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runa-falls · 1 year ago

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scratches and bites - 3

pairing: miguel o'hara x reader

warnings: explicit 18+, use of demeaning names, biting/marking/scratching, use of venom, a small amount of blood, unprotected sex, creampie (whoops), cumplay (whoops 2x), slight size kink (whoops 3x), bondage (0-0), feelings (bleh), needy wittle miguel :P

a/n: uhhh, this may have gotten away from me -- went from 1k to 4k real fast (or slow bc i'm a slow writer hehe)

summary: miguel o'hara is a grumpy man and you make him grumpy. you regularly go against his orders, create chaos, and invite danger. this is what happens when he's had enough.

w/c: 4.2k

series masterlist | main masterlist

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“Clean-up crew is on the way. You,” He points sharply in your direction, “come with me.” He roughly passes by you, purposely clipping the edge of your shoulder.

You sulk slightly and follow him into the portal, mood effectively ruined.

Everything worked perfectly in your eyes. You were able to save the family and a few people inside the building. You even had time to pick up a free hotdog.

“It’s on the house for you, Spider-Woman! Thanks for saving the day!”

“Aw, thanks, dude.”

Of course, before you could take a bite of your well-earned lunch, O’Hara’s hulking figure was standing over you. He’s angry.

Gwen wisely scurried off before you all got to the portal and Jess had better things to do than deal with whatever was going on between the two of you. So you’re effectively alone now. Great.

“The fuck did you think you were doing out there?” Miguel’s voice booms off the high ceilings of his office as he leads you toward his desk. He has this pretentiously slow platform that he loves to use to look down on people. You feel like a student that got called to the principal's office. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed–or worse, gotten someone else pulled into your fucking mess.”

You roll your eyes as soon as he passes, “Oh, come on O’Hara, you were about to bail on a car full of people and left a bunch of workers in the crumbling building because nothing is more important than your dumbass box of scraps and wires!”

He turns stiffly, jaw clenching at your words, but his eyes roam to anything else in the room but you. Like always. “You know we’ve been looking for that equipment for months. If we have any chance to hold back this multiverse annihilator even a few days, we’re gonna take it.” Miguel is as curt as ever, stance stiff as he tries to pretend he’s unaffected. Like he’s convincing himself he’s doing the right thing. And what you did was wrong.

“There were four of us out there, Miguel,” His eyes briefly meet yours at the sound of his given name. Something he has rarely heard you say since you’ve been in Nueva York. “The package was barely a struggle for one of us! You’re telling me we needed four hands to locate and retrieve that shit?” You gesture over to the crate resting on his computer platform.

He sighs like he’s tired of hearing your voice. Tired of being in the same room as you. His hand smooths over his face, “That’s not the point, Kid.” You could feel warmth blooming inside of your chest at his choice of words. It’s demeaning, and he knows it. As much as you hate him right now, you’re also loving this. You’re finally getting the chance to express all the frustration he’s inspired in you. And it’s satisfying to watch him get all wound up because you actually made the right move. He just can’t admit it.“What you did was beyond idiotic. You could’ve–”

“Well, I didn’t. And I’m not a fucking kid.” You spit out the words. His eyes immediately darken as you raise your voice. Bright cherry to rich blood.

Miguel rolls his shoulders back from annoyance and briefly closes his eyes. Irritated. You seem to always irritate him. His jaw is tight, and right under his full top lip you can almost make out– “What did I say about interrupting me?” He’s seething, head tilted slightly as pushes away from his desk and off the platform to you.

His deep voice is so low that you swear you can feel it surrounding you, vibrating the warm air that clings to the thin treads of your suit. “You’re so…” His fists clenched tightly and tension rolls off of him, crashing into you like a wave. “Difficult.” You try to stay brave and hold your head up, unwilling to cower under his superficial anger. “So fucking irritating.”

This is getting nowhere.

“So that’s why you called me in, hm?” Your voice comes out more breathless than you intended, but really, it’s his fault. This whole time he’s been inching closer and closer to you, taking up all your space. “To call me petty names? Tell me all the things that are wrong with me?” You have to crane your neck to maintain eye contact with him, he’s so close.

“No.” He drawls the word, his voice deep and muffled. Then you realize. His fangs. The stark change of the air in the room was enough to make your breath hitch. You suddenly feel trapped.

“I brought you here,” There are only a couple of inches separating your chest from touching his and you swear you can feel his body heat radiating off of him, almost simmering under his suit. “To teach you a lesson.” He leans down slightly, closing in the height distance between the two of you. You haven’t been this close to him since that night.

“W-what kind of lesson?”

“The kind that’ll persuade you to follow the rules.” Your knees nearly buckle as each word is lightly whispered next to your ear. He keeps his hands to himself, but it still feels like he’s wrapping himself around you. “To listen to me. Like a good girl.” Just as your body begins to mirror his and lean into his space, he backs up and strolls back to his desk.

Your eyes instantly lower and stay locked onto his spotless steel floors as you listen to him slowly walk away. You feel your face heat in embarrassment as you become more self-aware of the way your body reacted to him. He hadn’t even touched you.

“Come here.” Your head tilts up slightly at the sound of his voice. He’s sitting back on his desk chair, legs spread confident and inviting as he watches you watch him through hungry eyes. He can tell your mind is brimming with overlapping thoughts as you decide whether to listen to him or not.

Some part of you worries you’re being lured into a trap. That O’Hara, one of the least genuine people you know, is playing with you. But your body doesn’t really seem to care, already moving until your ankles meet the edge of the barely floating platform. The air around you is cool and empty without his presence. Your body craves more of Miguel’s natural heat.

“...Closer.” You shuffle over until you’re a couple of feet away, fingers twisting together with uncertainty. He’s looking at you, leering at you. Virtually devouring you with that scarlet stare of his. If he wanted, he could reach over and pull you closer, eliminating the space between you, but he decidedly doesn’t, clearly wanting you to come to him.

“Don’t worry, honey, I don’t bite – oh wait,” He grins at his own joke, fangs proudly poking out from under his plump lips. You don’t realize how hard you're biting your lip until it starts to seriously sting. Your teeth release your aching lip and his gaze follows the action before meeting your eyes.

“Unless you want me to.” You haven’t uttered a word in a while and you don’t really want to. You’re completely content to continue to soak in the words that slip from his tongue. “Do you?”

Yes.

“Do I…”

“...want me to bite you.” He openly runs his soft tongue over the contours of his fangs.

Yes.

“B-bite…?”

“Mhm. Make you all numb and pliant for me?” He finally reaches over and gently tugs you closer by your arm. You let him. “That what you want, hermosa?” Your body slots seamlessly in the space between his thighs. His face cradles perfectly into the crook of your neck. You sigh, subconsciously leaning closer as his tender lips hover sweetly over your covered throat.

He whispers, barely audible against your skin, “Promise it’ll only hurt for a second.”

Yes.

“Yes.”

He doesn’t waste any time.

A hand drifts up your arm to the flexible collar of your suit. He tugs it down lightly, revealing your bare skin to the cool air. It’s not enough for him. With a hushed tear, he uses a claw to split the fabric down to the top of your shoulder, giving him more access to your body. He pushes your hair back and nudges himself closer to you, nose nestling where your neck meets your shoulder. He breathes you in. “Sweet.” His voice barely carries with how soft he says it.

The balmy heat of his breath sweeps along the side of your neck before his lips finally connect. His hands trail against your waist, slowly caressing you as he slowly presses kisses into your skin, trailing his lips down until he finds the spot. You tilt your head to the side as you feel the light scratch of his fangs.

“Hold on to me, baby.” Your gloved hands grip his thick forearms. He bites down.

It hurts in the beginning like you thought it would. Like he said it would. You try to disguise your wince, but you can’t stop the way your body flinches at the sensation. It’s intense, the sharp pain, and it spreads, traveling down from your neck to your toes.

And then, something clicks. It vanishes. That ache gets replaced with an endless warmth that relaxes every muscle in your body. Your hands, once clenched around Miguel, begin to loosen so the only thing that’s holding you up is him.

Everything touching your skin feels amazing. The heat of his hands. The suit that's starting to slowly fall down your shoulder.

Your eyes glaze over with pleasure as you watch him pull away from your body to look at you. His tongue pokes out, swiping over his bottom lip to collect the mixture of residual venom and your blood. Are you bleeding? You lean closer and your hands reach out for his shoulders.

“That good, hm?” Even his voice feels good.

You use his solid form to keep you steady as you boldly crawl onto his lap, “Really, really, good.” He hums and you feel his chest vibrate against yours. His arms easily wrap around your form as he waits patiently for you to get comfortable on top of him.

In this moment you realize how this will change everything. And you’re not talking about the bit.-- Ok, not just the bite.

It’s seeing him like this that flips your world. Feeling his touch. The gentle way he holds you against him and the patient way he lets your fingers trail down his strong chest until you’ve decided you’ve had enough. He makes you feel special. Wanted. Everything that you’ve craved since you followed him here. The same thing he offered you before taking it away.

So you’re scared. You don’t know if you could ever let this go because you know you’ll always yearn for moments like this. If he pushes you away again…

The fog in your head dissipates and it’s like you’re waking up. You catch his eye and his brows furrow. He senses something’s wrong. His hand cradles yours and gives you a comforting squeeze.

“What is it?”

“Don’t leave me.”

“What do you mean?” His eyes are sincere as they try to read your crestfallen expression.

“Just…” You exhale slowly and rest your forehead against his shoulder. “Don’t do this then walk away, Miguel.” Your words hang in the air for a few seconds as he takes them in.

Great, you ruined the mood. “Look, Miguel, I–” He softly lifts your head and leans in to press his forehead against yours. You’re so close he could probably feel your eyelashes brush against his cheeks.

“Sweetheart, I’m not going anywhere.” He draws you in and kisses you deeply, taking your breath away with his tender touch. It feels like a promise like he’s signing the dotted line of your heart. “I’m yours.” It’s whispered against your lips when he pulls back and you can help the grin that sprouts from his words. He matches it.

“Yeah?”

You’re pulled back in, “Mhm…” Muffled, but absolute.

Kissing Miguel is exactly how you imagined it to be: addictive.

Maybe it’s the residual venom left on his tongue, but the way he moves against you, mouth and body, makes your legs tremble. Makes you ache for him.

You melt against him, drunk on his taste and leaning in for more. His hands go from cradling your face and delicately tracing your neck to massaging your thighs, hands practically draping over you with the size difference.

He delicately licks into your mouth, greedily taking in every aspect of your taste. Your lips vibrate excitingly when his tongue brushes against them, they’re super sensitive from how long he’s been working them.

You feel him under you, nestled achingly against your ass. He throbs eagerly every time you let out a breathless sigh or a muffled moan. You’re no better. You swear you already have a wet spot ruining your suit from all the times he ‘accidentally’ grips his claws into the curve of your hips.

You whimper quietly when you feel the sharp point of his fang drags ever so slightly across your bottom lip. As he moves downwards, it delicately tugs at it, briefly revealing the bottom row of your teeth before releasing it. He moves his mouth along the line of your jaw and then focuses on the sensitive bite he left to bloom red and purple on your neck.

With his hands back on your waist, he starts to lick up the small droplets of blood that were staining trails down your shoulder. It stings wonderfully as he laves against it, cleaning the red off your smooth skin. You can’t help but to cry out as he begins to suck at your sensitive skin, it’s a bit more intense than you were expecting, but it feels really good. He blows cool air on it when he releases your skin, soothing the new mark he’s left on you.

His mouth is back on yours, letting you taste your own blood as your tongues intermingle with fervor. Fingers tug at the front of your suit to pull you impossibly closer as your teeth nash against one another. You hear a faint rip between you as his grip tightens and pulls at the stretchy material. Your skin quickly reacts as the cool air wraps around you, arms prickling with goosebumps and nipples tightening into hard buds.

You both pull back and look down at the damage. Your suit is split down the middle of your torso, revealing everything from your heaving chest to your belly button. Your body ignites with heat when you notice how his crimson eyes drink you in. A soft growl vibrates from his chest.

“Miguel, this is the only suit I have.”

“My bad.” Zero remorse in his voice. Asshole.

He abruptly grabs both of your wrists and pulls them behind you with one hand causing you to arch your back, inevitably giving him a better look. “God, you’re sexy.” His other hand slowly molds over your waist and smooths it upwards to grasp your tit with a playful squeeze. Using his gloved thumb, he teases the soft peak of your nipple, flicking it once just to hear you gasp. He does it once more, grinning (with his fangs cutely poking out) when you react the same way.

“Miguel…” You whine out, pouting at his teasing.

He idly drags his claws down your stomach, enjoying the way your breath hitches when he gets closer to your center. “You always go without a bra under there?”

“It’s a tight suit.”

“It is…” His hand trails down to your inner thigh and you shift slightly, leaning back so he can touch exactly where you need him. He gets the hint and gently cups you over your damp suit. “And here…?”

Your bottom lip tucks into your mouth as you look up at him, nodding softly. “And there.”

You’re suddenly being carried by Miguel, weight supported by his strong arms. You have to quickly wrap your arms around his neck to keep yourself from falling backward. He hurriedly takes you over to his desk and sets you down at the edge of the waist-level table.

He is so tall that you struggle a bit to keep your hold around his neck so you settle your hands back on his chest. You push at his firm figure and sit back to fully take him in. “And how about you?”

“Me?”

“Do you wear anything under that unbearably tight suit?”

“I do, actually. Wanna see?”

You’ve heard the rumors of Miguel’s nano-suit, but you’re still perplexed when he grabs his interdimensional watch from the desk next to you. He clicks a couple of holographic buttons and you watch in awe as his suit seems to dissolve off of him, one particle at a time, like it never existed in the first place. The fading red and navy reveal his perfectly muscled body, somehow making him look even bigger in front of you.

He did, in fact, have some briefs on under the suit, but it’s what’s under it that catches your attention. Your thighs clench together as you watch him set down the timepiece, his arm unintentionally flexing under the dim lighting.

Miguel returns to you and you spread your legs slightly so he can stand directly in front of you. You slowly reach out to him, palm to the skin, and soak in the natural heat of his body. You can feel his heart beating under his chest, slow and steady.

“You’re hot.”

He has that teasing grin back on his face, “Am I?”

“I mean…warm.”

He shrugs, “Us Spiders run hot.”

Miguel moves your hand off of him and sets it on the table before pushing his body closer to you, making your legs push out further. He leans in so close that you have to slowly tilt your body back with him. “Bet you’re warmer.”

He shifts your body further onto the table and then starts working on the rest of your suit. It tears easily from your body, scraps falling to the floor until you’re fully bare in front of him. You pant as you watch him and feel your center pulse in reaction to his rough handling. “There we are.” His voice is soothing, but his eyes flash dangerously. You arch your back slightly as his claws scrape lightly over your stomach to your most sensitive area. You don’t even have to look down to know you’re dripping, you can feel it all over your inner thighs.

His fingers glide over your glistening lips, spreading your eager wetness leisurely. His claws are gone. You watch his face as he stares at his actions, his hungry eyes dark with lust. You both groan when one finger dips in, pushing gently against your entrance. You’re practically gushing around him as he starts to move, wet sounds accompanying each thrust. A string of slick follow his hand as he pulls away and it drips carelessly on your flushed thigh. With hooded eyes, Miguel holds up his dripping finger, “Open.” You suck on him enthusiastically, holding his gaze as it’s slipped into your mouth. “Fuck.”

His briefs are shoved down his muscular thighs before you can look down and you’re shoved roughly onto your back. You feel his claws dig into your thighs as he spreads you out for him, pushing them back until they're next to your waist. His warm hardness slides against your weeping pussy, covering him in slick as he prepares himself.

Your breath hitches as his cock pushes inside of you, nearly stretching you to your limit. You try your best to take deep breaths, but it’s hard when you can literally feel each inch sinking into your body. A throaty groan rumbles in his chest as he feels you involuntarily clench around him, invariably sucking him in further. His eyes are almost glowing with how bright red they are. “Relax for me baby, I’m almost in.”

Your thighs tremble under his hands as he continues to plunge in deeper, unable to keep up with all the stimulants surrounding you. The feeling of him dragging against your walls is exquisite and you can barely hold yourself back from cumming right there.

Then he starts moving.

His hips drag back, pulling almost all the way out before he buries himself back inside of you. Your head tilts back with pleasure and your eyes squeeze shut, you can’t even tell what you’re holding on to. He keeps this slow pace, body nearly engulfing you as he hovers above. A moan follows each thrust as he fucks you into his desk.

When your eyes are finally able to flutter back open, you meet his stare. You quickly attempt to hide your face with your arm, too embarrassed to hold eye contact with him while he’s using your body like this. He doesn’t like that.

Your wrists are forced above you and then expertly webbed together to hold them there. His red webs pulse hot around your wrists. Unlike the traditional webs that tend to feel like cool lace, his are warm, like fingers wrapping tightly around your wrists, almost thrumming with soft heat in a way that makes them feel alive.

You yelp when his hand tugs sharply at the hair at the nape of your neck, forcing your gaze as he moves over you. “Look at me, baby.” You listen. He begins to aim his thrusts upwards into you, nudging against that special spot inside of you. And as hard as you try to keep looking at him, your eyes inevitably roll back as he hits it so precisely. You faintly see stars.

You cry out as heat blooms your center and your thighs close around his hips, tightening as a spark swarms in your lower belly. “That’s it, baby,” He speeds up, feeling you start to clench around him, “let go.”

Your vision blurs when your climax blasts through your body. Hot tears spill from the intensity of the feeling, creating hot trails of wetness over your cheeks. “Such a pretty little thing." He wipes them away lovingly. Your body jerks with pleasure and Miguel has to hold your waist down as your back starts to arch off the desk.

He doesn’t stop. If anything, he starts fucking you harder, letting his body weight hold you in place as he chases his own high. You whine against his neck, skin sticky with sweat, as he roughly ruts into you. “Be mine, baby, and I’ll take care of you forever.” His claws dig into your web-pasted wrists as he works himself into you, post-orgasm slick smothered carelessly over the both of you. “I promise.” He whispers breathlessly next to your ear.

“Please.” The word is nearly stuck in your throat as he continues to take everything your body is willing to give him. He’s basically grinding his cock into you now, wanting you as close as possible for these last moments. You barely hear it but he whimpers against your shoulder as he starts to draw closer to his climax, desperately rutting his hips against you.

With a choked-out groan, his movements grow sloppy and he thrusts deep inside of you a few more times. You feel the warmth of him as he spills inside of you, filling you up to the brim. He’s panting above you, body weight nearly smothering yours. You love it.

He slowly pulls out once he’s calmed down, eyes locked onto your leaking center that’s full of a mixture of you and him. His fingers lovingly spread his cum over your pussy and you flinch as he slides against your sensitive clit. You give him a look of disapproval which he ignores as he pushes his mess back inside of you.

“Will you let me out of these now?” You pull at the webs, still holding your arms above you.

“Hm…I think I’ll keep you there for a little bit longer.”

–

His office is like a bat cave when you’re barely dressed. There’s a slight breeze in the office (you have no clue where it’s coming from) that’s making it particularly drafty. You force Miguel to huddle over you like some oversized puffer jacket as it was his fault the only clothes you came with are lying on the floor in scraps.

“How am I supposed to leave when my suit is in tatters?”

His arms hold you tighter, “You aren’t. You’re staying with me.”

“Miguel, people are probably looking for us by now.”

“I don’t care.”

“Miguel.”

“Alright, fine. You can borrow one of my nano-suits, but we’re going to my place.”

“Dude, you’re like 6’3”, how am I supposed to fit into one of those?”

He tsks, “Really? You’re calling me ‘dude’ after all of this?” He grabs his watch again, scrolling through some settings. “It’s nano-tech, sweetheart, it fits what I want it to fit.” He dials the size down, letting you watch as the hologram shrinks to display your general size. “And I’m 6’7.”

-----

taglist: @deputy-videogamer @syd-vixious @bachirasbasics @danaeaurelia @reuxxi @halparkebitch @kittekat420

#miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #spider man 2099 #spider man: across the spider verse #miguel o'hara smut

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ripleylove · 5 months ago

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Mami,tu eres solo mia.

inspired by the video down below!

pairing: Dominik Mysterio x fem reader.

genre: fluff

summary: even while doing an interview, Dominik always defends you,no one disrespects his mami.

A/N: oh hell yeah I love jealous and respectful latinos like whatever you say beautiful 😍😍😍😍

⋆ ˚｡⋆𔓘⭒๋࣭

Dominik was always going to defend you,always,not letting anybody talk badly about you.

And you got another demonstration of this while he was doing an interview.

Being a backstage worker at raw,you two always managed to meet each other,and both of you knew that you liked him and that he liked you. So one day,he mustered enough courage to ask you out,and since then you all didn't even split.

Today you couldn't be at his side in the spanish interview,since you had to stay home because you weren't feeling really well,but you still watched it on youtube.

At the beginning,Dominik and the interviewer talked about all that wrestling stuff,about the judgment day and about Dominik's relationship with his father,the usual.

Until,the interviewer started asking your boyfriend about you. How did you two met and how did you two get together.

Dominik was so overprotective of you,and he wanted everyone to respect you. That's why he was almost going to punch the interviewer when he said you were "rica" which means "hot" but in a kinda disrespectful way.

Your eyes widened,already feeling pity for that interviewer.

"What did you say?" Dominik asked,daring the man in front of him to say it again. (he looked insanely hot while doing that you must say).

"No,no,but it's with respect." The interviewer tried to defend himself,shaking his hands in front of himself,but Dominik wasn't having it.

"With respect to whom?"

"To you,obviously. And to her too." The guy said while acting confident.

Oh you were fearing for his life.

"But I want you to say it one more time. What was it?" Dominik asked the interviewer, and said guy looked at the staff behind the cameras,trying to escape form this situation.

"I said that she's pretty,she's good lookin-" The guy got interrupted by your boyfriend.

"No,no,no. You said the word that starts with an R. C'mon,say it again,I didn't hear you." Dominik got closer to the guy while having a plastic red cup of water,and you already knew what he wanted to do.

"I said r-rica" Poor guy even started stuttering,while Dominik stood up from his armchair.

"Don't even dare talking about my mami like that ever again,saying that she's hot and she's pretty. Know your place and stay there,pedazo de mierda." Dominik said while still standing up,and after he finished talking,he throwed the cup of water on the guy,wetting him and the microphone.

"Don't even think about inviting me or my girl for an interview ever again,understood?" The interviewer nodded,while trying to remove the water that got in his eyes.

Dominik glared at him,and he started walking away from the set,ready to go home to his mami.

At home,you watched the whole thing and your mouth was wide open.

"Damn,that was hot."

⋆ ˚｡⋆𔓘⭒๋࣭

It was 1 a.m. when you heard keys giggling and the main door opening,and you already knew Dominik came back home.

"Mamacita! Where are you?" Dominik shouted from downstairs,you assumed he was in the living room,and you got up from your shared bed to greet him.

"Mami! Did you see the interview? I destroyed that dumbass with punches after they finished recording." He said while smiling,as if he really had fun.

"Dom,you're insane!" You exclaimed while giggling,and your boyfriend came to you and gave you a soft kiss.

"I had to defend my mami,didn't I?" He asked smirking,while holding your waist with his huge hands.

"Oh,you had to,DomDom. That was one of the papi-est things you ever did." You said chuckling,while wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Oh,yeah mamacita. Tu eres solo mia,mami."

taglist: @stellakiddsblog @bibibi-tchx @p-mp

#italian moment #dominik mysterio #dominik mysterio imagine #dominik mysterio x reader #the judgment day #Dominik mysterio oneshot #he's so hot #papi

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kissitbttr · 7 months ago

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ana babes, i'm stuck in the library studying my ass off but my thoughts always seem to go to fucking frat miguel between the shelves for a quick study break ☹️☹️☹️☹️

-sapphic loser

“i said no, miguel”

he whines, dropping his forehead down on the open book while stomping his foot down like a little boy earning a warning glance from someone who passes by,

“why nooot”

“do you even have to ask?! we’re in a library dumbass. control your dick for one second”

“how am i supposed to do that when you’re sitting in front of me?” he argues, “looking all cute and pouty.. makes me want to bang you all the time”

“miguel!” you warn with a groan, face heating up at his words, “we literally had sex this morning. twice, if i may add. i’m sure you can handle another two hours of you not being inside me”

miguel scoffs, his expression twists into something more looking in disbelief. as if it’s ridiculous for you to assume that,

his arms are crossed, leaning back against the chair with his knee bouncing rapidly. “this is boring”

“i didn’t ask you to come here, miguel. i told you to hang out with the boys didn’t i?”

“they’re being annoying right now”

you give him a look that says ‘and you’re not?’ which causes him to roll his eyes before pouting. “we can go do it three rows behind, baby. no one will notice”

his fingers reaching out underneath the table to play with the skirt of your dress. feeling his touch a little bit further and further which causes you to glare at him,

“jeez—you are no fun” he huffs, wincing when you knock his feet with yours. “i thought my girl would be an exhibitionist—but nope! i thought wrong”

“are you serious?!”you give him a deadpan look, dropping the pen on the table. “we literally fucked at your dad’s office at thanksgiving! that, and also the jacuzzi sex when we had had a ski trip with our friends?! you losing your fucking memory or what?”

that doesn’t seem to phase him enough, just shrugging his shoulders as he look down on your cleavage fingers tapping against the wooden table,

“doesn’t count in my opinion. there weren’t people there”

“god! miguel you are so—

“—fucking big, miggy!” desperate moan falls of your lips as he has you pinned against one of the bookshelf, “don’t stop, p-please”

yeah, you decide to give in to his suggestion seeing how it didn’t stop him from bothering you. letting him choose the perfect spot where no one else can see. thankfully, there aren’t a lot of people in the library so it was easy. the main task was to hide from the old librarian lady that never seemed to like the two of you,

his pants are hanging low by the hips whilst your dress is bunched up around the waist. full breasts spilling out of the cups making miguel feel dizzy at the euphoric sight of his girlfriend getting fucked.

miguel’s bulky arms holding you by the thighs as his cock plunges deep into your wet hole. his gaze falls upon your open mouth and down to your bouncing tits, leaning forward to take a nipple between his teeth,

“f-fuck, right there baby—shit” you whisper moan, back arching at the feeling of your sensitive bud getting chewed on. tangling your hands through his hair, tugging it

“puta madre you’re going to be the death of me” he comments with a groan, driving in a bit faster, chest pressing against yours as he tells you to hold onto him tightly. “didn’t i tell you this was a good idea?”

your eyes snap open, seeing that cocky smirk that quirks upon his lips. giving him a light scowl. “don’t be a fucking smart ass. you were just horny”

miguel chuckles deeply, giving you a long sloppy kiss on the mouth, licking your lower lip. “open wide, princesa” he orders with a small tap on your cheek. he grins when you obey him fast, tongue out. miguel spits his drool a bit down to your warm muscle, watching you giggle and close your mouth before swallowing it,

god, you’re so fucking sexy it’s driving him insane,

“almost there, baby?” you nod at the question, locking your legs around him a bit tighter. “fuck—me too—shit, shit”

it is far too impossible to contain your moans, especially you. which is why when you’re about to cum, miguel has to muffle your noises with his palm to keep the security and librarian coming to get the two of you busted. and it is irritating to miguel because he loves your noises. he loves hearing how good he makes you feel,

“cum for me, sweetheart—give it to me” he whispers lowly in your ear, one hand moving to reach the nape of your neck as his other still holding onto your thigh. he’a fucking you even faster that you feel the large shelf behind you is shaking quite rapidly.

“thaaat’s it— that’s it muñeca , oh fuck—fuck, i’m g-gonna—“

he cuts himself off once you both reach your high not a moment after. his cum painting the inside of your velvet walls as you coat his cock with yours. his thrusts are getting sloppy when he’s slowing down. miguel is trying to catch his breath as he watches your head falling back to catch yours. eyeing the beautiful sight before him.

he palms your cheek, thumb grazing against both of your lips making you kiss it. your eyes finding his and flashing him a shy grin.

“muy hermosa” he pecks your lips, “perfecto” your cheek, “mi cariño” one underneath the jawline. “and all mine”

his praises are making you giggle, arms circled around his neck as he helps you get down slowly and fix your dress before fixing his pants,

“i needed that, baby—thank you” you reach on your tippy toes to give him a kiss on the cheek, but that doesn’t stop miguel from pulling you in to give you a real kiss. his hands kneading your ass. as if the fucking before isn’t enough. “okay, okay—baby—sto-oh!” you try to stifle the laughs when he moves down to kiss your neck, the stubble on his chin tickling you,

“can’t get enough of you, muñeca—shit—i’d give up everything for you, you know that?”

“hmm—even football and OBJ?” you jokingly ask, eyebrow twitching as you feel him freeze and pull away with a slight offended look,

“know your limits, baby”

#this is so messy omg #i hate this one tbh lmao #frat!miguel #miguel o’hara blurbs

269 notes · View notes

starmapz · 5 months ago

Text

shame on me || chapter four || monster

gojo satoru x female vessel reader

❝gojo satoru is the strongest sorcerer. when you come along with power to match his own, his responsibility to the world gets the best of him and his first impression is poor to say the least. when he needs your help, by some miracle you're too kind to deny him. or maybe he's just manipulative enough to convince you. either way, you're stuck training his student, a vessel like you. what could possibly go wrong?❞

warnings || 18+ only. contains explicit content. enemies to lovers. extreme angst. graphic descriptions of injury and death. hurt/no comfort. hurt/comfort. fluff. major character death. anxiety. panic attacks. extreme slow burn. eventual smut. p in v. oral (f! and m! receiving). praise. overstimulation. unprotected. fingering. mating press. slight nanami x reader. happy ending!

additional tags || gojo is a dumbass but very lovable. very very very minor love triangle, will not be a main theme. no competing. takes place after season 2. au where gojo is not sealed and the shibuya incident does not go down the same. nanami is alive. choso is around. no major manga spoilers but will contain themes and ideas touched on later.

wc || 5.8k.

edited but not beta-read.

a/n || please enjoy what will likely be the last bit of fluff for a while :')

series masterlist || main masterlist || previous chapter || next chapter

The grass is damp beneath your feet as you tend to the garden you had finally had time to start. Yaga had sent Gojo out to investigate after your recent outing, given that a grade one curse shouldn’t have been present during your mission. Yuji had taken care to mention to you as well that “Nanamin” had seemed nothing short of furious as they had discussed the mission. It was heartwarming, to say the least. Along with Gojo being away in Ginza, Choso had been sent out along with Yuji and another student you had yet to meet to investigate a potential cursed object. Either way, it allowed you a moment’s peace.

Golden rays warmed your skin, cascading down over the quiet landscape of the school. You bring the back of your forearm up to wipe sweat from your brow, the sunhat adorning your head not enough to block the heat. Smiling to yourself, you brush dirt from your hands as you finish planting a row of white peace lilies.

Letting out a gentle sigh, you borrow Miriko’s technique for a short moment, watching as you focus your cursed energy on one seed. The seed buds, pushing through the soft earth and flowering in seconds. You hold the pristine white petals between your fingers, gentle and careful as you admire the gorgeous blossom.

Taro’s head raises suddenly, bolting from his position beside you to run circles in front of your visitor. Curiously, you follow his movements, a smile finding your lips as your eyes land on Kento. He’s smiling warmly at you from the edge of the treeline, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He isn't wearing his usual blue shirt and yellow tie, but rather a simple white button-up shirt and tan slacks. He’s the definition of handsome.

“Pretty,” Kento comments, honeyed gaze soft and calm as he approaches you with hands in the pockets of his slacks.

Your pink-tinted vision falls to the simple curves of the petals gently held between your fingers. The corners of your lips upturn as you turn your gaze back to Kento.

“Thank you,” you grin. “It's the one thing I can do with Miriko’s technique that doesn't come at a cost,” you explain, fiddling mindlessly with the edge of the petal.

Kento hums slyly. “I didn't mean the flower, dear.”

Your lips part, eyes wide as you stare at him, your words failing you. Your cheeks warm, the heat spreads quickly to the tips of your ears and base of your neck and you're thankful for your sunhat blocking much of the flattery painted across your features. Your heart pounds against your chest in your moment of weakness, earning a heartfelt chuckle from the man who scratches behind Taro’s ear and makes his way over to the flowerbed, kneeling beside you.

“A peace lily?” He asks, tilting his head curiously and you're surprised to find he recognizes it.

You nod, finding your voice once again. “Yeah, they’re always the first flowers I try to grow.”

“Is there a reason for that?”

Your eyes fall to the flower, the only sprouted one in all the flower beds around you. Your smile fades, a solemn expression tugging your lips into a frown. “They're in honor of someone,” you whisper, letting your silence speak for itself.

Kento understands, his hand finding solace in resting gently on your shoulder as his thumb rubs small circles over your bare skin. His touch sends electricity through your every nerve as you're forced to remain in place to avoid shivering.

“I apologize, I didn't mean to bring anything up,” his voice is kind, understanding. You got the feeling he was far too kind to push the subject if you weren’t ready to talk about it.

“You didn't know,” you flash him a somewhat bittersweet smile, the most you can manage as you attempt to erase the images of the hospital so long ago from your mind. “What brings you here?” You ask, changing the subject. Releasing the peace lily from between your fingertips, Taro sets his head on your lap, his tongue lolling out happily. Your hand finds a place between his ears, scratching his thick fur.

“I know it’s short notice, but I came to see if you two,” he points to Taro as well, “would like to join me for an outing. A date.”

You study his expression for a moment. His eye is somewhat lidded, the mahogany of his iris full of hope. It’s sweet, the way he regards you as though he’s never seen something so pretty. The feelings that stir within you are foreign after years of setting them aside, but they aren’t unwelcome. The blush on your cheeks is the only answer he truly needs, but still he waits for your response, more eagerly than he’s letting on.

“I’d love that, Kento! I think Taro would too,” you say, gently petting between his ears. You wonder what Nanami has in store for you as you get to your feet, brushing leaves and grass off of your short dress. “Can you watch Taro while I get ready?” You ask with a giddy grin, to which the blonde sorcerer nods.

It doesn't take you long to open your cabin door, adorned in a warm crimson summer dress that ends just above your knees. The dress pairs well with your sunglasses and your hair is done up in a partial updo that pulls the outfit together.

Nanami’s gaze rises from where he’s throwing a ball for Taro. His eye widens as he takes in your appearance. A soft blush rises on his cheeks before the corners of his eyes crinkle as he smiles at you.

“You look beautiful.”

It's your turn to blush once again and you giggle bashfully to yourself while you turn and lock the door. Taro’s leash in one hand, you take the hand Kento offers at the edge of the stairs as you make your way down off of your porch to his side. Kneeling down, you hook the leash onto the Rottweiler’s collar, looping it around your wrist. Taro loops between your knees excitedly, not used to the leash as you attempt to untangle him.

Kento’s gaze doesn't leave you for a moment, his eye sparkling as his small smile fails to leave his lips. It’s hard not to feel nervous when his honeyed gaze is glued to you, your heart fluttering uncontrollably. It was flattering, something that would take you a while to get used to. It had been so long since you’d been on a date that you can't help but let small anxieties further fuel the nerves you already feel. Regardless, it’s hard not to be excited in Kento’s presence.

“Ready to go?” Nanami’s voice is smooth, patient. It even eases your anxiety somewhat. Nodding, you let him lead the way, Taro excitedly following along on his leash.

“Did you have something in mind?” You ask curiously.

Nanami’s chest rumbles in a soft laugh. “Did you think I asked you out with no plan?”

“I- well-” you stammer over your words.

“I do have something in mind,” he smiles, saving you from stumbling over words. “I’m fairly old-fashioned in that sense.”

“It’s sweet,” you assure him. Nanami leads the way out past the entrance of the school, down a quiet forested path until he reaches a small shaded clearing. Flowers of various colors are speckled across the clearing and a large beige and white striped blanket is spread in the center of the clearing. Your eyes sparkle at the sight of a cooler on the blanket, realizing what exactly Nanami had set up for the two of you.

“Kento…” you gasp, turning excitedly to face him. He's fondly watching your reaction, the way your eyes sparkle in wonder at what was a simple, yet well-thought-out first date for the two of you.

“I hope you like it.”

“It’s perfect!” You grin, turning to unleash Taro, who you knew wouldn't go far. Taro bounds around the clearing excitedly, immediately taking to smelling every inch of the new surroundings.

Your date’s hand finds its way to the small of your back, directing you gently to the blanket. You sit down alongside Kento, watching eagerly as he sets out a wide array of different food options, from fruits and pastries to sandwiches and salads, including some he brought just for Taro. He was so thoughtful and you were so hopelessly flustered.

Every kind and romantic action from the blonde sorcerer had your mind spinning, your heart pounding in your chest. It was almost like he was a gift delivered straight from the gods to your doorstep. Everything you could ever hope for. He had an interest in flowers and listened intently as you explained your wedding flower business. His eye would glimmer as he spoke about a novel he finished recently and it seemed he enjoyed baking and cooking too.

He told you about how he had once done an office job but returned to sorcery when he felt he was no longer able to make a difference. Although he didn’t feel he had found the right fit for himself even now, he found some sort of belonging in using his abilities for good.

The conversation flowed naturally as you told him about your cottage and the kind people you lived near. How you had a massive yard and how Taro had been trained for the explicit purpose of tracking Gojo, which amused Kento.

For a moment, it allowed you to feel almost normal. With your cursed energy suppressed and Miriko shut out of your brain, you were allowed to just be you. To laugh, and enjoy the shade beneath the warm spring sun of Tokyo. Embarrassingly, it had you feeling giddy like a middle schooler with a crush.

Though when it came down to it, when was the last time you had a crush? Went on a date? Living with Miriko for over ten years, it likely was in high school. It had been so long since you had allowed yourself to get close to someone and shut everyone out that these feelings were so foreign they struck fear into you.

“y/n?”

“Hm?” You blink at him, eyes flickering to his hand on your forearm as you jump.

“I didn't mean to scare you,” he offers a sympathetic smile as an apology. “I asked if everything’s alright,” he repeats himself.

Your lips part to speak but you pause, pressing them into a thin line as you examine Kento’s expression. He’s ever patient with you, allowing you to work through your own thoughts like the perfect gentleman he was. You can't help but wonder if maybe admitting to him that you haven't been with someone in over ten years won't be the most embarrassing thing on earth, but the nagging feeling in your chest says otherwise. Someone like Nanami had to have boatloads of experience, after all. A successful sorcerer as handsome as him? How could he not?

“You don't need to tell me, if you aren't ready,” he pulls you from your thoughts again, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into your forearm and you sigh, unable to hold his gaze.

“It's just… been a long time since I’ve-” you pause, biting your lip. “-been with someone.”

Nanami nods slowly as he takes in your words.

“I guess I’m just having a hard time convincing myself this is right,” you mumble, unable to meet his steady golden-flecked iris.

“I see,” he hums, squeezing your forearm reassuringly. “We can go slow. At whatever pace you're comfortable with.”

Somewhat embarrassed, you shoot him a grateful smile, unable to hide the growing blush heating your cheeks and the back of your neck. Your heart does a backflip at the sentiment he expressed.

“This may be forward of me, but why do you hold yourself back?” His head cocks ever so slightly to the side as he watches the way you purposefully avoid his gaze. “You don’t fight, you should have no reason to be in any trouble, no?”

Your lips part, but the explanation dies on your tongue before you can voice it. I killed someone, you think to yourself. Was that really something to bring up on your first date?

“Don’t feel pressured to respond,” Nanami’s hand brushes your cheek. Wide eyes face him, the way he’s staring at you so softly, so gently. So full of adoration. Sure, you had spent your time over the last couple of weeks texting him non-stop like a giddy teenager (which was surprising given that Kento didn’t strike you as much of a texter), but still the way it seemed you had both fallen so fast was nothing short of terrifying for you. Yet, somehow, comforting.

You trusted him.

“I took someone’s life,” you admit, stealing a glance in his direction. His expression is neutral, giving nothing away as to how he feels. “I-” your chest tightens, anxiety threatening to claw at your composure. “I took away a young boy’s mother.” Kento doesn’t move, he doesn’t react. He simply lets you speak, but it does no favors for the growing feeling of unease tearing at your lungs. “It was an accident.” Your voice is barely a whisper, tiny and weak.

Sensing your growing anxiety, Kento shifts until he’s sitting flush against your side, pulling you into his chest. He gently rubs circles into your back, his breathing and heartbeat a steady reminder of where you were sitting. Grounding you. Accident or not, the guilt had always eaten you alive. It was something you couldn’t forgive yourself for, no matter how hard you tried. A constant nagging in the back of your mind, a reminder of why you kept your distance from the rest of the world, despite being lonelier than you cared to admit.

“All the best sorcerers have to make sacrifices,” Nanami admits, his voice a soothing reminder that you were safe. You lift your head to face him, his gentle gaze forlorn and solemn as he admits his own faults. “Unfortunately that’s the nature of a world with curses.”

Still, it wasn’t an easy reality to come to terms with. A weight on your shoulders that would never be shed, something you feared you would never truly come to terms with. Your one true reminder of the reality of what Miriko really was, and what she was capable of when it came down to it.

“My point is,” Nanami continues after an extended silence, his fingers finding a place on your waist, igniting a fiery warmth beneath his large hand. “There are consequences to our abilities, that doesn’t make any of us more or less deserving of companionship.”

You let out a small sigh, neither unhappy nor content, simply taking in his words. “You’re too kind, Kento,” you smile up at him, leaning forward to grab a strawberry. Best not to dwell on it during your first date. You didn’t want to bring yourself or Kento down.

The sun’s unwavering rays broke through the canopy above as the afternoon turned to evening before you knew it. Time with Kento passed quickly, maybe even too quickly. His genuine interest in your every word, your every movement, was captivating. If your heart had anything to say about it, it’s that you were hopelessly falling fast and easily, because that’s exactly what things were with Nanami. He was so willing to be open and honest, to be understanding, that although you found yourself shaking and nervous here and there, he was quick to soothe any worries. It was almost as though he knew you better than you knew yourself.

Taro’s head rises from your lap at the sound of a nearby car driving up the dirt road towards the school entrance, likely either Gojo or Yuji returning from their missions. Taro’s tail begins wagging, knocking over a small container of blueberries. Smiling at your dog’s excitement, you take a moment to glance at the sky, realizing it’s beginning to get dark and now Taro was eager to head back to the cabin.

“What do you say we head back?” Nanami offers the suggestion, taking notice of the same observations as you had. You nod with a sheepish grin, taking the blonde’s hand as he lifts you effortlessly. A bubbly giggle passes between your lips as you both gather the blankets and fill the cooler with food, walking along the dirt path up to the school.

“Thank you for… everything,” you shoot Nanami a grateful smile, who shakes his head as though it wasn’t a big deal. “It’s nice to have a break away from the school,” you sigh.

“And Gojo,” he adds with a soft chuckle.

“That too,” you roll your eyes playfully, curiously tilting your head. “I got the feeling you two were friends?” You ask, though your question is phrased more as a statement.

Nanami’s brow raises as he thinks about it before shrugging. “I wouldn’t go so far as to say that,” his gaze flickers towards you. “Acquaintances, co-workers,” he shakes his head. “But I don’t believe Gojo would tell anyone he has friends,” your lips part in confusion, as your thumb rubs mindless circles into Nanami’s hand.

“Someone as outgoing as him having no friends? I find that hard to believe,” you scoff.

The sorcerer hums in comprehension, but he doesn’t say anything, mahogany gaze cast to the side deep in thought. As you near your cabin, any thoughts of Gojo dissipate as the blonde’s full attention returns to you. He squeezes your hand as he turns to face you.

“Thank you-” “-I had a-”

You blink at one another, a light blush dusting both of your faces as you speak over one another. A chuckle rumbles in Nanami’s chest as his hands find your waist and pulls you closer.

“Go ahead, dear.”

You swallow the lump in your throat as your blush deepens at the pet name he used.

“I had a great time today, thank you Kento,” you grin, your eyes sparkling. The way Kento’s mahogany irises dilate, shining in utter happiness, warms your heart. It’s good to see him able to relax, it’s good to see him smile when you’re so used to his constant tired expression, ever observant. Contentment suits him.

“Thank you for joining me,” he hums, his voice deeper than usual as his face nears yours, his breath fanning your cheeks. Your heart threatens to break free from your chest with how hard it’s pounding in your ribs and a shiver runs up your spine. His right thumb rubs soothing circles into your skin, as time seems to freeze. “I’d love to take you out again soon,” he says, examining the way you nod with a sheepish smile before his gaze falls to your lips and back to your eyes. A silent question of consent, one that you respond with by setting your hands on his shoulders and pushing yourself up onto your toes to press a chaste kiss to his lips.

Your eyes open to Kento’s, an undeniable happiness painted on his features like the most gorgeous masterpiece you ever had the honor of witnessing. He pulls you back to him, your eyes fluttering shut as his lips brush yours for a moment before he presses another chaste kiss to your soft lips, full of fondness and admiration. His hand raises to cup your cheek gently as he parts from the kiss.

But no moment could ever last so long for you, could it? As if the gods had other plans for you, Taro’s alert barks warn you of what you once considered an incoming threat and was now more of an incoming nuisance. A grating voice cracks through the barrier keeping you from the outside world.

“Hey, Yaga needs to talk to us.”

You rest your head on Kento’s chest in disbelief, groaning. His chest vibrates in a chuckle beneath you, his hand raising to smooth your hair gently. At least Gojo didn’t completely ruin the moment.

“Go ahead, I should be getting home,” the blonde sorcerer’s eyes are understanding as he pulls you just barely away from him, his voice low so that the awaiting snowy-haired man couldn’t hear him. “I had a great time today though, y/n.”

You lift your head to meet Kento’s eyes, smiling. “I did too,” you grin. “Text me?” A little tilt of your head earns a smirk from Nanami.

“I will,” he assures you, letting you go as you quickly unlock your door and let Taro in. You pause beside Nanami for a moment, a glint of longing flashing through your eyes as he gently squeezes your arm before allowing you to follow after Gojo.

You spare a glance back at Nanami as a goodbye as you trail after the sorcerer who had the gall to interrupt your date. At the end of the day, it wasn’t worth fighting with Gojo over it and so you decide to move past it.

“Do you know what Yaga wants us for?” You ask, catching Gojo’s gaze from behind his sunglasses.

He shrugs, his usual smirk pulling at his lips. “Choso, Megumi, and Yuji just got back, might be about that.”

You nod, remembering they had been sent out in search of a cursed object. The idea they were heading after a cursed energy had piqued your interest, though you’d made a conscious effort not to make it known. You couldn’t help but wonder if Miriko’s last piece was out there somewhere. Then again, if she was made whole, would she consume you? Drown you in your own soul? Surely not, but it was hard to consider her to be benevolent at the end of the day in spite of her kindness.

“Did you find anything in Ginza?”

Gojo’s smirk falters. “There were residuals that make me think we were set up,” he admits, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I have a guess as to who, but…” he shakes his head. “No matter, I can handle it,” he grins, though it does nothing to ease the discomfort you felt towards the whole situation. When two vessels, a grade one sorcerer, and the self-proclaimed strongest were attacked, it left you wondering who exactly the target could be of the four of you.

You make your way to Yaga’s office in silence, your thoughts preoccupied with the mission you had all been on just a few days ago. As the door to his office opens, you couldn’t help but wonder if this meeting should have been held elsewhere. Choso and Yuji are seated in chairs in front of Yaga’s desk, while another student with black spiked hair leans against the wall off to the side. He looked mildly uninterested in the meeting, turning to irritation as Gojo ruffles his hair.

You and Gojo file into the office, shutting the door behind you.

“Thank you both for coming on short notice,” Yaga nods, his expression unreadable behind his dark glasses. “I wanted to discuss the outcome of Yuji, Megumi and Choso’s mission.”

Yaga passes the floor to Choso, who had an uncomfortable expression as he proceeded to explain that the object ended up being a finger that a special grade curse had consumed, and that Yuji had eaten it. Or more specifically, Sukuna had eaten it through his hand. Again.

“Again?” You ask in disbelief, interrupting Yaga before he had the chance to say anything.

Choso looks like a deer in the headlights and you make a conscious effort to shoot him a reassuring look. It wasn’t him you were frustrated with.

“Sukuna got one or two that way,” Yuji cranes his neck to look at you as he tells you this.

“So that’s, what? Seventeen fingers?” You ask, met with the silence of the room, save for a nod from Yuji. “And when he has twenty, the goal is to kill him, yeah?” Again, silence. Yuji nods.

“What’s your point, y/n?” Yaga’s rough voice interrupts the river of thoughts you’re struggling to find words for, drowning in disbelief that a room full of adults didn’t see an issue here.

“Did no one here think that maybe a mission like this that puts lives in danger and grows Sukuna’s power might be better suited for someone else?” Your voice wavers as you clench your jaw. Choso won’t meet your gaze, though the rest of the room is again silent. “He’s just a kid,” you hiss, your gaze flitting between Yaga and Gojo, who you can’t help but feel are truly at fault here.

“He can handle it,” Gojo assures you confidently, but you shake your head in disbelief at him. “It’s eating the last finger of Sukuna’s that I’m concerned about,” he casually hums as though you weren’t teetering dangerously on the edge of an argument.

“I don’t care if he can handle it,” you hiss, turning your attention to the white-haired sorcerer. “You shouldn’t be rushing out to find all these fingers just to kill him.”

Gojo’s brow furrows and for once, you think maybe you’ve gotten through to him. But then he huffs. “He’s a strong kid, we’re not rushing. We’re just making moves when the time is right.” Maybe you didn’t get through to him, but for once Gojo is reacting to what you’re saying. You could count that as a win in its own right.

“But the time isn’t right!” You raise your voice, making a motion with your arms in disbelief in front of Gojo. “He is a strong kid, but that’s just it, Gojo,” you pause, taking a step towards him. “He’s just a kid.”

“I brought you here to teach him, you don’t get to make these decisions,” Gojo’s voice is tense now. Finally, finally, it seemed you were getting through to him. Getting something out of him more than the usual devil-may-care attitude he threw around.

“Don’t you dare throw that shit around,” you hiss, your voice dangerously low. “You and I both know exactly why I’m here.” You straighten yourself as you face Gojo, just barely able to see the way his eyes subtly narrow behind his dark sunglasses. Though you wore the same accessory, his pissed you off if only because you couldn’t see the subtle shifts in his expression behind his dark lenses. “But I’m not about to let that happen.” You swallow the lump in your throat, unwilling, on every level, to raise a finger in Yuji’s direction, regardless of what Sukuna could do.

“It’s okay, y/n,” Yuji solemnly interrupts before Gojo can respond, fidgeting with his thumbs. His voice is full of determination as he continues. “This is my purpose.”

Your lips part in disbelief as Yuji, a kid, admits to you that he’s come to terms with his own fast-approaching death. Your crimson eyes blink as you take in his words, shoulders dropping. How were you supposed to sit on the sidelines and watch someone so young sacrifice themself because someone told him to?

“No,” you whisper. “No, it’s not okay.” A lump forms in your throat and as you glance at Choso you see a forlorn sadness reflected in his eyes that matches yours. Whether he chose to say it or not, it was clear he agreed. “I’m not about to watch you steal his youth from him,” you hiss, looking between Yaga and Gojo.

An eerie silence falls over the entire room. The air is tense, between you and Gojo, between Director Yaga and everyone in the room. Clenching your hands into fists, your nails digging into your palms are the only reprieve from the silence that followed.

To your surprise, it seems that your words resonated with Gojo of all people. After arguing with him mere moments ago, you’re not sure what exactly it is that breaks through his usually tough shell, but he takes a step forward regardless.

“From now on, I want Fushiguro on missions for cursed objects,” he surprises you as he leans forward, setting his palms on the back of Choso's chair. You glance at the other boy in the room, assuming he must be Fushiguro. The boy casts you a glance but nods slowly.

Yaga takes a moment to consider all the words exchanged before nodding as well. “Very well,” he agrees. You blink in shock, wondering what it was that pushed Gojo into having a change of heart. Either way, you breathe a sigh of relief. “I do think it would be wise, however,” Yaga cautions, “to keep Fushiguro and Itadori away from one another.” You follow his gaze, looking between the two boys. Before you can voice your question, Yaga explains his thoughts to you. “We suspect Sukuna has some sort of interest in Fushiguro, but we can’t be sure what he has in mind.”

“I feel like that would have been important information,” you mumble just loud enough for Gojo to hear.

Do you have any idea what Sukuna could want?

No, Miriko hums, I’m not certain. If his technique affects others, I could see a correlation.

Dropping the subject, you figure that’s a discussion for later.

“I’d like to call Okkotsu back as well,” Gojo tells Yaga. “We don’t need another incident of cursed objects disappearing.”

Yaga nods again, going over details before dismissing you all. “Oh, and y/n,” Yaga adds before you can leave. “Watch your tone in my office.” You nod with wide eyes as you slip out of the office, letting out a breath as you pause in the hall outside of Yaga’s office.

“Thank you,” a deep voice addresses you. Choso comes into view, his sheepish gaze fixed on the floor. “For standing up for my brother.”

You tilt your head curiously. Him and Yuji didn’t look alike at all, but you supposed you were in no real place to judge with a dragon curse stuck inside you.

“I’m just glad someone’s on my side,” your laugh comes out with more exasperation than intended and Choso softly smiles. His eyes slowly shift behind you as he focuses on Gojo, who cheerily thanks the two boys for dropping by, taking an extra moment to bother Fushiguro before his eerie blue eyes rest on you.

“What was that all about?” You question Gojo. Sensing the tension in the air, Choso is quick to slip away.

“Whaddya mean?” He grins nonchalantly as though you didn’t just yell at him. Though, that was just how Gojo was. He always bounced back like nothing was a big deal.

Raking a hand through your hair, you lower your voice as you lead Gojo away from Yaga’s office. The halls of the school were still unfamiliar to you as you hadn’t taken the time to explore beyond visiting Shoko on occasion. Leading the way into a corner with vending machines, you turn to face Gojo.

“Why did you agree with me?”

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” His jaw hangs slightly ajar as he busies himself looking at the vending machine.

“It is, but-”

“Do you have any cash?” Gojo interrupts, eyes fixed on something sweet in the vending machine.

“What?” You stare in disbelief at how little he was paying attention. “Is everything a joke to you?”

“Do I look like I’m joking?” Blue eyes fix to you from the side of his sunglasses, not blocked from this angle. “C’mon,” he insists.

Baffled by the man, you pull your wallet out of the pocket of your dress. If it would make him listen for one goddamn moment, then sure, you could shell out some cash for him to get food. Gojo mumbles a ‘thanks’ as you slide a couple of bills into the machine, watching as Gojo punches a button and grabs what might have been the most sugary option in the machine. You wrinkle your nose at the treat, repeating your initial question.

Gojo sighs, leaning against the machine. “What’s it matter?”

“It matters because you’ve been nothing short of disagreeable the entire time I’ve been here, so I wanna know where your change in heart is coming from.” You cross your arms over your chest, shifting on the balls of your heels.

Gojo’s brow raises. “I’m not heartless.”

“Could have fooled me,” the snide words tumble from your lips before you have a moment to think about them. For a split second, a frown pulls at the corner of his lips. Even with how Gojo’s acted towards you, guilt still decides to eat at you for that comment. “Sorry,” your apology is barely a whisper.

An uncomfortable silence hangs in the air between you as you avoid his gaze.

“I’d be a hypocrite if I didn’t agree,” Gojo speaks up between bites of the sugar-coated ice cream bar he was eating. He rolls his shoulders as he pushes off of the vending machine to stand closer to you. The light blue shirt he wears pulls taught at his chest from the movement as he eyes you with a more serious air to him.

You take a step back, preferring the distance between you but tilt your head questioningly, a small hum parting your lips.

“One of the second years was in a similar situation last year. I said pretty much the same thing to the higher ups.”

That comes as a shock to you. Though, no, he didn’t truly strike you as heartless, you’d always gotten the impression that Gojo was still too much of a child at heart to truly see the weight these children needed to carry. It was only a glimpse, but maybe Gojo was more mature than you’d given him credit for.

“Then why-?” Your words fail you. Why everything? Why let Yuji eat so many of Sukuna’s fingers? Why let things get this far? Why let a child eat them in the first place? So many unanswered questions, you didn’t know where to begin.

“I wasn’t lying, y’know.” He takes another bite of the ice cream bar. “I don’t want to kill him. I told you that back in the cafe, yeah?” You nod slowly. “I’m on your side, y/n.”

Your brow furrows. “Then why don’t you act like it?”

For once, the man who never shuts up is silent. He runs his tongue over his lips. His voice is distressingly serious when he speaks. “Because someone needs to be the monster if everything goes wrong.”

It chills you to the bone. A shiver runs straight up your spine and to your heart. Never once had Gojo struck you as the kind of person who was capable of being so stark. The guilt of your previous words gnaws at your chest like a weight you couldn’t escape. The gravity of the situation you’d found yourself in wasn’t lost on you, but you had always figured you were the contingency plan. That Gojo wouldn’t kill Yuji, that he would force your hand. Or that he believed he would die and you would be forced to, that was the way he had always phrased it.

No, you weren’t the contingency plan. You never had been. You were nothing more than a dangerous gamble that Gojo was willing to kill if it came down to it.

series masterlist || main masterlist || previous chapter || next chapter

a/n || thank you so much for reading! i've gotten so much love on this series and it's been so much fun to write ♡ and for those of you waiting for gojo, consider this my promise that the next chapter will be quite long, and very full of gojo and also angst

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itssoinevitable · 12 days ago

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acgas season 5 rant

well I must say it’s been some time since I wrote a tumblr essay but I think this one has been building all season. in fact, it will likely be part one of (?) because there are many feelings that need to screamed into the void. let me preface by saying that I am not a “hater” by any means, because I absolutely and unabashedly love this show and it pains me so much to criticise it, instead of celebrate on cloud nine like I usually would be after the finale. I ranked it higher than downton abbey the early seasons, which is a massive compliment for anyone that knows me. and I repeatedly told others not to worry bc it’s the show that keeps on giving and that I trusted these writers implicitly with our beloved characters.

so yes, it royally sucks that I have to eat my words, and that acgas season 5 did not bring what it should have brought. and it also sucks that this is only part one of my rant (for you and me both). if you loved s5, then I am really happy you did, and please don’t read on bc I don’t want to taint your experience. if you hated it but don’t know why, or bc misery loves company, pls read on. spoilers ahead, obv.

1. episode structure

yes so — structure wise, it was a hot mess. I can definitely see what they were going for, in that they gave the limelight to a pair of characters every episode, and thought it would be fine like modern family style episodes. except, another spoiler alert: it was not fine at all, unless your faves are the featured couple for said episode. I would do an episode by episode breakdown but @owlsiehoot already did that. suffice to say, it is not the kind of show where you can enjoy 40 odd minutes when it’s not “your” characters’ turn to shine. they have nearly an ensemble cast, but chose not to treat it like an ensemble show. and while I can see what they were trying to avoid, the chosen execution method was far far worse imo. (we may never know the real reason for this change, but I hate whoever greenlit this decision).

even if they wanted to keep the longer scene structure, fine, maybe it could have worked. but if I could have recommended one change in the writing room, it would have been to split the main cast into threes every episode, instead of pairs. that would resemble the formula a bit more like the prev seasons, and would’ve given much more interesting and diverse back and forths to play off of and keep more general balance. some ways the dynamics could have been done:

Tris & Carmody were fine in ep 4, but keep it in skeldale more and add Mrs Hall into the mix to mother them, even better. (reminding the audience she has a biological son too, and not just these surrogate dumbasses whom she loves would have been a bonus.)

Helen & James are always lovely together, but add Tris in there for some mischief or more Jenny and Heston Grange for some sisterly bonding.

Tris & Siegfried were cute too, but again they were away from the house, and usually Audrey was right in there with them and added something to all their interactions.

Alternatively, give the ladies something to do and put Audrey, Helen and Mrs Pumphrey together again. (I will say though, at least Mrs P had more to do this season).

Where the show suffered most was giving Carmody two stand-out episodes tbh, when in reality, they only had time for one.

2. tone

not only did the previous seasons have an amazing balance of all characters, they also managed to balance the darker story threads with lighthearted humour in an inimitable way. usually three concurrent storylines, two being more serious, and one more lighthearted to break it up. some episodes of course, were more lighthearted than others. but season 5 seems to have turned that on its head because almost all storylines were quite silly?? I respect there has always been a certain amount of physical humour, but it seems now that the gags have now replaced actual plots and meaningful character development. this is not a sitcom after all, unless they’re trying to change genre at the nth hour. notable exceptions include Bingo’s storyline ofc, and Candy & Joan (both which were early in the season btw) and James’ war and brucellosis experience right at the end. the middle was mostly twaddle if you ask me.

which reminds me: overall, the animal storylines seem to have become something of a joke too. the animals used to mean a lot more to their clients before, and the vets used to show them a great deal more love and respect. contrast to this season, many vetting scenes feel almost cavalier. the poor dog with the phantom pregnancy was played for laughs, which I don’t think it would have been in prev seasons. the horse that fell down after the injection, had no greater mystery to solve. Siegfried and Tristan barely seemed to care, and chalked it up to shock. it is quite unforgivable to me, as their great reverence for the animals was one of the things I love(d) about this show.

imo a few subtle changes could have elevated many of the stories to their usual form. I gave an example on discord, but I’ll repeat it here. it’s episode 5, and picture Bosworth coming into Skeldale the same was as he did in canon, asking Audrey to come out to investigate a potential bomb. everything could have remained the same except that Audrey could have told the others where she was off to, and Siegfried or Tristan maybe asked her not to go. the whole family would have gathered together for a moment, expressed their fear for her and she would have said it’s her duty to go and check anyway. in this version, we would have felt the tension and the stakes, and it would be a looming threat of the war finally touching Darrowby. the end would also be the same, a false alarm and nothing more but the emotional impact of the episode would have increased tenfold.

and to me, the worst part of it all is that the season actually started off so promising. the first two/ three episodes, combined with the interviews by the cast, it honestly felt like they were exploring some very interesting things. but they dangled the carrot, only not to deliver imho.

it seemed that Tristan was hiding something painful under his playful exterior, eventually to be teased out, but apparently he really came back from war completely trauma-free.

I was under the impression that Siegfried was supposed to have an identity crisis, where he was feeling left behind, but it didn’t seem to pan out properly either.

Audrey was supposed to be overworked, right? but we didn’t see her actually buckle under the strain of her many, many duties because she’s basically superwoman I guess?

James had this beautiful connection with Banerjee, only for him to be alive but never show up again I guess? really thought James would bring him to Mrs P’s convalescent home but guess not.

3. characters

and here is the crux of it, the beating heart of the show which is now bleeding out. because a truly good show is character-driven, and unfortunately I cannot say that was true for season 5. a glaring deus ex machina comes to mind, when the doorknob fell off in episode 4, trapping Tris and Carmody in a room. never thought the show would stoop to these cliched tropes tbh and it truly disappointed me.

not only did the episode structures do the characters a great disservice, but it seems to have foiled the overall season story arc too for each character throughline. to me, it looked as if the only two people with clear defined story arcs were James with his war trauma, and Carmody (my beloved). was it Sam West who said the characters seemed “busy” this season? bc yes, it’s accurate. but not in a good way. mostly they all had only things to do on the surface, but there was very little going on underneath. which is a crying shame because basically, characters have to suffer a little to grow and be interesting. they need to face challenges and grow and change. let’s do some compare & contrast:

Tristan changed and grew in every season, from 1 to 3 and faced many internal (and external) obstacles to becoming his best self, whether it was by being more studious or responsible and mature in his work and personal life. Now he’s back and we’re supposed to think… what? That he’s already his best self, I suppose.

season 4 Siegfried was holding his found family together, trying to cope with the workload and missing Tristan, worrying about James, terrified that Audrey was going to leave. contrast to s5, and Siegfried is… being adorable with baby Jimmy, and attracted to a goat heiress? if there was something deeper here, please let me know bc I must have missed it.

while last season, Helen was looking forward to starting a family, and then working on keeping her baby healthy and her family (James) intact despite the war. s5 Helen started off strong, struggling with balancing being a mother and big sister to Jenny, but now… she’s what? planting too many strawberries in the victory garden? being a supportive wife to James is important, but it cannot be her only feature.

and last but definitely not least, Audrey in s4 was learning what a life outside her marriage to Robert could truly mean for her, and figuring out for herself where she belongs. conversely, s5has her making jam, and finding non-explosive tinned potatoes. yes she’s a warden, but what is she feeling on the inside?

4. conclusion — an empty vessel

to summarise this not-epic epic is that my true grouse with this season is its utter emptiness. it is truly a season where nothing happened and nobody really changed. okay, some things were different — e.g. Siegfried being better with handling his “boys”, and being more open and less grumbly in general. or Tristan being more responsible with his work, and standing his ground more firmly. but imo those were the results of previous season’s changes. within the course of s5, they did not do much growing or changing.

Tristan’s homecoming episode comes to mind the most. so many missed opportunities for deeper to surface — James being torn between treating a patient and possibly missing his son’s christening would have added some true to character dissonance. Helen leaning on Audrey for support when she had issues with her mother-in-law, could have worked beautifully and explored the character foils in an interesting way. James and Helen asking Siegfried and Audrey to be Jimmy’s godparents would have been truly touching and a testament to how deep their familial bonds are.

anyway, TL;DR I guess? maybe it’s because they’re saving most of the juicy stuff for season 6, but it mostly felt like a filler season, and if you looked forward to it all year just to get that then it’s truly anti-climactic. with all that said now, onwards and outwards. we shall see was the CS brings.

#the essay nobody asked for #you're welcome #acgas spoilers #acgas s5 #acgas blues #you see it's not bc of axs at least not entirely lmao #i feel better writing it all down ngl #pls nobody hate me okay

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southparkhcsocs · 1 year ago

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Hii! Could you maybe do the main four + butters (if wanted ofc!) with a s/o who looks really mean on the outside but is like the nicest person in the inside!! If you do thank youuu! x3 ♥︎

Also do u accept anons? If you do, could I be 🕯️ anon?

Yes! love this! I hope you like it!

I do Accept Anons!

Stan Marsh

When Stan first saw you he might as well shat his pants

Bro was so scared as was most people at college

There wasn't a lot of buff ass girls so when you walked up to him when he was trying to bench

SWEAT

but your soft voice spoke

"you should really have someone to spot you when doing bench presses."

"w-what?"

"it's okay, I'll spot you."

Fuck it was when you smiled

that smile got this boy smitten

After that?

Well, it was history

Kyle Broflovski

You didn't really like anyone in your class.

they were either try hards or just fucking idiots

So when then stupid Ginger wouldn't stop staring at you

well you had enough

"what the fuck is your problem?"

"w-what?"

"why are you staring at me??"

"i.. uh.. I want to ask you on a date"

A Date???

Your stomach started doing flips

You look him up and down

"sure."

Best decision ever!

Kenny McCormick

UGH Kenny McCormick!? Seriously!

Not being funny Ken but everyone know you're a fuck and chuck kinda guy

Everyone knew you were not the kind to be fucked around with

Especially since what your ex said you did to them

So you thought you would give him a dirty look to get the dumbass to stop staring

this MF just WINKED

from then on he wouldn't leave you alone

you exchanged numbers thinking nothing of it

until one night he text you

Y/n, hlep bd higth What? PLs hel p Send location

And with that you made your way to the scruffs house.

You were always his go to for everything from that point on

Eric Cartman

Everyone knew you were in some sort of fight club

So when Cartman heard he want to watch to see how shit you were

but much to his surprise you were actually good???

he could use this

you could beat people up for him

it's perfect!

Little did he know that you were a total softie

litro would not hurt a fly

plus you wont attention like.. ALL THE TIME

Lucky you're hot

andgivegoodhead

Leopold "Butters" Stotch

oh hamburgers

he doesn't know what he was thinking

he heard the rumors' about you

so when his dad ordered him to tell you to move your bike he was terrified

as he timidly walked over to you

it was like he got a frog caught in his throat

"e-excuse me.. could you please move your bike"

"you're cute."

His face could not of gotten redder

"here's my number. call me."

You hopped on your bike and rode of into the distance

once you got back to your dorm you checked your phone

3 new messages

This boy has never received as much love since meeting you.

you adore him and he you

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seastarblue · 2 months ago

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Character Intro: Felix BonaDea

“Yep, we’ve got this!”

Basics:

Pronouns: he/him

Species: Halfling (Fairy + Human)

Age: 27

Nickname(s): Fel, Flick, Dumbass (affectionate)

MBTI: Idk yet

Voice Claim: Hunter from The Owl House

Physical:

5’5” (≈162 cm)

Build: Lean muscle

Skin: Pale-ish

Eyes: Pale gray, almost white

Hair: Black, slightly long (just above shoulder length)

Special Features: Small black and pale gray butterfly wings, black butterfly markings under his eyes, crooked smile

Personality:

Speaking Style: Being a nobleman, Felix has been taught how to speak like one. He does not enjoy doing that, however, and will be as informal as possible whenever he feels like it.

Likes: healing people, helping people, magic, friendship, alcohol, a goooooood fight, bees, food, his friends, his stepfather and Amaryllis, his half siblings (Maria and Luca), doing good things

Dislikes: leaving others, being left out, frogs, fancy talk (see above), liars, criminals, nobility and the rules that they put down, prejudice against Fae and Cursed ones

Main Goal: “When I get those Nikasa bastards it’s over for them. And if I stay in this godsdamed estate for any longer I may just e x p l o d e—”

Backstory (under the cut):

Felix BonaDea is a nobleman from the house of BonaDea, known for their healing magic. His mother, Gianna BonaDea, is human, and his other mother, Amaryllis, is a fairy. Now, for most of Nialon, it's quite normal for humans and non-humans to mate, but this rule does not apply to nobility. He did get everything he could want, including gender surgery, as Gianna and her husband Antonio was not heartless. She also allowed Amaryllis a small secluded estate for her to live in. Despite this, Felix was shunned in life, and had no chance at being anything important to... anyone, really. Or so he thought.

One day, he was walking through town (glamoured with a trick Amaryllis taught him), and stopped by a tavern popular for guards and guards-in-training. He met someone there who would make him feel less lonely, and that person was Kaiden Evania, another alienated child shunned because of her curse. They got to chatting, and clicked immediately, pulling a prank on other guards-in-training who had been picking on Kaiden. Once Felix heard she was forced to be in the capital, Vespar, because of the draft, he resolved to learn how to fight so that she wouldn't feel lonely, as he always had.

The years went by, and despite Felix's nobility, he and Kaiden made an unstoppable team. They had succeeded in 'The Hunt', an annual challenge hosted by a House. Afterward, both attended the Aquamarine Ball, which was an event where graduating guards would learn of their placement, be in the city, or a House, or the outskirts of town. While at the Ball, Felix and Kaiden were approached by Lloyd Santhuff, the leader of the Azari Knightage, a warrior unit that only takes the best of the best. Lloyd was interested in the pair, and offered the both of them a place there. They accepted, and after a couple years of training, were full-fledged Azari. They chose to be put under the Fifth Order, led by another fairy called Saffron.

They took the Oath, which bound their souls together and let them think as if they were mere extensions of each other, but Felix thought it was bullshit and just for show. The pair (mostly Felix, to be fair) made friends with their unit, and all was well.

They were good. The best, even. But then on one mission investigating the Nikasa, Felix and Kaiden were caught and brutally tortured for weeks. When the rescue team finally found them, they were badly hurt.

His family immediately requested his return when they caught wind of what happened. Felix left the Azari after that. He now lives as a prisoner with his family on their estate.

#o(sea’s)#sea’s story 1 #character profile #osea: felix

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psychedelic-ink · 1 year ago

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since i'm a dumbass I'm making another poll with all the top voted characters so i don't get confused who's actually winning

(for brief context this is for the only murders in the building based fic I'm working on for more details look under the cut xx)

sorry and i love you all

prev votes and details about what the hell this poll is about if you haven't seen the prev one

this was the prev vote

I kinda figured out later that when I put two characters in one poll, they ended up getting twice the votes. And that messed things up because it didn't really show the true top character. but anyway i made it late my brain sometimes stops working fvbf

and this fic is going to be an only murders in the building au basically, you don't need to know the show to enjoy it, it's going to be a murder mystery where a trio forms (reader being one of them and honestly most likely dieter because he just fits the vibe) and while they try to solve it they make a podcast

I decided to make these polls weekly because I have a couple more things I would like the readers to decide but I also don't wanna spam everyone with polls everyday so weekly seems best 💗

#my polls #sorry for the whoopsie #only murders in the building au

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checkoutmybookshelf · 1 year ago

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Prequels are Hard, but This One Nailed It

As all Star Wars fans know, prequels are HARD. You have a less developed version of a beloved character and it's very easy to either be too predictable or to make the character significantly less interesting in comparison to their more mature and experienced version. Add to that the potentiality for "baby warrior swings a BIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIG sword" simplicuty of character given Viv's off-page future/history (depending on which direction you're coming at it from), and it's kind of miraculous that this book was as awesome at it turned out to be. But it was awesome, it had BOOKS and PASTRIES, and they threw in a necromancer for funsies. Let's talk Bookshops & Bonedust.

Hello, if you're finding my blog for the first time, please be aware that there are MASSIVE SPOILERS below the break.

Being the dumbass newbie who gets skewered on mission one absolutely sucks. But where most baby warriors would hear "Newbies who rush in die most of the time" wouldn't take any time to reflect on that as they convalesce, Viv actually does, and spends her entire time in Murk remembering that she's young and dumb and probably should look before she leaps now or else Rackham might not take her back. I appreciated that impetus to learn and develop a new habit.

I also adored that Viv had a good example of a life after being a soldier of fortune in Maylee. Maylee was such a fascinating combination of experience and vulnerability in everything from her understanding of where she and Viv were in their lives and still choosing the joy in the time they had to being so delighted over the book of fancy pastries that she was willing to leverage her clout to support Fern because it was important to Viv. The foreshadowing for Legends & Lattes in Maylee just in general was amazing, and the whole theme of "at another time and in another place, this might have been perfect but we're in this time and place so we make do" was just weirdly heart-wrenching? Like, we KNOW Viv has a happy ending coming, but it doesn't actually soften the intensity of the here-and-now feelings, and that is SO LIFE I can't even. This whole relationship was fascinating, and I loved getting to see this summer romance.

Then we come to Fern, the absolutely delightfully foul-mouthed proprietor of the titualr bookshop. I very nearly CRIED when we got the first description of this little shop. HOW could you keep BOOKS in such terrible conditions??? But the love and work that Fern and Viv put into the shop, and the sheer delight of watching Fern read people and match them to books was fun. I also appreciated the combination of subtle homages to classic and contemporary books and book trends--the bundles of mystery books with themes on the wrappers was just delightful.

This is also where we shout out Potroast, because POTROAST IS THE HERO OF THE NOVEL AND NO, YOU WILL NOT CHANGE MY MIND ON THIS. Sassypants gryphets are my new favorite thing.

Finally, we come to Varine. I generally am not a necromancer girl, but Varine is delightful because she's just living her best villain life. She's not terribly complex, she's not terribly well developed, but she doesn't NEED to be. She NEEDS to be scary and fun, and both those boxes were ticked.

At this point, I want to highlight another seriously awesome thing that a good friend of mine point out: This book is super woman-heavy. The named male characters are more plot devices than actual people, and all our main characters are badass ladies. Even the irascible Iridia--head gatewarden and indisputable authority in the town--is female. This entire book is badass women politicking at and supporting each other and all I can say is...MORE OF THIS PLEASE. More women-dominated cozy fantasies with sassy gryphets. I love this and I hope Baldree keeps writing in this universe, because I would happily dive into more of these books.

Overall, Bookshops & Bonedust was a delightful read that didn't really feel like a prequel. It had none of the prequel weaknesses or pitfalls, and was just a sheer delight to read.

#travis baldree #bookshops & bonedust #bookshops and bonedust #viv #cozy fantasy #cozy books #cozy reads #cozy epic fantasy #books and reading #books & libraries #books and novels #books #book recommendations

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look-mom-percys-on-the-tv · 10 months ago

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so they changed Athena...

spoilers below for all the five books and for the new show!

In the books, Annabeth claims that Athena guided her to where she found Luke and Thalia.

Her own father couldn't look after her, but at least Athena did *something* (it also seems they're changing the baby luke/thalia dynamic... I'll make that post later....)

throughout the series, Athena ONE: helps Percy avoid capture so he could live long enough to save Annabeth from Atlas&co. in Titan's Curse. TWO: warns Percy that his friendship with Annabeth is dangerous FOR THEM not just the world, showing she cares, and kind of takes a "dumbass boy isn't good enough for her" additude and THREE: votes to kill PERCY because he was dangerous to the gods' existence (show viewers, dw, that will make sense in time!) which shows she is on the side of Olympus (relevant later)

In this show, however, she is shown as uncaring. both in her viewing demigod children as "gifts", as mementos of her godly grace, and in her severely punishing the slightest misstep, targeted specifically at the one person who worships her most, she objectifies her children. They are but reflections of herself, testimonies to her vanity.

When the og trio are in the humane zoo truck in book one, Annabeth and Percy theorize that Athena will take Zeus's side if Zeus fights Poseidon. However, if Percy could potentially prevent a war, what motivation would Athena have to stop his quest? If the war was truly over nothing and would further prevent the recovery of the real Lightning, what is such a war worth to the goddess of wisdom? Either Athena felt secure in her choice because she knew Annabeth would be isolated and believed Percy would succeed without her (slash didn't care?? somehow???), she somehow BELIEVED Zeus's accusation of Percy, despite that in the books it's hinted that most of the Olympians even think said accusation is fucking stupid, or she truly prioritized her wounded pride over a godly conflict, which would be a diversion from her book characterization (I told you it was relevant!) of being both cold+merciless AND levelheaded.

first off: shoutout yo everyone who's parents take things Personally with a Capital P.

secondly: I almost have a hard time believing these are the actions of the goddess of wisdom. What it DOES achieve in storytelling, however, is changing Annabeth's internal conflict from the books. Places her closer to the other campers, all struggling with whether [REDACTED] (<-the real lightning thief who's name some of y'all don't know yet) was right to cause the main conflict of the series, whether to join him.

but that gets me thinking... [REDACTED] and his patron achieve their goals through deception, manipulation. to build resentment and infighting inside the Olympian family between the gods and demigods alike. Twisting a god to their will to carry out their wicked tasks in book one.

And in the book, THEY were the ones who not only sent Medusa to Percy, but Echidna as well, straight from the patron's home in Tartaurus. In fact, [REDACTED], in a scene which was omitted from the show, summoned a monster inside a sacred ground which was meant to keep them out just like what happened at the Arch in the show!

just some food for thought :3

#percy jackson show #pjo spoilers #pjo tv spoilers #pjo tv show #look mom percys on the tv #ME!? POST A HALF-COHERENT ANALYSIS😱😱😱😱 CALL THE AMBULANCE!#nerdy tangents #my pjo live reaction

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anti-endo-safe-space · 7 months ago

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Minor/Brief tw/cw for mentioning programming since we are a programmed system.

What we don't really get about endogenics is if they believe they have system experiences, but not the criteria at all, but still relate to system experiences is...why not just...identify with the space??? I probably worded that poorly. But like. If you're suspecting you're a system and feel like you aren't one, why don't you just spend time exploring that???

We just don't get it cause we often felt like we didn't fit the criteria. We barely felt like we were OSDD1a/1b. It was a good several months before choosing to use that term and we still flip flopped between having 1a or 1b or DID or maybe not even being a system. We turned out to have DID and are specifically a programmed system just for context.

But even when we questioned systemhood or questioned programming, we continued to explore and question. We thought we didn't have amnesia or our alters weren't distinct (feeling like me, host, the one that claims the body, but different emotions.) And we were so scared of being fakeclaimed if we opened up about it. (Not that system spaces do that, but we have a muddy history with harassment and our programs and our alters that fakeclaim us don't help either. Especially since we fully fell into fakeclaiming back when it was more of a popular thing a few years back. It fucked us up.)

I guess we just struggle to understand why they can't just...explore??? Or learn??? It took us so long before we even knew about our other alters. A lot of our fictives were the only "original" (meaning distinct from host/the body) alters we could interact with. Year and a half into our exploration and we learned a LOT especially in the past few months.

It just feels like the systems that find themselves as endogenic or mixed origin or whatever just don't feel confident in them being systems due to a mix of fakeclaiming being prevalent and easy to access as well as just a lack of understanding their systems. Which is normal??? One of our system friends thought there were only 3 alters. A bit after discovery and they have like 20 or sumthn.

Our system flip flops a lot on our stance on endos (usually being neutral or anti) cause we are very easily influenced between our programs, unstable relationship with reality, being a huge dumbass, and our moral ocd. But we believe we are adamantly anti endo.

I guess our main point is...why not just go without a label/term??? Why not use like UDD or something??? Why do they HAVE to have a label and after feeling like they don't have OSDD or DID go with endogenic or use mixed origin or believe they have an endogenic form of DID??? (Rhetorical questions.)

We've been hyperfixated on this and just don't understand it. It's okay to not label yourself. It's okay to be confused why you line up with system experiences, but find the criteria doesn't match. It's okay to feel confused about if you have the disorder or not. That's exactly what we experienced and even felt a lot of guilt from even resonating with DID stuff.

We never fell into endogenic stuff for ourself cause we do not socialize or care to participate in communities cause of past bad experiences (fandoms, mental health spaces, ableists, a variety of things.) But it just strikes us as...why do you need to believe you are a system/have some dissociative disorder like DID or P-DID, but believe it's not related to trauma that caused it? (Rhetorical questions.)

Like if you question and look through and think it doesn't apply to you, I wouldn't say that's necessarily a "no." For ones that are probably actually systems and just believe they don't have it, we mean. Cause we didn't think we had amnesia or distinct alters until...we did. We didn't even really have fictives for a while either. Cause that's pretty normal. And even before we understood we were a system, we saw plenty of systems share their experiences of going from OSDD-1 to DID as they discovered things.

Like we didn't know about our trauma till like 21-22. And didn't realize we had programming or even DID until a few months ago. And we've suspected DID and being a system on and off for years, but always felt like we were "wrong" for even suspecting it (for a few different reasons.)

I dont...really know what the point of this is. I guess just venting/ranting. But we just don't see why some systems fall into this idea that they are solidly endogenic or mixed origin when...its possible they just don't know. I, host of our system, still know very little. I have the least amount of information of all of the alters, again due to our programming. Like. Sometimes you don't know.

We just feel like it comes from this intense need to know everything about your system, every detail and label. It surely led us to feeling "fake" because we couldn't do that. We're polyfragmented, I constantly front and I'm extremely fragile, and it is very easy to overwhelm us. But then we found posts that understood that, that knew what it was like, that could put it into words. I suppose how we perceive it is that systems are desperate to understand their systems and experience fully, but don't fully understand the innerworkings. So they just see alters or the top layer of the onion of the system experience, but not any of the disorder-y stuff and then feel like they aren't a system. Then they find the term endogenic or mixed origin or whatever and align with it because, in actuality, a lot of their experiences aren't well understood yet. So to feel like they ARE a system, they find the endogenic community and terms fitting as they explore. But we think in actuality that it's just them either misunderstanding the criteria or not fully realizing they DO experience it. Like we misunderstood what amnesia was. Hell, even for our personality disorders we found ourselves misunderstanding the criteria cause we are a dumbass and struggle to understand stuff. And that's okay.

This is specifically about systems we notice do tend to fall under DID and OSDD, but believe they're mixed origin/endogenic. Sorry, we aren't good with words and still don't understand everything. But we've just been observing a lot. Both sides, arguments, the different experiences. And this is kinda what we think is happening for systems that probably DO have a dissociative disorder like DID, but fall into the endogenic or mixed origin belief. And we kinda wonder if they had this reassurance of their experiences outside of endogenic stuff, if it could mean systems could feel more certain in their experiences. And fakeclaimers and stuff like that certainly haven't happened. It was a long time before WE understood stuff and we still struggle to understand things.

It feels like it just needs to be said: it's okay to not know everything about your system. It's okay if you feel you don't align fully with the criteria especially if you don't understand it. It doesn't necessarily mean you don't fit it, but that you either just aren't aware or don't understand. OSDD and DID are confusing disorders when you experience them. Even with how much we know, we still doubt and question and have to check if these are "normal" experiences. You don't have to label and understand everything. You don't have to share all of that. It's your experience.

But uh for any of the ones knowingly faking or spreading misinformation (like autism and BPD and other non-dissociative disorders can cause systems) or flat out using medical terms and our spaces, fuck those people. I've seen some legitimately triggering shit. Not to mention the terms of system hopping and programming being co-opted by some endos. Pisses us off to no end.

Smol rant about the autism or bpd or other disorders causing systems. Yeah. If you're a traumagenic system, your other disorders are gonna affect it. Our autism heavily plays into it. Our personality disorders do too. Our alters heavily align with a few personality disorders each (even tho the whole system technically has them.) It's gonna affect it. But those disorders themselves don't cause systems. Just...had to add that in as a vent cause omfg. It pisses us off seeing that.

We just feel deeply for some of the ones that are probably OSDD/DID systems and just don't know it. We are the endogenic community having a few sides to it and so this was mostly about the traumagenic systems believing they're mixed origin or endogenic or whatever else.

We just notice a lot of the stuff they claim as endogenic is usually...just actual experiences of DID/OSDD and they just fail to understand it as such. They'll perfectly describe being a traumagenic system then say they aren't one or they're mixed origins. And it's like...you're so close.

Just...really had to get all that off our chest. Especially since endogenics can be especially triggered for our more emotional and aggressive alters like some of our persecutors. We mostly refrain from syscourse since we're dumbasses that are too easily stressed and have more important things to worry about, but we've been hyperfixating and it got to us and our alters this morning. Esp with how endos paint antis. We've seen a lot from both sides as we've tried to understand where we live and what is the truly "correct" option (for lack of a better term.) We've seen the worst of both sides and seen arguments on both sides we can sympathize with. But. We just feel so bad for systems that misunderstand their own experiences and get caught up in endogenic stuff when...it's actually fairly normal for systems to go through and just had to voice our thoughts on it to get it out of our head. Feels like we were going crazy.

Obligatory apology for not being clear and rambling and repeating a lot. We have disorganized speech and are semiverbal so communicating thoughts get rambly and often feel incoherent even if we do make sense. We mostly apologize for our sake and are working on apologizing less. But we still feel the need to apologize and explain to help ease our nerves. Also sorry for long post mostly said for our own anxiety.

We don't have much to say which isn't your fault please don't misunderstand us, it's how you phrased stuff extremely well. We get everything your saying.

Honestly most "endos" are systems in denial which isn't us advocating to go search out your trauma just that they're most likely just in denial.

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disaster-cryptids · 8 months ago

Text

Host's main account (link)

Lizzie's blog that he doesn't even use/lighthearted(link)

Pronouns.cc (link)

I made this account so everyone can do shit. I don't know when it's gonna be used or if it'll be used at all, but yeah. This blog may end up being mostly system oriented.

Introduction

we are the Disaster Cryptids, a P-DID system. Our origin doesn't concern you, and we have strayed away from origin labels in an attempt to salvage the host's sanity. With that being said, we support all systems regardless of their origin(s) and how they function.

We will use a tagging system if all of us keep up with doing so, but will always sign off a post by name. If multiple people pitch in, we will try to make it clear who said what. Said tagging system will use emojis. Here's what each tag will look like (minus the names in parentheses). We're still figuring out a good way to go about using this tagging system, so apologies for any inconsistency as we navigate through this shit lol.

Tagging System

🕷️(Allister)

🌺(Angel)

🦌(Alastor)

🎸😇(Adam)

🐌(Eden)

🕯️(Fierce Deity)

😇(Gabriel)

🐕‍🦺(Host, many names)

⚔️(Huxley)

♾️(Infinite)

📺(Intruder)

🌻(Juniper/Link)

🧨(Knuckles)

🐺(Link)

🐍🍎(Lucifer)

🪲(Lizzie/Cade/Cadence)

🎸(Michael)

🦇🩷(Rouge)

☠️(Red)

🔧(Robotnik)

💥(Surge)

💎(Sonic)

🎺(Sans)

🎭(Sal)

⚫️(Shadow)

⚡️🔩(Tails)

🐇(William)

Extra:

❔(blurry: no idea who said this)

🗑️🔥(Legion: more than one person takes credit/is speaking)

We don't have a DNI, rather we will be enforcing a "you will be blocked on sight" list as that is more effective: System exclusionists, queer exclusionists (yes, pissing yourself about lesboys and mspec lesbians is exclusionary), TERFs and SWERFs, anti self diagnosis fucks, and general dumbasses/bigots. Save yourself the time of screaming at us for whatever reason you may have, please and thank you.

#introduction #intro post #system intro #pro endo #pro all sys origins

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starmapz · 5 months ago

Text

shame on me || chapter three || hard fought

gojo satoru x female vessel reader

wc || 7.9k.

edited but not beta-read.

series masterlist || main masterlist || previous chapter || next chapter

You wake with a jolt to a loud knock on your door, lifting a hand to rub sleep from your eyes. Was it early? Why were you so groggy? You spare a glance at your phone, letting out a deep sigh as you realize it’s nine in the morning. You usually would have been awake by now but yesterday had been long, so you would forgive yourself for sleeping in. Pushing yourself out of bed, you throw on an oversized t-shirt and a pair of sweats, grabbing your sunglasses from the table to answer your door. Even behind your sunglasses, you squint as the sun greets you when you open your door.

You grimace at the sight of none other than Gojo, adorned in his usual black jacket and that frustrating grin.

“Well, don’t you look ready for your first lesson? Wait-!” Gojo reaches out to stop you from slamming the door in his face, narrowly missing his window to do so as you close and lock the door.

Gojo could wait. After all, he hadn’t given you a time to be awake, nor any opportunity to prepare for teaching. Allowing yourself time to quickly shower and throw on a cute black dress and light makeup, you finally open the door again with a coffee in-hand. Gojo had sat on your front step, his chin rested on the heel of his palm, propped up on his leg.

“That was rude,” he mumbles.

You shoot him a sharp glare. “Don’t talk to me about being rude,” you grumble, waving your hand in the air as a signal for him to lead the way.

Without hesitation, he hops to his feet as his familiar devil-may-care attitude returns. Somehow, the sorcerer never seemed phased by your words, frustrating you to no end.

“Listen, Gojo,” your tone is serious as you catch up with him. He tilts his head towards you to indicate that you have his attention. “To be honest, I don’t love the idea of working with you,” your statement earns a hum from Gojo, “but I’m willing to have a professional relationship with you for the sake of the school.” His smirk falters for only a moment. “If you can respect that, then please fill me in.”

Taking on a more serious tone, Gojo’s adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. He continues his stride towards his cabin as he begins, “Yuji Itadori, first year. He learns fast. No technique but he’s skilled in hand-to-hand combat.” Gojo shoves his hands in his pockets as he continues. “He’s got potential, but after the Shibuya incident, the higher-ups are pushing for his execution more by the day.”

You swallow uncomfortably at the thought. He was just a kid, how could anyone push for his execution?

“I agree,” he hums, catching the small action as if reading your mind. “He ate enough fingers that Sukuna was able to take control. He wiped out more people than the special grade attackers did on that night, or even Geto-” he pauses, “-all those years ago.” You nod slowly, remembering the incident in question. “He’s still coming to terms with that. Blames himself,” he grimaces. “I think he could benefit from lessons from someone like you.”

Though you can’t see his eyes behind his blindfold, you feel his gaze on you. Gojo makes his way past his cabin, maneuvering through the trees.

“Like me, huh?” You sigh quietly. You can only pray that you can be the help Yuji needs, but you wouldn’t know until you tried. “Anything else I should know?”

“Sukuna can see and hear everything, as far as I can tell,” he shrugs, running a hand through his white hair. “He’s got his own agenda, but you can probably try talking to him. He answers once in a while.”

You nod. That wasn’t unusual, as far as you knew. Miriko could hear and see everything unless you chose to suppress her, though you figured Yuji didn’t have experience in doing so. Miriko had taught you that skill as a defense mechanism to keep people with their own cursed energy away. People like Gojo. You could likely teach the skill to Yuji in due time.

Striding across a small clearing in the trees, a young boy with salmon hair rises to his feet to meet you. His uniform isn’t unlike Gojo’s, though he has a red hood in replacement of the black collar. He straightens as he formally introduces himself. “You must be y/n-Sensei,” he says with a look of determination.

You chuckle at the formality of it all. “No need to be so formal,” you smile and he seems to relax a bit. A feeling of dread bubbles in the pit of your stomach as you notice the scar across his face and on his lip. He was so young, yet it seemed like he had already been through so much. Not to mention the guilt Gojo had mentioned.

“Gojo said you’re a vessel too, right?” Yuji asks with an excited grin, fiddling with the worn wood of the small picnic table as he intently focuses on your every word. Even with the life-or-death situation Gojo had given you the unfortunate responsibility of, his excitement was heartwarming and endearing.

“I am,” you confirm, glancing towards Gojo who had taken a seat at the other end of the picnic table as he quietly observed. “Am I safe to have Miriko take over here?”

“That’s why we’re out here,” he confirms with a grin and a thumbs up. He leans forward on his elbow, intently observing your every move. It didn’t take a genius to know that Gojo had ulterior motives beyond simply helping Yuji. He wanted to know just how to take you down. How to kill you. You knew better than to reveal your whole hand, however.

You close your eyes, letting Miriko take control as your hair shifts into a silver matching her mane. Her piercing red eyes glow from behind your glasses as she opens them and takes in her surroundings, her pupils small as she focuses on Gojo. He meets her gaze in a mental stand-off between them before she finally turns her attention to Itadori, observing his quiet wonder.

“Wait, so, are you…?” Itadori poses his question with wide eyes.

“Yes. My name is Miriko,” she nods to him. “Nice to meet you, Itadori.”

“Miriko!” An eye opens beneath Yuji’s eye, a toothy smile chuckling lowly beneath the eye. “Long time no see,” Sukuna snickers. “Guess I should have sliced you into more pieces, hm?”

Miriko huffs, eyes narrowing. “I wish I could say it is a pleasure to see you after so long, but I rather wish you had stayed deceased,” she growls, staring at the eye that bored into her own.

“You’re as old as Sukuna?” The young sorcerer asks curiously, glancing down at the irritating curse that had popped out of cheek.

“Mhm, older if anything. Sukuna killed me long ago,” she reveals. This comes as a shock to you as you contemplate the meaning of her being so old. If Sukuna was over one thousand years old, and Miriko was too, what did that mean about some of the information she had told you before? After all, she had said herself that your mother was her first and only vessel until you. Did that mean your mother had found her cursed object only a few decades ago, or did that mean your mother had been alive for hundreds of years? Regardless, it’s not something to bring up around Gojo.

“Why does everyone wanna kill me? I wouldn’t hurt a fly,” Sukuna teases before disappearing entirely. Yuji brings a hand up to his face where the mouth had just been, rubbing at it.

“Sorry ‘bout that, he’s usually quieter,” the boy shrugs. “So, you and y/n work together?” His brow furrows at the thought. Most curses wouldn’t be thrilled to be working with a human, let alone stuck within one, so Miriko was aware that she was a bit of an anomaly.

“We live in harmony,” she replies simply, taking in the two markings beneath Itadori’s eyes as she figured that much like her hair, Itadori likely gained Sukuna’s extra eyes and markings as his tell.

“Are you a special grade curse too?” His jaw slacks open as he asks the question, leaning forward over the table. Miriko nods and Itadori continues his questions. “Why work with y/n? Sukuna won’t do shit if it doesn’t benefit him,” he grumbles, grimacing at the thought of his unfortunate partner.

Miriko pauses, her red eyes cold as she turns her gaze to Gojo. She calmly sizes him up, wondering just how much she wants to admit to the special grade sorcerer. Did she even have a choice at this rate? Could she respond vaguely enough to the boy’s questions to satisfy without going into specifics?

“Sukuna and I are not entirely alike,” she explains, her gaze never once leaving Gojo’s. “I was born long before the time of curses.” She crosses her arms, shaking her head in a very animalistic manner. Although she generally could keep up the facade of being a human, her behavior slipped through the cracks on occasion. The light breeze was refreshing for her and she was enjoying it, given that she had been trapped in her domain for so long now when usually you could more freely swap.

“That’s so cool!” Itadori grins, earning an amused smile from Miriko. “So you’re the curse of…?”

“Death.”

Itadori’s eyes widen, his back straightening as though the word was enough to make him shiver. A special grade curse of death was certainly nothing to bat your eyes at.

“Glad she’s on our side,” Gojo chimes in cheerily from across the table, a pair of narrowed red eyes finding their way to his overly-happy grin. While it was clear he had the capacity to be serious, it seemed as though being around his student somehow made him more frustrating to handle and Miriko found herself retreating into you as she boiled in her own irritation.

You blink as you take in the sunlight, disorientation clearing from your mind.

“Oh, so you’re y/n now, right?”

You nod, pushing your sunglasses up on the bridge of your nose as you shoot him a kind smile. “Enough about me though, we’re here to teach you,” you push the subject away from yourself, feeling a pang of sadness in your chest as the young boy’s face lights up. What if you did have to kill him? No, you couldn’t focus on that right now. Even if it meant helping Gojo and spending time with him, you would need to pour your focus into training him. Maybe, just maybe, it would be enough.

–

You wave to Itadori as he bounds through the trees across the clearing. You had chosen to cut the teaching session short today given that you wanted to put together some sort of a teaching schedule as this was all new to you. You let out a breath, feeling a heavy weight on your shoulders. Not just Yuji, but everyone was relying on you to help him.

The quiet sound of footsteps over the grass beneath you pulls your attention to Gojo. He’s staring down at you with a genuine smile, one that doesn’t fuel your irritation for once.

“He’s a good kid,” your voice is barely a whisper as you stare at the expanse of trees before you where Itadori had disappeared off to.

Gojo hums. “That’s why I needed to find a good teacher,” he smirks.

“Is that why you extorted me?”

“C’moooon, no need to be so dramatic,” he waves his hand dismissively. “Let’s go get lunch.” He begins making his way out of the clearing, stopping only once he realizes you weren’t following. He pauses as he turns back to you with a tilt of his head.

Gojo was smart. Too smart. So how could he not see the way he angered you?

“I’m not going with you,” you sigh with a shake of your head. “I’m going back to the cabin. I need to let Taro out anyway,” you grumble, deciding to wait for him to leave so you could walk back in peace. Unfortunately that moment never comes.

“I don’t bite,” he insists in a sing-song voice, dragging out his last word.

Not willing to humor him, you simply shake your head. A frown pulls at his lips and he brings a hand up to scratch the back of his neck. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Same time,” he waves as he finally gives in and leaves you be.

–

The cool breeze whistling through spring leaves was a welcome feeling over your skin, warm from the harsh sunlight overhead. Though you were still getting accustomed to the general functions of Jujutsu Tech and what it meant for them to be sorcerers, your schedule allowed for a decent amount of time to yourself.

And that was exactly how you spent it, by yourself. Though your thumb had hovered over Nanami’s name in your contacts on more than one occasion, you found yourself constantly reminded that at the end of the day, there was a reason you kept your distance from the world around you.

The only constant in your life was Gojo, much to your dismay. He’d made a habit of asking you to grab lunch despite being constantly turned down and you were starting to think it was getting under his skin. Good.

“In the same way that you imbue a weapon, or even a fist with cursed energy, you should be able to suppress it. Essentially direct it inwards and shield it,” you found yourself explaining to Yuji how you were able to keep hidden for so long. It had been a good couple of weeks since your arrival and Gojo had attended every lesson thus far. You insisted he needn’t do so, but you were fairly certain he was trying to learn more about you regardless.

Gojo was right, Itadori was a quick learner. In just two weeks, you had managed to teach him a decent amount about what you knew as a vessel, though somehow it felt as though you had only scratched the surface.

Itadori’s cursed energy flares for a moment before he gets a grasp on what exactly he’s doing and suppresses his cursed energy. You smile, allowing Miriko to take over as she quickly zips behind Yuji to test whether he can keep his attention on the suppression while remaining quick on his feet. Miriko’s speed didn’t match Gojo’s, let alone Yuji’s, so tracking her shouldn’t be an issue. Yuji turns quickly, just short of being able to divide his attention. Miriko would have been able to strike him, but it wouldn’t take much practice to get a hang of being able to keep up both tasks at once. Miriko nods in approval.

“Good, you were able to stay relatively attentive as well, that will-” Miriko’s eyes widen as her head whips around, wide searing red eyes landing on the guest standing beside Gojo at the edge of the clearing. Miriko retreats, allowing you control. You take a moment to ground yourself, blinking a few times before your gaze lands on Nanami.

Though you wanted to hope he hadn’t seen you, your eyes were locked with one another.

“Shit,” you mutter the curse under your breath, clenching your jaw.

Six Eyes was meant to keep visitors away, Miriko hisses and you sigh. He’d made it obvious enough at this point that he had no intent on earning your trust, so what did it really matter at this point anyway that you were angry with him? He had no regard for your anger either, which only served to make you more upset with him.

With a sigh, you decide it isn’t worth it to remain in a staring match with Nanami, only able to hope he didn’t notice your glowing eyes and hair shift colors. Motioning to Itadori to follow you, you jog to the edge of the clearing.

“y/n,” Nanami greets you with a sidelong nod, repeating the action for Yuji who bounds up behind you.

“Nanamin!” Yuji grins. You shoot a surprised look at Nanami at the nickname, a warm smile spreading across your lips at the exasperated look he shoots at you in return, though in truth you see a warmth flash in his brown eye. “What’re you doing here?”

“I’d like you both to accompany me on a mission.”

“No,” without hesitation, you turn him down. “I don’t fight.”

At that, there’s a pause. The whole group looks confused.

“You’re a sorcerer, aren’t you?” The salmon-haired boy at your side raises a brow.

Looking between the group, Gojo is the only one who seems to understand what you mean, though he’s in no rush to relieve you of the shocked looks from either Yuji or Nanami. Even so, he doesn’t know why you don’t fight. Can’t fight. He smirks at you, leaving you to explain yourself. Why did he feel the need to be so frustrating?

“I-” you pause, looking for words. An excuse. The wind whistles through the trees behind Nanami’s broad form as you search for a response vague enough to leave you out of suspicion, but precise enough to keep questions from bowling you over. “My technique isn’t meant for fighting.”

Nanami flashes Gojo an unreadable look. Gojo just shrugs, the smirk never leaving his face.

“Very well,” Nanami agrees. “I’d like you to accompany me regardless, you won’t need to fight. Gojo can accompany us as well.”

You shake your head again. “I can appreciate the idea, but I’d prefer not to put myself in harm’s way.”

Nanami hums understandingly. “You won’t be in danger, the reported curse is grade two or lower.”

“That’s… weak?” You confirm, tilting your head. Special grade, first grade, it was all relatively new to you and you found yourself constantly questioning the world the Jujutsu Tech sorcerers lived in.

Nanami nods. “I won’t allow it to lay a finger on you,” he assures you.

Pausing, you search Nanami’s gaze for a sign that he was bluffing, but you never found it. In fact, you find your cheeks growing red at the mere thought of such a statement. Your eyes wander, if only for a moment, down to his broad chest, before you swallow and compose yourself. “Fine,” you give in to defeat with a sigh.

“Hell yeah!” Itadori grins, bringing a determined fist up. You smile softly, happy to see him so hopeful, only for your smile to fade into a frown at the bleak realization that he was just a kid and was losing his childhood to a world full of curses and death. He was just a kid and he held himself responsible for the deaths following Sukuna’s rampage in Shibuya.

“Why don’t we all grab a bite to eat first?” As usual, Gojo attempted to get you to join him, only to watch like clockwork as you shake your head.

“I’ll meet you at the gates in an hour,” you deny his company, turning on your heel to head back to your cabin. Your heart jumps as the sound of steps catches up to you, but when you turn it’s not Gojo’s frustrating smirk you’re met with. It’s Nanami’s kind gaze.

“Still not fond of him I see,” he comments, lidded eye trailing over to meet you.

“You could say that,” you chuckle. Aside from the gentle crunch of grass and leaves beneath your feet and the rustling of the leaves above you, the only thing breaking the silence between you was the distant chatter of the two sorcerers whom you had left behind.

“I didn’t intend to force you to accompany me,” the blonde comments, frowning. “You can stay back if you’d like, I know I may not have made it sound like such.” He shoves his hands in his pockets, accompanying you across the open sunny field that led to your cabin. “I believe this case would be beneficial learning for Itadori, however. Gojo mentioned you’ve been working hard.”

“It’s alright, I’m sure it’ll be fine,” your voice is quiet and unconvincing. Nanami frowns at how dry your words are, stopping to face you. In the broad daylight, you can see now just how much of his body is scarred. Burn scars seem to cover the entire left side of his body as far as you can tell, only able to see the skin of his forearms from his rolled-up sleeves and of course his face and neck. You figure his eye is likely missing as well, given his eyepatch. Had a curse done such a thing?

“You’ll be safe,” he reassures you again, brown eye examining you carefully.

“I appreciate it, Nanami.”

“Kento, please.” A smile plays on his lips which you return.

“Well in that case, Kento,” you pause, your eyes crinkling in the corners as you smile warmly at him. “You can come in, if you’d like.” You bounce up the stairs to your cabin, glancing behind you as the blonde man hums and follows you inside. Taro’s barking begins the moment you slot the key into the lock. Immediately he’s at your feet, more excited when he notices Nanami. Nanami chuckles as he leans down to greet the dog, scratching behind his ear.

“Make yourself at home. I was just planning on putting together some ramen.”

“You needn’t-”

“I insist,” you interrupt him. Wood creaks beneath your feet as you make your way into the kitchen, putting together the rather small amount of ingredients that were in your fridge to make what was at least a half-decent meal. At least it wasn’t instant.

Nanami takes a seat at your dining room table, pulling the weapon that he carried off his back and placing it precariously against the wall. A comfortable silence falls over you both and when you glance in his direction, you notice he seems to have let his guard down, content as he allows himself a break and seems to stare distantly at the worn wood of the table. He looks tired.

Turning your attention back to the pot before you, you hesitantly remove your glasses as the steam rising from the boiling water coats them in a layer of fog. Tending to the food, you bask in the comfortable silence as you allow Nanami to relax.

As you’re beginning to wrap up cooking, he breaks the silence. “Thank you for cooking.”

Not considering that your sunglasses are sitting off to the side, you glance back at him, striking crimson eyes meeting his gaze. You smile in response, though his reaction catches you off-guard. His eye widens briefly before narrowing in turn as he investigates and examines your supernatural irises. You avert your eyes, focusing on the soup as you swallow the lump in your throat.

“How’s Itadori doing?” His words come as a surprise, as well as a relief. If nothing else, at least he still trusts you, despite your secrets.

“Good,” you hum, clearing your throat as your voice breaks. “You were right, he’s a good kid. Kento seems satisfied with the statement. “How’s… work?” Your words come out as a question as you debate whether being a sorcerer is a profession. “Do you get paid?”

Kento chuckles. “I do get paid,” he responds. “It’s been quieter recently.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “It was troublesome after the Shibuya incident. Though many of the stronger curses are out of the picture, there were far too many curses in general compared to sorcerers.”

A pang of guilt tugs at you as you complete the finishing touches on the ramen, adoring each bowl with half an egg. Though you knew Kento didn’t intend his words to come off in such a manner (he was too kind for that), you couldn’t help but feel as though you should have helped. You knew of the amount of curses, but you had to remind yourself that unlike most techniques, yours came at a cost too great to use on the regular.

Setting a bowl in front of Nanami, he quietly thanks you, taking a brief pause to examine your eyes more closely before he begins eating.

“Were you there? In Shibuya?” You ask between bites.

“Yes,” the air grows tense very suddenly. Kento pauses, his shoulders hunched before he takes a breath and relaxes again. Taking the hint that you’d struck a nerve, you choose to move on.

“Hey, um,” you lean back in your chair, the sun cascading through the blinds as golden rays hit your cheek, warming them further than the ramen already had. “Are you okay?”

The words seem to surprise him as he sits up. “I’m well,” he responds curtly, guarded. He takes a breath as he decides to give into your kind question after a moment. “I suppose I’m just a bit worn out,” he admits. He turns his head to stare out the window as he contemplates something silently.

“It doesn’t seem easy,” you comment as you watch his expression shift to a more somber one, “being a sorcerer.”

“No,” he agrees, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “You’re wise to avoid it.” Sighing, you both continue eating your ramen in relative silence. Nanami finishes first, clearing his throat. “One of these days my luck will run out.” Your brow furrows as you observe the subtle way his lips downturn and his chest seems to clench. You tilt your head at him, a sign for him to continue. “Every time I look in the mirror I’m reminded that this,” he motions to his general left side of his body, completely scarred and missing an eye, “is from the day I was lucky.”

Worrying your lip between your teeth, you uneasily follow his motions. No wonder he was worn out. Was this injury from Shibuya? Likely.

Can you heal him?

Unlikely, Miriko replies. Healing you and I is different from others. And while I can reverse death, I do need a body. I believe given that this isn’t death I couldn’t do much.

“I’m sorry Kento,” your voice is quiet, barely breaking through the silence. You’re not sure what else to say. What else to do. Nanami is silent as he stares down at the bowl in front of him. After a long pause, he sighs and pushes himself up from the table, bringing his bowl along with him and beginning to wash it. “Oh you don’t have to-”

“It’s my pleasure,” he interrupts you, shooting you a smile that eases your discomfort. “I appreciate the lunch.”

You smile, relaxing a bit as you join him at the sink, taking your turn to wash your bowl as well. Your arm brushes against his and you spare a glance at the way the muscles in his forearms flex as he runs the bowl under the water. Your wandering gaze catches Nanami’s attention and he hums. Heat rises on your cheeks as you focus on the bowl you were cleaning, maybe focusing a bit too hard as you miss his amused question.

“y/n?”

“Hm?” You stare up curiously at him, eyes wide like a deer in the headlights. The corners of his eyes crinkle as he smiles.

“I asked if you would like me to take over,” he repeats himself with a motion towards your bowl as you purse your lips.

“O-oh! No, that’s okay.” Heat dusts the tips of your ears as you avert your gaze. His chest quietly rumbles and you wonder if he’s laughing, but before you have the time to think about it, he interrupts your thoughts.

“Are you ready to leave?”

You nod, pushing aside the feeling of getting caught staring at him as you glance back at your cabin. Setting your bowl in the sink, you dry your hands as Nanami picks his weapon back up. With a quick goodbye to Taro, you trail after Nanami, shooting him a grateful look as he hands you your glasses. You aren’t sure why he doesn’t seem interested in questioning you on the secrets you were so obviously keeping from him, but you’re grateful nonetheless.

Locking the door, you turn to follow the blonde sorcerer, who takes a moment to wait for you to fall into step with him.

“Thanks for having lunch with me, Kento.” You grin up at the tall man, your heart warm at the thought of having company. Aside from visiting your dad whenever you were in town, you hadn’t had the opportunity to spend time with someone in such a long time that it was a very welcome feeling. Perhaps you’d been lonelier than you thought after all these years of distancing yourself from everyone in order to keep safe.

“Thank you for lunch,” he returns your smile, his expression softening. “We should do it again sometime,” his voice holds an intonation that you don’t recognize, one that makes your heart skip a beat. Your grin turns sheepish as heat dusts your face once more, however as you approach the gates of the school, Gojo calls to you before you can respond to Kento.

“You guys ready?” The white-haired man calls out to you.

“I believe so,” Nanami responds, rolling his shoulders as he assesses the group.

Though he still wears his blindfold, you can feel Gojo’s gaze on you, the frown on his face telling. What he was frowning about, you couldn’t be sure. His head flicks between you and Nanami before all thoughts seem to get pushed aside as he grins. “Field trip!”

With a grimace at his enthusiasm that matched that of his student, you all pile into the car as Ijichi takes you to Tokyo.

–

Since your arrival at Jujutsu High, you hadn’t had the chance to visit Tokyo. You’d grown accustomed to the breeze that ran across the school’s fields and rustled the leaves in the trees that surrounded your cabin. Tokyo’s hustle and bustle had never been something you were fond of, especially given the need to suppress your cursed energy and shut Miriko out, but now as neither a sorcerer nor a human, you carried with you the strange sensation of not belonging in either world. Something you supposed Miriko had likely grown accustomed to after all these years.

Ijichi parks across the street from an abandoned strip mall on the outer portion of Ginza and casts a veil over the area, trapping the four of you inside while he remains safely outside.

“Stay near me,” Nanami’s voice is low, intended for only you to hear as he briefly sets a reassuring hand on your shoulder. You nod, keeping close behind the blonde sorcerer. Gojo trails a small distance behind the group, hands in his pockets as he walks with a nonchalance that burns a fire in your stomach. He couldn’t take a damn thing seriously, could he?

A clanging noise causes you to jolt as you search for the source of the noise, spotting only a rock near a sheet of metal and a very guilty looking grin on Gojo’s face. You’re ready to tell him off when Nanami suddenly stops. You just barely manage to not collide with him, peeking out from around him to see what he was staring at.

A small weasel skitters across the pathway before you and into an alley. Only, it wasn’t a weasel at all. Though it looked relatively normal, its green fur gave away that it was a curse.

I do not understand curse grading, however I believe you were led astray.

“Hm?” You hum questioningly aloud at Miriko’s question, catching Nanami’s glance.

Whatever resides nearby is stronger than I expected.

Your eyes widen and you turn your attention back to Kento. “Remind me, how strong is a grade two curse?”

“Weak enough to take down with a gun, in relative terms.”

“I don’t get the feeling that this is a grade two curse,” you mumble, exchanging a glance with Itadori who’s nodding in agreement. Gojo is still, having stopped a short distance away and seemingly looking around. He had obviously caught on as well.

Another small weasel-like creature skitters between Itadori’s feet. “Hey!” He yells in surprise, reaching down to try to grab it. It slinks out of his grasp, a snicker escaping its parted maw as it skitters down a corridor between buildings.

“Should I go after it?”

Nanami nods. “You’re the quickest of us. See if you can draw something out.”

You watch Itadori’s movements, hoping that you might be able to catch onto how he currently uses his cursed energy. This would be a good learning opportunity for you to determine how best to teach him, after all.

The sounds of Itadori’s steps began to fade as silence fell over your group, awaiting his return. A clang. A screech. Footsteps. Itadori emerges from between the buildings with the creature writhing in his hands.

“I get the feeling this isn’t the curse,” he mutters, exorcizing the critter effortlessly. He claps his hands together, wiping them in disgust on the fronts of his pants. Before he can come back to join you, his eyes widen. “Oh shit, look out!” He calls, having noticed a much larger curse approaching from the side. The curse was blocked by the figure of the man beside you and Gojo was paying it little mind, while it remained in Nanami’s blind spot, unable to see what Itadori was looking at.

Without thinking, you grab Kento’s hand, dragging him out of reach of the gaping mouth of a curse with a toad-like appearance and green, bulbous skin adorned in large red cysts. It hurdles towards you once more, but Nanami is prepared this time. Or at least you think he is, despite the fact that his weapon is incredibly blunt. You’re not sure what its use would be, but you also aren’t about to doubt him.

The curse huffs and grunts as it moves with great effort just in time to avoid a hit from Nanami, who it had clearly chosen to be the larger threat, putting the brute of its focus into avoiding his blunt knife. Yuji wasn’t to be underestimated however, striking with enough force to incapacitate the curse long enough for it to lose its leg to… a blunt knife? You take a couple of steps back, deciding to keep clear of the battle so as not to endanger yourself or distract Kento or Yuji.

One final step back and you accidentally collide with something strong. Turning your gaze, Gojo’s grin is the first thing you meet and you jolt forward, huffing.

“Watch your step,” the sorcerer teases smugly, entirely too amused at your reaction. Even so, he quickly returns his focus to whatever he was doing previously, removing his blindfold. “That’s not the only curse here,” he says, striking blue eyes seeming to glow as he evaluates the area beneath the veil. His demeanor is unlike that of Kento or Yuji. Gojo’s eyes are filled with intrigue despite the immense amount of focus he was putting into whatever it was he was so focused on. He was having fun.

You follow his gaze, focusing yourself on its location, but before you have the time to do so, Gojo wraps you in his arms, moving you out of the way in a blink of an eye. Your lips part in shock, reorienting yourself from where you now stood on the opposite side of the battle Nanami and Yuji were already fighting. Gojo’s arms return to his sides, his wide stare one that could strike fear into any enemy as he focuses on your new assailant. The curse standing opposite you both is humanoid, it seems to be cut from the same cloth as the weasel and toad-like curses but this one holds a clearly larger amount of intelligence.

The curse’s skin is green like the toad’s, but its build is slender and muscular, its movement more similar to an ape. You shiver at the sight, taking a look at your group. The toad seems to be nearly incapacitated as Nanami takes a step back, turning to face the new assailant.

Something is off.

Gojo seemed to be on the same page as Miriko, letting Nanami and Itadori handle the new curse in front of you. Gojo’s narrowed eyes shift around the setting as he attempts to pinpoint the source of cursed energy, but his attempts fail as more and more tiny weasel-like curses begin making their way out of the alleyways.

“Is Miriko capable of fighting?” Gojo’s serious tone sends fear up your spine.

“Yeah,” you follow his gaze as he evaluates what could only be described as a horde of tiny curses. Not dangerous on their own or even in this large of a group, but they all seem to move in sync, as if they weren’t all separate beings.

“Miriko, why don’t you fight?” His narrowed gaze is now on you. A mouth filled with jagged teeth opens from your hand.

“Death is a costly burden to bear, Six Eyes.”

Gojo hums. “I see.”

You gasp as Nanami’s back brushes against your shoulder suddenly, the humanoid curse’s tail lashing against his blade. It swipes its claws past his blade, snickering as Nanami hisses at the contact of its claws.

“Kento!” You gasp, but he’s already chasing after the curse as it bounds back. You take a step forward, concern building uncomfortably in your chest at the sight of blood seeping through his blue shirt.

“He’s fine,” Gojo’s voice is, unmistakably, a grumble? Confused, you turn to look at him but he pays you no mind.

Before you can question the snowy-haired sorcerer, a weasel slinks over your foot and you jump. The weasels all begin to move in a pattern, backing you nearly into Gojo when a shadow on the concrete wall beside you begins to twist, a bleak pair of white eyes following your every miniscule movement.

Gojo’s arm wraps around your core again, much to your frustration as he pulls you out of reach of the curse that begins to crawl from the wall, strange gangly limbs hanging from its slender figure. Much like the other two curses and weasels, its body was a sickening green with red cysts covering its figure and form. Most notably, a small glowing light dangled from an appendage on its forehead. Each time it flashed, the weasels would move as though they were one single organism. While the ape-like curse had exhibited a level of intelligence, it paled in comparison to this one.

“Gojo! Keep the damage to a minimum!”

Gojo groans at Nanami’s words, like a child being told he wouldn’t get ice cream. He mumbles something to himself about Nanami being a pain. Suddenly overly aware of being tucked against the sorcerer’s body, you writhe and push against him.

“Let me go,” you hiss.

“Can you cooperate for once?” His blue eyes pierce into yours, nose wrinkled as he argues with you unnecessarily. The slender green creature’s body contorts strangely and just when you think it’s about to throw itself at you and Gojo, its appendage flashes and weasels throw themselves at you. None reach you, however. Gojo grins, flashing you a cocky look that has you groaning at him. Each one is stopped mere inches from either you or Gojo.

“That the best you got?” Gojo taunts, moving you out of reach in the blink of an eye before he chases after the curse. Thankful to be out of the sorcerer’s grasp, you move closer to Nanami, finally able to get a better look at his injury, as well as evaluate Itadori’s skills.

Although you were keeping a watchful eye on your surroundings, something slips through the cracks mere moments before Itadori finishes off the humanoid curse. Teeth sink into your side, blood seeping out from the massive bite marks. A strangled gasp parts your lips as your eyes widen in shock.

Without a moment’s thought, Miriko takes over, eyes flashing a bright red as her technique spreads through the smaller toad-like curse with sharp teeth. Gray cracks spread through its small body before it shatters into dust. Death.

Unable to pay mind to the injury, Miriko joins Itadori and Nanami as they finish up with their battle. Gojo is shortly behind them, making short work of the curse despite its immense strength. Although it pained you, and even more so Miriko to admit it, he had a reason to act as high and mighty as he did. It didn’t make him any less irritating.

Gojo claps his hands together with a grin. “See, that wasn’t so bad now, was it y/n?”

Miriko retreats into your body and you open your mouth for a sassy retort, but a strangled noise interrupts you. Blood seeps from the corner of your mouth, jaw slack with pain.

“Miriko?” Your strangled plea for help barely meets the ears of the panicked group around you as you collapse. Nanami catches you in time to prevent you from colliding with the concrete, taking no time to haul you into his arms.

I apologize y/n, i believe your kidney is ruptured.

No shit. Unable to focus your gaze, you attempt to focus on your wound. Miriko had healed the external wound from the curse, however when she extinguished the weak creature with her own cursed technique, clearly the cost had been your kidney due to its close proximity to the bite.

“Shit, y/n!” Nanami’s words finally make it through to you and you meet his desperate gaze. Though you recognize the timbre of their voices around you, you can’t make out anything the other two sorcerers are saying. If only you had explained to anyone just how your technique worked.

“Park,” you cough, blood spurting from your mouth. “Plea-”

Kento doesn’t need more of an explanation, making an effort to talk to you and keep you conscious as he makes a quick pace to the park a couple of blocks away that you had noticed on the way into the concrete jungle that was the strip mall. His fingers grip your body carefully, like you were a flower so delicate he couldn’t bear the thought of a scratch on you. Though you knew he was talking, you couldn’t make sense of most of his words. Your consciousness was beginning to fade, you wanted nothing more than to retreat and let Miriko take over, though you knew she was focused on preventing the spread of her technique past your kidney.

Kento gently sets you down in front of a tree, unsure of what more to do from here. “Is this-?” Startled, he takes a step back when the grass beneath you shrivels and grays, the tree behind you cracking and snapping under the pressure of its life being stolen in little more than a second.

The three sorcerers before you could all only watch as your breathing steadies slowly, though you were still relatively weak from the injury. Miriko’s technique wasn’t so simple like others were. You weren’t special grade for your overwhelming fighting abilities, but rather how difficult it was to heal from your technique. How deathly it was. More often than not, it was easier to drop a limb and heal it than to attempt to heal death itself before it could spread, but Miriko wasn’t able to do such a thing in your body, so much more fragile than hers.

Coughing, you spit out blood, your head rolling to the side as you catch your breath. Nanami is kneeling directly in front of you now, mahogany gaze filled with concern. Your heart skips a beat at how heartwarming it is to have someone care for you, especially in a moment like this. In all your time living with Miriko, you had made every effort to avoid using her technique on anything beyond flora. To experience it yourself for an extended period of time was a new, and exhausting, feeling.

Itadori’s gaze is on the splintered tree that seemed to threaten to teeter over at any moment while Gojo quietly stands with piercing blue eyes taking in your every movement. As usual, he was evaluating you.

“You gave me a scare there, y/n.” Kento’s expression is warm as he gently runs a finger down your jaw, tilting your head to either side as he checks you over for any further injuries.

“Sorry,” your voice is hoarse and you clear your throat, the taste of blood remaining fresh on your tongue. “I ruptured my kidney with my technique,” you explain quietly, mindlessly bringing a hand up to where the pain had been mere moments ago. “Thanks for bringing me here, Ken-” a cough cuts you off. No more blood, at the very least.

“No need to thank me,” he shakes his head, regret flashing through his eye. “I apologize for bringing you here in the first place. I will be having some words with the Window who provided the report.” There’s a subtle anger to his voice but it fades when he speaks again. “Let’s get you home,” he reaches his hand out for you to take. Taking his hand, you take a moment to steady yourself, your gaze distant as you orient yourself. There’s a strange ache in your side sending fog to your brain and leaving you feeling somewhat lost.

“You okay, y/n?” Itadori’s voice is strained in concern, wide eyes staring at you. It takes you a moment to process his question before you nod, sending a reassuring smile his way. That seems to satisfy his concern as he lets out a breath.

Your eyes shift to Gojo, whose expression is unreadable as he stares at you unmoving. Your mind is too muddled to bother with trying to decipher the sorcerer either way and you direct your attention to Nanami.

“Steady?” He asks quietly, one hand still steadying you while the other ghosts your upper arm in case you were to collapse. You nod slowly, taking a breath as you follow his lead. Itadori bounds up to Gojo ahead of you, the two loudly snickering over something unrelated. His demeanor around you could be studied, he was so confusing.

“I owe you an explanation,” you tell Nanami, the warmth from his hand keeping you grounded. Before he can insist you don’t (and he was planning on doing so), you launch into a short explanation of your technique, and Miriko. You do try to keep quiet, but Gojo’s occasional glance back isn’t lost on you.

Nanami’s eye is wide as he stares down at you. “So that curse attacking near your kidney caused the technique to backfire into your kidney?”

You nod slowly. “The technique is too strong for my body,” you explain. “She doesn’t have the same issue in her full form. That’s why I need to pull life from something living to heal myself from her technique, but not for regular injuries.”

“Right.”

“Sorry I didn’t tell you, Kento.”

His brow raises. “You don’t owe me any explanations,” he smiles reassuringly, shifting the hand you were holding to his other hand so that he can set his opposite hand on the small of your back. “I’m just pleased that you’re safe.”

Shivering at his touch, you feel your cheeks heat up. Unfamiliar feelings bubble in your chest, feelings you had chosen to detach yourself from many years ago when Miriko’s presence had awoken. You swallow the lump of uncertainty in your throat, choosing to relax into Kento’s presence. Just for a moment, you could allow yourself to enjoy someone’s presence.

Maybe with him being a sorcerer, things wouldn’t be so bad.

Maybe for once, you could let go and not worry about the danger.

Just maybe.

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a/n || Hope you all enjoy! Thanks again for all the support ♡ We've officially hit the end of what is fully pre-written so my next updates will unfortunately be further apart but I already have the two main plot points and their connections fully fleshed out so at the very least I can assure you it shouldn't take me too long!

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