. “is that satoru fucks you, you’re his girl, and you guys get to live happily ever after.” 

“...and if i refuse?” you counter, but your voice is still barely above a whisper as tears continue to fall down your face. 

“dunno if you wanna do that.” satoru sighs, before he catches the phone that suguru throws over. he opens it up, before turning it towards you revealing the photos they took of you earlier, tied up and exposed. “i mean you do look really cute in these, but i’d rather they stay in our circle for now.” 

the weight of that word is heavy, because there is no universe in which you’re allowed to say no. you’ve fallen deep into their sticky web with no chance of climbing out, the only thing left is for their fangs to sink into you. the images they’ve taken burn into your mind and you steel yourself to find your resolve. 

there’s a few pros when you think about it. gojo’s handsome, a little funny, and seems to actually like you. you’re not entirely sure if it outweighs the con of fucking drugging and then kidnapping you, but what can you do with the cards you’ve been dealt? geto is whole nother can of worms you don’t feel like delving into. 

“fine.” you sniffle and gojo perks up, lips curling up into a smile. “… i’ll do whatever you want.”  

“told you she’d say yes.” he singsongs as the other rolls his eyes. “that settles it, you’re officially apart of the gojo clan!” neither you, nor suguru, have the heart to tell him that you didn’t actually agree to marriage. 

“well then!” suguru claps, making you jolt. “let’s get started, yeah?” he shifts from his spot, moving til he’s back up against the headrest. “let’s get you a little more comfortable,” he says, pulling you up til your back is flush against his clothed chest. “that’s better.” 

you don’t have time to worry about just how fast things are going when satoru slots himself between your legs, heart racing in fear mixed with anticipation when he pushes your panties to the side as his fingers flutter around your clit. 

meanwhile, suguru is pulling your thighs back, locked beneath his elbows. as much as you want to close your legs, you can’t. suguru’s too strong for you. 

“you don’t need these, right?” gojo mutters, hands gripping one side of your underwear, but there’s no reason to answer as he rips them clean apart, chucking them onto the floor. 

it’s silent for a moment as satoru watches the rise and fall of your chest, quickened in your panicked state, before his eyes meet yours. he grins, “man, you’re so fucking cute, you know?” 

you heat up under his gaze, and you try to look away, but he simply leans in, so close your noses almost touch as he stares deeply into you before looking down at your lips. your breath hitches again as his lips ghost over yours and you shut your eyes when he asks, “can i?” 

it’s an odd first kiss with your hands tied up and his best friend in the same bed as you in a tangled mess of limbs but he’s surprisingly soft. you’re falling, so deeply into the kiss that you don’t notice the way suguru pulls your knees up more so he can get better access to your chest. 

you squeak when you feel a pinch on your nipple, suguru seemingly getting bored and deciding to pass the time playing with you. your squeals soon turn to moans as he rolls the nub between his fingers and satoru uses the opportunity to slip his tongue in, spit mixing with yours as your mouths mesh together. 

his fingers find their way downward again, lightly trailing up and down your folds with feather light touches, making you twitch each time he brushes against your clit. you jolt when he sinks a finger in, encouraged by the wetness of your hole, pushing back against geto in an attempt to squirm away, but you can’t, sandwiched between two men who can do whatever they want, however they want.  

gojo’s good, adding in another thick finger to your slick heat and sliding in your gummy walls. it’s different from when you do it, your digits are slender and smaller than his. you keel, moaning and thighs trembling, but gojo’s lips stay firmly on yours as does geto’s hand which continues to pinch and palm at your breast, sending ripples of hot pleasure through you. 

“you gonna cum on his fingers, pretty?” geto murmurs, voice low as he nips at your ear. 

satoru continues to pump away, fingers curling into your sweet spot and dotting your vision in stars of white. he picks up the pace when you mewl louder, the sound rushing straight to his dick as your slick rolls down his hand. you press further into suguru, whimpering and thighs tensing before you cum messily on satoru’s fingers, bucking and kicking as much as he allows you. 

“that’s it,” suguru drawls, his hot breath on your ear, “good fuckin’ job.” he says it like he’s the one inside you, churning up your insides. 

satoru pulls away, a small trail of saliva connecting the two of you that he laps up with his tongue. he slightly groans at your pretty spit slicked lips, before he’s taking out his aching cock. he’s big. big enough to make you whimper as he rubs your juices over his cockhead, precum already beaded on his tip, before running it through your sensitive folds. he’s slow, wanting to enjoy his first time with you, as he lines up to your still twitching entrance. 

“fuck,” he hisses as he sinks inch by inch into your dripping pussy. the stretch drives you insane even with the prep beforehand and he stills when he bottoms out, hips flush with yours. “sucked me all in, huh?” 

suguru and satoru move like they’re sync’d, somehow knowing what the other wants to do. suguru’s hands are replaced as satoru pushes your knees back up against your chest as your head lolls backward onto suguru’s shoulder, mouth agape.

“ah, ah,” suguru tuts, cupping your cheeks with one hand before forcing you to look back at the other. “let him see your pretty face.” 

“s-sorry,” you manage to say before satoru starts moving, your breath getting caught in your throat as you mewl out, “oh, fuck.” 

a breathless smile falls on satoru’s face, as he watches yours contort in pleasure with each slow drag of his cock within your tight walls that seem to swallow him up with each thrust. your embarrassment is long gone, replaced with a fervent need as satoru fucks every single thought out of your brain. 

“satoru,” you whimper and he digs his nails harder into your thighs, to not blow his load right then and there, but the way you plead his name as you stare up at him with needy, glass-blown eyes almost sends him over the edge. “satoru.” 

“yeah?” he coos, leaning in and tilting his head, as he slows the pace down, “what do you want from me, baby?” 

“use your words,” suguru says, pressing hot kisses to your cheek, reminding you that he’s still there. “c’mon, i know you’ve still got some in that pretty little head of yours.” you can feel his erection pressing against your back, as his hand snakes down to your clit to rub slow, sticky circles on your sensitive nub. “or are you too dumb on satoru’s cock, hm?”

gojo laughs, spurred on by geto’s continued teasing, “aww man i think she is. wanna be my lil cocksleeve? get fucked stupid everyday?” 

he laughs harder when your eyes roll back, cunt clenching at his words, the first time you’ve been talked down to like this. meanwhile, suguru switches to hook a finger into your mouth, digging his nail into the wet, warm cavern of your cheek, hot breath puffing onto his hand. when your eyes flutter up at him, he snickers, “you good?”

you feel a tap on your cheek and shift your blurry focus back on the one inside you, buried up to the hilt while his hips still slightly grind into you. his blue eyes burn through you and in moments like this, you truly can’t read him. “answer me.” 

through the haze you nod, but it’s not a good enough answer in suguru’s book. “you can do better than that.” he chastises bringing his hand down onto your puffy clit, slapping hard enough to make you squeal and bite down on the digit keeping your mouth open.

tears prick your widened eyes as he does it again, “that’s for biting me, brat.” he hisses, and you find your words again, stumbling out ‘sorry! ‘m sorry!’ as drool runs down your chin and his hand. but suguru is fucking mean, swatting down at your puffy pussy, each hit just as hard; a stark contrast to the sneer on his features while he hooks in yet another finger to pull your cheek further out. 

although the nicer of the two, satoru can’t help but be enamored with everything you do, especially if you’re screaming and crying trapped between the arms of his best friend. his cock twitches in your cunt, “well fuck, aren’t you pretty when you’re cryin’ on me?” he groans, pulling back out just to slam his hips back into yours at a brutal pace making you squeal louder.

you’re incredibly overwhelmed, glancing back between the two of them as the tears start to leak down your face again, chest heaving. you hate that it feels so fucking good to be used like this, having absolutely no control. still, you fight against your restraints once more, trying to raise your hands just enough to push against satoru’s abs to slow down, but it’s all moot, he won’t stop until he’s satisfied.

“shh,” suguru soothes, starting to play with your clit again, trying to ease the sting. “sorry for getting carried away, you’re just so fun to ruin.” his hand once again moving to cup under your chin, smearing drool and tears across your skin and  tilting you so that his tongue is able to press against your cheek, licking a stripe to taste the saltiness of your tears as his chest vibrates with a low groan. he can’t wait til it’s his turn to get his hands on you. 

“suguru - oh fuck - ‘m sorry, fuck, ‘m really sorry,” you blubber between moans, still whining and writhing, he raises an eyebrow at you with a hungry grin, liking the way you call his name. 

but satoru’s the one who answers, breathless and groaning, “it’s okay princess, shit, don’t worry about it. just focus on me, alright?” 

you’re pliant and close to your high, easily shifting back to satoru, watching him through muddied vision and mumbling out, “mkay, satoru.” 

the sweat rolls down the side of his brow and he’s so close to letting go, but satoru’s a bit of a romantic, thinking it’d be best for you to cum at the same time. still, the way you call his name has him glaring up at suguru, letting him know what he wants. 

his friend nods in acknowledgment as the speed of his fingers quickens, expertly working over your clit. “c’mon,” suguru taunts, already caught on to how much you like it when they’re mean, “be a good little slut and cum on satoru’s cock, yeah?” 

his words run straight to your core, as you babble out “mhms,” body tensing and jerking as your orgasm is finally coaxed out of you.

“fuck,” satoru hisses, groaning out, “good fucking girl.” as he unleashes his load deep into you. 

you hiccup and whine a few more times before you go limp in suguru’s hold, falling asleep. 

“shit, i think she passed out again.” suguru mumbles before he undoes your bindings, uncharacteristically kind as he rubs his palms over your tired and sore wrists. carefully, he slips out from underneath you, letting you fall back onto the bed. “you overdid it, satoru.” 

gojo’s unresponsive, chest heaving as he stays within you, so geto takes it upon himself to do the finishing touches. he reaches over, grabbing his phone and unlocking the camera app. 

pressing the red button, he captures the scene. you’re effectively passed out at this point, arms sprawled at your sides and head lolled back. this is always his favorite part, even more so than the actual fucking. there’s just something so fun about recording the aftermath, messy and dirty and oh so wet. 

satoru swoops down into view, throwing a wink and a smile, before reaching out for the phone. suguru obliges, tossing it over to let gojo capture what he sees. 

“you stayin’ over?” gojo asks, paneling down the expanse of your skin, littered in sweat, cum, and marks. he makes sure to record when he pulls out, as slowly as he can, to show off your swollen hole leaking out his seed.

“yeah, i’ll knock out on the couch.” geto replies, grimacing as he notices the wet patch of cum and fluids on his pants. he swipes a clean pair of gojo’s hanging on the back of his computer chair before heading out. he stops at the door with a quick turnaround to ask, “let me play with her sometime?” 

“of course,” his friend responds, kneeling down between your legs, spreading open your folds to further watch his sticky cum drip from your abused hole. “i owe you big time. let me know if you need any help yeah?”

gojo’s like a kid in a candy shop, delving his fingers in between your hole and your folds to catch some of the sticky substance dripping to the floor before bringing it up to the camera with a whistle. 

suguru shrugs, hungry eyes scanning back to your sleeping form before his lips curl up into a smirk. “nah, don’t think i’ll need to.” 

and satoru’s the same, just as insatiable as his friend, tossing his phone to the floor before he’s crawling up over you again, nose burying into your dizzying scent. fuck, he should’ve asked if you were cool with somno. well, maybe it’d be alright. it’s not the worst thing he’s done tonight. 

[lees-chaotic-brain]

A hopeful fan's suggestion for a fic:

Song: 'Streetfight' - Smallpools

Character: Gojo

Genre: Angst

🙃

summary: you've always been there for him, but he doesn't realize until it's too late

cw: underage drinking (like one paragraph mention), alcohol consumption (briefly in beginning), gojo's a bit of an asshole, some swearing, korean word used in a japanese dessert because idk the japanese word, self-depreciation, reader has reverse cursed technique, reader is a little pushy, blood, implied panic attack sorta, not canon compliant, major character death, gojo is a little ooc in the beginning, spoilers, angst, hurt/minimal comfort

wc: 6.4k (holy fuck)

note: hi anon. again, sorry this took so long. i'm unsure about how i feel about this, but i hope you enjoy it. this is formatted a little differently than the rest of the song fics, but i hope that's okay!! to everyone else who is awaiting a request: i promise it will get done at some point i just need to finish all of my event fics, and all my swapped extras, then i'll be back on track. thank you for being so patient with me <3

you can listen to this while reading, however the beat and tune itself is a little upbeat for the tone of this fic so i would recommend listening to it before/after reading!!

Event Guide | Event Masterlist | JJK Masterlist | Blog Navigation

January 9, 2018, 4:03 AM

The stale air reminds you of how deep under the surface you are, constricting your lungs. The ropes chafe at your wrists, and you’ve long since given up on staving off your boredom by counting the endless talismans covering the walls. Leaning back in the chair, you attempt to breathe. To forget that tons of earth are surrounding you, to ignore the oppressive weight of the talismans crushing your cursed energy. 

Looking back, you’re not sure when your admiration for your upperclassman had shifted from admiration and respect to something deeper. Perhaps it was the first time you noticed he wasn’t invincible. That he was human and struggled too. Or maybe it was when you shared your cheap supermarket candy with him, not expecting anything in return, only to be pleasantly surprised when he shared his expensive daifuku with you a few days later.

It could have been even later than that, when the reality of being a jujutsu sorcerer hit your little group without warning and you realized just how fragile Satoru was. But as waves of memories crash over you it was unimportant exactly when it happened. Succumbing to their pull, you sink into their peaceful blue depths, allowing the ebb and flow of the past to drag you away. 

January 1, 2006, 12:07 AM

Stumbling out of the second year’s dorm, the welcome sensation of the cold winter night washed over your flushed skin. You had counted down the new year just a few minutes ago and needed a break from taking shots with Shoko seeing as your upperclassman could outdrink you any day. 

Probably a little too tipsy to climb up to your favorite spot on top of the dorms you instead opt to take a short walk through the gardens, hoping the fresh air and sharp bite of the air would help you sober up. The silvery moonlight filters down through clouds that promise a snowy morning, barely illuminating the stone path beneath your feet.

Passing by a side path that leads to a small grassy clearing you pause, backing up. There, sprawled on his back with his blindfold removed, lay Gojo Satoru staring up at the sky. The innate beauty of the sight stuns you. His hair gleams as the moonlight highlights the pure white of his hair, and his eyes glitter, crystalline and sharp.

Your breath leaves you as you marvel at his otherworldly appearance before you approach him, laying down beside him on the frozen grass with a crisp crunch. Staring up at the navy sky scattered with stars you don’t say anything for a couple of moments.

“It’s a New Year.” You’re surprised he speaks first, but listen quietly, breath puffing in plumes of white before drifting away and disappearing. “It’s a New Year yet I’m not excited.”

Mulling over his words for a moment, you reply. “That’s not necessarily a bad thing. But do you want to talk about why?”

His hesitation is palpable so you continue. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. But if you do, I promise that it’ll stay between us.”

"It's just...I’m a year closer to graduating now, and I don't want to graduate. As soon as I graduate I'll officially be the honored one. The strongest sorcerer. The one expected to protect everyone. But I don't have a domain expansion and I barely have control over my cursed technique. I don't care about what the stupid higher ups think but..."

"But?" You prompted gently, turning your head to look over at him. As if sensing you gaze, he turns his head as well, meeting your eyes.

"But I don't want to let you guys down." He looks a little embarrassed. "Suguru, You, Shoko, Nanami, Principal Yaga, and Haibara. Oh, and Utahime I guess. I really really really don't want to disappoint you."

You sigh, and he sees your expression soften. "It may not be my place to say anything, but I don't think any of us would be disappointed in you no matter what you did. The higher ups and others may see you as the honored one, but to us you're just Gojo, our fun, sometimes obnoxious, classmate."

He snorts at that and you smile, relieved that it seemed to make him feel better. "Thank you." He says sincerely. "I really appreciate it."

"O-of course!" You stammer, flustered by his gratitude. "It was nothing, really. If you ever feel like that again you can come talk to me if you'd like."

He flashes his signature smirk, but it lacks its usual cockiness. "That would be nice. I'll keep it in mind."

With an endearing mixture of ease and awkward clumsiness he climbs to his feet, brushing himself off. "Well, I'm headed back in. Maybe you should stay out here and cool off a little longer. You're looking a little red."

Winking cheekily, he disappears in the direction of the dorm leaving you lying on the grass blushing furiously. A cold prick hits the side of your face, and when you turn to look up at the sky you notice it began to snow.

And despite the frozen flurries lazily drifting down before landing on you and stealing your heat, your chest feels warm and fuzzy. Maybe next time he needs to talk to someone he will come to you. Maybe he would allow you to be there with him. Maybe next time you would have a longer conversation.

Absorbed in your maybes and hopes for the future, you had no way of knowing this was the last time he would be open and let his vulnerability show.

May 14, 2006, 3:01 PM

The mood is strange as your group of five finally enter the barrier surrounding jujutsu high. On one hand, everyone is relieved to have finally reached safety, but on the other hand…

You glance over at Riko Amanai, the lively girl you had gotten to know over the past few days. It isn’t fair. She was only a year or so younger than you and yet for some perverse reason the universe had decided that her duty was to sacrifice herself and die.

Lost in your thoughts, you vaguely hear Gojo saying something stupid about never babysitting a kid again and Riko responding indignantly. 

It isn’t fair. It isn’t fair. It isn’t fair. It isn’t- 

Schlick

The wet sound of a blade running through flesh snaps you out of your thoughts, and you slowly turn, looking to your left. A long, vicious looking blade protrudes from the center of Gojo’s chest, the dark blue fabric of his uniform slowly turning a deep purple as his blood seeps into it.

Time freezes as you struggle to process what you’re seeing. You don’t understand. You made it within the barrier. You should be safe. So how-

Your breathing quickens as you try to make yourself move. Gojo is using weird, unnecessary metaphors to explain how he managed to save himself from the stab wound and telling Geto to leave, to take Riko and go. Your body still refuses to respond. Why are you so useless? Why can’t you-

Geto yells your name. “Stay here and look after Satoru! If something happens and he gets badly hurt you’re the only one who can help him. I’m counting on you!”

With that he’s gone, leaving you with the stranger with the scar on his lower lip, and Gojo, who’s muttering under his breath about how Geto must have no faith in him, assuming he’s going to get hurt like that. He’s gone and they’re fighting and-

Blood. There’s so much blood.

The man who did this is gone, not even bothering to go after you as you pose no threat to him. But Gojo, Gojo is on the ground, lying in a rapidly expanding pool of his own blood. A strange garbled sound falls out of your mouth, and you’re scrambling towards him, scraping the skin off your knees as you kneel at his side.

One glance is enough to tell you that you don’t have the amount of reverse cursed energy or skill that you would need to save him. But you had to do something. You couldn’t just leave him to die. 

“Gojo!” You yell at him as you place your hands over the gaping hole in his throat, blood spurting out from between your fingers. “Remember when Shoko and I tried to teach you how to use reverse cursed technique? Do you remember? Can you try to help me?”

Tears stream down your face as you push energy into him, slowly knitting the muscle and tendon in his throat back together. Already you could feel the toll healing him was taking on you, and your progress was too slow.

“Gojo! If you don’t figure it out you’re going to die. Hurry up, damnit!!” You sob, hoping against all hope that a miracle will occur and he’ll figure it out before the little time you are buying him with your healing runs out and he dies. 

Just as you’re about to lose hope, to give in and accept that you aren’t good for anything, that you can’t even heal a couple of wounds and save a life, the blood seeping through your fingers slows before stopping. With bated breath you pull your hands away and reveal…nothing.

Smooth, unmarred skin greets you, no sign of the gaping wound that was there only seconds ago. A quick glance down reveals that the stab wound in his chest is gone too. You know you weren’t responsible for his rapid recovery, so that could only mean-

“Gojo?” Your voice is quiet as you tentatively wave your hand over his eyes. “You in there? I can’t believe you figured out how to use reversed cursed technique on yourself that fast! You really are insanely talented!”

He opens his eyes, and you can just tell that something is wrong. For one, any emotion or sign of the upperclassman you so cherished was gone, replaced with an empty mask, devoid of all feeling. For another, his eyes were glowing. Glowing so bright it almost hurt to look at them.

“...Gojo?” You reach for him hesitantly, but he just stares right through you, almost like he’s looking at something in the distance beyond you. Your fingers only barely brush the dirty, torn fabric of his uniform before he appears to glitch, and disappears without a word.

Sitting back on your heels, you gaze in shock at where he had been only seconds before, unable to stop the sickening feeling crawling along your insides, telling you nothing will ever be the same again. 

August 03, 2007, 11:23 am

If the death of Amanai Riko just over a year ago was your polite -albeit cold- introduction to death, then the death of Haibara Yu is an unwanted guest barging into your house and forcefully familiarizing itself with you.

Of the six members of your ragtag group of second and third years Yu was by far the best person, beloved by all. His death probably hit Kento the hardest as they were the closest, but everybody felt the hole left by his death.

In the immediate weeks after you didn’t have time to question about what happened or think about how your upperclassmen were faring. You were stuck in an endless loop of caring for Kento; convincing him to eat, making sure he takes care of himself, telling him to keep on living. Caring for him took a decent amount of your time, and the rest of it was spent having breakdowns in your room and trying to hide the fact that you were having said breakdowns. You couldn’t be falling apart. You didn’t have much worth as a jujutsu sorcerer, you couldn’t help them much in a fight, but you could be there for them as a classmate and friend. If you couldn’t you were just useless all around.

Somewhere around when it had been a month since Yu’s death, you thought of Gojo. Gojo, who had told you a little over a year and a half ago about the pressure he felt to protect everyone. To not let anyone down. And once that thought occurred to you, it hung around in the back of your mind, a constant presence reminding you that Gojo could be suffering, that he may be blaming himself for all of this and no one was there to tell him it wasn’t his fault. So one day you went looking for him.

He was a relatively predictable person, so after checking his dorm, then the common area, then the training grounds, you were almost positive he was in the garden. The very spot where he had opened up to you for the first time. And sure enough, when you had picked your way through the overgrown foliage lush with summer you found him in the same position he was then; lying on his back and gazing up at the sky.

Quietly, you make your way over to him, flopping down onto the grass beside him. Getting comfortable, you take a moment to speak, and are caught off guard when he addresses you first.

“Hey.”

He speaks, not sounding surprised to see you. Well, of course he wasn’t. He probably sensed your cursed energy as soon as you started heading in this direction. Annoying jerk.

“Hey.” Fluffy clouds drift by overhead. “How are you?”

“I’m fine.” He answers in his normal overly cheerful tone. “What about you?”

A dry laugh escapes you before you can hold it back. “Hanging in there. Are you sure you’re okay? I just wanted to check in. You know, no matter what anyone else says or what you expect of yourself you couldn’t have-”

“I told you I was fine.” He interrupts, sitting up and ruffling your hair. You protest, sitting up and batting his hands away as he just laughs. “Don’t be such a worry wart. I can see the exhaustion on your face. Go get some sleep. Seriously. You look half dead.”

“Wow, just what every girl wants to hear.” You roll your eyes. “You flatter me, Gojo.”

“I know I know.” He grins at you. “Now, I’ve got important third year duties to attend to so I’ve gotta scram. See ya!”

With that, he’s gone, vanished to who knows where. Flopping back down onto the grass, you consider taking a nap outside hoping the fresh air would do you some good. It was a beautiful day, after all, and Gojo had told you to get some rest. But every time you close your eyes, all you can see is the grin on Gojo’s face. It’s large and toothy, and if you didn’t know him as well as you did you would think it was real. 

You would think it was real, except you know him well enough to tell that behind those tinted glasses, his smile doesn’t reach his tired, bloodshot eyes.

September 28, 2008, 2:36 PM

As soon as you heard the news you went to find him, knowing that he was in pain. Following Shoko’s directions and ignoring her warnings about leaving him be. If he needed to be alone you would leave. If he needed someone to lash out at, you would sit there and take it. If he needed someone to cry on, you would offer him your shoulder.

Whatever it was that he needed in this moment, you would be that for him. But you weren’t about to let him be alone at a time like this. Not when he just lost his best friend. You knew you were no replacement for Geto, and that it was selfish of you to go looking for him if he did truly want to be alone. But on the off chance that he did need someone, you couldn’t just leave him be.

Just as Shoko said you would, you found him sitting on the stairs leading up to Jujutsu Tech. He’s manspread, his elbows propped on his knees as he gazes out at Tokyo sprawled out below. 

“What is it?” His voice is empty and monotonous, so unlike his usual cheer. “Do you need something?”

“I, uh.” You flounder, words leaving you. What were you even supposed to say? “No. I don’t need anything.”

Slowly, you make your way down the stairs until you’re only a few steps away and pause. “I just wanted to ask if you need anything.”

“If I need anything?” He parrots, scoffing. “If I need something? Yeah I need something. I need my best fucking friend that’s what I need.”

You wince, the vitriol and anger in his voice apparent. Shoko was right. He was clearly struggling and needed space. You made a mistake in coming here.

“Of course. I’m sorry for coming here, I should have just left you alone.” You start to head back up the stairs and hesitate. “Just know, if you ever need something, anything really, I’m here for you. We all are. You don’t have to shoulder this burden alone.”

Having said what you needed to, you begin the climb back up to the entrance of the school, pausing when you hear him spit your name. You turn around, waiting for him to say more.

“You seem to believe that you, Shoko, and Nanami are capable of helping me and supporting me.” He spits the words at you, and you’re stunned by the quiet rage and despair that laces them. “But you aren’t. Simply because you guys aren’t strong enough. You don’t have enough talent. You will never understand what it is like to wield the strength and power that Suguru and I do. He is the only one that can even begin to understand the burden I carry. So don’t be presumptuous to assume that you can do anything for me.”

You open your mouth, your words sticking in your throat as you struggle to find your voice. He’s right, after all. You’re weak and useless. Who were you to think that you could do anything for him? “Gojo, I-”

The chime of his phone going off interrupts you, and he pulls it out of his pocket to check it. Standing abruptly, he shoves his phone back into his pocket, not even sparing a glance back at you. “Sorry. They’ve spotted him. I’ll be leaving now.” 

And yet again, he uses his technique to warp space, disappearing before your eyes. You’re left standing there alone as the wind whips at your hair, gazing at the city that you’re sworn to protect as a jujutsu sorcerer. 

Gojo was right. Not once have you been able to help anyone. At best you’ve managed to stay out of the way, and at worst your weakness caused trouble and put others in danger. You were worthless. You stand there silently for a long time trapped in a spiral of self-loathing and helplessness before you head back to the school, retiring to your dorm.

Later that night, when you’re washing your face and getting ready for bed you look in the mirror and stop. The look on your face, the look of self-hatred and worthlessness accompanied by the deep bags under your eyes and the unhealthy pallor of your skin is strangely familiar. You suck in a breath.

That’s right. This is the expression Gojo wore when you spoke to him earlier. That’s where you had seen it before.

December 27, 2017, 11:54 PM

“Hey.”

You flick on the lights, bathing Gojo’s apartment in a warm glow. After no one had heard from him in a few days, you finally went to check on him at your students' behest. All of them expressed concern for him in one way or another, wanting to know if he was okay so you finally gave in and said you would go check on him. 

He uses the same password for everything, so guessing the pin to his apartment was easy enough, although you weren’t sure what to expect when you actually saw him. Almost ten years have passed since the last time you tried to have a real conversation with Gojo, and as the last one didn’t exactly go well you weren’t eager to approach him with the same topic.

He was sprawled on an obnoxiously large couch in the main space when you entered, blindfold draped haphazardly over his face but at the sound of your voice he startled and sat up. You frowned.

That was strange. He should have been able to sense your cursed energy from miles away. Him being caught off guard by you meant he must be really out of it. 

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to surprise you.” You’re hesitant, slowly approaching him. Smiling awkwardly, you hold up the bag of daifuku (a favorite of both of you) that you picked up on your way here. “I brought sweets. You want some?”

You half expect him to tell you to get lost, so you’re surprised when you find yourself sitting beside him on the couch, silently sharing the mochi. Taking advantage of the quiet you survey his apartment, your chest aching at how empty and cold it is. It doesn’t look like anyone lives here, and you suspect this is the first time he’s spent the night here in months. You wouldn’t be surprised if you were the first person to enter this place other than him since he bought it.

“So.” You fidget with the soft treat in your hands, thick, dark red patso oozing out from the center when you squish it. “The first years are doing well. I was able to patch up Inumaki’s throat and head injury pretty easily while Ieri took care of Maki. Panda’s fine too. Yaga has him good as new. Oh, and Yuuta is closer to them than ever, I-”

“I’m assuming you didn’t just come to share daifuku with me.” He chirps, cramming another one of the sweets into his mouth whole. “I’ve seen you eat your weight in these and you threatened to castrate me the last time I tried to steal some of your daifuku. What’s up?”

“Okay first of all, that was almost a decade ago, get over it.” You shoot him a look, taking a bite of mochi. Normally the combination of the thick, sweetened patso and the stretchy, chewy glutinous rice cake was your favorite, but today it just tasted like a sticky mouthful of nothing. “Second of all I’m here because the first years are worried about you, and I am too. How are you holding up?”

“Me?” He laughs, the sound grating on you. “I’m perfectly fine. I just needed a day off to rest my eyes. I get that you all love and need me so much but can’t a man take a day off every now and again? Ah, the struggles of being important.”

“Gojo.” Your voice is quiet, but deathly serious. “Drop the act.”

“What act?” He reaches for another sweet, biting into it. The sticky smack of the rice cake separating from itself as his teeth sink into it makes you slightly nauseous. “Oh, are you talking about Geto? I’m not too torn up about it. I mean, he left what, eight, nine years ago now? He was practically a stranger at this point.”

“Then why did you tell Yuuta that he was the only friend you ever had?” When the sweet, floppy haired first year told you that you had almost started crying in front of him. “Did killing your best friend really mean nothing to you? How can you say you’re okay?”

He shrugged nonchalantly, popping another bite of daifuku into his mouth. “I dunno. But really, there’s no need for you to be so concerned. This doesn’t involve you-”

“How can you say that?!” You’re shaking, unable to hold back any longer. “You are the most selfish, self-absorbed person I have ever met! There’s no need for me to be concerned? This doesn't involve me? Did it ever occur to you that he was my friend too?”

Embarrassingly, tears blur your vision and you blink furiously to hold them back. “What about Ieri? Is this none of her business? All this time you’ve acted like you were the only one who lost him. You seem to forget that Ieri was in your year as well. That there were three of you, not two.”

The daifuku pops in your fist, sticky sweet filling smearing across your palm. Despite the white wrapping loosely draped over his eyes you knew that he wasn’t even looking at you as he calmly reached for another rice cake. That was your last straw.

You snatch the styrofoam tray away from him and hurl it against the nearest wall with all your might, unable to express your rage and hurt in any other way. The force of your throw sends bits of exploded rice cake and red bean paste flying around the room, splattering on everything. 

Silence falls over the room, and neither of you move. Then, infuriatingly, he barks out a laugh.

“You’ve gotten a lot stronger. I’m impressed. You must have worked hard.”

“Yeah, yeah I did.” You take a deep breath and make your way towards the door. Pausing with one foot outside, you look back. “Come find me when you’re ready to stop being an asshole. We’ll talk then.”

With that being said you disappear out the door, leaving him behind for the first (but not last) time. 

January 8, 2018, 12:03 PM

Absentmindedly swirling your stupidly expensive chai latte, you watch as eddies of milky foam spiral into fragrant chai. Across from you, a certain white haired man stuffs himself awkwardly into the booth, the cozy corner it’s located in not exactly tall-people friendly. 

“Did you deliberately choose the smallest booth in here?” Gojo huffs, rearranging his bunched limbs under the table. His leg presses against yours. “Long time no see. How have you been?”

“It’s been less than two weeks.” You sigh, setting down your mug and crossing your legs, severing your contact with him. “But I’ve been good.

You pointedly don’t ask how he’s been, and he doesn’t tell you, not that he would have had you asked. “I’m sorry I was an asshole. You were right.”

“Is that all you have to say?”

“Is there anything else you want me to say? I don’t want to give you excuses.”

“You’re actually the biggest idiot I’ve ever met. Listen.” You lock eyes with him, holding his gaze. “While I would obviously prefer it if you just opened up to me completely, I would also be overjoyed if you gave me excuses because it would mean that you cared enough about my impression of you to try and fix it. But you have never once tried to explain yourself to me, or Ieri, or Kento. How do you think that makes us feel?”

He at least has the decency to look abashed. “I-I’m sorry. I never thought about it that way.” He clears his throat. “I never wanted to force you guys to share my burden. I realize I was wrong and that I was only making things worse by shutting you out.”

“Do you really?” Your gaze is intense, and he can’t help but admire the fire shining in the depths of your beautiful eyes. “I do. Truly. Can I…Can I talk to you about something?”

“I’ve been telling you, that’s literally all I want you to do.”

—-----------------------------------------

Hours later, you stare at Gojo’s retreating form, the warmth from his parting embrace still lingering on your body. Adrenaline is buzzing in your veins, your brain running a million miles a minute. Gojo was planning on killing the higher up. Gojo was planning to kill the higher ups. And he had trusted you enough to tell you about his plans.

Holy fuck.

Flopping onto your bed the instant you get inside, you stare up at the uneven drywall of your ceiling. Gojo is going to kill the higher ups, and when he does it will send jujutsu society spiraling. Some will support him wholly out of fear or respect. Some will attempt to put him on trial for his crimes. And some will attempt to cozy up to him in an attempt to gain power. 

Rolling over onto your side, you bend your arm and rest your head in the crook of your elbow, closing your eyes. Wouldn’t it be better if he just hired someone to kill the higher ups? No, because if they were traced back to him it would only make things worse. Honestly it would be best if he wasn’t involved at all. 

The faces of the second years and little Megumi (well, he wasn’t so little anymore) flash in your mind's eye. They need him. He’s the only one who is guaranteed to be able to protect them. He is their best chance at having a bright future.

 Mulling over your options, you briefly consider hiring assassins yourself but quickly dismiss the idea. There was no guarantee they would be able to kill the higher ups. In the last few years you were able to rise to a grade one sorcerer -and one of the more powerful ones at that- but even you wouldn’t have a chance at taking out all of them unless you caught them by surprise. 

Wait. That was it. It wasn’t guaranteed but if you plan accordingly you like your odds. Gojo had done so much for all of you over the last decade and finally it was your chance to repay him and show him that you were useful. That your training had paid off. The only problem was, he didn’t tell you when he planned to kill them. Which means if you want to make sure you get to them before he does…

You have to come up with a strategy, prepare, and take out the higher ups tonight. 

January 9, 2018, 4:54 AM

Gojo swears his heart stops beating for a few seconds as he stares at Principal Yaga in shock. “She did what?”

As his teacher speaks, Gojo is aware of the words leaving Yaga’s lips, but there is a strange disassociation between the syllables he speaks and their meaning as Gojo’s ears ring. After a few minutes of numb questions interspersed with stunned silence he understands enough of what happened and is gone.

He’s not sure how, exactly, he managed to figure out and get to where you are (Yaga must have pulled some strings) and everything is one confusing blur of gray until the door to the catacomb you’re being held in swings open. Then he sees you, bound to a chair and disheveled, the bruises marring your skin stark in the soft glow of the talismans. Yet somehow, he finds you as beautiful as ever.

“Who is-” You lift your head, and your eyes widen when you see him. “Gojo? What are you doing here?”

“Me? What am I doing here?” He shakes his head in incredulity. “Why are you here? Also, why wouldn’t I be here?”

“Because I’m basically a dead woman and associating with me will only cause you more trouble, especially after they’re done disposing of me.”

“No. Don’t say that.” He shakes his head in denial, his brow furrowed in determination. “I’m not going to let them execute you. Don’t worry I-“

“Gojo.” Your voice echoes through the chamber, and he falls silent, hair falling across his forehead and obscuring his eyes. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not!” His long legs carry him across the limited space as he paces agitatedly, anger in his voice. “How are you okay with dying? Actually, never mind. I don’t want to hear you say anything.”

Spinning, he faces you and for the first time since he entered he makes eye contact with you. His heart skips a beat when your eyes meet his, fire still blazing in the depths of your eyes despite the bone-deep weariness lining your features. It takes him a moment to find his voice.

“I’ll be back.” He interrupts, not letting you speak. “Just give me an hour, okay? Promise me that you’ll wait. Just for an hour. Promise me that you’ll still be here when I come back for you.”

Your hesitation is palpable, and in that moment he would have given anything in exchange for knowing what was occurring in your mind, your face revealing nothing. Finally you seem to come to a conclusion to whatever you were considering, and exhale loudly. 

“Okay. I promise.”

He nods jerkily, and turns, exiting the cell without saying goodbye, rationalizing that there was no need for goodbyes since he would be seeing you in an hour. As the doors swing shut, he turns around and catches a final glimpse of you, bloodstained and bound, before the door bangs shut with a finality that didn’t sit well with him.

As he shakes off the ominous sense of foreboding swirling within his chest and leaves, he has no way of knowing that in a mere fifteen minutes from that second, only a quarter of the time you promised him, the clan elders finished their meeting and sentenced you to death.

He has no way of knowing that in thirty three minutes, only a little over a half of the time you promised him, an executioner would enter the room he just left, before leaving a measly thirty seconds later, blood staining the edge of his clothes.

You promised him thirty six thousand seconds of time, but it only took less than two percent of that for your life to end in a cold, dank, room miles beneath the earth’s surface. It takes only half a minute, a fraction of a fraction of fraction of a lifetime, but in that tiny, insignificant amount of time, you leave him behind for the second, and last, time.

Present Time and a Little Past That

There’s no doubt that Itadori Yuuji is a good kid that deserves saving. Anyone with eyes and a conscience would agree. However, Gojo’s motivations for wanting to save him are a little less pure. Where he should see a fifteen year old boy, scared out of his mind and needing guidance, all he can see is you, and an opportunity to make up for his past failure.

When he first saw Yuuji, and on occasion after that, he didn't see fluffy pink hair and wide brown eyes. Instead, he sees your hair, lightly dusted with snow as you lay beside him on frost-kissed grass and your eyes, gleaming in the moonlight as you tell him the words he never knew he so desperately needed to hear.

Looking Yuuji is simultaneously so painful Gojo thinks death may be preferable, and as close to peace as he’ll ever get because even if it’s just little glimpses, he can see you again. So time and time again, he saves Yuuji’s life, and puts the futures and safety of his students above his own in an attempt to repay the insurmountable debt he owes you. 

A little less than six months later, as he lays on his back gazing at the bright blue December sky above him, he finds himself thinking about his students. Even without his lingering guilt and the responsibility he felt as the Honored One, he thinks that he still would have done everything he could to protect his students because they were good kids. 

He finds himself hoping that they will somehow find a way to triumph, and live normal, peaceful lives filled with love and joy and laughter just like they deserve. But in the final moments before his eyes drift shut he thinks of you, and hopes that wherever you are you’re happy. And maybe, just maybe, when he next opens his eyes he’ll be greeted by your smiling face, and he’ll finally get to say all the things he never got to tell you.

Little does he know that somewhere far, far, away there is a little airport. It’s a strange airport; there are no entrances, no baggage claims, no security. There is only one gate, leading to a single, unmanned plane that doesn’t have a set departure time, and a small waiting area with simple black seats.

In this area, a small group of people are gathered. There is a boy, around Yuuji’s age with dark brown hair and an animated smile, happily chattering away with another boy his age sporting a side part and an old soul that doesn’t match his physical appearance. Off to the side, a young man with deep, haunted eyes apologizes quietly to a grizzled older man, his body trembling as he cries.

The older man removes his glasses and wipes at his eyes, before patting the younger mans’ back and telling him he’s forgiven. And there, sitting on the chairs closest to the windows with a soft smile on her face, sits a girl.

A girl with eyes that burn with determination, and a self-sacrificing attitude. A girl who has so many things she wants to say, but the person she wants to say them to has yet to arrive. A girl who will wait, as many lifetimes as it takes, to see him again and tell him the words she holds deep in her heart.

In her fantasies, when they reunite he sweeps her up in his arms and holds her like he never wants to let her go again. No words are needed, and there are tears and laughter, and yes, kissing. She shows him the others. He embraces the young man with the dark eyes, and pokes fun at the old soul. Then they all go and board the plane together, heading to their final destination.

As the plane soars away into the sky in her mind's eye, something tells her to turn around. Slowly, she does, and a melancholy tinged smile stretches across her face as a familiar figure materializes in the center of the waiting area.

He may be a little early, but at last, he’s here.

general taglist: @arlerts-angel @ponderingmoonlight @hotvinimon @evemooniepeach

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thin dividers by @mikeykuns. the medium thickness ones and banner are mine :)

[heavenbloom]

🇵🇸 BEFORE YOU READ: donate, daily click, boycott tlou

🥀 — the melody haunts my reverie | e.w.

synopsis: drunk and witnessing the first snowfall of the year, ellie can’t help calling her ex-lover.

content: mdni. angst upon angst, profanity, mentions of alcohol consumption, probably ooc, not proofread

a/n: entirely inspired by stardust by nat king cole. yeah idk what this is 🤷

This yawning stretch of emptiness… it was a hollow that she felt from the gullet to the pit of her gut. It was an absence, an insistent and burning nothingness that clung to her like a wet woollen sweater. She had grown accustomed to it, a poltergeist that no exorcism could rid.

What she wasn’t used to was the need to alleviate its bone-gnawing presence. She let it be for over a year now, let its cavernous depths linger untouched and fester. 

Why, all of a sudden? 

Why did her heartbreak morph into a dagger, and carve out what little was left of herself?

These questions were needless. She knew why.

She sat next to the frosted window of her tiny apartment, staring up at the starless sky. She watched as snowflakes floated down to the earth with the grace of miniature angels. They spun as the wind kissed them before they plummeted to the earth. Sweet, subtle, soundless.

Her chest was taut as a bowstring. It was snowy and silent that night as well, but the bleak weather had held off this year, a moment of mercy, a period of grace. But now that it was here… 

The alcohol slithering through her veins soured, sinking into the depths of her aching heart and sparking something coal-hot and foolish. All her inhibitions were abandoned the moment her hand grazed against the cool glass of her phone screen. 

The movement of her fingers was automatic. There was a tug at her gut as she typed in the familiar number. She had deleted it last winter, but it was seared in the very back of her memory. Everything was.

There was a flicker of hesitation as her finger hovered over the call button. Ellie knew that you wouldn’t want to talk to her, but she was too close now to the sweet release that would finally satiate the thing inside her that begged and whined for scraps.

Your voice. The one that caressed her gently into the melting sugar of a moonlit night. The one that shattered upon its vocal chords when it spoke of a dying love. The one so melodious even if it had quieted down to a mere whisper in the haze of her memories.

She sucked in a breath as she pressed the button. The ring trilled into the dead-quiet of her apartment. One, two, three… a pause. Her lips parted, heart scrambling, as she went to speak, but your own words poured from the speaker before she could. 

It went to voicemail. Of course it fucking did, but she didn’t have it in her to feel disappointment. Not when your syrupy voice filled the stillness like honey and mellowed her from the inside. She had always teased you for such a polite voicemail greeting, but now she felt her gratefulness for it, the proximity of a stranger, wracking through her very soul.

Her eyes fluttered closed for a few meagre seconds until the sound of your speaking was sliced to silence by a singular, piercing beep.

She gazed at the snowflakes once more. Spinning and blurring, breaking her heart all over again. Faint crackling came from her phone, like the old fireplace in your little home. Were you sitting by it now? Were you bundled in another’s arms with the same fireside-tangled hair and drowsy eyes? 

She exhaled and slipped her phone onto her lap, staring as the seconds counted upwards. She had come this far and pretending she didn’t intend to call you would make the entire situation worse. Everything within her wrestled for the opportunity to tell you how she felt. You understood, at least, the shape of her heart, even if you wanted never to hold it in your palms again. That was enough, she thought. It would have to be. 

“Hey…” The word came out as apprehensive and shaky. God, she sounded pathetic to her own ears. What would you think? Would you even bother to listen?

Her breath came out in little puffs and fogged the windowpane just an inch from her lips. She focused on this instead of the hummingbird-like fist of a hear punching against her ribs.

“It’s the first snowfall of the year. Took a while to come, huh…?” She despised this, the casualness in which she spoke. This distance was living and beating. She could feel its presence in the lump in her throat and in the clamminess of her palms. It loomed and threatened to crush her under its careening weight. 

She looked up at the blank, peeling white of her ceiling, the static of the void buzzing in her ears as she blinked back hot tears. You weren’t there, but this was a sort of closeness. It was the only closeness she was granted.

She at least owed you honesty. You knew one another better than this, not so long ago. Souls that mingled. Surely you left a piece of yourself within her and vice versa. If she were her own being, if she belonged only to herself, it wouldn’t hurt this much. There wouldn't be something inside of her that reached it scrabbling fingers out toward you, that longed for you.

“Fuck, all I can remember right now is… that night,” she said, her voice as raw and ragged as tearing cloth. “I don’t know if you’d remember this but you wrapped your scarf around my neck a minute before you ended things. You saw that I was cold... shivering– you fucking hated me in that moment, I know you did, and you… you still decided to love me."

A sob ripped past Ellie’s throat before she could reel it back and she had to cover her mouth with a quivering hand. Her auburn hair curtained her blurry eyesight as she curled further into herself, choking on purgatorial tears. This wasn’t fair.

“I’m not asking for second chances or shit like that. I’m not asking for anything from you, I just…”

The phone gave another beep, but this one felt more apologetic. Remorseful. Your time is almost up.

She sniffled, the rush of her tears seeping into her sweater. Into the scarf hung loosely around her neck. Each salty drip tainted the near non-existent smell of you. Caramel coffee, synthetic lavender. Washed away in the twining river of her heartbreak.

She gulped in air, raked her auburn hair back. 

“I miss–” The call ended abruptly, her phone screen fading to black.

The flurry outside continued, tenderness rendered physical. She was alone again. The wool slipped from her neck and limply into her hands and she gathered it to her chest, a wail sailing out of her throbbing chest.

– You. I miss you.

[embersofnovember]

CLIPPED WINGS

summary: stryker's taken you hostage with the means to find a way to eliminate half the global population. logan doesn't like the idea too much.

warnings: injury, slight gore(?), referenced/implied trauma and torture, strykers lowkey an obessive weirdo for a bit, a little ooc oopsie, reader's pov (part two is logan's pov), not as epic as the summary sounds i fear

wc: 1882

you aren’t sure what scares you more: the aching in your side or the realisation that you’re still here. surrounded by four rust stained walls, you’d grown to sleeping on the stone cold floor and counting each crack in the ceiling, each drop of water, each beat of your heart. 

   how long have you been here again? 

   they named you x twenty seven, whenever you were first brought here. you weren’t sure why. they all stare at you with cruelty, like you’re some insect, a weapon they only care to use against your own kind. the front man, stryker—the only name you cared to remember as each guard said his name—speaks of his ideas. his fascination, his disgust, his intense desire to eliminate what he believes, the ‘worst half of the population.’

   his own son. 

   you see other subjects—mutants—just like you and scott and logan and you wonder. 

   you saw him once. jason. you stared at him like he was one half of you and you were one half of him: exhausted. a mutant in a large base with no concept of time and a monster at both of your feet.

   you were just the end of a beginning. a ‘cure.’ an ‘experiment.’ 

   naturally, stryker didn’t talk to many people about his ambitions. you were there to fill his void, someone to talk to and not give any response back. of course, you did at first, but the longer it went on, the less fight you had in you.

   “i remember wolverine all those years ago. even if he doesn’t remember me.” he sighed, observing you as a guard strapped you down to a table, fingers unforgiving, leather tight and a dull ache in the back of your head. 

   “i used to think he was one of a kind.”

   it isn’t that your ability is exactly dangerous. not uncontrollable like scott’s, or anything like that. you could tell what people felt. an on or off sense. in a way, it felt like a curse. you could feel what others felt, but people couldn’t do the same for you. you didn’t blame them; how could you when no one asked for any of this? feeling a presence mere miles away isn’t an ability you admire, or cherish, but it isn’t one you despise. 

   which is why you’d been sent out to scout around an area with scott. a snowy area that didn’t leave very good footprints. the cold was blistering, the tips of your own fingers tingling. one of you took a wrong turn, and the fog had grown so dense it was hard to see three feet in front of you. 

   now you’re here, and they’re trying to rid you of your ability. the start of a global killer. 

   they’ve already made so much progress. 

   you don’t know where scott is; stryker tells you he’s dead, but that can’t be true. cyclops, leader of the x-men, couldn’t be dead, but now as you sit here curled into a ball on your side wondering if everyone forgot about you, you’re starting to think otherwise. 

   yesterday, they beat you within an inch of your life. the day before that, they pricked and prodded you, the day before that they didn’t let you sleep. blood used to make you feel faint. not anymore.

   moral of the story, thinking about logan is the only thing keeping you sane. 

   the drops of water are endless, irregular. the beats of your heart fall slower and slower as each day goes. stryker’s voice is firm in a similar way to logan’s, but logan’s is deeper. it’s more gruff, more honeyed. you think of the times where you both would sit on the roof of the mansion silently, slowly learning to become more and more comfortable with everyone else. as they beat you, you think of the first time logan finally gained the confidence to sleep in your bed, or when you slept in his. as they make you bleed, you think of the time where he had a nightmare and his claws nicked your forearm, because it’s a lot better feeling pain from someone you love than someone you hate. 

   when the door slowly swings off its hinges, you stiffen. you didn’t want to be vulnerable at all. though, after a while, it was hard. you shrink in on yourself, have no choice but to live through the throb in your shoulder. 

   at least two of your ribs are broken. every breath is more of a wheeze. the position you're in, curled into a ball on your side with your back facing the long, metal door in the corner, you hug yourself a little more. it’s a protective shell you’ve learnt to build in case a guard comes in and kicks you with combat boots thick enough to crush your skull for the fun of it.   

   no, you think to yourself. not again. 

   the second a hand is on your aching shoulder, you’re scrambling, wincing in pain like a wounded animal as you shuffle back on a bruised hand and a dislocated shoulder. you attempted to put it back in, but with a sore wrist, you could only do so much. 

   “hey!” a voice says in a hushed whisper, like consoling a hysterical and understandably upset child. this time, the presence doesn’t seem so daunting. intimidating, but not cold. gruff, but not as sinister as stryker’s.

   “i made him like that, you know,” stryker grinned, flexing his wrist and pushing it into a fist as if to show who he was hinting at. 

   “made him what he already had been. an animal.” 

   you hear the voice and for a second you don’t think it’s real. how could it be? after… days, weeks, months. it doesn’t feel real, but when you shift the shaky arm obstructing your sight a little, and you see his dishevelled appearance, it’s almost too good to be true.

   the tufts of hair pointing outwards. the fuzz of his beard. the crease between his eyebrows that’s never gone away. 

   “lo?” you whisper out. 

   and at that, logan doesn’t really know what to do when he feels his heart sink further in his chest. 

   “‘s me, baby, it’s logan,” he nods, as if assuring both you and himself. 

   though you’re still unsure, this time you don’t let yourself pull away when he reaches out again, hands a lot more softer than before. sure, you flinched, and logan had grimaced at that, but the wonder in your eyes makes your vision swim a little, because he’s really here. 

   “it’s you,” you manage to say. throughout your time in the underground base, over time you spoke less and less. only when spoken to, which, even then, wasn’t often.  

   despite everything, it’s still you. 

   his beard looks a little more grown out than you remember. his teeth are the same shade of white. his skin is as rough as always, like his personality, similar to the way he retreats back into his far more reserved ways after a bad day, and he’s here. 

   “lemme look at you,” he murmurs in that drawl of his. a hand cups your jaw. a tender thumb grazes the apple of your cheek and you’re too busy gazing at him. it’s as if you’re trying to commit him to memory. eyes are darting all along his face, looking at every feature and trying to figure out which one you missed most.

   logan’s been able to stomach a lot of things, but he isn’t sure if he can stomach this. 

   even when they tried to take away your abilities, you can still feel. although it exhausts you every time, you still can, and you feel the shock settle in his regenerative blood vessels when he swallows. for the first time in a long time, terror. it’s subtle, but you pick up on it. 

   “fuck,” he whispers under his breath. you didn’t hear it. he looks up at you, eyes not lying or being able to conceal the sheer amount of both relief and dread that’s washing over him in a violent wave. he’s never liked water. “think you can walk f’me?” 

   a silence engulfs the two of you. the door is still open. maybe it isn’t a trap. you really are being saved. a wave of relief crashes over you so intensely you almost feel as though you could live without the burden again. despite the shrieking alarm outside in the halls (that you can’t really hear anyway) and the crimson flashing from the alert, you can’t believe it. unable to trust your wording, or your head, you nod.

   which you end up regretting, anyway. 

   logan hooks an arm around your waist, the other pulling your arm behind the back of his neck to support most of your weight (since when did you grow so light?), but not even when he holds you to his side, it doesn’t help. your legs are giving way, your knees numb and you can’t help the strangled noise in the back of your throat.

  it’s three poorly strung together words. it’s murmuring in the background as you lay on a table, unable to move partly in fear of what would happen if you did. it’s smelling the damp and using it as your only comfort for when it got a little too cold. he’s trying to be careful, but he’s desperate. 

   “i’m gonna carry you, okay?” he murmurs, but you don’t even take it in before he’s already curling an arm under the back of your knees and your back, lifting you into his arms like you were nothing more than a sack of flour.

   he feels warm. strangely like the sun, even if his personality reflected everything but that. you’ve always been tempted to fly a little too close to the sun.

   “i can walk—“

   “don’t.” his voice is demanding—the smallest waver hidden in the very back of his throat, near his tonsils. he’ll bleed for you. over and over. for a second, he wonders if you can hear the pounding in his chest, but he pushes the thought away like everything else in his life, and he walks.

   he walks for a while, it seems.

   past dead bodies, oddly splayed out in ways that similarly reminded you of yourself. flickering lights and crackles of sparks. electricity. shouting. gunfire. 

   “you came,” you whisper, more to yourself than to him. it had been a battle trying to convince yourself everyone still remembered you after stryker was breathing it down your neck. 

   “‘course i did,” he murmurs, more focused on the fact that you’re alive and breathing rather than listening. he’s more focused on getting you out so he can look at you and love you like breathing. his eyes are clouded, darkened with unwarranted and directed anger. 

   he’s oblivious to who stryker even is, but you’re not, and faintly, before you pass out with agony in your eyes and threatening to spill down your cheeks, you feel the taste of snow on your tongue.

   snow, one that reminds you of the last moments you were with scott before this all happened. purity, a nice cold chill that shakes your already trembling bones. 

   “don’t ever do that again.” 

   and whatever he means, you don’t plan to.  masterlist!!

[omgrachwrites]

Sweater Weather - Carmy Berzatto

Pairing: Carmy Berzatto x Reader

Summary: Carmy visits you at work and slowly opens up, revealing more of himself to you.

Warnings: fluff, so much fluff, dialogue heavy, prob ooc Carmy

A/N: This is part two of my Carmy mini series! Hope you guys enjoy and please let me know what you think, I love you all! xxx

part one

It was a slow day at your bookshop in the middle of the city but it was alright, you had to get some paperwork done and now was the perfect time. The little bell above the door tinkled and you smiled when your favourite little customer came in with his mom all wrapped up in his little red scarf with his matching hat.

“Hi, Miss Y/N!” he waved, his stutter was getting better.

“Hey, Jack,” you smiled, “are you here to read to Henry?” you asked, when the little boy nodded, you gestured towards the back of the shop, “I think he’s in his bed but you can just go and wake him up. He’s being very lazy today.”

Jack giggled as he dragged his mom towards the back of the shop.

Another hour passed and the bell rang again, and this time when you looked up, a light flush accompanied your smile. The man’s cheeks and nose were rosy from the cold and the snowflakes were melting in his curls as he stepped into the warmth of your shop. You watched as he pushed a hand through his curls and he wiped his snowy shoes on the welcome mat before he looked up and grinned at you.

“Hey, Carmy. What brings you by?”

“It’s getting hectic in the kitchen, Syd and Richie forced me to take a break,” he laughed before abruptly stopping, “it’s okay that I’m here right?” his blue eyes went wide and you knew he was worried that he was imposing.

You smothered a laugh, “of course. Come and sit down,” you giggled, gesturing for him to pull a comfy chair over.

Carmy smiled as he sat next to you, “I brought you lunch, just um in case you hadn’t eaten yet,” he put a bag on the front desk.

You grinned, “you’re sweet, thank you,” you pulled out a sandwich and some fries. From up close, you could see how tired and stressed he looked. You wondered whether he was taking care of himself, “have you eaten today, Carmy?” at your question, he fell silent and you had your answer, “you’re splitting it with me.”

“No, Y/N, come on,” he started but you interrupted him.

“You’ll notice that I didn’t ask, and I’m not taking no for an answer,” you laughed as you dished out portions of the delicious meal he’d made.

He gave you a sweet appreciative look that you almost missed. You groaned with appreciation as you took a bite out of your half of the sandwich. It was hot and sweet, “that is so damn good.”

Carmy laughed as he flushed and took a bite out of his half, “glad you like it.”

You were about to reply when a little voice from behind you spoke up, “bye, Miss Y/N, see you next week.”

You smiled as you waved at him, “have a good week, Jack,” you glanced over your shoulder as your dog curled up in his bed, “good boy, Henry.”

When you looked back at Carmy, you laughed at his expression, he was understandably confused so you elaborated.”

“I rescued a dog a couple of months ago – before we met – and he was a little nervous around people so I started bringing him here to get used to people. Some of the kids that come in here started reading to him. So, I made a group where my little regulars like Jack come in and read to Henry get more confidence, like if they have a speech impediment,” you flushed as Carmy directed a warm smile at you and you shrugged, fiddling with your fingers, “it’s not a big deal.”

“Hey,” Carmy started softly and you glanced up at him, “it may not be a big deal for you, but for kids like that,” he pointed at the door that Jack had walked out of, “it literally means the world. Kids like that are usually scared to speak, I was, I had a stutter as a kid.”

“Really?” you asked.

Carmy was usually pretty closed off, even though you’d known him for a little while, but sometimes, sometimes he would sit with you and open up just a little. You knew it was difficult for him so you appreciated it.

“Yeah,” he laughed, “I had zero friends,” he flushed as his eyes darted around the shop. His eyes landed on something behind you and his eyes lit up, “you have a guitar?”

You laughed as you grabbed it and handed it over to him, “my dad got it for me, my mom wasn’t too pleased.”

He laughed as he held the guitar, placing his fingers on the fret board and strummed, going bright red when no sound came out. You couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped your lips and you shot him an apologetic look.

“Wow, so you’re not good at everything? That’s humbling and very good to know,” you grinned as he rolled his eyes. You leaned forwards and moved his tattooed fingers to the correct position. His skin was warm and he flushed as you touched him, “okay, now try.”

He tried again and actually managed to make a noise, it was flat but it was better than the one before, “it takes practise.”

“Yeah well, I think it needs tuning,” he joked as he carefully put it in its stand, “this is a real nice place, Y/N,” he looked around with interest, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Thanks, I’m not sure my mom would agree with you though,” he raised an eyebrow as you continued, “my mom wanted me to be a doctor, carry on the family tradition. But one, I am not academically smart enough to be a doctor and two, like if I have a bad day here it means I probably just got a shitty customer. But a bad day as a doctor probably means that you’ve killed someone and I’m just not cut out for that,” you trail off when you notice that his blue eyes never left your face as you talked. You were a rambler and most guys hated it, “I’m sorry, I’m an oversharer.”

You watched Carmy’s eyes widen and he shook his head, “no, Y/N. I don’t mind at all! I like listening to you talk. Does it bother you that I really don’t open up all that much?”

“No,” you smiled, “I don’t mind at all.”

You decided to close the shop early and Carmy offered to walk you home before he headed back to the restaurant. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Carmy glance at you as you huddled into your scarf.

“Y’know instead of cooking together on Friday, why don’t we go out to eat?”

You giggled, your breath coming out in smoke, “are you tired of teaching me how to cook already?” you teased.

He rolled his eyes as he looked at you, “no, smartass. It would be nice to talk y’know? Without all the distractions.”

“Sounds great, Carmy,” you laughed, you knew it wasn’t a date but god did you wish it was.

As you walked up to your apartment, Carmy pulled you into a hug, “I’ll see you real soon, okay?”

“Carmy, we’re neighbours, we see each other all the time.”

He shook his head, “you knew what I meant,” he took your chin before his forefinger and thumb as he planted a kiss on your cheek.

You flushed as you looked at him, “don’t work too hard, Chef.”

Carmy snickered, “never, Y/N.”

[rubyeyes-rubyscales]

"Is something the matter dear..~?"

At the mouth of cave, a creature with the upper half of a gorgeous man with perfect, milky white skin, snowy-colored hair that reached past his midriff, and alluring ruby-red eyes, and the lower half of a serpent with reddish-black scales rested on a large flat rock, basking in the sun.

Hearing the rustling of leaves nearby, he opened his eyes slowly and demurely and looked up, a lazy smile spreading across soft and rosy lips.

"Ah, is my meal here..?" He chuckled low, pulling himself up to coil on the rock, looking down at the little trespasser who was oh-so brave enough to cross into his part of the wilderness.

"Only kidding, please calm yourself." He sighed, lying back down and leaning over the edge of the rock with a look of complete boredom with perhaps a hint of amusement.

"Well? Is there something you need?" He hissed out between sharp fangs, equally sharp eyes narrowing on the cute prey who stepped into his home.

He blinked with confusion at the newcomers answer, amusement becoming more prominent in those usually dull ruby eyes.

"You want to know about me? Well, I suppose I'll indulge since you seem to have just.. no idea of this place.."

He smiled as though he were planning some kind of plot in the back of his mind.

"My name is Shibusawa Tatsuhiko, darling. I protect all who live in my territory, which is where you are right now. I am.. What you could call a protector. I keep the humans away. Did that satisfy your curiosity?"

Okay so, Shibusawa in @tainted-mutt 's AU is a Naga and somewhat protects the hybrids who stumble upon him. He's a bit shifty, but it's from many years of being isolated and far from any social interactions. His snake half is a sort of russet color with lighter brownish-red belly scales.

In this AU he's around twenty-four, so he's aged down. He's also venomous, just to make this a bit more fun. He genuinely doesn't understand social cues so if anyone tries flirting with him, have fun because he is oblivious!

He's honestly sort of creepy in an unsettling way, which makes sense since snakes are predators. He sees smaller hybrids as "prey" but means in a slightly endearing way. He doesn't eat other hybrids. Not often, at least.

Links:

MORE TO BE ADDED

Angst Posts:

Lore Posts:

Tags:

The snake speaks.. 🐍 (IC posts and interactions)

The soul sends a sign 💀 (OOC posts)

Hello little prey~ 🐭 (Answering anons)

A precious human.. ❤ (Interactions with @mythical-enthusiast )

MORE TO BE ADDED

OOC blog is @asillyprettything hope you like this silly

[emperorpearl-ofthefarmlands]

Intro post !!

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Roleplay blog of e1!Pearl, my main is @justalilpearlie

He/Xe ooc, you can just call me Pearl. I speak esp/eng

This acc will use my own ships and headcanons

Feel free to interact and send asks! Even if you dont have a rp account! You can just sign off or rp as yourself instead of an emperor, just have fun!

I'll play Pearl however I deem in-character, if you have a problem with it you can block me, this is my take on the character, trying to stay as canon as I posibly can.

No nsfw, I'm a minor. I use slurs freely and untagged, tho they're all ones I can reclaim, such as the t slur, f slur and r slur.

☀️🌾🌻🌾☀️🌾🌻🌾☀️🌾🌻🌾☀️🌾🌻🌾☀️

Roleplay info:

She/He/Light/Sun pronouns

Terms Queen & Emperor good!! King & Empress are- not preferred but alright.

Verinix Gendervoid Bigender

Queer/mlm

Pearl is Sausage, Fwhip and Gem's cousin, they grew up together.

Pearl sees Pixl as a father figure of sorts.

Avian with golden wings and pointy ears.

Does not remember any other SMP (might make another rp acc for life series)

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Ships I will and wont do:

Majormoon ✔️✔️✔️✔️✔️ (main ship)(mlm)

Flower husbands ❌️❌️❌️❌️❌️ (DNI)

Any WRA ship (aka gempearl, sausage x fwhip, pearl x sausage, etc) ❌️❌️❌️❌️❌️ (dni + theyre family in this acc)

Jausage ✔️

Fwhimmy ✔️

Fwhip x Pixl ❌️

Sausage x Pixl ❌️

Joey x Xornoth ✔️

Guns n Roses (fwhip x katherine) ✔️

Literally any other ship is okay as long as its legal and yknow not related ✔️✔️

☀️🌾🌻🌾☀️🌾🌻🌾☀️🌾🌻🌾☀️🌾🌻🌾☀️

#Gilded Helianthia - All posts

#awnsering to the people - Asks tag

#talking to the people - Text posts

#a view of the farmlands - Picture posts

#[title][characters name] - Talking about/Sent by another ruler

#snowy crops - Empires 1 Pearl x Scott

#majormoon - Main Pearl x Scott tag

#my dearest scottsy - about the Elven King

#wither rose alliance - Pearl, Sausage, Gem and Fwhip

#my dearest cousins - about Gem and/or Sausage and/or Fwhip

#my dearest father - about Pixlriffs

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Thats all for today!! Thank you, might update ^^

[sunyatas]

Hiya new followers and old!

Don't forget to fill out my interest tracker so I can yeet muses at you ❄

[s1llyalabaster]

Falling in love at the wrong time - gepard

Where the captain of the silvermane guards catches feelings for you, but unfortunately can't pursue that love in the end... ~1.2k words, mutual pining ! hurt/comfort-ish but more angst ? ! reader has siblings and low-ish self esteem (apologies for the plot holes and ooc! i couldnt really refer to a wiki)

They say a shield blocks all harm in sight.

But why did they hurt him? 

Why did you leave him? 

The newly-appointed captain stood in the billowing winds, vision nearly blinded by the blizzard. Horns blared in victory, yet, it felt ironic. It felt like a total loss to him, his comrades laid dead on the snowy grounds, ruby blood staining the chastity of the pure, white snow. He felt disappointed in himself for not preventing the inevitable deaths from happening. Gepard’s chest was still heaving from the intense fight. He paced around the battlefield, checking the premises for any surviving Silvermane Guards. He’d only find a few, who stood against the harsh winds of Jarilo VI.

Once Gepard returned to the city of Belobog, the first person that he sought for wasn’t Cocolia Rand, the Supreme Guardian (at that time, at least). Instead, the one that he yearned to see was you. You were the strategist for the Silvermane Guards, handling and distributing supplies for wars, planning out war tactics with your team. He had admired you when he was but a humble soldier.

Of course, Gepard had to finish his duties first, so he headed to Qlipoth Fort to drop off some reports on the number of fatalities and such. Once he entered, he was greeted by the warmth of the heater and the serious atmosphere of the office. 

“Sit, Landau,” Cocolia commanded. 

Gathered at the Supreme Guardian’s desk were a quartet: Gepard, Cocolia, her daughter Bronya, and you. His eyes widened at the sight of you. You looked more tired than ever, dark circles lining the underside of your eyes, your eyes were near bloodshot, veins popping out of your forehead, hair more tousled than he’s ever seen it. 

“...?” 

“I have decided to resign as the strategist for the Silvermane Guards, respected individuals of Belobog. I apologise for any troubles I have brought to you all by making this decision, and I’m especially sorry to you, Gepard.” 

You turned to him, tears brimming your eyes, as you subtly lifted your head up and blinked, trying to hide your emotions behind the stone cold walls of the Fort. 

“I’m so sorry, but you’ll have to work alone for now. I’m sure I’ll be easy to replace,” you smiled, bitter from the depths of your heart from the thought that the one watching Gepard and the others fight on from the sidelines would no longer be you. 

“Your resignation will be processed by the end of the month, for the remaining of the time, please continue to serve Belobog to the best of your ability.”

“Dismissed.” 

The final words of Cocolia ricocheted off the walls. The two of you shuffled out the office and out to the city. The two of you didn’t speak a word to each other, you could only hear the clinking of Gepard’s armour, and the soft sniffles from you as you soon realised that tears were falling down onto the snow. 

“Look at me.” 

“I’m sorry, I was too-”

You sank to the ground in distress, Gepard following suit. He was so curious, curious about why you had to resign, curious about how your face would look when you were crying (though he’d die instead of admitting it). Seeing your weeping form only made him want to protect you more, to hold you in his muscular arms, and to stroke your hair to ease your sorrows. His heart sped up as he resisted the impulse to do just that. But alas, even the strongest soldier messes up sometimes. 

“Gepard?!”

“Let’s just…stay like this. I know both of us need it. And I know that I need you, no matter in war, or in life.”

You softly nodded. Being a strategist meant that you had to be proficient in thinking logically and emotionally to understand…well, war. And you were pretty sure that the feelings you had towards him were mutual. When Gepard pulled away, you couldn’t really understand what was going through his mind. Did he even realise that he subconsciously confessed to you? Was he regretting what he said? Was he still lost in his own thoughts?

You’d guess he soon realised what he said, because he shot up from the ground, and shook his head repeatedly like a Plains Bear Cub plopping out of the snow. 

“I didn’t mean it like that!” He blurted. 

You clasped his gloved hand into yours, feeling Gepard's (significantly larger) hand encapsulate yours. You wanted to make it clear to him that being a strategist was too mentally taxing for you, and how you had planned to move back to the Underworld to support your siblings. But yet, no words dared to form at the tip of your tongue. Now that it was basically confirmed that Gepard has feelings for you, you didn’t want to break it to him. There was no way he would throw away his job just to accompany someone like you. You were sure that Cocolia could find a new strategist as fast as she could snap her fingers. 

“I…I’m moving, Gepard. I know that we both have feelings for each other, but I simply won’t let you leave so many opportunities behind just to join me in the Underworld. You have Serval and Lynx to take care of, and I have my own siblings too.” 

“I understand. But…” 

“There’s no excuse for you to come with me. There are so many people waiting to take my spot, and I’m sure that they’ll be ever more capable than I. So, my love, just wait. Maybe on another snowy day, we’ll meet on the battlefield, but perhaps in a war between the overworld and the underworld. You know how things are these days.” 

“I can’t possibly have your blood on my hands!” Gepard couldn’t believe it. Asides from the silly crushes from the military academies he’d attended, you were his first love. You were the one who agreed to plant flowers with him, or teach him how to sing without going off-key. But now? You’re leaving. And worse? You could be fighting against him one day. You were sure to be on the frontlines because of the lack of personnel in the underworld. With little to no actual fighting experience you had, you were basically dead before the battle even started. 

Perhaps you were right. On another day, where winds billowed the same way they did months ago, a discordance of gunshots and cannons played as gunpowder and snow blinded Gepard again. His eyes were locking on to every person from the underworld, but his main target was his lover. He couldn’t find you. You were gone, lost to the blizzard. 

Gepard’s ears drowned out the loud “boom”s and “bang”s of the battlefield, he was only focused on finding you. He needed to see you, he needed to see the hands that he once held, or the frame of yours that he once embraced. 

“Captain! Isn’t that…” One of the guards bellowed. 

Gepard knew you’d die at the hands of his own soldiers. 

He just didn’t expect you to have a small smile on your face as you laid, blood soaking the snow. 

Little did he know, your last thought as you laid dying was him. 

[mariaurore]

(OOC) Because I still have interests in making Mari her restaurant, I've been looking into what goes into it a bit.

When I took Hitsu, Mari & Takashi to Chez Llama a couple nights ago, I took several screenshots for later as well as taking some mental notes.

Here's the first and second floor inside. I have it set to walls are half up- so when I show screenshots later in this post with walls fully up, it's going to look quite different.

Here- it looks rather okay and normal. The second floor is nothing more than a bathroom and a hallway/railing overseeing the first floor. And then it leads out to this:

This is also very simple, but there's nothing here.

I suppose you can add to it, if you wish. But as I placed my Chez Llama on a snowy plot- that remains snowy throughout the year, that would not be ideal.

Here are two more shots with the walls completely up. See how it looks so much more different? How it looks almost claustrophobic?

But after reading a thread on Reddit I'm noticing many things;

There's only tables for 12 people. There's 1 chef station. There's 2 ovens. There's 1 check-in station. There's 3 bars- 1 large, 2 small. There's a lot of seating area and I have no idea what all of that is for. I guess that's something I need to look into.

The bathroom upstairs, is designated male/female and is two stalls each.

The reason I feel it's claustrophobic is probably to reduce serving time. The closer the chef station is to the tables, the faster the dishes arrive to the table.

These are just some of the things I wanted to point out, that for myself I feel are more important and should get priority when building a restaurant in the Sims 4.

For example- in that thread, having tables for 50 customers and only having 1 or 2 chef's stations would cause a long waiting period to receive food to your table. Or having the chef stations be way in the back, behind clutter and obstacles. Or both.

I'm not sure yet how you set up hiring staff, how many of ___ staff you can hire, what hours and days of operation, putting together a menu, etc. That's more research I need to do 😅

I'll get there eventually. This is a work in progress and I want to do it right.

Edit: After doing a bit more research I learned you can have up to 30 options in each menu section; Drinks, Appetizer, Main Course, Dessert.

You can also pick what outfits the staff wears, as well as the dress code to your restaurant.

You start out only able to hire 1 of each staff: Host, Waiter, Chef. But that will increase to 2 Chefs and 3 Waiters. I believe that increases even further with Perk Points, to an additional +1 Chef, and +2 Waiters.

Speaking of Perk Points, apparently these things can purchase a lot benefits, so you need to be involved with your restaurant a lot to earn them.

For me, I feel this is where my "Hours of Operation" come in. I could "go to work" when Hitsu is at work and Takashi is at school, and "close up" when Takashi gets home from school.

Things such as "Welcome" customers in to your restaurant will earn you Perk Points. There's a whole wheel for it when you click on a table. Setting a "Recommended Dish" is also one.

There's no real "Set Hours" option, just an Open/Close button.

This is barely scratching the surface, there's so much more and if you're interested like I am it's probably a good idea to go hunt down a Youtube video or something like I did. But I wanted to put some of it here in this post, lol.

I think the rest I'll try to figure out on my own as I go. (Don't be surprised if you see some in future posts! 😄🙃)

[maskedmuses]

So I was working on my new blog when a storm came in, and since I didn't want to lose my work, I decided to work more on a commission. Now, due to the nature of the question, I needed to put it here, since I need a good population answer

Answer this for me, please and thank you!

[maskedsins]

NSFW Headcanons || Always accepting

@valorxdrive​ asked: 💭 - Which sexual desire are they too embarrassed about to tell anyone? And in which situation would it be obvious enough to show?, ❤ : Where on their body is your muse most sensitive?, ∀ : Your muse’s favorite position? (For Koya n' Aqua!)

Which sexual desire are they too embarrassed about to tell anyone? And in which situation would it be obvious enough to show?

In most cases, it’s all sexual desires for Aqua. She has to remain the prim and proper one to be a Master and follow in Eraqus’ footsteps, so seeming standoffish when it comes to such things is mostly how she buries any and all needs away. However, she has noticed that whenever it is dark out, she tends to feel more frisky, and it is due to the prolonged exposure in the world of darkness that let such mental chains loosen. If she starts to let out some of the darkness within her too, a partner can easily see her desires for something beyond kisses arise. 

Where on their body is your muse most sensitive?

This is actually her stomach! It is a sensitive area near the core of her body and can mean her partner can go in any direction, which is an effective tease. It also overall makes her feel both safe and tense when her stomach is touched, so she only reveals it whenever she feels safe around someone. 

Your muse’s favorite position?

Being rather vanilla, she actually prefers missionary, so she can observe her partner and adjust some. She does tend to be a power bottom from time to time, but will generally keep things very unoriginal in the bedroom unless her lover requests more. She will try anything, but won’t repeat it if she doesn’t enjoy it.