#i’m excited to write but the head is 😵‍💫

[foolishlovers]

ok new day!! lots of time to write on my next good omens project!! let’s gooo

[carlos-tk]

sometimes i can’t believe i was posting wips every single wednesday and sunday for literal months like who even was that person

[campirefangs]

dressing up and going to a wedding today so naturally all I can think about is someone helping me put on my tie before the event, knowing full well they’re going to use my same tie to restrain me after

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

:((((((((( i ran out of tags . tumblr hates to see me thrive!!!!!!!

ok niku just . read the tags first and then come back here ok 🙏🙏 i have a lot i still need to say this is so important to me . this fic changed my life .

(WARNING this got long ….. really long ….. mysteriously. i got carried away 💔 PLS don’t feel the need to respond to any of this btw i mean that sincerely i know this is kind of a Lot i just need you to know much i adored this fic <3333)

BACK TO GOJO ok so his talk w reader…… it was just so satisfying to see them finally get to tell someone about their experience. it must’ve been such a great feeling for them !!!! to get some of it off their chest :((( … and to have Gojo Fucking Satoru our safe harbour of a man there to believe them and listen to them and reassure them. he’s so mature when it comes down to it and you captured that so well…… like as much as he acts childish and teasing this is exactly how i picture him interacting w someone he doesn’t know in a situation like this!! he’s flirty and unserious but he tells you he’ll protect you and means it. (i’m so down bad it physically hurts)

sorry i’m abt to go on a tangent i think BUT I JUST 😔😔 really… REALLY love their dynamic…. how it evolves so much even though he doesn’t even know reader exists for most loops!! and to them he’s just this beautiful Something that they can’t help but look at…… ”inhumanly attractive” is a great way to put it like he’s just….. this magnetic force……….. and i feel like even before they speak to him for the first time they probably find some kind of hope in him.

AND that’s so important bc to me that’s like . the main Theme of the fic? hope. reader has to find some kind of hope to make it through shibuya and more often than not they find it in gojo!!! in just seeing a familiar handsome face, in learning how to navigate the timeline through his actions, in talking to him and finally having him on their side. their choice to trust him fully at the end just made me soooo insane. and obv the hope theme continues even after that because gojo believes in them!!! believes that they’ll be okay in the prison realm….. more on that later actually bc i Still. have a lot to talk abt 😔👉👈 i’m just wildly flipping through my notes at this point i’m sorry to throw this at u when we’ve barely interacted but in my defense this fic reached into my actual skull and started rewiring my brain so!!!! yeah.

i got completely sidetracked there but . yes!! the conversation between them when gojo gets sent back in time is. so good!!!!! so wonderfully written!!!!! i haven’t mentioned it that much yet i think but i love your writing i devoured every line…… i struggle w the flow of my own writing SO much but this just flows so incredibly well??? it was sm fun to read????? and the rhythm of the paragraphs (that sounds. Insane but i hope u know what i mean 😭😭) is so distinct!!! and ofc there are SO many banger lines in this in general…. the gore descriptions and the lines abt reader and their fixation on hope. on gojo!! ”He's a terrifying sort of beauty and you can't help but be captivated by him.” <- this is just one example but!! idk i’m just so enamored by ur writing style.

and the dialogue!!!!!!!! i cried!!!!!! it’s so consistently gojo…. him going all ”oh?” ”interesting…” but not explaining anything … the ”ding ding ding!” after making reader guess what he should just be telling them (it’s the teacher in him <33) AND AND AND these too!!!! :3

“Just think of it like having a lot of MP.”

“You know, your technique kind of reminds me of save scumming.” 

THEY JUST FEEL SO CANON that’s our gojo…… that’s exactly what he would say…… he’s so unserious and so funny and so charming 😔😔 sigh.

ANDDDDD reader telling him good luck!!!! gojo beaming and squeezing their shoulder!!!!! the lil wave!!!!! 🥺🥺 that made me smile so wide niku he’s so infuriatingly cute . it felt so genuine!!!! pls know that this gojo will probably live in my brain forever like genuinely . i’ve been brainrotting over him all week and this was the final nail in the coffin. i’ll never be free.

ok but also !!!! extremely important !!!!!!! before i get to the ending i just need to tell u . how much i loved kenjaku in this ……….. kenjaku nation (me & six others) will never forget these crumbs of content like he just feels so real!!!!! and he’s so interesting!!!!! made me realize how truly down bad i am for him bc these lines made me so fucking happy 😭😭 brain started releasing serotonin like CRAZY i’m so ashamed.

“You can come out, you know.”

”How interesting.”

"I'll be nice, though. I'll make it painless."

…….. he’s just ….. yeah. yeahhhhh. 😔😔 i’ll never be normal abt him. i think it’s SUCH an interesting detail that he always makes reader’s death painless in every single loop…. he never lies about it. that feels so in character to me too!!! he’s kinda fascinated at first and when that interest disappears he kills them. but he doesn’t make it unecessarily cruel because there’s just. no need. kenjaku is a sicko but he’s oddly polite at times and i’m just……. yeah. gonna need you to take over for gege akutami actually 🙏🙏 get in the writer’s chair!!! the fandom needs u!!!!!

wait while we’re on this topic pls just know the entire confrontation between reader and kenjaku was one of my favorite moments in the entire fic <333 not JUST because i’m a kenny stan ok……… reader’s resignation and ”I appreciate it.” made my brain spin because it’s just . kinda chilling? kinda sick? that they aren’t even really afraid of death anymore… or more like they’re just so frighteningly used to it.

AND AND ANDDDD niku your writing in this scene 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 gutted me like a fish.

Time doesn't flow in the box. He didn't lie. You die again.

i exploded btw . ackkk i wish i could explain it better i just!!! :< adore your writing. these lines made me go completely batshit they’re just so good. and the ”time doesn’t flow in the box” line … how that ties in with the ending and reader’s choice. whewww.

segway time <3333 this is the final rant i promise!!! i just need to talk about the ending bc it was so perfect and like many other things in this fic it made me insane …. have i said that already …. probably at least a couple times 😔👉👈 it’s true ok!! it’s just sooo interesting to me and obviously so wellwritten and fitting and just. thematically ties everything together so well? i was FLOORED

hhhhh i don’t know where to begin so i’ll just start w the final convo between reader and gojo :> he asks for their name !!!!!!! i cried !!!!!!!!!! calling someone by their name or knowing their name as a form of like . Closeness or Affection is one of my greatest weaknesses and i also think it’s soooo telling that GOJO wants to know Your Name. he wants to know you. to hear that from someone who seems so inhumanly beautiful and violent….. for him to kind of extend a final olive branch and attempt to connect w you :((((( it just says so much without spelling it out and i. started chewing at my desk. it’s so good!!!!!!! such a genius way to tie everything together!!!! and reader’s final words to him…

“Thank you, Satoru Gojo.” You burn the glittering glow of his brilliant bright blue eyes into your mind.  And then, everything is engulfed in an unending black. 

first of all!!! so so sooooo pretty. wowow. second of all THE THANK YOU ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️ that’s also such a perfect conclusion…….. reader finally put their trust in someone and had that faith returned. and they thank him!!!! i like to think it means something to gojo too…. likeeee how often do people really thank him for what he does? how often is his hard work to protect people acknowledged and appreciated? sorry to bring gojo back into the discussion all the time sadly i AM in love w him….. 😔😔 and this fic made it worse so technically it’s your fault. kind of.

okay so my brain is kinda spinning away again so i’ll get to the final final thing!!!! for real this time!!!!! reader’s decision to be imprisoned in gojo’s stead… that’s so . genius? i’m so in awe??????? it makes so much sense from a character perspective based on what they’ve been through — after being at the mercy of time for so long, wouldn’t it be nice to be free of it? completely? it’s almost kind of chilling and just the idea of it scares me LMAO but it makes sm sense that reader would be drawn to it.

AND like i mentioned before!!! how it leads to a deeper connection between them and gojo, and how at the very end of the fic he’s the one who has faith in them. faith that they’ll be alright, of sound mind.

…… and that brings me to the final final final thing because. it’s just like the opening poem!! reader is the cat in the box. nobody can say for sure if they’re alright, not to mention alive, until the box is opened. and we don’t get to know!!! you leave us on a cliffhanger and that’s so good bc it really is like the cat in the box…. we can only wonder but it also gives us the freedom to decide for ourselves if we think they come out okay or not and i’m just………….. in love. with this fic. and the ending and the reader and gojo and you.

hopefully you’ve noticed atp but i really did go completely insane reading this 😭😭 i said it at the beginning but just to reiterate!!: for SURE one of my all time favorite gojo fics . AND loopfics in general…. thank you sm for your hard work :’3 aaaa i can’t tell u how much i admire the time you spent working on this??? your storytelling and writing and characterization skills????? i genuinely feel sooo giddy and excited and happy rn bc. i just adored this fic!!!! i’m so lucky i got to read it!!!!! :33 pls pat your gojo on the head from me and let him know i love him…. it’ll boost his ego but that’s a risk i’m willing to take 😔😔 i hope you have theeeee loveliest day or night a human being can have bc you made mine <3333333

beyond the unending night (reader + satoru gojo)

notes: it's finally here. the long awaited halloween fic. yes, i know it's march, but i did start working on it in september. haha. there's so much i could say, but i will leave it at that this fic is, in every sense, a fic that i would not normally write. and yet here we are.

contains: f!reader (no physical description or gendered language is used), no explicit romantic pairing (though you don't have to look hard to find the reader x gojo implications), major character death (played with), semi-graphic depictions of death, blood and violence, minor suicide ideation, canon retelling (lines of dialogue are pulled from the jjk english dub because i'm a dirty dub watcher). opening poem is from higurashi no naku koro ni (minagoroshi-hen). fic title is from giga's beyond the way.

please note that this is a time loop fic and, by nature contains repeating scenes (particularly from canon). please do not read this fic if you do not like that sort of thing.

wc: 21,883 read on ao3 (account required)

Please tell me what happened in this night. It's like the cat inside the box.

Please tell me what happened in this night. You don't know if the cat in the box is dead or alive. Please tell me what happened in this night. The cat in the box was dead.

The first time, it is instant— you don’t even know what’s happening.

The second, it is by flame, but you barely realize it, barely feel it— a second of mind numbing heat before nothing.

The third time, it is something slicing across your throat; you see the blood spilling everywhere, then the pain follows— a moment of pure agony before nothing.

The fourth time you realize what’s going on; what’s really going on.

You realize you’ve been dying.

You think your head is going to explode.

At first, you think it’s because the subway platform is crowded, insanely so— there are hundreds of people shoved into this space alongside you, packed like sardines in a can. You’ve never been one for crowds, but it’s the reality of things when you live in Tokyo. For the most part, you’ve learned to accept it, but even this crowd is a little much and you wish you hadn’t listened to your friends when they said you should go party in Shibuya for Halloween; you don’t even like partying.

There’s a sharp pain in your temple followed by a thought so loud that it feels like someone is screaming it at you through a megaphone positioned right next to your ear.

It’s the night of October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

For the eighth time.

Before you can even question the thought, images flash in your mind’s eye, blurry at first before they come into focus. The platform gates open. Chaos ensues. People dropping onto the subway tracks— spontaneously bursting into flame— their heads, necks sliced off, stomachs cut open—

Bile rapidly builds up in your throat, and you clamp your jaw shut, trying to force it down. Not here. Not now. You try to focus on something else, anything else happening outside of your brain. There’s a pair next to you musing about the people standing on the subway tracks, wondering what the two (the four?) of them are talking about. You blink back tears as you look. You can only see two: a freakishly tall man with white hair dressed in all black, and another man, dressed in strange, yet more traditional looking garb. Are those costumes too? You don’t have a lot of time to think about it as another image forces its way into your brain.

Your corpse— lifeless on the ground.

Your corpse— burning to ash.

Your corpse— bleeding out.

You can’t hold it in any more. Every fiber in your being screams at you to get away from the subway tracks, but instead you rush toward them, shoving people left and right as your hands desperately reach the stability of the gate. You grip it like a lifeline as you retch over the side of it, the contents of your stomach spilling all over the subway tracks.

There’s a quiet murmur of disgust behind you but you can’t be bothered to respond. You need to get out of here. You need to leave. You need to do it before—

The gates open and the crowd starts to move like a tidal wave, pushing and shoving their way through the gate. You’re swept away, vomit long forgotten as you and a few dozen others tumble onto the railway.

Alarm bells go off in your brain, loud and deafening. A voice in the back of your head screams for you to get off the track! Get off the track now before—

The platform erupts into a cacophony of screams, drenched in horror, saturated in fear. You are surrounded by people, by corpses— beheaded, sliced open, bursting into flames.

Your terror roots you to the ground as the carnage ensues around you. It’s only when another person, another corpse, dressed in a magical girl costume collides with your body that you can finally move. But it’s too late, you realize, despaired and helpless, as your bodies fall to the ground.

It’s too late.

You die an eighth time.

You think your chest is going to explode.

At first, you think it’s because it’s so hard to breathe, frustratingly so— there are hundreds of people squeezed into this space alongside you, packed like cattle for slaughter. You've never been one for crowds, but it’s the reality of things when you’re in Shibuya. For the most part, you’ve come to accept it, but this crowd is way too much and you wish you had just stayed home and ordered a pizza; though honestly, the thought of pizza kind of makes you sick.

There’s a dull throbbing in your forehead, followed by a thought so loud that it feels like someone’s hollering at you from a loudspeaker that’s been installed in your brain.

It’s the night of October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

You think it's the ninth time now.

Behind you, you hear a woman screaming, her voice crazed and terrified. You turn your head automatically to look at her and when you see her you realize you recognize her yellow and white magical girl costume. You can say with certainty that you’ve never seen her before and yet—

Before you can ruminate more on it, images— memories assault your mind’s eye with a clarity that is absolutely sickening. That woman colliding into you, your bodies slamming into the subway tracks before you both— Your stomach churns violently,

and you feel like you’re going to puke, but you force it down— can't afford to right now. Instead, you make your way over to the woman.

Her head is in her hands as she mutters over and over again about how everyone is going to die. People around her figure that being stuck in here with the crowd has probably gotten to her. You, however, know better.

“...hey,” you say softly.

Her muttering comes to an abrupt halt and slowly she raises her head to look at you. There’s a flash of recognition in her eyes and she grabs you violently by the shoulders. “You! You know, don’t you? That we’re going to die?”

If it weren’t for the fact that you have indeed experienced death here eight times already, then you would have thought she’s lost her mind. Slowly, you nod and she seems relieved by it, her grip on you loosening.

You can’t help but feel a little relieved too— glad to know that you’re not the only one experiencing this nightmare. There’s a voice in the back of your mind that’s confused though. Why is she only remembering now? But then again, it took you a few times before you realized yourself.

Around you people start to gasp, and you glance back toward the railway to see an abnormally tall man with white hair and dressed in all black jump down from the atrium onto the railway. He lands rather gracefully for someone who jumped at least one floor and starts to converse with the other three people (you think they're people— two of them are in some pretty wild costumes) on the track.

Wait. Isn’t it supposed to be just two people: the tall man and the one in the traditional clothes? Where did the other two come from?

“We have to get out of here,” the woman says. “Before they kill us.”

Her grip shifts from your shoulders to your arms and she starts to shove at everyone around you, trying to force her way through. She seems to know, just as well as you do, that any second now the gates will open and the crowd will start spilling onto the railway, littering the tracks with bodies and ash. Neither of you can let yourselves get swept up with the rest. If you do and you end up on those tracks, you’re as good as dead.

People move aside at a snail's pace, many of them too focused on trying to see what is going on on the subway tracks. This isn't good. You need to move faster or else—

The collective sound of the gates opening echoes in your head, a metallic hiss that makes your stomach fold into itself. Before either of you can stop yourselves, you both whip your heads back to look, to confirm, but it’s a mistake.

The briefest lapse in attention is enough to pull you both into the current of people, and try as you might to fight against it, the crowd splits you and the woman apart as it swallows you both whole. You’re both spat onto the tracks at the edge of the platform and your head collides with the metal rails of the track. It feels like your skull is about to crack in two, and it takes every fiber in your being to scramble to your feet. You're close enough to the platform that if you can just climb up it, then you'll be—

“Help! Help!”

It’s the woman’s voice. You turn to see that she ended up a couple meters away from you. She’s staring at you, eyes brimming with fear filled tears as she extends her hand in your direction. You take a step toward her, reaching out.

And then, her entire body is engulfed in flames, the skirt of her magical girl costume a ring of fiery death around her.

Her blood curdling scream is the only thing you can hear, her burning flesh, the only thing you can see. You don’t know what to do.

You can’t save her.

There's something touching your back. You can barely feel the pressure, but it's hot, scorching hot, mind numbingly hot, painfully hothothot.

You know this sensation. You have felt it before. The scent of burning cloth, burning hair, burning flesh clogs your nostrils. It's too late, you realize, helpless, despaired as the flames eat at your body— your soon to be corpse.

It's too late.

You die a ninth time.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

This is the tenth time.

Your head hurts, but you ignore it. There’s something more important that you need to attend to. You immediately make your way to the woman you met during your last round, the one you watched burn to death. Her costume is still pristine, unmarred by fire and death.

For now.

She’s not screaming this time and while there’s a little voice in the back of your mind that’s concerned by this, you try to ignore it.

“Um, excuse me?” you say when she doesn’t acknowledge you as you approach.

The woman turns to look at you. You’re taken aback by the distinct lack of recognition and it feels almost as if the woman you encountered previously and the one before you now are two separate people. In a way, they technically are.

“Do I… know you?” she finally asks when you don’t say anything.

Your mouth is dry. How do you even answer that? You don’t know her. You just watched her die twice. You know her. She begged you for help. You couldn’t save her.

If you explain all of this you know she’s just going to think you’ve lost your mind. Maybe you already have— you’ve died nine times after all.

You give her a weak smile. “I… just wanted to tell you that you think your costume looks great.”

She blinks, taken aback by your words. There’s no doubt that she wasn’t expecting you to say that. It’s the truth though, her costume is nice; she’s dressed up as a character from a magical girl anime that was popular a couple years ago.

“Thank you! I made it myself!” The woman breaks out into a genuine smile and your heart hurts. In a few moments she’ll die and the costume she worked so hard to make will be nothing but ash on the subway tracks.

“Sorry,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.

“For?”

For watching her die. For not being able to save her.“...I just kind of came up to you all of a sudden…”

She laughs. “It’s okay.”

It’s not.

You consider telling her that she should try to move. That if she stays here she will die. You don’t want her to die. Again. You can still hear her screaming in your ears as she burned to death. You want to tell her.

You don’t.

“Stay safe, okay?” you say. It almost sounds like you’re begging.

She gives you another smile, kind and gentle and you think you’re far too undeserving of it for not telling her what fate will soon befall her. “You too.”

“I’ll try,” you say and move away from the woman just as the gates open and the crowd surges toward the railway. You do not fight it as you are swept up into the crowd and despite what you said, you do not try, this time, to stay safe.

You die for the tenth time.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

This is the fourteenth time.

There’s a slight ache in your head, but it’s subtle enough that you can ignore it. The pain you feel lessens with each round and you think it’s a sign that your body no longer feels the need to remind you of the precarious situation that you’re in.

Or maybe you are just becoming numb to everything: your death, the death of the people around you, the death of the woman in the magical girl costume—

You try not to think about it too much as you reach into your bag to check the time on your phone: 8:37PM. There’s not a lot of time: you need to move.

At the very end of your last attempt to escape this nightmare you realized something. You need to know exactly what is going on around you so you can plan accordingly: where to not stand, where to not go. Up until now, you’ve relied almost solely on the knowledge gained from your previous failures to try and survive, but obviously it’s not enough to keep you alive. You’re not sure why you didn’t realize this earlier. The panic, maybe? The fear?

Maybe you really are becoming numb to all this.

Unlike previous iterations, this time you elect to move closer to the gate, positioning yourself somewhere against it where you’re unlikely to be pushed off the platform in a couple minutes when they open. You take great care to place yourself where you can see the ones responsible for the slaughter very clearly. At the beginning, you could only see one, the one who looks the most human, but with each repetition, the other two have become more and more clear. You wonder why. You don’t have time to think about it.

Murmurs nearby alert you to the arrival of the fourth major player involved in the night’s events. You look up and see the white haired man dressed in all black descending upon the platform like an angel from the heavens. This is your first time really looking at him and you realize there’s something almost inhumanly attractive about him. You can’t quite put your finger on it, but it occurs to you that you shouldn’t even try; you don’t have the time to be drooling over some handsome stranger.

You’ve naturally never taken the time to try and listen to whatever the conversation the man and his opponents have before all hell breaks loose on the platform, but you try and lean closer to listen. It’s hard to hear over the dozens of conversations going on behind you, but you try anyway. There might be a clue to what’s actually going on— or better yet, a clue on how to get out of it.

It’s obvious that you’re missing context from what bits of the conversation you do manage to hear, but honestly it all sounds like stuff out of a shounen battle manga. There is one part of the exchange that you manage to hear with a startling sort of clarity. It feels almost as if your heart stops beating as your blood turns ice cold in your veins.

“If I run away, you’re just gonna kill everyone here, right?” the man in black asks.

There’s a pause, and if your heart was still beating it’d be long enough for just four heartbeats.

“If you run away?” The monster with cane repeats, the sadistic grin spreading wide across its features, displaying its charcoal black teeth. The gravelly sound of its voice sets fire to the blood in your veins, your stilled heart thumping wildly, in fear, in anticipation. Soon. It’s happening soon. You brace yourself. “We’re going to do that even if you don’t!”

You die a fourteenth time.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

This is the seventeenth time now.

Things are going surprisingly well, even as the people around you tumble onto the tracks. You manage to hold on, desperation keeping you from falling into the abyss. This is good, you tell yourself, despite the fact that it’s not the first time you’ve achieved this. Every little victory is worth celebrating, but you have to remain vigilant. This is yet another information gathering loop, and while you know that maybe this time you’ll be lucky and live, there’s still a chance, a big one, at that, that you will die again.

You have to make the most of each and every death.

It’s such a morbid thought, but the ends justify the means, or so you tell yourself. If you have to die a few times to make it out of this unending nightmare, then so be it.

The spot you’re in is a good vantage point; it’s easier to see everything happening below you. It’s so good that it’s actually sickening. You watch as the monster with the cane and one with what looks like branches for eyes slaughter the people on the track, mowing them down, setting them aflame. In another life, in another many lives, that was you down there, and for what feels like the first time in forever, you feel like you’re going to be sick. You feel like, at some point, you likened the scene before you to some kind of shounen battle manga, but you think that was wrong.

This is borderline horror.

Everything plays out before you like a scene out of an action horror flick. If you didn’t know better, you’d think you were just an extra on set, but you know the reality is that you’re just an extra to whatever phantasmal battle is taking place in front of you. The monsters and the strangely dressed man all try to attack the man in black, but he manages to block every hit effortlessly, as if he is protected by some sort of invisible barrier. When it seems the two monsters are about to hit him, he merely jumps out of the way and the two monsters seem to collide, the force of their combined strength sending a gust of air throughout the crowd. The man in black neatly lands on a nearby platform half wall and says something about curse users, whatever those are, to the monsters, before he starts to mock them, pulling down his strange blindfold in the process.

And this, you’ve found, is where you start to get in trouble.

You clearly remember thinking, at some point, previously, that there was something attractive about this man. You still don’t know what it is. You haven’t had the time to try and figure it out, but there is one thing that you do know: you can’t keep your eyes off of him.

He drops back down onto the tracks, antagonizing his opponents in an arrogant tone as he approaches. When he comes to a stop between the two monsters, the second round of their fight begins. They try to hit him, but he dodges still, gracefully, fluidly, like the three of them are embroiled in some sort of passionate, yet violent dance.

You cannot turn your eyes away as he cruelly rips off one of the arms of the one-eyed monster.

You cannot turn your eyes away as he brutally kicks the branch-eyed monster in the abdomen, sending them flying to the other side of the platform.

You cannot turn your eyes away as he effortlessly hurls the one-eyed, now one-armed monster in the same direction, sending them smashing into the wall.

Only when the man in black seems to fly to the other side is the spell over you seemingly broken. Still, your eyes give chase, and your body too, rushing from one side of the platform to the other. You can’t lose sight of this fight, you tell yourself, settling in a spot you recall being safe during your last round. Doing so could mean another death, another loop, another October 31.

You watch as the man in black acrobatically dodges what looks to be vines or roots that the monster with branches for eyes seems to have summoned from the depths of the Tokyo metro. He lands on the monster’s shoulders, balancing on them as he uses its branch-eyes for leverage. The look in the man’s eyes is so crazed that you can see it from where you’re standing. He says something to it and then—

With a feral and sadistic smile, he rips their eyes straight out of their skull.

Your heart is pounding wildly in your chest as you watch the fight unfold. It is horrifyingly, disgustingly violent, yet still you watch as people on the track are killed by the human-like person, blood raining down as their freshly beheaded skulls go flying into the air. He and the one-eyed monster launch their counter attacks against the man in black and the blowback is so intense the power goes out causing everyone to scream.

There’s a faint glow where the man in black is standing that starts to grow brighter and brighter. You can make out his form turning to face the wall, and it seems almost like he’s slammed the monster that had branches for eyes against it with some sort of telekinetic power. Despite the panic from the people around you, you manage to hear him, chuckling like a mad man as he draws closer and closer to the monster.

The one-eyed monster yells out a name, a name you think must belong to the man, but he doesn’t hear it. He doesn’t hear the one-eyed monster as he extends his hands out toward the eyeless monster, exerting some kind of force that you can’t really see. He doesn’t hear the one-eyed monster as the eyeless monster’s entire body is vaporized in a flash of blue light. He doesn’t hear the one-eyed monster, as the lights flicker back on revealing a smoking crater stained with purple blood where the eyeless monster once stood.

But you do.

Satoru Gojo.

You make sure to remember that.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

And this is the eighteenth time.

You watch as the man called Satoru Gojo stalks through the crowd of people on the subway tracks, chasing after the one-eyed fire monster. It throws people at him, in a clear attempt to slow him down.

It does not work.

Satoru Gojo climbs back onto the platform in a way that you can only describe as inhuman, and the people nearby shriek and move away from him, out of terror, out of fear. You, on the other hand, draw closer, refusing to lose sight of him.

He is relentless in his pursuit of the one-eyed monster. It continues to throw person after person at him, but he does not stop and the people float there, suspended in midair before they are gently lowered to the ground by some unseen force and scramble away.

No one dares get close to Satoru Gojo, everyone on the platform seems to know that doing so means certain death, yourself included. But you still feel the need to keep an eye on him. The monster and the strangely dressed man are focusing more on him than the crowd— anyone in between is just collateral damage.

But not you.

Especially since you’ve made it this far— you’ve never made it this far before.

A voice echoes throughout the platform; you realize it’s the automated announcement.

An eight car train is pulling in. Please wait behind the yellow line.

You can hear everyone’s relief coming from all sides. The train is coming! The train is coming! A ripple of hope makes its way throughout the crowd. With the train comes the chance to get off the platform and the senseless violence that’s been happening here. Some of the people around you are talking excitedly and others are running toward the gates, toeing the yellow line they’ve been instructed to wait behind. And you, you should be excited, you should be hopeful.

All you feel is dread.

It eats at your stomach, at your chest, at your mind. Clawing and gnawing at you in a way that leaves you paralyzed on the platform. There’s something wrong here. You can’t be sure because you’ve never made it this far, never survived long enough for the train to come, but something is just not right.

No.

You must be paranoid. The train coming is a good thing. It has to be a good thing. You are just paranoid. It’s normal. It’s natural. Dying seventeen times would do that to anyone— rob them of hope, condemn them to an existence full of fear.

It is not lost on you that the thought of dying more than once, much less, dying seventeen times is not normal or natural in the very slightest.

But you need hope, you crave it, wildly, desperately. The hope of freedom, of escape is the only thing getting you through this unending nightmare. Every time you die, every time you wake, it is with the hope that maybe, just maybe this iteration will be different, maybe this one will be the one where you make it out, make it back to your friends who must be waiting for you, make it back home where you can be safe and sound. You need the hope to keep going. Because without hope, what will you have left?

The train screeches as it pulls into the station and the people around you laugh in both disbelief and relief. They start to push and shove toward it, fighting to be able to board because there’s no way everyone here will be able to get on an eight car train and being left behind at this point is practically synonymous with death. Unable to decide if you believe in the train as a symbol of hope or a new layer of fear, you are pushed along with the crowd toward it.

The doors of the train cars slide open and the current passengers all rush off as they disembark. You as well as everyone else on the platform can see with a horrifying clarity that the train is filled to the brim with monsters. Monsters that reach out and grab anyone their hands can reach. The woman to your left. The person to your right.

You.

Hope is gone.

What do you have left?

You die for the eighteenth time.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

This is probably the twenty-sixth time now.

If there is anything this entire ordeal has taught you, it is that you are resilient. Whether it is some innate trait that you never had any reason to uncover before or just a byproduct of being trapped in an unending cycle of being dead and not dead, you don't know. What you do know, though, is that even if you no longer have hope, you at least have your resilience.

Whether you want it or not.

You check the time. It’s 8:35PM. Something flickers in your chest, like a faint light in a sea of darkness, but you ignore it. You don’t have time right now.

With a nimbleness born from your previous failures, you weave your way through the crowd. You’ve done this enough times to know where the gaps are— who will yield and who won’t. Your destination is the escalator that leads off the platform and up to a higher part of the station. You’d noticed previously that the escalator along with every other entrance onto the platform will eventually be blocked by vines or roots of some sort (the work of the branch-eyed monster probably). It’s not a perfect plan because you don’t know what happens on the other side, but whatever it is has to be better than whatever is happening on the side that you’ve been on.

You’d tried to get to the stairs during your last two rounds, but you’d just missed it. You hadn’t been fast enough and had gotten caged and slaughtered along with the rest. But this time, this time you have more time. It’s just one minute, but it’s enough. You know it is.

The flickering in your heart grows stronger. Hope. You try not to pay attention to it— you don’t want to be disappointed yet again. But you want to so badly. A voice in the back of your mind tells you to focus on the good, tells you that if there was truly no way out of this endless nightmare, then why would you get more and more time with each round to escape your fate?

With that thought in mind, you break out into a run, recklessly rushing through the crowd, shoving anyone who will not yield to the side. Out of the corner of your eye you can see the stark white of Satoru Gojo’s hair as he descends upon the platform.

You need to get up those stairs.

Now.

If you remember correctly, the roots and vines don’t close off the area the moment he touches down, but a little after they start talking, so you think there is probably some time, but you can’t leave it to chance.

The stairs are packed, and for some reason no one is moving. The escalator right next to it is just as full and the power doesn’t seem to be working. You don’t have time for this. You clamber onto the escalator’s rubber handrail, ignoring the weird feeling that passes through your body as you do so. You don’t have the time to worry about whatever that is. The people around you start exclaiming around you, but you don’t care, you don’t listen. You wobble as you try to balance yourself and when you think you’re steady you try to run.

But you trip.

And you die for the twenty-sixth time.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

This marks the thirtieth time.

And you have, finally, finally made it up the escalator, up the stairs with barely a second to spare. You pause, glancing back as the roots or vines or whatever the hell they are seal off the entrance to the platform. You notice that the area where the plants come down is actually fairly clear, despite the crowd. It seems weird, but you don’t dwell on it.

A strange feeling envelops your entire body and your legs turn into jelly. As you sink to the floor, you realize what you’re feeling is relief as all the tension, maybe thirty iterations of Halloween 2018 worth, seeps from your being. You don't remember the last time you felt anything other than fear and dread; it’s weird, but not unwelcome.

That voice in the back of your mind tells you that you can't relax just yet: October 31st isn’t over. Even though you have repeated this night again and again, burning the events that play out on the platform into your memory, you do not know a single thing that happens over here. It would be smart to scope everything out.

Legs still shaky, you rise to your feet and start walking. You think it’s probably for the best to try and head up to the surface and you make your way up to the next floor.

It’s packed with people here too, but relatively peaceful, especially when you compare it to the pandemonium taking place beneath your feet. Still, you can make out the undeniable hum of displeasure resonating throughout the crowd. People complaining about how uncomfortable their costumes are, people complaining about how much they want to go home, people complaining about how much their nights have been ruined because they couldn’t meet up with their friends and—

A thought hits you like an eight car train.

You were supposed to meet up with your friends.

That’s why you were on the platform in the first place— you were waiting for them to arrive, but then the trains stopped working, and people just started pouring into the station out of seemingly nowhere (you think you heard some people say they’d come from the crossing?). Soon after that is when everything went to shit.

You check your phone, though, for once it’s not to look at the time (8:56PM). Instead, you open LINE to check your friends’ group chat. There’s no signal here, for whatever reason, so if there are any new messages, you haven’t received them. The last one was from Kei, mentioning he was enroute, but as far as you know, you’re the only one who made it to Shibuya before the trains stopped.

Did one of them maybe make it here though? Surely, you would have run into them if—

The image of a woman in a magical girl costume fills your vision, burning to death before your very eyes as her screams echo in your ears. It is the first time in what feels like forever that you’ve thought about her and your stomach churns violently. You couldn’t help her, you can’t even help yourself, so how could you even expect to do the same for your friends if they were here? The mere thought of having to watch them die over and over is almost enough to send you over the edge. You don’t know if you could do it.

Would you even have a choice?

No. You can't think like that. You have choices. You've had choices. If you didn’t then, you would still be down below, among the fire and brimstone. Dying, if not dead already. However, instead, you are up here, where, for the moment, it is quiet and peaceful.

That thought, in of itself, is enough to give you a shred of solace, a glimmer of hope.

You take a deep breath and fiddle with your phone a little more, changing your lock screen to a picture you and your friends took at a photo booth not too long ago. The four of you are huddled together, faces squished as if you're all struggling to fit in the frame, despite there being plenty of room. You're mid-laugh because it's the first time you've been in a photo booth in years, Mio and Shin are grinning mischievously and finally, Kei is smiling, but only just slightly, the embarrassment clear on his face. It's probably only been a few months since you all took this picture, but the fact that it feels like it's been years makes your heart ache.

You press your forehead to the screen, like a prayer, like a promise.

You will make it out of this nightmare.

No matter what.

A shrill scream yanks you from your thoughts and you are instantly on your feet, alert as your eyes flit around frantically to identify the source. It doesn't take long for you to find it and when you do, you think you might have stumbled upon a new layer of horror to this nightmare.

It’s not the corpse, dangling by a noose, that terrifies you— by now you’ve seen dozens upon dozens of dead bodies that the sight of just one more doesn’t faze you in the slightest. The thing that’s the most mortifying, that’s the most disturbing is that right next to where the body is tied are two girls, two teenage girls still dressed in their school uniforms.

You can accept monsters and weirdly dressed men being responsible for the carnage tonight, but children too? Both girls look like they’re barely in high school and try as you might to rationalize things, to chalk it up to coincidence, you cannot ignore the ominous energy radiating from them.

The very notion that these two children could have killed someone here is a hard pill to swallow, but so is the fact that you’ve died.

And you’ve had to swallow that pill thirty times now, so what’s once more?

“Listen up!” one of the girls yells over the crowd, but she is mostly ignored; you don’t think everyone here has noticed her and the corpse dangling from the rafters. She scowls and turns to the other girl and says something quietly to her. The other girl nods and almost instantly she’s stringing up another person, another example. You want to look away so badly, and yet you cannot bring yourself to and you watch the poor soul choke to death.

“I said listen, you dumb monkeys!” the girl shouts, and this time she’s caught most of the crowd’s attention. “If you don’t want to end up like these two, you’ll listen to what we have to say!”

There is clear dissent among the crowd, people dismissive as they utter their disbelief. Some seem to think it’s a prank, but you know better. It takes two more examples before the crowd goes silent before the two high schoolers.

“About damn time!” The girl roars and then points toward the atrium, which is currently covered by roots and branches. “All of you move over there!”

You have a bad feeling about this.

Still, you comply; the girls have made it abundantly clear that failure to do so will result in death, though, at this point, you're almost certain this iteration is a bust and death is all but imminent. You try to keep positive— thinking you can at least gather information or, who knows, maybe there's a chance that this one is the one.

Yet when you step onto the mound of vines and branches that cover the atrium it feels as if you've crossed the threshold into hell. Your footing is stable… but for how long?

An eight car train is pulling in. Please wait behind the yellow line.

It's faint, but you can hear the announcement from below. The liquid in your stomach curdles at the sound as you recall the train and, in particular, what is on board. Soon enough, those monsters will be swarming the platform, massacring everyone in reach, guzzling down their blood, feasting on their flesh—

It dawns on you that the people on the platform are the monsters' first course.

And you, and those around you here in the shrubbery, are the second.

As you realize this, the branches and vines disintegrate beneath your very feet and suddenly you are mid air— falling, falling into the abyss below.

You die for the thirtieth time.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

You've done this nearly sixty times now.

After countless failures, you've decided that you're just not going to go upstairs any more. No matter where you try to go, you still end up herded onto the death trap above the platform where you ultimately fall to your death. You've tried positioning yourself in the same spot, tried bracing yourself for the drop— but nothing seems to work: upon landing, assuming you manage to land without hurting yourself or dying in midair (which has happened a couple times) you get grabbed and killed by one of the monsters from the train. It's probably not impossible, you just don't have the physical prowess or reflexes for it.

If anything, you can try again later, but you sincerely hope you don't have to.

It's 8:32PM, and you have plenty of time to get to your chosen spot for this loop— it's close to the stairs, in the very center of the platform. Here, there's little risk of getting pushed off onto the tracks when the gates open. You'll probably have to move when the train comes, or even before (assuming you survive) to avoid the monsters, but you'll get to that when it's time.

You can't really see the fight once it breaks out after Satoru Gojo arrives, but you still try to keep track of it as best as you can. You see when he hurls both monsters across the platform and you're not sure if it's muscle memory or what but you have to fight the urge to move to the side and watch. It's been a while, yes, but you've seen the fight countless times before— it doesn't change. Satoru Gojo will give chase. He will rip the branches from the branch eyed monster's skull. He will use some kind of power to eviscerate them.

You don't need to watch, but there's something in you that wants to.

It doesn't make sense, you've seen it all before; if you're unlucky you'll see it all again.

The lights go out and people start screaming; Satoru Gojo is ending the life of that one monster. Soon enough he'll be back on the platform, in pursuit of the other. You think at that point it would be good to move, reposition yourself as far from the incoming train as possible.

When he rises from the tracks like a demon straight from hell, you realize it's the first time this loop that you've actually gotten a good look at him. You remind yourself, again, that this isn't the first time you've seen this man, this scene. You can't help but watch, but stare at Satoru Gojo as he stalks through the crowd in pursuit of his prey. His expression is an eerie sort of calm that's at odds with the acts of violence you've seen him commit— his eyes an unnaturally bright blue.

He's a terrifying sort of beauty and you can't help but be captivated by him.

An eight car train is pulling in. Please wait behind the yellow line.

The sound of the announcement sends your heartbeat into a frenzy, snapping you out of your little trance. The train is coming and you need to get moving. As you dart to the edge of the platform, the thought occurs to you that even if you avoid the initial wave of monsters, it's likely you will inevitably be caught by them and killed. It wouldn't be impossible for Satoru Gojo to turn his attention to them instead of the two he's currently facing, but he's just one man— can he truly defeat all those monsters?

You can see the train pulling in and you brace yourself, praying that it'll work out somehow.

The doors hiss open and the screaming starts again as the monsters come bursting out of the train, biting and mauling anyone they can get their hands on. Those who were lucky enough to not be at the front start to scramble away and the monsters give chase. Your body is taut, ready to try and dodge any that come your way.

Out of the corner of your eye you notice something moving through the air. A person? With blue hair? You take the risk to look— they're attacking Satoru Gojo. He tries to punch them but they fly away from him to dodge— disappearing into the crowd.

You hear a loud cracking sound over the cacophony of the crowd and your stomach twists; you know what that sound is. The roots above the atrium disintegrate and bodies from above start to rain down onto the platform.

And then, you're not sure what happens— it's so quick that you only manage to see what looks like an explosion of blood surrounding Satoru Gojo. Corpses litter the ground around him and even from here you can tell he is shaken by the carnage.

The monsters have finally reached where you're standing, and you duck under one as it lunges at you. Although it's big and scary, you realize it's moving kind of slow. Right after it another one comes at you and you take a side step to avoid it; this monster is kind of slow too.

Maybe you can do this.

As soon as you think that a strange feeling courses through you. Every hair on your body feels like it's standing on edge and the voice in your head is telling you to look at Satoru Gojo. You don't understand why because you think he's the least of your worries right now, but you do it anyway.

He's in some sort of stance, one hand raised to his face, fingers bent in some kind of gesture. There's some sort of aura, oppressive and frightening emanating from his form.

Satoru Gojo is doing something.

You just can't tell what.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

And you are utterly confused.

Barring your first few loops when you weren't fully aware of what was happening, you have very distinct memories of how each of your previous iterations of this night have gone— of each and every one of your deaths. But for your last round, the last thing you remember was feeling the immense power radiating from Satoru Gojo's body, but that's it.

You do not remember dying.

In fact, you don't think you did.

And yet, here you are again, back at the start: it's 8:32PM and the monsters and strangely dressed man are standing on the subway tracks waiting for the arrival of Satoru Gojo.

You don't understand what's going on; you didn't die but you're still stuck in this damn loop. Up until now, your death has served as the trigger to restart the loop. It's not impossible that maybe you suffered a quick and painless death but you're almost certain that isn't the case.

Something else must have happened.

Something having to do with Satoru Gojo.

You have to find out what. If you don't, you won't know how to avoid it, and if you can't do that, then you really might spend an eternity stuck in this nightmare. And so you take great care to repeat the steps of your last round. You need to make sure to survive to the same point you made it to last time.

Miraculously, you do.

The moment you feel that sensation again, a prickling sort of feeling that envelops your entire body, your eyes are on Satoru Gojo— trying to figure out what the hell he's doing. His eyes are crazed with a desperate kind of focus. You see his mouth move— he's saying something. A spell? A prayer? A curse?

You don't know.

You do know.

Your brain feels like it's going to explode.

Again.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

Again.

You do not know how many times it's been the night of Halloween in Shibuya: you stopped counting around the hundredth loop. It feels like it's been a while since then. Or maybe it hasn't? You don't know any more.

What you do know is that this night ends up going one of two ways before you are forced to repeat it. Either you die, in some way, shape or form or something happens just after nine that forces you to reset. You still don't know what it is exactly; you only know that Satoru Gojo is responsible for it.

You do prefer it to dying— it's far less painful.

But if anything, you wish you could just die permanently and never have to repeat this night ever again.

Unfortunately, you know better.

The only good thing you’ve noticed about all of this is that you really do seem to keep waking up earlier and earlier. The last time you checked, it was at around 8:30. It might take hundreds of thousands of loops, but eventually you’ll certainly wake up early enough to avoid this damn entire mess.

But by the time that happens… will your sanity still be intact? Will you really be able to go back to a normal day to day life after living the equivalent of hundreds of years, repeating the same night over and over again? You don’t even know how you’ve managed to stay sane all this time and as much as you want to believe you could do it…

There has to be a breaking point.

For both your mind and this time loop.

If you’re lucky, you’ll reach the latter first.

There’s a dull ache in your head that feels foreign yet familiar. Your mind is foggy, all your thoughts hazy as you try to recall what the word for this feeling is.

Groggy.

It feels as if you’ve woken up from a nap and you blink the sleepiness away from your eyes. When was the last time you took a nap? It’s been a while… You think you maybe tried once or twice, but you were too nervous, too on edge. Awake or asleep, it didn’t matter because, either way, you were doomed to repeat this nightmare.

As you think this, you realize that something is different.

You’re used to how the start of each loop feels like waking up suddenly and abruptly and it becomes clear to you that you haven’t looped. This is completely uncharted territory.

You need to find out what’s going on.

The first thing you notice is that it’s quiet. Almost eerily so, especially when the last thing you remember was screaming and chaos. You glance around you and find that it looks like all the monsters from the train are dead, the ground littered in their bloodstains and corpses. There were so many of them, you don’t know how someone could have wiped them out so quickly… Could it possibly have been Satoru Gojo’s doing?

More concerning than the complete eradication of the monsters is the fact that nearly everyone else on the platform is standing stock still, their mouths ajar with blank expressions on their faces. It’s almost as if their souls have completely vacated their bodies…

Were you like that too before you woke up?

You hear voices, and your body immediately goes tense as you turn your head in their direction. A little ways ahead of you, you see a man dressed as a monk conversing with the blue haired person from earlier and before them is—

Your heart nearly stops: it’s Satoru Gojo, restrained and on his knees.

Honestly, you can’t make heads or tails of the conversation they’re having; it’s more shounen battle manga nonsense. Satoru Gojo doesn’t seem to be enjoying their conversation either, and he interrupts them, clearly annoyed.

“Are we gonna do this or what?” he asks. “The view sucks and I’m just kinda bored.”

“I wanted to enjoy this sight for a little bit longer, but you are right,” the monk says. “I wouldn’t want anything to happen— gate, close.”

When he says that, Satoru Gojo’s restraints move, the weirdly shaped cubes at the ends of them closing in around him, trapping him in a giant red cube. It starts to shrink until it’s small enough to fit in the monk’s hand.

You gulp and hope they don’t notice that you’re awake. The fact that they haven’t slaughtered the rest of the people standing around you is a good sign, but you don’t want to find out what happens if they know you’re cognizant.

It’s not hard to play the part of a living statue, especially when you compare it to everything else you’ve had to suffer through on this night. You watch as the monk’s allies, the ones who had attacked everyone on the platform, wake up, but before they can do or say anything, the box holding Satoru Gojo slips through the monk’s fingers and makes a dent in the concrete. The look on the monk’s face makes it clear that it’s a problem he wasn’t expecting.

You don’t know a damn thing about Satoru Gojo, but you feel like this kind of thing is the norm for him.

The blue haired person suddenly looks in your direction and you nearly stop breathing. Have they noticed you? It takes everything in you to keep perfectly still, in hopes that maybe they didn't, that maybe they’re looking at something else. They raise their arm and it extends, their hand acting like some kind of projectile. You almost shut your eyes and brace yourself for impact, but their hand flies upwards and hits something on the ceiling, destroying it.

Inwardly, you breathe a sigh of relief— you’re still safe.

For now.

You listen to their following conversation and while you still don’t fully understand everything, it’s clear they’re talking about what to do next since they’ve taken care of Satoru Gojo. Something having to do with someone named Yuji Itadori? The group seems split on what to do about him but it’s clear he’s their next target.

Eventually, everyone but the monk (you heard the blue haired person, who is apparently named Mahito, call him Geto?) runs off, probably to find this Yuji Itadori person. Once they’re gone, Geto speaks and, at first, you think he’s talking to you, but it becomes clear he’s addressing someone else. “Those cursed spirits are actually smarter than the two of you.”

“Give him back!” a voice hidden among the crowd hisses. Your blood runs cold at the sound. You recognize it; it’s one of the high school girls from the upper floor.

“We cooperated with you fully and kept dropping monkeys for you,” says another voice; it must be the other girl that was with her, the one who hung all those people.

“Now give us back Master Geto’s body like you promised!”

“Don’t toy with Master Geto any further than you have!”

You blink in confusion. Isn’t the monk named Geto? The way the girls are talking it sounds like they’re talking about someone else… Is it possible that the body is ‘Geto’ but the person they’re talking to is someone else possessing it? It sounds kind of crazy, but then again, so is every single thing you’ve experienced tonight.

Your suspicions concerning this ‘Geto’ are confirmed only seconds later as he says, “Now begone, or is it your desire to be killed by this body?”

One of the girls vows her revenge and you hear shuffling somewhere else in the crowd as they scurry away. Now you think it’s just you and whoever it is that’s puppeting Geto’s body. You see him plop down in front of the box (the prison realm, you think he’d called it) that’s holding Satoru Gojo.

“You can come out, you know,” he says after a while.

You freeze. The rest of the platform is completely silent. This time you think he might actually be talking to you.

“I know you’re there,” ‘Geto’ adds, his voice casual. “If you’re insistent on hiding, you should know that I’m not afraid of using whatever means necessary to smoke you out.”

Given everything his allies have done, there’s no doubt in your mind that he’s serious. You were hoping to hide out among the crowd until he decided to leave, but it looks like you won’t be able to now.

Looks like this loop is a bust after all.

Your heart starts to race as you weave your way through the crowd. In every single one of your loops, you were always treated like a bit character, never noticed or singled out by any of the major players of the night. Although this is your first time encountering this ‘Geto’ it’s clear to you that he’s involved with everything that’s happened here and honestly, you get the feeling he might actually be the mastermind behind the massacre.

That makes you even more nervous.

You come to a stop in the place where Satoru Gojo was once kneeling before he was put in that box. Now that you’re out in the open, ‘Geto’ looks you over with some sort of nonchalant curiosity.

“You’re…” he starts, sounding thoughtful, "not a sorcerer, are you?”

Sorcerer. You heard that term thrown around by him and his group a few times. It’s what they’ve been referring to their enemies as. It probably wouldn’t be smart to lie and say you are one; you get the feeling he’d see through your lie anyway. “I’m not.”

He hums. “How interesting.”

“...what do you mean?” you ask before you can help yourself.

“It’s just you have an abnormally large amount of cursed energy for a non-sorcerer,” he explains. “Though, I suppose that all just sounds like gibberish to you."

You nod and look down at the box lodged in the floor. It has eyes, big creepy looking eyes. "...are you going to do the same thing to me as you did to that man?"

He laughs, "...fortunately for you, the prison realm only holds one person at a time and I need him sealed away more than you."

"...does that mean you're going to leave him in there forever?"

"If I'm feeling nice, I might unseal him in a hundred years or so."

One hundred years? At this point, you've probably lived roughly that amount of time through your loops alone, but for Satoru Gojo… "Won't he die first?"

"Only if he decides to," 'Geto' says, looking completely and wholly unbothered. "Time doesn't doesn't flow in the box, so when I unseal him, he'll be the same as he was just now. Physically anyway. Who knows how deteriorated his mind will be after all that."

Time doesn't flow in the box.

The words echo in your mind over and over. Time doesn't flow in the box. In other words, that means time has stopped in the box, and if that's the case then—

"Anyway, rather than worry about him, shouldn't you be more worried about yourself?"

You look at 'Geto' and he's smiling at you, it's friendly, but ominous. There's no doubt what is going to happen next, though you had already resigned yourself to this iteration being a bust; it was only a matter of time.

Time doesn't flow in the box.

"I was thinking I might keep you around, even if you aren’t a sorcerer, your wealth of cursed energy would serve my plans well," he muses. "But… it would be too much trouble trying to teach you how to use it in time."

As he talks, you realize this is probably the first time your death is intentional— every other death you've suffered has just been a byproduct of the ongoing slaughter. You were just another casualty, a victim, never a target.

You're scared.

Even though you know that once he kills you, once you die, you'll just loop back to around 8:30 again. You'll be on the platform again. And you'll play out some sequence of events before you eventually die again. And again and again.

Time doesn't flow in the box.

"I'll be nice, though," 'Geto' says, raising a hand and another monster appears out of nowhere. You don’t even bother trying to figure out from where. It doesn’t matter, especially since this monster will surely be the one to end your life. "I'll make it painless."

"...I appreciate it," you say and close your eyes hoping that he's not lying about it.

Time doesn't flow in the box.

He didn't lie.

You die again.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

And you're trapped.

You don't know how and you don't know why, but you are stuck in a time loop— forced to suffer through the horrific events of the night before you die and begin it all again. It's been a long time since you stopped counting how many loops you've gone through, but if you had to guess, it's probably somewhere in the hundreds now.

You are so very tired.

But it doesn't stop. It won't stop no matter what you seem to do. You are stuck. You are trapped. You are doomed.

“Time doesn't flow in the box.”

Ever since that first loop where you heard whoever is possessing Geto's body say that, the words have been stuck in your head, playing on loop.

You finally realize why.

“Time doesn't flow in the box.”

It's 8:25PM when you wake up; that should be plenty of time.

You need to find Satoru Gojo.

After hundreds of loops you've come to a singular conclusion: you need to prevent him being sealed in the prison realm. You've witnessed it enough to know that you won't be able to do it alone; you'll need his cooperation.

You rush upstairs as fast as you can, ignoring the shiver that runs down your spine as you step onto the stairwell. According to your previous loops, Satoru Gojo arrives on the subway tracks at 8:40PM. With how crowded the upper floor is, you don’t know if you’ll have the time to intercept him and talk to him, but if you can at least figure out where to find him, then you can try and talk to him during a subsequent loop.

When you reach the fourth basement floor, however, you don’t know where you should even start. He’s pretty tall so you think you could spot him in the crowd, but… there are still so many people. It occurs to you that maybe it would be better to try and look from a higher vantage point so you head to the stairs that lead up to the third basement floor. You check your phone again. It’s 8:35PM; you need to hurry.

Luckily for you, you find him very easily on the third basement floor.

The only problem is that he’s in a hard to reach spot— squatting above a sign hanging over the crowd.

You check your phone again. It’s 8:38PM and he’s starting to move, presumably to meet with those waiting for him on the subway tracks. It’s good that you found him, but there’s no doubt about it.

You’re going to need more time.

The moment you wake up, you immediately bolt toward the stairs. It's taken many, many more loops, but you've finally brought the time you wake down to around 8:15. You're still not sure if it's enough time, but there's only one way to find out.

You barrel your way up to the next floor and zig zag through the crowd to get to the next flight of stairs. By the time you get to your destination, you're completely out of breath, your chest heaving as your lungs clamor for air. You’ve done this so many times, yet your body acts like it’s always the first. It sucks, but there’s nothing you can do about it. You slow to a brisk pace to catch your breath and check the time. It’s 8:27— a new record. Hopefully it’ll be enough.

The goal is to catch Satoru Gojo before he moves to his lookout point above the crowd. While not impossible, it would be difficult for you to follow him there. You eye the safety barricade that blocks off the area where he’ll be moving in just a few minutes warily.

Yes, getting over there would be extremely difficult.

You don’t want to think about it right now; you’ll deal with it when the time comes.

Especially since Satoru Gojo has now entered your field of vision.

Your heart starts to race at the sight of him and it feels like it’s beating a million times a second. There isn’t a lot of time. You need to talk to him, but your legs only wobble, your feet planted firmly to the ground. This is not good. You need to move. You need to move.

Finally, after what feels like both an instant and an eternity, your feet finally budge, propelling you in Satoru Gojo’s direction. The beating of your heart only grows louder as you make your way toward him, mingling with the single thought that’s echoing throughout your mind right now: will he even hear you out?

You need to make him.

“Excuse me!” The words nearly come out in a stutter as you realize that you are actually talking to Satoru Gojo. You have watched this man at a distance for so long that it almost felt like he wasn’t real, like he was just another fixture in this nightmare that you’ve been living for far too long. And yet, here he is, right in front of you, in the flesh.

And his attention is on you.

All sound stops: the crowd around you, the thoughts in your head, the beat of your heart. Even though you cannot see them through that blindfold of his, you know that Satoru Gojo’s eyes are on you and the thought of that, the knowledge of it is actually a little overwhelming. Your mouth is dry and suddenly you don’t know what to say, but you need to say something. You need to say something before he thinks maybe you bumped into him by accident and just walks away without a word.

“I need to talk to you!” The words just burst out from your mouth and something about it is just absolutely embarrassing. You’re not sure if it's desperation or the fact that you haven’t really talked to anyone other than the existence occupying Suguru Geto’s body in nearly forever.

Satoru Gojo’s lips slowly start to form a smile, “Oh, yeah?”

The sound of his voice makes your mind go blank. There’s something different about it right now; more playful, amused even. Maybe it’s because he’s talking to you, a harmless human being and not a monster trying to kill him. It’s almost kind of jarring, but you know, with certainty, what Satoru Gojo’s voice sounds like. And the fact that he’s actually talking to you right now has you kind of excited. You nod, doing your best to not show how thrilled you are that he’s not ignoring you.

He hums thoughtfully, “Sorry… but unfortunately I kind of have some business to attend to right now.”

“I—” You start to say that you know that he’s headed down to the platform below to fight with…Choso and Jogo, you think their names are— you don’t know the name of the monster with the branches for eyes. “It’s— it’s really important!”

Gojo tilts his head a little, clearly thinking. You should probably say something else, something to try and convince him to stay a little longer and hear you out, but your mind is both full and blank. Where do you start? From the beginning? Or do you start with what is most important? Maybe you should say what you think will get his attention. You’re not sure, and you realize you really should have thought about this earlier because you’re running out of time right now.

“...mind handing me your phone?”

You stare at Gojo, completely and wholly confused, but he just holds out his hand expectantly. When you don’t move, he wiggles his fingers a little, a silent gesture telling you to hurry it up. Without thinking, you reach into your bag and unlock your phone before handing it to him.

“Kind of sucks that cell service isn’t working right now,” he remarks as he types something into your phone before handing it back. “But! Here's my number.”

You look down at your phone and, sure enough, Satoru Gojo has added himself as one of your contacts. He’s even added a little star to the end of his name. That’s… a little unexpected. Why his number though?

“Are you… hitting on me?” you mutter in your confusion.

He laughs, “Well, you said you had something really important to talk to me about, right? So just give me a call when you get home or some time tomorrow and we can talk then!”

You’re not going to make it home, or even to tomorrow, and neither will Satoru Gojo. As you start to tell him this, he steps past you. Desperate, you try to grab him, but somehow, for some reason, you can’t. You remember he did this with Jogo and the other monster, made himself untouchable.

This is not good.

He gives you a little wave, cheery as he says, “I’ll talk to you later!”

You watch, helpless as he hops over the barricade beyond your reach.

Gripping your phone tightly, you take a deep breath. It's fine, it's not like you didn’t expect things to go well anyway.

You'll just have to try again.

Every time you’ve tried to solicit help from Satoru Gojo, it has gone the same way. He just won’t give you the time of day, and in some ways you can’t blame him; he’s clearly here to deal with the monsters down on the platform. You’re fairly certain that he probably thinks that whatever is going on with you is a much lesser issue in comparison.

Plus, it probably doesn’t help that in the times that you’ve approached him, you haven’t been able to articulate yourself particularly well. Once you start talking to him, you just get hit with something akin to stage fright and the connection between your mind and your mouth just stops working. It’s gotten better with each attempt, but…

It’s just so frustrating.

It is interesting that Gojo has given you his number every time, star symbol and all. You’re not sure what kind of person you were expecting him to be, but after witnessing him literally and viciously rip monsters apart, you’d figured he’d be a little more somber. However, in the fragmented conversations you’ve had with him he’s come off as far more friendly and playful than you would have thought. Is he the type of person to get more serious when the situation calls for it? You can’t help but wonder, but ultimately, it doesn’t really matter.

What really matters is that you’re able to convince him to help you.

You have to convince him.

“Excuse me!” you say, stepping in Satoru Gojo’s path. You don’t stutter this time, and your voice is more sure. This is good.

“Yes?”

His head turns in your direction and you gulp. Gojo’s gaze, despite that blindfold of his, still feels just as overwhelming as it did the very first time you approached him. You have no doubt that he’s sizing you up, but there’s just something about it that makes you feel like you’re being picked apart.

You take a deep breath and step closer to him, hoping your voice sounds firm enough as you say, “I need your help. I’m trapped.”

He chuckles a little, “I know, but yours truly is on his way to go beat up the bad guys keeping you all trapped here, so soon enough you’ll be all free to go on your merry little way.”

Right. You were so caught up in your own plight that you nearly forgot that technically you’re not the only one ‘trapped.’ Satoru Gojo obviously knows that everyone else is confined to this station, but you doubt he knows that you’re confined to this night alone.

“That’s not what I mean!” you sputter.

“Then what do you mean?” Gojo asks. Should you tell him that you mean that you’re trapped in a time loop? You’re honestly not sure— in the movies and manga you’ve read about time travel, revealing that sort of thing risks creating a time paradox which seems to be a bad thing. If you have to tell him, you will, but— “Oh, I get it.”

You stare, bewildered. Did you maybe just spew all of that aloud?

Gojo gives you a mischievous smile. “You’re hitting on me, aren’t you?”

“No!” The word comes flying out of your mouth. You can’t deny he’s attractive— you’ve thought it all this time, but that is not what’s happening here.

“No need to be embarrassed,” he continues, ignoring you. “I totally get it, so if you want, I’d be happy to give you my number!”

Again? You’ve received Satoru Gojo’s contact details in every loop you’ve talked to him, star symbol and all— you even have his number memorized. There’s something kind of odd about how he keeps giving you his number. Part of you wonders if he’s got some sort of ulterior motive, but you haven’t thought too deeply about it. There are way more important things going on.

“I don’t need your phone number,” you say. “I need to talk.”

Your response seems to give Gojo pause. Did you somehow manage to get through to him? No way. Your suspicions are all but confirmed when he gives you that familiar apologetic smile.

“Like, I said, I’m sort of in the middle of something, but…” Gojo reaches into his pockets and rummages around until one hand fishes out a folded up piece of paper. The other hand keeps digging around in his pocket and when Gojo seems to give up on whatever he’s looking for, he turns his attention back to you. “Got a pen?”

What?

Gojo tilts his head. “Well?”

“I do, but…” You trail off, unsure why he’s asking.

He holds out his hand waiting for you to just hand him the pen. You still don’t get it, but you reach into your bag’s front pocket and pull out the pen and hand it to him. Gojo looks almost like an excited child when he takes it from you, quickly scribbling something onto his paper before shoving it and your pen back into your hand.

You look at the paper; it looks like a receipt. For a disturbing amount of mochi that Gojo bought earlier today. The amount of money he spent is almost sickening; way too much to be paying for mochi. More importantly, you notice something juxtaposed over the receipt’s print.

It’s Satoru Gojo’s name and number.

He even drew a little star next to his name.

“If you change your mind later, just give me a call!” he tells you cheerily. “I promise I’ll make it worth your while!”

You gawk at him. He cannot be serious. You literally just told him that you didn’t need it and yet he still gave it to you. He must want you to contact him later, but you can’t even begin to understand why. It can’t have been something you said or did, right? Unless, he’s actually—

“Later!” Gojo’s voice cuts through your thoughts and you notice him walking off with a wave.

You can’t let him get away.

Again.

You crush the receipt in your hand and rush after him. Despite the crowd, Gojo seems to move through the people with ease and it almost seems like they are yielding to him naturally. It’s good for you. Makes him easier to chase.

“Wait!” you yell, but Gojo doesn’t even look back. Bastard. Your muscles strain as you try to run faster. You know you won’t be able to grab him if you get to him, but there has to still be something you can do to stop him. Circle around him? Cut him off before he—

Satoru Gojo reaches the barricade.

“Wait!” you yell again. “Satoru Gojo, wait!”

He does not even acknowledge you.

You’re almost there though. Almost. If you reach out your hand, then maybe, maybe you can grab him. Something in your head tells you that it’s useless; you’ve never been able to touch him. But, you don’t care, you don’t care because you have to try. You stretch out your hand, desperate and hoping, but just as you do, Gojo effortlessly jumps over the barricade, moving to survey the crowd.

Due to your momentum, you almost collide into the barricade, but you manage to stop yourself. You stare at Satoru Gojo through the glass. He watches the crowd for at most three minutes. Is this just another bust? Is there really nothing you can do? There must be a way you can get his attention. Is it possible to climb over the barricade? No, it’s too high. There’s nothing you can grasp onto or use as footing either.

This fucking sucks.

Another minute or two and Gojo will be on the move again, and there will be no way you can follow, no way you can get his attention. You press your hands against the glass, pushing against it. Naturally, it doesn’t budge. Why would it? If only you could get it out of the way. If only you could break it. This stupid barricade is the only thing between you and Satoru Gojo and there’s no way you can climb it, but if only you could break it.

If only you could fucking break it.

Suddenly, the glass feels warm. Satoru Gojo’s image starts to look a little distorted as the warmth beneath your fingers grows. Something is happening. The glass starts to vibrate and shake. Violently. The tremors grow stronger and stronger. You should stop. You should back away.

You don’t.

The barricade starts to crack and fracture and soon the sound of shattering glass resounds throughout the entire room. Everyone starts screaming. No one knows what’s going on— not even you. But you don’t care. It’s gone. The barricade is gone.

You take a step forward, toward Satoru Gojo. He’s on a beam that’s about a two meter drop from where you’re standing. That’s fine. That’s okay. You can make it. You have to. Without a second thought, you jump—

And you land on the beam. You look up and Satoru Gojo’s attention is back on you. He’s finally, finally turned toward you, face twisted into an expression you can’t decipher or even comprehend, but—

Something’s wrong; your world is turning on its axis, but—

Satoru Gojo is looking at you, and—

Up is very quickly becoming down, and—

Satoru Gojo is coming closer, but—

You’re slipping—

But he’s right there, and—

You’re falling, but—

He’s trying to catch you, but—

It’s too late. It’s too late.

The last thing you think you feel—

—is Satoru Gojo’s arms around you.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

And you are causing a commotion.

“Shit! Fuck!” you curse loudly. The people near you start to shift away but you barely notice; you don’t really care.

You were so close, so fucking close and yet… yet here you are again. It’s quarter past eight and you are back on the goddamn platform. You don’t know what happened; you remember falling and thinking you were going to die, but you are absolutely certain that, once again, this time, you didn’t die.

Is Satoru Gojo at fault again? Did he do something? Like he did all those other times you looped without dying? When you think about it more, you don’t think so. You don’t know what happened; all you know is that you tried to get to him, but you slipped.

And he caught you, you definitely remember that.

You still don’t understand why you looped, but there’s not much you can do about it now; it’s not like you can go back anymore. It just sucks, because you think he might have actually listened if you’d talked to him.

Or he would have come after you for… whatever happened with the barricade. It could have been taken as an attack on the crowd… But if he thought you were doing that, then why would he catch you?

You don’t know.

All you know is that you have to try again.

The only problem is that you don’t know how you managed to shatter the barricade. You think about it as you make your way up to where you’ll find Satoru Gojo. There is the possibility that it wasn’t you and something else happened to it instead, but that feels way too coincidental. It had to be you. That’s the only thing that makes sense. You just can’t figure out how you did it outside of wanting, wishing, praying for the barricade to break. It’s not like you have supernatural powers like Satoru Gojo and his enemies.

Despite your mind being completely and wholly occupied by trying to figure out how in the world you managed to break through that barricade, you still manage to make it to the second basement floor of Shibuya Hikarie by 8:25PM— a brand new record. Satoru Gojo doesn’t show up until around 8:34PM, so that gives you almost ten minutes to try and figure out what you need to do to try and replicate shattering the glass barricade again.

Except—

Except Satoru Gojo is already here.

The thought that maybe you’re mistaken flashes in your mind before it’s quickly dismissed; there’s no way you’d mistake anyone else for him. There is absolutely no denying it: that is Satoru Gojo. Bewildered, you double check the time on your phone. Maybe you misread it and you’re actually late but sure enough you read it right— Satoru Gojo is here early.

What the hell is going on?

Of the thousands of times you have experienced this night, this hell, this sort of thing has never happened before. Everything happens at a specific time, as if adhering to an unseen schedule. It’s likely that what happened in your last iteration did delay Satoru Gojo’s arrival onto the platform, but other than that there has never been a deviation to the time table.

And yet, here Satoru Gojo is, nine minutes early now.

You realize that that’s not the only thing that’s strange: he’s not moving. In previous rounds, when you encounter Gojo here, he’s walking to the lookout spot beyond the barricade. But, right now, he’s just standing there, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket. It almost looks like he's waiting for something.

Or someone.

This unexpected turn of events has you rooted to the spot. You’re not sure what you should do. No. This shouldn’t change anything. You need to talk to him. As concerning as a change like this is, the extra time it gives you should be a good thing. Despite knowing that, your feet are still firmly planted to the ground.

The crowd shifts and you see Satoru Gojo start to move. Toward the barricade? No. He’s not heading in his usual direction, rather he’s—

You stop breathing.

He’s headed toward you.

All sound stops: the crowd around you, the thoughts in your head, the beat of your heart. Even though you cannot see them through that blindfold of his, you know that Satoru Gojo’s eyes are on you and the thought of that, the knowledge of it is absolutely mind numbing.

He comes to a stop before you, lips curled up to form an amused sort of smile as he says, “Soooo, you needed to talk to me?”

You try to answer but no words come out of your mouth. Are you dreaming? You have to be, right? There's no way that this is actually happening. Could it be that, after thousands of loops, you’ve finally lost it? Your mind shattering along with the glass of the barricade at the end of the last one?

Gojo tilts his head, indicating that he's still waiting for an answer. When you open your mouth, at first, nothing comes out, the words stuck in your throat. You force them out, your voice cracking, “...how did you know?”

He smiles, looking almost mischievous as he reaches up and lightly taps the side of his head. “I remembered, of course!”

All you can do is stare at Satoru Gojo. He remembered? How is that possible? From his perspective, this is the first time you’ve met and while it shouldn’t be possible for him to remember there’s something in your mind that’s keeping you from completely dismissing the possibility.

Gojo laughs, “I take it from the look on your face that you’re not used to this sort of thing happening. Is this the first time?”

“No.” The fact that the word is out of your mouth before you can even really think about it surprises you and you really have to think. Your face scrunches together as you try to remember. Is this really not the first time? Then, the memories assault you, overlapping as they replay simultaneously in your head— a woman in a yellow and white magical girl costume— begging you for help as she burns to death— smiling as she tells you she made her costume herself. “...it happened just once a long time ago.”

“‘A long time ago,’ huh. Sounds like you've been at this for a while now.”

“...unfortunately.”

Gojo hums. “So when you said you didn’t need my phone number…”

“You’d already given it to me a few times,” you say, figuring that’s where this conversation is going.

“Really now?”

Does he not believe you? Or is he just being an ass? You’re not sure, but since you had taken the liberty of memorizing Satoru Gojo’s phone number you recite it back to him to prove your point.

Just when you think you may have stunned Gojo into silence he starts to laugh, obviously finding something funny about the fact that you know his cell phone number. “Seems like you've got quite the fascinating technique there.”

Technique? What is he talking about? Your confusion must be plain on your face because he adds, elaborating, “The time travel.”

You continue to stare at him. You don't think you'd consider what you've been going through time travel, because traveling implies moving from point A to point B, but you've been stuck walking in circles at point A for a long time. What really gets you is… “What do you mean by ‘technique?’”

“You mean you don’t— oh. I get it; no wonder you’re trapped.”

That does not answer your question in the slightest. “Can you please explain what you're talking about? What do you mean by ‘technique?’”

“Right, right… So basically, a technique is like a special sort of power,” he finally explains. “Like I said, your technique seems to be a kind of time travel. Whenever you activate it, your mind is sent back in time.”

What he's saying makes sense, but… “How come you were sent back too?”

He laughs again. “Isn't it obvious? Think back to before— do you remember that I caught you as you were falling?”

You nod slowly. The memory of his arms around you is almost embarrassingly vivid. “...is it because we were touching?”

“Ding, ding, ding! That's correct! Anyone you happen to be touching when you activate your technique gets affected by it too!”

Something about his tone annoys you, but you try to ignore it. He could have just told you rather than make you guess. “How do you know that for sure?”

“Well,” he continues. “You’ve done your little time loop a bunch of times, right? If your technique affected everyone, or even a few people in a select range you would have noticed for sure. And if it affected only just you then we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now, now would we?”

When you think about it, you do think that the woman in the magical girl costume might have bumped into you before the loop where she remembered.

“That’s honestly just conjecture, but I've got pretty good eyes, so I’m hardly ever wrong.”

Gojo gives you a grin and while you do think that his reasoning is sound enough his confidence is a little grating. More than that, though, you’re glad that this conversation is actually going really well.

“Either way,” he says thoughtfully. “It doesn’t look like you can control your technique. Usually a person’s technique manifests when they’re a kid, but you seem to be a special case… in fact, I bet your technique activated for the very first time tonight— probably under some pretty extreme circumstances, too.”

“...dying counts as an ‘extreme circumstance,’ right?”

“Oh, absolutely. Or legitimately thinking that you’re gonna die, but it seems like your body has been unconsciously activating your technique as a sort of defense mechanism. Which is why you’re trapped.”

“So, if I could control it I’d be able to make it out of this time loop.”

“Yeah, but in this case it probably wouldn’t end very well for you,” he points out with a chuckle. “It’s not like you actually want to die, right? I mean, if you did, then your technique wouldn’t even activate in the first place.”

You don’t; what you want is for this night to finally end. To be free from the endless cycle of dying over and over again and again. You don’t think death is quite the answer; even if you were to learn how to control this supposed technique of yours, there’s no guarantee that you would just unconsciously activate it when the grim reaper comes knocking on your door. No, the answer is…

“Anyway!” Gojo’s cheery voice cuts through your thoughts. “I highly doubt that you’re the type that makes a habit of jumping off ledges for the funsies, so the fact that you’ve been dying tells me that some pretty gruesome stuff is about to go down, so, tell me what happens tonight.”

The sudden drop of his voice sends a shiver running down your spine. If it weren’t for the fact that you’ve seen how serious Gojo can get, the sudden shift in demeanor would probably freak you out a bit, but it doesn’t. This is the Satoru Gojo you’re familiar with.

You do have one concern though. “That… won’t create a time paradox or anything, will it?”

“Nah,” Gojo shrugs. “You wouldn’t cause one with the way your technique works, besides, if you’ve only been going back at most an hour or two in time it’s hard to believe you’d be making a really big impact… unless you really believe in the butterfly effect.”

You’re still not quite sure.

“Trust me, it’ll be fine.”

His voice sounds strange. Gentle. Kind. It's the most soothing thing you've heard in a long time and it makes you want to believe him.

“...okay.”

Anxiety is still gripping at you, but you try to dispel it, taking a deep breath before beginning your explanation. For the sake of brevity, it’s probably best that you’re as concise as possible. There isn’t much need to really get into the nitty gritty of things unless he asks specifically.

Naturally, you begin with his arrival onto the platform and how soon after a fight breaks out and how the crowd is unfortunate enough to be involved. Gojo’s expression is passive for the most part, but he does crack the faintest hint of a smile when you mention how he manages to eviscerate one of the monsters.

It disappears once you tell him about the arrival of the train. Between the dozens upon dozens of people being dropped onto the platform by those two high school girls and the hoard of monsters disembarking from the train, everything devolves into pandemonium.

“Wait,” Gojo holds a hand up and you pause. This is his first interruption since you started recounting the night’s events for him. “Everyone is able to see the monsters?”

You stare at him. What a weird question. “...yeah?”

His mouth twists and it looks like he’s thinking about something. You can’t even begin to imagine what. Finally, he comments, “Makes sense.”

It does not, but you don’t ask him to elaborate. Surely if it was important he would have just done so.

“Anyway, in the middle of all that, you… you do something.” Your brows bunch together as you remember the stance Gojo took, the crazed and desperate look in his eyes, the feeling of your head about to explode. “I don’t know how to describe it. At first, it would just force me to… activate my technique, I guess. But now, it just knocks me out for a few minutes.”

Gojo frowns and he rubs at his chin, obviously thinking about what you’ve said. Eventually, he raises a hand and bends his fingers into a familiar gesture. It’s the one that preludes whatever he does on the platform. “Do I do this?”

“Yeah.”

He hums. “Interesting.”

You wait to see if he’ll explain. He doesn’t. Great. Even if he doesn’t think you need to know, it certainly would be nice to. It’s annoying otherwise, but you ignore the feeling and continue. “I can’t tell you what happens when I’m knocked out, but when I come to everyone is basically a zombie and all the monsters from the train are gone. I think you kill them.”

“I probably do,” he says casually. “But what about Volcano Head?”

“...you don't…get a chance to kill him,” you say slowly. Gojo tilts his head, waiting for you to elaborate, but you hesitate. You have to tell him, you know you do, but…

You have seen the interaction so many times and though you don't know the exact nature of the relationship between them, you can tell that seeing Suguru Geto (or rather seeing his body) shook Satoru Gojo to his very core.

There's no doubt in your mind that he will not take this news well.

“Come on now,” Gojo's tone is light-hearted, unaware. “Don't keep me in suspense here.”

It's as if you're withholding the punchline to a joke. In a way, you suppose you are, but you don't think he's going to find it funny.

You take a deep breath. You need to tell him. The worst thing that could happen is that he doesn't believe you, but if that's the case… you'll probably just end up repeating this all again until you find a loop where he does.

Having made it this far, you'd like to avoid all that.

“Before you can get Volcano Head you get restrained by something called the prison realm,” you say slowly, “by someone calling themselves… Suguru Geto.”

The second the name leaves your mouth, there is a clear and obvious shift in the air. Gone is Gojo’s laid-back and frivolous demeanor, replaced with something more somber and almost frightening. The tension grows more and more palpable to the point that you think it might almost choke you.

You almost wish that it would.

“You can’t be serious,” Gojo finally says, once your words have fully sunk in.

“I—” You start to speak, but come to an abrupt stop when you see him shove his hand into his pocket to yank out his phone of all things.

The both of you know full well that there’s no reception here, but you don’t think that he’s planning on making any calls. Gojo scrolls and scrolls on his phone before he stops and shoves the screen in your face. It shows a picture of three people— a teenage girl with a cigarette in her mouth, a younger, happier version of Gojo sporting a pair of round sunglasses and—

“When you say ‘Geto’ is this who you’re referring to?” Gojo demands, using his other hand to point at the third person in the frame— a handsome young man with long dark hair pulled up into a bun.

“Yes, but—”

“That’s impossible. It can’t be him,” Gojo interrupts, his voice firm, cold even. “He’s dead.”

There’s a note of finality in his words that is definitely meant to leave no room for argument. It doesn’t stop you, though. Instead, you glare at Gojo’s stupid blindfold and say, “...being dead doesn’t mean a damn thing! I’ve died hundreds of times and yet I’m still fucking here, but—”

“Your situation is different,” he interjects, the temperature of his tone hiking up, his words like heated hissing. “I killed him almost a year ago. There's no way—”

“You didn't get rid of the body properly!” You cut him off, raising your voice in hopes that he'll take even just a second to stop and listen. It seems to work and you add something you remember ‘Geto’ saying. “You should have had Shoko Ieiri get rid of it, but you didn’t and now some… some kind of gross brain thing is possessing the corpse!”

The air between you both is silent as the grave. Though you can't see it, you can feel the weight of his gaze pressing down on you. He’s definitely having second thoughts about everything you’ve said so far. There’s a chance he might even think you’re his enemy now. You stare him down though, refusing to look away. You’ve made it this far, you can’t— you won’t back down.

“...you’re not lying, are you.” Gojo’s words are more of a statement than a question. There’s no doubt in your mind that he knows the answer, and yet he’s still asking. You wonder if maybe he’s clinging onto some vain hope that maybe, just maybe this all a sick, cruel joke that’s gone way too far.

“I’m not.”

Gojo holds your gaze for a second longer before he lets out a curse. “Fuck!”

“...I’m sorry,” you say quietly, mostly because it feels like the most correct thing to say at this moment. You don’t know the whole story, but it seems like they were close. If so, then it must have hurt Gojo a lot to have killed him, and must hurt even more to know that someone is desecrating the body. You hate that you, a complete and utter stranger, happened to be the person to tell him, but…

It had to be done, for the sake of getting past this unending night, it had to be done.

Gojo runs a hand through his hair and lets out a ragged sigh. “Okay. What happens after that?”

You give him a rundown of what follows; he gets sealed, the monsters wake up and all but ‘Geto’ leave in search of their next target. When you mention the high school girls demanding the brain give Geto’s body back, Gojo snorts loudly.

“Fat chance of that,” he says derisively.

You nod in agreement. It was clear to you that the brain parasite has no intent on giving it up any time soon. “After they leave, he… talks to me.”

“Probably couldn't ignore all that cursed energy you have,” Gojo remarks offhandedly.

You stare at him, expression twisted in a way that shows that you have absolutely no clue what that means. It should be fine for you to ask this one question; it actually concerns you after all. “What does that even mean?”

“Exactly what it sounds like, though… probably doesn't make much sense to you, does it?”

You give him a pointed glare and all Gojo does is laugh.

“Just think of it like having a lot of MP.”

“...Like in a video game?”

“Exactly!” Then, Gojo tilts his head, clearly thinking. You don't bother asking; you don't feel like he'll explain.

“He does ask me if I'm a sorcerer, whatever that is. Is that why?”

“Probably. Ordinary people don't have even a fraction of the energy you're packing.”

‘Ordinary people’ he says as if you’re not an ordinary person who got caught up in all this supernatural sorcery bullshit. Or at least you were, but if the time loops are really a product of your own doing…

“Does he kill you when you answer?” Gojo asks to get the conversation back on track.

“Not right away. What happens next kind of varies,” you answer. “He usually lets me have a question or two before he kills me; I've asked him a couple different things.”

“Really taking advantage, aren’t you?” Gojo says and you're not sure what to make of his tone. Is he mocking you or is he easing back into that laid-back persona of his?

“If I’m doomed to repeat the same situation over and over, I might as well make the most of it,” you respond flatly.

“You know, your technique kind of reminds me of save scumming.”

He’s definitely gone back to acting almost completely unserious— all signs of his earlier agitation are nearly gone.

“So what did you learn?”

“Well, the prison realm only holds one occupant. Once they’re sealed, time stops for them and the only way out is if the bearer unseals them or if they choose to kill themselves.”

“I see… And what about our body jacker?”

“He didn’t go into detail but he said something about… striving toward the evolution of mankind?” You frown a little at the memory. He didn’t explain further because he said that you wouldn’t understand.

“Huh. Interesting. Wonder how he was gonna go about doing that.”

“I don't know, but I can't imagine you'd like it since he goes out of his way to seal you into that box,” you say. “Said you’d get in the way because you’re too strong.”

Gojo shrugs his shoulders and grins a little. Cocky. “Well, I am the strongest sorcerer around, you know.”

You would think him overconfident if you hadn't seen the magnitude of his strength first hand.

“Anyway, that's as far as I ever go. When he's decided he’s done talking to me, he kills me and I loop back.”

“So, in short, what you want help with is getting past that point, right?”

“More or less.”

“And all I have to do is avoid getting caught by the prison realm?”

You nod.

“What’s it look like?” he asks. “A big cage with a bunch of metal bars?”

Now that you think about it, you haven’t woken up early enough to see it before it traps him, but you can’t imagine it looks that much different. “No.. It’s a small box with eyes… It gets big enough to fit you in it, though.”

“Huh.” He stretches his arms out above his head as if he’s trying to emphasize how large he actually is and shoots you a grin. “Should be easy enough then. I bet our body snatcher used the shock of seeing Suguru to trap me but since I'll see it coming, avoiding it'll be a piece of cake.”

Gojo makes it sound so easy, and maybe it really is as simple as that, but you can't help but be worried still.

“Don't tell me you don't think I can do it,” he says, tilting his head.

“It's not that,” you admit. “I'm just concerned I might die before we can get to that point.”

Truthfully, since you know that will just result in another loop you're less concerned with dying itself and more worried about losing the progress you've made in convincing Gojo to help you. Even though it's been clearly proven you can loop him as well, there's no guarantee you'll be able to make the physical contact needed to do it upon death.

“You've made it pretty far on your own, though, right?”

“Yeah, but… I’ve messed up plenty of times.” More than you can even count. “There's also the possibility that taking the time to talk to you might have thrown things out of whack.”

Speaking of time, you check your phone. It's 8:39PM. You curse.

Gojo leans over to check your phone. “Let me guess, I'm supposed to be somewhere right now.”

“Yeah, this is when you’re descending down onto the platform.”

“You know where I am down to the exact minute?” He asks and you tilt your head back and forth a little. It’s not exact per se, but it’s close enough. Gojo chuckles a little. “Man, I didn’t realize that you were actually that into me.”

That earns Gojo a glare from you, but he just laughs it off. “I doubt being a few minutes late is going to make a big difference.”

You certainly hope so.

“Don't worry,” Gojo says and you notice he's using that tone from earlier. “You won't die.”

It’s hard to argue with him when he uses such a reassuring sounding voice and yet, you still open your mouth to try— to voice your doubts, but what he says next silences you before you even can.

“I'll protect you.”

You think your heart stops beating in your chest and your words dissolve in your throat.

He grins at you. “Did you fall in love with me just now?”

That catches you a little off guard. You're willing to admit he's hot, but surely he must be joking. “How could you even think of something like that at a time like this?”

Gojo laughs again. “Well, since someone is so worried about their time table being all messed up, I better head down there; can’t keep Volcano Head and friends waiting, right?”

You blink. Is that it? “Wait, shouldn’t we make a plan or something?”

“Isn’t the plan for me to not get caught in the prison realm?”

Yes, but… “But what about me? Is there anything I can do?”

Gojo stares at you, or at least you think he does. “...I don’t know, is there?”

You’ve seen the encounter between Satoru Gojo and those monsters so many times and you try to picture a version of it where you intervene and… all you can see is yourself getting in his way. You’re no fighter, no… sorcerer, or whatever he is, you’re just some ordinary person that was unfortunate enough to get all caught up in this mess. The most you can probably do is kick the prison realm out of the way when the time comes, but otherwise… “...no, I guess not.”

His expression turns sympathetic. “You’ve done plenty by telling me everything that happens. So just wait up here, and let me handle the monsters.”

You almost nod. Almost. But then you remember what transpires up here above the platform. You know it sounds safer up here where you’re less likely to get involved in the carnage, but… “Wait, no, if I stay up here then I’ll fall to my death when those girls—”

Gojo laughs, interrupting you. “Don’t worry about that. It’ll be fine.”

“How?”

“Just trust me.”

“I…” It’s hard to. After everything you’ve gone through it’s hard to trust in anything, to believe in anything. Even though you’ve made it this far this time, the worry that something will go wrong and that you’ll have to do it all again still lurks in the back of your mind.

Despite all that, you want to believe.

You want to believe that you can make it past this unending night, that one day you’ll wake up and it’ll no longer be October 31, 2018. And the first step towards that is trusting in Satoru Gojo.

“...okay,” you say quietly. “Okay.”

Gojo chuckles then asks, “Anything else before I head off?”

You start to ask if there’s anything you should say, in case things don’t work out, but you stop yourself. You’re choosing to trust him, to believe in him— you can figure out that stuff later if things end up going south after all. So, instead you give him a smile and it feels a little weird because you don’t remember the last time you did. “Good luck!”

For a split second, Gojo looks almost surprised, but then he laughs again, beaming widely at you. He starts to move past you and reaches out to give you what you think is meant to be a reassuring squeeze of the shoulder and then he’s off. You turn to watch him go, the crowd, once again, parting almost naturally for him.

When he reaches the barricade, he pauses, raising his hand as if he’s giving you one last wave. Then he jumps over it onto his little perch and then less than a minute later he’s gone, descending to the platform below.

Now, all you can do is wait.

You check your phone again and it’s 8:44PM. If you remember correctly, the high school girls start threatening everyone right before 9PM. With Gojo’s arrival being shifted back almost five minutes, does that mean that they’ll be shifted back too? It would make sense, but you’re not too sure.

Out of habit, you keep checking your phone and at nearly 9PM, you hear the shrill voice of one of the girls over the crowd, commanding everyone to do what she says, her partner stringing up bodies until everyone listens. Everything plays out just as you remember it, which is mildly comforting, though you know that the events that happen up here are more or less independent from what happens below.

Surely, just as Gojo said, a few minutes aren’t going to change anything, but—

No.

You agreed to trust him. To trust that everything would be fine.

When the girls start to demand that as many people as possible climb onto the roots and vines covering the atrium your heart starts to hammer in your chest. In just a few minutes, all the foliage will disintegrate beneath you, and you and everyone else here will fall into the abyss below.

You are afraid.

There isn’t a single loop where you’ve really survived this fall. If you don’t die in midair, you die right after landing. It’s a death trap, and that’s why you’ve stopped coming up here. There’s a part of you, the part that knows what’s about to happen, that wants to try and run back onto stable footing. But you can’t, because you know if you do then the girls will kill you for sure; you have to stay.

It’ll be fine, you tell yourself, it’ll be okay.

You just have to trust Gojo.

An eight car train is pulling in. Please wait behind the yellow line.

You hear the announcement faintly below you. It’s almost time. You brace yourself and try to stay calm. Gojo said he would protect you, that you wouldn’t die. You don’t know how he intends to keep that promise, but all you can do is believe in his words.

It’ll be fine. It’ll be okay.

The vines and roots start to crack and the ground beneath you starts to give out. You squeeze your eyes shut as that sickening weightless feeling overtakes you. It occurs to you that this is actually quite literally a trust fall— will Satoru Gojo really be able to catch you?

As you fall, you realize almost instantly that something is different.

You’ve experienced this fall dozens of times and so, even though it has been a while since you’ve gone this route, you are very familiar with what it feels like. Something is different. You’re falling faster. The trajectory is changing. It’s like some force, other than gravity, is pulling at you.

Is this Gojo’s doing?

Just as your body collides with the ground you hear the sounds of mutilating flesh meld with the screams surrounding you. Blood and severed limbs litter the ground, but you try to ignore it. You need to focus on your own survival right now. Quickly, you scramble to your feet scan the area around you; you’re on the platform right now and right in front of you is—

Right in front of you is Satoru Gojo.

His back is turned to you, his focus currently elsewhere. Looking at him you realize you recognize this scene, though it’s much closer and at a different angle. He’s about to do that thing, that thing that knocks you out.

Something in you tells you to move closer to him, after all, he used his mysterious powers to deliberately bring you closer to him, right? You rush toward him and as you do something he said earlier pops up in your mind.

Anyone you happen to be touching when you activate your technique gets affected by it too!

Whatever he’s about to do… Is that his ‘technique?’ And if it is, would it work the same way as yours? If so, there’s only one way to find out: you need to touch him. You dodge monsters and other people as you run toward Satoru Gojo and—

A monster still manages to grab you, its large hands wrapping around your wrist. You try and yank it free, but it's much stronger than you are.

“Shit!” you hiss as the monster starts to pull you toward it and away from Gojo. What do you do? Your other hand is still free, should you try to punch it in the face? Or—

Before you can do anything, something blasts the monster’s head clean off. Shocked, you stare as the monster’s body slumps onto the ground, its grip loosening on you instantly. You whip your head around to find that while Gojo still has his back to you, his arm is bent back in your direction, his palm open as if he fired some invisible blast from it.

Then you feel it again, something pulling at you, but this time it's more forceful. Your body is yanked toward Gojo and the second you feel his hand press against you, you see him make that gesture with his other hand.

“Domain Expansion,” he whispers in a strained voice. “Infinite Void!”

Something happens and your vision flashes for a fraction of a second. And then—

The room is enveloped in an eerie stillness; all the violence and bloodshed coming to an abrupt stop. Monsters and humans alike stand like the living dead, unconscious with their eyes wide open as if they are staring into an infinite abyss. You recognize this scene, you’re familiar with it because it’s similar to the one you wake up to after being hit by Gojo’s ‘domain expansion.’ The only difference is the presence of the monsters, who are all but gone when you regain consciousness.

The pressure from Gojo’s hand is gone and he says to you, his voice still low. “If you’re squeamish when it comes to blood and gore, it might be best for you to close your eyes.”

And then he’s gone.

You do not take his advice. You do not close your eyes. How many loops were you unable to witness what’s about to unfold? A few hundred? A few thousand? And if all goes to plan, then you will never get another chance again: there’s no way you could possibly look away.

And what you see unfold before you is that Satoru Gojo was right.

He is the one to kill all the monsters.

It’s not as if you really had any doubt, after all, it seemed like the most logical conclusion to come to and yet…

There’s a difference between knowing and seeing.

All the violence resumes and the platform is engulfed in the sounds of carnage and slaughter once more. The lack of terrified screams makes everything more disconcerting— without them, all you can hear is the squelching echo of mangled flesh and blood splattering all over the place. You can’t really see him, but you can tell where Satoru Gojo is in the crowd as he leaves dozens upon dozens of decapitated heads soaring in his wake. Once or twice, he leaps out of the crowd and even from where you stand you can see the crazed glow of his inhumanly blue eyes as he massacres monster after monster.

Even though you don’t think you have anything to be scared of, you are still terrified: Satoru Gojo is no longer a man, but violence incarnate. You want to move closer to where Gojo gets trapped, but you’re afraid to. What if you get in his way? What if he kills you by accident?

Dying again when you’ve made it this far is definitely not ideal, but isn’t being killed by Gojo the best case scenario? Because then the two of you would probably loop together again and—

No.

Gojo said you wouldn’t die.

He said he’d protect you.

It’s hard to believe when he’s in the middle of a massacre, slaughtering monsters left and right, but you remind yourself yet again that you have to believe in him.

You take a deep breath and start moving, taking care to keep an eye on where Gojo is. You don’t know how long this is supposed to take, but you do know where he ends up when he’s just about done. The closer he gets to that spot, the sooner the prison realm will be unleashed upon him.

There’s a small group of zombified people nearby and you settle yourself among them. It’s not super close, but you think it's close enough that you'd be able to run over and kick the box away from Gojo if you have to. You do a quick survey to see if you can spot the body snatcher, but he's nowhere to be found. Hopefully, he hasn't noticed you moving around, or, if he has, he's more concerned with Gojo than he is with you. Given that you always seem to be the last thing he acknowledges, you'd like to think that he doesn't consider you a threat.

Which you're not, not really anyway.

The sounds of slaughter start to die down and you look to see Gojo approaching the spot where he gets caught. He looks beat, his eyes unfocused and his breathing heavy. You do another quick scan around him and notice a small box a few meters away from him, wrapped in what looks like paper charms or seals or whatever they're called. That has to be the prison realm— though it looks different than what you saw before. Gojo seems to notice it right after you do, his gaze honing in on it, examining it with some measure of bewilderment. Then, some invisible force slices through all the paper seals covering the box and it expands, the corners of the box floating up in midair to reveal what looks like a large sheet of dark red flesh with a large bloodshot eye stapled to the middle.

Disgusting.

If Gojo didn’t realize before, he seems to now, because he takes a step back, away from the grotesque thing. Good, good—

“Hey! Satoru!” Your blood runs cold at the sound of the body snatcher’s voice. He emerges from the crowd, smiling widely as he gives Gojo a wave. “Long time no see!”

Satoru Gojo’s entire body goes rigid. Shit. You told him, you warned him about what was going to happen, who he was going to see, but was that not enough? It’s possible that no amount of warning would have been enough to mentally prepare Satoru Gojo for the sight of the man he said he killed a year ago. After all, you know that there’s a stark difference between knowing and seeing. Even then, if Gojo doesn’t gather his wits and move now then he’s going to get caught and you can’t let that happen.

Your body moves before you can even think about it.

You scramble out from your hiding spot in the crowd and throw yourself in between Satoru Gojo and the prison realm. There’s no way you can kick it away from him now, not when it’s in this form, but maybe, if you get between them you can at least keep it from capturing him.

The eye quivers erratically, as it flits from Gojo to you. Every hair on your body stands on end as it watches you, the pupil dilating and contracting uncontrollably. You can’t look away from it, your own gaze fixed to your image reflected in the black abyss of the pupil. Something in the back of your mind tells you to stop, to get away, it’s dangerous, but you keep your feet firmly planted to the ground.

A second, or maybe even a minute passes and the prison realm shifts, its fleshy form morphing to restrain you.

The body jacker looks at you, his frown tinged with disgust. “Don’t you think you’re being rather rude by butting into what could have been a touching reunion?”

You scowl. Is he still trying to play the role of Suguru Geto?

He sighs and looks past you at Gojo. “Satoru, I thought bringing lesser sorcerers to fight alongside you was more trouble than it was worth?”

You hear Gojo snort from behind you, “It is… but this person here isn’t a sorcerer… Just like you aren’t Suguru Geto.”

The faker almost pouts and presses his hand to his chest as if Gojo's words have wounded him. “Satoru, I’m hurt, how could you say such a thing to your best friend?”

“Cut the bullshit,” Gojo snarls. “You can’t fucking fool me. You might be in Suguru’s body but I know with all my heart and soul that you’re not him.”

The corpse snatcher stares at Gojo, expression blank before he sighs once more. Then, his gaze shifts back to you, his eyes narrowed as he looks at you with sheer disdain. It feels as if you’ve been drenched in ice cold water. There's no smile this time but you already know what's going to happen.

He’s going to kill you.

“I intended to deal with you later since you seemed harmless enough,” he says, raising a hand to summon a monster— the same one he always uses to end your life. “But you’re in the way. So, I think it’s for the best if I just get rid of you right now.”

Instinctively, you try to take a step back but the prison realm’s restraints keep you in place. Not that it would have mattered much, even in the loops where you’ve tried to escape the faker’s monster, it still kills you, too fast and too agile for an ordinary human like you to avoid. All you can do is squeeze your eyes shut and wait for the monster to kill you. At least, it’s always painless.

Something touches your back.

Your eyes shoot open.

Before you is the monster, wiggling and writhing only mere centimeters from your face. It gurgles and snarls at you, desperate to fulfill its master’s wishes and kill you but it doesn’t move any closer. You stare at it with wide eyes, unsure of what to do.

Someone behind you clicks their tongue— Gojo. You try to turn your head to look at him, but your movements are too limited, the most you can do is turn your head to the side. The sounds the monster is making start to change, sounding more frenzied, almost as if it’s in pain, and you flit your eyes in its direction just in time to see its entire body explode. The monster's guts and bright purple blood fly off in every direction, getting on the floor, the ceiling, the zombified bodies of the people unfortunate enough to be nearby, but not on you.

This is Satoru Gojo’s doing.

He steps in front of you, half turned towards you as he moves in between you and the body snatcher. His hands are shoved in his pockets as he loudly says, “Did you really forget about me?”

You’re not sure if he’s talking to you or the body snatcher.

Past him, the imposter scowls, raising his hand once more, probably to summon even more monsters, but Gojo’s quicker, and it almost looks like his eyes are glowing even brighter, the blue looking almost white as he whips his head in the faker’s direction. The sound of mangling flesh and breaking bones echoes throughout the room as Gojo, using that mysterious power of his, seems to break the faker’s arm.

The body snatcher hisses loudly and despite the fact that his face is twisted in very obvious pain, he tries to shoot Gojo a mocking smile. “Do you really think you can kill your best friend again?”

“I already told you,” Gojo turns to fully face the monster inhabiting Geto’s corpse. He tilts his head a little to the side and some force starts to squeeze at the faker’s neck. “You’re not Suguru.”

You hear a loud crack as Gojo telekinetically snaps his neck.

The head rolls onto the ground and you almost look away, but then you notice his eyes still moving, looking around. Is he still alive? Then you remember: the thing possessing Suguru Geto’s body was some kind of parasite. “Gojo! Wait! The brain!”

He reacts almost instantly, head turning and in an instant the skull is crushed and all that remains is red splotch on the ground.

You almost relax. Almost.

But the body is still standing.

Horrified, you watch as it quivers violently before falling to the ground. Then what looks like dozens of black spirits start to erupt from the corpse and the entire room is engulfed with a shrill howling.

What the hell is going on?

“Those must be all the cursed spirits he consumed,” Gojo explains uselessly, voice barely audible over the screaming. “Guess he was empty before.”

You don’t bother asking what he means. There are bigger problems right now. “What do we do?”

“No choice to exorcise them,” he answers plainly.

For him to exorcise them, he means. You both know that there’s not much that you can do. You still can’t move and honestly, you don’t even know if it’s possible to get out of the prison realm’s restraints. Not without dying. And if you die now…

Everything will have been for naught.

You’ll reset time and have to do this all over again— assuming you can even get to this point again.

There has to be something, you just have to think outside the box.

Or rather—

“Gojo!”

He glances back at you.

“You need to seal me in the prison realm!” you exclaim. He turns to face you fully, looking bewildered and you start to explain as fast as you can. “Those things are going to attack any minute right? I can’t move or try to hide and I can’t expect you to protect me the entire time and if I die then I’ll end up looping time again, but— but, if you seal me in the prison realm then that won’t happen.”

Gojo frowns, looking conflicted. “You don’t think I can do it?”

“Wouldn't it be easier if you didn’t have to?”

He tilts head and you think he’s conceding your point.

“Please,” you beg, staring at him desperately. “We don’t have much time. The other… cursed spirits will wake up soon too!”

You don’t have to explain that you mean Volcano Head and friends.

It takes only a second for Gojo to consider the very few options you have. “...how do you seal it? Do you know?”

“I think so,” you answer. “There’s no guarantee it’ll work but I think that if you say ‘prison realm, gate close’ it should seal me inside.”

If anything, it’s worth a shot.

Gojo nods. “Do you know how to break the seal?”

“I… don’t,” you confess. You never asked, and you don’t think the body snatcher would have told you even if you did. He only told you that it holds one and that…

That time doesn’t flow in the box.

“...you don’t have to break the seal.”

Gojo frowns, “Wait a sec—”

“Even if I make it past tonight… What if this all happens again? What if I inadvertently trap myself in another time loop?” you ask. “I… I don’t want to have to go through all of this again. It’s better for me in a place where time doesn’t pass.”

You don’t know for sure if it’ll be better, but right here, right now, it seems like the best option.

It feels like an eternity passes before Gojo says anything.

“...fine,” he agrees and you don’t quite know how to feel about it. The howling around you all grows louder. You wonder why the cursed spirits haven’t attacked yet. Maybe Gojo’s power is holding them at bay… for now anyway. You both know that he can’t ignore them forever.

“...before I do, though, mind if I ask you just one thing?”

You blink. “Not sure what I can do for you in this state…”

He laughs. “I just want to know your name.”

What an odd request. Though, now that you think about it, you don’t think that during this loop or any other loop really, you’ve ever told him your name. It only seems fair to tell him, since you’ve known his for longer than he’s known of your existence.

You tell him your name.

He nods, looking as if he’s committing to memory. Probably easier to remember than his phone number. “Any last words?”

You try to think of something. Nothing comes to mind and you just shake your head.

Gojo takes a deep breath, “Alrighty then… Prison realm, gate close.”

Just as it did the many times you’ve seen Satoru Gojo sealed away, the boxes and restraints around you vibrate a little before they start to close around you, growing large enough to fit your body as they approach.

You won’t see it, but once you’re inside the box will shrink and become small enough to fit in the palm of someone’s hand.

Will it be quiet inside?

In your final seconds, some words, some last words come to mind, and you say them, hoping that he hears them in time. “Thank you, Satoru Gojo.”

You burn the glittering glow of his brilliant bright blue eyes into your mind.

And then, everything is engulfed in an unending black.

It’s November 30, 2018— morning on the campus of Tokyo Prefectural Jujutsu High School.

Satoru Gojo strides through the school grounds, casually tossing a small silver box with eerie blue eyes known as the prison realm up and down in his grasp. Walking at his side is Shoko Ieiri, a pretty woman who’s been unfortunate enough to have been Satoru’s friend since high school.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Shoko asks, twirling a few strands of her long brown hair.

“What do you mean?” Satoru responds nonchalantly. “All my ideas are good ideas.”

Shoko hums in clear dissent, but doesn’t say anything more. Even she knows better than to try and waste her time trying to argue with Satoru. “I’m just worried about their mental state. Didn’t you say that time doesn’t flow in the box?”

“I’d be worried if it was some normal person,” Satoru says. “But after what they’ve gone through I think they’ll be fine.”

“...well, if you say so.”

The two arrive at their destination: the largest training area on the Jujutsu High grounds. Satoru places the prison realm at the center and takes a few steps back with Shoko standing behind him, in case anything happens.

He doesn’t think it will, but it’s always good to take at least a few precautions.

“Gojo, are you sure we should be doing this?” Shoko asks again. “Didn’t they want to remain in the box?”

“Of course I am,” Satoru says with his usual air of confidence before looking back at the prison realm nestled in the grass. He grins and then—

“Prison realm, gate open.”

if you made it this far. thank you. it's my sincerest hope that you enjoyed the ride. 3

[lxvsiick]

heyyyy!!!! did you saw the recent wv post of Taesan's OMGJISMSKSKS!!!!!!!!!! He wanted to go on the Oasis's concert and was asking how to get tickets something like that and someone said "if I manages tickets with 2 seat will you go with me?" and he replied with "you can't concentrate on the performance" LIKE OMGJOKSKSKJSHSJDBDH i literally giggled after reading that 😵‍💫😵‍💫

So, coming to the point i really got a yummy angsty fluffy fluff idea after seeing that and i can't stop imagining it now‼️

Can you please write a angsty but fluff at the end where s/o and Taesan gets into a big fight ( s/o's fault ) and Taesan gives reader a silent treatment in the end s/o surprises Taesan with two tickets of Oasis's concert in Korea.

I'm not good at explaining but i hope you understood what I meant, love your writing a lot ❤️

MESS IT UP (REQUESTED) | HAN TAESAN X READER

PAIRING: non! idol! han taesan x fem! reader

GENRE: angst, fluff, imagine

WORDCOUNT: 3.4k

A/N: i’m sorry if this doesn’t meet your expectations 😭 i wrote this on 2 hours of sleep so it’s not my best work :( this wasn’t as angsty as i hoped and my brain is kind of blank at the moment 🥲

★🎸🎧⋆｡ °⋆

The soft hum of background music filled the cozy living room as Taesan and Y/n lounged on the couch, side by side, each engrossed in their phones. The gentle rustling of their scrolling was the only other sound, comfortable in their quiet companionship. The afternoon sun streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over the room.

Suddenly, Taesan jumped up from his seat, startling Y/n. His eyes were wide with excitement, and a grin spread across his face.

“Holy—no way!” he exclaimed, almost bouncing on his feet.

Y/n, confused and slightly amused by his sudden burst of energy, lowered her phone and raised an eyebrow at him. “What’s gotten into you?” she asked with a small laugh. “You look like you won the lottery.”

He turned his phone around to show her the screen, his hand trembling with excitement. “Oasis!” he practically shouted. “They’re holding a concert in Korea!”

Y/n blinked, leaning closer to read the post on his phone. Sure enough, there it was: Oasis Live in Seoul. She looked back up at him, his excitement contagious as he practically vibrated with joy.

“No way,” she said, a smile creeping onto her face at seeing him so hyped. “You’re a huge fan of them, right?”

“Huge fan?” he repeated, flopping back onto the couch beside her, still buzzing with energy. “Y/n, Oasis is like my lifeblood! I’ve been waiting for this for ages. I am definitely getting tickets. I don’t care what it takes.”

He was already swiping through his phone, checking the ticketing site, his fingers moving rapidly as if the concert was going to sell out that second. Y/n chuckled, watching him.

“Calm down,” she teased. “You’ll probably crash the site with how fast you’re trying to get in.”

He shot her a playful look, eyes gleaming with determination. “I have to be prepared! This is a once-in-a-lifetime thing! Oasis. In Korea. We’re going!”

“We?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course!” he said, beaming. “I’m not going without you. Plus, who else is gonna calm me down when I lose it during all the songs’?”

Y/n laughed, shaking her head as he continued to scroll. “Alright, alright, I guess I’m going to an Oasis concert then.”

“You won’t regret it!” he said, throwing his arm around her shoulder and pulling her close, his eyes still glued to his phone. “I’m getting those tickets no matter what. It’s gonna be great!”

As he leaned into her, still bubbling with enthusiasm, Y/n smiled to herself, amused by how excited he was, yet feeling warm at the thought of sharing the experience with him.

★🎸🎧⋆｡ °⋆

The soft glow of a laptop screen lit up Taesan’s tense face as he sat hunched over the coffee table, fingers poised above the keyboard, eyes glued to the screen. He was sitting cross-legged on the floor, bouncing his leg nervously, unable to sit still. The ticking countdown on the concert ticket website loomed in front of him, each second feeling like an eternity.

"Come on, come on," he muttered under his breath, glancing at the remaining time—just seconds to go. His heart pounded in anticipation.

3… 2… 1…

The timer hit zero, and Taesan lunged forward, his fingers flying over the keyboard as he clicked frantically to secure the tickets. The screen refreshed, loading… loading…

His chest tightened. The queue moved at a snail's pace, but finally, the buy button appeared. He clicked it with desperation, but before he could even exhale, the screen flashed red.

“Sold out.”

His stomach sank. He blinked, staring at the mocking words in disbelief. "No way," he whispered, his hand hovering above the mouse as if it could somehow change the outcome. He tried refreshing again, but the result was the same.

Hours later, the front door creaked open. Y/n stepped into the apartment, kicking off her shoes and calling out, "Dongminnie, I'm back!"

There was no response.

Frowning slightly, she made her way to the living room, where she found Taesan still sitting in the exact same spot, staring blankly at his laptop. He looked completely drained, his face devoid of any of his usual energy.

"Hey," she said softly, walking over to him. "Did you get the tickets?"

His silence spoke volumes.

She knelt behind him, her arms wrapping around his shoulders, pulling him into a gentle hug from behind. Resting her chin on his shoulder, she looked at the frozen screen in front of him. "They sold out, didn’t they?" she whispered, understanding instantly.

He nodded slightly, still not taking his eyes off the screen. "I can’t believe it," he said, his voice low and filled with disbelief. "They sold out so fast."

Y/n tightened her hold on him, rubbing his shoulder in comfort. "I’m sorry," she said softly, resting her cheek against his.

For a moment, they just sat there, quiet and close, the disappointment lingering heavily in the air. Taesan let out a long breath, finally pulling his gaze away from the screen and leaning into her touch. "I’ve been sitting here for hours," he admitted with a frustrated chuckle. "I was so ready."

"I know," she said, her voice soothing. "But we’ll find another way. There’ll be more concerts."

"Yeah," he sighed, trying to cheer up, but the weight of missing out still hung over him. He rested his head against hers. "Guess I’ll have to settle for watching videos online."

Y/n smiled, kissing his cheek lightly. "Or maybe I’ll make it my mission to get you those tickets somehow," she teased gently, trying to lift his spirits.

He chuckled softly, finally breaking into a small smile. "If anyone can pull that off, it’s you."

★🎸🎧⋆｡ °⋆

The soft glow of the TV flickered in the otherwise dark living room. Taesan sat slouched on the couch, scrolling through his phone. He sighed in frustration as he came across yet another post of someone bragging about their concert tickets. It had been two days since he failed to secure tickets, but the disappointment still lingered. Every tweet, every post—it all felt like a taunt.

The clock ticked toward 11 p.m. Y/n still wasn’t home. He glanced at his phone again, noticing his last message to her, sent hours ago, still sat unread. Usually, she was back by 8 after her shift, but now it was already late.

Just as his worry began to escalate, the door clicked open. He perked up, sitting straighter, and turned toward the entrance. Y/n stepped inside, a little breathless, carrying her bag over one shoulder. She froze momentarily upon seeing him awake.

"You're still up?" she asked, surprise flickering in her eyes.

Taesan stood up from the couch, eyeing her with a mix of concern and curiosity. "Yeah. It's kinda late, don't you think? I was waiting for you. You didn’t answer my texts."

She set her bag down carefully, avoiding his gaze for a moment. "Oh… yeah, sorry about that. It was just a really long day," she replied, her tone tired yet strangely distracted. "I didn’t get the chance to check my phone."

He frowned slightly, sensing something off in her demeanor. "You okay? Work rough today?"

She nodded, but her answer was delayed. "Yeah, something like that."

Y/n shuffled past him toward the kitchen, busying herself with pouring a glass of water. Taesan followed her, leaning against the doorway, watching her with a concerned expression.

"Everything good? You’re acting kinda weird," he said, his voice gentle but probing.

Her hands paused, gripping the glass tightly. "Yeah, I’m fine," she said, forcing a small smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She took a sip of water, then cleared her throat. "I just wanted to tell you… I’m going to be really busy for the next few days. You might not see me around much."

The way she said it sounded rehearsed, and there was a nervous edge to her voice that wasn’t lost on him.

"Busy?" he echoed, raising an eyebrow. "With what?"

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her back still turned to him. "You know… work and other things. I’ve just got a lot going on. I’ll probably be out late, so don’t wait up for me."

Taesan stared at her, his gaze narrowing slightly. She was being evasive, and he knew her well enough to pick up on it. But instead of pressing her, he let it slide—for now. "Okay… if you say so."

She finally turned to face him, offering another weak smile. "Thanks for understanding."

He returned her smile, but it was laced with quiet suspicion. Something didn’t feel right, but he wasn’t going to push it just yet. "Yeah, no problem," he said, though his mind was already racing with possibilities. What was she up to?

As she headed toward their room, Taesan remained in the doorway, watching her with a mix of curiosity and concern. There was definitely something she wasn’t telling him.

Whatever it was, he had a feeling he was going to find out soon enough.

★🎸🎧⋆｡ °⋆

The sound of the shower dripped to a halt as Taesan turned off the water, wrapping a towel around his waist. The past few days had been gnawing at him—Y/n had been acting off. She’d been leaving the apartment earlier than usual, coming home late, and constantly checking her phone, flipping it face down every time it buzzed. He didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but with each passing day, it became harder to ignore the sinking feeling in his gut.

Drying off quickly, he stepped out of the bathroom, running a hand through his damp hair. As he walked down the hallway, a faint voice caught his attention. He paused.

It was Y/n, her voice low, almost a whisper. She was on the phone, and though he didn’t want to eavesdrop, something about her tone made him freeze in place.

"I know," she murmured, her back to him as she stood by the kitchen counter. He could just make out her figure from where he stood, hidden around the corner. "But he can’t find out. He has no clue right now."

His heart skipped a beat.

Y/n shifted, pacing slightly, her fingers gripping the phone tightly. "I talked to Jaehyun already. We’ll make sure everything’s set. Just don’t let him know. I don’t want him to find out."

Taesan's stomach twisted painfully. Jaehyun? Why would she be talking to Jaehyun behind his back? And what did she mean by he can’t find out? His mind spiraled with possibilities, each one worse than the last.

Was she hiding something from him? Something serious? His throat felt tight as the worst-case scenario flooded his mind—was she… cheating on him?

He shook his head slightly, trying to push away the thought, but it lingered like a dark cloud. He wasn’t the type to jump to conclusions, but the secrecy, the late nights, the constant checking of her phone—it was all piling up.

He took a small step forward, his heart pounding in his chest, but before he could do anything, she ended the call abruptly. "Okay, I’ll see you later," she whispered into the phone before hanging up. Her shoulders relaxed, and she put the phone down, letting out a quiet breath.

The tension in Taesan’s chest felt unbearable. He stood there, unsure of what to do, caught between confronting her and giving her the benefit of the doubt.

Without thinking, he stepped fully into the room, acting casual as if he hadn’t just overheard the entire conversation. "Hey, everything okay?" he asked, trying to sound normal even though his voice came out a little too tight.

Y/n jumped slightly, clearly startled. "Oh, yeah! Everything’s fine," she said quickly, giving him a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. "Just talking to a friend."

His eyes flicked to her phone, now face down on the counter, and then back to her. "Anything I should know about?" he asked lightly, though the tension in his voice was hard to mask.

Her smile faltered for just a second, and she shook her head. "No, nothing important."

He nodded slowly, forcing a smile, but the knot in his stomach remained.

As Y/n went back to what she was doing, Taesan stood there for a moment longer, feeling the weight of everything unsaid between them. Something was going on, and whatever it was, she wasn’t telling him.

The silence between them felt thicker than usual, and as he sat down on the couch, he couldn’t help but wonder—was she keeping a secret that could tear them apart?

★🎸🎧⋆｡ °⋆

The soft hum of the television filled the living room, casting a warm, flickering light over Taesan and Y/n as they sat on the couch. But despite the comfortable setting, an uneasy silence hung in the air.

Taesan was lost in thought, his eyes fixed blankly on the screen but not really seeing it. The conversation he overheard a few days ago still gnawed at him, his mind running in circles. He couldn't shake the doubt, the questions, the fear.

Beside him, Y/n noticed his silence. She glanced at him, concerned. "Hey," she said softly, nudging him. "What's going on? You’ve been quiet all day."

He didn’t respond immediately, his jaw tightening as he debated whether to say what had been weighing on his heart. The tension between them had only grown over the past few days, the distance widening like a chasm.

Finally, he turned to her, his voice low but direct. "Are you cheating on me with Jaehyun?"

The question hung in the air like a heavy cloud, thick with uncertainty.

Y/n’s eyes widened in shock. "What?" She sat up straight, her heart racing. "Where is this even coming from?"

His gaze didn’t waver. "I overheard you talking on the phone a few days ago. You were whispering about how I couldn’t find out, and you mentioned Jaehyun. You’ve been acting suspicious for weeks now. I didn’t want to assume the worst, but… what else am I supposed to think?"

The disbelief on Y/n’s face quickly gave way to anger. Her mind raced, and in her frustration, she forgot the real reason she had been acting so secretive. But the accusation caught her completely off guard, making her lash out.

"Are you serious right now?" she snapped, standing up from the couch, her eyes blazing with hurt and anger. "How could you even think that?”

“Well, I wouldn’t have thought this way if you weren’t being so secretive!” Taesan snapped back, standing up from the couch. Y/n brushes her hair back in frustration. 

“I know you’re smart but I can’t believe you would come up with that conclusion. Maybe you should stay out of my business if you’re going to make stupid assumptions." she blurted out.

The words left her lips before she could stop them.

Taesan flinched as if she’d physically struck him. His face went pale, his eyes filled with hurt that cut deep. For a moment, he just stood there, stunned.

"You want me to stay out of your business?" he repeated, his voice soft but filled with disbelief. He stared at her, the sting of her words hanging in the air. "Is that what you really want?"

Instantly, Y/n regretted what she’d said. Her anger melted into guilt as she realized the gravity of her outburst. This wasn’t about keeping him out of her business—she had been planning something special for him, but in her frustration, she had lost control. She opened her mouth to take it back, to explain, but the damage was already done.

The room felt suffocating with the weight of everything unsaid.

Taesan took a slow breath, clearly trying to hold himself together. "I’m not gonna fight with you over this," he said quietly, his voice strained. "You need space, fine. I’ll give you space. We can talk when you’ve calmed down."

He turned and walked toward the door, each step heavy with the pain he was trying to conceal. Y/n watched him go, the words stuck in her throat, but she couldn’t bring herself to say them.

As the door clicked shut behind him, the silence that followed was deafening.

She sank back down onto the couch, her heart pounding in her chest. She hadn’t meant for any of this to happen. She had just wanted to surprise him with something that would make him happy, but now she had hurt him instead. Her hands trembled as she realized how badly she had messed up.

All she wanted was to make things right. But now, she wasn’t sure how.

★🎸🎧⋆｡ °⋆

The tension in the apartment had been unbearable for the past few days. Every attempt Y/n made to apologize was met with silence. She tried small gestures—making his favorite meals, leaving sweet notes, even trying to strike up conversations—but Taesan would just nod or walk away. The rift between them felt wider than ever.

It was two days before the Oasis concert, and Y/n was at her breaking point. She knew she had to tell him the truth, even if it meant ruining the surprise. Anything was better than this painful silence. She found him in the living room, sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone.

Taking a deep breath, she walked over, standing in front of him. "Can we please talk?" she asked softly, her voice trembling.

Taesan didn’t respond, his eyes still on the screen.

Her heart sank. She had been holding it together for days, but the weight of his cold shoulder, the guilt that gnawed at her for keeping the secret, and the regret for the fight was too much. Tears welled up in her eyes, her chest tightening as she tried to hold them back.

"Please, I’m sorry," she whispered, her voice cracking as a tear slipped down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away but more followed. "I… I wasn’t cheating on you. I swear. I was trying to surprise you." Her hands fumbled in her pocket, pulling out two Oasis concert tickets. "These… these were for you. I got them with the help of your friends. That’s why I was being so secretive."

Finally, Taesan looked up from his phone, his eyes widening as he saw the tickets in her hand and the tears on her face. His heart dropped as guilt hit him like a punch in the chest. He had been so convinced that she was hiding something worse, that she was drifting away from him. But now, seeing her standing there, crying and holding those tickets, he realized just how wrong he’d been.

He stood up quickly, closing the distance between them and pulling her into a tight hug. Her body shook as she cried into his chest, her arms hesitating for a moment before wrapping around him.

"Hey, hey… don’t cry," he whispered, kissing the top of her head. He pulled back just slightly, just enough to tilt her chin up, and pecked her lips softly. "I’m sorry," he murmured, brushing his thumb over her damp cheeks, wiping away the tears.

Y/n sniffled, her lip trembling. "Can you forgive me?" she asked, her voice so small and vulnerable.

He nodded, guilt still gnawing at him, but the love he felt for her far outweighed it. "Of course I can. I’m sorry too, for jumping to conclusions and giving you the cold shoulder. I shouldn’t have assumed you were cheating."

She smiled faintly through her tears, leaning into his touch. "I just wanted to surprise you with the tickets…"

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "And I was so butt hurt about not getting those tickets, I actually thought you might’ve cheated on me with Jaehyun because of it." He gave her a sheepish grin, clearly embarrassed.

That lightened the mood, and Y/n let out a weak laugh, sniffling again as she wiped the last of her tears. "You’re an idiot."

"I know," he admitted, pulling her back into his arms. This time, the embrace was calm, comforting. They stayed like that for a long moment, neither one wanting to break the warmth and peace they’d finally found again.

"I love you," he whispered into her hair, holding her close.

"I love you too," she replied softly, her head resting on his chest, the steady beat of his heart soothing her. They had been through a storm, but now, in each other’s arms, everything felt right again.

★🎸🎧⋆｡ °⋆

MASTERLIST

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, lxvsiick, 2024

[locomoqo]

Omg i loved your latest fic!!! What if they actually got their lovers pregnant? How would gun+goo react😫😫??

Also Keep up the good work!✨💘

be my baby

ft. gun park & goo kim x f!reader [separate]

details: a part 2 to this fic! this is pure fluff, no funny business

A/N: all the fluff content lately bc my mind is kinda too fried to write smut atm😵‍💫 (BUT i am in the middle of writing those reqs so stay tuned) reblogs are appreciated ^^ enjoy!!

ᯓ★—GUN

Gun’s noticed how off you've been acting ever since he got here. It’s like you’re walking on eggshells around him, which makes him wonder if something’s bothering you—or if maybe he's the problem. Deciding to address it, he approaches you in the kitchen where you're carefully arranging fruit in a bowl. It’s a simple task, but you’re putting an unusual amount of focus into it.

“You’ve been quiet since I got here,” he finally speaks up, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. “Somethin' upset you?” His brow arches in question, but you remain silent, pressing your lips into a thin line.

In truth, ever since Gun arrived, you've been caught in a swirl of excitement and nerves. This morning, you realized your period was late, so you took a pregnancy test. When it came out positive, you were thrilled. But as the day went on, your excitement began to mix with anxiety. What if Gun didn’t feel the same way? What if all those whispered promises during intimate moments were just words spoken in the heat of passion?

You snap back to reality, still holding an apple. After staring at it for a moment, you sigh and set it down, turning to face him. “Can… can I tell you something?” you ask hesitantly, meeting his eyes. His eyebrows lower as he studies you, giving a brief nod. You take a deep breath, closing your eyes before finally saying, 

“I’m… pregnant.”

Gun’s expression remains unreadable, though you can feel the shift in the air. The silence stretches out, long enough to make you second-guess everything—especially what might be going through his head.

“You’re… pregnant,” he repeats slowly, his gaze shifting to your stomach. You nod, confirming it. Hesitantly, he reaches out, his hand finding your waist and pulling you closer, his thumb brushing lightly over your belly. His touch is soft, as if he’s trying to process the news through feeling alone.

“You okay?” you whisper, your voice as soft as a breeze. He doesn’t respond immediately, and when he does, his voice is quieter, more vulnerable. “Yeah,” he nods, still processing. His eyes return to your belly, a look crossing his face that you’ve never seen before—a mixture of awe, fear, excitement, and uncertainty all at once.

A small, amused smile tugs at his lips. “Can’t believe I’m going to be a father,” he huffs softly, still stroking your belly through your shirt. The tension in your shoulders melts away, relief flooding you at his calm reaction. He’s not opposed to the news—far from it.

You smile at him, glancing down at your stomach. “I can’t believe it either,” you say. Gun steals a glance at you. You’re saying something, but the content of your words is lost on him, he’s too focused on the happiness glowing on your face.

He’s always been protective of you, but now that you're carrying his child, that protectiveness feels stronger. It’s not suffocating, but it’s there. After all, he has two things to lose now.

While Gun has never been the most verbally expressive, he shows his love and support through his actions. You’ll notice it in the small things—how he places a steadying hand on the small of your back when you walk, or how he’s always ready to help you stand when you’ve been sitting too long. He’ll quietly ensure you’re taken care of, like refilling your prenatal vitamins without you asking or indulging your late-night cravings with meals he cooks himself, no questions asked.

Sometimes, you’ll wake in the middle of the night to find his hand resting protectively on your belly, or catch him staring at different spots in the house, mumbling to himself about baby-proofing everything.

“You’ll make a good father,” you tell him one night, your voice filled with quiet certainty.

He freezes for a moment, clearly taken off guard by the weight of your words. He swallows, averting his gaze as if needing a second to collect himself. Then, he reaches for your hand, intertwining your fingers with his. “We’ll see,” he murmurs, his voice softer than usual, with just the faintest hint of uncertainty slipping through. 

But his hand stays in yours, and in that simple gesture, you know he’s in this with you.

ᯓ★—GOO

It’s a quiet evening, and Goo is flipping through the channels with ease, though his mind is filled with concern. You've been acting a bit different since he got home. He catches the way you open your mouth as if to say something, but then quickly close it, shaking your head. It leaves him wondering what you’ve been wanting to tell him.

The moment you finally call his name, his head turns toward you instantly, all of his attention now focused on you.

“Yeah?” he asks, eyes locked on yours. You're fiddling with the fabric of your shirt, clearly nervous about whatever it is you’re about to say.

“I’m... I’m pregnant.”

There’s a brief pause. For a split second, his face is unreadable. Then, slowly, that familiar grin spreads across his lips, but this time, it’s different. Softer. He blinks a few times, processing your words before saying, “Wait, what? You mean... we’re having a baby?”

When you nod with a small, uncertain smile, he’s up off the couch in an instant, pulling you into his arms. “So that’s why you’ve been acting all weird. You were nervous about telling me this?” He grins, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “Should I start growing some facial hair? You know, to get that dad look going?” he jokes, and your laughter, as always, is music to his ears.

“I can’t even imagine you with facial hair,” you giggle, cupping his cheek. “You’d look ridiculous.”

But as the seconds pass, you notice a subtle shift in his expression. The playful spark in his eyes dims just a bit, replaced by something more serious. He gazes at you, and for the first time since you broke the news, you see the weight of it settle in.

“I’m going to be a father…” he murmurs, his hand resting gently on your stomach. “Are you... okay? I mean, with everything? How are you feeling?” he asks, his voice softer than usual, filled with genuine care.

Goo isn’t the type to be serious often, but you know he’ll be by your side, teasing you about your cravings or cracking jokes about your baby becoming a mini genius like him. It’s his way of keeping things light, making sure you don’t get too overwhelmed by everything. Despite his jokes, you can sense his protectiveness, he just hides it behind his humor. He's always checking in with you, offering to get you things, giving you random foot rubs, and—on more than one occasion—trying to cook for you!

One night, when the baby starts kicking for the first time, Goo’s reaction is surprisingly tender. His hand is on your belly immediately, his expression softening in a way you rarely see. “Whoa… that’s... so weird,” he murmurs, which earns him a playful smack on the arm from you. His eyes widen as he feels the tiny flutter of movement beneath his palm. But you catch the glint of something else in his gaze—fear. Just a hint of it, quickly masked by his usual easygoing smile. “Think we’ve got a future fighter on our hands.” He jokes.

Despite the joke, you know what’s really going on. He’s feeling the weight of it all, even if he hides it behind his playful banter. You run a hand through his hair, offering him a reassuring smile. “Everything’s going to be fine,” you whisper, and for a moment, he just looks at you, all traces of humor gone. He nods, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead.

That's all it takes for him to quietly promise himself that he’ll do everything to ensure you and the baby have the most comfortable life possible.

[marvel-snape-writes]

Hi there :) could you write something on letting snape fuck you raw for the first time and he goes feral for cumming inside you 😵‍💫 pretty please!

Our Best Worst Habit

18+ smuuuuuuuuutttttttyyyy

🪄— thank you so much for this request, I hope I did it some justice! 🫶

4k+ words

His chamber was silent. His voice was silent. His mood was foul. The atmosphere was heavy. The party was over.

Severus had been sat in his desk chair since they had returned, busying himself by reading the newspaper that had been placed on it earlier in the day and the chair pushed back enough so he could hold the paper out fully in both hands in front of him. The room was quiet enough for her to be able to hear each turn of each page and his breathing as he did it.

Though he did somewhat make her weary when he was in this state, she almost enjoyed trying to entice him out of it. Cautiously, she approached him from behind and place her hands against his shoulders, brushing the material over his shoulders as she dipped her head forward and pressing a light kiss to his ear before speaking softly, “Anything exciting in there?”

Severus’ breath hitched when he felt her hands upon his shoulders and changed completely when her lips were against his ear, nostrils flaring at her question. He looked to the side of him where her head was positioned, letting out a small huff but not speaking a single word.

“Severus?” She spoke against his neck this time, brushing her lips against his skin slowly. Severus cleared his throat irritably, his grip on the newspaper now tightening and crinkling the pages slightly, “Sev…” She spoke once more, pursing her lips against him now.

Severus didn’t speak, but the way he wafted his arm in the air and glare he gave spoke a thousand words. He let out an irritated, low growl from the back of his throat when he felt her pushing her luck once more as her lips dragged against the side of his neck whilst forming into a smirk. Calmly, though suspiciously calmly, he closed the paper and folded it in half, placing it on the desk a few inches in front of him. Silently, he raised the same arm as before but clicked his finger and thumb together this time before pointing his large index finger at the space in front of him between the chair and desk, still not saying anything.

Her breath hitched from his soundless command, standing up straight and standing where he was still pointing. Once in front of him, he lowered his hand and began taking his time devouring her body with his eyes. His lip twitched and the room remained quiet enough to just hear their breathing. His lips then began to part, their eyes meeting briefly before he snapped out of his trance as if he was suddenly reminded of a bad memory.

“Are you going to tell me why you are being so cold?” She asked, leaning back against his desk on her hands and tilting her head to the side with a cocky expression as his eyes flickered up to hers again, “What’s the matter, Severus?”

“Must you displease me all evening and then continue to do so once back in my chamber?” Severus finally spoke, though in a flat tone.

“I’m sorry?” She asked with a confused expression.

“Do not play dumb with me, Miss Eleanor,” Severus glared, “The way you behaved tonight was insufferable,” He spat, his following words lower, “With that boy.”

“Boy?” Eleanor squinted her eyes for a few moments before realising who he meant, “Oh, you mean Noah? He’s not a boy, he’s older than me!” Eleanor protested, already aware of her and Severus’ larger age difference.

“Do not speak his name in my chamber!” Severus’ usual tone raised slightly, gritting his teeth, “That boy wouldn't know the first thing to do with you.”

Eleanor rolled her eyes from his words and hopped up onto his desk, dangling her legs over the edge as he continued to ramble;

“Flicking his eyes where they were not wanted, placing his hands where they should not have been, if I really must think back to the horrific event.” He spoke in a disgusted tone, the pale glare still on his face.

“Horrific event? Really?” Eleanor rolled her eyes but Severus’ face didn't budge so she tried to continue pushing his buttons, “Anyway, who's to say that his eyes or hands weren't wanted?”

She got him. She knew when he was almost at his limit because he wouldn't shoot his sharp tongue like usual; instead, he would say nothing while his lips twitched madly as if struggling to contain all that he wanted to say in his mouth. Eleanor narrowed her eyes and discreetly parted her legs as she shuffled a little further forward to the edge of the table and discreetly enjoyed the brief moment Severus’ eyes fell to the hem of her short dress as her legs parted.

“Hm?” She smirked, now pressing her knees together as her eyes remained on him.

“That is one of the problems that were presented to me…” He cleared his throat, swallowing hard, “I was starting to think you liked him, too.”

“Yeah?” She bit her lip and reached her foot forward, placing it on the chair Severus was sat on, against the bare part from the way his legs naturally parted when he was sat… against the part of the chair that was just beneath his crotch, “You think I've taken a liking to Noah?”

“Don't you speak his name in my chamber.” He snapped, trying with every muscle in his body not to glance down at her foot, “I will not warn you again.”

“Why, hm?” She raised her eyebrows with a devilish grin, lightly pressing the tip of her shoe against his crotch, “Are you jealous, Severus?”

His jaw clenched when he felt the strange contact against his crotch and felt like a boiling kettle when he heard her question, as if steam was about to come out of his ears. He exhaled slowly and slouched a further into his chair, making her foot ride up his crotch a little further.

“I could crush you right now.” She spoke the threat in a stupidly seductive tone, teasing her heel against his crotch and lightly nudging it to emphasise each word, “Are. You. Jealous. Severus?”

He tried his best not to let any reaction show or sound pass his lips, but it only lasted a few seconds before his lips parted and let out a soft whine, narrowing his eyebrows.

“So, that's why you've been so off with me tonight?” She asked, continuing to rock her foot against his crotch and now placing her other foot on one of his thighs to keep them parted, “Giving me the silent treatment because you were jealous of me paying attention to some other guy?”

Severus’ nostrils flared and he finally snapped, pushing her feet away and standing up as he spoke, “Listen to me,” He was towering over her now as she leaned back on her hands again, “Are you listening?” He looked down at her with a dark expression.

“Oh, I am listening…” Eleanor bit her lip sensually, gazing up at him.

“If this thing is going to work-”

“’Thing’, hm?” She scoffed until she was cut off by him pushing his face closer to hers.

“Silence while I am speaking,” He spat bluntly, “If whatever is going on between us is to continue, I need you to myself again. No ifs, no buts, I need you to all to myself.”

“Are you pleading with me, Professor Snape?” She smirked, sliding her hands up his chest and onto his shoulders, “I must be yours?” She squinted her eyes, “Despite us only fooling around?”

“Mine and only mine.” He growled, leaning down a little further as he placed his hands against the desk at either side of her.

“Or… what?” She dared to ask, able to feel his breathing against her lips now.

“Trust me… you don't want to know.” He spoke lowly and slowly, their lips only centimetres apart.

“That’s a little possessive, don't you think?” She spoke as close to his lips as possible without kissing him.

“Quite frankly, my dear,” He spoke quietly but firmly, “I don't give a fuck.”

The minute he got to the end of his sentence, their lips were pressed against each other. Eleanor whimpered from the harshness of it and Severus moved closer to his desk, grinning against her lips when her legs parted to either side of him. It wasn't long before the kiss grew deeper, Eleanor’s hands now in his hair as she kissed him urgently, desperately. Severus cupped her face in one of his large hands and tilted his head, grunting into the kiss as the tips of their tongues touched.

“Does jealousy make you horny, Severus?” She teased against his lips, giggling.

“Do not be absurd…” He mumbled, kissing her harder as if punishment for the question.

“You can't deny that someone preoccupying what's yours turns you on…” She played with his hair while they kissed in between her speaking, “Is it because you're already picturing what punishment you're going to give me, hm?”

“Jealousy does not turn me on.” Severus grunted, parting the kiss with a heavy sigh as he glared down at her.

“Oh, yeah?” She bit her lip once he pulled back, glancing between them and then back up at him, “You might want to try telling your cock that.”

“Your tongue is almost growing as sharp as mine, Miss Eleanor.” He sucked in a breath through his clenched teeth.

“At least it's not as arrogant.” Eleanor quickly fired back.

Severus’ temper raised further, his lip twitching angrily as his eyes darkened even more than their usual black. Eleanor was enjoying taunting him a little too much, and he could tell.

“So, not only did you spend the entire night with another man right under my nose,” He leaned over her once more, using one of his hands to fumble with the buttons on his pants, “And now you insist on thinking you can take that tone with me? I don't think so.”

“Mm…” She raised her eyebrows, becoming even more aroused by the way he was acting, “What are you going to do to me, professor?”

“Spread your fucking legs and I'll show you.” He responded in a gruff, demanding tone.

“Yes, sir…” Her eyes fell to his crotch again once his buttons were undone, the bulge now protruding through the opening and straining against the front of his boxers.

He dipped his head again and their lips met urgently with a bruising kiss. Eleanor’s arms snaked around his neck again and pulled at his bottom lip, enjoying the whine that came from him as a result. Her fingers darted into his hair as he rocked his hips up against the edge of his desk, rolling up onto his tip toes several times and making soft noises against her lips.

“What, is my punishment that you're going to fuck this desk instead of me?” She giggled when the desk rocked again briefly against the wall it was positioned against as a result of his hips.

“What have I told you about your fucking mouth?” He snarled, subtly enjoying the brief friction through the material of his underwear.

“Mm… so sweary…” She grinned against his lips.

“I’m going to need you to remove your underwear,” He grunted, “And actually be a good girl for me.”

“Actually…” She swallowed hard, seeing the disapproval in his face already for not immediately bowing to his command, “There’s a slight problem with that.”

“Miss Eleanor, I do not think it would be wise for you to disobey me again…” He exhaled through his nose with a glare, narrowing his suspicious eyes when he noticed her reaching for his wrists while leaning up to kiss him feverishly as he muttered against her lips, “You are becoming insufferable again…” They kissed again, her hands now guiding his to her thighs under her dress, “Intolerable…”

“The problem being...” She let go of his wrists and moved herself closer to the edge of the desk to encourage his hands to move further up her thighs, “I’m not wearing any.”

Her words left a tingle against his lips — a tingle that went directly down to his cock. He felt Eleanor smile as they kissed again, her hands now resting against his shoulders. Although he hardly doubted her for a moment, Severus’ hands still moved further under her dress just to make sure. Despite the feeling of her bare skin beneath his fingertips easing his mind, it did not ease the arousal bulging against his own underwear that was still purposefully brushing against the edge of his desk with each kiss.

“Did you remove your underwear for me or already in hopes for him?” He asked in a serious tone, pressing his fingertips into her skin and smirking when she whimpered against his lips.

“You,” She gasped when she felt his fingers move directly between her legs, kissing him hungrily, “Always for you.”

Severus swore he could hear the pulsing of his cock from her response, now pulling his hands away completely and holding her face in one hand and desperately reaching down to free himself from his underwear with the other.

“Fuck…” He mumbled to himself, now suddenly starting to feel around in the desk drawer and then his pockets as if in some desperate hope for some form of condom or alternative contraception, “I need… I just need…” He looked around frantically, frustrated with himself, “Stay right here. Don’t move a muscle.”

“Wait,” She reached out for him once he began to pull away, “Don’t go anywhere. Its fine.”

“But I don't have- I need to go get-”

“No, shh, I said it is fine,” She shook her head, pulling him closer to her again and stretching her legs out to wrap around his waist, “Honestly.”

“You don't… want me to use anything?” He asked, she shook her head so he repeated, “Anything?”

She shook her head again, glancing down at his hardened length for a moment before glancing up at him again, “I removed my underwear before I approached you when we got back because I didn't want any barriers to stop you throwing me around your chamber in a rage of jealousy, and I would quite like to stick to the theme…” She bit her lip when he stepped close to her again, his desperate, sticky precum wet length now lining up perfectly between her legs, “I’ve been learning the contraception spell, and there's only one way to know if it worked, right?” She giggled, their heavy, desire-filled eyes now meeting, “I want you to have your way with me, Severus. No barriers. Skin on skin.”

Severus’ lips parted as he struggled with a response, taking everything in him not to lose control hands-free right in that moment from her words alone.

“Show me what happens when someone touches what's yours.” She licked her lips seductively, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck.

“Too fucking right, you’re mine.” He snarled, gripping her thighs in his large hands as he thrusted his hips forward in one, swift motion. She let out a high-pitched moan and he exhaled loudly as he felt her tense around him immediately, but for the first time nothing between them, and spoke breathily into her ear, “And don't you ever ‘shush’ me again.”

Her lips parted to apologise but all that passed through them was an even louder moan. Severus was showing no mercy, already thrusting his hips at such a pace that their kisses were hard to maintain. He gripped her thighs firmly with his hands, their teeth now colliding with rough kisses.

“I love the way you claim me so selfishly…” She spoke against his lips, trying her best to grip onto him with her arms around his neck.

“I do not wish to ever see you with another man again,” He panted against her lips, “And I could not care less how selfish that sounds.”

“Mmm… fuck me like you mean it, Severus.” Her hand dived into his hair, pulling at it in time with his thrusts.

“Do not doubt my intentions…” He spoke gruffly, secretly still trying to get used to the feeling of nothing between them as his entire length continued to plunge in and out of her in fits of desperation.

He could easily lose himself in this new, much more sensitive feeling, and trying his hardest not to was not helped by Eleanor now wrapping her legs around him tightly and digging her heels into his bottom with each thrust he made. He had no choice but to break the kiss and gasp for air; his moans were continuous but he needed to at least attempt to try and catch his breath before he passed out.

“Mm… mm, fuck!” Eleanor cried out in pleasure from the sudden change of angle and speed of his hips, her legs now desperately trying to cling onto him as their bodies shuddered in delight with each thrust.

“Yes, yes, yes… agh!” Severus grunted between heavy breaths as his hips picked up an even more relentless pace.

“Y—You’re…” She reached out weakly to grab onto the buttons of his clothing but resulted in wafting the air clumsily instead as her entire body shivered from his harsh pace, her eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy as they rolled back, “F—Fucking me so good, Severus…”

“I’m fucking you like you're mine.” He growled against her lips and shook his overcoat and cloak off, now standing in his black button down shirt and his desperately unbuttoned trousers which his strong thighs had prevented from pooling to the floor.

“Yeah?” She grinned and forced her eyes open, losing her breath completely when she saw the pure rush of delight visibly flowing through Severus’ body with each and every movement he made.

“Yes,” He responded with his eyes closed and placed one of his hands flat on the wall to steady himself; the bare contact and pace of his movements were giving him so much pleasure that he feared the feeling he could pass out wash over him again, “You. Are. Mine,” He grunted in time with each harsh thrust, “And. Mine. Alone.” He could barely catch his breath at this point, “Do you hear me?”

Eleanor could not speak for moaning out his name repeatedly with the mixture of everything that was happening, so instead offered him a shaky nod. Not that Severus saw her response with his head tilted back and his eyes still closed tightly. The table squeaked upon its legs from the forceful, consistent back and forth movements and banged against the wall. Severus felt himself slipping further and further into the raw feeling of the skin-on-skin contact and tensed his jaw every time his hips thrust all the way forward. Countless profanities left his mouth as his head made several attempts to rise again, his sweaty hair now becoming a part of his sticky forehead.

“M…mine…” He grunted, his sweaty palm now slipping down the wall. He removed it so both of his hands now clamped onto her waist as her legs squeezed around him, “Mine, mine, mine,” Each word was emphasised with a harsh slam of his hips and causing Eleanor to let out a loud squeal in the process.

“Fuck, yes, Severus,” She moaned, digging her heels harder into his bottom to urge him not to stop or slow down, “Y—Yours, Sev. Yours.”

“Good girl.” He growled against her lips, her face now in his hands as they reignited their previous clumsy kisses, “Sh-Shit…” He gasped loudly against her lips as the familiar flames in the pit of his stomach began to lick their way further up his body, trying to grasp her lip between his teeth each time their lips collided, “I’m going to cum, Princess… I—I’m going to fucking c-!”

“Mm, you certainly don't fuck me like a Princess.” She grinned against his lips, giggling for a moment before realising how close he actually was to his climax when she felt him desperately bucking his hips against hers.

“A-Ah, fuck!” He hissed through clenched teeth, his hands trembling against her face as he felt himself crumbling in pleasure, “Oh, oh! I'm cu…!” His moans were even louder than ever now, his thumbs shakily caressing her cheekbones as he tried his best to hold her face in place as his orgasm exploded with each twitch of his cock, “Ah, fuck, Eleanor!” He cried out breathlessly, feeling as if he had entered another dimension with the amount of pleasure coursing through him.

Eleanor’s own climax was already on the edge, her entire body becoming jittery each time he pushed her closer to it, but the reaction Severus gave to getting off inside her with no barriers whatsoever was all she needed to hit her peak of pleasure. Her arms flung themselves around his neck and legs tightened around his waist as she became completely undone at the mercy of his bare, relentless cock.

“S-Sev-!” She struggled for breath, repeatedly contracting around him with each pulse of his thrusting length, “Severus! Fuck…” Her fingers trembled in his hair as her body continuously switched from tensing up and turning to jelly.

Severus’ moans proceeded to rattle against the walls as his eyes rolled back in pleasure, his hands now back against her thighs and shakily massaging his fingertips against her skin. Their bodies continued to convulse in pure bliss, their clothing now sticking to their bodies with sweat as their hot breath fogged up the chamber with their heavy breathing.

Even after their movements had slowed, Severus found it practically impossible to speak for a few long moments, but when he did, he just said, “Fucking hell, that was amazing…”

“I’m surprised we didn't end up next door…” Eleanor giggled breathily, placing her hands upon his heaving chest.

“One does not take the opportunity to have you completely naturally for granted.” He whispered, cupping her cheek in his hand and gazing down into her eyes as he bit his lip.

“Mm…” Eleanor grinned, kissing him softly, “I never want to be fucked in any other way again, professor.”

“Stop talking like that,” He spoke playfully sharply against her lips, “Or it’ll never go down.”

“Don’t tempt me to keep going,” She looked up at him with a wink, “You and I both know that we always tend to have the best sex when one of us has somehow pissed the other one off.”

“No comment.” Severus spoke slowly, his facial expression straining to remain straight. He knew she was right.

“Making you jealous gets you all riled up,” She squeezed his shoulders, “Making you jealous does turn you on, Severus…” She raised her eyebrows, “Why do you think I spend all night with any man who isn't you and then turn up in your chamber without any underwear on? Why do you think I enjoy making you jealous so much, hm?”

“Why do you think I let you?” Severus replied instantly in a very matter-of-fact tone.

“Because I know you’ll fuck me into next week.” Eleanor replied just as fast, biting her lip harshly to try and suppress the wide grin that was threatening to show.

“Or next door, apparently.” Severus chuckled, brushing her hair out of her face as their eyes met again.

“I think this has to be our best worst habit.” Eleanor laughed along with him.

“I happen to agree with that statement.” Severus crinkled his nose, tilting her chin up with his index finger.

“What’s that?” Eleanor gasped playfully, “We actually agree on something?”

“Watch your lip, sweetheart…” Severus’ voice lowered, his eyes narrowing.

“I bet you’d like to watch my lip… my… lips…” Eleanor dared herself to say, though she only spoke in a timid tone.

“You really are insufferable…” He shook his head, eyes still on hers, “That attitude of yours will get you into trouble, you know.”

“Admit it, Severus,” She smirked, “I’m the kind of trouble that you enjoy.”

“Ha.” He rolled his eyes sarcastically, letting go of her and starting tuck himself back into his trousers.

“Oh, no, no,” She shook her head and pursed her lips, reaching down to push his hands away from his crotch. Severus’ gaze met hers again, his lips parting from her insinuation and a heavy breath leaving them as his jaw clenched from her following words spoken with a devilish grin, “I’m not finished with you yet.”

---

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[jade-jini]

you said thoughts on gp!reader?? pls… no one writes enough of it on here, i feel like the subbiest idols in my humble opinion get written as doms sometimes. totally get the appeal but i need a little sprinkle of dom reader for us wlw switches </3

like i feel like yunjin would ride a strap like crazy idk 😵‍💫

(Oh no you’re so real because did you see that video of her at the airport with this outfit? she was moving her hips and Omg)

I just know that woman can ride you insanely good. Whether is g!p or your strap, she’s gonna move like you can really feel it lol. Yun is so into pleasuring her partner that’s why. She’s gonna make sure to give you a show when riding you. Of course it only gets better once she’s closer to her orgasm. She goes “oh my god oh my god oh my god…” while grabbing your shoulders, fucking herself on your cock fast as you helped her, grabbing her hips and impaling her on your length like she doesn’t need to ever walk again.

Yunjin switches from sobbing to giggling, when you hit the right spot inside her, her eyes rolling to the back of her head with her mouth open. “Fuck yes, right thereee…” she says in between trembling giggles and you know your girl is losing it (in the good way).

She’s so into teasing you in public, she’d be talking about something she’s genuinely passionate about (you know how Jen gets really into the subjects) with somebody and her hand would “accidentally” go too high up your thigh, brushing your member, and you have to pretend nothing happened. Of course she compensates you, taking you somewhere private and giving you a handjob while she focus on your face with that pretty Fuckin smile of hers, loving knowing she’s the one who makes you feel this good, who knows your body this good.

Babygirl is loud by nature, I’m not saying she can’t keep quiet, but what’s the fun on that? That’s why even if you tease each other, you prefer to actually keep it inside your room and when nobody else is at the dorm. Of course your friends know when you’re gonna get it ‘cause you act a little extra excited about spending alone time with your girlfriend. Running downstairs almost tripping as you say your goodbyes to the other girls.

“Good luck on your activities today, have fun guys. We love youuu” Yunjin said hugging Manchae as everybody was on their way out.

“And call us when you’re on your way home!” You reminded them, and prayed they don’t forget that ‘cause you weren’t planning on getting caught making Yunjin moan and scream and-

“Don’t worry, we will, byeee!” Sakura said, looking at you suspiciously as she took the other girls out of the dorm.

“Come here, babygirl.” You said, pushing the tall girl against the door, kissing her and getting between her legs, feeling her giggle against your lips as she started undoing your shirt. But…

“Don’t take your clothes off yet, open the door.” You heard Chaewon said from outside, and you quickly separated, letting the girl enter the place again. “Just making sure, NO fucking on the couch.” You gasped, both of you blushing as being read so easily.

“Unnie! What makes you think we’re-“ you tried acting offended but please bro that’s your friend.

“Ah-Ah! No fucking on the couch I said!”

“Yunjin unnie is getting it, isn’t she?” Eunchae asked her older sister, while they were looking at the front, waiting for their leader to come back.

“I am not having this talk with you, kid.” Sakura said, with an unbothered face.

————

A little short I know sorry- I might update it a bit eventually! Once I’m happy with it I’ll take this little note out but for now I think this is good enough to post it lol

[mountainficss]

hii oomf (its hannieehaee hii<3) i think u rlly wanna write some subby vernon blurb/oneshot 🌀🌀🌀 anyways ilu love ur writing hope u have a nice day<33

!! mentions of: sub!vernon, oral sex, marking, overstimulation

omg hi hannieehaeee!!! i love you so badddd omg i’m so sorry it took me so long!

i would looove to write sub vernonnnn 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 i honestly think vernon is so cute ughhh. honestly i’ve been thinking about taking care of vernon after he’s had a bad day. he just deserves to be taken care of he’s so precious.

he’d send you little texts throughout the day, telling you how much he misses you and how today isn’t really his day. he spilled his drink all over his clothes on his way to work, and he had sent you a picture of the huge stain on his shirt. then he had managed to lose his wallet, but thankfully someone had found it on the ground and returned it to him (with $20 stolen from it). to add insult to injury, his shift ended a bit later than usual, causing him to get home later than he would like. by the time he arrived to your apartment, he was tired and hungry and fed up, wanting nothing but to see you and forget about his unsatisfactory day.

and luckily for him, you just make everything better :) you could tell from the tone of his texts that he wasn’t himself today, and you never fail to jump into protective mode when vernon is feeling a bit vulnerable. you had just finished cooking his favorite meal by the time he arrived home, seating him down at the table and placing a plate of warm food in front of him. he’d feel so grateful, thanking you with the sweetest smile ever as he eats quietly. you’d scoot your chair close to his, running your fingers through his hair as he ate. he loves it when you play with his hair :) he finds it so soothing. after he finishes his meal, you’d clear his dishes for him and usher him to the couch, making him plop down and sitting right next to him. you’d turn on the tv as he stretched against the cushions, turning on a random movie just to help him wind down. you’d scoot closer, snaking your arms around his body to massage his tense shoulders. he’d immediately lean into your touch, letting out a relieved sigh as you release the tension from his muscles.

as the sounds from the tv lull him into a peaceful state, vernon can’t help but wonder how he got so lucky with you. you had squashed all of his gloom at the door as you dragged him inside; he swears it all evaporated the moment he laid eyes on you. on top of that, you were thoughtful enough to make his favorite meal when you knew he wasn’t having the best day. filling his stomach after a long day, especially with a warm meal made with love, always made him feel better. and now you’re sitting next to him, rubbing his aching shoulders as you hum quietly to yourself. he’d feel so loved, so cared for underneath you, and he couldn’t help but want more. you’re so good to him, and thinking about it would make him restless. he’d squirm a bit beneath you, leaning into your touch a bit more. he needed you, and he’d hope you take the hint. “feeling okay?” you’d ask gently next to his ear, your soft voice sending a chill down his spine. he’d only be able to respond with a rushed “mhm,” his eyes shut tightly as he focuses on your touch. even though he never vocalizes it, you could tell when vernon was needy. his cute clinginess is one of your favorite things about him.

vernon would feel your hands straying away from his shoulders, instead traveling down his arms languidly. the sensation of your hands exploring his body never fails to excite him, and he’d become restless under your touch. your fingers would graze the skin of his stomach as you reach around, toying with the bottom hem of his shirt. “can i take care of you, vernon?” you’d question, leaning in to press a little peck to his cheek. he’d crane his head back in an attempt to chase your lips, only nodding after receiving a kiss from you <3 you’d litter kisses down his neck and jawline, savoring the tiny sounds vernon is trying so hard to hide from you. you’d find his sweet spot immediately, sucking lightly on the skin when he whimpers louder than usual. leaving pretty marks on vernon was one of your favorite pastimes; decorating his skin like your own personal canvas is something you’d never get tired of. and he’d love it, always whimpering when he feels your lips and tongue on his flushed skin. and of course, your other favorite pastime was having vernon’s length in your mouth, feeling the weight of his erection on your tongue and tasting the saltiness of his arousal. so that’s what you’d do :)

you’d sink to your knees beneath him, nestling onto the carpet and staring up at him lovingly. he always looked so pretty, but tonight he’d look different. he looked spent, worn from an exhausting day of mishaps, yet his eyes were so full of desire. his excitement did nothing but fuel your ego, and his disheveled state made you want to take care of him even more. you’d toy with the buckle of his belt, finally undoing it and tugging his pants and boxers down in one go. his cock would smack against his stomach, a string of precum connecting to the fabric of his button up. he’d let out a small exhale as he gazes down at you, watching as you lick a teasingly slow stripe up the underside of his cock. he’d throw his head back at the feeling, a loud whimper clawing up his throat as you repeat the action. “i’ll make you feel so good,” you’d reassure him, landing a small kiss on his leaking tip. “i—i know,” he’d choke out, groaning as you completely envelop him in response. you’d swallow his length, your mouth completely full of him as you try to relax your throat. vernon wasn’t the vocal type, but tonight he must’ve been feeling extra sensitive. quiet whimpers and moans would tumble from his lips mindlessly as he throws his head back, free hand traveling to your face to settle on your hollowed cheek. you could tell he was close already, his eyes cutely rolling back into his skull before he squeezes them shut. you loved when vernon got like this, loved when he lost himself in the pleasure you give him. he’d be restless too, legs squirming slightly as you fuck him with your mouth. vernon wouldn’t be able to hold back. you were bringing him to a blissful high, and he’d be so far gone by the time he even gets a word out. “i c-can’t. gonna—” he’d splutter, only feeling your bobbing head increase the pace. your hands would grasp his inner thighs, squeezing slightly as you feel his hips buck up into your mouth. the lewd squelching sounds and your lustful gaze combined would tip him over the edge, a needy moan escaping as he spills into your mouth.

you’d keep sucking, swallowing down all of his release and helping him ride out his orgasm. he’d twitch above you, letting out a whine as he grabs your hair. wouldn’t pull you off or push you down, he’d just settle there, taking everything you’re giving him despite the overstimulation. you’d let up after a little while, not wanting the pleasure to border on pain. after releasing him with a satisfying pop, you’d gaze up at vernon with a grin. and he’d give you a blissed out smile in return, a cute little breathy laugh slipping from him. “thank you,” he’d whisper, eyes following your form as you clamber back onto the couch. “you really know how to make a bad day a good one.” you wouldn’t answer, would just go back to running your fingers through his hair as he dozes off in your arms </3

taglist: @jeonghanpill , @bangantokchy , @caratboy , @bewoyewo , @luvseungcheol , @wonvsmile , @haolovre , @aaniag , @writingbarnes , @dokyeomkyeom , @allieyaaa

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

TY FOR THE TAGS kairo and io my beloveds @dollsuguru @elusivemoon <333 i’ve been polishing the knight!sugu fic a bunch lately, so here are the first couple sentences from it!! :33

like most things, it begins and ends with a dream.

images form in the depths of your subconscious, wild and vivid, splattering on the canvas of your mind. a dream of cold metal, dark thickets, iron-scented skin — and a knight. 

(or… a wolf?)

before you is a small clearing. trees sprout from the rugged grounds, blooming proudly, clogging up the wool-coated sky; all around you lie empty, discarded suits of armor, dirty with rust and something that smells of death. wilted sunflowers stumble under their own weight, and dragonflies buzz in a frenzy, manic, driven to hysteria. in the distance you think you hear the shrieking of ravens.

and there’s a knight, just ahead, tall and imposing, covered in steel from head to toe. holding a blinding sword, facing the sky, doing nothing to stop the pitter patter of raindrops ricocheting off his burganet. you stand by the entrance of the woods, and watch him in silence. 

he looks a little lonely. 

(i think a lot of my moots have alr been tagged :’33 ??? but i’m still tagging @softgirlgonehaywire @mossmurdock bc i want an excuse to read ur writing (NO PRESSURE THOUGH PLS) & also literally anyone who feels like joining in!!!!! <33)

tyty for the tag, @emelkae!

rules: post the last seven sentences you've written, then tag seven people.

this was actually never supposed to see the light of day (didn't even make it out of my notes to a doc lmao) so no title for this

How long until he himself is slain in the name of peace across the nation and finally laid to rest in waters marred by his own blood and for once not that of others? Surely the blood should be gone by now. But he can feel it, splashing up to his shoulders. Pouring down his lungs. He is wading in it. How much blood is on his hands? Too much.

open tag ofc!! buuuut for the challenge rules i'm tagging: @perpetualcynicism, @minhxiao, @frankenjoly, @legend-of-cupcake, @thirdleaflogic, @cocrante, @airbluest

[pupyuj]

im ngl overstimulated yujin has me stuttering

combining these two asks cuz why not! anyways atp i’m looking like i genuinely believe yujin has a dick bcs i almost never write about yuj w a cooch anymore (yuj cooch enthusiasts i will deliver soon do NAWT worry) but listen … she does have a dick and i know bcs she’s constantly slamming it inside m—[STATIC]

(p.s. i think it’s way too obvious that i enjoyed this a lot pls i loooveee yujin sm don’t look at me like thatttt)

we all agree that yujin has crazy stamina and even if she’s exhausted, the feeling of being inside you is just too good that she never really pulls out after the two of you finish :(( if she could, baby would be inside you all the time really! you always wondered how much yujin could take before she’s crying and pleading for mercy… it’s about time that you’re the one who has her whimpering and getting all limp after all! 😵‍💫

binding her to a soft, comfortable chair and letting her keep at least her shirt on bcs you’re not gonna lie, your shirt looked way too good on her 😍 you’d start slow with a cute little handjob and for a while it’d look like just another friday night of good fucking for the two of you but yujin notices what you were up to when she was three orgasms deep and you still haven’t taken her dick down your throat or inside you! i’d love to think that she’d start squirming! yuj is used to being the one who does all the teasing and the cruel ‘make her cry all night by pulling eight orgasms out of her in a matter of an hour’ game—not the other way around!

baby’s never been overstimulated… a part of her would be excited, but mostly she’d be terrified bcs what if she embarrasses herself! :(( her pride wouldn’t let her go down without a fight.. she’d try to get control but you wouldn’t budge of course.. this was a once in a blue moon opportunity! you have to see yujin beg helplessly for you to stop 🥺🥺

“hm.. don’t dry out so quick, baby… you still have to fill me up, remember?” you’d whisper in her ear while tears well up in her eyes after her sixth orgasm 🫣 her legs shaking, dick twitching in your hand… i love to think about how she’d bite her lip to not be too loud but ending up failing and cutting her lip on the process oh the poor girl 💔 kissing down her neck and whispering the nastiest, most degrading things in her while you gear her up for another climax… yujin really doesn’t know if she should be turned on or humiliated but either way, one of those feelings was the one making her cum so—

ah it’d be soooo messy too?:!;!/&,& your entire hand would be drenched with her cum and every time you lick it up it only makes yujin’s dick go stiff again,, it’s impressive really! how she’s still able to keep cumming so much 😵‍💫 “good puppy, you just know what mommy wants from you, huh?” oh yujinnie would go insane 🤤🤤 you’d think she’d start resisting and acting all bratty but nooo puppy loves to get praised! sure she hated the humiliating aspect of it all (…or did she?) but one “good girl” and her brain just goes all dumb for you 🥺💕

seeing her pretty, shiny eyes all glossed up with tears once you decided to have a taste of her cum directly from the source… god you’d only have her tip in your mouth and she’d already be thrashing around and shaking her head bcs yujinnie was so sensitive at that point :(( sobbing pathetically and moaning at the pleasure at the same time.. loving how she was so obviously torn between wanting to break free of her restraints to stop you or to finish what you started and fuck you to oblivion… yujinnie will get her fun later but right now, it was time for yours 🥰

taking in all of her dick down your throat in one fell swoop and yujin’s screaming in the air with her eyes nearly rolled back 😵‍💫 ugh the sight of her dick disappearing inside your mouth flawlessy every now and again only made things worse.. she has to fuck you and breed you until she was empty :(( it wouldn’t take long for her to cum again.. but at least this time not a drop was wasted! you made sure to swallow it all, just how she liked to see it 🤭 it would be her eleventh orgasm and poor puppy would be so tired ☹️ chest heaving up and down, sobbing softly while still struggling to break free… and now you feel bad! 😔

“i know, baby.. sorry i went overboard, i know…” you’d whisper while spooning her on your bed, making up for all your meanness with your awesome aftercare 🥺 yujinnie would be so cute all cuddled up to your side, face buried in your chest where it was warm… and you’d think that she would be too tired to even keep her eyes open but nope! the second you let down your guard, yujin would be rolling on top of you and pinnjng your hands above your head, grinning down at you like the sick pervert that was 🤭🤭

“your turn. make daddy happy now.”

don’t you just love switches?? 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

[exorcqism]

im obsessed with suguru being protective over reader, especially when reader is a "you only live once" person. what would happen if reader's going to a project x typa party with gojo/shoko and them, begs suguru to go ("there will be weed" "fine ill go"), and reader ends up in a fight? what would sugu do?

I understand if you dont wanna write this lol, its just a scenario im curious about. thank you !!

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

„𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓”

𝐂𝐖;; mature content. afab!reader, stoner!geto, teen!geto, possible fighting, underage drinking, non-curse/sorcerer AU, no uses of y/n. not proofread so i apologize in advance for any mistakes if they’re made.

𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐓;; it’s the weekend and you were invited to a college party by gojo and shoko. you love going out to parties and you’ll take a risk every chance you get. a little bit of fun doesn’t hurt. but geto on the other hand….he doesn’t wanna go along and he doesn’t want you going either.

. ݁ ࣪ ، ⌗ masterlist

⌗ ˖⃗ AO3

: ̗̀➛ art creds by;; currently unknown. dividers are by @cafekitsune

: ̗̀➛ WORD COUNT;; 1.12K

dark mode recommended

do not copy this plot. i’m perfectly fine with inspirations but give creds. if this plot his stolen in any way, the post will be taken down and you will be blocked.

𝐃𝐀𝐊𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 ✉️🖇️;; IM SORRY I TOOK SO LONG TO DO THIS (they probably forgot LMAO) but i’m on it now. i’m recovering from my writers block!! i won’t make this too long. it might be a bit short (sorry 😞) hope ya enjoyyyy. reblog to support meeee and if you want more :D.

another note: rushing to write this before my psych class 😵‍💫

“no, no, absolutely not,” geto calls your name. “the last time you went to a party, you came back here drunk as hell. and guess what? i had to take care of you…not that that’s the issue. the issue is, there’s a bunch of people there that don’t care about your safety.”

you just groan loudly. geto was always like this. always analyzing the little things and the possible consequences and final outcome of the decision.

“geto, please?” you tried to plead with him. “it’ll be the last time i ask this month. i won’t ask for anything else.”

geto’s small pupils looked at you and hummed, “and who’s going? who’s gonna be there that compels you to ask me to go?”

“oh, gojo and shoko were going and i kinda already said yes…”

you notice your boyfriend’s face contort from a slightly worried expression to an shocked and irritated one. his eyebrows knitted together before he’d loudly sigh.

“you already said- i can’t believe im about to ask this…is there weed?” he queries. your excitement shot through the roof. your begging clearly got through to the ink haired male.

it was a party. a college party at that. what was an event like that without drinking and a bunch of people smoking. and probably a little fighting.

after you get confirmation from geto that you could go to the party and that he’d be attending alongside you, you quickly make your way to your room and put on something nice to wear, while geto stays in something as simple as a t-shirt and some jeans.

the wind blows gently as you two stand outside of the gate where the party was being held beyond it. you could see the flashing lights, loud music, and most importantly, the large crowds of students.

“we’re students,” you hear geto say to the security guard standing beside the gate. you both would show your ids before being let in with no trouble.

your eyes were wide with excitement as you got closer and closer to the party you’ve been dying to get to. you could feel the anticipation rising up in your chest, making you shiver a bit. geto, on the other hand, didn’t seem too thrilled. he just wanted to make sure you were safe. though, he could admit that having time outside of the house was good for him.

from a distance, you see two people heading in your direction. a male with snow white hair was trotting over to you, while a girl with short brown hair followed, simply walking.

gojo throws his arm around geto, “suguru!” he beamed at the male, “i didn’t expect you to be joining us. did she convince you?”

your boyfriend glances at you before reluctantly replying, “yes, she did. she also begged me to come…and i almost said no.”

“well i think-” shoko calls your name, “did a good job of getting you out of that apartment of yours. you don’t need to always be cramped up in that place like a hermit crab anyway.” you see gojo nodding quickly in agreement.

geto just rolls his eyes, “i’m still sober so i have time to turn around and leave if i want to.” he says. gojo waves his hand.

“oh, you don’t mean that.” he smiles, moving his circular framed glasses down to the bridge of his nose, revealing his sharp blue eyes. “let’s dance until we can’t anymore.”

with that, you see gojo dragging geto off towards the crowd of students. you and shoko exchange looks before giggling to each other and following the boys.

the party is so live you could barely stand it. each time someone tried to speak to you, you were screaming “what?” a few times because of how loud the music was.

you stuck beside each of your friends while you all enjoyed yourselves. sitting comfortably together while passing a blunt around and gojo taking shots of hennessy and laughing drunkenly as everyone else was dancing to the music.

“he’s always the first to clock out mentally,” shoko commented before taking a sip of her drink also. gojo whips his head around to her direction, his hair flying up a bit.

“i didn’t clock out.” gojo slurred, wiping the remaining liquid from his lips. “i don’t even have a job to do that.”

“he’s brain dead.” geto took a drag of his blunt.

“stop saying that. it’s mean,” gojo whined.

after a moment, taking sips and drags from the items in your hand, you whisper to geto, informing him that you were gonna go to the bathroom.

“do i need to go with you? you know, just in case?”

you almost said no because you knew how overprotective geto could be over you. he just never wanted to see you get hurt and he was definitely scared of something bad happening to you.

you finally say yes and make your way to the bathroom. when you enter, you immediately pinch your nose at the potent smell.

“it smells like shit in here.” you complain, finding a stall to go into, hoping they aren’t clogged with waste or a bunch of tissues.

you take care of your business and clean your hands. on the way out, a girl, obviously drunk bumped into you, mumbling a “watch out” as she stumbled into the stall. you were about to say something but you saw geto shaking his head.

“not worth it,” he said, grabbing your hand and leading you back to your friends. your furrowed eyebrows unknit themselves and a sigh escapes you.

when you get back to your friends, you could see gojo trying to grab another drink and shoko holding him tightly by the waist so he didn’t grab another cup.

“sit your ass down, damn it. you don’t need anything else.” the girl fussed. “don’t you think you’ve had enough for tonight?”

“six cups isn’t enough.” gojo screamed.

“you’re acting like an alcoholic. sit down.”

“you aren’t allowed to go to another party after this.” you laughed as you sat down in your chair. gojo paused and looked over in your direction.

“why notttt?” the male frowned.

“she’s right. you’re acting stupider than usual,” geto chimed in. “we should go home soon…we don’t need to stay here too long.”

“boringgggg,” gojo said loudly. “i don’t wanna go home.”

“you’re a pain in my ass. i should’ve stayed home.” suguru crossed her arms and slouched down into the chair before reaching to spark another blunt.

“you always say that,” gojo giggled. “hey, we should get food when we leave. the food here sucks and i hate the off brand soda. it’s so gross.”

“damn, do you ever stop complaining?” shoko hissed.

𝐄𝐍𝐃.

⋆｡࿇ ·࣭࣪̇˖ 𖦹°༅༚

final note: I FORGOT THE FIGHTING ASPECT HELP

© EXORSIIAN | © ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[skzooweemama]

Hello!!! Omg I've recently been obsessing over your posts 😅 I love your writing style!

If you're not too busy, could you do a thing that's like skz's reactions to finding out you're ticklish?

It's totally fine if you don't want to, take care!! 💕

yes ofccccc!! i'm so glad you like my writing!

formal apologies to all my not ticklish stays- just pretend for this one :) <33

two posts in two days? who am i? guess i’m on a writing kick lol- unfortunately i do not think this will continue (but also i don’t want it to be another month before i post again so i’m gonna do my best)

anyway- hope y’all enjoy!! this was super fun to write! still experimenting w formatting too so stay tuned 😵‍💫

~~~

Bang Chan:

channie definitely figured it out quick

literally he is always touching you

we've been over this

of course he is a gentleman

his love language may be physical touch, but he had to make sure you're okay w that first!

waits until you begin to initiate affection more often before he gets clingy

but then he's kind of all over you :)

you invited him over to your place one night, and even though he had just been working for hours, he was just too excited to see you

he was super tired though, so you took it upon yourself to set up a cute movie date so the two of you could just chill out and cuddle

at first, channie was just happily cuddled up against your side, an arm lazily slug around you waist while you petted his hair

it was cute and sleepy and perfect

until he just had to go and mess it up

chan's musicality seemed to get the best of him as he began to drum the rhythm to one of their tracks out on your waist

your very ticklish waist

there was a noble and valiant effort to stop yourself from freaking out, but alas

you let out a squeal and suddenly chan perked up, his exhaustion completely gone

safe to say you got pinned to the couch and tickled within an inch of your life

praying for you babe, he is a true monster

Lee Know:

minho wasn't really on the hunt for your tickle spots tbh

honestly, it's not something he thinks about a lot

unless it's happening right in front of him or he's feeling mischievous and he can take it out on someone in his direct vicinity (ex. our maknae on top)

his interest has to be piqued first

that's why when he figured out that you're ticklish, it was literally in the most cliche way possible

that's right- you got stuck in your shirt

it was a cute top that was way too expensive, but you had splurged a bit because you wanted something nice to wear on night outs

unfortunately, it was also incredibly tight and hard to get on and off

especially for your tipsy post-date brain... you were struggling

that's how minho found you, with your top half off, arms trapped in the fabric pulled over your head

he scoffed at you, shaking his head and tutting that you should've asked for help

just like him to be condescending at a time like this smh

but he does help you, grasping at your fabric cage and yanking upwards

and it was so helpful, except for the fact that he just barely brushed your underarms

which made you squeal and pull away from him

which made him curious

minho helped you out of the top completely before he decided to explore what made you squeal like that

after that, though, he tackled you onto the bed and found every single tickle spot you had before he even thought about letting you go

and he's a meanie too... idk if you'll survive :)

Changbin:

changbin has definitely tried to tickle you before

he just never found the spot

yk how sometimes you'll see vids of idols "tickling" their member's forearms or like shoulder?

he did shit like that, fully expecting you to laugh

safe to say you did not

so he had mostly given up, content with the fact that you aren't ticklish

however

he did start to take you on gym dates

and on one of these gym dates he discovered just how wrong he was

you decided to try to do an unassisted chin up, which you had been building up to by using resistance bands each time you tried

changbin was standing close by for moral support (and also to catch you just in case)

you made sure to remember the proper technique and pulled yourself all the way up, chin just meeting the bar

changbin cheered when you dropped down, grasping your waist and kissing your cheek proudly

you felt so victorious! but when changbin's hand just brushed against the skin of your stomach from beneath your shirt, you froze and let out a squeak of surprise

despite my earlier comments, changbin is no dummy

you can be sure that later that night he decided to see just how sensitive you really were

you'll never have a moment of peace with him now ;))))

Hyunjin:

hyunjin is a poker

for some reason, those long fingers of his are just drawn to exposed skin

changbin is a frequent target, but tbh all of the members have fallen victim to his shenanigans at some point

and ofc, there's no special treatment, even if you're dating him

you will be poked, and it will tickle

your first mistake was wearing a new shirt that had those slits going diagonally down the front of the top

you hadn't even thought anything of it when you put it on that morning

i mean, it's a shirt and you were under the assumption that your boyfriend wasn't a weirdo

(you were wrong)

that night, hyunjin decided to help you make some dinner

and by "help" i mean he stood behind you with his hands around your waist and his chin on your shoulder while you cooked, talking your ear off about whatever came to his mind

he's annoying

anyway, eventually he got bored

you were too focused on the food! how could you ignore him?!

as he stewed in his boredom, his fingers found their way to the slits in the front of your shirt and brushed up against your warm skin

and then, he delivered one firm poke

right to your bellybutton

immediately, you let out a strained giggle and tried to move away from him, but unfortunately he had you trapped between the kitchen counter and his body

before you could even devise another plan of escape, his hands slipped beneath your shirt and began to wreck your tummy, shirt slits be damned

you nearly died that night, and it was certainly not the last time something like that happened~

Han:

jisung was shy

really he was, especially at the beginning of your relationship

it took him a while to even work up the nerve to kiss you after you began dating, and even then he was kind of drunk

but somewhere around the 3 month mark, a switch flipped

he began to touch you more and he was more playful

introverts are funny like that

it stands to reason that he discovered how ticklish you were not long after

i mean, how were you supposed to respond when he asked to give you a foot massage? say no?

you tried that, but he pouted and you caved

you sort of accepted the fact that he'd find out, especially when you got out of the shower to find him on your bed with lotion and foot masks

and he looked so fcking cute too, curse you jisung >:(

safe to say he knew something was up as soon as you sat down to offer him a foot to massage

you were bright red, stuttering, and even sweating a lil bit

and when he started teasing?! telling you how cute you looked?!!?

oh no, you were done for

he couldn't even start massaging, you collapsed in giggles as soon as his fingers grazed the bottoms of your feet with lotion

your silly boyfriend started laughing at you, and the next thing you knew, your feet were headlocked beneath his arm and he was going to town on them

you screamed and thrashed, and eventually pulled a foot away and gave him a good kick

bad idea, because now he's gonna get revenge by finding out what other spots make you scream <3

Felix:

felix was totally curious

like you knew he was ticklish (you reminded him of that fact frequently), so shouldn't he know if you were too?

he thought he should

his investigation began one evening when he came over for a sleepover

you, ofc, were expecting nothing but cuddles and romantic cutesy stuff

after your last week of midterms at university, it felt more necessary than ever

felix, on the other hand, was nothing if not conniving

it wasn't his fault that you just looked so cute in your pjs

perfect to test his theories on as well

you had dragged him to the bathroom so you could do skincare together, and then made him sit through a face mask, and then you two finally went to bed

but felix still had to wait for the perfect moment

and he wasn't gonna stop you when your lips found their way to his, small kisses blossoming into a lazy make-out session

emphasis on "lazy" because honestly you could hardly keep your eyes open by the time he pulled away

he giggled and brushed your hair from your eyes, thumb tracing your kiss-swollen lips as he whispered about how pretty you were

you flushed, scolding him about being a tease before you reached to turn off your bedside table lamp

felix suddenly remembered his mission

and his time had arrived

you just barely clicked the light off before felix stuck his fingers right into your armpit, massaging deep circles into your flesh

you positively squealed, unable to stop yourself from falling into witch-like cackles

felix's investigation was a success, and you can bet he'd use these findings again and again

Seungmin:

seungmin tickles you to get what he wants

or at least, he does after he finds out about your weakness

and it doesn't take long really

technically, the two of you weren't even official yet when he makes the discovery

the night before, one thing kind of led to another during an after-party, and the next thing you knew, you woke up in the same bed

wearing very little

anywayyyy

seungmin was the first to wake up in the morning with a raging headache

no lie, he felt like he had been run over by 20 tour buses

somehow, when he saw you, cuddled into his chest snoozing peacefully, he felt less gross

it was probably because he was in love with you, but he wasn't really ready to admit that to himself yet

and he did really have to pee, and he could not do that with you koalabeared onto him

no time to think about emotions or anything

at first, he tried to shake you awake, which proved to be futile

next, he tried prying your arms off from around his waist, but your grip was like iron

finallly, he tried poking and prodding you because he didn't have any other ideas

almost immediately you began to squirm away, trying to fight off the tickles in your sleepy state

eventually (partly because you were too cute gently giggling and partly because now he really needed to pee) he finally dug into your sides and really gave you a good wake up call

you woke up laughing loudly from the tickles, and when your vision cleared, you saw a blushing seungmin making his way to the bathroom

I.N:

Jeongin tickles you when you annoy him

which you do a lot

it's like you were built to push all of his buttons istg

the first time he ever found out you were ticklish, you were making fun of him

it was a personal favorite pastime of yours

(definitely not because you thought jeongin was hot when he was frustrated, no ofc not)

today had just not been a good day for him in the slightest

his voice was a bit hoarse so he couldn’t record, he kept missing steps in their dance practice, and to top it all off he was breaking out from the stress of a new comeback

so really, why were you adding gas to that fire?

usually you only bugged him because you wanted to get his mind off of whatever was bothering him

your teasing was light hearted, and you never had bad intentions

but when you wouldn’t stop asking for kisses, started whining at him after he said he didn’t wanna give you kisses, and then sat yourself right on top of him and refused to move… that’s when he got fed up

and yet you kept it up

jeongin decided he needed to do something drastic

and of course he’d never hurt you and he wasn’t truly mad, but he did need to teach you a lesson

so… he set his hands on your hips, looking up at you from where you were seated on his lap, facing him

and he asked if you would move

when you said “no” once again, he squeezed your hips like his life depended on it

you shrieked and fell to the side, trying to squirm away from his evil hands as they tickled you mercilessly

as jeongin pinned you down and made you laugh until you couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t help but think about how you deserved this

whatever, it was fun so you just decided to be even more annoying in the future :)

[torturedfujoshidepartment]

CAN YOU PRETTY PLEASE WRITE BUTCH PETE RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS IM BEGGING

Butch! Pete dating hcs

(epilogue!)

nah cuz when I got this ask I started doing front flips, side flips, AND BACK FLIPSSS

ヽ(；▽；)ノ

Cw: blood/cutting/knife play

Rating: suggestive



🩸she basically the same

🩸 goes by she/him

🩸but way cooler heheh

🩸very butch4fem

🩸calls you a bunch of pet names

🩸like babydoll, dollface, hon😵‍💫

🩸”need a hand there, doll?”

🩸likes being called “your butch”

🩸PLEASEEE call her your butch

🩸will have you sit on her lap (in public too)

🩸if you’re taller than her she won’t admit out loud that she likes it

🩸oh brother, but if you’re shorter than her

🩸good luck living that down 😭

🩸grabbing your sides, hips, and waist ohhmygodddfhhjnn

🩸she’ll manhandle you…

🤍”peteee stoppp…”

🩸 "Whatcha gonna do about it, sweetheart?"

🩸and you go all quiet and look away from her. She’s enjoying making you all flustered

🩸 "You know, I don't mind a little backtalk. It's actually kinda adorable."

🩸you talk about how much you like her accent she will use that to her advantage if she wants something from you

🩸getting all close to you and whispering in your ear

🩸just cuz she’s a girl doesn’t mean she’s any better than a man😒

🩸you’ll catch her checking you out from time to time

🤍” do you need something Pete?”

🩸”turn around for me again…”

🤍”pete.”

🩸if you take her shopping she’ll begrudgingly agreed to join you

🩸and if it’s clothes shopping she instantly perks up because that means she gets to watch you try on clothes 😭

🩸thinks you’d look good in leather or latex

🩸covered in blood…

🩸 after some convincing on her end she’ll set up her digital camera and have you do a little photo shoot for her

🤍”this top barley covers anything! Pete you…”

🩸”You what? C'mon, use your words."

🩸will mark you up with her switchblade

🩸cutting her name into your thigh

🩸sooo many bite marks

🩸 "You're such a filthy little thing... Getting all excited with a blade on your throat."

🩸"Damn, babydoll, you look good like this. All spread out and helpless for me."

okay I need to stop cuz I’m getting light headed 😵‍💫

[thebellearchives]

I love your writing, so I'm super excited that you have requests open!

Would you be able to do something with Solomon for number 30. "We live together. You can't blame this on anyone else." ? I immediately thought it would work well for the shenanigans that may happen with him and MC getting used to living together at Cocytus Hall. Feel free to get creative with it!

If you don't like this idea, feel free to ignore. I'm looking forward to seeing all the other prompts you end up writing! 💜

𝐍𝐎 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐄

~ solomon ; obey me [nightbringer]

✧˚ · . S Y N O P S I S : While you spent the night at the House of Lamentation it seems like something happened in Cocytus Hall’s kitchen…

‧₊˚ c o n t e n t s : gn!reader, stablished relationship, fluff, no nightbringer spoilers

‧₊˚ a / n : ah yes, the Solomon coded prompts ~ i’m not sure if they’re all Solomon coded or it’s just us relating every situation to him 😵‍💫 thanks for reading love, hope you like it (: ~

prompt list

It had been a long night at The House of Lamentation. You had really wanted to go back home last night, but when the brothers asked you so eagerly to stay the night you just couldn’t say no. So you had texted Solomon.

“Sol I don’t think i’m gonna be able to go back home until tomorrow evening. Get some takeout! Make sure it lasts for tomorrow’s lunch too.”

“Sure thing, don’t worry about me. Enjoy the sleepover!”

And since Solomon had agreed to buy food for himself you didn’t expect him to enter the kitchen at all. When you got back to Cocytus Hall you went straight to your bed room. Tossed your clothes into the laundry basket, had a shower and put on some fresh and clean clothes before finally deciding to head down to make dinner. But as soon as you stepped in the kitchen you froze. You could tell it had been cleaned thoroughly, as if someone had tried to cover up a mess, but that wasn’t what your eyes had found themselves glued to. There was something that cleaning just couldn’t hide: the burnt toaster in the middle of the counter.

Still in shock, you walked closer to inspect the terrible state in which your poor toaster had been abandoned. More than burnt it had been melt down. How do you even melt a toaster?! What could’ve Solomon ever put inside it for it to end up like that? A shiver ran down your spine. To be honest, you probably didn’t even want to know. The sound of the front door opening made you sigh, so you turned around and headed to the kitchen’s entrance. There at the other end of the hallway Solomon closed the door, he looked restless, but he froze the moment he saw you. You crossed your arms.

“MC, you’re back! You’re early.” he smiled fondly, but his nervous voice gave away his real feelings. You noticed he hid something behind his cape.

“I’m not. It’s evening already, I told you I’d come back in the evening”

“Right” he cleared his throat nervously “well, why don’t you go ahead and take a shower, now that you’re back home?”

“I already did that” an awkward silence filled the hallway, so you bit your lip to stop your laughter from ruining your stern act “would you mind explaining what happened to the toaster?”

“What happened to the toaster?” he raised his brows, faking surprise and concern.

“It’s… quite literally molten.” you quirked an eyebrow.

“Oh… well, it wasn’t me.” Solomon walked up to one one of the side tables to drop his keys.

“Who was it then?”

“Uhm…” he leaned in to the staircase, his grey eyes wandering across the ceiling to try and come up with something “… well, maybe…”

“Sol, we live together. You can’t blame this on anyone else.” a snort escaped your mouth, the sound making Solomon relax a little bit, his eyes driving back to yours.

“Are you sure you didn’t do it?” a playful smile appeared of his lips.

“Solomooon?!” his name left your lips as you exhaled in disbelief, you walked up to him “are you trying to gaslight me?!”

“What? No, no, absolutely not!” his amused silver irises towering over you now that you were closer to him “I’m just saying, sometimes when humans travel between timelines they get this crazy symptoms, like doing stuff and not remembering.”

You stared at him trying not to laugh.

“Really.”

“Yes really, there are documented cases! It has a name and everything. Uh… Flickering time amnesia, I believe.”

“Are you saying that I have flickering time amnesia and forgot I burnt the toaster? Or are you saying you have it and burnt the toaster but you don’t remember?”

“Oh” he leaned in closer to you in search of your lips, whispering “you’re right, maybe I did do it.”

“I know you did it.” you placed a hand on his chest, stopping him from coming any closer “And what’s with the bag?”

Solomon blinked in confusion.

“The bag?”

“The bag you’re hiding behind your cloak”

The sorcerer remained frozen for a second, before finally sighing and showing you the white bag he had brought. You peeked into it to find a brand new toaster, it was exactly the same brand and model as the old one. This time you ended up laughing out loud.

“You were going to replace it hoping I wouldn’t find out?”

Solomon’s face turned red in embarrassment, he didn’t dare to make eye contact with you.

“Maybe…”

“You’re the worst” with a giggle, you grabbed his shirt to bring him close for a kiss.

Solomon sighed in relief again, soft lips sliding on top of yours. He smiled into the kiss, one of those mischievous smiles of his, probably thinking about how he had managed to escape from the situation unscathed and even earned a kiss from you.

“You know what, time traveler?”

“Hmm?”

“Starting today you’re banned from the kitchen.”

[devilfic]

Idk if you're request are open rn or anything and you can completely ignore this if not, but I've had a thought about Miguel o'hara and aftercare. Like I imagine him being brutal in bed but afterwards he'd be the absolute softest. Rubbing your thighs and playing with your hair🤭🤭 him calling you sweet nicknames in Spanish while holding you close and you falling asleep on his chest😵‍💫😵‍💫 sign me up!!

Anyways I hope you have a good day/night and I love your writing

cw: 18+ mdni, implied sex, I call him a dad twice

they are not open But I will indulge you a little!!

like, he’s so tempted to just fall asleep with you (still inside you, even). you’re so warm underneath him. he probably keeps his face tucked in your neck and just runs his hands up and down your sides, slips a hand into your hair and scratches your scalp (he’s careful to put the talons away) and you’re so close to falling asleep yourself. he hums in the way you do when you know you need to get up but sleep is just calling your name. he starts singing even, voice so exhausted that it cracks a little in a cute way, like he’s trying to sing you both to sleep. he even dozes off a few times and jolts right back awake whenever he feels you shift underneath him.

he motivates himself to get up by pressing kisses down your body: your hair, your forehead, your eyelids, your nose, your lips two or three times, your chin and neck, down the valley of your chest and over your bellybutton until he’s leaned back so far he has to climb off the bed and get to cleaning you up.

he’d probably help you into the shower or, if you’re both really that exhausted, he’d come wipe you down and smile every time he catches your eye, kissing after where he cleaned you (and it’s bad if he starts nipping at you, because that’s just a guarantee for another round). he’d tuck you in the sheets and put on his Dad™️ reading glasses (and nothing else) to go make you some tea or coffee.

he’d crawl back into bed with you and take out a book as you lean on his shoulder and ask him to read aloud. it’s some true crime novel that he couldn’t put down for the life of him. he likes to read it to you because all the twists and turns get him so excited to talk your ear off about it for hours, so eventually you’d just asked him to read it to you. he reads just a little bit longer after he realizes you’ve fallen asleep under his arm, and then he sets the book on his chest, leans his head back into the pillows right up against your hair, and falls asleep with you just like that.

(I’m picturing him with his head thrown back, glasses askew, snoring in true dad fashion. you can’t even be upset because he looks so cute ;-;;)