#littlesun

[evilreflections]

The ground is shaking underneath me...

[heropaws]

Commission i did for a good buddy of mine, @lumosnight , of their sona!!!! u ever see a kitty so shaped? Commission Me! 🌈 Join My Discord!

[lateraniansweets]

Night Train

next ->

ao3 || little sun m.list

warnings: semi-graphic description of corpses

notes: shinkansen = bullet trains. train routes and railway companies don't refer to shinkansen as bullet trains so i decided to refer to them as shinkansen.

Only one person in the jujutsu world knew of Wataru’s existence. His name was Nishitani Yū, grade 1 sorcerer and more importantly, Wataru's godfather. 

He died a week ago at age forty-seven leaving behind a grieving wife and two daughters. He died not because of a curse—surprisingly enough, but because of a sudden heart attack while out grocery shopping.

You missed out on both the wake and funeral, having only been made aware of his death yesterday. It’s likely that you wouldn’t have even known he died had it not been for his wife going through his work phone. Though, even if you had known you wouldn’t have attended either. 

Wataru’s eerily silent as he stares at the Nishitani family grave. “Mom,” he looks up at you, tiredly rubbing his eyes, “can we go back now?”

“Have you said goodbye to Gramps yet?”

His eyes widen and turns to the gravestone, “Bye gramps,” he bows, then turns to you, “Can we go home now?”

“Mhm,” you nod, wiping away the sweat from his forehead and running a hand through his feathery soft hair. Gently, you pinch his cheek and ask with a teasing smile on your face: “Want me to carry you-” 

“Mom!” he shakes his head, nose scrunching up as he insists that he’s too old for that now. Still, he doesn’t struggle when you pick him up despite his complaints. Wordlessly, Wataru adjusts himself in your hold, looping his arms and legs around you like a koala. You press a kiss on his crown, giggling as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. 

Pulling over the hood of his jacket you turn to the grave.

“Thank you, Nishitani-san.” 

Thank you for saving me back then.

Thank you for looking out for me all these years.

Thank you for keeping Wataru a secret.

With that, you and Wataru leave the cemetery and begin your long trek home.

By train, the trip from Tokyo to Hamada takes around eight or nine hours, the round trip would take at least, fifteen to sixteen hours if you didn’t make stopovers to eat or rest. The overnight route was even longer, with seven stops and sixteen hours of travel time but it was safer than staying overnight.

Curses in Tokyo are far stronger than those back in Hamada, running into a 2nd grade would be a death sentence and curses aren’t even the only threat. Curse users and sorcerers come to mind, with Sa–Gojo Satoru around they’ve become less of a threat over the years but they’re still a threat nonetheless. Coming to Tokyo entailed too many risks and too many unknowns. It’s one of the reasons why you didn’t want to come to pay your respects anyway, the other reason being – no. Don’t think about it. Out of sight out of mind. Breathe. Breathe. —still, you made the trip because Wataru deserved to say goodbye to his Grandpa Yū. 

7:39 PM.

The train arrives and you board the train, still carrying a sleeping Wataru. The trip and the overstimulation from being in such a busy city had exhausted your boy. 

After setting him down, and zipping up his jacket you breathe , releasing the breath you’d been holding for the past four or so hours. The air conditioning in the rail car dries the sweat on your back, leaving behind a chill. You slump down on your seat, exhaustion sinking into your bones as you take out your phone to look at the time.

7:41 PM.

An automated voice comes over the  PA system announcing that the train will be leaving the station.

You glance at Wataru curled up in his seat and take off your coat to drape over his sleeping form. “Goodnight, beautiful boy.” You press a kiss on his forehead, falling asleep soon after you do so.

-------------------------------

Satoru likes to think that he holds a valid semi-unbiased opinion of the Kyoto school as an institution of jujutsu. Sure, he disliked the school’s insistence on keeping things traditional —which is kinda expected considering the near-iron grip the higher-ups had on that place, he has some semblance of faith in the sister school’s competency in exorcising curses. After all, Kyoto Jujutsu High was one of only two jujutsu schools in Japan and a cornerstone of jujutsu society as a whole.

So how?

How did they let this happen?

He’d read and reread the incident report—God! They took the time to write an incident report!—again and again just wondering how ?

How did they fuck up this bad?

Satoru huffs, rereading the piece of paper for the nth time.

At 8:32 PM three second-year students from Kyoto Metropolitan Curse Technical College (God, the official name’s such a handful.) along with their managerial chauffeur to Taikawa East Park to exorcise a group of curses, estimated to all be around Grade 2 and lower.

9:01 PM. The group arrived at the park and prepared to cast a veil but were attacked before being able to do so.

9:13 PM.  Two of the three students and their chauffeur were killed by a Grade 1 curse unincluded in the intel provided to the group. The third student buys time for backup.

9:47 PM. Backup arrives however the curse had already gotten away just seconds ago by clinging onto a passing shinkansen . 

Casualti–He crumples up the report and tosses it to the side, he didn’t need to read that part to know that that part of the report would be sugarcoated. 

They did the same thing years ago with the incident involving Haibara Yu.

Kiyotaka Ijichi glances at him from the rearview mirror, brows furrowed in worry before returning his eyes to the road. Satoru couldn’t really tell if it was because of the current situation or just his usual face. 

The car comes to a sudden halt, and Ijichi turns to him. “We’re here.” He says and Satoru nods, opening the car door and typing a quick text to his students’ group chat.

The Best Teacher: Mission’s almost done! Will be getting some Kyo Baum after! o( >  ᗜ  < )o ₊˚⊹♡                                                                          Sent: 22:55 

Kyoto Station is uncharacteristically empty save for the occasional sorcerer because of the veil covering the entire station. They managed to get the train stopped with—the completely bullshitted, excuse of a gas leak.

A sorcerer whose name he doesn’t bother to remember brings him up to date with the situation. Satoru read it all in the report so he just tunes her out but he doesn’t miss the light implication that it was the students’ fault in her words. He’ll stay silent on that part and let Utahime handle the higher-ups involved aftermath of her students’ failed mission.

The train sits idly by the platform cursed energy oozing out of it. 

“Most of the civilians are accounted for,” The sorcerer states, gesturing to the passed-out civilians scattered along the platform.

“Most?”

She clicks her tongue, “There was a stampede inside the train, we can’t clear out the cars with the bodies in the way, and we can’t exorcise the curse because of said bodies either. Whoever’s still unaccounted for is likely dead. ” From the corner of his eyes, he could see a few sorcerers grouped together with their cursed tools and shinigami at the ready. 

He sends them a glare, hidden by the bandages covering his eyes and silently, curses the higher-ups for dragging him into this mess because ‘he was in the area’. This little siege between the curse and these sorcerers is a waste of time and resources. This could’ve all been over at that park had backup arrived faster.

Maybe he should use this incident as teaching material, record some videos, and pair them up with the final mission report. How not to perform an exorcism, how to defeat a curse with civilians involved and all that fun stuff. At the end of the lesson, he’ll give a quiz. 

Yeah, a quiz would be good, he hasn’t given out one of those in a while.

“How long have you guys been here?”

“About an hour.” Seriously?

Judging from the cursed energy on the train, they’ve cleared less than half of the cars, it’s gonna take them all night at this rate. Do these people love overtime or something?

"I see," Satoru hums, holding himself back from laughing at their faces—he didn’t want his meeting with the higher-ups (which was supposed to be taking place right now) to have another lecture and take longer than it needed to be.

He looks at the time displayed on one of the LED screens in the platform.

It’s getting late, and Satoru wants to go back to his hotel and take a nap. He should get this mess over with. They’ve cleared out less than half the cars already so this shouldn’t take long for him anyways.

I guess, I’ll just get Kyo Baum tomorrow.

Wordlessly, he warps himself into the train and gets to work. 

Despite sorcerer-who's-name-he-didn't-bother-to-learn's child blaming passive-aggressive yapping she was at least telling the truth about the bodies. 

Corpses, some of their limbs twisted unnaturally and their articles of clothing were littered all over the cars he went through. However, thanks to his infinity he was spared from the strenuous, time-consuming and slightly disturbing task of getting the bodies out of the way.

He’s made his way to the fifth car facing little to no resistance on his way. It was a little odd but he’s seen enough to know that the curse is a) trying to run away after sensing his cursed energy or b) it’s with the unaccounted passengers sucking the life out of them or c) both!

Guess he’ll know once he opens this door. 

This would be car number…four? Three? He’s lost count already. 

Damn, that kinda matters.

The curse’s cursed energy’s so damn potent here. It’s disgusting, putrid and…there’s something else, something different. It’s…familiar, eerily so but he can’t put his finger on why exactly.

“Plea–” A shriek and a crash, the train shakes and Satoru’s brought back to the present.

“Please!” A voice cries out, it’s of a young boy’s. “Help!” Satoru’s grip on the sliding door’s handle tightens, knuckles turning white as he braces himself to enter. 

The curse roars.

Thud!

“Mister, please! ” The boy sobs, “I-I know you’re there Mister!” Satoru freezes, what do you mean by that?

 “Please! M-my mom! S-she’s—” he chokes out a sob.

Satoru takes a sharp breath and slams the door open. The curse roars at him, the intruder and lunges at him to attack but…

“Red.”

…it’s blown away before it could. 

The curse is instantly vaporized upon Red’s impact.

There’s a moment of silence as the boy stares at him wide-eyed, simultaneously afraid and amazed.

“Thank..” the boy heaves as he shakily gets on his feet. “...you��” 

The boy looked to be around five or six years old but what truly caught Satoru’s (six) eyes was the kid’s cursed energy. He has a lot like a lot, lot and it’s in disarray, free flowing and… familiar.

“...mister.” The boy finishes and looks up at him, the hood of his jacket falling to reveal white feathery close-cropped hair and—

Satoru freezes, eyes widening like he’s been hit with the full force of his domain expansion.

His eyes. 

That kid’s eyes.

He forces himself to breathe, to keep his shit together as a pair of the legendary six eyes, a pair that shouldn’t exist stares through at him.

“Mister…?”

“Who…” he choked out, blue meeting blue, “who are you?”

unrelated notes: hhhhhhhhhhhh exploding gege and myself with my mind im so tired. drowning in schoolwork but ill try to get the second chapter started and maybe halfway it by next week hhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

[bbina]

decided i’m js resigning from riize, i NEED to see your chenle posts whenever i open this dreaded app.but real shit, this whole thing just BOMBED my interest in riize man. keeping my title as sohee anon tho, too iconic..

- 💂

yeah ive been wanting to write more about nct actually! but my main audience here r riize stans (not sure if they could even be called stans anymore after today) so guess i gotta build that nctzen audience (with u being first in line duh!) keep the name tho!! thats how i know u as LMFAO

[rigell47000chitchat]

From chenle to lilsuns

[euseokz]

@ wonbin — every second i spend with you is the best one yet, why wouldn’t i want to spend all of them with you ? . cws : body worship . overstimulation . unprotected sex . creampie . genre : smut, fluff . wc : 0.7k+

a/n : ads ( @littlesuns ) !! as promised here i come to deliver, whiny and clingy wonbin (with whiny reader too hehe) 🫶🏻

BOYFRIEND! WONBIN who just can’t let go of you, always wanting to be with you at all times.

he’s clingy, for lack of a better choice of words. he wants to always be by your side, to always be with you, smiling the brightest when all your attention is on him and getting to the point of pouting and whining when it’s elsewhere. he isn’t toxic, he understands you also need your space, but when you’re together he wants you both to be as present as possible, to cherish the moment as much as you can, every extra second he spends with his favorite girl better than the previous one in his eyes.

wonbin will always smile so wide when you meet up and he can see you walking towards him, giving you a fleeting peck on the lips and immediately moving to hold your hand, beginning to walk to whatever your destination is while starting up a conversation. he isn’t too into extreme with pda, but he’ll never lose the chance to hold your hand or share a quick kiss or even have his arm laced over your shoulders or around your waist — he still wants to be touching you at all times, to have you close to him, just without being too obnoxious over it.

wonbin reaches his peak of clinginess, however, when he was you laying on his bed, looking ever so pretty, and all for his eyes only. he’ll kiss every piece of your exposed skin, tell you how beautiful you are, how much he loves you. he’ll touch you gently, taking his time in appreciating your body, wanting you to feel as gorgeous as he thinks you are, always needing to pretty much worship you before even thinking of actually fucking you. he’ll say quick praises against your skin, none of them louder than a whisper, professing his love for you, how much he appreciates you, telling you how gorgeous and irresistible you are, how grateful he is you let him have you like this. he’ll end it all with a kiss, a soft but intense one, both your lips almost quivering with arousal while your gazes fill with lust, desperate for one another.

you’d reach over to cup wonbin’s cheeks, forehead pressed together intimately as he starts to push his cock into you, both of you so whiny by then, letting out small whimpers when he bottoms out, completely filling you up to the brim, as if he was made for your pussy only — or at least that’s how wonbin sees it. he’ll start thrusting in and out slowly, almost lazily, moving to peck your neck, moaning against you, his dick twitching inside you and his hips faltering any time you moan a little louder for him, any time you act more desperately, when you need more of him, wanting to drown yourself in him just as much as he wants to drown himself in you. wonbin always complies with your needs, moving faster, rougher, whatever you want, fucking you until his cum is spilling into you and then continuing, his thumb drawing small circles over your clit as he overstimulates himself, face hidden in the crook of your neck as he whines for you, mumbling about how good you feel, how well your pussy sucks him in, how much he needs you. even when you cum he doesn’t stop, eventually overstimulating the both of you to the point of tears, both your eyes spilling salty droplets as you look into each other, whimpering out small “i love you”’s, the moment so intimate it’s almost as if only you two exist in the whole world.

when wonbin stops, his cock already aching and your cunt already swollen, he sniffles, looking between you, at the mess you’ve made, and smiling, telling you how pretty you look like that, all fucked out because of him, a wide smile stretching his lips and his eyes glistening, as if he’s truly proud of himself. you’d end up just whining, turning just as clingy as him, wanting him to envelop you in a tight hug — which he obviously does, staying with you for as long as you want before getting up to prepare a bath for both of you, the night ending with you two laying inside your tub filled with warm, bubbly water, talking to each other softly, wanting to keep the calm and loving atmosphere that filled the air for as long as possible.

[briarbelly]

Some art of my partner’s (and my) sona!

Littlesun belongs to @lumosnight and Whitemarsh is mine!

[americanahighways]

REVIEW: Charlie Parr "Little Sun"

REVIEW: Charlie Parr "Little Sun" @charlie.parr @americanahighways #littlesun #americanamusic #folkmusic #americanahighways

Charlie Parr – Little Sun Little Sun is the eighteenth album from prolific Minnesota based singer-songwriter and guitarist, Charlie Parr. The album is available March 22nd on Smithsonian Folkways. It is notable that this was Parr’s first album to not be recorded entirely live. Little Sun was produced by close friend and collaborator, Tucker Martine (Sufjan Stevens, The Decemberists, My Morning…

[dolloie]

haiiii this is my first ask

-littlesuns

HI HELLO OMG I LOVE YOUR WRITINGS SM!! (๑ > ᴗ < ๑)

[acidwon]

my littlesun heart...... this is heaven

masterlist + all about me (and nct dream)

hi everyone! name change/rebrand alert ;)

prev @/lowkeyjaemle, now @/lowkeychenle :D

i'm juls (as some of you already know) and my ult group is NCT Dream! i'm chenle biased (this will never change lol) and the majority of my blog is also chenle biased lol.

i do not have a bias wrecker. chenle is safe (although jisung is my #2, which just makes sense bc chenji is a package deal okay).

i'm 22 (almost 23!) years old, and my pronouns are she/her. now that all this intro/boring stuff is out of the way, please keep reading for my updated masterlist ;)

p.s. if u are also a chenle stan, there are so many chenle fics here just for u

AY YO! MDNI >:(

text!au masterlist | smau masterlist

So, this'll be a little different. These fics will be in order of my personal faves, so if you want a rec on where to start, try right at the top ;)

And Then It Was (M)

After your marriage with Chenle was arranged by your parents for a company merger, things with him aren't quite like you expect. In your life full of obligations, he's determined to finally give you the ability to make your own choices. (smut/fluff/angst) *WC>10k

Cruel Summer (M)

He wants you. Everything to do with you--your heart, your body, all while keeping your friendship. What's a man to do during a 30-day hook up to get you to stay? (smut/fluff/angst) *WC>10k

See My Sea (M)

You never expected your lab partner to be the captain of the basketball team...or a decent human being, but you get proved wrong twice. Despite a rocky past of your own, you find yourself falling for him faster than you thought. Maybe, with his help, you can finally find your way home and see your sea. (smut/fluff/angst) *WC>10k

Like We Just Met (M)

Everything else about the day is completely normal when Chenle realizes he wants to marry you. It hits him like a tidal wave, and he's itching to tell you just how much he wants to love you forever. (smut/fluff) *WC>10k

SOS (M)

Road trips with Chenle are your favorite thing. Late at night, the two of you stop at a hotel, but it's not everything it seems to be. You barely have time to settle before you get a call to evacuate immediately. Beneath red neon flashing lights, you and Chenle have to try and escape the group of people hunting you down. (suspense/thriller/smut)

this is me trying (M)

Meeting Chenle was a fluke--a good one, at that, but you never expected things to escalate the way they did. But despite the whirlwind romance, you'd go back to December if you had the chance... (smut/fluff/angst) *WC>10k

Is It Over Now? (M) (Feat. Jisung)

Your relationship with Chenle is nothing but fight after fight. Amidst the toxicity, infidelity comes into play--except you're determined to one up him...but is it ever truly over? (angst/smut) *WC>10k

Within the Piano Keys (M)

For as long as you could remember, Chenle has been your neighbor and childhood best friend. That is, until one day he disappears without a word…or so you thought, since your mother hid all the letters he sent you. (smut/fluff/angst) *WC>10k

Paris (M)

Pure smut on a hotel room balcony in Paris! Woo. (smut)

Sunshine (M)

You're not usually able to wake up with Chenle due to his schedules, but on the days that you can, it's certainly worth it. (smut/fluff)

Quiet Down (M)

You and Chenle visit your parents, but he just can't help himself... (smut)

You're Not Sorry

You and Chenle broke up two weeks ago. The first time he calls you at 3am, you ignore it. Then he calls again. You answer, and you go to him knowing there's nothing he could do to fix what he's broken. (angst)

The Last Straw (M)

Chenle has been your best friend for as long as you can remember. Being in love with him isn't easy, until you find out he reciprocates those feelings (thanks to Cockblocker!Jaemin). (smut/fluff/angst)

Chilled Nights, Fogged Windows (M)

After being gone for weeks, the first thing Chenle wants to do is get ice cream with you. One thing leads to another, and suddenly, you're in the backseat (oooops). (smut)

In Your Dreams (M)

What started as innocent phone sex hotline stuff (if that can ever really be innocent?), you get an offer you just can't refuse...you just have to be a little sleep deprived ;) (Chenle as Freddy Kruger Halloween thing lol)

Irrevocably (M) Series Masterlist

You were friends with benefits with Chenle until he got a girlfriend...fast forward months later, and now they've broken up--leaving Chenle to come back to you, very much in need of a distraction. (angst/smut/fluff)

Opposites Attract [Poly!Jaemle AU] Series Masterlist

Your relationship with Jaemin started out simple--friends with benefits with zero complications...until there was one. That complication's name is Zhong Chenle, and after Jaemin agrees to expand your exclusivity deal to involve him, there's only one logical thing left to do... (smut)

모래성 (ONE) (TWO) (THREE)

You and Mark have had a friends with benefits relationship for almost a year now. He's in love with you, addicted to you, but you don't feel the same. You're his poison. (smut/angst)

Late Nights (M)

Mark's busy schedule only gives him time to come over late at night, but it's safe to say neither of you are complaining by the time you fall asleep. (fluff/smut)

Empire State of Mind (M) (Feat. Jisung)

Life with Jisung is almost perfect. He loves you, and you love him. But when you run into your ex, Mark Lee, you realize the one thing you've been missing all along is him. (smut/angst)

Lost & Wayward Mini-Masterlist

After the worst couple weeks of your life, you finally break down in the middle of an alleyway. Jaemin hears you and comes to comfort you, and little do you know, he's about to change your life--in more ways than one. (fluff/smut/angst)

[alolatruther]

i louve my,.,., silly little family.,,,,and they love me i think. beach days r fun

[havocpioneer]

#ffxiv #ffxivonline #illustration #fanart #ffxivfanart #stormblood #endwalker #ff14 #magnai #oronir #littlesun #xaela https://www.instagram.com/p/CYmSy6aFoqo/?utm_medium=tumblr

[namiargentum]

New original ff14 meme by me! Magnai, little sun xD

[lateraniansweets]

02 || Blue Hour

<- prev || next ->

ao3 || little sun m.list

warnings: non-graphic descriptions of injuries, blood,

notes: reader forces herself to call satoru 'gojo' as a way to distance herself from him but she tends to slip up.

“What’s this?”  You ask, wiping the sweat off your brow,

“His phone number.” 

"I don’t need it." 

Nishitani sighs and pulls up a seat next to you, "I know that you don’t want anything to do with jujutsu anymore but…" his eyes flicker to the crib where Wataru slept and then to you, “____, he deserves to know.”

You purse your lips, observing every crease on the piece of paper instead of the ten digits written on it. Nishitani’s right, he of all people deserves to know. You should tell him, you should but you’re a coward, a coward who ran away, a coward who left one of the few people who cared for her to die.

A quick prick of pain on the inside of your palm.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

You open your palm, crimson crescent-shaped wounds greeting you. Nishitani places a gentle hand on your shoulder. “____…” he trails off, an exhausted look in his eyes as he runs a hand through his salt and pepper hair. 

In the years you’ve known the man he never looked like this, shoulders sagging, the weariness that came with age evident in his stature. He taps the crumpled piece of paper, “You should at least keep this around.”

You did keep that number, had it saved in your contacts and never bothered to put it under any sort of contact name because you just couldn't bring yourself to. By now, you know those ten digits by heart having spent countless nights staring at that damn number trying to gather the courage to. Just. Call.

You never did.

You never dialled that damn number once.

God you should’ve, you should’ve.

If you called, if he knew, if S-Gojo knew Wataru wouldn’t be in this damn train struggling to stay alive while you lay on the floor broken and useless. 

Black spots dance across your already vision as you wheeze out an exhale. Every breath you take is a struggle. You’ve got a broken rib, maybe two or more and a concussion, you're not sure how bad your injuries are. 

Moving hurts.

Thinking hurts.

You want to sleep the pain away, to sleep this bad dream away but you can’t. You can’t sleep, you can’t. You’ll never wake up if you do. 

You’ll die.

You can’t die.

Not right now while Wataru’s in danger, not while Wataru’s trying to fend off a Grade 1 curse with a nascent and untrained technique. He’s crying, calling for you as he blocks another attack from the curse with infinity. It’s unstable. He won’t be able to keep this up. 

There’s a pregnant pause as the curse halts its attacks. 

It’s sensing something or someone with an uncomfortably large amount of cursed energy by the car door. Wataru takes notice too and cries out for help. The pure unadulterated fear and desperation in his voice makes your heart clench. Dreadfully, you knew in your gut it could only be one thing.

 A sorcerer. 

You should’ve expected it. They wouldn’t just let this strong curse roam around in the heart of whatever city you’re in.

The curse roars and flings a gooey tentacle-like limb in your direction, sending you flying. The last thing you hear is Wataru’s horrified shriek as you land on your side with a resonating crash before your world fully fades to black.

—

Satoru has never been a fan of hospitals with their tendency to be a hotbed for curses and sterile smells. Hospitals tend to be in this weird state of liminality that being in one felt both understimulating and understimulating. 

He adjusts himself on the steel chair, careful not to wake the boy—Wataru, next to him. The kid had insisted on waiting for his mom to wake up but after a cup of hot chocolate, he was out like a light.

Cool air hits his skin as he undoes the bandages covering his eyes. Satoru rolls up the white cloth, letting his eyes fully adjust to the sudden surge of information. You on the bed, Wataru beside him, the curses inside the hospital and so much more. It’s more overstimulating as usual, that’s good…?

He sets his eyes on you, taking in every detail from the length of your hair to the minute waves of your cursed energy. You’ve barely changed.

He never thought he’d see you again, not since you left and not like that. 

His mind’s still reeling, still trying to fully process the sight of you on the floor half-dead, surrounded by corpses and in a pool of blood he could only pray wasn’t yours while a boy who frighteningly looked like his younger self cried out for you.

He glances at Wataru leaning against him as he sleeps.

“Mister, m-my mom!” the boy sobs, tears flowing down his cheeks, “S-she’s–” he lets out a wail, unintentionally piercing through Satoru’s infinity with his own to grab his hand.

God, his stomach dropped the moment the boy uttered that single word.

Mom. 

Wataru called you ‘mom’. 

Wataru’s your son.

And god, he’s–he’s– 

It shakes him to his core but there’s no denying it, not with the boy inheriting his family’s cursed technique. The puzzle pieced itself together, leaving him with the answer to who Wataru is and a question entailing a thousand more.

Why didn’t you tell him?

Did you know when you left?

If you knew, why did you leave?

He knows he won’t get any sort of answer until you wake and so he waits but patience was never Satoru’s strong point. In less than an hour he had abandoned his seat and began pacing around the room while ignoring the buzzing of his work phone. 

Sometime around four a.m. you stir, letting out a pained groan as a nurse replaced your IV. Muttering something incomprehensibly you try to sit up in a panic, only to be stopped by the nurse just before she makes her leave. 

“...taru?” You call out in Satoru’s direction, voice hoarse.

“I’m not Wataru,” You freeze at the sound of his voice, shock evident on your face.  He forces out a chuckle and smiles, trying to hide the nervousness bubbling in his chest as he makes his way to your side. 

“It’s been a while, huh,  ____.” He greets, sitting himself on the foot of your bed.

“G-gojo?! ” You manage to stutter out, a stray lock of hair falling over your face, Satoru fights back the urge to tuck it behind your ear and simply gives you a half smile. 

“We need to talk.”

You blink and rub your eyes, making sure you aren’t hallucinating or that this was some sort of near-death dream. A quick pinch confirms that you are in fact alive meaning that he’s here, he’s really here.

You never expected to wake up, hell, you never even expected to make it out of the train alive. From the moment you shielded Wataru with your body from the panicked stampede of people trying to get away from the curse they’re unable to fully perceive, you knew you weren’t making it out. 

Five years away from jujutsu society never made you forget just how weak you are. Foolishly, though, you thought you could protect Wataru from the same world that chewed you out and spat out a shadow of yourself.

You were wrong.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

You should’ve known that you wouldn’t be strong enough to protect your boy.

But here you were, alive and Wataru–shit, where’s Wataru? You whip your head around the room, trying to catch any sign of Wataru, only to find none. Of course, he wouldn't be here. If you’re alive then—one look at Wataru and—

“Hey, hey, hey, breathe,” Satoru taps lightly at your shoulder.

“Wataru.” you wheeze out, “w-where’s Wataru?” It’s getting hard to breathe. Everything’s too much, too loud and too bright but–“Breathe, ____.”

Right. 

Breathe. Just Breathe.

In and out. In and out. Inhale. Exhale.

Calm down.

Calm down.

“Don’t worry,” Gojo says, hand falling back to his side, “Wataru’s right there,” he gestures behind him, leaning slightly to the side, “See?”  Behind him, you spot tufts of white hair poking out from a blanket cocoon lying sideways in a makeshift bed made up of two steel chairs. 

Your shoulders sag, relieved. Wataru’s safe, he’s alright, they didn’t take him away.

“We need to talk,” S-Gojo repeats after a long silence but both of you are reticent, hesitant to address the elephants in the room so you stare, waiting for the other to make the first move.

Silence.

Silence.

Silence.

And then finally.

“He–Wataru’s mine, isn’t he?” There’s an uncharacteristic desperation in his voice like isn’t asking to know but to anchor himself.

Breathe. 

Just breathe.

“...yes,”  You confirm, squeezing the fleshy part of the inside of your thumb, “he’s yours, Gojo.” You swear you saw his shoulders stiffen for a second at the use of his last name.

“How…how old is he?” 

“He just turned five.”

Gojo hums, turning to Wataru and then back to you. 

Silence fills the room again. 

The air becomes tense as Gojo stares at you, a realization dawning on him. “____…” he starts, slowly turning to you as he does, “Be honest with me. When you left did you–”

“No.” You cut him off, forcing yourself to look him in the eyes, hands balling into fists, “ I didn’t know and knowing I was pregnant wouldn’t have stopped me from leaving, Gojo.” 

Hurt is written all over Gojo as he looks at you, blue eyes desperate for something, anything. You avoid his gaze, ashamed even if it is the truth. No, you’re ashamed because it is the truth.

You’ve imagined this conversation thousands of times never thinking you’d actually get to have it. Ever since Wataru opened his eyes the thought of death–your death, was constant. Be it by the hands of a curse, curse user, sorcerer or whatever else you knew you’d end up dying somehow. 

Gojo’s still looking at you, mouth opening to say something only to end up saying nothing. The desperation in his eyes morphs into resignation. He had that same look in his eyes the night you decided to leave everything behind.

Briefly, you wonder if he held the same look in his eyes the day he walked you down those stairs. 

Gojo takes a deep breath, eyes turning to the window. “I tried to hide it.” He says, changing the topic.

The scenery outside had become a dark blue instead of pitch black. How long has this talk been going on?  How long had the two of you been peering at each other’s eyes, trying to make sense of the other?

“Hide what?” 

“Wataru’s cursed energy residuals,” He continues, hand reaching into his pocket to pull out a roll of bandages to fiddle with, “It’s a lot like mine, with a few differences here and there. Hopefully, the clean-up crew would mistake it for mine. It’s a bit of a gamble but–”

“It would be useless.” 

“No, it wouldn’t. I made sure to cover the all residuals up.”

“Covering it up with your own wouldn’t hide traces of a cursed technique. They’d know that someone else with a large amount of curse energy was there before you even got on the train,” You know that all too well, having spent most of your teens dealing with post-exorcism messes. “The clean-up crew will notice. At best they’d write it off as weird, an aftereffect of your technique or something. At worst, they’d include it in the incident report and would be investigated.”

“It will be investigated,” he corrects, jaw tense, “A curse just killed a bunch of people on a shinkansen. The train was stopped in Kyoto station for an hour because the team sent to exorcise it took their sweet time.” 

He’s frustrated, you note, probably because the higher–ups decided to throw the job at him. Gojo, apparently, still hates taking on missions that weren’t originally his. Well, not that you could blame him for it.

“I’m writing a report too. I can pull some strings, make sure that any word on some weird residuals at the scene stays as a footnote. ” His eyes meet yours again. Gone were the hurt, desperation and resignation in them, replaced simply by a spark that screamed trust me in all six of them. It’s something you never thought you’d see in Gojo Satoru, the young god who once upon a time insisted on getting convenience soft serve–your treat, after every mission and called you in the middle of fights. 

He places a large hand on your knee, “But it’d only be a temporary solution.”

“I know…” Wataru was an anomaly among anomalies. A second set of six-eyes shouldn’t exist but here he was.

“The higher–ups and clans will find out about him sooner or later.”

“I know…” You repeat, looking down at your hands, still curled into fists.

“It’s okay though,” he adds and you whip your head up, “what?”

“We have time.”

“What?”

“The report.” Gojo clarifies, leaning closer. “It’ll buy us time.” 

Us?

Gojo’s close, close enough that you could feel his warmth of breath on your face. “____, do you trust me?” he whispers, deep blues trained on you.

“I…” You did, once upon a time, you did, you believed his claim of being the strongest and his promise to protect you.

 And where did that get you? Half–dead in some collapsed basement holding her hand.

But…

You can’t do this alone. This would just be the beginning, a stroke of bad luck corrected by a stroke of good (?) luck. Next time you and Wataru won’t be so lucky. 

Other than that Wataru, was bound to enter jujutsu society at some point. There’d be clan politics involved and you, a woman who barely counted as a Grade 4 sorcerer would be even more powerless than you already are. 

With Gojo on your side, with Gojo backing Wataru up, your boy would have a fighting chance against those scummy old men who called themselves elders.

Maybe you’ll come to regret this, maybe this is where your luck runs out but fuck it. There was no better option than to trust the so-called strongest again.

You’ll take the gamble.

You’ll learn how to trust him again.

“I...I  do.”

“Good.” He smiles, tucking that stray lock of hair behind your ear before pulling away. It’s not until the last of the warmth from Gojo’s fingertips leaves that you realise something.

His infinity was off.

unrelated notes:

thoughts? opinions? violent reactions? sajdfnfasf okay anyways I completely forgot about the nurse halfway through editing and forgot she was even there.

NEXT CHAPTER MIGHT TAKE A BIT BECAUSE AAAAAAA I AM DOOMED I GOTTA PLAN LIKE A SCHOOL ACTIVITY, DO TWO RESEARCH PROJECTS (cramming a lab report as i publish this) AND THEN SOME MORE HHHHHHHHH BUT I PROMISE I WILL UPDATE I PROMISE JADFASDFKJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJ

okay anyways i went to a goat farm and bloated myself by eating too much of the free ice cream teehee.

[bbina]

good days plays in my head when i think about chenle

[1upcrew]

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