#i dont know how else to tag this. its a very specific one.
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chayos-stim · 1 year ago
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Road sign making ⚠️ @the.sign.guy on tiktok
Free to use!
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rosswood · 7 days ago
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how many cycles of trauma and suffering does it take to get to the center of a silly little anvil guy (the answer might surprise you)
#generation loss#genloss#gl vinny#vinesauce#zarted#id in the alt text#sure ill maintag this cause its laser focused on This Guy in particular#i didnt take great pains or in fact any pains to correlate how the real guy looked at whatever age to this here timeline#i just vaguely remembered davys grey vinny and worked backwards from there#+ obvs took cues from some of his more recognizable looks#a nod to his iconic question block cap and the vinesauce hoodie in the wardrobe progression#the progression of costuming is based on the notion that showfall slots its characters into archetypes#and as archetypes theyve all got highly recognizable Looks#so as one person evolves into that archetype their personal style gets whittled away and replaced with a recognizable Default Wardrobe#so at first he gets tagged with the Color Green. then layering. then the hat. and so on#yes ive overthought a very specific type of progression that is in all likelihood not anything that actually happened in canon#but we dont have evidence it DIDNT happen so you know#im just enamored w the idea of gl vinny being drenched in apathy because hes been there so long#everyone else on the carousel is in their 20s and ranboo is 19. and vinny is 38#i have to imagine hes Been There A While#and hes so rotted through from desensitization that he cannot bring himself to care anymore#and underneath that i suspect theres an undercurrent of 'i should shield these people who are so much younger'#but in the end youre trapped and theyre trapped and the suffering is so important to the people who have trapped you#and how much can you shield them from really?#dont get obsessed with the silly little anvil guy from generation loss worst mistake of my life
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passerinesoncaffeine · 5 days ago
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the irony of one the first main things established about omori as a character is that he's known for his great memory as if he hasn't lost the entire fucking plot repeatedly for years.
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like he has a great memory!! if you don't take into account He's Actually The God Of Repression.
#replaying the game aggaaaiinnnn#now with full appreciation for foreshadowingggg#omori#omori spoilers#raven rambles#.....should probably have like a tag specifically for playing incase people wanna block it lmfao#raven plays omori#fr though he has a great memory until he forgets minor details like he was designed to help sunny forget everything#goddddddd it kinda makes you wonder though how much of it he's aware of#it's implied he still remembers basil after deep well. but I dont know if he's aware he's actively causing everyone else's#memory of him to disappear. like yeah yeah deep well is designed to make him forget too. he set himself up#to make sure sunny never reached blackspace. the loop resets if they fail. if they die#but the whole branch coral dialogue makes it seem like yes. omori is still very aware of basil's existence.#I have a lot of thoughts on deep well.#and especially omori not really realizing he's the one sending basil to blackspace because in past loops it was stranger who confronted him#his guilt of leaving basil is the one thing still tying sunny to the real world. mari is dead. he can't do anything about that except forge#basil is still alive.#as long as he remembers that basil exists#he will keep unknowingly dragging himself back to blackspace. blackspace would stay hidden if stranger wasnt haunting him lmao#he starts the loop by sending him there and then follows through on it by searching for him because he's not yet aware its his own fault#idk it's. aaaaaaaaaaaa#the hug in the true ending is everything to meeeeeee#I have a lot of thoughts about blackspace too but not right nowww thats an essay for much laterrrrr#there's just something about the “deity forgets theyre a deity and rediscovers it later and denies it and forgets again” that kills me#ESPECIALLY WITH THE FUCKING TIME LOOP#and then there's the route additions. he can accept it but he'll try to fight sunny to end it one final time#looooookkkk I'm veryyyy norMALLL ABOUT THIS GAAAAME#hylia and omori remind me of each other in their sort of ignorance of their own power. hylia being the reincarnations of zelda#see it all loops back to just Tropes I Fucking Love#there's a pattern here. do you see the pattern?
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triglycercule · 2 months ago
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give me more horrorkiller content i say as i proceed to post solely about full mtt/mttpoly. i cant I CANT i cant just SOLELY post about one of the duos...... i cant JUST post about 2/3 of them it upsets me. everything MUST be in a trio of else i merge into my bed and rip my skin off when i try to get up
#it physically upsets me when i make 2/3 mtt content#i literally feel EMPTY like.... THIS IS NOT COMPLETE!!!! THEYRE NOT COMPLETE!!!! I NEED THE THIRD OF THE SET OF THREE DOLLS!!!!!!#maybe its just because i have a tendency to want completed things. royale high back in the day was terrible for me the collector#me at miniso opening blindboxes until i get the very specific 3 that represent the mtt idc how much it costs#i just choked on spit while typing this thats how i know that mtt content without the third is a curse#even if i did make just solely a horrorkiller post id just bring dust up in tags 😭😭😭 it would just end up being mtt poly in the end anyways#horrordust but i physically cant resist the urge to type out killer in tags#the dynamic just doesnt feel complete and im being so fucking serious about this#there is something MISSING from horrordust. horrorkiller. kist. something very wrong missing#the ship hits because its mtt but it doesnt feel SATISFYING without all three#i just cant explain it but there is an inexplicable whole in my soul that cannot be filled unless its with full trio#like just..... theres an aspect to the perfect group that each of the trio satisfies#this is absolutely an old thought but one that will never leave my mind#when youve become so inlove with the mtt that you simply like the concept of three now on its own and cant fathom one or god forbid TWO#3 is my favorite number now..... bc of mtt....... ermmmm...........#orange is my favorite BUT like.... red blue and purple as a group are tied for it in my heart#a lot of my favorite things have shifted because of the mtt#so when you (me) ask me to do anything BUT in threes i ask you......................... do you want me to kill mysel#i pat my dog 3 times on the head to signal im done petting her#ive trained my hands to be able to shuffle between ✌️🤘🤙 on instinct now. its routine#god i make everything about the mtt its not even funny. only true mtt fans have made a song cover singing as them#i demoted myself to number 3 fan in my bio during my little mental break i had a couple days ago#but 3 is still high for the sheer amount of mtt fans that they are so i really dont care..... someone else can have spot 1 and 2 but 3#tricule rant
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waywardsalt · 1 year ago
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oh yeah i’ve got a bunch of loz aus that i haven’t really talked about. a few of them are listed and slightly explained in this poll and explanation reblog but i haven’t gone out of my way to actually list the aus i have and really explain them. so that’s what this post is for. here are some... decently simple explanations of my major aus and what they're generally about
i have two kinds of aus: original aus (loz aus that are set in their own kinds of worlds with their own stories and twists on character roles) and then crossover aus (we all know how this works i just mash loz and a thing i like together)
original aus: (many currently dont have actual titles, so the titles will often just be concept shorthand)
in the court of the crimson king/crimson king au: probably the most developed and closest to being written out. it's got one of the longer premises; set in a industrial-esque hyrule city, following linebeck as the main character, as the adoptive older brother of link and aryll, living with them and their grandmother as the only one able to reliably make money to pay for rent and food, leaving every other week to do jobs, but he moonlights as the 'demon of the gray moon', a masked persona he'd created as a child that had long since become a city-wide urban legend, anonymously taking unsavory jobs from whomever can contact him and offer pay, often working directly for bellum, a childhood friend, the one who enabled and trained him to become the demon, and one of five anonymous leaders of the city. linebeck effectively lives a double life, and tries to stay out of too much trouble to avoid drawing attention to himself or making his adoptive family worry, but he gets dragged into more and more danger as bellum becomes curious about the identities of the city's other leaders, and linebeck falls in love with a man named ganondorf, suspected to be one of those other city leaders. ive got a few posts related to it already: this one being another vague concept descriptor, this one being an actual scene i have written out.
'gimmick' au: i cannot explain the gimmick without spoiling the au. put simply, in this au, hyrule as a whole has been at war for ten years, every race and kingdom taking sides in a conflict that seems to be going nowhere. link joined the hylian army young, and has made his way up the ranks to become trusted by queen zelda herself, and things in the war take an interesting turn as he and zelda discover a new faction, unaligned with any particular kingdom and with unknown motives, and zelda decides to set out to the different parts of hyrule, link and a chosen group of trusted allies in tow, intending to try negotiation one more time before things take a turn for the worse.
sci-fi/space au: the fun one that probably would need to be done in a visual medium. it takes place in a solar system of a few planets, link growing up on the planet hyrule and occasionally traveling to the others as a knight specializing in investigating and taking down dangerous bounty hunters, working for zelda as a friend. he and zelda uncover a plot by the yiga clan to accumulate a number of highly dangerous research and weapons held by each species as they aim to resurrect a demon to wreck havoc on the solar system- the b plot being about the top bounty hunters in the solar system screwing around, eventually colliding with link and zelda's a plot as it begins to involve them.
murder mystery(?) au: one of the older ones, maybe one of the oldest that i still stick with. this might actually be one of the first ones i tried writing. the plot begins when zelda returns to hyrule city years after her father- the former mayor- was murdered, finding that he has been replaced by ganondorf and that while things seem fine enough on the surface, random and organized crime run the show, and she begins a private detective agency as 'sheik', a masked young man, and with the help of impa, and old friend and confidant, she moonlights as sheik and uses her daytime identity as zelda to help chip away at some of the city's biggest problems and finds herself drawn into a long string of murders that appear to be anything but random violence.
ruined hyrule 1: i have two au’s with the premise of hyrule being ruined. neither of them have more specific names yet. this one begins with the majority of greater hyrule's population having long since locked themselves in hyrule castle town in order to escape the increasingly dangerous wildlife. zelda, a young girl at the beginning, becomes curious about what lies beyond the city walls, and makes friends with many other children within this sheltered hyrule, and as they grow up together, aim to eventually venture out into the wilderness to see what may have caused the outside world to become so incredibly hostile.
ruined hyrule 2: the other ruined hyrule. set in a devastated hyrule, roughly ten years after the royal family was killed, link failing to save them or hyrule in the time since. he now resolves to set out and indiscriminately destroy every demon that plagues the ruined hyrule, meeting and bringing along various allies, each of which has been uniquely affected by and have different lived in this altered, dangerous shell of hyrule.
modern (school): i also have two modern aus. this one isn’t plot driven, just a concept i have, would work best as little vignettes or something. essentially just the idea of a group of loz characters hanging out together in a modern high school (or college?) setting.
modern: this is the one with an actual plot. follows the general idea of zelda characters living in a modern world only for the typical legends to begin resurfacing and heralding dark events. plot specifics are murky, but that's the general idea.
dark mage: this is the au that where the seas meet the sands takes place in. basically just ganondorf x linebeck shenanigans in this alternate hyrule while actual plot sneaks up on them. named 'dark mage' mostly because the initial idea behind this au was that linebeck would learn magic.
horror au: doesn't have the best name, and it's ended up just being a personal sandbox for me. constantly changing, with the cast and setting often altering if i find that something isn't working or sticking. it's an au i've considered (and even briefly tried) writing in the past, but it's still too fluid, and writing horror effectively is difficult. it's a fun au, though.
mecha au: spawned because i watched neon genesis evangelion. a lot of this au's basic concepts can be found here: x but the short version is that hyrule is being besiged by massive monsters, but each race has created their own mechs to combat them. link is just a farmer who happens to have a strange knack for being a mech user, so is brought in by zelda as a gamble to bolster their chances, and he is tasked with working with a new and less-than-trustworthy crew to help fight those monsters.
'amnesia link' au: an au that sprang up in about a day and hasn't gotten too far since. basic premise being that three years prior to the story, link and a group of allies has faced off against ganondorf and, despite their best efforts, lost, with link being presumed dead by their enemies. now, link has woken up from his coma, his memories gone and hyrule taken over, and, with guidance, must once again travel across hyrule, aiming to rediscover his allies and try to face ganondorf once more.
A quick list of crossovers: I won't explain these in length, since they can range from having their own plot to just being a fun mental concept. So, the things I have made crossover aus with are:
Warrior Cats
Batman
Jojo's Bizarre Adventure
Persona 5
Pokemon
(there are other, smaller ones, these are just the ones i consistently pay attention to)
So! These are the majority of my legend of zelda aus, some of which I may write, some of which just exist in my mind for fun, all of which I wouldn't mind talking more about if anyone is curious!
#i had to find an actual list i made to remember most of these tbh#salty talks#salty's loz aus#lmk if any of the colored text on here is hard to read i can change it#for some of the duplicate name aus the colors help me remember which is which but ill change it if it makes it hard to read#this took absolute ages to finish partially bc i dont have much physical evidence of these aus. they live in my mind and my mind only#my favorite little tidbit is that in the space au linebeck is a bounty hunter known for being a really skilled sniper#and i did not. in fact. be inspired by sniper tf2. this au predates my knowing about tf2. space au linebeck is inspired by fuckin#ttgl yoko littner and sao (gags) sinon. this will always be funny to me. space au linebeck is probably one of my favorite au linebecks#fun fact also. counting the crossover aus linebeck plays an antagonistic role at some point in 10 of these aus#also anyways worth reminding that a lot of this shit isnt actually very developed. the murder mystery au does not have a lot of actual plot#most of the developed plot stuff in these aus tends to be directly connected to linebecks role in the story bc a lot of these aus happen to#exist bc one day i was like hm what if linebeck was in (hyperspecific situation that led to the creation of one of these aus)#gimmick au is a really good example of how a linebeck in xyz situation thought can spawn a huge fucking story#but i cant get too specific abt that without spoiling the fucking gimmick and ive already said too much#'dark mage' au is also called that bc i think it was REALLY inspired by me thinking abt linebeck in the fe awakening male dark mage outfit#this has been sitting in my drafts for. so long. and then in two days i slammed all of those out and bam. here we are#the crossover aus list is also a list of 'media that also gave me brainworms and therefore got the honor of meshing with the Big Interest'#im not even a big time batman fan i just saw the 2022 movie and scrolled through an entire blog dedicated to harvey dent#i know so fucking much about harvey dent. why is dc so fucking bad about him#anyways welcome to the bottom of the tags. hope you enjoyed your stay. these r my weird loz aus#post-ph isnt here cuz i dont consider it an au. its something else between ‘au’ and ‘speculative canon’
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variousqueerthings · 1 year ago
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havin some overall Thots about ted lasso, but may wait until the finale next week to fully get them out there. nothing that i haven't seen being said about this season, which is that the pacing is very odd, and i remember being surprised way back when it was announced that it was going to be three seasons and not four. i do not fully believe that it was intended to be three in the way the creators have said. feels more like something out of necessity, than the best way to tell the story, which, i wouldn't have anything against that if that was the case, i fucking love the sense8 final movie for existing, although i know/one can see that it had to tie some very fast knots and drop a bunch of potential storylines -- this final season feels similar. id prefer a rushed ending to no ending at all, if that's the way the tv-landscape looks (and these days it really does look like that as we know).
i can see how they've gotten to the conclusions of multiple of the storylines, but the methods used to get there have been uneven. but that is interesting, may wanna poke at it some more after the final episode. overall this has been a pleasant journey to go on though. i feel very warmly about these characters and the ethos of the show.
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andromedasummer · 2 years ago
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every now and then i remember im somewhere on the aroace spectrum and i just kinda stop in my tracks and go 'huh!' and try not to sit on it for very long
#i dont really? get crushes? ive never fallen in love#ive defo felt attraction/infatuation#but the idea of living in a space with someone else and being romantic with them.... it would have to be a very specific kind of person.#to the point where i often feel its unlikely i would find someone like yhat#i dont know if its also because of my autism because thats always made sharing spaces with people hell for me#i dont go on holidays with my family anymore because they make me miserable#havent for 6 or 7 years now#i was surprised by how easy it was to coexist with my roommates on the greek/italy trip i went on when i was 17#but i suspect that was because i'd known and been close friends with one of the girls for 5 years#and i suspect both are also on the spectrum. at the very least they have some autistic traits that dont quantify a diagnosis#but made coexisting in the same space without encroaching on one another very easy#as for sex im just neutral on that#dont care much either way#so i guess this would make me demi? if i were to be specific#but that feels exhausting to have to come out as and explain over and over so i dont#which is why i just call myself bi because that fits#im bi and im demi#this was brought on by going through the trending aroace tag and being like ''wow i relate to everything here a bit. Too much''#as someone who was on tumblr during 2017-2019 i saw the worst of the exclusionist community and the fake aroace blogs made for mockery#i'd say thats a large reason i try not to dwell on it#all of that has just made me so uncomfortable to think on/about my sexuality
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prettyboykatsuki · 2 years ago
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HOW TO BE A DOG. | S. GOJO
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⊹ general tags ; fem + afab!reader, reader presents femininely and has some specific character traits (i.e. personality traits, nothing physical), reader is shorter / smaller than gojo but nothing specified, reader is a teacher, gojo carries reader at some point (but he is canonly able to do very insane things physically so)
⊹ content warnings ; dead dove. do not eat, yandere gojo satoru, manipulation, stalking, obsessive behavior, delusional behavior, workplace harassment (not from gojo), victim blaming, canon typical violence, graphic depictions of murder, minor character death, excessive religious imagery, coercion, gaslighting, abuse of power, something akin to stockholm syndrome, graphic depiction of noncon / sexual content, forced intimacy, fingering, hickies / bruises, begging, edging, loss of virginity, size kink, 18+.
all sexual content present in part two.
⊹ wc ; 17.3k / 36.1k
link to extended authors note | ao3 | how to be a dog, by andrew kane.
LINK TO PART TWO
⊹ a/n ; well. its here. i wont ramble too much but i hope you enjoy and if you dont...well don't tell me. thank you to ame for your endless patience. likes and reblogs mean the world. the title is inspired by the poem linked.
⊹ synopsis ; with six eyes to see it becomes clear, you are being watched.
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“Of course you must learn to love, to love always and love entirely and to be wounded by nothing so much as the violence of your own love.” - andrew kane, how to be a dog.
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⊹ PART ONE : A CHILD BORN IN WINTER MUST NOT LONG FOR SPRING.
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There’s a dog living outside of Gojo’s apartment. It’s a collarless, lonely thing. Clever, too. 
Though, Gojo doesn’t know much about its life before it started hanging around the area, he gets glances on occasion. It’s not emaciated and it doesn’t look hungry, but it’s roughened up with matted fur and a healed tear in one ear. 
More importantly, it doesn’t bother anybody in the neighborhood. Despite its outward appearance and hostility when approached, its aggression won’t go farther than a warning bark or growl. Most of the adults living in the building know better than to try, but some of the kids living upstairs desperately attempt to befriend it. Of course they fail, and Gojo thinks that that poor thing is growing apathetic to the touches of sticky hands. 
The whole building is pretty fond of it, surprisingly. Gojo lives in a upend complex in a metropolitan part of Tokyo and the people here can be snobbish. So it comes as a shock that this dog wasn’t shooed away months ago. 
Everyones sort of agreed to take care of it. There’s a food and water bowl outside of the security office - and just last week a sign was implemented of Do’s and Don’ts for what food scraps can be left. There’s a donation box to get some proper shots and paperwork - since it looks like the building's doorman has agreed to take it in if everyone chips in for the expenses.
(Gojo suspects this has something to do with those very kids, devastated by the thought of it being gone.)
Warm welcomes from the residents aside, Gojo hasn’t seen it act friendly before. He wonders about that.  It seems hesitant to trust anyone and he’s sure there's a good reason. It’s just that it's clever. To be a stray in this area of Tokyo and be so calm is an impressive feat, so he thinks it probably has some grasp of his own situation. If it acted cuter, it could get a warm house and family too. Though the whole aloof and distant thing does the job just fine, Gojo can’t help but wonder what such a clever creature is doing, turning away from living lavishly. 
Much like everyone else, Gojo’s contributions have come in the form of food scraps and some donation money to work towards the 5,000 yen goal. On the occasion their paths cross, Gojo sits near it. Sometimes, they share a moment of silence and Gojo talks just to see if it’ll ignore him. It seems like it’s listening. It always makes a grunt of dismissal when Gojo turns to leave and he’s started to count that as a little victory. 
Gojo isn’t intrigued by anything as much as that dog. At least not lately. It’s damn near impossible to seriously pique his interest and yet that clever fellow is one of the few things he stops to ponder at. 
Today, Gojo is intrigued by the dog that lives on the street of his apartment and the strange woman who’s petting it like some sort of domesticated baby.
He’s very, very intrigued by that. 
The rain comes down in heavy sheets. It’s a Wednesday, and he has no classes to teach so he’s home and preparing to run errands. He’s going about his day as usual, basically. When Gojo isn’t swamped with a mission or the reformation of Jujutsu Society - he likes to play the part of the average man. 
The plan for today was to take his unused car out of the lot so he could get some dry-cleaning done, go buy a new pair of sunglasses because his old ones are scratched, and go do some shopping. He needs to buy groceries again ( an uncommon occurrence) so that one's on the list too. 
He’s dressed down. A black windbreaker is hanging over his shoulders, tight gray shirt and some comfortable jeans. He’s got on his errand shoes, a nice pair of sneakers and his keys are hanging from a loop in his belt. His hair is styled down and he’s got on his glasses instead of his typical mask.
He has a gameplan, a fully fleshed out expectation of how today will go, and it’s derailed by a woman he’s never seen before. He’s drawn to you so naturally it’s baffling. 
You’re crouched just in front of the security office. Dressed in a loose skirt and long sleeves, looking down by the local neighborhood stray. For the first few seconds, he just lingers on in utter awe. You’re carrying a comically cute umbrella, clear with flowers and a pink edge. He kind of thinks you look like a peony. 
He approaches slowly, quietly. 
When he finally gets close enough to really see, he can hardly believe his eyes. That old, menacing mutt is happily getting his chin scratched by you. 
“Oh, uhm. Hello?” 
The sound of your voice startles him out of his trance. Snapping back to reality, he glances down to where you are and realizes he’s towering over you. In an effort to be polite, he steps back and gives you his most disarming smile. 
“Hi. Sorry for the intrusion, I was just,” He glances at the dog who almost looks offended at the interruption “I noticed you were… petting this dog. Guess I was a little surprised.” 
“Surprised?” 
And your surprise surprises him even more. He blinks slowly. 
“Yeah. He’s not aggressive or anything but uh,” Gojo chuckles, concluding you must be a little new “Well, he’s not exactly friendly. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone succeed in well…petting him.” 
You’re taken aback by this information. Yeah, definitely new. 
“Really?” You glance at Gojo before looking back down at it “I just gave him some treats and waited a bit. He’s such a sweetie. Sure you mean this dog?” 
Gojo gets a good laugh out of that. Partially at your cluelessness and partially at your disbelief. He nods, smiling a little. 
“I’m very sure, actually. He must really like you,” He says, hands in his pockets. He bends down to join you, but he’s still a little bigger than you at that height “I guess I can see why. You’re pretty friendly.” 
You peek over at him. You seem a little shy at the compliment. Gojo feels his interest pique a second time today alone. New record. 
“Oh, uh. Thank you. I teach kindergarteners so I sort of have to be.” 
He hums. Reaching his hand towards the dog, who sniffs and cuddles his palm (something it’s never done before) in order to win your favor more. It really is a clever little thing, just like he’d always suspected.
“I’m a teacher too. A highschool teacher, though. No need for me to be friendly, I guess.” 
You laugh at his joke, smile reaching your eyes as you hug your knees to look at him.
“You seem plenty friendly to me.” 
He pretends to think about it. 
“Maybe you have a gift for making people come out of their shell,” He says with sincerity, relishing in the fact he’s finally getting to pet the dog in any capacity “I think this little guy could probably attest to that.”
“And you have a knack for flattery.” You quip. 
The natural chemistry is noticeable enough for it to catch Gojo off-guard. He grins. 
“Hey. I’m not all bad. And what's flattery if I’m being honest right?” 
“Sounds like something a flirt would say,” You tease, airy. He laughs a little. 
“You seem like you’re having fun giving me a hard-time.” He pouts. You giggle. 
“A little,” 
“Jeez. How rude of you…” He waits, prompting your name. You smile. 
You give him your name. You say it soft and easy. He makes sure to return to the favor. 
“And yours?” 
“Gojo Satoru.” 
__
You live up to your first impression in the time that Gojo gets to know you as his neighbor. 
Friendly. The word he’s looking for is friendly. 
There’s other words though. Sometimes meek, typically cheery, oftentimes quiet. You’re quite unassuming, and possibly too gentle when compared to everyone else in the general area. You fit in fine, no worries there. And Gojo knows that for certain because he can’t stop himself from watching over you like a hawk. 
He doesn’t really understand it himself. Gojo gets along with everyone. He’s always been a people person who likes to talk and likes to get to know strangers. There’s nothing that special about your connection in that way. You live next to him, directly across the hall.  You often knock on his door to give him something that you’ve made too much of or ask to borrow some sugar 
And it’s not done with any romantic intent. Gojo is good at reading people. He’s never seen someone so blatantly  romantically uninterested in him. You’re not even conscious of him as a man, cemented to him  by the one time you came to the door dressed in paper-thin PJ’s. He hasn’t recovered from the shock. One of the many times in his life where he was grateful no one could see where he was looking. 
He’s had a few months since your first meeting to get an idea of your personality and what things about you he should keep in mind. You noticed that he’s often not in his house, so you’re relatively aware of your surroundings. You’re often up late because your lights are always on well into the evening. 
(He finds out later you’re usually making lesson plans or little gift bags or planning birthdays. You really love your job, something he can commend while simultaneously  feeling quite jealous about.) 
You favor the lovely spring colors like pink and purple because you have so much of it always on you. You dress brightly in general. And you smile, often, and stumble over yourself trying to be nice to the other tenants. The kids in the building adore you. The sheer amount of propositions you’ve received to be someone's full-time nanny could probably keep you employed for another two decades. 
And you always put your best into everything, no matter what. 
This is probably the aspect Gojo is most fascinated by. It’s not exactly a novel trait. He’s encountered something like it before. One of his most prized students is Maki Zenin. Her whole thing is kicking ass through sheer spite. 
But unlike his students or anyone else he knows - you don’t seem to be motivated by spite or anger or frustration. Even when you are angry or upset - you always force yourself into being more understanding. Into being nice, kind, and still giving it your best if you’ve been shorted somehow. He’s tempted to call you a try-hard. It draws on the line of people pleasing sometimes but it doesn’t matter either way. This is a quality in you Gojo likes all the same. 
He's always been drawn to people who are earnest. His company favors such things. He cherishes Yuuji for such a reason, and can say something similar for Nanami. It’s a refreshing perspective. He’s not a bitter person, but he’s not an earnest one either. So Gojo likes that you’re so properly, gently sincere. 
For the last few months he’s made a real effort to talk to you. So he’s not just the guy next door, but at least an acquaintance and at best a distant friend. On the mornings you both have classes to teach, he walks you to your car and if he wakes up before you - he’ll bring you a cup of coffee or a pastry he knows you enjoy.  
You’ll often do Gojo little favors and he’ll return them - joking to each other about being a good neighbor. An inside joke with each other that Gojo is growing increasingly fond of, all together with leftover cups of coffee and glances that linger too long. Some mornings, he takes out your trash when you’re feeling too tired and you’ll do him the favor of getting the stuff out of his clothes that he doesn’t want to dry-clean. 
It’s these little exchanges that make up the bulk of your interactions. 
He’s even been to your apartment (another reason he’s sure you’re not attracted to him). He went last week to help you cut out little autumn leaves to put on your classroom walls, and you rewarded him with some lemonade. 
He’s still thinking about it days later, how you sit on your legs and the way your cardigan hangs off your shoulder. When you’re focused, you leave your mouth open a bit and poke your tongue through your lips. He’s endeared by it. 
 By you in general.
It’s all boring and mundane, but that’s what makes it. It’s a luxury he rarely affords. Craves, really, which is why he’s starting to go straight home more often than not.
It’s nice that you’re always there. That you’re usually home and when you’re not - Gojo doesn’t have to guess too hard about where you are. It’s so constant. He basks in the feeling of constancy like an expensive silk. 
It’s little luxuries like that, he thinks, that make you so special to Gojo without much effort on your behalf. Being up at the top means he is always fascinated by the place closest to the ground. 
What’s heaven to a man born there?
__ 
In your fourth official month of residence, the neighborhood dog finally gets adopted. 
He’s not there for the big reveal. He hears it from you while he’s on a mission, through a text message and a photo. He acquired your number early on, but you’ve only started doing these text exchanges recently. Reason being Gojo’s had an unusual amount of cases that need his attention and you’ve been very aware of his absence.  
(The first time you texted Gojo after 3 days on the other side of the country, he was scarily happy. After all, most times when he leaves - people are expecting his return.  There’s an assurance that he will return alive, that he has to. It’s not often people worry.
It was another thing he learns about himself through you. Being fussed about is refreshing.) 
Currently, he’s all the way down in Nagasaki. He’s been investigating what the local government has described as an “infestation in the water,” leading to poison and all sorts of hallucination. It’s been causing all of the local hospitals to fill up and the news is advising people to distill their water if possible when at home. Make sure to buy bottled, and double check on your children. 
In other words, there’s an unidentified curse wreaking havoc in small towns and rural areas at an unusually fast rate and Gojo has been sent to figure out its origin. What’s really weird is the location. He’s in Nagasaki prefecture, specifically in Hasami - a town in the Higashisonogo district. He really didn’t have much time to do research on the area, save for a few quick google searches and probing questions to his student, the well traveled Yuta Okkutsu who is a hair more familiar with the region than he is. 
But there wasn’t much for him to find. Hasami is known for the porcelain it produces. The population is a little under 15,000 and the weather is nicer in spring than it is in summer where it gets too humid. It’s considered a small town, though that number is relative in consideration, and currently the local officials are sending off reports about the water supply. 
Even when doing deep research using official means, there was nothing that unusual about the place. No major criminal incidents or occult presence or some other thing that would make this occur naturally. Gojo is no stranger to small town violence or bullying and they can often produce the most volatile curses.
But he’s currently on his 3rd day here, where he’s taken up talking with the locals and he can’t find any specific attitude that would foster a special grade. 
It had led him to a conclusion,  but one he was deliberately avoiding. That someone planted the curse here in Nagasaki, or maybe somewhere else. Which really complicates the whole affair, because then this is an investigation and not just a situation of fate. It also means that this curse was likely harvested somewhere and that Gojo can’t be sure it’ll be easy to get rid of. 
Most importantly, all that fanfare means he’ll be home late. 
Given how much he’s longing to see you, it’s the thing he’s been dreading most. 
It’s weird. He’s never dying to see anyone, with the exception of an old friend long gone. But Gojo has been desperate to see you for the few weeks he’s been away from home. 
(He can’t tell if it’s normal to long this much for a person he truthfully doesn’t know that well.) 
But, while he’s away from home, the thoughts of you play on loop in his head. Like white noise, static yet constant -  there, all the same.  As he walks the rainy streets of Hasami, hands in his pockets - he can’t help but wonder when the next time he gets to see you will be
It’s like some sort of miracle (aren’t you always one?) when Gojo hears his phone ring, buzzing against his abdomen. 
He’s drawn back into reality when he feels it. In front of a store that sells handmade plates and glasses, he lets it go for a while. Feels it buzz against his pocket while he settles his thoughts. He examines his surroundings,  notices the cars, and the mother with her daughter across the street and the gray sky - all before he picks it up. Your name flashes him on screen, and something itches deep in his chest.
The clouds open up. And it’s still raining, but there’s a ray of sunlight cutting through them. For a minute Gojo feels worldly, grinning with damp skin before he slides his thumb across the phone. 
You’ve never called him before. 
“Hello?” He greets, wondering if it was an accident. Then you come through the other side of the line.
“Hi ~,” You say, clearly doing something in the midst of talking “How’ve you been?” 
“I’ve been alright. Very shocked you called me, yanno?”
You laugh quietly. 
“Sorry about that. I just wanted to check in. And I wanted to say thank you.” 
“I mean… I’ll accept but I feel like I should know what for.” He jokes. Your tone goes sincere, marshmallow soft and twice as sweet. 
“You paid the rest of the fees for the dog out of pocket, didn’t you?” 
He smiles to himself.
“Ah. Busted. That was supposed to be a secret between me and Mr. Security-Man,” 
“He didn’t tell me. I just…guessed. Seems like something you’d do.” 
His first instinct is to disagree.
“It’s not like I did it out of the goodness of my heart, okay? It was looking a little sad sleeping during the cold seasons. It was very pitiful. So bad, so sad.” 
“Why’d you do it?” You ask, probing but not too deeply “Like… really. It was really nice of you, but it was a couple thousand and that can’t be cheap.”
He relents, head leaning back on the wall behind him. 
“The kids, remember?” He murmurs, eyes staring up at the gray clouds “You said they’d be sad if the dog didn’t get adopted soon.” 
“The way you’re talking about it makes it seem like you’re doing this for me.” 
“And if I was? Would that bother you, hm?” 
You wait a minute, hesitating with your words. 
“Well…no. I guess not, I just—thank you. I guess I’m just a little… embarrassed about it or whatever.” 
“Shy, huh? Cute.”
“Jeez,” You huff. Gojo can practically hear your grinning from the other side; it makes his heart flutter. He wants to go home, to wherever you are “And you always say you’re no flirt.” 
“I’m not a flirt. I’m just telling it how it is.” 
“Yeah? Well, thanks anyway then. It made them really happy. You should’ve been there to see it. Maybe you can tell them when you get back?” 
“Don’t wanna.” He states outright. 
“You didn’t even think about it!” You exclaim.
“Mm, because I don’t have to. I definitely don’t want them to know.” 
“Why not, though? You’d be their hero, y’know? 
Maybe it’s something in the air. The damp weather out closer to the ocean, or the distance between you. There’s a tiny echo in your words, mechanical through the speakers. The word hero leaves a melancholy in his mouth, floating in the back of his throat like liquor refusing to go down. He chuckles. 
“Ooo, are you into that kinda thing? Like, super charming knights in shining armor? Or superheroes, maybe?” 
You giggle on the other side of the line. If you notice him avoiding answering you, you have the courtesy not to say anything.
“Isn’t everyone? I don’t know. I think if a really good-looking guy saved my life, it’d probably make my heart race a little, yeah. I’d catch feelings over that for sure.” 
He takes a deep breath. Everything smells like rain. 
“Is that so?” He says, chest blooming with warmth “I’ll keep that in mind.” 
__
Gojo returns from his mission empty-handed. 
He was out there for a long time, at least longer than usual when he’s traveling for a mission. He’s not used to hitting so many dead ends. The problem kept growing, but every trail he’d uncovered went cold in about a day. Just before he gave up hope, he was called in by Yagi. Since the issue has spread into other parts of the city, it’s no longer his solo jurisdiction. 
More hands on meant more time for Gojo to be teaching. It also meant that he would finally see you after so long. You waited for him outside the day he returned to Tokyo - wearing a cream colored sweater and the prettiest smile Gojo had ever laid eyes on. 
Gojo returns from his mission empty-handed but it’s not entirely pointless. Upon returning - he had a somewhat shallow epiphany about the way you make him feel. About the way he’s affected by you, which is arguably more valuable than some lead.
Being away from you for so long is something that makes him so irritable. He’s had some time between then and now to come into terms with it. 
Falling back into his routine, it was obvious. Suddenly there was a gap he’d never noticed before that blew wide enough for him to fall through. He actively avoids not seeing you if he can, and ever since your permissive conversation a few weeks ago - it’s harder to notice the way his desires fester. 
There’s not much he wants out of his life. So when anything noteworthy pops up, Gojo is always eager to get a hold of it before it’s too late. 
He usually soothes that by reminding himself of your position as a civilian, a kindergarten teacher at that. The responsible thing to do is make sure you’re safe. To play the hero from the sidelines and ensure you don’t encounter anything from his line of work. That’s his whole life's work. To create a life like that, and it helps to stay on that path when he believes you’re sheltered from that reality. 
That’s why, when you tell Gojo you can see curses, he feels the entire floor collapse from underneath his feet. 
He receives such devastating news over a cup of coffee at that.
It’s closing in to Fall slowly and Gojo has decided to take you out to eat as an apology for his disappearance. He intended to give you another half-truth about his job so you wouldn’t lose any sleep over him. 
When it happens, it’s less that you tell him, and more that you keep glancing. Just over his shoulder, with this terrified expression that Gojo couldn’t not notice, even if he tried. 
You’ve got your hands around a warm drink, in a white, ceramic mug but your gaze keeps diverting to the place behind him. When he looks over to that same place, a curse is there. Small. More insignificant than a bug, but there. 
It’s risky to mention it. Because if Gojo is wrong, it’s not something he can brush off. He’d have to come up with something to excuse himself, and he isn’t sure how to lie out of that (even with his natural disposition of being a trickster.) But when you keep looking, his instinct kicks in. There’s no way you aren’t seeing it. 
He doesn’t ask you directly. That’d be too incriminating, so he lowers his tone. Watches you briefly as you tremble in fear. 
(A small, small  part of him is only asking because he doesn’t like how distracted you are from him. Killing the curse seems like it’d relieve that annoyance too.)
“Can you see it…?” 
The question makes you jump out of your skin. You reel back, eyes widened before the realization really sets in. 
“....It?” 
Gojo looks around the cafe for a minute, to make sure no one is listening before he turns around and points to the cursed spirit behind him. 
“It,” He says, thumb pointed at the deformed curse moaning in one of the booths. 
When it dawns on you that Gojo sees what you see, you cup a hand over your mouth in shock. He can’t describe the way getting that confirmation feels. It raises so many questions about who you are. More than he had before, at least. 
No longer are you the innocent, clueless civilian and that changes every interaction he’s had with you since the start. Though it’s not uncommon for people who can see curses to fall through the cracks, he can feel his own curiosity dig into his skin like seeds taking root. He doesn’t think he should be excited, but he is. 
He’s excited watching your fearful tremble. He’s never seen you like that.
“Yes,” You say, voice a little shaky this time “I can see… it.” 
He takes the spoon out of his latte and cleans it with his mouth. Studying your expression momentarily, he takes a deep breath before standing to his feet. The terror is so subtle, the kind he can only catch because he’s so familiar.. He knows those emotions better than he knows most. 
Curses aren’t phobias. Not illusions or ghosts, but tangible madness. Impactful to those who can see it, but nothing to those who can’t. Fear like that, which can’t be shared with anyone, has a specific look when it shows up in someone. Gojo hasn’t felt that fear since he was very, very little. He watches curses with the same bland expression he might watch a horror movie, but he can understand your reaction at least.  He knows it like the back of his hand. All the people he’s saved, who could see them too, always wore the same one. 
Still, he’s caught off guard. He feels bad that you’re scared. But the proximity between you and him which was once oceans wide has decreased significantly in no time at all. That feels good. Even better than he would’ve imagined. 
“Are you scared?” He questions intently, maintaining a sense of neutrality.
You swallow a lump in your throat, eyes glued to the table in front of you.
“Yes,” 
Your voice is a hoarse whisper. The corners of his lips twitch upward. 
When he’s sure no one is looking, he stands up and walks over to the table behind him. Pretending to look for something so he doesn’t look out of place. It doesn’t take more than a second to destroy it. It’s tiny, something he’d never think of fighting since it’s so harmless. The curse equivalent to a fly. 
He gives it a violent death and sees you look on with horror in your expression. He finds himself pleased with that, wiping his hands on his pants before returning. Maybe you recognize his strength when he sits back down. Still, instead of pulling away again, you fold your hands in your lap. 
“T-Thank you,”
He grins at you. 
“Of course,” He says  “Can I ask you something?” 
You nod your head and sip your tea. 
“Do you know who I am?” 
You look confused.
“...Are you a celebrity?” 
He laughs hard at that. Hearing that makes him not want to tell you. 
“I’m Gojo Satoru,” He reintroduces. You nod slowly “I’m a sorcerer.” 
Another lie of omission. The strongest, he should say. He takes a sip of his latte, frowning at the bitterness. Through his mask, he watches as you fiddle with your hands. He stacks the empty creamer cups together before opening two more sugar packets and stirring them. 
“A sorcerer…” You look perplexed. Confusion settles into the lines of your face. Sheltered, Gojo concludes. Only parents, who shelter you wouldn’t tell you what a sorcerer was despite your ability to see them “What does that… mean exactly?” 
“It means I kill curses for a living” He replies simply. 
“I thought you were a high school teacher.” 
He smiles. 
“Smart cookie. I am, but the school I teach at specializes in cursed technique and sorcery.”
“Oh.” 
You look befuddled. 
Gojo thinks he might be an opportunist. 
“Do you really not know anything about them? It’s rare for people to be able to see them and not know anything about them.”
You shake your head, eyes peering into your drink. He watches how the image reflects in your eyes.
“Uhm. Not really. My parents told me to do my best to stay away from it. We lived in the countryside but I had to move out into the city for work so I kept… running into them. I can’t like… kill them. And I don't always see them.” 
“You can’t use cursed techniques?” 
“I guess that’s what that is. I don’t think I can, no.” 
Vulnerable. 
“Hmm. What circumstances,” He says, purposeful in weaving concern in his words. 
“Is it that bad…?” 
Not really. His job and the job of his peers is to make sure civilians make as little contact with curses as possible. There are more people like you, and because curses feed off of negative emotions - many dangers can be shafted by just not reacting. Even so, it’s customary for people to have some semblance of protection. A weapon if nothing else, for anyone who can see them.
“Do you carry anything with you?” 
“Like a weapon? I have mace for when I take the train late at night.” 
“Not that kind of weapon,” He says gracefully. He can tell you’re out of your element, and some small and twisted part of him would like to keep you in the fateful dark.
“What other kind would there be?” 
“There’s a lot you don’t know,” He half answers. Your frown deepens. He puts his palm over the top of his coffee cup but doesn’t feel any warmth “Aw, don’t be like that. I’m just teasing. You’re always so calm and collected, I was surprised to see how scared you got, you know?” 
“Everybody gets scared sometimes.” 
“Mm,”
His non-committal response leaves you nervous again. Fidgeting with the edge of your cup or the loose threads in the sleeves of your clothes. What a bundle of nerves you are. Gojo puts all the comfort he can in his voice, dredging up some sense of sincerity.
“Well, since it scares you and I’m such a nice guy, I’ll protect you if you get into any trouble.” He says, snapping his fingers and pointing at you.
That makes you relax. Makes your shoulders droop, a smile gracing your pretty face. Gojo can feel the floor underneath him sinking as you tease him. His eyes trace the curve of your neck. He’s glad you can’t see him or where they look. 
“Oh, what? Are you gonna come running every time I need help?” 
He smiles. 
“I’ll be your personal Superman.” He promises, making a silly expression trying to make you laugh. It feels good when he succeeds, the weight of his words softened by it. If you feel how heavy the comment is, it doesn’t show up on your face. 
You snort, taking a sip of your drink and there’s something so kind in your expression that Gojo aches over. 
“That right?” You hum, smiling over the edge of your ceramic mug “You’re my hero.”
__ 
Since then, Gojo’s kept quite busy.
The last time he saw you at all was at the diner a few weeks prior and little has been different since then. You send more nervous messages than before, but aside from that things are the same.
He’s done a good job, he thinks. Partly of ensuring you, partly of instilling healthy fear. Your eyes always widen like you’re caught off guard by his comments - sometimes washed away with a laugh but other times genuine. Gojo likes to keep you on your toes. A  bit of harmless fun and endlessly amusing. 
Gojo would be there to protect you just like he promised before, so even scaring you isn’t something he thinks of as bad. It’s not untrue that you should be a little more vigilant, but just telling you to do so is no easy feat. 
He would like to be spending time with you today just the same as he has before, but he’s home alone instead. There’s been a brief reprieve between cases so he’s on his own to unwind. There’s nothing he wants to do, so he decides on a movie. 
Gojo is the only one of his friends who still has cable TV. According to Shoko it’s a luxury purchase but for him it’s one less choice he has to make when coming home to relax.
It’s an American film on now, some psycho-killer classic that he’s already seen a handful of times with Japanese subtitles. 
None of the lights are turned on, so the TV illuminates the room in flashes of color. He grabs a soda from his steel-gray fridge and cracks it open, listening to the soft fizz that comes to a slow halt. Pulling it to his mouth, he travels slowly back to his couch. The leather squeaks under the weight of his body. The weight of his back creates a divet that he can be comfortable in. He rests his head, glancing back again at the screen. 
A scream rips through the house, agitating his every nerve. He picks up his remote and turns it down just a tad before watching the movie with a sort of disinterest. Horror movies aren’t his favorite, admittedly. He pretends he scares easily, but the opposite is true. Gojo has seen too much for it to be entertaining, no less scary. 
He likes movies based on their creative merit. He’ll watch one on its creative merit. 
But to be scared? For frights? Not really. Very little gets his heart pumping hard like that. Sometimes the storytelling is good. Other times there’s something cathartic about the formulaic death. The final girl, the call from inside the house. The dependable and clean ending of tropes. Even if it’s messy or sinister, it’s fantastical. Fictitious and detached. 
Gojo enjoys that. For anyone else, it’s probably a twisted way to think about it but to Gojo it only feels natural. He doesn’t examine that detachment very deeply. He’s just aware of it, lingering in the back of his head. 
He takes a long sip of his drink. The sickly sweet taste slowly coats his mouth. Fizzy and smooth, it goes down easily. He sits up in his seat, making himself comfortable as he tries to pay attention to the movie. The main girl is hiding in the bathroom, and the killers' steps are echoing through the house. The broken, somber string instruments in the background, fill the white noise with apprehension and terror. 
Gojo doesn’t feel a chill down his spine. His eyes are still fixed on the screen though, with slight anticipation of what's next even though he already knows. It’s nearing the end and he’s seen this movie before. She’s not going to make it, and Gojo knows that. 
He watches intently in spite of that. The door bursts open and there’s a knife in her chest - and screams. It’s horrific and ugly, blood-spattered and graphic. 
He doesn’t flinch until the whole way through.
It’s brief, but the thought passes his mind. Lately, the only thing that Gojo seems to react to is you.
But he doesn’t think about it too deeply. There’s no need to. 
The TV goes to commercial and Gojo realizes he’s finished his soda. He stands back up, onto his feet to toss the can and grab another. This time, he grabs some snacks too. Piles them onto a plate, dried meats, and something mildly sweet for after before he returns to his living room. Sitting back down on his couch, he scrolls through his phone for anything interesting but comes up short of any results. 
He sits up a little straighter as the next movie plays. 
__
Spending time around curses is a necessary part of the learning experience.
Things you can’t learn in all the lessons and tutoring in the entire world. Even though Jujutsu Tech exists, and even given Gojo’s lineage - when he started working officially, he didn’t know everything. You can’t. No matter to what extent you study, there’s some things that you can only gauge through experience. Going through something over and over, like muscle memory.
Gojo spent a lot of his life wanting it to make sense. Wanting curses and the way they showed up to make sense. This is a lesson in truth, divine truth you can only take up in experience. Curses are human emotions, which means that they are finicky and everywhere. And the dangers of them will always look like the aftermath of destruction. 
Sometimes, there’s nothing you can do to prepare for why things happen. It’s why Gojo is always grasping for light where he can find it. 
Gojo Satoru stands in an empty parking lot all the way in Osaka. He examines the sight in front of him and can’t find anything he’s learned to prepare for what's next. 
Fog has rolled in thick clouds over every inch, limiting his vision. The air tastes of smoke, and the earth underneath him is damp. The wet concrete squeaks under the weight of his shoes as he takes in the surroundings. The parking lot of an animal hospital, in particular - where all the staff were reported to have fallen unconscious. After being rolled out by the proper authorities and after all the animals were moved into a different location - Gojo was left to examine the remnants of the incident. 
The reports are similar all across the country. Not the location. but the symptoms. People falling sick and ill. The initial reports of a water-borne illness didn’t progress far past the first city. It’s evolved since then. People get sick, pass out and hallucinate and animals lose all control. 
The aftermath isn’t very messy so luckily it doesn’t attract too much attention. There’s no bodies, or blood - nothing  heinous thereafter. The effects appear later in the people affected, taken over by an unnamed madness that appears to turn their internal experience to ruins. Gojo would’ve preferred the first situation. Violence like that becomes easy to digest with enough exposure. 
These kinds of symptoms are always hard to stomach. Civilians get answers that placate them. The truth is that there's something bigger out there at play and they were just so unlucky to bear witness to the terror. With altered memories and the badge of trauma, what they don’t know can’t hurt them. 
Gojo knows though, and sometimes he envies their ignorance.
He makes his way into the building. A set of glass doors greets him when he turns the sidewalk, with a blinking sign. Osaka Animal Hospital is written at the top in neon, accompanied by the words 24hr service. Gojo only glances at it briefly before sighing, hands on the bar to push himself through the heavy glass doors. He has to lean some of his weight to get through, and there’s just another set beyond those where he has to do the same. 
Then, he’s inside. 
The presence of the curse and of cursed energy ignites familiar caution within him. It’s here, in some capacity - or it was recently. The perpetrator is here too. Why that is, Gojo can’t quite understand. It seems a little backwards to linger here after everyones been evacuated and there’s no doubt someone would come to investigate. 
All Gojo can think is that maybe they weren’t expecting him. But by now, they must know he’s there too. Gojo’s presence is intentionally oppressive - by nature it must be. Now it’s a waiting game, a quiet one at that. 
Hospitals are always echoey and this one is no different. The squeak of his boots bounces off the walls as he takes steps towards the receptionist desk just to see if he’ll find anything. 
He leans over it, to stare at the left over records - untouched by the authorities. Everything looks like it was left in a hurry. Strew pens and a corded phone just barely back in place - with computers on a blue idle screen. All the daily documents are still out sitting on the desk with no organization to indicate they’ve been filtered through. No paper clips or post-its telling the next person working about what to do. 
Instead of walking behind the counter, he climbs over it with relative ease. Once he’s behind it, he takes better note of his surroundings. He doesn’t find anything completely relevant. There’s painting of animals, and some certifications for bills of health as well - but nothing that warrants his attention. He redirects through the papers in front of him, coming across a stack unexamined. Those answer sheets they give you to fill out so they can assess the situation before meeting you. 
They’re split into two piles it looks like, though that could just be some coincidence. Still, he flips through them. Directing his attention to the little comment box with the prompt what are you being seen for? 
It’s nothing serious. Normal things an animal owner would be upset or worried about like bowel movements and eating something that shouldn’t have been consumed. A minor injury or a worrisome behavior - but nothing that sticks out. For pages and pages, Gojo flips through the little packets trying to find anything. 
It’s not what he sees, but what he doesn’t. A blank packet of papers, with no name for the owner or the pet. Only a description in the prompt box, neat handwriting in a single line. 
“Showing signs of anxiety.” 
Gojo smiles to himself. Interesting. 
He jumps back over onto the other side once he’s seen it. It’s strange. Why would they go to the lengths of premeditating it like that? Whether it’s the curse itself or some third party, it’s an unreasonable thing to do. 
“Not like people like this are usually reasonable, but,” 
He saves the rest of the thought, sighing. The room has two hallways to go down. Both directions have some lingering cursed energy,  but the hallway leading to the overnight area is much stronger. It’s separated by a big metal door, so Gojo braces himself to go through it.
He walks towards it slowly and through the doors even slower. It’s a long, empty hall. The ceilings are low, white fluorescent lights over his head like a falsified halo. They flicker on and off, with the ones at the very end of the hall having fizzled out completely. Gojo can hear, feel, and see everything. He can hear his own breathing and the artificial crackling  of electricity. Feel the lingering presence of sickness, the sediments of a curse preparing itself to emerge like a butterfly from a cocoon. 
He peeks into the different rooms of the hallway. One half of the hall is kennels, once again empty and left in the same messy state as the front desk. The other half of the rooms look like surgery rooms, with a storage closet tucked into one corner. The hall comes to an abrupt stop at the end, a painted gray wall with nothing to offer at the end.
But when Gojo is half-way through, he hears it. A heart-beat. A human one, slow and steady like it’s not worried at all. Not moving or running, just there. Thump, thump, thump. 
Gojo perks his head up as he walks, leaning over to get a look at every room. Empty, empty, empty. 
Then, in the very last one is a shadowy figure. The sound of the heartbeat is louder and the feeling of cursed energy is so strong it’s nauseating. Gojo pauses when he peers in, waits for there to be any response to his presence. There’s no way whoevers lurking doesn’t know he’s there, but there’s nothing that makes him react. He frowns. 
His hand reaches for the handle of the door with a sigh, the mechanism inside clicking to let Gojo know it’s open. He takes a deep breath before opening it, stepping inside and shutting it behind him. 
Even with the room as dark as it, the person inside is clear to his vision. A young girl. Probably no older than 17 with… 
He furrows his brow. With a dog, from what it looks like. No ordinary dog, obviously. A curse in the form of a dog, with teeth too sharp for its mouth and fur that looks like a smear of charcoal and nothing like hair at all. It’s on a long leash, the chain wrapped around the young woman's palms. 
The dog seems to tense up at the sight of Gojo. The eyes are empty and white - almost transparent. It’s a snarling thing, muzzle over the mouth and clearly on edge. Gojo looks at its owner, the perpetrator in this instance. Who looks calm, black mask tucked over face and long dark hair with bangs cut sharp.
Gojo doesn’t know what to say here. He wasn’t expecting to make contact this easily with a curse and its master. It’s been months now, the authorities chasing after this special grade from city to city. She’s obviously strong, and so is that curse that’s strained against its collar like it’s ready to rip him in half if he moves. Not stronger than him, because no such thing ever happens - but strong enough for him to be cautious. 
He doesn’t step forward. He stops by the door and tilts his head. He’s sure she can’t see his eyes, but they make eye contact all the same. None of it makes any sense, but making sense of it isn’t Gojo’s job. 
Instead of introducing himself, he opens the conversation with a question. 
“Why’re you still here?” 
“I knew I was going to get caught soon.” 
An answer he couldn’t predict even if he tried. Gojo huffs. 
“There was some time between the authorities coming and this investigation. You could have left before then, no?” 
“Doesn’t matter. Something would’ve stopped me.” 
“What a weird kid. What led you to that?” 
There’s a minute where the dog (?) starts barking,  but the noise is nothing like a bark. It’s cosmic and strained, and sounds more like a distorted radio than an animal noise. It’s in the shape of an animal but it isn’t one, like it couldn’t complete itself to be one. Gojo winces at the sound, intensified in the closed walls of the room. It’s piercing, and a little annoying. 
When she soothes it, it calms down quickly. It’s obedient. 
“Uh. A vision. Closer to a premonition. Fate.”
“Fate said you were going to get caught today. Right.” 
“Aren’t you a shaman? Shouldn’t be that hard to believe.” 
“Point taken. How did you know I was a shaman and not some murderer?” 
She gives Gojo a pointed look. 
“Look at you. Plus, I can feel that you’re a shaman.” 
“Another premonition?” He asks, this time sincerely. She shakes her head. 
“No. Your aura.” 
Gojo stares ahead. 
“...Right, yeah. It doesn’t look like you’re planning on attacking me.” 
“I don’t think I’d win. I’ve never met anyone stronger than me.” 
“I’m the strongest there is, so I guess not. How did you wanna go about this, then? Famous last words?” 
“You go first. I’d rather talk to you than the other officials.” 
“Hm. Don’t know if I have any questions, kiddo. My job is catching you, not interrogation. I guess I am a little interested in why.” 
This makes her deflate a little. It’s hardly noticeable, but Gojo sees it anyway. The dog seems to react, snarling at her discomfort. He’s starting to understand the connection between them.
She thinks for a minute longer before sighing. 
“Well. I guess I should start about why, right? It’s an old story. I came from a small village. I used to walk miles to school everyday and I’d get bullied a lot since my granny was a shaman. It was just us growing up. A nice old house with not a lot of modern anything,”
Gojo crosses his arms, leaning back on the wall and nodding his head. He figures she’ll tell him top to bottom, so he doesn’t give any input. 
“My granny died a few years ago. I didn’t have any family so I moved on my own. Even back then, the only other thing I cared about were animals. I started working at a shelter and then I met Senbei.” 
The more she talks, the worse he feels. Gojo already knows how this story will end, but he doesn’t interrupt her as she pauses between her sentences. Being 17 and bearing the burdens of loss is something he regards as a nightmare. 
“Senbei was my best friend. Most loyal dog ever. And you know, I started my job with high hopes and kept him by my side. I wasn’t always angry. Working in that shelter and watching animals come in trembling every time I fed ‘em made me angry. How cruel and sick people could be.” 
Her explanations are jumbled and clumsy. She sounds angry but it’s not that simple, curling in on herself the more she talks. Noticeably, she doesn’t try to justify it. She says it easily, with acceptance that it happened.  He thinks that acceptance is harder to bear than delusion. Gojo can’t help but commend her silently. 
“I’m sorry you went through that.”  Gojo replies. 
He’s being sincere. 
“Should you be sympathizing with me?” 
“Doesn’t matter. I just do.”
Her expression softens. She looks sad, and it’s not like Gojo doesn’t understand.  She keeps going though, hands shaking in her lap. Gojo thinks she might’ve been waiting to tell someone. 
“I don’t know when I stopped seeing the good in people….I always thought about—about my granny and how no one—no one came to see her. She was always taking care of everyone and no-one—“
“I know, kid,” Gojo says with a sigh “I get it.” 
“Then you know,” She pauses, taking a deep breath. There’s frustrated tears pouring down her cheek this time. What a strange, sad thing she is:  “That you can’t go back. Even if you forget. It just—it changes you.” 
Yeah. Gojo knows something about that, too. 
“I was already pretty desperate when Senbei was alive. Just trying to hold on. When he was killed, I lost it. I just fucking— I lost it. I’m sure you understand. You get it right?”
Gojo looks at her confused. She shakes her head, looking down in her lap at the curse in her hands.
“I can tell you're like me.  That's why your aura is so tainted and… fucked up and  malicious. It should be crystalline blue kinda like spring water—but it’s muddy. Rigid.” 
“What are you talking about?”
“The fact you’re hanging on by a thread. You can feel it too, right?“ 
Gojo remains quiet at her observation. He doesn’t know how to react. 
“When you want something so bad, it just— does something to you. Either because it won’t happen or because it needs to take your life to exist. Happened to granny, to me. It’ll happen to you, too.”
“I doubt that,” Gojo says, your face flashing in his mind. He shakes his thoughts away. 
“You’re thinking about it too literally. You want something, so you chase it and lose yourself in the process. You’re dead. No longer you, all tangled and in ruins. It’s not too late, but if you keep going—that thread is gonna snap.” 
“A premonition?” He says, partially sarcastic. She shakes her head. 
“No, a prediction. You don’t have to consider it if you don’t want to. I just thought I’d tell you since you gave me some last minutes with this Senbei.” 
Gojo shakes his head. 
“I don’t have any reason to be forceful if you comply. Take your time. I don’t have anything better to do.” 
Gojo glances at her as she pets it, having resigned herself to silently gazing upon it. He can’t stop himself from thinking about everything she’s said, so he averts his gaze to the ceiling and pretends otherwise.
The silent stretches, a pregnant pause before she speaks one more time. She has a look on her face Gojo can’t read.
“You know, it’s funny. Everyone thinks dogs are loyal to their masters, but that’s because we made them that way. We can’t stand being alone or unloved so we made something that can do both without ever seeing any less of us.” 
“You’ve had a lot of time to think about it.”  Gojo says, unsure of how to reply. She isn’t expecting anything, but remaining silent fills him with a sense of dread. 
“Guess so. You should take some time to think about it too,”
She says to him, petting the curse that whines like it’s been hit in her small hands. Gojo takes a deep breath. 
“…Yeah. I’ll do that.” 
__
The case ends anti-climatically. 
Gojo finds it funny. The officials came and the young girl was promptly arrested. He never even got a chance to ask her name. He learned through some probing that she only made two asks before being taken. 
The first, to keep her curse dog with her, and to send her thanks to the sorcerer who had apprehended her in the first place.
On the news, much later in the week - a news report surfaces. “Danger in the Deep,” giving reasonable and logical explanations for the events that occurred in cities across Japan not even a few weeks ago. New studies show, experts say, here’s a word from your local—a barrage of fancy language to pad the publishing, add depth and realism. The public is none the wiser. 
Gojo has to admire the commitment to keeping the peace. The case ends, and the girl gets arrested and put on trial. He doesn’t know if he’ll be seeing her again any time soon, though he’s sure he has the power to intervene. 
He’s hesitating to do so. Why stick his neck out for her in a situation like this one? Over other situations, more dire ones at that. She’d make a good ally.
Their last conversation hasn’t left the back of Gojo’s mind. He’s conscious of it, albeit it hasn’t slowed him down. He’s not looking for another assessment of who or what ghosts are haunting him. He’d prefer to put it all behind him now
So life, in some capacity, has returned to its baseline. It’s normal. He has cases but they don’t take him more than three days. He’s able to do his usual chores without anything impeding them. He’s been teaching, no longer forced to make his students fend for themselves. 
He’s been seeing you again regularly, too. 
He’s getting ready now to do just that. Scheduled to get another coffee together (something of a tradition now) and pick up some conversations. You’ve been busy, though Gojo doesn’t know the details of what.
He wants to know. He’s even tried asking but as soon as he gets close to the subject, you slink into yourself like you’re trying to disappear. Besides, he doesn’t want to intimidate you into telling him. 
(Though, it would be so easy to do. You’ve got a record for being a scaredy cat, and as much as it endears him - he is entirely too hung up on the potential for exploitation to admire it kindly. It’d be easy to turn the notches up, pressure you. With how easy going you are, you’d let him do it. Gojo bets you’d cave. He thinks the face you’d make would be entertaining too. 
Above all, the offer is tempting.) 
In spite of your refusal to discuss the specifics, Gojo does want to cheer you up in whatever capacity he can. So, he’s taking you out for a while and hoping a comfortable environment and the presence of other people will soothe your nerves a little. 
He’s getting dressed for it now, rifling through his closet for decent casual attire. 
He’s got his hair styled down, a pair of new sunglasses on the table and his clothes folded on his bed before he tries them on. Most of his closet is uniforms, plain black and boring. For now, he’s settled on a black crew neck and blue jeans - ripped at the knees. 
He looks over his appearance in the mirror, posing in it. Arms flexed and stretched over his head before putting them out in front of his body. 
He takes his time to take part in the ritual. He slips his boxers up over his legs, waist band tight around his torso and clinging to the curves of his thighs. He pulls his jeans up, low at his hips with a belt buckled through the front. Then comes his sweater over his abdomen. 
He wants to look nice. Though, he could be deluding himself - lately you seem a little more aware of his appearance. It makes him happy that his good looks haven’t failed him in the instance they matter most. 
As he puts on his accessories (in this case a watch and a ring) his phone buzzes atop his dresser. He stops to pick it up, a message from you on the screen. He peers over so his face can be read, then smiles. 
(sent 11:15am) Ready ~ 
He laughs to himself. 
(sent 11:16am) Almost ready. Need to look my best for such a tremendous occasion. 
(sent 11:16am) For coffee? 
(sent 11;17) For coffee with my favorite kindergarten teacher ofc ♡
You send back a simple reply telling him to hurry and come out. Gojo chooses to interpret your embarrassment as a sign. It puts some pep in his step, and he hurries to finish dressing up. 
He steps out of his house, locking his door from the outside before shuffling down a single flight of stairs and out into the front entrance of his complex. He notices you waiting at the front gate from where he’s standing. 
The neighborhood dog (officially named Pokupan) is asleep by the security office. You’re the same as always. Today's outfit is a dress with long sleeves and colored tights. It suits you. A splash of warmth in an otherwise dreary world, Gojo stands in place as he watches you for an unidentified amount of time. Minutes feel like seconds as you pace back and forth. Your phone must be in your purse because he can’t find it anywhere on you. 
He’s delighted when you finally turn your head to look at him. You cup your hand and give him a kind wave which he laughs at and returns enthusiastically. His stride is long, walking towards the gate. 
You have to tilt your neck up to look at him (making his chest squeeze unhelpfully) but you smile when you do so. 
“Hey,” 
“Hello there Miss. Waiting for a special someone?” He jokes. You flush. 
“They’re an important friend,” 
He tries not to let his smile falter. Friend. 
“Then, is it a bother if I ask to take you out?” 
This time you falter. Gojo notices it out of the corner of his eye, the briefest brush of nerves that makes it seem like you’re warming up to him after all. It’s gone as quickly as it came but it’s there and Gojo etches it into the back of his eyelids for memory. He smiles at you as you look away, flush
“Not at all,” 
He grins, again, even brighter. Then he sticks his arm out for you to loop in. You hesitate again. This time Gojo can’t be sure why.
“I’m just being a gentleman, you know?” He pouts. His frown takes effect as you loop your arms together. He keeps it friendly. Too much pushing and you’ll skitter away right before his eyes. Still, even this much progress feels good. It feels whole and light and good. 
It’s a pleasant sort of day. 
Not that it’s warm, or even sunny. It’s cold, on the edge of Autumn that dances into Winter. Freezing but bright out, the kind of sky where everything is clear. During the day the sky has no clouds and no stars when it comes to night time. 
Nonetheless it’s nice. The cold is the kind that makes you want to cozy into someone for warmth, so Gojo doesn’t mind walking in. The walk itself isn’t very long either. The cafe is near your complex, just about 15 minutes worth of walking. There’s no snow or ice to trip on, and because it’s freezing - you shiver every time you stray too far from the heat of his body so the walking is done exceptionally close together
There are kids and parents walking together on the street alongside you, dogs and their owners, street vendors with hot tea. It’s that kind of day where the cold doesn’t keep anyone indoors, in fact everyone seems to relish in the fact they can run and run and run without overheating. It feels like everything is in sync with each other, comfortable and harmonious in spite of everything else.
After 15 minutes, you’ve arrived at the store front. Not long enough for Gojo, but that’s okay. There’s next time he has to look forward too. 
(He tells himself this every time. It’s never enough for him. He can never get enough of listening to you talk. He could probably mimic your cadence without having to try. It’s a sound he doesn’t get sick of―a miracle, another one, because Gojo hates so many sounds―yet there’s one he always looks out for. 
There has to be a next time. If he forgets to tell himself as much, he gets so restless he can hardly stand.
The cafe is nice. It’s one of those places that you see on Instagram often with plenty of sweets for Gojo’s taste and plenty of fancy teas for yours. The outside has beige-colored brick and a brown sign decorated with cutesy drawings. You spend a good amount of time crouched beside it, taking a picture or two to later post on your story. 
“You have to tag me, okay? It’s your payment for wasting our precious time together,” He jokes. 
You stand to your feet and brush off your pants, the material of your coat rustling as you do. 
“Yes, yes ― I promise. I’ll have to ask who drew them when we get in there.” 
Gojo smiles at your enthusiasm before opening the door for you.  Another one of those glass ones with a logo printed on the top half and the metal tinted brown. A little bell chimes above your head as you head in first, and Gojo heads in after you. He has to duck not to his his head on the top of it.
It’s not too crowded at this hour. A handful of people sit among the many tables and booths. Your head is turned to the menu and Gojo trails behind you like a shadow. One to compliment all your light. 
It smells delightful inside. Like warm cookies and vanilla and tea. Gojo feels his sweet tooth kick in the minute you two stand in line. The barista is a doe-eyed blonde college student. There’s another employee with long dark hair and thin, narrow eyes. It reminds Gojo a lot of that girl he met a few weeks ago but he tries to put that thought out of his mind.
He sticks his hands in his pockets and eyes the menu. The special item is a yuzu cream cake, the picture of it hanging on the wall like employee of the month. There’s a glass display of all the other items and the menu matches the rest of the decor.
“This was a good choice,” Gojo says, entranced by all the desserts around him. You laugh, turning your head slightly to look at him. 
“Are you complimenting yourself right now?” 
“Am I wrong?” 
“Your sweet tooth is so bad,” You say through giggles “Your poor dentist,” 
He gasps in offense.
“I will have you know I keep my pearly whites pristine. Not a single cavity for the record.” He says back, placing emphasis on the last words. You snort a laugh. 
“I’ve never had one either,” You repeat back, perhaps mindlessly before saying “There’s a lot we don’t know about each other yet.” 
Yet. Yet. Gojo’s subconscious will hold onto that word for too long. It makes his heart beat too loud. He’s relieved that you’re nothing like him. If you were in this very moment, you would hear the thunder raging inside of his ribs. 
Instead of saying anything, he scoffs playfully. 
“I bet you were such a goody two-shoes that you never ate sweets before bed-time.” 
Your eyes widen in surprise followed by embarrassment, where you tuck your chin into your sweater. 
“Ugh,” You say, so weakly Gojo can’t stop himself from laughing “What’s wrong with being a goody two shoes, huh?” 
Gojo feels almost feline in his self-satistication. “I didn’t say anything was wrong with it, just that you were one.” 
Your frown deepens. 
“I don’t care for your tone, mister.” 
“Are you gonna scold me like one of your students?” 
“If it gets you to be nice,” You say firmly, in that Teacher voice that Gojo has caught glimpses of over the last few months. He does a fake salute. 
“Yes, ma’am!,” He proclaims,  soft enough so only you hear it. You break out into another set of his giggles, melting his cold heart. It’s not the smile so much as it is yours.  The line moves up just a little bit. Gojo steps in front of you before you have a chance, his figure shadowing you. 
“What do you want?” 
“I think I’m gonna get one of those fruit teas and some cake.” You say absentmindedly. He smiles at you playfully. 
“Heard,” 
Gojo turns to order for you both, laughing through your obvious protests about his paying for you. He’s able to block you from getting in the way as the cashier looks on the both of you bemusedly. When the order is placed, Gojo taps his phone against the reader before moving aside where you stomp your feet and follow him. 
“I told you I would get it this time,” You whine. He hums. 
“Mm, there’s always next time?” 
“You say that every time!” 
“So you never know? Maybe it’s next time for sure.” 
You seem to realize that this is a fruitless conversation and that he’s not going to relent. With a flush on your face, you cross your arms and pout. 
“I’ll get you back one of these times, I swear….Anyway, thank you.” You add the last part quietly. He hums. 
“It’s only fair, you know. After all, who else would come here to eat sweets with me?” 
You look taken aback but Gojo doesn’t retract his statement. He’s sure there’s someone he could ask. But there’s no one who would agree to it as easily as you have. The environment wouldn’t be so welcoming, either. Someone who would do something like this with Gojo is long lost. It almost feels foreign to him now. 
In order to ease the tension, you look up at him warmly. 
“Then, I’m glad you asked me.” 
There it is again. That warm, sort of fluttery feeling he gets in his chest being around you. He wonders if he’s allowed to be so happy. 
The food arrives at the counter, the young woman calling out for Gojo. You and Gojo split the task of carrying the plates, picking a nice booth in the corner with the top covered, You slide in across from him, situating your bag. 
You and Gojo go back and forth, setting up everything so it looks nice under the lights. Gojo takes on taking the photos this time, clicking from a few different angles and stopping to show you after each photo. 
“I’ll send you the picture later, okay?” 
“Don’t forget.” 
“I won’t, I won’t. Let’s eat, okay?” 
You nod enthusiastically.
__ 
You and Gojo eat and chat comfortably for a while. 
He’s not sure how much time passes. He wasn’t checking because why would he? He’d like to be with you a bit longer, so he refrains from thinking about it and hopes you do the same. Just a bit more, he tells himself. Until you really, really have to go. 
There’s nothing major to catch up on. You tell Gojo about your job, mostly and how you saw some friends from out of town the week before. Winter is coming and you want to do something nice for the holidays. You’re getting along well with your fellow teachers which is good. He was worried about that, but he can’t keep eyes on you at school. 
(Not for not having tried. He’s thought about it, but his presence would be too noticeable and he doesn’t trust anyone else to the task) 
So it’s relieving. Your only complaint has been that some of the students have the sort of parents you can’t handle. Pushy and involved in a way you can’t ignore but can’t tolerate either. Gojo jokes to take care of them, gesturing to his arm like he’s ready to knock someone's lights out. 
That makes you laugh, and following it you have this melancholy look that sends alarms blaring in Gojo’s head. You don’t broach the subject at all afterwards. You talk about everything else you can. The sale on radishes at the market, thinking about getting a car just to have it, maybe visiting your parents sometime soon. 
Gojo listens. He doesn’t have much to add. His work is strictly classified to people who aren’t in the field and it’s nothing fun to begin with. He does tell you what he can - usually about some antics his students have gotten into during training. He can at least talk about that. 
He tells you about the movies he’s watched, how he went drinking with his co-workers last week, and how he thinks Pokupan is starting to act friendlier to him. 
It’s fun because it’s you. Gojo likes feeling like he’s involved with you intimately. He likes hearing you talk. The sound of your voice is such a pleasant contrast to his own. You talk with a kind of joy Gojo could never hope to carry, all gestures and smiles and interjections - trying to make sure your point comes across. How you don’t think the kid sitting in the front is a bad kid, just needs guidance. How the material of your sweater isn’t really cashmere but more of a blend. 
Time passes  comfortably that way. The drinks and food have been reduced to crumbs and cold drops of tea, glasses emptied and phones abandoned. 
But neither of you have made any move to leave, and Gojo is still listening to you talk with a pleased smile on his face. It was a pleasant sort of day, remember? 
“So it was fine in the end, but the classroom was such a mess seriously―” 
So, it throws Gojo off when you stop speaking so abruptly. How easily the atmosphere melts, and what an unpleasant film it leaves behind. 
It feels like an axe hammering on a stop, a sharp and near violent thud that cuts off the end of your sentence. The air becomes tense in the blink of an eye. Gojo can feel it, the sensation of cursed energy. It’s stagnated, little like pebbles at the bottom of a creek. But it’s there, and Gojo can feel it creep over your shoulders like a sixth sense. Like someone skipped a stone over that same water. He senses it in the air like dust in the light.
He sits up straight, focusing his attention on you. 
“Hey,” He calls out, softening his voice as much as he can. Trying hard to identify what's wrong exactly “You okay?” 
Your hands shake as you lay them flat on the table. You’re almost completely spaced out by now. It all happens in the blink of an eye. 
Gojo stares at you, calling to you a second time. 
“Hey. Hey, look at me?” 
When you finally hear him, you jump in your skin. Your shoulders relax when you realize it’s only Gojo. Normally that would make him happy, but not like this. Your hands are shaking. A nervous fidget in all of your movements that he’s never seen before, like you’ve been shocked with electric wire. He hates it. The taste of your fear (this fear) is different and unfamiliar. 
He doesn’t like it. 
You turn your head to look at him then avert your eyes again. He can’t follow your gaze as it shifts. It’s too erratic.
“No, uhm. It’s just, uhm.” 
“Woah! Hey, Miss. I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” 
Everything feels like it slows down as Gojo watches your eyes snap up. Your expression drops again, even lower, and if he listens close enough he can hear the sound of your heart. Your discomfort is tangible. It leaves a metallic taste in Gojo’s mouth as you suddenly curl in yourself, shoulders hunched and peeling skin off your nails. 
You don’t even look to Gojo for help. Instead, your words go soft.  You become helpless in front of his eyes. 
“Oh. Yes, hello.” You bow your head trying to say as little as possible. Gojo stares as you shake like a leaf in the wind. Something ugly curls up inside of him, a knife twisting in his chest. 
“Aw, c’mon? What’s with the unfriendly act? Is it ‘cause you’re here with your boyfriend?”
You look up at him panicked. Not because of the comment, but because of his tone. Gojo hears it too. How sinister it is. Like he’s blaming you for it somehow, like you’ve wronged him. The feeling inside of him is so ugly, it’s so wretched. His knuckles turn nearly white from how hard he’s closing his fist. You put your hands up and go to explain yourself anxiously. 
It makes Gojo sick. He smiles, turning his head just a little so he can see. He opens his eyes and stares, focusing his vision on remembering every detail of the bastard's face.
“I’m not her boyfriend. We’re neighbors,” He explains, tone as cold as ice but smiling. 
Gojo puts pressure in the atmosphere. His natural and suffocating aura returns to him easily. He smiles and remains unnervingly still, waits in quiet for the man to respond. He scratches the back of his head, still indignant. 
“Uh. Okay. I guess that’s good. Wouldn’t be appropriate for a teacher to be out on a date like this huh?” 
Again. This guy, whoever he is, turns his head like he’s trying to talk down to you. Diverts his perversion and sadism towards you that leaves Gojo wondering what his head would look like against concrete. A bitter, heinous feeling waits inside of him, nesting into his ribs as the sound of every voice in the room comes to be muffled. All Gojo can hear is his heart. How long it's been since he’s heard it. 
It’s loud. A cacophony, or a hymn. Divine rage in the sound of his soul leaves has him unsure of how to proceed. 
Gojo glances at you. Your eyes are rounded, full of desperation. Pleading. 
Gojo hates whoever this is. Gojo wants to save you. He thinks you deserve to be saved. 
He stands up. He has enough height on the guy to be intimidating, the guy just barely coming up to his shoulder. Gojo stares down wildly, pulling his glasses to the bridge of his nose to peek briefly over the edge. The bastard stops talking immediately, words coming to a stutter, It’s satisfying. 
“Who are you?” He asks. 
“Wh-why is that any of your concern? Can’t you see I’m talking to―” 
“I didn’t ask about who you were talking to. I asked who you were,” 
He hears you from behind him “He’s a parent from my school,”
“Ah, okay. Interesting. Since you’re a parent, we wouldn’t want to make this a confrontation right?” Gojo says, bemused “It’d be a real issue for everyone if it turned out that way,” 
Gojo puts a hand on his shoulder, tightening his grip hard enough to hear him gasp. He’s weak, but that’s to be expected.
“So, I suggest you turn around and head home, hm? Since we wouldn’t want it to be a big fuss.” 
Gojo can see it now. With a little pressure, he could turn the blade of his shoulder in sawdust and watch him fall to his knees. He’d let out a cry, a sharp pathetic wail like a hit dog. Gojo would make him say sorry to you before he lets up his hand from his skin. He’d do it infront of everyone in the store so they could hold a little fear in their hearts. 
He won’t do it. Just for now. If it complicates your work then you wouldn’t be able to support yourself. What would he do if you ended up somewhere far away? Out of his sight, something like this could happen again and Gojo wouldn’t be able to take care of you. 
So he doesn’t crush it. He pushes his palms into his shoulder blades and whispers quietly, just so the two of them hear. He pulls away and watches as his face goes pale, a simple stutter leaving his lips. Something about how he’ll see you later and that somethings come up before he turns around and leaves.
Gojo watches as he does. The door chimes again, and the man disappears. The patrons who might’ve glanced turn away again like it was just a simple altercation, which is good. Then finally, Gojo looks at you where you are. Your hands are trembling so hard, a shake of relief in your shoulders as you cover your face. You look like you’re getting ready to cry, so Gojo takes it into his own hands. He cleans up all the food, wipes the table, and even grabs your jacket and bag as you take a minute to collect yourself. 
He taps your shoulder lightly afterwards, waiting for you to look up. Once you do he smiles, reaches a hand out to you so you don’t have to think twice. 
“About time to get out of here, huh?” 
You nod, so slowly. You look so relieved, even as you sniffle. Your hand is so small compared to his. He squeezes it protectively as you slide it into his own, and helps you walk out of the store together. 
The air is cold, the same as before, the temperature having warmed just a bit. The bell above the door rings as the two of you finally leave, standing in the street. Unlike before though, there’s something bitter in the air. The sun has hidden itself completely in the clouds and the streets feel emptier, lifeless. 
Gojo turns to you with a somber expression, trying to smile. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes. 
“Do you want to go somewhere to talk about it, maybe?” 
You chew your lower lip then sigh “...Yeah. Probably should, huh?” 
You and Gojo decide on a place not too far from where you are. It’s a small park, a good place to end off an otherwise good day. 
You have to take the bus to get there, but there’s not many people. Gojo eventually gives you back your things, lets you slide your jacket on and fix your face - but ultimately takes your hand and holds it on the ride there. He brings it to his lap and you don’t pull away even though you seem to fidget the whole time. 
The bus finally stops in front of the park. It takes hardly any time, but Gojo finds he’s unable to let go of your hand so he doesn’t. Instead, he holds tight and lets you trail behind. You let him lead you quietly out back in the street. You give your thanks to the driver as the doors close. 
He can’t let go of your hand, though he knows now would’ve been a good time to do it. His grip only grows tighter. 
“Let's go find somewhere to sit,” He offers. You squeeze his hand this time and don’t look away. 
“Okay,” 
He tries to keep pace with you this time, instead of walking ahead. Your strides are shorter than his so he’s careful that you don’t fall behind. Your eyes still have that watery look to them but you’re no longer trembling from fear. Just the cold, if anything. 
And your heartbeat no longer sounds so hazardous. Gojo is still restless, still fidgety. His thumb is rubbing circles into your skin but it’s not really for you. 
You find a bench, eventually - in the middle of the long walk-way just a distance away from a playground. Gojo juts his chin out towards it, before turning over to look at you.
“Let’s go sit,” 
You nod as you walk together towards it. You sit first, and Gojo finally lets go of you. He sits besides you. There’s a minute where the whole world is deathly quiet. There should be something calm about it, but it isn’t. You’re no longer terrified, and a distance away. There’s no danger lurking in the dark and there’s no cars passing or children crying. 
Everything is calm and silent, but Gojo couldn’t feel more unease if he tried. He thinks he hides it well. But there’s that itch again, in a place behind his ribs he can’t reach into and he finds it hard to breathe. 
“So,” He starts, breaking the tension “I’m guessing it’s not a friend,” 
The stupid joke makes a smile appear on your lips. It’s small, but Gojo takes some comfort in it anyway. You wipe away your lower lash gently, a wet laugh leaving your mouth. 
“No, not a friend. He’s uhm… a parent from my school.” 
“The one who’s been bothering you for all these weeks?” Gojo supplies. You turn your head, eyes widened in surprise. Gojo lets out a breathy laugh. 
“You….knew?” 
“Not about him specifically, but I could tell something was bothering you,” He admits, and then adds “I always pay attention to my favorite person, you know?” 
The addition has you looking away, but Gojo doesn’t mind. You sigh, rubbing your face with your palms before leaning back against the bench with your head hanging off the edge. 
“He’s the parent of one of my students. Akio, he’s a good kid. A really well-behaved one but… too well-behaved. Never raises his hand, never complains or says he won’t do something.” 
“I’m guessing that sent off an alarm bell, huh?” 
You nod softly. 
“Yeah. I figure it was something at home, but I’d met his mom prior and she was a real angel. Then, his dad came to visit. The man we met at the store, and I knew right away.” 
Gojo feels his jaw clench listening to you talk. 
“But still, you know, my job as a teacher is to be as respectful as I can. I always politely declined him when he would make comments and remained professional. Eventually, his mom stopped coming altogether and—I tried, I really—but he…” You trail off, a lump in your throat. He watches as tears form in your eyes, his anger getting more and more tangible. He tries not to express it, putting a hand on your knee “He just… kept pushing. A-and once, he looked like he was gonna get violent. I made a report, you know, to the school. But you know how they are,” 
“They never even bothered investigating huh,” Gojo sneers. You laugh a tired sort of laugh. 
“Of course not. After that, I just tried to endure it. And I know he hasn’t done anything technically, but it doesn’t really feel like a matter of if but when,” You explain haphazardly.  Gojo squeezes where his hand rests. 
“I believe you. It’s okay,” He says as soothingly as he possibly can “It’s okay. I’m here,” 
There’s a sense of relief that washes over your whole body and before he knows it, you’re breaking down. He feels a lot of emotions all at the same time, watching your little frame as you lose it so easily in front of him. A part of him is so furious he wants to make it everyone's problem. Another part of him is so deeply sad knowing you’ve suffered all on your own. 
And the most notable part of him is the sense of protectiveness, burrowing inside of him. A sense of possession. It sinks into him like teeth, seeps into his blood like the venom of an animal so that he bleeds and breathes it. Gojo can’t shake that deep sense of urgency, a nameless and faceless desire that consumes him. He shudders.. He holds it in, all of it. Cups his hands so desperately so that it doesn’t spill over and touch you, the ink of ruining the soft white of your clothes. 
In a world that you have made beautiful, desire is ugly. Hideous and infectious, it tears Gojo limb from limb. It makes Gojo feel on edge. Gojo should not desire for any more than what he was. People always die when he does. 
But maybe they don’t have to. Maybe, he can protect you. He can keep you safe. He wants to keep you safe. He wants to keep you all to himself.
It’s in an effort to soothe those feelings that his arms find themselves around your form. It’s the first time you’ve hugged in such an intimate way. Where expects you to turn away - you don’t. 
Instead you cling, your arms around his jacket and your face in his chest. You cry and weep and sob and you look so small like that. You look like you’ll collapse and Gojo holds you. Says it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay as you let it all out. It must feel good to finally let it all out, after everything and he doesn’t intend to stop you. 
“I promise I’ll always protect you from now on,” And he says it, and means it. If you feel the weight of his statement, you don’t let it show “It’s okay. You can cry if you need too,” 
You cry and cry and cry. 
And Gojo thinks the call of heaven is nothing in comparison to the sound. 
__
In the end, Gojo can’t forgive him. 
It’s not without effort. He tries to do it at your request, because after all the tears he wants to help. He says he can maybe pull some strings. But that gentle heart you have declines. You don’t want it to become a big deal. You feel a little better knowing he knows. In the end, you don’t want it to affect that brats reputation. 
“You know how kids can be,” You say, voice full of concern for everyone but yourself “I don’t want to make school life anymore difficult than his life at home must be,” 
So, Gojo tries to listen to you. But days pass, and days turn into weeks. In the end, a month goes by and Gojo is full of terrible and divine anger. 
In the end, Gojo won’t forgive him. Gojo can’t let it go. He feels so righteous in it, he starts avoiding his own eyes in the mirror. There’s something inside of them he has no desire to look at. Eyes that tell all, Gojo turns away from their gaze. Gojo is angry for you, and it’s not in his character to do nothing about it. 
He decides on less of a whim that it looks. He wonders about alternatives, if there’s anything that can stop this feeling from imploding inside of him but nothing comes.
When he decides that nothing can be done, Gojo goes out of his way to start watching him. 
Like any mission, he needs enough background information to map out a plan.  He wants to make sure that it has virtually no pushback for you. There’s always a possibility you’ll get caught in the crossfire and that’d be the worst possible outcome. Gojo can protect you from a lot of things, but he’s not as confident about the law. 
(Not that he can’t. Just not in the good, right way he’s sure you want him to protect you in. Gojo’s love is divine, not right. There’s nothing in this world Gojo can’t shield you from, because he’s the strongest.)
 He also can’t make anything obvious or leave any room for interpretation. If there’s anything that feels off when the reports go live - you’ll stick your nose where it doesn’t belong. He thinks in the instance you find out (about all of it, the premeditation  especially) you’d probably tuck your tail and run. 
(Gojo would find you. But the chase means there’s some time you’re apart. The thought is almost nauseating.) 
He likes that you’re curious about everything. In most instances anyways. But he thinks it’s better to leave you in the dark sometimes. Having you worry about it would ruin the point of this. And sometimes, it’s better not knowing every detail. Honeytraps are more ethical than nets. 
He’s doing it for you in the end, like he does most things. And the kid will benefit, maybe even get some sympathy from his classmates for a while about the tragedy that befell his father. Gojo thinks it’s a good plan because no one loses.  It’s a lot like killing a curse. 
It only takes two weeks to learn virtually everything there is to know. A guy like that doesn’t have much he can hide. 
The name of his target, he learns, is Nobu Watanabe. Father to Akio Watanbe and ex-husband to Akiko Watanbe. He’s a recently released felon (let off on good behavior) with a battery and assault with a deadly weapon charge. He’s a college drop-out, and has been working a lot of odd-jobs since he was 16.
His personality is bad, worse is his drinking and smoking habits. He’s often found drunk in the street, and has a track record for single nights spent in a cell. His ex-wife is usually the one bailing him out. Gojo can’t help but feel sorry for her. Somehow, he doubts that he’s good to her. He’s a deadbeat father through and through. He only offers to pick up his kid to harass you. At least from what he can tell. 
He isn’t as awful to his kid as everyone else. Gojo doubts that was always the case. Akio isn’t a bad kid, but it’s hard not to notice the way the light in his eyes disappears when his father comes around to pick him up. A head always looking towards the floor, hands tucked in his pockets. 
It’s difficult for Gojo to feel any guilt about what he’s doing. After everything, he can’t find it in himself to feel any regret. 
His target is currently working at a dock, not too far from the city. He seems to work there most days, working at a bar on the weekends. It’s a big company that handles foreign goods that he does physical labor for. Lifting and moving boxings, checking inventory - it’s not a complicated affair. 
If there’s not a major shipment, he still seems to clock in so he’s definitely paid some kind of hourly wage. He smokes often on the job, but works diligently when there is something to do. An easy but physical job, he’s strong. Gojo can understand what intimidates you about him. 
Gojo, though, isn’t intimidated by him at all. 
He waits a week before he takes action. To shake off anyone or anything that might be trailing him, and to make sure that everything is the same as he observed. That his schedule wasn’t going to change. A week passes, and when Gojo has confirmation - he decides to do what he does best. 
Gojo Satoru decides to play God on a Sunday.
Sunday is a day shipments come in and a day he often works alone. The pay is better on Sunday and Nobu is the only one on his shift who takes it. He’s not expected to finish the strenuous work because he’s alone for such a long stretch of time - just to make a dent in it. The people at the next shift are the ones who finish the job. 
He starts his day as early as 6am. It’s near winter, so the world is painted in a miraculously melancholy blue. Gojo follows him that morning. He knows the route well enough to trail behind him and not attract any attention. They pass together, turning corners and taking bus rides until Nobu’s finally in at his job. 
There, they part briefly. His target goes into the big white building and he goes on top. Gojo has to teleport to the roof because everything is gated with security cameras covering every inch of the property. Following him puts Gojo at risk. So he waits on top of the building, hands in his pocket and pacing until Nobu comes out the otherside to the docks. His jumpsuit put on haphazardly, only half-pulled up to his waist, with a clipboard and pen as a bunch of boxes waiting for him to check them. 
After Gojo confirms that he’s alone, he lies in wait. He sits and waits - watching as the clouds pass. Watching the open sea, how it remains unchanging no matter what boats pass through to shore. He looks at his phone every now and again to check the time. 
It shouldn’t be too difficult to actually do it. 
You know, if Gojo turns his infinity on, there’s nothing in the world that can touch him. He can touch it, but it can’t touch him. There will always be a barrier between his hands and the world. Between him and the known universe, a bridge that started burning the minute Gojo was born into it. If Gojo turns on his infinity, there’s no way to leave traces of him behind. 
Did you know? If Gojo turns on his infinity, his fingerprints don’t show up. There’s no DNA to find. Not a trace of him in the world that he hasn’t left purposefully. Even if Gojo chokes him with his hands bare hands - he wouldn’t be touching him. But Gojo can feel it. Feel his pulse, feel his breathing come down slowly.
If there’s such a thing as heaven or hell, Gojo wants to ask God about being homicidal. If it was a flaw of human design or their Lord reflected inside of them. 
He lies in wait on top of the roof until 7. 
When 7 hits, the world around him is still so dark. No one kills in broad daylight. The heavens are murky, sky full of black clouds like puffs of smoke. It’s freezing cold, a spine-tingling chill making its way up Gojo’s skin and hardening his hands. . Gojo waits for the doors of the garage to creak open. When the sound echoes into the air, a metal screech in the void, Gojo stands to his feet. 
He jumps to the ground, landing with a dull thud. He comes out unscathed, a cat on his feet. He dusts off the front of his pants. Nobu hasn’t taken notice of him. Gojo takes a look around them. There’s no cameras in the warehouse. Gojo waits alone in the dark. 
Five minutes. It’s five minutes when all of the lights go out. 
“What the fuck?” Nobu mumbles, dropping his clipboard on top of a bunch of boxes, running a hand through his hair. Gojo waits in silence, watches as he turns around. 
When he finally does, he jumps back in shock. Gojo feels a cold chill run through his body. 
“What the fuck? Who the hell are you?” Nobu asks. Gojo grins. 
“Ah, you don’t remember? We met a few weeks ago! We had a nice little exchange and everything.” He says, voice going higher by an octave. The man in front of him stares, off put by Gojos’ presence. He stumbles in his thinking, his body tensing up. 
“Who the…what the fuck is going on?” 
“Hey, don’t be so scared,” Gojo says, then uses his teleport to phase himself closer. Nobu’s eyes widen, shocked. Scared out of his wits, with the story of heartbeat like he’s being hunted. “Tough guy like you has nothing to be scared of, does he?” 
“W-w-what…how did you…” 
Gojo shakes his head. 
“Don’t worry about it, man.” He says, voice calm and smooth and even. He’s surprised by how his emotions feel in his body. Like he’s so angry that he’s not. There’s something inside of him, the white waters that wade, that Gojo can feel. It’s strange “We’ve got about 5 minutes till the lights come back on.” 
For a while, they stand at a draw. No one moves. Not him, or Nobu, or the open oceans. It’s quiet for a dock. Even quieter for a dock in Tokyo, and Gojo’s not even using his abilities. He probably won’t need too, other than infinity - there’s not any good reason for him to exert himself any more than he must. 
Weeks of planning, weeks of watching, weeks of waiting. Nothing feels like it matters at the moment. He wants it to be over soon-ish. 
It’s not that Gojo is particularly sadistic. 
It’s just that, everything feels like it’s teetering over this very moment. He thinks it to himself quietly like someone trying to remember where they last left their keys. 
Briefly, Gojo thinks “I can’t go back,” after this. In the back of his head he just knows.
He envies this aggravating strangers' ignorance, too. 
“What do you want from me?” He says, stuttering - a gasping breath of fear in his lungs that snaps Gojo out of his thoughts. Gojo shrugs. 
“Nothing, really. I’m not short on money, you know? I make a good living,” He says, spouting off about nothing as he closes the gap between them. Stepping closer infinitely until Gojo backs him into the garage, into the tall tower of boxers where there’s no cameras and no witnesses “Hm…is there anything you can do to fix this?” 
No, Gojo answers mostly to himself, But wouldn’t that be nice? 
“P-please, I have—” 
“A son right? And an ex-wife, and a dead mom in Saitama. You didn’t think I came here without doing any research, did you? We’re the same in that way you know, I might be a frivolous - but hell if I’m not diligent,” 
He looks like he’s going to throw up. Gojo remains indifferent. 
“Who are you?” He asks, this time really wondering. With that hoarse voice of curiosity, of defeat.
Gojo hums.
“Good question. Who do you think I am?” Gojo poses and lifts his hands up. He puts them around his neck, pushing hard until his back is against the stack of boxes. It’s dark but Gojo can see everything. He keeps his open, tightening the grip of his hands slowly. 
Nobu tries to spit something out but the words get sputtered, muffled by lack of oxygen. 
“Do you think I’m a devil? An angel? God? I wonder,” Gojo says, staring. With his mask on, but his eyes opened wide. “Guess I’m kind of like a boogeyman,” 
Gojo can feel it. His body underneath his palms, gasping and struggling for air. He can feel his hands try to pry his hands off. He can feel his body slowly start to lose its air, how he deflates like a balloon. Gojo is unmoving, unfazed, unworried. He’s near motionless except the hard grip of his hand on his neck and the pulse that slows gently under his palms. 
It takes 5 minutes, maybe less, with all the strength in both his hands. Gojo isn’t counting. He holds on for maybe 2 minutes after that, just to make sure it’s not a fluke. He waits till the heart stops sounding in his ears and until the body is completely limp except for where Gojo is holding him away. He goes out sad. Useless, even. 
When Gojo stops, Nobu’s body drops to the floor with a dull thud. He stares at it for a while, then sighs. It’d be nice if he could just leave it there, but he does his due diligence. Picks it up from the ground with relative ease, over his shoulders. 
He walks it out towards the dock - the very edge, before tossing it in water and watching it sink. When it disappears from his sight, Gojo is left with his reflection in the deep blue. He meets his eyes for the first time in weeks, and knows he’s seeing exactly what he thought he would. 
His anger has settled, just barely. Just enough to be able to see the change in his own vision. With his Six Eyes, Gojo can see that there’s no turning back.
 With his mask on, he looks at himself, warped in the vision of the sea. The vision of him—crystalline and white and blue—murky and moving. 
Gojo jumps to the roof and turns the light on again. The power comes back. 
A dog barks distantly, over and over and over. Gojo watches the sun rise alone. 
__
The following weeks pass without a hitch. Gojo feels like nothing has changed. 
(But that’s not true. Everything is different. The same but different)
At the two week mark, winter has set in and Gojo is spending time with you in your apartment together. Currently, you’re cooking dinner (after carefully instructing Gojo to stay put in the living room.) Gojo is sitting watching T.V. He’s helping you grade papers at the coffee table, humming to himself. 
It’s about 7 when the news starts to play. A local news channel and a familiar face on the T.V. Gojo is surprised when the breaking news report airs. 
“Two weeks ago, a missing persons report was filed for ex-convict Nobu Watanbe. Sources say he was last seen working at a Dock in Tokyo - which experienced a power outage. It’s reported that Nobu seemed to have gone missing at the time, and hasn’t made contact with anyone since then. Could this be the work of a…” 
The rest of the report  Gojo tunes out. He turns his head slightly to see if you’ve noticed. Your eyes are glued to it., standing and staring silently. You place your spatula on a towel on the counter.
“We got word about a week prior to this,” You say, breaking the silence after some time without Gojo prompting. He looks at you “Akio started coming with his mom again and she gave me the story. It wasn’t unusual for him to up and disappear, but he hadn’t done so since Akio was born,” 
“That so?” Gojo says, nonplussed. You nod. 
“I feel guilty but,” You trail off, rubbing your arm anxiously “I can’t help but be… relieved. Just a little. I don’t want the guy to be dead or anything, but it,” 
Gojo stops you in the middle of your sentence. 
“You don’t have anything you need to feel guilty about,” He corrects, voice stern. You give him a sad look but he remains firm in his stance “He was harassing you for weeks. It’s only natural that you feel relieved, you know?” 
You’re not entirely content with the response, but you seem to know well enough this isn’t something Gojo will compromise on. You sigh, looking down at the floor. 
“Yeah. That’s true I guess, but still. I wonder what happened to him, or if he just decided to run away,” 
Gojo pretends to think about it. 
“Maybe. Otherwise…guess it was God’s divine punishment,” He says, continuing to grade papers. He doesn’t even look up as he says it. You let out a puff of air through your nose in amusement . 
“Yeah,” You say, “Maybe. I should thank him some time,”
Gojo hums.
“I don’t think that’s a bad idea,” 
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lokh · 6 months ago
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what do you think toshiro's version of laios would've been like if he was still with the group during the shapeshifter shenanigans
there have been a few speculations in the tag and among the fans and they are all very good SO i am going to take this opportunity to insert a bit of my shipping bias as i like in my interpretation LMAO agdsfgdfgv
i noted that in actuality shuro seems to have a very good grasp on laios' character??? this is most obvious in the manga later on but even seeing how he criticises laios in their fight... iirc nothing he says is actually untrue or wildly exaggerated, and while he does express frustration over something he feels like laios Should have control over (noticing his cues), he is also aware that laios isnt being malicious and that hes Just Like That. what i mean to say is that while i think his version of laios may seem more pushy and in-your-face, i dont think it will be overwhelmingly so. if its post-fight, i think the idea of laios (and marcille) being willing to do anything to get falin back made a big impression on him, as well as the idea that they need to eat and rest in order to succeed in their goals, so those aspects would be prominent in his version. he seems pretty observant, so i think for the most part the physical traits would line up, but i think there would be specific things that stand out to him that would appear strangely striking on his version of laios (like. idk something about his eye colour or the subtle contrast of his armour and chainmail. he seems to have a weird sense of aesthetics if extras are anything to go by lmao). if hed actually been paying attention all those times laios had gone on about what the hell ever, then it might be even MORE hard to tell apart his version since he would also have a good grasp on what laios should know. so either his version of laios is pretty difficult to pick out, OR despite the character being accurate his appearance is too. stylised lmao (exaggerated features or something) OR!! they just get him to pull out his monster gourmet guide thing and are able to tell from there. iirc everyone was surprised at its appearance so its possible toshiro had also never seen it before
IN MY IMAGINARY SHIPPING SCENARIO............ lets say that his laios isnt able to be picked out immediately and that the monster guide thing also doesnt immediately occur to anyone. what the real laios Specifically notices is how close this other laios keeps getting to shuro. and hes like. ??? why is he getting so close to him, theres no way i get that close to him??? but no one else seems to be picking up on it as weird, so hes having a small crisis like do i REALLY get that close to him???? and now that hes on the outside he notices shuro subtly leaning away and he feels both a wave of shame and..... protectiveness??? (JEALOUSY??????) and he immediately steps in and grabs him like Hey!!! cant you see hes uncomfortable???? weve been through this already!!! and like. ok i cant believe im doing this again but i need to separate this into different endings
a) the whump route: i dont think shuro ever envisioned Actually Telling laios about his frustrations outside of being basically cornered into it. has he ever spoken up against what was expected of him?? has he ever been confrontational???? i think part of what held him back from expressing his frustrations, along with the cultural norms, could be fear of what the reaction would be. if he had done the same in any other aspect of his life (his family, his inheritance), i think he would expect disappointment, disapproval, more proof that he doesnt add up to expectation. to be honest i dont think he Truly believes that laios is the type of person to react like this. but it was strong enough to prevent him from acting and i think would be projected onto his image of laios. maybe fake!laios says something dismissive like Well if it really bothered him hed say something right? what, he cant even stand up for himself? cmon, shuro, prove that you cant handle it just like everything else. and thats pretty much the fastest giveaway that it isnt really laios. of course this would be a HUGE tonal departure from what the actual episode/chapter was, so:
b) the dumbass route: both laioses break into fisticuffs, and, yes.... barking. and so they speedrun the entire encounter as the shapeshifters true form appears and, after laios points out that thinking too hard about others versions of you can tear apart groups and peace of mind, they pointedly do not speak of it again. they think about it though. a LOT
c) the normal route: both laioses argue normal like and the group ends up being able to tell them apart because the fake laios goes on a little too long about how theyre all here for falin and everyones like ok its not like he DOESNT love his sister but.......... the rest of the scenario probably goes like canon, though then i would want to see what everyone Else thought of shuro
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autistic-katara · 1 year ago
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ok i might get blocked by a couple ppl for saying this but the Jackson’s Diary fandom is seriously making me wanna become a proshipper out of spite (read the post before blocking me or whatever please)
like idk if u guys have checked the fandom tag on ao3 recently but theres been a bit of drama surrounding the fact that someone posted a smut-fic of Exer (an 18yo) and David (an almost 18yo, who was aged up A FEW MONTHS for the fic) and they were harassed into taking it down and making a fucking apology post ON AO3, THE PROBLEMATIC FANWORKS WEBSITE.
and this fic was tagged 100% correctly like it was very explicitly tagged as smut n stuff yet there were still a bunch of comments being like “uhm what did i just read 🤨” and when i made a comment defending the authors right to yk, not be harassed for making not even rlly problematic content someone who clearly would suffer withdrawal symptoms if they turned twitter off for too long started arguing with me abt how “erm ackhtually we should be allowed to comment harassment under ppls harmless and explicitly tagged fics cause theres no smut in this fandom and it shocked us” and u could just rlly tell they felt they were more righteous than God in their opinions and yeah so cut to tonight when i’m scrolling through the tag and i see a post titled “i’m so sorry” in which the author made a post basically being like “i’m so sorry for posting that ik it was disgusting it has been permanently deleted” which in the comments a few ppl were telling them that what happened sucked n stuff (myself included // judging by their reply they only did this to stop the harassment which yk, completely fair) and i went back to scrolling since i wanted an actual fic not fandom drama but like 2 posts down there was another post titled “please stop” or smthn like that where someone else made a post basically being like “guyssss can we please not write smut of these characters this fandom is so wholesome i dont wanna ruin it 🥺 anyways sorry this isnt a fic this just needed to be said lol” and like dude, my guy, WHAT THE FUCK?!
this is AO3, this is a fanwork archive that as far as i know was created (at least partially) due to the fact that ppl kept getting their “problematic” works taken down from other sites and the creators wanted to yk archive all fanworks. this is NOT a social media site where u can make callout posts abt how what someone else posted disturbed ur pure wholesome chaste scrolling by daring to uploaded something with *gasp* consensual sex between 2 consenting adults?! (or canonically 1 consenting adult and 1 consenting gonna-be-an-adult-in-a-few-months-but-isnt-much-younger-than-the-first-guy but u get the idea)
like guys, ao3 is not twitter. it is not tiktok, it is not tumblr, its not youtube, its not even wattpad. it is not a social media platform, it is a fanwork archive, specifically one that lets u post whatever kinda content u want (yes, even smthn depicting 2 consenting adult/almost adult participates that are in no way related having sex, ik its crazy what they allow online these days).
and look honestly the callout post wouldn’tve annoyed me this much if it was posted on yk an actual social media. like if it was posted on twitter or tiktok or on youtube as a video essay or even on here, like sure if i saw it id be annoyed that this fandom cant handle the tiniest bit of non-puritanicalism and fuck, maybe if it was on here id even drag myself into a pointless days-long argument that causes me suicidal levels of stress but on archive of our fucking own itself?! for the millionth time, IT IS NOT A SOCIAL MEDIA! u dont make posts like that that u want the rest of the fandom to read or whatever on there because its not that kinda website!
anyways yeah i hope i explained the situation ok, u might be able to check it out urself if u feel like it and yeah idk this whole thing just kinda felt like a wake-up call for me like yes i find incest and pedophilia disgusting OBVIOUSLY and i dont like ppl romanticising it in fiction but idk i’ve seen ppl talk abt toxic antis before and show screenshots of conversations where theyve acted super shitty but idk seeing this all unfold in person and having to argue with these hardcore antis just- i dont wanna be associated with these ppl, if these are what alotta antis r like i dont want anyone to assume i agree with them like at all, whether its other antis, proshippers, or ppl like me who have a super complicated opinion on it. like they harassed a person into taking down their smut and made call-out posts on ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN abt how they dont want their wholesome pure fandom corrupted by gross dirty irredeemable sex. and just yeah hope no mutuals i seriously care abt unmoot or even block me over this since ik a few of u r antis but yeah srry for this i just kinda seriously hate this fandom right now :)
also incase anyone is typing out a “kill yourself pedo” reply/rb rn; i turn 15 on Friday, i am 2+ years younger than ur innocent bb minor boy David and his definitely not already a legal adult boyfriend Exer so yk
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feukt-42 · 25 days ago
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Yet another post about Leda
You know, its kind of funny, but I've been browsing ER fanfics and fancontent almost daily for a while now (pls help), and one thing I've noticed is that a lot of people just. do not want. to put Leda and the gang in their fanfics. The most out of all Miquella's followers I found was Ansbach with 68 fics on Ao3. Leda herself comes at second with 48 fics and the others just kind of fizzle out after that. By comparison, Messmer, another DLC character, already has 500 fics.
Now, I know that this in large part due to the Messmer horny. But still. There's been 1,372 fics released in the ER tag since the DLC released as of me writing this. That doesn't really explain it. A good explanation might be that souls fans like to dwell on the pre-canon lore era we don't get to see, but even then, I remain disappointed by the lack of Leda in those fics as well. I have read several Haligtree-or-adjacent-focused fics written post SotE and few of them feature Leda or the needle knights, which is honestly a shame because Miquella having his own order of knights (almost counterbalance to the cleanrots), is a very interesting idea, and I am starving for Leda interacting with literally any member of that cast, her whole deal is just so interesting. And its not like Miquella doesn't care about her and she's just a weird fanboy, he gave her a wholeass rune and shit.
"But OP," you might be asking, "why dont you just write your own fic then ?". And you see, that is an excellent point, but I am unfortunately a coward with no confidence in my writing skills. So instead, I decide to make this.
I hereby present :
My Leda facts/analysis/interpretation/theories collection !
I am making this mostly to gush about Leda to spark interest in her as a character and maybe give interested writers who have actual skill to use this to get some inspiration. By no means am I suggesting that this is a guide everyone should follow, this is mostly just my inane ramblings about a character i am obsessed with. Still, if it helps someone make something, that's a net positive in my book.
without further ado, let's get into it.
Part 1 : Miscellaneous Facts
Fact number 1 : Leda doesn't see grace (at least her character model implies so):
I don't remember where it was, but I remember seeing a post that had every SotE NPC's eye colour in it. And a cool thing about that was that only a few characters didn't have the grace of gold in their eyes. And I remember specifically getting to Leda, noble knight of Miquella, and finding out that her eyes do not have a single trace of gold in them. They are grey with a blood-red clouding.
And I just found that so interesting it made me make this post, because what does it mean ? How did she lose it ? Did she ever have it in the 1st place ? Some of you might be thinking it's because she follows Miquella and not the GO, but the funny part is that, again, most of the others have it !
Hornsent has it, Ansbach has it, Freyja has it, Ymir has it, Moore has it, even the fucking madding hand has it. So why doesnt Leda ? (this also goes for some of the other NPCs who don't have it but im not spinning them in my head like a microwave so too bad ig)
Fact number 2 : She definitely killed the other needle knights
Ok so I already talked about this somewhere but I don't remember where so let's just start over from the beginning. The description of the Retaliatory Crossed-Tree states there were once more Needle Knights but now there's only one left. Meanwhile, Leda's sword says it "still reeks with the stench of crusted blood that lingers from the cull of her knightly comrades". Love myself a good "can't wash away the blood" trope.
Anyways, I took those two facts together to mean that she killed the other Needle Knights and talked about it in that alleged prior conversation I mentioned, but someone else replied that her "knightly comrades" could very well mean Hornsent and Ansbach, whom she attempts to cull before you reach Enir-Ilim. And I wanted to disagree with that, but I didn't actually have any evidence except "it's funnier this way" so you know, fair's fair. Except ! No it isn't !
When you help kill Hornsent, she says this :
He never placed his full trust in me, even under the effect of Kindly Miquella's spell. He must've recognised something. The scent of the killer that slept within me. The stench of crusted blood.
Mind you, this is before killing Ansbach, and right after killing Hornsent. The crusted blood from the cull of her comrades cannot be theirs, meaning Leda did kill the other NKs.
Fact number 3 : She deadass just smells like blood the whole time we see her
As just stated, we have 2 items describing how Leda just smells like dried blood. This has endless comedic potential imo, hear me out :
You first meet this dignified, knightly woman in Mohgs arena. You don't notice anything wrong with her smell, because of course it smells like blood in here, have you seen the place ?
The next time you meet her is in Scadu Altus. You begin to think something does smell really bad here. It's still not her however, because the Hornsent and his canonically shitstained loincloth are standing like 10 meters away from you, likely overpowering the scent.
You only get to realize its her constantly smelling like blood after the charm is broken and Hornsent leaves, and that coincides perfectly with the reveal that she's just paranoid as fuck.
10/10 olfactive storytelling. I mostly just put this fact here in honor of that Bloodborne bosses ranked by smell post tbh, that shit lives rent-free in my brain.
Character analysis time ! This bit is more given to interpretation so feel free to disagree on this :
Shes really not that bloodthirsty you guys
Alright, so this one might be a bit surprising given we just went over the fact she smells like blood, but the popular interpretation of Leda doing this because she likes killing and shit is just dead wrong to me. I spoke about it before, but there are so many lines of dialogue that suggest otherwise. Hell, even the sword description says she tried her damnedest to get the blood to come off. Here are some of the most telling lines i found (from fextralife/the github with all the text from SotE) :
-Her describing herself as a "killer" in that line about hornsent and crusted blood earlier, she seems to be very blunt and honest about what she does, almost to a self-deprecating point.
-I know I shouldn't let myself... But I suppose it's only natural to feel the weight of one's deeds at times like these. There is plenty left to be done. And I will see to it. <- what else do i even add here
-I don't enjoy casting suspicion on anyone I've called a comrade. But it's a small sacrifice in the grand scheme of things. We must eradicate all doubt...
-None can deny Sir Ansbach was truly a great man. We can be proud, that we were the last opponents he ever faced.
-Sir Ansbach must have considered it an honourable end, being felled by your hand. After all, the good fellow held you in the highest regard. When we speak of it, we may speak with pride—that we were Sir Ansbach's final adversaries
Those lines seem to be alternate versions of the dialogue you get after helping her kill Ansbach. And oh my fucking goodness gracious, i fucking love the second one. Like ghhhhhh, the grief for a comrade and the guilt and the self-justification and the need to move forward and theres somehow even more blood on her sword that she can't ever wash off but she can't stop here, she has to keep doing this because its not about her for her, its not about her feelings or her guilt its all just for the greater purpose shes reaching towards arghhh its so good.
There's also a notable throughline of her shutting her emotions down more and more as she goes, whether its to better do her job or to follow in miquella's footsteps :
-Unruly emotions only lead to misfortune. All the more reason we need someone like Miquella the Kind.
-Man is a compassionate animal, for better or worse.
-So be it. If you insist upon facing Miquella the Kind, Then I will run you through, whoever you might be.
-A single betrayal, enough to turn the tides… Unfortunate, but I will leave you be, for now. 
-I expected things to end differently with you. What a pity
-I suppose it was Sir Ansbach who won you over. Fine. One more heart for my blade to skewer.
Side Note : Those three last ones also read like shes really salty about being betrayed, and that's really juicy because it feels like she trusted you. She trusted you a lot more than most of the others, so it really stings quite a bit to learn you were lying the entire time.
All in all, it really does feel like she has to shut herself down to be a better knight, a more efficient tool for Miquella to wield. It's also quite tragic because she seems to be a compassionate person at heart, she welcomes you into the club, she constantly tries to understand the reasonings for other people's actions, and she tries to find ways to let those she suspects off the hook :
-The hornsent, hmm. On one hand, he trusts Miquella the Kind to bring salvation to his people. With the enchantment lifted, his vengeful passions may once again ignite, but surely he'd be mindful of Kindly Miquella's promise... <- this reads like her trying to convince herself she doesn't have to kill him
It's also very interesting because despite that, she really doesn't seem to be much of a people person :
-But for this very reason, Thiollier is incapable of betrayal. St. Trina's love for Kind Miquella is boundless. She is, after all, his other half. Or perhaps her feelings go beyond even that. Even if she was left behind, I doubt her heart would waver. <- she's just deadass wrong about Thiollier and St Trina
-If you don't meet her before the charm breaks, she does a really awkward introduction and then immediately starts infodumping about her crippling paranoia and zealotry
-Ansbach straight up just tells you : So, you've taken Lady Leda's side. I'm glad she stands with an ally. She tends to overestimate the burden she might carry alone. This is straight up just "oh nice, you finally made a friend, im so glad for you". This implies that Ansbach didn't believe Leda really had anyone on her side before then, and she kinda doesn't tbh. No one is really here because of Leda in the final battle, Dane is here for Miquella, Freyja is here for Radahn, Moore is here to cope with existence, and Hornsent just has an (understandable) hate boner for everything Golden Order. She doesn't really have any friends.
(Also shoutout to Ansbach for being concerned about the people trying to kill him, he really is the goat fr. Also: I've utterly failed you both... No wait grandpa its not your fault im so sorry)
--the funniest moment in the DLC imo : I've come to a realisation... There's ample evidence... Without Kindly Miquella's influence... I'm quite mistrustful of others...
Ah yes of course, the trust issues. Where do I even start.
This woman has nothing but contempt for mankind as a species. She is, as stated earlier, compassionate and tries to be nice to people but she constantly assumes the worst of everyone as a reflex. Her trying to find a way not to kill Hornsent is only because she wholeheartedly believe he will be the worst version of himself as a baseline, and thus thinks of him as a threat who must be dealt with.
-I'm afraid Sir Ansbach will have to be next. He claims he hasn't the spirit to take up his sword again, But in his day, he was the feared commander of the Pureblood Knights, who cleaved open Miquella the Kind with his blood blade. But I doubt it'll be very long... Before he recalls, as I have, the cascading sheets of blood. <- no trust at all
-her dialogue about you "turning on her" also feel like she's resigned about it, like someone who came in expecting failure and was still disappointed, like why did i even try, i should really know better.
-That aside, man is by nature a creature of conquest. They were never saints. They just happened to be on the losing side of a war. <- the classic. What else needs to be said. These are the words of someone who takes war, violence and hatred as a given.
And that leads me to my next point. I think Leda has had a very violent life overall. Some of the shit she says sounds too specific to just be a generalisation:
-But vengeance changes a man.
-Unruly emotions only lead to misfortune.
-Before he recalls, as I have, the cascading sheets of blood.
-One more heart for my blade to skewer.  
-The scent of the killer that slept within me.
This all sounds like she's talking from experience, and there's also her skills as a knight : she has the highest hp pools of the gank squad and can 2-3 shot most players. I know gameplay =/=lore but Freyja respects the hell out of her: Lady Leda and honourable Ansbach are of a special breed.
It's a very interesting combination of an extremely skilled knight who is very good at killing, has presumably been living a very violent existence and who trusts no one but herself, but who also hates having to kill and feels really guilty about it, despite having to do it for the sake of her cause.
And I believe that is the crux of her purpose, and why she is going through so much to fulfill it at any cost:
Leda believes intelligent beings are inherently flawed , and can never be trusted to do anything but make each other suffer. Leda is tired of inflicting and receiving violence, and sees little purpose in seeing the good in others. Leda would have probably made a terrific Lord of Frenzied Flame with how little hope she has.
But instead, she found Miquella. Miquella, who dreams of an age of compassion and who is in a position to achieve it, Miquella, who was raised in an order built and maintained through violence and grew to abhor it. Miquella, who Leda probably sees herself in, who Leda trusts blindly and unconditionally, for whom Leda is ready to commit any atrocity, no matter how it makes her feel, because he is her lifeline. He is her very last hope, the only solution short of complete annihilation she can see for mankind to reach pace.
So what if that peace is forced, is all of this suffering truly worth what little free will we can exert onto our world ? Leda has seen what mankind does with its free will, and she is tired of it.
She doesn't care if she lives to see it, she doesn't care if she has to kill every last part of herself in order for the world to see peace. No one will miss her anyway, she's nothing but a blood-soaked murderer. It doesn't matter if she likes these people, friendship and trust aren't worth all this senseless violence.
So she'll keep killing and killing and culling, until her blade is dull with crusted blood and every last obstacle to Miquella's age of compassion is gone. That's what a Needle knight does, is it not ? Kindly Miquella fashioned us as his needles to quell all, to ward away all.
And if Miquella doesn't understand her, it doesn't matter. He's far too good to understand the sacrifices necessary. She'll do what he can't. The other needle knights did not understand this, they were too naive to do what has to be done, so they were a liability. Don't think about their betrayed looks of terror, don't think about the cloying stench of blood sticking to your footsteps, this is your burden, this is what you deserve. You already knew you couldn't trust anyone, why would this be different ?
If Miquella must cast away parts of his very being to have this world then so can you. So sever that part of yourself that says you should be nice, that you should trust those willing to help, it only makes things worse. It will all be worth it in the end.
Phew, i kind of went apeshit while writing that last part. I hadn't really planned all that honestly.
To conclude this essay, I'd like to point out a really fun parallel to draw here. In this analysis, I have described my interpretation of Leda as a very skilled self-loathing blood-soaked knight who is tired of their endless crusade and yet is endlessly pushed forward by their utter devotion to their god, their salvation made flesh, whom they will shield for the atrocities committed in their name by being the sole person to blame. If that doesnt remind you of Messmer, then i think ill just curl up into a ball and yell very loudly.
Thanks for reading till the end of this absolutely nightmarishly long ramble, let me know if you liked it ! And don't hesitate to send any Leda fics you find or write along the way !
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daedalusdavinci · 4 months ago
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29
29. Favourite fanfiction(s) of your ship(s)?
you may not know this already, but i have a recs tag where i post exactly this in depth! but i LOVE to boost my favorite fics, so ill do it all again, just for you anon <3 if you want more recs for any of these ships, i promise there are TONS in that tag, (or you can send me another ask for something more specific,) but ill stick to just my absolute top reads in this post
my favorite fanfictions of my favorite (homestuck) ships
starting under the cut bc it got long slkdjnfsjdfn
for halquius, the funniest hs ship-
Second Chances by @mtjester
Lil Hal never said anything about what it meant to be the AI avatar of the God of Heart. After he and Equius had split, everyone had assumed he would go back to Dirk and serve as a sort of spirit companion, the hyper-perceptive Shades of the God of Heart. But to that, he had simply responded, “Nah.” He stayed firmly on Equius’s face, and Equius asked him no questions about it.
this fic is so in character. it captures some of my favorite things about this ship, like how obnoxious they are and the very specific ways they click and enable each other. it also has an absolutely fantastic sequel! its short and funny, and always the first rec i drop for this specific ship.
(the second rec i would drop is my own fic, Hold Me (Accountable). its a space au with mechanic!equius and bounty hunter!AR, and i maintain that its hilarious and a must read if you like this ship at all.)
my resident favorite ship, eridave-
Lee Shore by @jumpingjacktrash
“I asked Egbert to ask you if you have Ampora’s new contact information.” “No, man, I didn’t even know the old info was old. How can you not have a contact for him? It’s not like he changed his chumhandle, email, and phone number all at once.” “As a matter of fact, that is apparently exactly what he did. And deleted his Facebook and his photo blog.” “Dramariffic.” In the years after the game, the twelve trolls and eight humans have tried to stick together, because no one else would understand. When Eridan misses one of their yearly reunions, Dave makes an impulsive decision to go find him.
ive said it before, and ill say it again. this is THE eridave fic. this is the one. if you only ever read one (and its not one of mine), it should be this one. i love how dave takes eridan seriously without enabling him, and how easily they both cut through each others bullshit. the handling of eridans character is DELICIOUS, and i literally think about his relationships with the other trolls in this fic all the time. i dont even know how many times ive read this fic but it goes so hard.
davekat, the classic-
Fait Accompli(cation) by @dragonomatopoeia on tumblr
In Which a Mutant and an Alien Meander Towards a Quadrant of Indeterminate Identity at a Glacial Pace While Examining the Internalized Toxicity Perpetuated by Their Respective Societies, and The Nature of Friendship is Determined to Be More Universal Than Originally Theorized [Banned In Alternia]
this is the quintessential meteor fic. its everything you could ever want in a meteorfic, and deals very heavily with karkat and dave unpacking toxic cultural ideas from their respective planets and coming to a new understanding of who they want to be together. its long, its slowburn, its everything, and the authors put SO much obvious effort and research into getting the voices just right, i still think about and admire it years and years later.
The Eurydice Suite, v2.0 by @callmearcturus
Dream-sharing: a highly illegal little industry in which agents delve into people’s dreams, and unearth their deepest secrets and memories. Within this business, the Strider-Lalondes are known as the best there is — until Dirk Strider gets his fool-ass trapped within the confines of his own subconscious, with his Auto-Responder playing malicious prison warden. To save him, the best and brightest dreamers in the world will have to form a team. Backed by the token rich friend, lead by the surliest extractor ever bribed out of retirement, haunted by the shade of the latest, greatest agent in the biz, and on the run through a dangerous tiered dream in a hostile mind… It’s going to take a miracle to pull this one off.
arc doesnt need any publicity from me, bigname that they are, but i gotta say of all of their fics this one is one i still come back to and reread from time to time all these years later. the au is really cool, and the drama is potent. karkat and dave have a very loaded and complicated, vaguely antagonistic relationship that takes time to get resolved, and you dont see that very often in davekat fics!
davekat, the superior-
Crash Standing by @asukaskerian
It’s been eight days since the end of Sburb and Davesprite is not coping especially well.
IVE SAID IT BEFORE ILL SAY IT AGAIN. BEST. HOMESTUCK FIC. dont look at how many times ive read this dont worry about it. davespritekat is just better than davekat, okay? im sorry. everything is better w davesprite. if youre a davesprite fan i dont even have to say anything else you already know youve gotta read this, but for people who arent- dude, this fic. its such a poignant snapshot of the awkwardness of teenagerdom, especially as a very traumatized teen, and the interpersonal relationships between characters outside of the main two are just so delightful. the john&dave&davesprite dynamic is one i think about constantly, and me and my friend STILL have running jokes about davesprite co< kanaya, which is perhaps the greatest thing to ever be invented, and we have fully incorporated the phrase "sparkle princess alone time" into our day to day vocabulary. i LOVE the gossip chumps, they are everything to me. underrated friendship.
another classic age ship, johndave-
play ball! by spacepuck
When Dave moves to Washington, he expects to spend the summer alone in his room until school starts. But when he stumbles on the sandlot, he discovers a baseball team needing one more player. He quickly gets dragged into the mix, but there's just one problem: he knows absolute dicksquat about the game. Luckily, John, the high school's best baseball player, swoops in to help. (this is basically a sandlot/baseball au. happy summer!)
ive actually been meaning to reread this one, since its been a long time. im adding it to my marked for later rn. i think of all the johndave fics i ever read, this is the one i think about the most years later. ive never read a fic that just. FELT like summer the way this one does. its intimate and sweet and its got the exact feeling of a hot summer night, lying in the grass and staring up at the stars with your best friend. when i read a johndave fic, i want some real fuckin falling in love with your friend as a stupid kid shit, and this is that
dirkjohn-
Vanitas Vanitatum by @oxfordroulette
You've determined the hobbies of the monarch you serve are as follows: 1. Ill-timed pranks. 2. Cooking. 3. Subconsciously pulling elaborate political schemes off perfectly, ad infinitum, every one of which inches his mind closer to some ineffable dark chasm you're curious to find the depth of. Anyway, he makes damn good lasagna.
when i tell you this is the best dirkjohn fic i mean nothing else has ever even COMPARED, and that includes my own goddamn fic. fuck ammfh, read THIS. its political intrigue and messy, MESSY relationships, and a john who is an absolute delightful trickster with serious fucking PROBLEMS. the john/vriska/dirk friendship in this is everything, and the design of the strilondes is so fucking cool??? im ngl i think about those blindfolds everyyy time i make an au. its magic, its kingdomstuck, its dnd, its got illustrations, its EVERYTHING. oxfordRoulette is like a fucking professional at writing fics where everyone kind of sucks and is super toxic and a little bit evil and its THE BEST. LOVE this fic
for bropsii-
just read anything by captorvatiing. just go do that. or read the entirety of the @askpsii blog again?? for the ten millionth time? and cry about how theres like no content.
all of my other favorite ships are too niche to have fics </3 lol. read MY fics, thats what you should do. just go read the fics for the tags that i personally started sldkjfnsdlfsdf
ALSO YOU SHOULD READ LET'S BE OUTCASTS BY @curlicuecal. this is the only time ill ever recommend anything thats incomplete but GOD ITS SO GOOD. i wont say anything else. just that its SO. GOOD. and if you like hal or the exiles you will LOVE this
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the-bonfires-ember · 4 months ago
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ive been thinking about that thing people say about mental illness. yknow, 'its not a part of your personality' 'dont make it your identity' etc
but when you have a personality disorder, that doesnt really make sense anymore.
which makes my feelings on cluster b pride flags a little conflicted. coz, sure, it is fundamentally a part of your personality and certainly shapes your identity, but something about pride flags has always been off to me. perhaps especially as a person with aspd.
now, sure, on the one hand i get it. theres something appealing about having that kind of validation that you arent alone, especially when you are constantly masking and shifting who you are to fit the situation best.
we might have antisocial personality disorder but we are still, at our core, social creatures. we still desire community, we're just also afraid of it.
so yeah, a banner of community and others 'like us' seems fair enough, right?
BUT
theres still something... off to me about it. what it was, exactly, only came to me after a discussion with my partner about DID and PluralKit - yeah i know, im diving into plural drama now, lfg i guess
they showed me an infographic about the process of DID recovery which showed the progression from very disconnected and separated identities to a more blended 'final fusion' (a term they take issue with but thats a different story). i said that PluralKit must be confusing for people on the later ends of the spectrum they were showing me because, at that point, how do you tell who is blending with who? when the lines are blurry, how do you know who to tag yourself as? it seemed like an inhibitor to recovery if you were constantly cutting yourselves off from each other. (this is not me saying anything one way or the other about plurals and recovery in DID or whatever the fuck else, im just using this as an example. stfu i dont care about your opinions on any of this so dont waste your breath)
i think my feelings on aspd flags is somewhat similar. coz i mean, they are pride flags, right? and i think if you are taking pride in being aspd then you are far more likely to lean into your symptoms, and i think thats a slippery slope to go down and has just a very 'anti-recovery' vibe, if you know what i mean.
with that all said, i also very much think that if you dont want to recover, you dont have to. i dont think you can force anyone to recover and i dont think you should even try to. recovery is fucking shit and its hard and if you arent ready for it, you are just going to hurt whoever you are trying to make recover.
but i also think that you can have that opinion, whilst also being a voice for recovery, and be against 'anti-recovery' thinking.
because look, like it or not aspd is a fucking disorder. and at some point that becomes unhelpful or it wouldnt be a disorder. symptoms of aspd are debilitating and pretending otherwise that helps nobody. especially with all the 'all pwASPD are evil' scum out there.
so yes, i think the pride flags are... unhelpful at best and harmful at worst. but what about the other stuff? the creatures alla tbh creature and the plushiedreadful rabbit? (i think both of those designs suck btw but thats not the point)
idk those feel like they are in a different category. theres not really a sense of pride in those, more a sense of comfort. again, community, but also a sort of softness(??) that the pride flag things seem to miss - especially when they are like 'vampire aspd' or 'evil aspd' or any of the other bullshit things ive seen out there. i guess they are also just way more 'mental illness' coded than pride flags are.
pride flags have always been a 'we're here and theres nothing wrong with us' kind of thing. but the creatures and the bears are more lighthearted and sort of making fun of the conditions a little bit. highlighting symptoms and coping mechanisms. just look at the imocreature - specifically the worm one which is my favourite - and the way its able to be so pathetic looking and cute. its not meant to be cool or badass or whatever else, its just a lil guy that gets sad without supply.
which, yknow, relatable.
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devondespresso · 3 months ago
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🌸Writing Patterns🌸
tagged by @hbyrde36 and @penny00dreadful thanks guys!! 💕💖💞 I only have 8 unique fics posted so far, one of which I've kinda let get buried because I've been meaning to change the ending (for long enough that I've forgotten specifically what i hated so much about it lol)
<< dividers by @/thecutestgrotto >>
rules: share the first line of your last ten published works or as many as you are able and see if there are any patterns!
Tumblr media
🌸 Restless (Eds, Go to Fucking Sleep): The small bed shook again, the third time in the past minute. Few minutes. Steve had no fucking idea.
🌸 Sweet and Spicy: Steve was going to die.
🌸 Chicken Noodle Oops: Steve nearly missed the trilling doorbell, covered by the echo of own damn coughing.
🌸 Since We're Alive Now: Chrissy walked towards the hospital doors with her pink pocketbook in one hand and the black guitar case in the other.
🌸 Mr Crayola Henderson: Steve went to duck inside the house, holding the door open for Aunt Tracy on her way back out into the backyard where the majority of the gathering was taking place.
🌸 I Can Only Hope Now: Claudia Edine Henderson never wanted to get married. Not really.
🌸 My Sunshine: Steve is 8 years old again.
🌸 Never Again: Her heart was racing, her mind tuned into every touch and feeling, electric excitement buzzing in her skin at the soft kiss they shared by her bed.
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I usually don't put a lottt of thought into First Lines in the perfect hook "grab-your-audience-by-the-collar-and-dont-let-go" kinda way, so its interesting to look at them all together!! (tho im a littleeee afraid of them being lackluster put together like this)
i do know i try to include character names somewhere in the first paragraph, and seven to one isn't bad! i think its also so funny that six of the eight first lines start with the pov character's name.
I also seem to default to long lines unless I'm going for something specific, like how My Sunshine's first line is very theme-heavy and mirrors the last line, and Sweet and Spicy's first statement is supposed to be comically misleading.
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tagging (no pressure ofc 💕): @marvel-ous-m @sourw0lfs @pearynice @puppy-steve @kikidoesfanfic
@queenie-ofthe-void @carolperkinsexgirlfriend @eriquin @hairstevington @hotluncheddie
@dreamwatch @klausinamarink @lightoftheseraph @findafight @flowercrowngods
@tinytalkingtina 💕
And anyone else that wants to join!!
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skreebs · 2 months ago
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Thinking about the ableism toward Jouno in the BSD fandom and it genuinely pisses me off so badly I want to hit people. I’ll be perusing the tag and looking at stuff and then I’ll see some random pop ups for AO3 and get shit like this
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Now I don’t 100% know the context of this screenshot, for all I know this fic could be about him before he lost his sight, but either way it got me thinking and thinking got me angry and being angry means i need to complain. Jouno is already pretty shit blind rep, I’ll be honest. He’s the basic stereotype of “blind character has super senses because they’re blind” but can we give blind people literally ANYTHING else??? jesus christ. I’m pissed how BSD writes his blindness so as per usual I had to attempt to fix all of that myself, but attempting to fix it and removing it entirely are NOT the same and one is VERY MUCH SO WORSE. Again, not talking about this fic specifically but other ones I’ve seen that do this, or those “Jouno if he could see” edits. Spoiler alert, blind people can open their eyes.
I dont know why BSD and every other piece of media is so adamant on not giving visually impaired and blind characters white canes and just giving them "super senses" to get around it. It’s incredibly stupid and abelist to portray stuff like this. Disabilities are not super powers and thank GOD they didnt make that his ability but they still gave him that aspect and I guess it can be excused with SOME lore stuff like maybe he got really good senses from his surgeries but it just sucks that it happened that way at all? And then they don't even touch on how horrible having incredibly hightened senses to the point you can HEAR blood would be?? can you imagine hearing everyone internal organs around you 24/7 EVERYDAY? No one talks about that at all. That would be so fucking overwhelming its genuinely insane. Jouno is such a dear character to me, but genuinely when I remember him in canon without any of my headcanon explinations it’s just really sad that all I can say about him as representation is "well.. it could be worse".
I know there’s going to be at least one person saying “theres good blind rep in other shows though!!” Yes! I know! I’m super glad about that! But ignoring the bad ones doesn’t help much. You need to point out the issues to get good results. Recently, and by recently I mean about 17 hours ago, I watched/listened to the first episode of Daredevil, once with audio descriptions, and then after I watched without AD and had captions. I’m super glad that things are more commonly getting AD—it’d be a bit pathetic if the show with a blind main character was not accessible to blind people—but even with Daredevil, Matt still falls a bit into this stereotype.
Don’t get me wrong, seeing a character with a white cane has me absolutely elated, but from the single episode I’ve seen and what I’ve heard, he apparently also has some sort of super senses, and I know in the first episode he can hear heartbeats. I think super senses as a power is fine, but it’s just the fact they always give it to the blind characters. I, myself, am not blind, nor am I really visually impaired, I just wear glasses. However, as someone with a special interest in disabilities and also as someone that is disabled in other ways, seeing disabled rep fall into stereotypes over and over just really bums me out sometimes.
I think Daredevil is great so far from this one episode, I’ll probably be looking at more of it, but that is definitely just one gripe I have with it. I think Charlie Cox putting a bunch of effort into the role with the method acting and talking to people in the blind community and just all of that is amazing, I love to see that in anything, it’s just urrghh that it’s so hard to find a blind character that doesn’t have some kind of insane superpower senses with things. It reminds me of when characters with autism are so frequently portrayed as geniuses or their autism is only acceptable if it helps the neurotypical cast with “gadgets” or something. I dunno. Hard to explain, it’s 11 at night and I’m tired. Just don’t be ableist in any fandom or in real life. I shouldn’t have to even point out why this shit is disgraceful.
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themoodyestj · 14 days ago
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who do know having an anti tag is showing hate towards a person right? if you want to critisie by all means critises but spreading hate and having tags such as anti misha or anti jensen (don't lie, i know you use that tag) is psreading hate and that is toxic. Funny thing you say you love Jensen but twist his words, or completly ingore what he says to fit your own aganda.
You know, Anon, no joke or sarcasm here, this is actually something I have been giving a lot of thought about.
The truth is, no matter how much I dispise ones actions, I dont truly hate them. I have no reason to personally hate Misha or Danneel, I just find their actions despising. But hate, as it would affect my personal life? I really don't. They don't matter much, anyway. Where I come from only SPN fans know who Misha is, and Danneel? You have to be a hardcore fan to even recognize the name.
Very small fish indeed.
If anything, Im more anti the fans that fave these people and act like obnoxious entitled jerks and make it a hobby harrassing other people in their blogs. These are what Im actually anti about.
And I never used an anti-jensen tag, not that I can remember. Probably you're mistaking me with one of my mutuals, and as hard as it may be for you to believe, I'm not one of them.
Anyway, maybe you're right. The anti tag may not suit me, although its handy, because it's used often. It's also easier for people who dont want to read my blog to block. I have never inforced my opinion on others. There are other blogs for that. So maybe ill focus on the tags "anti fanaticism", "anti delulus" (this one coined specifically for the most agressive asks) and adress the tags regarding Misha and Danneel with something else. I just dont know what yet. I'm open to suggestions.
PS: See how I was respectful to you in my answer? I always am if people are respectful to me. I will never judge anyone by who they fave, I judge them by their actions. You are welcome to come in my inbox and discuss things with me. Thats why I say I'm probably not anti Misha, not to the extent of bullying others for their fave. Im anti fanatics.
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