TOJI who Comes Home Late From Work To A Silent House. All Of The Lights In The House Are Off, The Only

now playing - jujutsu kaisen

" being a child is not a sin. " " the most twisted curse of all is love. "

featuring -> satoru gojo, suguru geto, kento nanami, toji fushiguro, choso kamo, ryomen sukuna, hiromi higuruma, ino takuma, yuuji itadori, megumi fushiguro, yuuta okkostu, toge inumaki

key : * = angst ~ = smut ^ = fluff

< ... >

entry 001 : who is (y/n)? ft. kento nanami * entry 002 : a quiet night in ft. kento nanami ^ entry 003 : voices ft. suguru geto ^* entry 004 : baked goods ft. suguru geto ^ entry 005 : girls night out ft. suguru geto, satoru gojo, choso kamo ^~ entry 006 : recharge ft. kento nanami ^ entry 007 : fix you ft. suguru geto ^* entry 008 : soft dom ft. satoru gojo ~ entry 009 : everyone but you ft. megumi fushiguro ^ entry 010 : cold, dead heart ft. ryomen sukuna ^* entry 011 : cat-like ft. choso kamo ^ entry 012 : opposites ft. yuuji itadori ^ entry 013 : starry night ft. suguru geto, satoru gojo ^* entry 014 : betting on you ft. satoru gojo * entry 015 : pink-haired matchmaker ft. kento nanami ^ entry 016 : firsts ft. kento nanami ^~ entry 017 : private, not secret ft. kento nanami ^ entry 018 : looking after you ft. suguru geto ^* entry 019 : jealousy ... insecurity ft. yuuta okkotsu ^* entry 020 : part of you ft. satoru gojo ^* entry 021 : aggressive dom ft. satoru gojo ~ entry 022 : why you? ft. suguru geto ^ entry 023 : everything was perfect ft. satoru gojo ^* entry 024 : deserved ft. hiromi higuruma ~ entry 025 : my love, mine all mine ft. multi ^ entry 026 : never alone ft. suguru geto ^* entry 027 : designated seat ft. satoru gojo ~ entry 028 : not her ft. yuuji itadori * entry 029 : shoulders ft. suguru geto ^* entry 030 : to you ft. toji fushiguro ^ entry 031 : softened edge ft. ryomen sukuna ^ entry 032 : not her (2) ft. yuuji itadori * entry 033 : mirrored image ft. suguru geto * entry 034 : drunkenly yours ft. megumi fushiguro ^ entry 035 : not yet ft. satoru gojo ^* entry 036 : across the universe ft. multi ^ entry 037 : what might've been ft. suguru geto, satoru gojo, ieri shoko ^* entry 038 : a welcome distraction ft. suguru geto, satoru gojo ^

Across the Universe

The JJK characters in various alternate universes!

INCLUDED - Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, Choso Kamo, Toji Fushiguro, Ryomen Sukuna, Hiromi Higuruma, Ino Takuma, Yuuta Okkotsu, Inumaki Toge, Yuuji Itadori, Megumi Fushiguro

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

!TATTOO ARTIST GOJO is such a smug bastard — pearly skin adorned with intricate inked designs that each house their own specialized meaning and sparkling aquamarine eyes that search for you every time that the tiny shop bell dings. If it is you dropping by with a bag of his favorite takeout, he’ll momentarily pause with his client to lovingly greet you. Sure, it may annoy his client, but when it comes down to you, Satoru would allow cities to burn before his attention was ever pulled away from you.  

!TATTOO ARTIST GOJO is absolutely over the moon when you tell him that he can practice designs on you, offering him your arm or your leg with that smile that he can’t help but press a loving kiss to. He’ll make sure that you’re nice and comfortable before starting; he likely offers you a stress ball or something similar before getting to work. And once the piece is finished, he happily accepts the compliments (and kisses) you give him for doing such a beautiful job. (He also will not say no to the thousand Instagram pictures that you order him to take). 

!BIKER GETO is, quite literally, a doberman wearing a pristine leather jacket. So when you politely text him to pick you up from your girl’s night, he’s already grabbing your helmet and speeding his way from your shared apartment to whatever bar you were at. He tells you to stay put, that he would be there in ten minutes, and that he loved you. The moment that you hear his bike’s engine, you’re moving towards it like a moth to a garden light. He wastes no time in throwing his jacket over your shoulders and wrapping you up in his arms, tucking your face away and pressing comforting kisses against your hairline.  

!BIKER GETO absolutely adores the fact that you want to use his bike as a prop in your Instagram pictures, posing with the vehicle in an outfit that is planned to perfectly match the color of his bike. He doesn’t mind being your photographer at all, praising you and making sure that he gets all of your good angles. He also doesn’t mind helping you pick which ones to post — just as long as you make sure to tag him in them. And as long as you don’t mind him mercilessly attacking any other male in your comments that even dares to compliment you.  

!COWBOY NANAMI is an absolute sucker for the domestic mornings that you both share; he loves waking up to the smell of freshly brewed coffee, bacon, eggs, and occasionally, sausage. (Though he doesn’t like waking up to you not lying beside him, you making him breakfast is a very easy solution.) He loves coming downstairs to see you humming and dancing around the kitchen, wearing one of his button-ups that dwarfs you completely. He just loves how comfortable and in your element you are — you make him so incredibly soft. 

!COWBOY NANAMI is already picking out a ring after you meet his family for the first time … extended cousins and all. The little ones dance around your legs and compliment you in those adorable Southern accents, his aunts and uncles smile fondly at the way that you present yourself and talk about your relationship with him, and his parents are simply overjoyed at the little jewel that their son decided to bring home. His hand wraps comfortably around your waist — and in that smooth Southern accent that melts you into a puddle — he agrees with his parents’ compliments and sneaks in one of his own. 

!DAYCARE WORKER CHOSO doesn’t want to think that he likes you at first. After all, you only ever stopped by his room to check in on the little ones, other than that, you remained in the daycare’s main office working as an assistant to the owner. So then why does his heart flutter every time that you make your routine stop to his room? Why do his cheeks feel warm every time that you talk to him? Why does he never want you to leave every time that your checks are finished? Why doesn’t he ever want you to leave? 

!DAYCARE WORKER CHOSO who can’t help but smile a little wider when he watches you interact with the kids in his rooms on your days off; how you never fail to make sure that each and every child is accounted for and is included. And Choso also doesn’t fail to notice how the children light up when he mentions that you’re stopping by — already asking what toys you were going to bring and what games you were going to play. It warms his heart that they love you just as much as (if not more) than he does. 

!BLUE COLLAR WORKER TOJI who spots you on his lunch break, talking so prettily with your little gaggle of friends. The coffee cup in your hand is decorated with the deep red of your lipstick — it makes him wonder what shade of red it is (and how it would look on his skin). Of course, he can’t talk to you at that moment, but his coworkers make sure that you know that he’s interested in you. And sure, you don’t catch his gaze just yet, but he knows that it’s only a matter of time until you do.  

!BLUE COLLAR WORKER TOJI who all but melts into your arms when he returns home after a particularly long day, savoring the warmth of your arms and burying his face away into your shoulder. Your hands rub up and down the length of his spine, cooing sweet reassurances into his ear and pressing kisses against his temple. He can’t help but smile at the fact that he was being babied, but considering that it was you … who was he to say no?  

!BODYGUARD SUKUNA who, at first, is very cold and distanced from you — considering that it was your father who hired him and gave him the instruction to keep an eye on your every move and make sure that you were properly kept safe. His answers to you are short and clipped, spoken in a tone that is laced with venom. It only drives you further away from him, which both satisfies and frustrates him. He really does love you from the moment your words are directed at him, but because of his current situation, he pushes those feelings deep down and forces himself to forget about them. 

!BODYGUARD SUKUNA who sneaks into your room in the middle of the night, smirking to himself when he enters to see you patiently waiting for him. You smile softly at him as he enters, crawling into his arms once he makes himself comfortable on your bed. Your head tucks comfortably into the crook of his neck, arms winding around his waist with your legs tangling with his own. He tilts his head to rest his cheek against the side of your head, humming against you — savoring the warmth of your embrace and relishing in the chaste kisses that you plant against his neck.  

!PROFESSOR HIGURUMA who is the first member of staff to greet you on campus, standing in the doorframe of your empty classroom with his arms crossed over his chest. You pause what you were doing — which was reviewing your lesson plans — and turn to the mysterious man standing outside of your classroom. He greets you politely, clearing his throat after realizing that he might have been staring at you for a moment too long. You return his greeting, and a comfortable conversation flows between the both of you; it’s mostly him inquiring about your lesson plans.  

!PROFESSOR HIGURUMA who enjoys the nights that you both spend grading together. You sit beside him with your legs propped up on his lap, essays piled high on top of your legs while he quietly scans over the last few tests that he had procrastinated. On the coffee table are your unfinished cups of tea, sugar completely dissolved and milk creating a swirl across the top of the tea. The silence is comfortable, occasionally filled by the sound of a turning page or a hum that rumbles up from the back of his throat.  

!PHOTOGRAPHER INO who adores when you sit beside him to go through the pictures he’s taken on his laptop, offhandedly commenting on how many candid shots he has of you (three folders to be exact). Your chin is resting on the top of his head, eyes trained on the pictures that he tries so hard to click quickly through. His cheeks are burning red, not that you can really see them from your position above him. You want to tease him, but pause at one of the pictures. It’s of you on your latest date, body half-turned to look at him with a bright smile painted onto your face. You think you look terrible, but with the way he gazes at the same picture, you could have hung the moon and stars. 

!PHOTOGRAPHER INO who never misses an opportunity to capture precious moments with his camera. Each date you go on, you can bet that he’s going to be snapping photo after photo to “commemorate the moment.” In reality, you know he’s just gathering pictures of you, but the thought behind it all is so pure-hearted and tooth-rot-tingly sweet. Nine times out of ten, he’ll pick his favorite from the night and frame it, gifting it to you after the night’s over.  

!ROYALTY YUUTA who can feel his heart momentarily stop in his chest the moment that he sees you standing at the top of the palace steps, dress sparkling in the light provided by the ballroom’s grand chandelier. He watches you carefully as you descend the stairs, waving politely to the other patrons who greet you first. The warmth in his chest transfers to his cheeks as you approach him, greeting him with a gentle peck and a smile that has him weak in the knees. He regains himself quickly however, offering you his hand and asking you to dance — an offer that only a fool would decline.  

!ROYALTY YUUTA who is all smiles and giggles when you sneak out of your room to join him in the palace’s darkened hallways. He tugs at your hand as you both sneak past the various guards that are stationed throughout the palace’s second floor. He turns to you with a finger pressed against his lips, smiling in response to your own as he finally sneaks you into the palace’s grand library, where the both of you remain until sunrise and the king and queen go searching for their son and his betrothed. 

!COLLEGE STUDENT TOGE who makes it very known that you are his beautiful, stunning girlfriend. Yes, you’re set as his wallpaper (on both his laptop AND his phone). Yes, he references you in almost every conversation that he has. Yes, he’ll hold your hand in the crowded halls and sit next to you during the class that you both just so happen to share. No, he has no shame in hugging you tightly in public. No, he has no shame in kissing you and emphasizing it with a disgusting “mwah!”.  

!COLLEGE STUDENT TOGE who memorizes your coffee order and, before class every day, surprises you with it along with a small pastry. Does it absolutely ruin his bank account? Sure. But is there anything that could ever compare to your smile and the kiss you lay against his cheek in thanks? Absolutely not. He would gladly run his bank account into the ground if it meant making your Monday mornings just a touch brighter. 

!BARISTA YUUJI who swears up and down that he doesn’t have a favorite regular — besides you that is. He swears that he doesn’t remember your coffee order at all … and yet it’s always waiting on the pickup side of the register when you walk in. He swears that he has no idea who you are … and yet he perks up like an excited dog when the coffee shop’s bell dings at 9:15 every morning. No, he definitely doesn’t have a favorite regular. 

!BARISTA YUUJI who adores when you accompany him during his closing shifts, waiting patiently at your designated table and watching as he finishes up any nightly tasks. He jingles the keys to the shop in your face when he’s finished, already asking you about your day and peppering your face with a flurry of kisses that you can never escape. His fingers lace into yours as he locks up, both of you already setting off down the sidewalk back to your apartment complex.  

!SHELTER VOLUNTEER MEGUMI who promises you before his weekly visit that he won’t bring home another dog — knowing that your apartment was barely large enough to house the two Shepherd pups that he had brought home. He kisses the top of your head and promptly leaves before you’re able to get another word in … and deep down you know that he’s going to return with something. He can’t help it, and when he holds the puppy up to your eyes, you quickly understand why. 

!SHELTER VOLUNTEER MEGUMI who all but melts when he comes home after a long day to see you and your (now) three dogs all curled up on the couch together. The two black-and-white shepherds are laying protectively in front of the couch while the newest little addition lays comfortably across your chest, little puppy snores rumbling in its nose. He has to resist the urge to take an unhealthy amount of pictures of you and the dogs — instead, he decides to silently lower himself to sit down and watch you. He reaches a finger out, stroking it over your cheek and smiling to himself … God, he was so absolutely in love with you.  

Can you write one where Astarion realizes that Tav is acting strangely because it's actually Orin and the actual Tav is kidnapped by her?? Thank you so much and I love your work!!

A/N - Oh my god I absolutely adore the trope of kidnapped lover being rescued (the parasites in me crave the angst). I hope you like this, I had a lot of fun writing it! So thank you @fanficlov-3-r <3

I Know You

Preview - "And he knew that the others knew that little fact as well, considering that Shadowheart had already whispered to the others something along the lines of, '(Y/N) isn't amongst us.'"

Warning(s) - mature themes, foul language, canon BG3 violence

Word Count - 3.9k

Astarion prided himself on his ability to have memorized everything about you, from how your nose scrunched when you saw something you disliked to how your eyes sparkled when you noticed him staring at you from across the fire. It was those little things that simply made you … well … you. 

Which was why he found it very offputting when he noticed your excessive alcohol intake while attending a Tiefling party. Yes, you liked to indulge in a glass of wine or two while you chatted happily with Astarion or any of your other companions – but never had he seen you cradle an entire bottle of wine to yourself and drink it in its entirety. 

But that behavior was only one of multiple that he had noticed throughout the night; you were dancing with any Tiefling who offered their hand, you seemed to stray away from him and the others throughout the night, and the smile you wore did not reach your eyes in the slightest. It seemed fake, similar to the smiles that Astarion had once flashed at you to get your clothes off. 

“Is it just me or does (Y/N) seem a little … off?” Shadowheart comments, her eyebrow raising as she watches you indulge another Tiefling in a drunken dance. You stumble over both your feet and his own, a detail that both she and Astarion narrow their eyes at. 

For an oh-so-grateful leader, you were being careless tonight. 

Astarion’s eyes follow those of Shadowheart’s, landing on you just as you are finishing a dance with your fifth Tiefling of the night. He bows to you shakily, and in return, you curtsy – another move that Astarion had never thought he would see you perform. 

“I must say that I agree with Shadowheart. Excuse me for a moment,” Astarion abandons his half-empty wine glass, sliding it across the bar. The bartender raises a brow at Astarion, but says nothing. 

You chuckle heartily as a Tiefling female approaches you, in her hands a sparkling glass of champagne. You take it from her the moment it’s offered, just about to bring it to your lips before a pale hand clasps over your shoulder. 

“Ah-ah darling, I think that’s enough with the drinking for one night,” Astarion says with a fanged smile, angling himself so that he’s able to pluck the champagne glass from your hands quickly. You turn to him, eyebrows pinched together in an expression that mixes frustration and shock – as if you had been caught doing something that you shouldn’t. 

“Come off Astarion, I can indulge if I so choose,” you retort quickly, fingers extending towards your glass. Astarion lifts his arm, the glass just barely out of your reach. “You are indulging tonight, are you not?”

He chuckles, his chest rumbling against your shoulder as his scarlet eyes rake over your figure. Something was wrong, it wasn’t just your general composure – it was everything down to the very way that you stood on your own two feet. 

“While that is true, I am watching what I indulge in,” Astarion says, already glancing at Shadowheart, who nods knowingly. She mumbles something inaudibly then to Gale, and soon a secret message is relayed over all of your companions. 

The Tiefling female had long since left your side, only adding to your annoyance that Astarion had come to your side. You turn sharply to face him, eyes narrowing at him. 

“And just explain to me why you thought it necessary to disrupt my fun?” you snap, glaring daggers into the vampire who stands in front of you. Astarion merely sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb. His eyes flicker over you again, and it is in that moment that he realizes something … you were most certainly not you. 

And he knew that the others knew that little fact as well, considering that Shadowheart had already whispered to the others something along the lines of, “(Y/N) isn’t amongst us.” 

“Because I know you (Y/N), and right now,” Astarion pauses only to yank you closer, lowering his lips to your ear. “You are not who you say that you are.”

You freeze in his arms, eyes flickering to look at him. The crease in your eyebrows vanishes, your expression of frustration replaced now by one of shock. “What are you on about?”

“Oh come on now, don’t play dumb with me,” Astarion growls, his grip over your wrist tightening, “I know (Y/N), and she would never indulge in such things of her own accord.”

You swallow the growing lump in your throat, not protesting as a very angered Astarion drags you out of the Tiefling party. He is quickly flanked by Shadowheart and the others, none of whom offer you looks of sympathy – if anything, they look just as angered as the vampire in front of you. 

The moment that your feet touch camp, your wrists and ankles are promptly tied by Karlach, who offers you no answers even as you demand to know what in the hells is going on. Astarion stands quietly at her side, his arms folded over his chest whilst his mind promptly races.

Where were you? Who was sitting in your place? Where the hells were you?

With a singular wave of his hand over your body, Gale reveals Orin to the others, then steps back and glares down his nose at her. In response, her lips only turn upward in a grin, one that sends a shiver down the spines of those that surround her. 

“Where is–”

“Oh please, save me the dramatics,” Orin says with a roll of her eyes, adjusting herself so that she sits comfortably. Her attention moves to Astarion, her smile widening at the sight of the expression that he wears. 

“You have five minutes to answer our questions before–”

Orin’s head tilts in Lae’zel’s direction, her eyes crinkling as her smile widens impossibly further. Her lips part, a delighted chuckle falling from her lips. “Before what? You kill me? If I die, (Y/N)’s location dies with me.”

In a flash of white and silver, the blade of a dagger is pressed against the skin of Orin’s neck, pressed down just hard enough to draw a thin line of blood. Astarion kneels in front of Orin, narrowed eyes glaring daggers into her as his lips pull back in an angered growl. 

“You will reveal (Y/N)’s location lest you want to end up a paled mess on the ground.” He was shocked by how much your disappearance had affected him – especially considering that he was supposed to be keeping his affection for you a secret from the others. 

There was a reason behind his secrecy, however, a reason that you had agreed with when he had first proposed the idea to you. It was for your safety, for your protection. But it seemed like even with that … he still couldn’t keep the one thing that kept him sane safe. 

Orin chuckles, leaning forward so that her nose just barely grazes his own. He can feel her breath as it fans over his face – it disgusts him. 

“Is that so?” Her head tilts, another delighted chuckle bubbling up her throat and spilling over her lips. Astarion pushes the blade further against her, ignoring the yells of warning delivered by the other members of the party. 

His eyes narrow, his eyebrows pinch together, and his expression hardens. Orin only chuckles again, sighing dreamily in a way that reminds Astarion of a hopelessly lovesick girl. Gods, what he would give to plunge the blade of his dagger into her neck. 

“Fine, but I hope you know I’m not yielding because of your … intimidation,” Orin murmurs, pouting childishly as Astarion pulls her to her feet, still glaring at her. He says nothing as he drags her past the others, not checking over his shoulder to see that the others have followed him.

< … >

Another chilled shiver runs up the length of your spine, using your vertebrae as a ladder. You turn uncomfortably onto your side, trying once again to tug your ankles from their shackles. All you’re met with is the sound of rattling metal. 

It had been a few hours … or perhaps even a few days since you last saw the others. You didn’t know – perhaps time worked differently when you were captured. 

The last you remembered, you were walking silently along a forest pathway with Astarion a few feet behind you. You were engrossed in the beauty of the willow trees that hung silently over you, their branches serving you the beautiful luxury of shade that covered you from the sun’s blaring rays. 

Just as you turned a corner in the forest, a cold hand that wasn’t Astarion’s clasped over your own, tugging you away into a forest patch. One good knock to the side of the head … and that was the last that you were able to clearly remember. 

When you awoke, your ankles were shackled to a wall and your wrists were bound with rope, rubbing uncomfortably against your skin and leaving behind angry red marks. 

Your body had been littered with marks; cuts, bruises, and gashes. At first, they hadn’t hurt you at all – but you blamed that entirely on your adrenaline. Now every cut burned, every bruise ached, and every gash felt as though it would never stop bleeding. 

Surely every vampiric creature within a 50-mile radius could smell your blood … especially considering how much of it lay in a disgusting puddle surrounding your body. 

A shaky breath escapes you, one that you surely hoped would be your last. Your teary eyes flicker around the cell that you’d been thrown into; the cell that lacked even so much as a window. You were completely disconnected from the outside world, and for a singular moment, you thought that maybe you had died. 

And maybe you were okay with that now … with dying. 

Even though for so long you had tried your hardest to protect everyone – practically throwing your life down on the line for the lives of your companions – being captured was making you realize something. 

Maybe they didn’t care about you nearly as much as you cared about them.

If they cared, they would be searching for you. If they cared, you wouldn’t be bleeding out in some dank old cell with no way to know what time of day it was. If they cared … they would prove it, wouldn’t they?

A choked sob claws its way up your throat, legs curling inward. You wrap your arms around them, hugging them against your chest as your body curls inward into a fetal position. 

They didn’t care. Not Gale, not Karlach, not Lae’zel, not Shadowheart. 

Not even Astarion.

Astarion …

After everything that you had done for him. You had spared him that morning while walking with Shadowheart. You had let him stay in your camp even though he spat venomous insults each time you interacted politely with him. Hells, you had even let the damn man feed on you. 

In exchange for your blood, he was letting you rot alone in a cell. 

So much for helping others, you think quietly to yourself, tears slipping down your cheeks as your lashes flutter shut. A gentle numbness spreads over you as if someone had draped a blanket over you. It felt nice. It felt safe. 

Your shoulders relax, your lips part. 

One gentle breath falls from your lips before all goes silent.

< … >

“Come on now, I’ve led you right to where she is! The least you can do is entertain a conversation,” Orin complains loudly, huffing childishly as Astarion continues shoving her forward. 

There was no lie to her words, she had led Astarion and the others to where she had thrown you – a dimly lit dungeon hallway that was only filled with the sounds of low groans and dripping water, but even those had become scarce the longer that they walked. 

“The only thing I’ll entertain is your demise,” Astarion bites out, though he desperately wishes that he had kept his mouth shut. Orin doesn’t fail to catch the tremble in his voice – the vulnerability that seeps from his words. 

Her lips curl, another delighted chuckle rumbling somewhere deep inside of her chest. Her eyes flicker to catch a glimpse of Astarion’s profile, her chuckle deepening as she notices the emotional turmoil sketched into his features. 

“I wonder what you will do to me when you realize that she’s–”

“Hush,” Astarion hisses, reaching down and yanking the bonds around Orin’s wrist. The rub of the rope against her skin is enough to silence her. “Not another word out of you, wench.”

Orin stifles the small whimper of pain that had threatened to fall from her lips, instead turning to the cell that they were nearing; your cell. 

At the sight of the metal bars and uneven stones, she giggles. Astarion passes her off to Shadowheart, ignoring the cleric’s protests as he approaches the cell. 

“Oh shit.”

The world seems to go completely silent at the sight that lies before Astarion’s eyes, a sight that he immediately wishes that he could forget. 

You lay on your side with your back facing the cell’s door, blood – your blood – surrounding you in a crimson puddle. The bits of skin that Astarion can see are littered with cuts and bruises, your legs covered in gashes that continue to drip with fresh blood. 

In any other situation, Astarion would have marveled at both the sight and smell of your blood … perhaps even allowed himself to indulge in it. 

But now?

Gods, he had never been more disgusted by any one sight or smell. 

“Astarion? What’s – oh my Gods,” Karlach raises a hand to her mouth, palm covering her lips as she gazes upon the same sight as Astarion. The others join her, and each of them falls silent. “You take … her … and get out of here.”

Shadowheart nods, shooting Orin a sharpened glare before tugging the shapeshifter back down the way that they had come, ignoring her yells of protests and the way that she struggles against the ropes that bind her wrists together. 

With one tug at the already worn-down metal, Karlach disconnects the bars of the cell. She steps inside, carefully approaching you before copying her previous actions and removing the shackles from around your ankles. 

“(Y/N)?” she murmurs down to you, lightly shaking your shoulder while simultaneously trying to be sure that she does not burn you – the last she wants is to add to your injuries. 

She’s pushed aside by Astarion, who kneels beside you and feels his breath hitch at the sight of your paled face. Your cheeks have lost their usual rosy color, replaced instead by a white that looked as though it could rival the color of his hair. 

“Shit,” is the only thing that he’s able to say properly before he scoops you into his arms. He shakes on his feet for a moment, the sudden weight in his arms debilitating his balance. He says nothing as he strides past the others, making a beeline for the exit.

< … >

The first thing that you feel is a dull ache, then followed by a wave of pain that has you shooting upright and promptly vomiting onto whatever surface happens to be beside you. The moment you’ve finished emptying your stomach, a piece of cloth is offered to you by a pale hand – a familiar one this time. 

Hesitantly, you take it, dabbing the cloth against your mouth before looking up to who had handed it to you. 

“Astarion?”

“That would be my name, yes darling,” Astarion responds, though his tone doesn’t hold his usual flirtatious lilt that you had grown so used to. No, he sounds exhausted … it made you wonder just how long he had sat at your bedside. 

Your eyes roam over him, taking note of the tiny, barely-there bags that rest beneath his eyes. For a man who cared so deeply about appearance, he surely looked as though he had let himself go … likely because of you.

As much as you wish to take him into your arms and comfort you, a fleeting thought passes through your mind — he had taken his sweet time in finding you. 

If the roles had been reversed, and it had been Astarion who was taken from you, you already knew that you would have searched Heaven and Earth trying to find him. No stone would have been left unturned, no witness left unspoken to … you would have stopped at nothing. 

But it felt as though Astarion hadn’t cared enough, if he had, you wouldn’t have been as badly wounded as you were. You wouldn’t have laid in that cell for as long as you have, not that you knew the length of time in which you had been missing anyway. 

Astarion’s head lifts at the sound of you rustling, body scooting back from him until your spine rests against the headboard of your bed. You lift your knees to your chest, hugging around them. 

“Darling?”

You remain silent, but you allow your eyes to raise to meet his awaiting gaze. He waits patiently, though you can’t help but feel as though he’s analyzing you.

“How long have I been gone?” you ask. Astarion pauses, scarlet eyes flickering away from you. He swallows, you can see the emotional turmoil that swims in his eyes. Answer me, you usher in your mind. 

“Orin wouldn’t tell us,” Astarion answers honestly, voice wavering as he recounts his angered questioning of the shapeshifter. She had only giggled in his presence and “answered” his question with another question of her own. 

You remain silent, nodding to yourself as you glance down at the bandages that adorn your arms and legs. It makes you wonder if Astarion had patched you himself … or perhaps he had made one of your other companions do it. 

You lift your head, noticing now that Astarion’s attention was focused elsewhere. His expression looks identical to your own — caught in his own mind. Guilt. 

Did he feel guilty?

“Does anything—“ he pauses to clear his throat, “—anything hurt you?”

”Just my arms and legs,” you answer. Astarion nods, inhaling deeply and shifting in his chair. For some twisted reason, you want him to stand up and leave. Maybe it was to further prove your point, or maybe you just wanted to be alone. 

You’d never really know the true answer. 

He hums, nodding to himself before he shifts again. For a fleeting moment, he debates on whether or not he should stand and exit — it was clear that you wanted your space anyway. 

Astarion knew you … and he knew that right now, you certainly didn’t want him around. Never were you short with him, but your tone insinuated that you wanted nothing to do with him. 

Not that he could honestly blame you. 

And so, he stands from his chair. You don’t lift your head to look at him again … telling. 

“Why did you take so long to come for me?”

He freezes, feeling as though someone had doused him in freezing water. His back stands rigid; you could see the way that his spine visibly tenses the moment that his mind processes what it was that you had asked him. 

You snap your jaw shut the moment that the words fall from your lips, regret filling your senses. Sheepishly, you look down, staring at your lap and screwing your eyes shut. 

You freeze at the feeling of arms wrapping over your shoulders, tugging you against a chest that you had spent many nights resting against. His skin felt cold against yours, a welcome contrast to the heat that was currently making you very uncomfortable. 

Astarion’s cheek rests against the side of your head, his hands squeezing at your waist while also being mindful of the injuries that you had sustained. He sighs shakily into your hair, feeling himself relax as he feels you reciprocate his embrace. 

“The moment that I realized that I was not interacting with you, I went out to find you,” Astarion confesses, holding you tighter as he recounts the fear in the moment when he realized that you were not you. 

You remain silent, simply soaking up the comfort that Astarion’s arms provides you with. Your head rests comfortably in the junction that connects his neck and his shoulder, nose buried into his neck. 

“You have … absolutely no idea how frightened I was,” he whispers, his voice so low that it even the rustle of the blankets overpowered his words. His arms shake where they rest around your waist, his fingernails just barely digging into the exposed skin of your waist. “The prospect of losing you–”

“Astarion.”

He pauses, feeling you shift in his arms. Without any word of protest, he releases you, settling onto his knees on the bed in front of you. You adjust yourself, then reach out to take his hands into your own. 

Astarion flinches. You pause, waiting for him to say something to you. He doesn’t, and so you take it as an okay to continue. Your fingers squeeze his own, the action directing his eyes to your own. 

You stay silent for a second or two, simply taking in the way that Astarion’s eyes soften at you. His usually sharp scarlet eyes are glazed over now with a new emotion – guilt. Guilt over not being there for you, guilt over not saving you sooner …

… guilt that you had gotten hurt. 

“Darling, if I had the chance to save you sooner, know that I would have taken it without a second of hesitation,” Astarion admits, shifting an inch closer to you. You feel the tears building along your waterline, your teeth catching your bottom lip as you attempt to suppress the sobs that begin to bubble up somewhere in your chest. 

One of his hands releases yours, hesitantly laying against your face. He thumbs away the tears in your eyes, sighing as you crumple and reach for him again. Astarion doesn’t waste a single second, wrapping you in his arms and resting his chin against the top of your head. 

“I thought that,” you hiccup, “you and the others had forgotten about me.”

His arms tighten around you at that declaration, chest promptly collapsing it on itself as he realizes just how scared you had been. He doesn’t want to imagine what you must have been thinking in that cell, likely thinking about if you would ever be saved.

If he would ever come for you.

“Never,” he whispers into your hair, fingers stroking comforting circles into the small of your back. “I would never forget you, ever.”

“You are the first thing in my entire life that makes me feel … feel something. Something other than burning hatred. You make this wretched world worth living in.”

You squeeze at him, hands bunching up his shirt from behind. He doesn’t bring attention to it, letting you cling to him with as much force as you need. 

“And I’m not going to let you go. Not now, not ever,” he promises you. You close your eyes, sighing shakily through your nose. He can feel your nod against his chest, his cheek leaning further into your hair. 

And that night, when the glistening moon hung over your tent and signaled to your companions that it was time to rest, Astarion remained at your side – fulfilling his promise.

He wasn’t going to let you feel that scared again. Not now, not ever.

Hey! I saw that you’re writing for JJK characters - do you have a limit on your requests? I have some ideas!

My first one is yuta x sorcerer reader where they’re starting to develop romantic feelings for each other and reader begins to put themselves down by comparing themselves to rika (yuta is unaware they’ve been feeling this way)

Thank you!!🫶🫶🫶

Sypnosis - As odd as it was, you were jealous of a curse. But in truth, your own self-worth was to blame for the situation.

Warning(s) - canon JJK violence, mature themes, foul language, RIka (I love her but she terrifies me)

A/N - I feel like this request would actually be me if I was at Jujutsu Tech, so thank you Anon for unknowingly making me feel very seen.

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

It all started when you slowly began to distance yourself from Yuuta.  

"Hey, Maki!" Yuuta waves, jogging towards Maki with a smile plastered onto his face. His arm is lifted in a friendly wave, one that Maki returns as he makes his way over to her. "Quick question, have you seen (Y/N) anywhere? I've been looking all over and I just can't find her." 

Maki hums in thought, the tip of her weapon tapping against her lip. She shakes her head shortly after, her shoulders lifting in a shrug. "No idea, I haven't seen her either." 

Yuuta's face falls, an expression of worry overtaking the smile that had previously turned his lips upward. His fingers fidget with one another, nails scraping against the sides of his skin as worry crawls into his stomach.  

"I'm sure she's just caught up with her own missions, that's all," Maki says reassuringly, taking a mental note of the concerned expression that had slowly wormed its way onto Yuuta's face. She reaches out, placing a gentle palm against his shoulder and squeezing, smiling at him.  

He nods in agreement – there had been times where his missions piled up and he was left with little to no time to relax. Maybe you just so happened to be caught up in the same situation, it wasn't unlikely.  

"Right, yeah," he mutters offhandedly, his gaze shifting to the floor. He stares down at his shoes for a moment, feeling the pit of worry in his stomach only deepen.  

< ... > 

"(Y/N)! Hey!" Yuuta smiles widely upon seeing you walking beside Inumaki. He lifts his hand in a wave, pausing as he notices the darkened expression on your face. Your eyes flicker away from him, and through the side of your mouth you mumble something to Inumaki before quickly departing.  

Yuuta slows as he grows nearer to Inumaki, eyebrows knit together curiously. Already, you were halfway down Jujutsu Tech's front stairs, back turned to both Yuuta and Inumaki.  

He watches as you leave, turning then to Inumaki, who also stares curiously at you. The sudden change in attitude was unlike you — and he’d be lying if he said that wasn’t curious as to why you acted out the way that you had. 

“Is everything okay with (Y/N)?” Yuuta inquires, lifting his finger to his mouth, nibbling nervously on it. Just over his shoulder, Rika watches curiously, her head tilted slightly to the side in a mixture of jealousy and intrigue.  

"Salmon," Inumaki responds, lifting his shoulders in a shrug.  

< … >  

Groaning to yourself, you catch your head as it falls into your hands. Laid out on your desk are your schoolbooks, none of which have anything written into them even though your original intention had been to catch up on the homework that you were missing. 

But, of course, your mind had wandered elsewhere, too focused on a different situation entirely – your avoidance of Yuuta.  

You hadn't meant to avoid him as much as you did, but it wasn't as if you could help it. Each and every time you did so much as look at him, she was right there to curl a protective hand around him, tugging him further and further away from you with every interaction.  

Was it a little pathetic that you were comparing yourself to a Cursed Spirit? Maybe. But that didn't eradicate the fact that she actively kept Yuuta from doing anything with anyone – Maki was lucky to be within a five mile radius of Yuuta for training purposes.  

Rika was protective – but it wasn't that fact that bothered you. What bothered you was the fact that, unlike Rika, you weren't able to protect or be there for Yuuta in the same way that she could. You weren't nearly as strong as she was, you were a measly Third-Grade after all.  

You couldn't even keep up with your classmates – even Maki was too swift for you sometimes. Of course, there was always room to improve, but watching everyone else improve while you remained the same stung, like a fresh wound that you had just poured peroxide over.  

Even with your lack of skill, your classmates still respected you like they would any other Jujutsu Sorcerer. Maki always made sure to offer her hand to you after training with you, Panda would offer you helpful advice when you ran the track with him, hell, even Inumaki would fix your form when you practiced your Cursed Technique.  

And, of course, there was Yuuta.  

He was the one to cheer you on during training, he was the one to help you patch whatever scratches your body sustained after lessons, he was the one to crack muttered jokes to you while Gojo lectured, he was the one to cut his lunch in half on the days that you had accidentally forgotten yours in your dorm – Yuuta had been there for you since the very beginning.  

So then why did she make you as insecure as she did? 

Rika was a curse, a manifestation of negative emotions. Her sole purpose is to protect Yuuta in situations where he's incapable of protecting himself. And even then, you had only really seen her in action once – and that was when she had lost control of herself watching Maki overpower Yuuta during a physical lesson.  

You sigh to yourself, fingernails scratching against the sides of your head. A gentle sound rouses you from your thoughts, and it's then that you realize you had unintentionally started crying. You stare down at the tear marks that had fallen onto the pages of your notebook, smudging the lines and your writing.  

You lift your fingers to swipe your tears away, already feeling pathetic at the fact that you found yourself crying over an issue that you genuinely had no control over. It wasn't as if you could exorcise Rika and suddenly all of your problems would have fixed themselves.  

A knock at your dormitory door stops that thought before it can escalate.  

"(Y/N)? It's me!"  

Yuuta. 

Quickly, you swipe your palms against your eyes, no doubt leaving the skin there red and irritated. Huffing in annoyance, you wipe the end of your shirt against your eyes, praying that he wouldn't be stupid enough to point out the obvious once you opened the door.  

You stand from your desk, not bothering to push in your chair as you stride towards the door. On the other side is Yuuta, his lips pulled upward in that smile that always seemed to brighten everyone's day, no matter how dark it may have been.  

You don't say anything, already feeling guilt seep into your bones. Even with you avoiding him constantly, Yuuta still came to find you. God, you felt like such a bitch.  

"Hey," you say quietly, swallowing the waver in your voice and forcing yourself to smile at him.  

"Hey. I – uh – noticed you've been distant lately. Is everything okay? Is there anything that you want to talk about with me?" Yuuta offers softly, wringing his hands out nervously in front of him. He did that often, mainly when he spoke to Maki. It was cute to you, how nervous he was.  

"Oh," is all you manage to get out. Your eyes flicker away from his, instead watching as a group of students wander the hallways, turning the corner before vanishing from your line of sight. You know that Yuuta is still watching you expectantly, wanting you to say something but also not wanting to force you into an uncomfortable conversation.  

No time like the present, right? 

"It's a stupid issue, really. I wouldn't want to--" 

"It's not stupid if it's you (Y/N)," Yuuta cuts you off, his cheeks immediately burning a bright shade of pink. He swallows quickly, lifting his hands and waving them back and forth. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to cut you off! But it's true!" 

You stare in awe at him for a moment, your mouth dry as you stand silently in the doorframe of your dorm. Neither of you say anything for a second or two, staring at the other as if they had sprouted a second head.  

"Sorry...how about we just talk, yeah?" Yuuta offers, his lips turning upward in another one of those smiles that melts your heart.  

You nod, stepping to the side and permitting him entry. He walks past you, taking a seat on the small couch in your dormitory. He had been in there many times before, but recently, many of your little traditions had faded into nothing but little memories.  

Your teeth dig into your bottom lip, tugging the skin upward before you release it just as you feel blood beginning to drip from the self-inflicted wound.  

Hesitantly, you sit on the couch beside Yuuta, lifting your legs and crossing your ankles over one another. He waits patiently for you to start talking – the last thing that he wanted was to make you uncomfortable.  

"I swear I didn't mean to be so distant," you begin. A buzzer sounds loudly in your head – liar. You continue anyway, ignoring the little nagging voice nestled in the back of your mind. "It's just, I don't know, I haven't felt great recently." 

Yuuta remains silent, his hands folded in his lap as he watches you intently. He can feel his heart clenching at your words, how had he not noticed that you were suffering before?  

"Why?" 

"Because I'm not like you or anyone else. You all are special, you're all talented in your own way. Hell, even Rika is--" 

You cut yourself off before you bite out an undeserved insult towards Rika. Your jealousy of her was strong, obviously, but you never wanted to verbalize that to Yuuta. What if then he turned his back on you too? Then you'd really be left with absolutely nothing.  

"I just don't feel like I'm supposed to be here – at Jujutsu Tech," you finally admit. Internally, you cringe at just how childish your voice sounds, how it breaks between words and shakes as you bite back the sobs that rise in your throat.  

You pause at the feeling of someone's fingers slipping into your own. Your gaze flickers down to where your hand had been resting on the couch, shocked to see that Yuuta had bravely reached out to hold your hand.  

"You do belong here (Y/N). You're just as good a sorcerer as any of the rest of us, if not better. I mean, who else could take on Inumaki in a fight and stand a chance?" 

Your lips quirk apprehensively into a smile. Yuuta smiles at the sight of it, his eyes crinkling at the corners as his fingers momentarily squeeze your own.  

"I've always thought that you were the strongest," Yuuta whispers, talking as if he's sharing a secret that he wants only you to hear. Your cheeks heat at his words, eyes widening slightly.  

"Really?" 

Yuuta nods happily, squeezing your fingers again. "Yeah." 

You find yourself smiling at him, feeling your heart warm at his sentiment. Suddenly, every single negative comment you had ever uttered to yourself fades into the void – replaced instead by the warmth that Yuuta's words had provided you.  

"And I've always love-" Yuuta cuts himself off, pressing his lips together into a firm line before he's able to finish. You glance upward, already feeling your heart sink at the sight of Rika hovering behind Yuuta, her clawed hand resting on his shoulder. It feels like she's tempting him to finish, wanting to have an excuse to begin screaming and throwing a tantrum. 

You retract your hand from Yuuta's grip, but amazingly, he reaches for you again. For the first time, he ignores the curse behind him, keeping his focus solely on you. Only you. 

"Yuuta-" 

"I've always loved you (Y/N). And I hate to hear you say that you think you aren't as strong as the rest of us because in all honesty, you're stronger than any of us could ever be," Yuuta explains, wincing as he feels Rika claw into his shoulder, but he continues to ignore her presence.  

"If it wasn't for you, I don't think that any of us would be where we are right now." 

Weirdly enough, you feel yourself tearing up at Yuuta's words, the burning sensation of tears blurring your vision, obscuring your view of Yuuta. He smiles at you, using his other hand to brush away the tears that just barely cling to your bottom lash line.  

He opens his arms to you, smiling as you shift into them, pressing your face into his shoulder and allowing yourself to be wrapped in the warmth of his embrace.  

"Thank you," you whisper, your voice caught by the fabric of his shirt, but he hears you all the same.  

"You don't need to thank me for anything." 

erm hi!! is it okay if i use your idea of photographer!ino for a modern!au fic i plan on making??

hi!! yes that’s completely fine, just do tag me in it, i’d love to see it!!

000 - rules page

hi there! listed below are just a few ground rules for this blog.

-> i write mainly for female readers, but will write for other readers upon request

-> i am 100% okay with both fluff and angst, but am a bit iffy on full-length smut fics

-> i do not write character x character relationships unless in a poly situation (writing for satosugu x reader, etc)

I WILL NOT WRITE THE FOLLOWING -> r*pe, smut for characters that are minors, anything having to do with sc*t, p*ss, v*mit, incest, stepcest, illegal age-gaps, gender-swap characters, descriptive gore

don't be afraid to send in a request, as i accept the majority of them and try to write them within a timely manner!

The Shibuya Incident

JJK characters in Shibuya.

INCLUDED - Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto (!Non-Defected), Kento Nanami, Choso Kamo, Toji Fushiguro, Ryomen Sukuna, Ino Takuma, Yuuji Itadori, Megumi Fushiguro

WARNINGS - mature themes, foul language, mentions of death, explicit death, gore, canon JJK violence, mental breakdowns, mass murder

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

"Hey, hey. Take a breath for me," Gojo says softly to you, his thumbs smoothing over the skin just beneath your eyes. You're panicking in his arms, eyes flickering wildly about. Your body is shaking in his hold, fear radiating off of you in frantic waves.  

Even with his soft-spoken command, you can't. The ability to breathe feels like it's been ripped out from underneath your feet, replaced instead by sharpened inhales that only make your head spin and your throat burn. The feeling of his skin on your own, while it would've calmed you in any other situation, seemed to only make you feel worse.  

"Satoru," you try to bite out, but his name comes out like a breathy plea. His shoulders sag, the eyes behind his blindfold softening as he watches you descend into your own mind. He's just as scared as you are – walking into that veil was the exact same as walking into the belly of an angered beast.  

He didn't want to do it, and hell he wished that you would've stayed home where at least he knew that you were safe. But duty called … duty always called. "Honey, you have to breathe. Take a breath." 

Though you struggle, you inhale shakily. Gojo nods at you, encouraging you to take another breath. His shoulders raise in an emphasized show of breathing, which he only lowers once he sees your body mimicking the movement of his own.  

"There you go--" 

Gojo's words fall dead on his tongue as you tug his body against your own, arms winding around his waist and holding him in a bone-crushing embrace. In any other situation, he would've laughed at you – teased you even. But this time, he doesn’t.  

His arms wrap around your waist, holding you against him while his cheek lays against the top of your head. He sighs, feeling you shake against him as you conceal your crying into his chest, sobs caught by the thickened fabric of the shirt that he wears.  

"Promise me that you'll come back," you whisper, voice barely audible, but he hears you. Gojo sighs, tilting your head up so that your eyes meet his. Your hands shakily lift, pushing up his blindfold to see that his eyes shine with tears just like yours do. "Promise me 'toru." 

He smiles tearfully at you, nodding his head and craning his neck to place a loving kiss against your forehead. He lingers there for a moment, feeling you sigh against him as you close your eyes.  

"I promise." 

"(Y/N)! (Y/N), c'mon, answer me!" Geto must sound like a madman to the sorcerers' that accompany him, but their opinion of him holds no importance – not when he can't find you. 

Your phone had gone dead the moment that you entered the station, which he had expected and anticipated. But it didn't make his heart sink any less when he suddenly couldn't reach you. That meant that he wasn't sure if you were safe, or if you were even alive.  

And now, with an entire portion of the station infested with transfigured humans, Geto had one singular goal. That was to find you and get the fuck out of Shibuya, mission be damned. 

So he sprinted through the train station in a manner akin to a rabid animal, tearing through anything that stood in his path with whatever curse he was able to conjure up. It felt like he had been caught in tunnel vision, only able to see in front of him – all he wanted was to make sure that you were safe. 

"(Y/N)! Thank God, there you--" He pauses, his breath catching in his throat. It feels like he's been punched in the gut. His body stands rigid, eyes widening slowly at the sight that lies in front of him.  

You're there, you're right there in front of him. But your body is held in the hands of a transfigured curse, one with devilish eyes and a wicked smile that quickly burns itself into Geto's memory. He'd never forget that smile, ever.  

Weakly, your head turns so that your gaze meets his. "Suguru," is the only word that you're able to muster up in your current state. The freakishly large hand around you tightens, and with a painful grimace, you're gone before Geto could even process what was happening.  

And he stands there, eyes wide and body stiff, mirroring a position that he stood in years and years ago. 

"Kento …?" Your heart sinks as you slowly approach your husband's back, feeling your chest tighten in fear at the curse that stands behind him, hand raised – Mahito.  

Nanami's spine momentarily straightens at the sound of your voice, head turning just enough that he could watch you walk closer out of the corner of his eye. He wants to open his mouth to tell you to run, to reunite with the others and save yourself. But selfishly, he doesn't. 

He waits until you walk completely into view, shocked that Mahito even lets you. He had expected the child-like curse to round on you and promptly blow you to oblivion in front of his very eyes. He looks tired, exhausted even. You soften, tears already pricking at your eyes. 

"(Y/N)," he murmurs in that silky voice that always had the ability to make you weak. Even now, in a moment where you know that you were both completely and utterly doomed, you smile. Sure, it's a weak little quirk of your lips, but Nanami feels his heart soar at the sight of it.  

You shake your head, eyes flickering between your husband's and Mahito's, struggling to focus on one. Shakily, you lift your arms, readying yourself to attack Mahito. Even as you shake underneath your own fear, you still try to protect him – even if was in vain. 

"I love you," Nanami says to you, breaking your focus on Mahito and returning it to himself. Teary (E/C) eyes flicker to meet dulled hazel, and again, Nanami smiles. Your chest tightens, coiling with guilt over the lack of control that you had over the situation. "I love you … so much." 

"Kento," you breathe out, tears slipping down your cheeks. "I love you too, but--" 

Mahito doesn't let you finish your thought, and in a flash of crimson, Nanami is gone. Your eyes widen, your body stands as still as stone. The curse only smiles, then rounding on you. You exhale shakily, eyes flickering down to what's left of your husband before Mahito's palm hovers in front of your face. 

With closed eyes, you accept your fate. 

"You better fucking be here," you murmur to yourself, skidding on your heels and sprinting through the empty train station. Apart from your ragged breathing, the only sounds that fill your ears are the distant screams of the innocent and the garbled communication between curses.  

Halfway through a one-on-one fight with a low-grade curse, you had felt a prickle of energy across your skin. It was energy that you were familiar with, one that you had committed to memory for occasions just like the one that you were currently living through.  

The moment you felt it, you followed it. Choso. 

You nearly roll your ankle as you skid to a stop, eyes having caught sight of what you had been so desperately searching for. He’s looking around for you just like you had been for him, and the moment your eyes meet, you’re running at each other.  

His arms are around you the moment that you brush against him, tugging you against his chest and burying his nose into your hair.  

You don’t mind being crushed against him, not when you had been out-of-your-mind worried about him since you’d stepped foot in the Shibuya station. 

“(Y/N),” Choso murmurs into your hair, squeezing you tighter as he screws his eyes shut. Your nails bite into his back, bunching up the fabric of his shirt. He doesn’t care, he truly doesn’t. Not when you were safe, not when you were breathing.   

“I’m here Choso, and I’m not going anywhere,” you promise, voice muffled by the thickened fabric of his shirt. His arms squeeze you again, and a comfortable silence falls over the both of you.  

You could both go home and hopefully, just hopefully, you could forget about Shibuya entirely. 

It had been years, fucking years, since you heard that voice. Years since you’d heard that snarky voice either insulting you or telling you that he loved you — there was never a healthy in-between.  

And now, you were standing in front of him. Your ears were hearing his voice, your eyes were seeing his face. Toji fucking Fushiguro. 

But unlike the other times that you had seen him, this encounter was drastically different. He was trying to kill you, not bed you. 

“Toji?” you inquire with a tilt of your head, watching as the broad man stalks you like a lion would its prey. “Toji? What’s …?” Your words fall dead as he swipes at you, fingers closed around the handle of a weapon that you definitely didn't know the name of.  

You jerk back away from him, widened eyes flickering up between the weapon in his hands and his face – which for some odd reason remains blank; you can't read him at all. His eyes are a void, his expression completely void of anything that might even entertain the idea that he was human.  

With every time he lunges at you, you retaliate by taking a quick step back. Your eyes flicker up to Toji's face, and for a fleeting moment both of your eyes meet. His entire body freezes, eyes staring into your own as if you were an alien. The weapon that had been pressed against your chest is pulled away from you so swiftly that you barely process the movement.  

"Toji what the fuck--" 

"(Y/N)." The utterance of your name had you pausing, watching him as he straightened up, rising to his full height. The eyes that once looked like two small black voids are full of life now, their irises that very same color that you once spent hours lovingly staring into.  

How is it that he looked exactly the same as the day you lost him? 

You don't say anything as he steps towards you, his hands dropping the weapon that he had been holding so tightly onto just a moment before. Those same, calloused hands cup either side of your face, holding it just as tenderly as you had remembered.  

You don't know when, but at some point your eyes welled up with tears – tears that Toji thumbs away. He stares down so softly at you, a stark contrast to the hatred that had filled his eyes just seconds before. This was the Toji you remembered, not whatever had attacked you. 

There were very few things that you feared in the world. Being a sorcerer had done that to you, had worn down your ability to feel true, genuine fear. But now? Right now? 

All you felt was icy fear searing through your body as if someone had dunked you naked into an ice bath.  

There was an endless pit where an endless pit definitely should not have been. And standing over it was the one person you had trusted with your life, even if trusting him meant simultaneously putting yourself in immense danger every time that you spent a moment with him.  

His hands are in his pockets, his eyes staring out over the destruction that he had caused with a proud smirk etched into his face. He holds no remorse, you know that he doesn't, but the calmness of his demeanor only adds to your fear.  

"Ryo …?" Your voice is laced with hesitance as you approach his back, legs shaking with each step that you decide to take. He doesn't turn completely to face you, but you notice the small nod of his head in your direction. "What … what did you do?" 

Sukuna sighs – a long and heavy breath that is riddled with pride over his actions. The lives that were potentially lost amidst his destruction meant nothing to him, and they would never mean anything to him.  

"I had my fun," he says plainly, turning completely to face you. He spares you no reaction even though he can so clearly see the fear painted onto your face. It makes him smirk, the tip of his nail running along the underside of your jaw. "Come now, I'm not quite finished with this body yet." 

You shiver as Sukuna walks past you, tearing your gaze away from the gaping hole right smack in the center of Shibuya. You didn't even want to begin to think about the lives that had been lost, how painful and slow their deaths must've been. How much did they scream? How many of them begged for mercy? 

You shake your head, dispelling those thoughts. Hesitantly, you turn to glance at Sukuna, noticing that he had stopped — waiting for you to join his side. You bite your lip, and regretfully, you move to follow him.  

“Hey, there you are. Someone’s been asking for you,” Shoko says with a barely-there smile as you sit up. Immediately, a dull ache douses over your body like someone had dunked you underwater. You groan lightly, pressing a palm against your forehead and glancing up at Shoko.  

“Really?” you murmur weakly, rolling your shoulders as Shoko takes a step back. Ino stands behind her, his arms and legs bandaged just like yours were. His face morphs into relief as your eyes meet his — and even though he stumbles over his own feet, he beelines for you.  

He’s careful not to accidentally upset any of your injuries as he tugs you into his arms, crushing you against his chest and burying his nose into your hair. He can feel you shudder against him, your own arms returning his bone-crushing embrace with one of his own. 

“You’re okay. Holy fuck you’re okay,” Ino murmurs into your hair, barely registering your hands as they comfortingly rub up and down the length of his spine.  

“Yeah,” you whisper into his chest, voice barely audible over the thickened fabric of his shirt. “Yeah, I’m okay.”  

Ino squeezes you tighter, then allowing you to pull away. His hands cup your face, thumbing away the tears that roll down your cheeks. He smiles, and his heart soars when you mirror it. Ino is quick to lean in, lips pressing to yours.  

You return his kiss immediately, leaning impossibly further into him and chasing his lips with your own. He breaks from you, much to your dismay, and leans his forehead onto yours. You can feel his shaky sigh as it fans out over your face, closing your eyes and savoring the feeling of his skin against your own.  

"Don't go anywhere." Ino's voice shakes as he speaks to you, the grip that he has over you momentarily tightening as he tugs you against him. You sigh, returning his embrace just as tightly and burying your face away into his shoulder.  

"Yuuji? Yuuji!"  

He turns at the sound of your voice, ears perked like a curious puppy. The tears sliding down his cheeks feel as though they've paused at the sight of you – stumbling over your feet as you reach him. The moment you do, your arms are locked around his neck, throwing yourself against him with enough force that he stumbles back. 

He hesitates, hands shaking as they hover above the small of your back. Do you even know what happened? Could he tell you? 

You pause at the feeling of his body trembling against your own. His arms were locked at his sides as if he had lost all ability to even use them. You slowly take a step back from him, noticing the faraway look glazed over his eyes and the way that he struggles to focus on one single thing – including you.  

Hesitantly, you lift your hands to his cheeks, palms laying against his skin. Your touch almost immediately brings him back to reality; you can see it in the way that his eyes snap to meet your gaze, wide and slightly fearful. But not scared of you, rather, scared of himself.  

"Hey, what's--" 

"Don't. Please don't," he interrupts you, shaking his head against your hands. His palms lift to lay over your own, fingers squeezing you in a way that silently begged you not to leave. You nod, steering his head down to yours so that your forehead can lightly rest against his own.  

Wordlessly, you nod. Your hands shift in position, arms wrapping around his neck again and bringing his body back to your own. His hands immediately go to bunch up the back of your shirt, fingers curling into the fabric in a way that screams 'Don't leave me'.  

And you don't. You stand there, closing your eyes and letting Yuuji cling to you as if you were the last bit of what could keep him sane – and in a way, that was exactly what you were. To Yuuji, you were a lifeline – a resemblance of the humanity that he continued to throw away the more that he switched with Sukuna. 

"I'm right here Yuuji," you whisper into his shoulder, receiving a loving squeeze in response to your words. "And I'm not going anywhere." 

“Promise me you’ll come back safe,” you say, squeezing Megumi’s hands and blinking back the tears that had slowly begun to gather along your waterline. He sighs, reaching one of his hands up to lightly cup the back of your head.  

He brings your forehead to his own, closing his eyes the moment that his skin comes into contact with your own. He can feel you shudder against him, a shaky sigh falling from your nose. “I promise you … with everything I have in me, I promise you.” 

But that had been hours ago, and you had no idea if Megumi was safe. You had separated from him shortly after that conversation, with you joining Nobara and Nitta and Megumi going off to find Yuuji. In the two hours that you spent fighting against curses and transfigured humans, you hadn’t heard anything about any of the others — including Megumi. 

“I’m sure he’s fine. He’s with Yuuji after all, isn’t he?” Nobara says reassuringly to you, nudging your shoulder with her own. You turn to glance at her, swallowing the lump in your throat and forcing your head up and down in a nod.  

“Yeah … I guess so,” you answer hesitantly, smiling weakly as Nitta places a comforting hand on your shoulder. The three of you continue walking, a comfortable yet uncomfortable silence falling over your heads. Surrounding you are the sounds of a distant chaos, bystanders scream, transfigured humans gurgle out grotesque noises — reality doesn’t quite feel like reality.  

You pause at the sound of something approaching you, both Nobara and Nitta stopping as well. Three pairs of eyes gaze down a darkened alleyway, and your heart stops at what waits at the alleyway’s end. 

Megumi’s Divine Dog. 

Its ears prick upward at the sight of you, eyes fixed on you in the darkness. Its tail flicks back and forth before it approaches you, not stopping until it nudges its head into the palm of your hand. You scratch lightly behind its ears, eyes flickering to Nobara.  

“You both need to go … I need to find—“ 

“No way. What if something happens to you too?” Nobara interrupts you, reaching out and clasping your shoulders. The shikigami barks angrily in Nobara’s direction, protectively stepping in front of you and making the brunette stumble back.  

“Nobara, I can’t just leave him where he is,” you insist, blinking back tears. “I have to. I have to go and find Megumi.” 

Nobara shakes her head again, and instead, she pulls you into her arms. You still, glancing at Nitta, who only looks away. “You can’t (Y/N).” 

“He sent the dog to make sure that you don’t look for him.” 

oh god, i wanna feel again

pairing - joel miller x !female! reader

synopsis - i feel like y'all already know. but then again, no you don't.

warning(s) - mature themes, foul language, canon TLOU violence, descriptions of depression, main character death, suicide

please do not read if suicide or mentions of the topic will trigger you. your mental health matters more than a piece of fanfiction.

word count - 0.9k

it had been silent for weeks now.

the miller home, that was what was silent.

the big wooden house just on the corner of the street that connected the residences to the main parts of jackson. the house with the hand-painted mailbox with the inking of the word 'miller' messily drawn into its side.

a house that you couldn't bring yourself to look at. every time you found yourself walking that block, you made a detour. every time. without fail. you couldn't even bring yourself to tip your head in its direction.

you didn't want to see the wisps of what could've been. the life that you could have had, the love that you could have held onto if you had been faster. if you had been stronger. if you had been there like you said that you always would be.

but you were a liar.

"m'here for you," you had said, leaning into the flannel that was wrapped delicately around the tops of your shoulders. "even if y'don't want me t'be."

joel turned back to you, seeing the genuine truth glinting in your eyes like the stars that you were both occupied with watching. your lips curved into a smile when his gaze met yours - just as soft and loving as the millions of times that you'd smiled at him before.

he'd leaned closer to you, calloused hands cradling either side of your face like you were the one things his hands were made to hold. you nuzzled the warmth that radiated up from his skin, smiling as he pressed a kiss to your forhead. his lips lingered, his breath fanned out over your skin, and he'd muttered a quiet, "love you" against your skin.

you couldn't look ellie in the eyes either. you didn't want to see the sadness in her eyes, you didn't want to see the slump of her shoulders, you didn't want to be reminded of what she had lost that day.

because you didn't just lose the love of your life. she'd lost her dad that day. and it was your fault ... it had always been your fault.

you didn't even try. you just laid there underneath nora's legs, her knees pressing into the center of your spine, keeping you pinned down against the ground. you had screamed, sure, but what good would your voice do in the face of a vengeful daughter?

nothing. that was the answer.

it wouldn't do jackshit.

abby still hit the club against the side of his head. still killed him. it didn't matter to her that you had screamed. that you had begged. that you had cried and pleaded and whimpered and shouted. it didn't fucking matter.

joel's blank eyes had stared at you, the sight of them forever engrained into your memory. his bloodied body laid in front of you, his fingers already pale like he had been dead for weeks. his eyes were puffy, blood clung to his skin, his chest was still.

as much as you didn't want to believe it, he was dead.

and you'd been right there, the entire time.

your mind hadn't shut up since then. whispers in the shadows that followed you, echoes of his pain, echoes of your pain. you heard your own voice every night when your head hit the pillow. you heard him gurgling, choking on his own blood. you heard the impact of metal on skin.

it was like a cycle. never-ending. always continuing right from the beginning once it was finished.

you just wanted it to stop.

guilt followed you like a plague. it clung to your skin like a leech, sucking away whatever humanity still remained in your hollowed-out bones. it didn't leave you alone, didn't let you rest. always following, always there.

the gun looked friendly one night. it wasn't yours, it was his. a polished piece of metal that he'd cleaned a night or two before taking that patrol with dina.

you reached for it, not really thinking. you turned it over, seeing his initals that he'd carved into the handle. beside it was a tiny heart, that had been your little addition.

"to remind you of little ol' me," you'd told him lovingly. he'd kissed you after that.

dragging your feet, you found yourself on the porch of the wooden house on the corner. the first time in ... what? two weeks? three? four? hell, you didn't know.

the inside was the same as the day that he left. it was still cozy, still warm, still the remanants of a home. everything was right where he had left it last, clean and organized.

you exhale slowly, standing in the center of the living room. slowly you turn in a circle, taking in the surroundings that seemed to mock you. they remind you of what you could have had, of the domesticity that you had been chasing for years.

of the love that had slipped through your fingers like sand.

the muzzle presses cold against your temple. it makes you shiver.

your finger presses against the trigger, caressing it like the cheek of the lover that you had lost.

one...

two...

bang.

the gun hits the floor before you do. blood sprays the wall behind you, some of it paints the floor beneath you. the breath that leaves you is quick, fleeting.

your hand outstretches, your mind goes blank, and your world ends.

but it didn't matter.

you had been dead for a long time anyway.

you had died in that room with him. the only difference was that only one of you had stopped breathing.

things were quiet now.

the miller house was quiet.

fin.

Read part two here!

His head was so quiet. 

Your head was so loud. 

That voice didn’t belong to you, nor did it belong to the pink-haired boy who stares at you with widened, scared eyes. His hands shake as they reach out for you, but there’s something that stops him from closing the distance.  

You blink, eyes heavy as something inside of your chest twists — almost painfully so. You lift a hand to the front of your shirt, bunching up the fabric and glancing up at Yuuji. He still looks downright horrified, but you can’t seem to figure out why. 

And suddenly … everything in your head was silent.  

In front of you stretched an endless void, the light diminishing completely before you could even process that it was there. You open your mouth to speak, or to yell for help, but nothing but a pathetic garble falls from your parted lips. 

“Hmm, didn’t think I would enjoy a brat’s body quite as much as I do this one.”  

It’s your voice, but at the same time, it isn’t. 

Yuuji’s heart drops to his stomach, widened eyes burning with tears. Now he knew why you sounded so different.  

Those dark black marks. 

Those rings around your wrists. 

That sadistic glint to your usually softened eyes.  

No. 

Yuuji stares silently, his heart now in his throat as he stares at you … or rather … your body.  

Your eyes flicker up to meet his own, and he can see the last traces of you being promptly snuffed out like a candle left out for too long.  

“Let her go.” 

A deep chuckle that feels so unlike you tumbles from your parted lips. Your head tilts back, eyes glaring down your nose at Yuuji.  

Yuuji swallows the growing lump in his throat, clenching his hands into white-knuckled fists.  

Shit. 

Do you guys wanna see this continued? I half-assed this in class LMAO.  

A/N - I don't really know what this is, but I randomly thought of this because of those fucking TikTok slideshows.

"And Yuuji?" 

The pink-haired teenager turns, eyes meeting your awaiting gaze. His lips curl upward in a smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners.  

"Yeah?" 

"Be careful out there." 

Yuuji's smile widens – if that was even possible – and he sends a thumbs-up in your direction. "You got it!" 

No, no, no, no. 

"Kugisaki! Run!" Yuuji shouts, hand desperately extending in the direction of his friend. His eyes widen as the sound of a slap echoes throughout the otherwise empty train terminal. He can feel his heart promptly stopping in his chest as Mahito continues running, only turning once he's skidded to a stop a few inches behind Nobara's back.  

His head turns, eyes casting a glance over his shoulder. A grin spreads over his face at the destruction he's caused, a childlike glint to his eyes as he watches Nobara's palm cover the eye that he had touched.  

You stare silently from your place, eyes wide at the scene that begins to unfold in front of you. You had seen this somewhere before, a muddled memory that featured different figures – but it was a dangerous similarity nonetheless. 

Yuuji freezes in place, watching as Nobara's eyes cast themselves to the ground, her palm still covering her right eye. Her expression conveys just how conflicted she is, but for a moment, there's a moment of acceptance.  

That's where you'd seen it before.  

A bright eyed girl with her entire life ahead of her and a boy who only wanted to help her. Then, just like the snapping of someone's fingers, gone is the girl.  

And left behind is the boy to grapple with the aftermath of her death.  

With a smile on her face, Nobara uncovers her eye, allowing Yuuji to see the veins beneath her skin. Already they are enflamed – both she and Yuuji know what is going to happen, and shockingly, she accepts it.  

Yuuji shakes his head, slowly approaching Nobara. He doesn't want it to be true … she knows that there's no other outcome.  

"Y'know … it wasn't so bad," Nobara admits with a closed-eye smile. She chuckles breathily, a tear slipping down from her uninjured eye. Her head tilts, her bangs flopping momentarily over her eyes before the veins in her right eye expand and explode.  

Yuuji stares, eyes widened in horrified shock as the body of one of his closest friends falls to the floor with a lifeless, heavy thud.  

You remember seeing that exact expression worn by another face, one that had blurred with time, but one that you had once regarded with a love so pure that surely anyone would be jealous of it.  

From your place behind Yuuji, all you can do is watch – just as you had done all of those years ago. All you can do is watch as he stares down at her corpse, just like another had done. 

But this time … 

… you approach Yuuji carefully. Extending your hand, you lay your palm flat against his back, turning him to face you while your eyes never leave Nobara.  

Her eyes stare blankly up at the ceiling, devoid of any and all of the warmth that once encapsulated her irises. You'd seen that before too.  

"I--" Yuuji begins, but the thought is cut off as a sob rises in his throat. His eyes crinkle, tears falling from where they had been clinging to his bottom lash line. His body turns, arms wrapping tightly around your midsection.  

You say nothing as you return his embrace, allowing him to bury his face away into your shoulder – likely not wanting to stare into the lifeless eyes of one of his best friends. "Shh." 

"Geto-san," Yuuji whimpers into your shoulder, then dissolving into tears. You screw your eyes shut, trying your best to mask the shaky sigh that falls from your lips. You turn your head, laying your cheek against the top of his head and squeezing him tighter into your embrace.  

"I know," you say shakily, swallowing your own tears, "I know."