#that's specifically linked to sorcerer powers
Note
I'm curious if you know of how the other casting classes, like Bards, Sorcerers, and Warlocks are seen in Loth-sworn societies? If it's mentioned at all.
Oh, this is a really interesting topic! 😃 There are some information on drow bards, sorcerers and warlocks in Drow of the Underdark (3.5e) - I find especially the concept of drow bard totally awesome.
🕷️ Drow Bards - surfacers often do not realize that drow have an ancient bardic tradition, "one that transforms the traveling entertainer, trickster, and storyteller of the surface into one of the most horrific taskmasters and assassins of the Underdark".
Drow bards are somewhat uncommon in drow societies and they often do not travel the world, but usually connect themselves to some noble House, join a theatrical troupe or become employees in various city locations for artistic performances.
Performing can be deadly dangerous to a drow bard, especially since drow tastes are notoriously fickle - bards who fail to amuse their clients sometimes find themselves a part of the next performance: "disappointed audiences are not shy about taking out their frustrations on those who fail to provide suitable entertainment. The fatality rate among performers is high."
Many drow bards study various means of death-dealing, including the use of poisons, and are skilled spies and assassins. Sornafein, patron of Matron Mother Zhindia Melarn from Menzoberranzan, was a bard - he was known to kill his rivals with strings of his instruments.
Drow artists in general are considered "even more decadent than typical members of their race".
🕷️ Deathsinger is a specific type of a bard, unique to drow culture. Deathsingers are rare and they combine their bardic skills with necromancy - they are able, for example, to control the dead through their songs.
🕷️ Drow Sorcerers - their position in drow societies is usually similar to that of drow wizards and arcane spellcasters in general. "Wizards and sorcerers are found in nearly equal numbers among the drow (...) and sorcerous talent runs strong through the chaotic and inherently magical drow."
🕷️ Drow Warlocks - "warlocks are not unknown among the drow, but they are seen as something of an oddity. The race's affinity with and connection to the Lower Planes is too great for them to not exhibit some sort of taint from beyond, and demonbinders are among the most common examples found."
Drow warlocks have "strong links to the Abyss and to Lolth, but those ties more directly bind them to Lolth's servants - her demons - than to the Spider Queen herself."
Also, I just found a curious thing about female drow warlocks:
If powers of a female drow warlock come from bargains with (or descent from) demons associated with Lolth, she can be considered blessed by the Spider Queen. If such a female meets all the other priesthood requirements, she can have the status of a priestess, even though she is technically an arcane spellcaster.
Apparently, this is one exception to the rule that all drow priestesses must be divine spellcasters. Such "warlock priestessess" are rare, though. They are also expected to serve the church and the noble houses rather than to run them.
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It does have this fancy thing, though. You get a little bit of healing in the fit of a battle. That Wither and Bloom thing that I've been doing where I kill the grass? If you do that, you can get all your sorcerer points back. Not that you know what a sorcerer point is, but…
#criticalroleedit#critteredit#critical role#laudna#imogen temult#mgifs#c3e38 2h45m15s#I just think it's interesting that she's giving away an item#that's specifically linked to sorcerer powers#because Imogen 'will get more use out of it'#like what does that mean. why#also I think Matt said it's just 5 points not all of them lmao#but you get the gist of it
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HOW TO BE A DOG. | S. GOJO | PART 2
⊹ general tags ; fem + afab!reader, reader presents femininely and has some specific character traits (i.e. personality traits, nothing physical), reader is shorter / smaller than gojo but nothing specified, reader is a teacher, gojo carries reader at some point (but he is canonly able to do very insane things physically so)
⊹ content warnings ; dead dove. do not eat, yandere gojo satoru, manipulation, stalking, obsessive behavior, delusional behavior, workplace harassment (not from gojo), victim blaming, canon typical violence, graphic depictions of murder, minor character death, excessive religious imagery, coercion, gaslighting, abuse of power, something akin to stockholm syndrome, graphic depiction of noncon / sexual content, forced intimacy, fingering, hickies / bruises, begging, edging, loss of virginity, size kink, 18+.
all sexual content present in this part.
MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING FOR GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF NONCON, COERCION, AND SEXUAL VIOLENCE.
⊹ wc ; 18.4k / 36.1k
link to extended authors note | ao3 | how to be a dog, by andrew kane.
LINK TO PART ONE.
⊹ a/n ; here's part two!! miss ame has read it so im all good to post. i will upload to ao3 as soon as im awake i promise lol. hope you enjoy the fic and please heed the tags. likes and rbs always appreciated. also the last part is, relatively tame. the crazy gets amped up to ten so be careful.
⊹ synopsis ; with six eyes to see it becomes clear, you are being watched.
"You must learn, once you have sampled the freedom of a life without a chain, that it is better to return and be chained again. Or you may learn that it is not—a fugitive is also a kind of dog." - andrew kane, how to be a dog.
⊹ PART TWO : SOMETHING TAKEN IS BORROWED. SOMETHING RUINED IS YOURS.
Snow is falling outside. The world is covered in white.
Gojo Satoru sits on his hands and watches the blizzard outside from his window. His apartment is dark and there’s frost on his window. He can hear the wind from inside, and can feel the cold chill of glass as he stands close to it.
Snow is falling outside. The world is covered in white. Spring feels like an innocent century ago.
Nothing’s changed, but everything is different. It’s starting to feel comedic. It’s so cyclical. He has two states of being. Being with you, and not. It dictates his internal world. He functions the same as usual. Repetition. Working, coming home, and waiting.
Gojo feels like he’s waiting. Perpetually waiting for time to set again so he can see you. There’s something in him only you can fulfill - an itch only you can scratch. Gojo is drawn to irreplaceable people, so perhaps it’s no surprise that he’s latched onto you this way.
There’s nothing to call it other than greed. Sometimes love, but mostly greed. A habit he can’t break free from. Gojo wants to see you. He doesn’t know why either. There’s not any particular reason. Or if there is, he hasn’t examined it too deeply. Gojo has always known in some innate way that he’s lonely. That his loneliness makes him untouchable - but not in the same way it might make a God.
The thought of doing anything without you makes paranoia creep up in his throat like bile. Gojo is that sort of lonely. Is it too much to ask to be next to someone, who never goes anywhere he can’t see? Monopolizing your time and all the ways to do it best take up most of his energy.
When was the last time anyone made him feel warm, in the cold white of winter? He thinks maybe he realized it too late, that he cares about you this much.
The reality is that Jujutsu Sorcerers are better off learning how to cut their losses. You love people and they die. You like people and they die. Gojo doesn’t think he can accept that from you so easily. He doesn’t think he should have too.
Does he need a good reason to want to keep you?
Gojo doesn’t want to make you hate him. He just wants to make sure you’re alive even if it means you might hate him. You might never understand either. Because you are still foolish, naive and human. Is that really asking for so much?
It makes him hesitate from the call to action. That instinct in his bones. He sees having met you as a blessing from the Heavens who’ve banished him. Gojo Satoru is not god. He understands God, but he’s not God.
No matter how much Gojo reaches for omnipotence, his long fingers can’t stretch towards it. Godliness is uninhabitable, an abandoned house. If Gojo casts his eyes on you for more than one second, he can do nothing but long. How can God long? Perhaps if he were more godlike, he could treat your inevitable death like a sacrifice. A martyrdom, or proof of your undying love for him.
Despite that, he understands how God's love can reach. Inciting violence to bring you closer to him is merciful. It’s only then you’ll come to understand it to the highest extent. That Gojo loves you after all, more than anything mortal in his world. He can hold all of you in his hands, keep you safe for the rest of your life. It’s what he wants so badly. If you just give him the chance to protect you - he could do it so easily.
Religion can be so much like a dog and its master. Maybe, you could understand Gojo’s feelings if you saw it as an animal instinct to protect you. Even if it’s a falsity, a fictitious tale, detached from what's true.
He doesn’t want you to hate him. He’s your watch dog, your keeper, your divine love. He needs you all to himself and he needs you to understand that you’re his reprieve. That in a universe decided by fate, the two of you are also red strings knotted together perversely.
He needs you. He needs you. He needs you.
Snow is falling.
__
Come Saturday, Gojo receives a knock on his door.
He’s usually sleeping in on the weekends, so he’s startled by it. School doesn’t start till later and if it was an emergency relating to sorcery - Yagi would’ve dialed him personally. He answers the door with sleep still in his, rubbing his eyelids as he yawns. He’s dressed in his P.J.’s with his hair messy and mind jumbled.
He’s not unhappy though, when he opens the door up to see you. You’ve got something in your arms, a bag it looks like and a look on your face that Gojo can’t decipher.
“Oh,” He says after registering who he’s talking to you “What’re you doing here so early?”
You sigh, deeply, rubbing your arm. That anxious little habit again, your eyes darting every which way.
“A pipe broke in my apartment. Like, flooded the whole thing. Spent the whole morning scrounging my stuff together a-and I called maintenance but they won’t be here for a while and.” You stutter as you explain yourself and Gojo stares at you in confusion “I need a place to stay but going back to my parents right now is gonna be so hard and plus there’s work,”
Gojo soothes you silently, putting a hand up.
“Hey, calm down,” He says first, smiling up at you. He reaches out to pat your head “I’m here. It’s okay. Slow down and tell me what's wrong?”
You sigh, closing your eyes and bracing yourself.
“Would it be alright if I stayed with you? Just for a few days, until I figure this all out?”
If God exists, maybe this is his way of giving Gojo grace. Gojo takes a minute to pretend, leans against his door frame and watches you fidget anxiously. He blinks at you, the way your teeth are pressing into your lip. You fold underneath the pressure of his gaze easily. He hums and haws.
“Hm,” He says, leaving you uncertain for as long as he can before you try to react. He’s memorized all your tells by heart “Well, there’s no reason not to, right? You’ll have to sleep in my bed though.”
He half-jokes, but not really. He waits on your reaction.
“Oh, uhm, then,”
He interrupts just then, raising his voice. You jump back.
“Just kidding! Of course you can stay with me. I’ll take the couch for a few days so don’t worry your pretty little head about it, okay? Stay as long as you like.”
You look relieved. It makes Gojo smile a bit watching you take a deep breath, leaning on the door frame as he stares.
“What?” You ask when you notice. He shakes his head.
“It’s cute when you get nervous,” He says, inhibitions lowered. You pout at him and Gojo has to stop himself from reaching forward to grab your face in his hands.
“You’re so mean,” You say with a sigh, arms crossed over your chest “I was really freaking out just now,”
“I know, I know - but it’s kinda fun watching you fuss. Dunno. Maybe it’s cause I’m sleepy,”
“You're wide awake right now!” You point out. He snorts.
“Noo, what? I’m half-asleep right now,”
“Gojo,” You whine, and he has to stop the blood rushing through his body “Let me in? Please?”
“Try Satoru. Sa-to-ru,” He says. You frown at him, sighing as you rub your face.
“Satoru,” You say, hardly getting the syllables out “L-let me in,”
He pats your head one more time as your frown deepens.
“Good girl,” He purrs, before switching his tone to a more lax one as he welcomes you “Come on in!”
Another sigh of relief. Gojo finds it fascinating that you can find relief in his presence. It speaks to how well he’s been doing to make sure he’s acting in accordance to expectations. Despite how easy the opportunity has fallen into him, he doesn’t think it’s time yet. You’re still skittish.
Still, he should get something out of your stay here. And he will, but he should let you settle in first. He gives you a hum as you shuffle inside, standing awkwardly in his living room. He shuts the door behind you and locks it up.
“Don’t be so stiff,” He says, waving a hand in the air before yawning “My home is your home. Be comfortable. Is there anything you need or wanna do?”
“Could I borrow your shower?”
Gojo feels something pressing into his ribs at the idea of you using his things - sharp and sinful.
“I was gonna shower this morning but, y’know.” You gesture vaguely. He’s quick to agree of course, nodding his head as he points in the general direction of the bathroom.
“Pretty sure our places are built the same so you should know where it is. The towels on the rack are all clean. Feel free to use anything in there and uhhh,” He scratches his head unsure of what else he needs to add. Though he’s certain he’s missing something “Oh, and I’ll give you some clothes,”
You flush at the sentiment. So maybe you do know what this seems like, at least on the surface. Gojo peers at you as you turn his words over, interjecting before you have a chance to refuse.
“Don’t say no,” He says, voice sing-songy. watching your expression morph into something nervous again. Maybe you caught it, because you certainly jump in your skin, but he switches into himself with ease. Over and over and over - startling you never gets less fun “Let me play out my domestic fantasies a bit as compensation,”
“That’s a bad joke,” You say, throat thick.
You want to trust him don’t you? He wants to praise you for that.
“Aw, c’mon. It’s lonely. Let me indulge a little,” He begs with enough lightheartedness that you don’t run away.
“Geez. I thought you were popular with the ladies,” You try and joke back, though it’s stilted and awkward. He can tell you’re getting prepared to squeeze to the bathroom before the conversation is too much.
“Old ladies do love me,” He says contemplative. You elbow him lightly.
“Stupid.”
He gives you a soft smile as you pass by him.
“Is there anything else that you need while you’re in there?”
“I don’t think so,” You reply back. Gojo watches you disappear into the hall, trailing after you silently. He waits, listening carefully for the sound of the shower to turn on.
When the water rushes, he follows you.
He almost has a conscious standing in front of the closed door. The water pressure in his apartment is a little higher than it’s supposed to be. The closed walls keep all the noise inside them, making it almost impossible to hear what’s going on outside. Even with heightened senses like him.
For someone like you, it’s probably impossible.
It’s knowing that he follows behind you, lying in wait. He counts up to 5 minutes as he waits, letting you settle into it before he puts his hand on the door knob. He finds it unlocked. He’s pleased with that.
You trust him, or you try too.
When he feels certain you’re relaxed, he opens the door. He could teleport in but it’s noisy. Steam plumes outward as the door opens. He looks around the bathroom. Your clothes are folded neatly, with your pants hanging on the rack next to you.
He stares at the fabric for a long time, contemplating what he has time for.
Ultimately, he suppresses whatever urges come up to do what he came for. Too many to count and even more that are risky to act on. Instead, he checks the tags of each piece, committing it to memory. After, he stares at the shower curtain until he’s sure he overstayed his welcome.
He leaves right after though, shutting the door just as quietly as he opened it.
The less you know the better. Gojo makes his way back into the living room.
He sits on his couch when he’s back. The sun hasn’t come up yet and he’s only turned on a single lamp for light. It’s hard for him to describe how he’s feeling. Things have been different for weeks now, but proceeding normally hasn’t caused him too many issues. Strangely the sense of routine has been grounding.
He’s been dealing with it better than he expected. For all of that restraint to unravel so quickly is funny.
But, Gojo thinks, that everything leading up to now must’ve been a sign. There are so many instances that befall him that feel aligned with fate. He’s naive in thinking you're different. He’s the only heir of the Gojo clan, the only one with the Six Eyes for nearly 400 years. He hears the water rush faintly through the walls of his apartment, picturing you trapped in those four walls. He thinks of how you met. Your proximity to each other.
It’s only now and in such circumstances does he think that you’re the due that the universe is paying back to him. Robbed of everything, of every joy he’s ever had - it’s both righteous and fair to take you. Gojo doesn’t want you to hate him. Not necessarily.
But they always say in sickness and in health. Through the best of times and the worst. If you were made for him like he suspects (like he knows, believes deep down) then he thinks it’ll be fine. As long as it's you. As long as it’s yours. Even if you cry or scream, what matters to Gojo is that it’s yours. That he’s yours.
Holding back is starting to be too much. Gojo’s never been the type to sit on his hands and wait. Being scared is so much like starving. Deprivation like that always threatens to turn Gojo to ruin.
But like anything he does though, he can’t take the easy way out. There’s a method to the madness. An order even among his most disorderly actions, there’s things that need to be done the right way for the best possible outcome. On less of a whim than it seems, Gojo decides that he’ll do his best to make that reality happen.
The thought settles in his body and suddenly he’s present again. He feels a pang of hunger in his stomach, causing him to stand to his feet. He feels lighter as he waltzes into the kitchen, whistling to himself on what he should make. Maybe crepes? He’s not a skilled cook but he’s pretty good at making those.
At the very least, he thinks you’ll like them too. He proceeds into a normal-ish routine. He follows the motions of making breakfast as he hums to himself silently. Grabs a bowl from the cupboard, eggs and milk from the fridge, and flour from the pantry.
He thinks to himself, immersing himself in the practical ritual. His comment from earlier about domestic fantasies was a half-joke at best. Gojo really does want to do this kind of thing with you, and he doesn’t want to miss the opportunity to play the part either. Even if it’s temporary. He’s giddy at the thought of doing this with you everyday, a warm fluttery feeling spreading through his body.
He grabs a whisk off of the wall as he dumps everything into an empty bowl, turning the heat of a non-stick low. He whistles a song he can’t remember the name of, cracking an egg on the metal edge.
Despite living in a nicer part of Tokyo, Gojo has yet to have an induction stove top. It’s not uncommon to have gas for smaller, cheaper apartments. Most of the stovetops in the Jujutsu Tech dorms are gas and Gojo has no issue using them. He doesn’t cook for himself often in the first place, so he’s never thought to complain about it or get it changed.
Maybe he should. Once you live here, it might get inconvenient. The thing about gas stoves is that they never heat evenly. It’s not impossible to work with, and the heat is easier to control - but induction lets every inch of the pan get hot the same way.
( He often thinks of the analogy for boiling a frog. If you put anything living in heat too directly, it’ll jump to save itself. But if you keep the heat tepid, gently raising the heat till it boils - it’ll let itself stay in the treacherous waters until the very end. It’s best to keep the heat even. It’s best to fix it sometime soon. )
The whisk makes a pleasant sound as it hits the bowl, metallic scratch softened by the presence of batter. He picks the whisk up and watches the yellow liquid drip off the edge, a hand over the pan. Still too cool to the touch, he clicks his teeth.
He waits, idly. The shower turns off, he hears, and feels his breath hitch. He has to steel himself, curb his enthusiasm.
Too much heat, and you’ll jump to save yourself.
Once the pan is hot enough, Gojo busies himself with cooking. It helps him distract himself, the monotony of pouring and flipping and waiting. He gets through almost 6 before he hears your feet pad gently across his hardwood floor, slipping into the kitchen with a towel wrapped around your neck.
You’re wearing what seems like the only clothes you managed to bring. Gojo wonders how long it’ll last you. Despite it, he notices the way you smell. How you smell like all of his fancy bath products and soaps. There’s a twitch in his sweats that he barely gets under control. He lowers the heat and turns to you.
“Morning,” He says. You giggle a little.
“Morning. Are you making breakfast?”
“Yes ma'am. The only thing I know how to make but,” He puffs his chest up “Pretty good, I’m told.”
You roll your eyes at him, but smile anyway
“Guess I’ll be the judge of that,”
“The audacity,” He says, full of theatrics “I’ll knock your socks off,”
“Oh, I’m sure you will,” You say, flippant and giggly. Gojo decides then, maybe, in its entirety. That he’ll have all of you and soon “Can I help with anything?”
“Get started on some coffee maybe,”
You nod your head and yawn.
“Sounds good to me,”
__
You decide to stay for a week.
More precisely, Gojo convinces you to stay for a week. That’s how long it will take for your apartment to get fixed completely. Concerned about inconveniencing him, you initially suggested 3 days - insisted you could find somewhere else or pay for a hotel for the rest of the time.
But Gojo insisted too. A week is more than fine (even longer would be better) and there’s no reason for you to go out of your way. Hotels are expensive, your parents live out in the countryside, and it’s not like you can’t board with a friend for a few days right?
But won’t that trouble you? Of course not. Gojo doesn’t mind at all. It’s like having a week-long sleep-over.
I don’t have the stuff I need. That’s fine. Gojo can take care of it. He already bought some clothes for you, an act of kindness. He can get the rest too. You can consider it a favor, if you really want to be sure.
Are you sure? Of course he’s sure. More than sure. You’re doing him a big favor, he assures with nothing but affection. Being alone at home is pretty boring, anyways. What’s sleeping in the same room when we’re neighbors?
Even with your unease, you agree to stay the whole week. You’re weak to being convinced, and hard-pressed on not fighting about things Gojo is adamant on.
(He’d be stupid not to notice how your earnesty makes you easy to exploit. It’s a good thing it’s only Gojo who knows.)
The first day passes quietly. You and Gojo go to your respective jobs and greet each other when you get home. At home, things are simple. Domestic. There’s no other way to view it. You graded papers and looked over lesson plans in the living room while Gojo got in his daily sets - TV playing in the background with neither of you particularly tuned in. Gojo sleeps on the couch.
(He doesn’t make it a day without touching himself. The proximity is too much, too stimulating, and even with all of the restraint in the universe - it’s hard for him to stave it off. What you don’t know can’t hurt you. Alone under the moon, he thinks of what you look like when you’re embarrassed and spills into his hand.
Eventually, he’ll graduate to watching over you. You leave the door unlocked because you’re naive and Gojo stands with his cock in his fist, watching intently. You squirm in your sleep but you sleep deeply - because despite all the noise, you don’t stir one even once. He stops it from touching you, so close to your mouth, to your skin. )
On the second day of living together, the clothes Gojo bought you come to his door. You’re not home when it arrives, so he waits until you are home to open it with you. You come home a little later than usual (parent-teacher conferences, apparently).
(“I have a surprise for you!” Gojo says, as finally comes back into the living room. You’ve returned from your shower, on your last pair of PJ’s. You blink at him softly, tilting your head to one side as he hands you a package.
“For me?” You ask. Gojo nods, grinning.
“For you,” He confirms. He walks with you as you set the box onto the coffee table. You stare at it for a minute, glancing up at Gojo. Your eyes search for your keys. Once you find them, you take the sharpest key and rip through the tape on the top of its sides. An unceremonious krrk sounds through the room, echoing in the dimly lit living room.
The clothes are wrapped in white, plastic packaging. You pick them individually, examining them closely. You look at Gojo again, more uncertain than before.
But Gojo shakes his head, nudging you towards opening the packages themselves. A promise to explain afterwards, silent in the air. You nod, confused, but do as he suggests. You rip the top open, dropping the thin plastic onto the table. More bags, this time clear. You repeat the action until the material flounces in your hands. You undo the careful folding for a minute, then stare at it.
“...Clothes?” You repeat.
“Surprise!” He says with his usual silly cadence “For you, free of charge.”
A lot of things pass over your expression. Gojo watches each of them carefully, amused. He wonders what you’ll do. What you’re thinking, it’s a shame Gojo can’t read your mind.
“How’d you know my size?” You say first, inquisitive but not accusatory. Gojo shrugs.
“Guessed. We’ve spent enough time together,” He says noncommittally. Your face changes, like you don’t quite believe him. But there’s not enough there for you to question him either. He can almost hear you narrate it in your head. The heart you wear on your sleeve, tender red and bleeding, thumps anxiously as you try to get a read on him. It’s not a sound he dislikes.
He’s been good to you. He’s just being nice. You shake your head, regretful of your own doubt for a minute. You force a smile, and Gojo doesn’t hate it even though he knows where it comes from.
The power of love, he thinks almost whimsically.
“This is a big box. How much stuff did you even get?” You repeat, noticing the contents are up to the top. He feigns indifference. Pretends not to know that he spent countless hours looking over it.
“Mm, dunno. Just whatever I thought you’d need.”
“I’m only here for a week, Gojo.” You mutter, hands grazing over the cardboard edge.
“So? Maybe you need a lot of stuff. I don’t know what women go through.” He says with a pout, lips together. Joking with you to lighten the mood, which makes you huff through your nose.
“You’re so dumb. It’s too much stuff,”
“I already bought it and I don’t feel like returning it,” He tells you, making it clear he’s not going to negotiate “Just think of it as a gift from Santa Claus.”
You snort.
“You even have the hair,” You reply. Trying to make yourself feel better in the process, Gojo gives you a half smile “Still. I feel like I’m really indebted to you, lately.”
“Yeah? You can count this week as one big favor, if that makes it easier.”
“I don’t remember Santa doing favors for people,” You quip. Gojo laughs.
“Change in management,”
You laugh a real laugh at that, and Gojo watches you turn the situation over again and again.
“Well. Thank you. Might as well look through the rest of it, huh?”
“Take your time,” Gojo says, before checking the digital clock on his wall “I need to go get something from the store. Just leave the empty stuff next to the trash and I’ll take it out tomorrow morning.”
“Oh, okay. Yeah. I’ll start on dinner. See you, Gojo.”
“Yeah. See you” )
If you notice all the clothes come in shades of blue, you’re smart enough not to say anything.
The third day passes in a blur. Nothing notable, but he’s content. You wear the clothes Gojo bought you and he’s careful not to stare while you know. He takes it upon himself only to do it when he knows you’re asleep, his nightly routine staring over the bare inches of your body in a dark room being a reprieve of his other desires.
On the fourth day, he doesn’t have the restraint not to touch you. Too many days in the same room and he wants access to everything already. He hates being patient more than he thought, but there’s a method to this - he has to remind himself.
Like taking out his aggression, he decides he needs more relief. Something to scratch the itch. With his infinity, you can’t feel his fingers ghosting over your legs. He checks if you’re wearing the other stuff he bought, settled at the bottom of the box. Not lingerie, but panties. Plain and cottony - white over your cunt as you sleep with your leg hiked up. Gojo knows you can’t feel him now, but part of him wants you too. He wants to know why you’re wearing them despite yourself. Gojo realizes too late that he’s interested in your misery just as much as he is everything else, and so far - that discovery has made everything all the more difficult.
On the fifth day, things proceed the same. There’s a routine you’ve settled into together despite the time limit on it. That night over dinner, you and Gojo spend time together. There’s not really much to do - it’s a Friday. It’s the first time neither of you are completely occupied with any one task.
You get to talking like that. On the fifth day, Gojo gets as close to opening up as he’s ever gotten in his life. Part of him isn’t sure why he does it. He thinks he’s seeking confirmation for something, but what that could be is lost on him.
(“So, you’re the only person left in your clan?” You ask, half-way through a glass of tea he’s sure has gone cold by now. The T.V. is on but muted. Gojo looks at you in the low lights, fighting his own sleep.
“Mhm. Technically, I’m the sole heir.” He replies.
“...Is it okay to ask what happened?”
Gojo laughs at you. You really can’t help your curiosity, but he still finds it amusing.
“It’s not a pretty story,” Gojo says honestly.
“That’s okay,” You say, voice filled with an air of innocence that Gojo has a hard time wrapping his head around.
“Most of them were wiped out. We had a lot of enemies, me included. A lot of them are dead, the remaining are somewhere far-away and have no combat abilities.”
“You included?” You pick up on, naturally. Gojo nods and smiles a little.
“Once I inherited my technique it was pretty commonplace. I went through a lot of assassination attempts,” He yawns in between, because this is an old, boring story “It took a lot of time for me to get strong enough to where I am now. But I got there eventually.”
“You say that so easily,”
Gojo peers at the frown on your face and laughs quietly to himself.
“It was a long time ago, now. I never really had a lot to mourn, except for when I was a teenager. I’m used to it.”
For a long time, you remain completely silent. Gojo almost thinks you’re going to cry. He doesn’t know how to feel about that. It’s proof of something. Of his ambivalence towards the idea of sympathy. Sure, it’s meaningless now for someone to feel bad for him. It’s a pointless endeavor, because Gojo is a selfish dick and the strongest - and he knows both of those things intimately. He accepts them as part of himself in the same way, he doesn’t know what he’s like without being frivolous. Without being the strongest. The line between misery and character is paper thin and Gojo hasn’t known it since he was born.
It’s especially pointless for you to feel bad for him, because he’s going to ruin that very innocence you hold in your heart before the week is over. He’s going to do it with purpose and conviction. He won’t feel remorseful about it at all.
There’s an irony to it. A dramatic irony that brings him closer to Godliness than he’s ever really been. Because Gojo knows that this conversation is confirmation that he needs you, just as much as he knows he’ll do anything to have you even if it means you can no longer look at him like this.
He wonders how long you’ll hold sympathy for him. He decides for now, there’s no reason to not lean into it. It makes him happy that you care enough to feel sad. Even if it’s pointless. He doesn’t remember the last time someone did.
Maybe when he was 17.
“You look like you’re gonna cry.” He says lightheartedly. Sincere in a way he hasn’t been in very well over 10 years. You sniffle.
“How are you not crying?”
“I never cry.” Gojo says smoothly, not blinking “I’m a heartless bastard.”
“That’s not true.” You say, almost exclaim, turning yourself to look at him so seriously. It’s cute, he must admit, that you’re so sure on his character “You’re not heartless,”
“But I am a bastard,” He clarifies, mischievous. And you pout, less eager to correct him on that
“...You’re not heartless. Clearly.” You say again. Gojo laughs, a real laugh. He can feel it preemptively, how much he’ll cherish every minute of this conversation. He hums.
“Oho, you almost sound like you’re defending me.”
“From yourself, I guess. I know you’re not heartless,” You say, with some kind of clarity that you have him figured out. Maybe you do. It’s a little shocking. It’s not usually how this goes “You’re…weird. But you care”
“That’s true,” Because it is, and Gojo has no reason to lie to you right now. “More than that, I’m hung up on the idea of the future.”
“Isn’t it usually being hung-up on the past?”
“Right? Usually, that’d be the case,” Gojo says, unsure of what to express “But the past is the past. I can’t go back to it. My technique is infinity. It means I can see infinite realities.”
You sound like the winds been knocked out of you “That’s terrifying,”
“It is. But you know, even in those realities, the past is the past. There are places where the past hasn’t happened. But it can’t be changed. It becomes part of infinity, when events occur. The only thing that can be changed is the future,” Gojo explains, though he leaves out so many intricacies “There’s a future I want to see. I’d like if my students could see it too,”
“Because of your friend, right?”
Gojo smiles.
“Because of my friend. And for less selfless reasons.”
“Like?” You ask, curious.
“I like being able to do whatever I want, without consequences. Being strong lets me do that. For now it’s up to me, but eventually, I can raise strong comrades.”
You’re silent for a while, again.
“Seems lonely,” You say, simply. Easily. It’s true, and he knows that. It’s the most obvious thing in the world, and you’ve said it with little regard for anything. Almost mindlessly, a natural response to such a sad story.
Gojo feels it again. Those stifling, pesky emotions that linger in the cavity of his ribs. He can’t bring himself to be honest, because when does he ever? But he does smile again, a little more melancholy than usual. You notice, certainly, but you have the courtesy not to say a word.
“You think so?” Gojo says, passive and wilfully ignorant “Does it make you wanna hug and console me?”
He offers it sarcastically, but you don’t tear your eyes away from him. It’s almost enough to shake him. Almost.
“...A little? You feel like a sad dog in the rain.” You say, too honestly.
“Jeez. Maybe you just miss Pokupan. Thinking about another man right in front of me. I can’t believe I’m the other woman,” He says, with a faux pout.
You laugh, though it’s laced with sympathy. Gojo can tell you want to fuss. That you want to admonish him for being the way he is, and he’s almost willing to let you. That’s just the thing.
You see Gojo as human, still.
Gojo Satoru isn’t God. But he isn’t human either. If you want to know how God lives, asking Gojo is always viable. But you shouldn’t mistake false omnipotence for forgiveness, like you are now. You see Gojo for all of his humanity, but you're blind to his divinely violent tendencies. You will be until it’s too late.
So, Gojo doesn’t think you need to comfort him how you’re thinking you should. Gojo wants you to depend on him. Because coveting you is an affair distinctly inhuman and crueler than even the heavens could be and he believes that you’re owed to him.
Gojo wants to protect this version of you, even at the sake of corrupting it. He doesn’t want to let you go ever, for any reason. And he wont.
He turns the heat up gently. You’re none-the-wiser. The night swallows you both, but Gojo will remain untouched. He’ll hold you when it inevitably spits you back out. When reality washes into you, you should’ve trusted your gut after all.
For now, he smiles at you.
“If it’s any consolation, I’d be very sad if you disappeared.” Which Gojo hopes you can interpret without his interference. It seems like you do, because you smile to yourself.
“Me too,” You reply. Gojo knows he’s going to ruin you. “I’d be really sad if you disappeared, Gojo. So, don’t, okay?”
And if Gojo were an honest person, or a good one - he’d tell you you’re the last person who should worry about missing him. That you’ll be seeing him for a long time.
But he’s neither, just like he’s not god or man. He lightens his tone and holds out his pinky, which you link with his.
“Scouts honor,”
When he’s ready to look away, you pull a bare thread from Gojo’s clothes. Frowning at him, as you dust away the fabric with your hand. He stares at you.
“What was that?”
“You had a thread loose,” You say simply, unconcerned with anything “I just pulled it off.”
Gojo stares.
“Yeah. Thanks.”)
The sixth day passes quickly. Gojo doesn’t think there’s anything worthy of saying. By then the routine is so practiced and so constant. The sixth day passes like a shadow in the night, disappearing through the woods before morning comes. A stepping stone.
Today is the 7th day.
On the 7th day, things are different. The same but different as they so often are. You don’t have work today, so you do what you’ve been doing. You and Gojo work in proximity to each other, share meals, and idly watch T.V.
Night falls on the 7th day.
Gojo wants to take part in the act of creation, as the sun dips below the horizon. He’d set this in motion when the week started and now that it’s here - the anticipation is too much to bear. When Gojo Satoru sets himself out to be conqueror, the universe trembles at the sight of him. There’s no sound at all. The night reeks of death, in Gojo’s presence it trembles. Too fearsome to speak.
Night falls today. Gojo starts his usual routine with less caution than he’s had the previous six. Where he usually bides his time and enters the room carefully - today he merely enters. He places his hand on the silver handle and pushes it open. A breath rushes from his lungs, adrenaline entering his system as he steps inside. His room has felt so unfamiliar to him lately, but like this - a sense of serenity washes over him.
He stares at you. With his Six Eyes, with vision clear as ever, Gojo looks onto you as you are now. You can never reconstruct a flower crushed under steel boots. You’re not mud or earth, not adaptable like the sea. From the moment he’s met you - Gojo has known you to be so much like a flower. Gojo has never wanted to take the petals off of something so much in his life.
And Gojo is in this instance, a natural disaster ready to pluck the root of you up from the ground. He’ll pick you up in a storm but return you to his feet. There’s a method to this. Gojo stares at your silhouette wrapped and tangled in his sheets, body so loosely dressed. Your visible figure rests easy.
The night is glorious and silent. Gojo watches on in some cross of indifference and utter starvation. He blinks, leans on the wall.
Like a call from fate, you start to stir awake.
Gojo moves towards you. He decides it might be easier just to join you in bed, so he gently works himself into the sheets.. He creeps towards you slowly, and re-familiarizes himself with the feeling of his bed. It’d be lost on him for a week, but your presence in it makes it feel especially brand new. The bed dips under his weight, creaking. You shift lethargically, turning your head to look at Gojo.
You look startled once you realize. For the first time in your entire relationship, it seems to dawn on you that something is wrong. Just a minute too late. He gives you a second to wake up. Your breath hitches, a stifled gasp as you greet Gojo’s expression.
The hunger in his stomach is gnawing. Gojo feels like he’s starving. He thinks doing this will only half-way relieve the urge. This part of Gojo is inhuman as the rest of him.
Gojo’s presence suffocates you so much in the moment, you can only barely open your lips to say your next words.
“What are you doing here?” You sound still innocent. Gojo smiles briefly, under the glow of the moon. He can see your expression clearly. Sleep in your vision. A sheerness to your skin that comes with rest. Your bags are packed, and your things are cleared from his bathroom. You’re still wearing the clothes he bought.
He knows he shouldn’t think it, but some part of him is vindicated. You’re leaving him today and Gojo finds abandonment to be the highest betrayal of them all. So, he’s vindicated. He licks his teeth, usual mirth coming back to him.
Then he talks, his voice tender.
“Getting my debts repaid,” And he means it, more than he’s ever meant anything he’s said “You owe me one, remember?”
It dawns on you. Realization flickers in your eyes before it twists into fear. Gojo wants to encourage it. A curse starts to form, like tendrils around you. You’ll leave it here when you’re gone in the morning and Gojo will have a piece of you left with him.
“W-what are you…? What do you mean?”
He’s shrill, almost, leaning close to you. His sudden proximity makes you freeze. You know better, know so clearly it stops you from running. Gojo is tempted to see if you’ll do it. If you’ll run or if you’ll thrash or if you’ll fight. He’s not particularly sadistic, but he likes you - and he’s curious to know what your reaction will be to something like this.
He eases you into it, He brushes his knuckles over your cheek as your heart sky-rockets like you’re being hunted. Gojo thinks he ought to be gentle with you. Regardless of how this is happening, it’s your first time together. Your fingers tremble as you reach up to grab his wrist. It seems like you’re trying hard to pull him off, and wiggle away from his grip. You ready yourself to give him push back and Gojo times it so that it seems like you’ll be able to break free.
But Gojo is strong. Stronger than you by a lot, and you know that by now. When he finds that you’re trying to escape him, he’s quick to grab your wrists with his hands. They both fit perfectly in his palms. He pulls them up over your head and your eyes widen as you feel his grip - near bruising (though he is trying so hard to be gentle) on your body. He stares down at you.
You look so frightened.
“Wh-what are you..?”
“You owe me one for letting you stay here, right?” He asks enthusiastically, licking his teeth. Your eyes widen “I’ll take this as compensation, okay? It’s a good deal for us both I think,”
“I don’t,” You squirm underneath him “I don’t—I,”
“Shh,” He quiets you, humming softly “Don’t overcomplicate it. Just wanna see you,”
Gojo watches you turn it over in your head. He was wondering about this. What’d you do in these circumstances. If you’d act like you always do, pleasant and pliable trying to do what's best. Damage control for what's coming.
Gojo pulls his hands away to undress you and yours fly to his shoulder blades. You heave as you push, mumbling something about how he doesn’t need to do this. Your expression is grief-stricken. Gojo soothes you.
“You can bite, scratch, kick, scream - whatever works,” Gojo says, communicating his affection as best he can. He drives his hands under your shirt, laying his palm flat over the skin of your stomach. He runs his thumbs over your sides, committing every inch of you to memory. Without his infinity, Gojo feels every part of you “It’s not gonna hurt me,”
You look like you’re at a loss for words. He gives you a warm grin.
“Maybe we’re going about this all wrong,” Gojo says after some thought “Is this your first time?”
You whimper, nodding meekly. Gojo groans against your skin. You flinch.
“Fuck, course it is. Shoulda known. Such a sheltered girl like you,” He adds the last part with a hint of condescension, watching your face curl up into a frown.
“Didn’t say it was a bad thing you know,” Gojo is careful as he pulls your shirt higher and higher. Your breath is being held, afraid of what’ll happen if you let g.o “We’re tied together like this. Isn’t that nice?”
“Gojo,” You say, swallowing something. Words that threaten to bubble up that you can’t find the strength to say. You’re not wearing anything underneath and Gojo feels a chill in his spine “Please,”
“Not wearing a thing even though you’ve been sleeping at a man's house all week,” He reprimands. He lets the material sit over the swell of your chest, just under your neck where it stays. He can see the outline of your tits clearly now, just enough light from the open window to illuminate your skin. Your nipples are hard, heaving. Gojo can hear your little heartbeat thump against your ribs “I’m not telling you off you know? I’m glad you trust me. Great job, on that really. But you really should be more careful.”
“Gojo,” You plead again, throaty. The sound goes through his system, sends blood rushing to his cock.
“Satoru,” He insists on, knowing it will take more than that to convince him “I’ll try and listen to your requests if you say Satoru,”
He doesn’t promise to stop, because he doesn’t think he’d be able to follow up on it. Still, with the level of desperation you show - Gojo thinks it’s worth it to gain something out of. You follow up his request almost instantly, lips wrapping around the syllables with a weak breath.
“S-Satoru,”
He gestures to take your shirt off. You’ve become more pliable, if only a little, letting Gojo see all of you completely bare as he tosses his clothes somewhere onto the floor. Shameless in viewing you, your instincts kick in to cover your chest. He clicks his teeth, pushing your wrists together again over your head.
“That won’t do,” He coos at you softly “I wanna see you. All of you,”
You hiccup, sobbing, Gojo reaches his palms towards your breasts, cupping them gently. Your nipples rub against his palms and he groans feeling how soft you are.
“So pretty,” He admires you. Means it. Gojo lets his gaze catch on the edges and curves of you with enthusiasm. Your chest is sensitive to his touch, thumb and forefinger tweaking and teasing your nipples as you remain underneath him obediently. Your eyes look so watery, soft like lilies in freshwater “So cute,”
“Satoru, please, I don’t—don’t want—”
“So ungrateful,” He tsks. He smacks your chest lightly, enough to make you squeal “That’s the only request I can’t listen to,”
You hiccup, looking away. Gojo hums as he hovers over you, seated over your figure. He pulls his mask off from his eyes, material falling into his fingers. Grabbing your wrists with his palms, he wraps the material around them - tight enough to keep you but with enough room so it doesn’t hurt. He places your hands over your head gently, kissing your covered wrists.
“Don’t squirm too much, ‘kay? Stay like that. I’ll make you feel good.”
“I don’t,”
“Hey,” This time he’s stern, and you slink back into yourself. It’s the first time he’s had to use this tone on you and hopefully the last “What’d I say? You owe me this much, don’t you think? After everything I’ve done for you, the least you can do is not turn me away. It’s not like I wanna do anything bad with you, y’know”
A pang of guilt passes through you. You stop squirming. Gojo keens, baring his teeth as he smiles.
“Good girl.” He dips his head to kiss the place under your ear, where your neck meets your jaw. He scrapes his teeth on the skin so you can feel his teeth over your pulse “You learn quick.”
You keep your arms over your head like he’s asked, hesitant and stiff. Gojo can work with that at least. He leans towards you, tipping your jaw so you’re forced to look at him. Tear-eyed and whimpering, a shudder passes through him.
“So pretty,” He mumbles. He leans forward, presses his lips to yours - hand resting on the base of your neck. You make a noise of indignance but Gojo keeps you there. He eases you into obedience, forcing his tongue in your mouth, grazing the inside of your mouth.
He swallows every sound you make. Distress and frustration and reluctance lend themselves to giving in easily. Your body is sensitive to touch, a trail of goosebumps where his hands touch you. On your waist, trying to ease you into it.
He pulls away from you, a string of saliva connecting you.
“First kiss?” He asks. You shy away, clamping your mouth shut. Gojo chuckles, teeth nipping at you “Didn’t say it was a bad thing.”
You remain silent, so Gojo fills the space.
“Mm,” Gojo presses kisses down the curve of your jaw, all the way down your neck where he stops and bites - hard enough for something to be there tomorrow. He undresses the rest of you. You try to resist this time too, but Gojo doesn’t bother putting up a show. It’s easy to overpower you. He tugs your shorts off with your panties and tosses them somewhere. Unceremonious and uncharacteristically impatient.
He takes his time now that you’re all naked. It’s thrilling to watch distress fill your lungs, a ballooned breath and muffled protest. Gojo sucks hickies into your bare skin. It’s only fair to give you something to look at while you’re departed. Your blood rushes, capillaries breaking under the hardness of his incisors - ridges pushed against your delicate skin. He licks the bruises afterwards, kisses them tenderly.
“Gonna be a little sore for a while,” He says warmly. You’ve hit the stage of grief where you’re angry and resilient again but one look from Gojo is enough to make you slink back “Might as well enjoy yourself.”
Despair flashes in your expression.
“I mean it, you know.” He offers, stating it like he’s trying to appease you “You should relax a little, let it roll off your shoulders.”
It seems like you register that Gojo is teasing you. He does mean it, about thinking you should enjoy it. Everything else is deliberate and you know as much. It’s good you’re starting to understand him a little better.
“Why are you doing this to me?” You ask hoarsely. Gojo is surprised by your question.
“Ah, it’s a secret, so you can’t tell,” He starts. He squeezes the fat of your chest in his palms, silver tongued and playful “I like things that I can keep.”
A flash of true horror washes over you and you almost go ragged in realization. Weakened in your resolve once glimmering so brightly, Gojo takes the opportunity to please. He kisses down your sternum, runs his hands across the sides of your chest. He presses this thumb against your hardened nipples, rubbing lightly. Gojo takes them into his mouth. He bites then licks like he licks a wound
It pleases him immensely when you respond. When you gasp in a helpless sort of way and go to cover your mouth in shame. A sense of delight washes over his body and he does it again and again. He teases, changes from sucking harshly to lapping oh-so gently on the skin. Over and over until your voice can longer be contained no matter how hard you try - sharp gasps and cries of desire filling the air.
When he thinks you’re worked up enough, he slots himself against you and nudges your legs apart. He can feel the heat from your bare skin against his body, clothed. How you tremble underneath him. He eases his hand down gently, fingers trailing down to your pussy.
You hiccup. A sob of defiance stifled with obvious arousal, forced from you so easily. Gojo laughs.
“You don’t wanna?” He pricks, intentionally. Gojo lets his middle finger ease along your slit, dragging his digits up and through - catching on your achy clit “Are you sure?”
It’s torture for you. Of course it is. A pretty, sheltered little thing. It’s your first time with something like this and he’s sure all this is too much for you. Even if you tell yourself you don’t want it, your body can’t refuse him. You can’t either, try as you might. That’s why your legs are spread and why you’re practically dripping for him. Gojo thinks of it as admission. Your clit is hard underneath the pad of his middle finger, as he rubs too light and too gently.
You cry out, pitchy and broken. Gojo laughs.
“You need it here,” He punctuates, adding enough pressure that you gasp “Need me to touch you here, hm?”
You shake your head at first. Gojo tucks himself against your chest, sucking the skin gently.
“Be more honest.” He encourages a mockery as he so barely presses his finger inside of you - threatening to touch but never doing it “What do you want?”
“Don’t, I don’t.” You say, or you try.
“Liar,” He snips playfully against your clavicle “Your pretty little pussy is dripping wet and you want me to believe that?”
Gojo smacks your cunt softly. Once, then twice, then three times for good measure as you cry.
“C’mon,” He encourages meanly “Tell me what you really want.”
It’s a sick little mind game that Gojo is having too much fun playing with you.
“P-please,” You stutter, so unbelievably broken with so little done to you at all. Gojo will take all of you at a later time. When you’re thoroughly pliable and broken and so beautiful all for him “Please.”
So dependent like Gojo always thinks you should be.
“Please what, hm? What are you asking for?”
You swallow thickly. All your dread and doubt and disbelief gone as a sense of real and true need ignites within you. Of course this is too much for you. Gojo overwhelmed you like this on purpose. The resentment of wanting despite it all, despite how miserable you are makes for something so tragically Gojo’s. Whatever you have in your heart will always be for him. Good or bad, ugly or beautiful - like this you are all his and so perfectly too. It’s titillating, the sensation of control that wisps around him. It strikes him like a hammer on hot iron.
Gojo wants you to say it. Wants your selfless little heart to beg for his mercy this once. You’ll understand some time later, that this is how Gojo loves. Selfish and twisted. Cruel. Intimate beyond mortal comprehension. All of him just for you, just like this.
Strangely, it's perfect. Gojo teases you some more. Toys with your clit and feels a pool of arousal rush and drip from your sore cunt. He hits it with the palm of his hands as you try to form the words. You tremble in his arms, a vestige of your will to resist.
You want to resist so badly, he can tell. But it hurts now to leave it alone and you want it despite yourself. It makes you so frustrated you cry. Limp, crystal tears down your face that Gojo licks up nearly immediately. Salty and bitter. Gojo kisses the apples of your cheek, nose nudging your skin.
“So cute when you give up.” Gojo praises sincerely. You sob somewhere deep inside of your “Be good and be honest. I’ll reward you, hm? How’s that?”
Gojo can feel the moment you give in completely. When acceptance settles over your hazy and contorted mind. You let the tides take you, curling into yourself. A sound like you’re in pain even though you’re not hurt.
“Please touch me.” You whisper, hoarse and defeated. Gojo laughs airy, peppering your face with kisses. You wince.
“Good girl.” He coos, dipping his fingers down lower and lower. Heel of his palms pressed into your swollen, needy clit “That’s all you had to do. Easy, right?”
You scowl at him (you try too).
“Open your legs, baby,”
You listen this time, opening your legs wide enough for him to touch. Your pussy is so wet for him. Sticky and soft like you’ll fall apart, Gojo thinks it feels divine, wants to squeeze and grope and touch until you’re disintegrated. He likes feeling you like this. Vocal chords strung tight, all the noises throaty and gone. You throb against him like you’re begging. Gojo doesn’t stand to let you acclimate, flipping between three fingers in a gentle rub to a soft and well-practiced spank.
Only when your words start to come out t0gether, like you’re spitting them out because they fill your mouth too quick - does Gojo bless you with any mercy. He lets his hands sink lower, deeper - until his middle finger brushes your twitching hole. Your breath hitches, and the hands once stuck to your side, reach for Gojo’s hard to hold.
He licks his teeth, some unspoken feeling sending an bullet through him as he feels your body resist. Needy thing you are and so untouched that even the point of your middle finger makes your breath slower. You’re wet enough he doesn’t need anything else to aid him. He pushes in slow, slow, slow - painstakingly carefully as your wetness envelops you.
Because he intends to cherish you in his own way, he resists the urge he feels to flip you right over and take you. He’s being kind, and you’ll realize it later - when you’ve adjusted to him a bit more and know when to pick your fights. If he didn’t think it’d ruin the set-up, he’d have flipped you on your back just feeling. Fucked you without any consideration, just to feel your pussy around him in a vice grip.
It’s all he can picture, but he shows restraint. He’ll fuck himself off on you when you’re sleeping maybe, just to scratch the urge. You might pass out before then.
He comes back to you like that, a promise to himself to give the relief he needs with the body he finds oh-so tempting. He pushes his perversion aside to touch you. You let out a little sound every time he fucks himself deeper, gets his middle finger down to the first bend the all the way to the knuckle.
When he thinks you’re adjusted - ready for more, he gives it to you without making you plead. He uses his ring finger this time - his longest ones and feels you stretch around. He groans, deep and appreciative, as he feels how tight you are. You preen, squeeze your thighs together and call his name
“Oh, Satoru, its.”
He shushes you before busying himself with tasting your skin. Closes his mouth around one of your tits as he repeats the process. In, in, in until he’s all the way to his knuckles. Fucks you till it’s easy, till you’re wanting more.
If he were more merciful, a good man or a better one - he’d stop here. He doesn’t though. A third finger has your eyes widening. You gasp. Gojo kisses your face again and again.
“Easy, easy,” He coos, voice coarse but encouraging “It’s a good exercise for the future.”
You don’t register the words and Gojo doesn’t expect you to. Even still, he thinks giving you the heads up is quite nice.
Three fingers proves to be more than enough. It pushes you to an edge he has seen before. He fucks you with three. Your mouth falls open, slack jawed. Gojo curls his fingers. He rubs up like he’s motioning for you to come here, deep enough until he feels it. That spongy spot inside of you, apparent through the sounds you start to make as he touches it.
He hits something of a stride like that, finger fucking you with pressure on your clit and his mouth on your skin. Gojo takes to watching you once he knows he’s getting you to that edge. Your body stiffens underneath him, breathing going noticeably shallow. Mouth wobbly, lower lip trembling. He can tell you’re feeling it, just as much as you’re resisting it. Gojo coaxes you by whispering against your skin.
“C’mon,” He hums, nudging his nose to your neck “You wanna cum don’t you? I can tell you. You too scared? Need me to help you.”
You whimper “Aah, aah,” Gojo can feel you pulse. Can feel your insides tighten. He’s doing it on purpose, tipping you just over the edge. He wants to hear you beg. Wants to know what it sounds like when you beg for him. He fucks into you slowly, until you’re no longer able to put on a show of being composed.
“S-sato—oh, please, oh—please m-make me,”
“Want me to making you cum? Say it. Say, ‘Satoru, please make me cum,’ can you do that?”
A bitter sob leaves your lips and Gojo can’t think straight. It strains you.
“S-satoru, pleasemakemecum—please.”
Gojo grins. “Of course I can,” He quickens his pace enough to make you feel it. Your eyes shoot open before screwing closed again “All you had to do was ask me.”
He watches you intently. How you fall apart under his fingers, delirious whimpers of no, no, no - even though you begged so sweetly a minute ago. He hums as he feels the walls of your pussy start to tremble, a soft squelching sound hastened now. You say something he can’t decipher, words too jumbled for him to make sense. Gojo stares hard. Lets the infinity bleed away so he can feel you just like this, feel you cum on his fingers despite everything.
He feels giddy to the point he’s sick with it, moaning as your hands grip at the roots of his hair. He kisses your breast tenderly, just over the latest lovemark.
“Don’t hate me too much, kay,” Gojo says, whispering, means it so you carry it with you because he can feel the resentment nudged so deep into your heart by now “Come on. Cum for me, sweet girl. Want you to feel so good.”
And so you do. You cry, scream - but the noise amounts to nothing. A cosmic thing, like you’ve been struck by a comet. Gojo fingers you through it, absolutely delighted at the hot rush of liquid that comes pouring out of you. Your first orgasm from him and you’re squirting all over his fucking wrists, soaking his sheets and his arms and his PJ’s with your back curved in a beautiful arch. You break apart in an almost violent way, like the pleasure’s vicious. It tears into you and you succumb with a whimper.
Gojo shushes you as you break down finally into a teeny, tiny sob. You must be exhausted because you don’t pull away when he comforts you, despite the little angry why, why, why that you whisper. You hit his chest softly. He kisses your forehead and listens as your breathing goes still and you fall asleep in a heart-beart, still curled up into his bed and too tired to run away or go anywhere.
He stays with you like that, relishing in the warmth of your body until you’re deep asleep. He flips you onto the side of the bed that isn’t wet, and presses a kiss to your forehead before moving out of the sheets. .
When he stands to his feet, it’s to collect the curse that’s gathered itself on the foot of the bed. It manifests as a white snake with blue-eyes. Gojo finds himself amused. Of course the curse you’ve made is pretty. Gojo grabs it by the neck, watching it as it pries its mouth open and bares his fangs at him. He grins, pricking himself on the teeth to see if it makes him bleed.
It hisses loudly before wrapping itself around Gojo’s arm. It doesn’t take any effort to subjugate it, sensing his power it stills with some effort. Gojo tilts his head as he walks out of the room, glancing at you before turning his head back at the snake.
“Better warm up to me,” He whispers in the dark, a contentment to his words “You won’t be seeing your mama for a while,”
—
Communication stills.
Radio silence, more like - a busy bunch of messages deftly still. Suddenly, a raging storm of grief and anger disappears. The morning after Gojo assaults you, he wakes up to see you off like nothings happened.
He mostly does this because he wants to see what you’ll do.
You spend the morning perplexed and confused. You eat breakfast with him. You sit at the table, contemplative and silent and Gojo chats away at you idly. About the news and the weather and the classes he has today. You chew your food but don’t taste. You listen but your replies are short and stilted - out of touch.
Gojo learns that when something bad happens to you, you respond to it by detaching yourself. Though yesterday you were hot and fiery, the day after you seem to be mourning. Your grieving process starts early, and Gojo thinks rather amused—that you remind him a lot of himself.
He thinks you’re a little closer now that you understand the apathy of losing something that can never come back. And once this whole thing is over, once you find yourself back here - he’ll tell you all about it. You get it now right? It’s painful to feel like you can never be the same.
They say that mankind was fashioned from their Lord. Gojo supposes he’s made you in his image. You look a little empty, and though you’re both so different - you can become close by having the same wound. You can understand him a little more this way, all while retaining your sense of resilience.
What is mankind not known for if not perseverance? Of course he knows, once you recover from your grief, you’ll return to your usual spitfire. He’s counting on it, counting on you to fight and run. Escape from him and never come back.
But that cat and mouse game is more than okay. Gojo isn’t looking for your obedience, really. You’re too defiant of a character. Gojo thinks it’d be pointless if you’d just stayed the same.
You need to have hope to stay the way you are. Thus, Gojo doesn’t plan to rob you of it. He figures it’s best to give you breathing room. After all, he has full confidence in his ability to find you. He could hear the rhythm of your heart a continent away and chase it down without thinking twice. But it’s better if you’re able to show him some resistance. He thinks of it like a compromise. That sort of thing is typical for married folks, he thinks. He gives and you take.
Eventually, you might realize that the endeavor of running away is fruitless. Maybe you’ll be clever enough to recognize that it’s not that you’re succeeding, but that Gojo is letting you. You’re definitely smart enough to do so early, but just stubborn enough to believe that there’s hope in spite of that. If you try hard enough, persevere a little more, etc.
Gojo likes this part of you. Always will. You always put your best in everything and this is his own way of nurturing it.
It’d be a shame to take that from you. Gojo has remained out of your sight for the time being to try and reinstate it. While he raises the curse up in his apartment, he watches you through windows and flitters into your bedroom to peer at you before disappearing again. He makes sure that you can’t sense him or that he’s gone before you can. The more ease you feel, the easier everything else will go.
Feeding the curse you’ve left behind in his house has been taking most of its time. It’s obedient to him since he’s strong, and it’s big now. Longer and wider and more sinister looking (he feels a weird affection for it, maybe just because it’s from you), more hostile. He’s been careful to maintain it. Too much feeding will make it overgrown.
It’s currently on Gojo’s floor, on a dog bed like a disobedient pet - all in a single coil. He has to be careful not to endanger you by making it too strong or giving it too much range. It’s just meant to be a showpiece - a prop at best and a scraped knee at worst.
He’s been building it up for a long time. Then, though, it wasn’t such a clear desire. He figured sewing seeds of fear in you would benefit you in a different way. But that’s fine. The means don’t matter as much as the ends and in doing so - he’s made this all sort of seamless.
It’s not a complicated plan, ultimately. He’ll tell the curse to let loose, freak you out a little, and eventually - you’ll call the only person you know who knows how to handle it. Gojo will save you, and when you’re finally caught in his arms, you’ll have a little reunion amongst yourselves. He’ll reprimand you (but only lightly) and you’ll thrash (but only for a little while) and then he’ll keep you by his side again.
Except this time he won’t be so quick to let go. He’s sure you’ll protest (and be all gung-ho about it). He’ll feign cruelty and push you to the edge. Whatever response you do have, he’s thought of a way to reply.
A way to tend to it.
Like any relationship, things take time. He’s not expecting this to settle right away - but he’s confident eventually it’ll work out how he wants too. Gojo can make that happen as long as you’re within view.
He watches you through the window as you come in from your classes. You’re dressed up today despite the chilly weather - a blouse and nice pants with bangles on your wrist. He wonders what the occasion is given the time of year. Your bag is hanging loosely off of your shoulder - having only just returned.
A sense of warmth spreads through him as he peers at you, a smile on his face. He really does like looking at you quite a bit.
The curse hisses at the sense of your presence and Gojo waves a hand at it to keep it quiet.
“Calm down or I’ll exercise you right away,” Gojo says coldly. It retracts itself. “I’m getting impatient, too, you know? It’s been a long time.” He says wistfully.
He keeps looking until you’ve effectively disappeared from his sight. He listens for you outside of his door. The sound of the building buzzer, soft footsteps, and the slight jiggle and turn of keys before you’ve gone in - sound by a dull thump.
He leans against the wall near his door where he was listening, eyes up at the ceiling as he turns over his options. He should wait it out a little longer. Giving everything enough room to mellow out before it picks up again is an important part of the process.
But he doesn’t know how much longer he can wait. Plus, keeping this curse around is starting to be troublesome. He’d much prefer you back in his arms, in his bed - all back to that kind domestic fantasy that he’d been thinking about again for weeks.
He supposes there’s no right decision, in this case. Just what he wants to do, versus what he should do, and some kind of middle ground he’s been spending too long looking for.
He stands to his feet, no longer leaning on the wall before glancing at the curse from the corner of his eyes.
“Today seems like it’s too soon yet too far,” Gojo pauses between sentences, scratching his head woefully “But it should be okay, right?”
__
At 7pm, the curse slips underneath the door of his apartment into the hallway. Gojo sits comfortably in his living room, one leg crossed over the other with his phone in hand, a warm mug of tea cooling on his coffee table.
The news is playing. A general and loose sense of anticipation fills him as he pays attention to the newscaster. Another storm is going to hit and the temperatures are dropping to an impossible low. Officials recommend buying bottled water and keeping warm as it continues to blow out.
There’s a soft hiss as the muscled curse squeezes itself underneath the tight crack of his door. It’s unfortunate he can’t monitor it directly. Though the instructions ( and subsequently the consequences of disobedience) were made clear - curses are greedy as they are stupid. This one in particular seems to be self-aware enough not to try to go against Gojo’s word.
So, when the time comes he sits patiently and waits. Watches the news. His ears itch and his skin pricks as he listens for the first whisper of your voice. He wonders if you’ll scream. You didn’t when he thought you should’ve but maybe there's a reason for you to do so now.
The clock ticks away. It’s unceremonious. Gojo thinks to himself that maybe this entire thing is esoteric. Capturing you is a tragedy that he writes to himself and he’ll re-tell it to you all the time in different ways.
The clock ticks. Again and again, the monotony is starting to settle in. Time moves slower than you could imagine. Like trying to pipe honey into straw, thick and impossible.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
At 7:02, a dog barks outside. It sounds cagey, and it’s not Pokupan because Gojo knows what that mutt sounds like. Nor is it cosmic. It does sound desperate, though - like asking someone to be let in. And if Gojo didn’t have such a pressing matter to attend to, he’d go outside and do it himself. After all the wind is frosty and the air is unforgiving and winter devours things so slowly it's painful.
Gojo can’t abandon his task. It’s too important for him to stick his neck out for a being he doesn’t even know. He hopes briefly that it survives. That someone lets it in before it gets anymore violent (or desperate or willing)
At 7:03, he reaches for the tea on his coffee table to drink it. It’s still piping hot, but Gojo can swallow it with his infinity. He does for a reason he can’t name. It’s just a compulsion, inspired by the fact it will probably be too cold when he comes back for it. He thinks, instinctively, that he should cherish the warmth in the glass despite the barrier that prevents him from feeling it. Ultimately it’s still milk tea. It will still fill his stomach and taste vaguely sweet where he permits. He ought to drink it when it’s warm even if it’s just an illusion.
The clock ticks again, this time to 7:04 and Gojo regains a sense of bravado that’s riveting. There’s a commercial airing now for a new type of kitchen gadget, an airfryer with more settings than any one person knows what to do with. The advertiser is enthusiastic and loud. He wonders what happens when it switches to the next one. Do actors on set feel awkward when the cameras turn off? He knows a thing or two about performing, which is why he finds himself so curious.
At 7:05, the first whisper of your pleading filters through the hallways. Though Gojo figures he’s not meant to be able to hear it - because however vague it is, the sense of shame that it holds is hard to ignore. Despite his urge to run to you, Gojo is reminded of the fact he is teaching you a lesson and this is all a show for you and in a way for him too. There’s timings and cues and calls, so Gojo lets your first prayer get passed through the winter winds. He’s sure it gets dropped off somewhere in the snow.
The dog outside bares its teeth and barks louder than before.
At 7:06, the feelings of fear and negativity start to weasel their way into his apartment. Through cracks in the floorboards and the aeration in the spackle - he can feel it come through his door and penetrate his being like waves of wind. With no barrier and no filter, your fear is a familiar presence in his life. It comes to a crescendo as he leans his head back on the couch and blinks up at the ceiling. He’s pleased with it so far. It’s proving to be just right. All the months of delicate orchestration have culminated into such a lovely overture. A symphony of sobs. It enchants him like a bird song, or maybe the whistle of a blizzard.
He waits for it to die down. He waits for it to start back up again. He waits for the sniffling to become sobs and for the sobs to become demands and for the demands to go back to sniffles. He waits for the dog outside to be let in because he can hear the buzz of the gates all the way from his apartment.
When Gojo has had enough of waiting, it’s 7:15 sharp.
He stands to his feet and walks through his door with not so much as a look back. The T.V. is still playing where he fazes out and he leaves it because this will be quick and easy.
You’re right across the hall. The walk is short. The building moans like it’s dead.
He stands in front of your door and presses his ears to it and there’s some semblance of an altercation. Mostly the sounds of shattered glass.
If you were any more familiar with this world, you’d know the thing is stalling. It has harmful intent but Gojo’s presence is too risky. If you knew anything about anything, then you’d know you were never in any real danger and even calling Gojo’s name when you hate it so much now would be pointless.
But Gojo has done his due diligence in keeping you in the fateful dark.
So this part is easy. He reaches for the door but it’s locked, so he teleports.
When he enters, your apartment is in terrible shape. The curse itself notices his presence but does not stop to act. He stops to take a look around. He figures you’re cornered and holed up in your bedroom. A trembling figure in the corner praying for God to save you.
Your house is effectively thrashed like there’s been a robbery. He’ll have to make up something in the report. Officials will come, but they won’t question his word. All the glass is broken and scattered and everything is torn up. Papers ripped and fabric shredded.
(The stuff Gojo demanded not to be touched has remained that way. Even he’s not so much of a monster to ruin your students' keepsakes. He’s sure you’ll look relieved when he returns them to you later. How kind he is.)
He prepares himself like an actor might for a role. He thinks of the lines he’s practiced and the way things will play out. This simple, choreographed tragedy. A manifestation of your fears. Gojo thinks that he is probably good at becoming the thing people love yet resent.
He’s sure you and Suguru would have a lot to talk about in another life.
He checks the time on your digital clock, left unscatched in all the destruction.
At 7:18, Gojo phases himself into your bedroom like he’s only just arrived. He hears you gasp in a sharp fear that quickly breaks into a sob of relief. He glances at you where he stands. He’s never been in your room. Kind of a waste it’s happening like this.
The first thing he does is check if the door is locked. When he finds that it is, he laughs to himself but covers his face before he turns to you. You are exactly how he predicts. Something curled tightly into your fists, fearful and backed into a corner. He coos internally. At what he's done to you. How this has played out.
It wasn’t enough to break you a little. This part is necessary.
Like he starts most interrogations off, he asks you question.
“Are you okay?”
“Oh, Satoru.” Your voice sounds shattered in such a way he finds it almost hard to stomach “Oh, it’s—Oh it’s you.”
“Happy to see me, huh?” He says, tilting his head. You close your eyes instead of replying.
“H-how’d you…?”
“I can feel cursed energy,” He says, and it’s not untrue “I felt something very strange in your apartment. It’s been a while.”
You still can’t find it in yourself to say anything. Maybe desperate, maybe afraid, maybe exhausted by your own paranoia - you relent.
“Yeah.” You say. Gojo can feel the curse grow impatient. It lets out a loud hiss and you gasp in fear.
“Hey, you didn’t answer. Are you okay?”
You stare at Gojo for a long time.
“I’m not hurt but,” You swallow thickly. Upon looking at you closely, you look exhausted. He feels a little sorry for you. He’ll let you rest for a while when you’re home “I’m s-scared.”
“You’re right to be scared,” Gojo says, and he means it a little. Not about the curse, but in general “It’s a pretty powerful class. A special grade, probably. You share cursed energy.”
You look agape as he relays this to you.
“Share…?”
Gojo gives you a look. He can feel the creature coming towards you door down, slinking across the wood slowly. A coy, soft smile appears on his expression as he reaches down for you. You flinch from his hands but Gojo doesn’t falter. He strokes his thumb across your cheeks, peering at your eyes and how they reflect light from the outside.
“It was made with your cursed energy,” Gojo explains very gently to you. You look at him in disbelief “Curses are negative emotions. So something like this isn’t uncommon. No idea how it got so strong, though. But that’s all your.”
He watches you closely as a wave of horror settles over you. A nauseous feeling that has you cupping your hand over your mouth like you’re ready to throw-up. He masks a smile, but he doesn’t condescend you. Not openly, at least. Not to the extent he would like too. He reprimands you like a teacher - a sensei and his beloved mentee.
“I told you didn’t I,” Gojo says nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders as you quell your own disgust at the thought “You have to be careful. And you can’t fight all by yourself, so you’re kind of helpless. What were you gonna do if I wasn’t around?”
You look like you’re going to cry. Gojo keeps going.
“You can’t call the police, you know. They can’t help you at all. Good for nothing bunch, really.” Gojo states, gesturing vaguely. He tugs his masks off of his eyes so you can get a better look at him “But you can rely on me if you need to. I’ll always protect you. Next time just give me a call, okay?”
It must dawn on you, just then, what exactly Gojo is doing. Or some extent of this is hitting you for the very first time. The look on your face is picture perfect. It’s exactly what he wanted. An understanding he’d be hoping for for so long it’s unbelievable.
“I’m the only one who can keep you safe, understand?” But he’s not really asking. You know that too “Can you nod your head and agree?” He pricks. You don’t hold back your tears but you don’t cry them either. You break down silently nd you nod.
Gojo reaches down and wipes them off for you.
“Don’t be so sad,” He says to you, and he means it because what a shame it would be to wallow too much on such a nice day. Winter is for warming up next to your loved ones, isn’t it? “I’ll protect you now.”
Left with no choice, you nod again slowly and clutch your pillow. Gojo kisses the crown of your head and leaves you to untangle your feelings.
Then, almost on cue, the curse itself bursts through the door. The wood breaks off with the hinges.
It’s really a weak thing. If Gojo was trying to keep his powers contained, he might’ve put up more of a fight as it lunges at him in your bedroom. It knocks over your things left and right but he’s mostly busy trying to muffle the noises so he doesn’t disturb the neighbors.
It’s as fast as a gust of wind as he strikes out, neck elongated and jaw as unhinged as far as it can go. This time, Gojo can feel the weight of its desire to kill. A rampant sense of bloodlust in it’s every action, Gojo dodges each attempt and swipe at him. He leaves a barrier over you temporarily so that it can do you no harm.
It doesn’t go for you either. He figures maybe it has some understanding of its own predicament. Desperate animals can be clever too. Perhaps those things have always been linked together.
But he figures a fair-ish fight is as much as Gojo can do to stave the thing off before he sends it off officially. Plus, he can feel you watching his back - like you’re trying to measure how strong he is. It’s a smart thing to do. You’re learning. It’s probably better to show you now, since there’s not much left to hide.
So this time, when the snake comes flying towards him - Gojo reaches his hands out. He uses his infinity to stop it in its place. A noise of anger leaves its mouth, a low hiss as it hits the wall in front of him. Wide blue eyes stare at Gojo, a predator with its fangs bared.
Gojo stares back, a predator with its fangs bared.
He uses a reversal of his Limitless, the infinite blue. The creature is pulled into him closely, crashing first into the space he’s created before disappearing into nothing but smoke and ash. It’s gone just as quickly as it happened. A curse so inferior, it can’t have been more than ten minutes to fight even with all the purposeful delays Gojo set in place to finish it off.
It’s gone now, the product of you and him. A weird part of him is sad. But now he has you, so he cuts his losses. Now there is only you and Gojo, and a ruined bedroom and broken apartment.
Gojo, who has no intention of enlightening you, turns his back to look at you.
“Don’t know how long it’ll be gone but,” He shrugs, rolling his shoulder and cracking his spine “But it’s gone for now. Some officials will be here in the morning but with the way this place is, you might wanna come back to stay with me for a while.”
This is all a formality. He’s sure you know too, but instead of turning away - you’re shivering figure wavers in the dark. You’re terrified enough to reach for his hand and hold it. You know what’s coming, but that knowing does nothing to save you. You were a victim to fate from the moment you met. Yet, you still look to him for comfort in safety because even knowing better, there isn’t anything you can do.
And it’s just like you, to want to trust and forgive him. To reach your hand out hesitantly and try. Everything is tangled up and you are terrified and Gojo Satoru loves you.
“Come on,” He says, encouraging you to get closer. He reaches over your bed to scoop you into his arms and you don’t do so much as protest “Let’s go home.”
__
Gojo brings you home quietly.
When he enters, the T.V. is still on. You are curled up in his arms. He has no idea how long you’ve been crying and about what in particular - but that’s okay. Tonight, to him, is something like an anniversary. Like any time before, he has no intentions to treat you roughly.
It’s a good night, he thinks. Even in the state you’re in, Gojo can only think of making it even more memorable. You’re an injured thing in his arms. A delicate bird with clipped wings, or a butterfly with a missing antenna. Without Gojo there to pick you up in all your broken pieces, you might’ve really fallen apart.
It’s reasonable enough. For someone like you, he’s sure tonight has been so scary. It makes him feel a little sorry for you. It makes him want to make it all worse before he makes it all better.
He can’t describe it, but there is something so right about seeing you like this.
All angry and resentful and volatile. All lonely and scared and saddened and somber. All Gojo’s forever, permanently through everything. He’s made you so completely in his image, something he’s always wanted to do. Maybe you’re a trial run, in its own right, of all the things Gojo will be able to do in the future. What he’s capable of creating with enough effort.
Gojo is gentle to you. Tender, as he carries you into the apartment. You help him turn off the T.V. and put the mug into the sink. He carries you too afterwards, rewarding you with a kiss to your temple, before pulling through the threshold of his bedroom.
Just like that, you find yourself again in Gojo’s bedroom like you were so many weeks prior. You’re weakened and exhausted, so willing that he is endeared. Like this, he hovers over you. Looks at your tearstained face and smiles so lovingly.
Regardless of everything that’s transpired, above all - this is a reunion of two lovers to Gojo Satoru. So in the midst of it, he wipes your tears and kisses your cheek and you don’t pull away. Now you’re so ruined you relish his comfort if only a little, and this time it’s perfect. It’s everything he’s always imagined.
He’ll give you hope and freedom and let you be. Eventually, you’ll come to realize you’ll always need him a little. And it doesn’t matter, does it? That he’s made it that way on his own. Because it’s true. It’s righteous and religious and godly. Gojo Satoru is not god, but he does understand the urge to make something that listens.
He kisses your soft cheeks and hums at you, nose nudging your skin.
“Still feel like crying?” He asks you. You blink up at him like you’re only just now realizing where you are. Some emotion overwhelms you, but ultimately you shake your head no. Gojo grins impishly.
“That’s good,” He says tenderly. He kisses your lips this time, and you kiss back. It catches him off guard but he doesn’t dislike it “You didn’t get hurt did you? And now we’re together again.”
This does seem to incite waterworks in you but you don’t look like you have the energy to cry. He doesn’t push you too much. Though it is fun seeing you like this, Gojo is grateful he has some time to cherish you.
“Scary world out there, y’know?” Gojo says between kisses. He adjusts you, your arms around his shoulders loosely “Hold onto me okay? I’ll make it all better.”
You whimper under your voice but don’t go to thrash. There’s something about you that feels limp. A spirit softened and dampened, like wet soil. Gojo is okay with anything as long as it’s you, and there is some part of this he likes too. How pliant you become under the weight of your fear, so tantalizing to Gojo he can’t help himself but kiss you. Riper than the fruit of Eden. Just as sweet.
He kisses you for longer than necessary. It’s intimate and hopeful. All tangled hands and pulling different parts of you up to his lips.The occasional press of his teeth in your skin, with his senses so high he can practically feel the blood rush through them. Your mouth is soft and warm, the breadth of mint on your tongue. He pushes his tongue past your lips but this time around, you don’t do anything to refuse it.
So accepting like this. Gojo thinks life with you will prove to be exciting.
He rests his hands on your waist and you don’t pull away from him. Such soft skin covered in a sheer layer of sweat. It’s making him dizzy to have you like this, to kiss you in his bed. Again, again, again. You belong here with him and nothing has ever been so true. The euphoria of everything is overwhelming. He can’t get enough of you. Even if in the moment he carved a spot into you forever and buried himself there, he cannot help but want to be spoiled by your lenience and affection. He can’t help himself but to possess all of you so even time cannot spoil iit.
Despite yourself, you touch Gojo back gently. Knowing you, it is a way to deal with the pain. You want to forgive him as much as you want him to save you. You hate him as much as you love him.
From the beginning, everything has been exactly like this. This was the end of all ends.
This is a lesson in divine truth.
You’ve made Gojo this way as much as he’s made you. If Gojo Satoru is to play as God, then he supposes you are much like an owner. Some part of you has made him love you unconditionally. A dog and his master. An animal with a love so violent it shakes windows. Gojo Satoru makes you love him through violent means, and like a dog left abandoned in the snow - your own empathy for his unconditional but broken love makes you protect him. It’s cyclical. It can never change because the universe has ordained it. Because everything Gojo touches is a divination from the heavens.
Where Suguru proves to be a lesson, you are the dues he is owed.
This is a lesson in divine truth.
More simply, Gojo Satoru loves you in his own way. Any loyal dog will chase its owner no matter how far they run. He lives for you, after all. He’s made you in his image. The difference between god and dog is nothing more than a matter of positioning.
You love him back in your own way. Because his character and his tragedy makes it so difficult to abandon him and your disposition will never allow you. You’ll hate and resent him. You’ll grieve and you’ll cry. You will want to turn your back but he will always come to save you. And who can love you so loyally as a dog undisciplined? Who can keep your sheltered being protected like a wild hound?
Spring was an innocent century ago. Winter is here. Gojo loves you.
“My birthday passed recently,” He tells you. You blink at him.
“Oh?”
“Can you guess what I want?”
You don’t do much more than nod. It’s not permissive. You just know better by now, and that too is not something Gojo finds himself pleased with.
“You don’t have to do any work,” He offers you as a reprieve, busying himself once again with undressing you. You’re still wearing the clothes he bought you all those weeks ago “Just don’t run away from me.”
If you notice how heavy the words are, you’re smart enough not to do anything. Even still, Gojo can’t tell if there's a purpose behind it. Perhaps you just know it instinctively not to.
He takes you apart carefully. Careful, thick fingers unbuttoning the front of your shirt. You’re wearing nothing underneath, and the sight of your bare skin is almost too much for him. The hickies have yet to heal, though now they’re yellow and softened by time. Gojo will have to leave more to bring back all the color to you.
He starts at your jaw this time, teeth against your earlobe. Heart in your hands, he knows your body a little better now.
And he takes his time with it this time too. Even slower than before. Even more consuming, even more adoring.
He laps his tongue against your soft skin and eats. Your skin is salty and sweet and Gojo can’t contain himself. He gropes you lightly, planing his palms over your shoulders and squeezing your breasts tight. He’s missed touching you more than he knows what to do with.
Even in being gentle, there’s little he can stop himself from trying to devour. You lay about him squirming as he undoes each and every part of you. He can’t pick which place to go and what thing to do first because he wants so wholly. It’s making his head spin to listen to your sweet and short whimpers. You spread yourself as you lay under him, hands pinned to your sides - demure and needy.
How different it is but the same. Something about how you’re clinging to him so desperately is making him feel sick with lust.
Instead of going any further, he pulls away from you momentarily. He puts his arms on your sides and flips you over till you’re on top of him
The sudden change in position leaves you gasping for air. Gojo gives you an amused grin as you fall forward - as he props himself up on pillows while you try and steady himself. He holds you close to him once you’re all set, face to face like this.
“Don’t run away from me,” He says, more seriously. You swallow. Gojo lets you up until you’re half-way over him. You’re so much weaker than him, moved and manhandled so easily. There’s a target on your back so often and Gojo loves being an arrow.
He kisses the side of your body as you stand on your knees beside him. His fingers hook into your shorts and panties, sliding them off of your body all in a fell swoop. He squeezes your ass slightly, spreading you apart.
“Look at you all bent over for me,” He coos, hands reaching underneath you to toy with your pussy. You whine, shuddering, clinging to his shoulders. “So pretty, baby. Prettiest girl.”
A hiccup bobs in your throat. Gojo moves his fingers lower and lower, familiar now with the feel of you. Your cunt is just as welcoming as he remembers. The idea of making love sends a shiver through his whole body. Blood rushes to his cock like a bolt of lightning in his veins. He pushes his middle finger into your twitching, needy hole.
Another sound, cut off by a garbled word of surprise, falls out of your mouth. You’re soaking. Ripe for taking. Gojo wants to fuck you more than anything.
He takes a deep breath, whispering to your skin.
“Fuck,” He laughs, giggling at the thought of it “I’m gonna break you, huh? Gotta be—shit, need to be extra careful with you, right my love?”
“Please be gentle.” You say at his request.
“Of course, of course but—” He squeezes your hip as he feels his middle finger go into you down to the knuckle. You roll your hips against him involuntarily “You just—you’d look so good so full of my cock, y’know? Been thinkin’ about it for weeks.”
And he has, means every word. You shudder at the confession. He quirks his lips as he fucks into you, relishing in those pretty little sounds that fall out of your lips.
“You like that?” He grunts, another finger to stretch you out a little more for him “You like when I tell you about all the dirty things you make me think about?”
Shame fills you, like Gojo’s lit a match under you. He can feel your heartbeat pick up. Is it the being so wanted or is it the crassness and humiliation? Maybe both. Sometime later he’ll pick it apart more closely. He lets himself talk you through it, so close to your skin as he whispers all the filth to you that he can. Confesses it to you.
“Weeks and weeks, baby. Couldn’t stop thinking about how perfect and wet you would feel when I finally took you like this. Gonna make it so good for you, you won’t have to think about anything else again.”
The promise sends you limp. When Gojo finally feels both of his fingers slide in and out of you with no resistance at all, he sighs lightly and pulls away. The loss of contact makes you whine, but he brings you back to his lap now, sitting with your legs on either side of his.
His cock, clothed and restrained in his sweats, swells against your wet cunt. He watches your eyes widen as you stare at it, lucid enough this time to realize what it looks like. He looks up at you, kissing the corner of your mouth.
“C’mon. You can look.”
He guides you to the waistband of his sweatpants. You pull his pants down slowly, looking up for permission (which Gojo gives in a loving nod) before taking his boxers off too. His cock is so hard it’s almost painful. The tip is a flush red, white hairs trimmed neat at the base and feeling so fucking heavy Gojo can’t stand it. He hisses as your hands reach for him instinctively, and you try to pull away before he stops you.
“Touch it, sweetheart” He encourages, wrapping your hand around it for you “Feel it? That’s all you.”
A flush graces your features. For a minute, it’s all love and nothing more. Nothing less. Too briefly for it to mean anything, but enough for Gojo to know it. You wrap your hands around his shaft and stroke tentatively and Gojo groans shamelessly into you, rutting his hips into the round part of your palms.
“Fuck that’s it,”
He looks at your expression, examining the concentration before chuckling. Your lip is poked out, eyes dazed. He pulls away from you, securing you close to him.
With the new proximity, he holds his cock close to you. Measure it up against your skin, against your tummy. He feels you against him, Around him, folds nudging apart for him, The skin on skin alone has him so breathless. A dizzy sort of feeling as he presses the tip of his cock hard against your clit. You feel like silk around him.
Looking at you like this, all helpless and needy, he can’t help but think about how easily he can overpower you. He’s stronger and bigger. His cock would be enough to split you in half. How he’s gonna make himself fit inside of you spins in his mind over and over. Maybe like always, your pretty little pussy will yield just for him. You’ll open and endure and take him so deep.
He can’t help appreciating it. Can’t keep his thoughts quiet from telling you.
“See that? How deep I’m gonna go?” He measures up to you. A hand on the bottom of your stomach, stroking his thumb “Gonna feel me right in here. You ready?”
You close your eyes and look away. Gojo grabs your chin and tuts at you.
“Nuh-uh. Want you to see. Don’t close your eyes.”
It’s not a question or a request.
So, you watch. Gojo lifts you up just enough to line up with your entrance and sinks you down so, so slowly on his cock. It’s agonizing how slow. It’s incredible how fucking good you feel. How perfect one sensation could possibly fucking be - Gojo could die here in complete bliss. He can feel the stretch of your pussy trying to accommodate. That sensation of resistance that sends him reeling, spine tingling and skin prickling with a heat so intense he feels like he’s going to pass out just sitting there.
And then there’s looking at you, which proves to be an entirely new animal. You have this pinched expression, a shocked little gasp as Gojo pushes through. A whimper leaves your lips. Gojo rubs his thumb on your lower lip as he eases you down.
“Hurt too much?”
“N-no. Just… feels weird.”
He laughs a little at your honesty, before fucking himself into you even deeper. Another inch and he really starts to feel you. Your walls feel like they’re sucking him and Gojo wouldn’t leave if it killed him. He groans, deep in his chest as you shake. Your grip on his shoulders gets tighter and tighter.
With one more smooth thrust, Gojo sits you down on his cock completely. He feels so complete like this. Everything in him is at ease feeling your insides spasm and melt around him. He sighs contentedly.
“Still okay?”
You nod weakly.
“Can I move?”
Your reply is nothing more than a whimper.
So he does, but he does so slowly. Just to get into the rhythm. He thrusts up slowly.
‘O-oh. Oh, oh it’s,”
He chuckles against the crook of your neck, hugging you close to him. He loves the way you feel against his body, the way your frame fits so perfectly into him. He rolls his hips up into you so there’s no effort on you to move. You whine that time, and he does again and again until your voice is a mess.
“Starting to feel good?”
“S-satoru.”
He swears.
“Fuck, stop that,” He swears “Gonna—shit, gonna cum right away. Moving so hold onto me tight, baby.”
You take his words for it. Gojo feels your soft tits pressed into his chest as he pulls your hips up and starts fucking up into you. Each time he does, he feels like he can feel all the way to the back of you. None of his fantasies could compare to the feeling of being this deep inside, cock nudging against that sweet spot that keeps making you fucking mewl into his ear. He can hardly take it as it is now, focusing hard on not cumming until you do.
Making it good for you is his priority. Always has been, but you make it hard for him like you do most things.
“Touch yourself for me, okay?”
You look at him surprised but listen to his request regardless. Gojo takes to fucking you steadily. He builds an even rhythm as he keeps you up, hands firm on your hips as he pistons you from underneath. The pleasure comes in waves, undulates as blood continues to rush to his cock. He’s so hard he can’t think straight but he keeps each of his thrusts consistent, lines them with the pace you play with your clit so he can encourage you to cum for him.
He can tell you’re starting to feel good when your mouth falls agape. He drags on your walls with each punctuated movement and your thighs shake and tense. Everything comes together so slowly but the pleasure comes at once. It’s a force that’s nearly earth shattering. All the planets aligned, everything in the same plane. Everything for him and for you. For the togetherness he’s created and chased after so long.
Now this part of you is all his too.
“Sa—Satoru,” You warn, your hands trembling and fingers cramped up with need. He grunts as he stares up at you through thrusts “G-gonna…”
“Gonna cum for me? Gonna cum on my cock? Go on. Know you can do it, baby. So good for me. Perfect for me.”
It’s all babbling for him now, the sensation hitting him in waves. Your mouth falls agape and you cum so hard Gojo can feel every fucking pulse. Squeezing his cock hard enough he wants to grit his teeth. He presses his mouth to yours instead as you moan out, unable to hold it in. He swallows every noise like he’s trying to embed them into himself.
You cum hard and fast and Gojo is so quick to follow you. Only seconds after you fall limp into his arms does he feel it - no longer able to stave off the urge to cum so deep in you it stays forever. To mark you deeply you never think of anything. It’s almost animalistic for him. Every nerve on his body is on fire as he shoots his cum deep into you, sitting you on his dick with nowhere for you to go.
Panting, he pulls back to gaze on you. He’s still hard as he’s twitching. He can’t hold off tonight, he doesn’t think. But he’ll give you a minute to collect yourself. He presses a kiss to your hairline.
He whispers softly as the night comes to a quiet, quiet still.
“I’m yours and you’re mine baby. Forever and always.”
You shake. And Gojo knows you well enough to know that it’s the resentment coming back in waves. But that’s okay, because Gojo loves you.
And with this, he’s taken everything.
EPILOGUE / OVERTURE :
Your senses are accustomed to Gojo by now.
You never thought such a day would come. You spent the first year of this relationship (if you can call it that, to begin with) in trenches so deep you couldn’t really tell left from right. So many things persisted as normal, but nothing was ever the same.
In that, though, Gojo stayed by your side till the bitter end. He nursed you back into health and sometimes treated you so kindly that you could almost forget who you were dealing with. Sometimes the weight of everything became too heavy. You think you love Gojo almost as much as you hate him.
But it doesn’t particularly matter what your feelings are. Has it ever, in any of this? You always knew that something was strange but you didn’t think you were so clueless. Blindly following wherever his voice took you.
The first time you try to escape Gojo feels like so long ago. That time, he let you go quite far. You made it out of the house and even went out of the country during summer. But you were sloppy and inexperienced. When he found you and brought you back home, you figured it had been a fluke. You’d learn from it. You’d do it again and that time you would succeed.
That’s what you told yourself anyway. It’s how this all started. Where you would run, and Gojo would let you before he started to miss you. He’d come and he’d discipline but it was never too cruel.
(You wished it were. You wished it were sickly and sadistic and tortuous. You think it’s so much worse to beg for mercy when you are sobbing from pleasure. For Gojo to coddle and sedate you and never yield. You think you’d prefer if he were just out of it. Just cruel instead of what he is. Which is knowing but certain. Justified.)
This has been the farthest you’ve ever gotten. You don’t think you’ve ever been this far away from home. A cabin in the woods where you lived peacefully for days. You don’t know how Gojo found you.
You had been so sure. This was it. It had to be it.
Your heart shatters as you hear him. Feel him in your bones so much it frightens you. The world is covered in a sheet of white, and your ankles are bruised and bleeding from where you’ve fallen. You’re cold and your heart is beating so loud - but no matter how much you run you can’t find any heartbeat to motivate you.
Gojo pulls through the thickets with a frown on his face. Blue eyes and black coat, his feet crunch the snow as he comes towards you. You crawl away. You try too, anyways.
Gojo leans down to your level, looking at you closely. He reaches out to brush snow away from your skin.
“My birthdays soon, you know?” He hums, not angry today. Not even wanting to discipline you “It’s not a bad place, y’know? The cabin. We can spend some time there before we go home. Might be nice. But we should get going so we can check on your foot.”
He reaches his hand out to you this time. Too injured to run, you take it and he smiles before offering to carry you on his back. You hop on, arms around his neck and don’t even cry. A numbness settles.
It is not the cold.
“Oh, look,” Gojo says, reaching his hands out “Snow’s falling.”
You suppose it is. Another Winter will pass just like this.
A dog howls somewhere far off in the distance.
#writing tag#gojo x reader#jjk x reader#gojo smut#jjk smut#noncon cw#yandere cw#manipulation cw#coercion cw
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Theory: Gale isn't a wizard.
He's a sorcerer.
"The Sorcerer is known for its innate magical abilities. Unlike wizards, who study and memorize spells from spellbooks, Sorcerers possess an innate connection to magic, usually through their bloodline, ancestry, or some other mystical source."
He mentions he's been in touch with the Weave since he was little, that he could compose it like music. That doesn't sound much like a wizard thing, who learn how to use the Weave via books and writing, and does sound more like a sorcerer, who can access it intuitively.
(Specifically: I'm thinking Storm Sorcerer: "Whether crackling with the energy of ancient deluges or pierced by gales and hurricanes, your lineage is a strange tapestry scrawled by a tempest." Not just for the pun, also because there's at least two pieces of early art [here] and [here] that show him using lightning magic.)
Mystra is intrinsically linked with wizards, not sorcerers; her in-game description talks about how she's all about knowledge and lore, and preservation and protection:
"As the mother of all magic, Mystra oversees the Weave and spreads arcane knowledge to mortal spellcasters. Her clerics preserve ancient lore and protect bastions of magical energy."
If she sees an incredibly talented young sorcerer, I can see her appearing to him, nudging him on to the path of the wizard to almost... keep some level of control over him? If he's doing things only by the book and not by his own intuition and power, he's a lot more controllable than someone who can start electric storms with his brain, y'know?
I'd kind of love to see someone hear about magical prodigy Gale and be like, "Dude, if you were doing magic innately from childhood, you're a sorcerer, not a wizard." I suspect his brain might melt a little, but what's one more existential crisis on top of all the others? And imagine him being able to really tap into his abilities once he sheds all the restrictions Mystra had placed on him!
(Disclaimer: I'm still in act 3 and I haven't played any D&D before BG3. I have no idea if this is larger-lore-compliant, just going by what I've seen in-game so far.)
#baldur's gate 3#bg3 spoilers#gale dekarios#gale of waterdeep#the wizard of waterdeep#or sorcerer of waterdeep as it may turn out to be#sorcerer gale truther
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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫 (𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬)
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞: 𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐓𝐨 𝐈𝐭
Larissa Weems x Sorcerer f!reader
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words: ~3k
chapter-specific warnings: N/A
AO3 link in titles
✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧
𝐏𝐥𝐨𝐭: High incident outcast schools were given a Protector, and, after the hell of a year they had, Nevermore Academy was in search for one. After many failed attempts, it was finally your turn to try and bring back the warmth the academy unwillingly lost many months ago. Do you have what it takes to gain the trust of the entire school? More importantly, do you have what it takes to catch the eyes (and maybe the heart) of the hopeful principal?
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: As you grew accustomed to the school and everything it had to offer, you started to develop soft spots towards particular people. Bringing a sense of home into every growing interaction you had and falling more and more for a certain principal that you caught the eye of became things you looked forward to as the number of days you spent at the academy grew.
✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧
✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧
You stepped onto the grounds of Nevermore Academy - a school in which allowed outcasts to be their full selves, a school that was heavily recovering from an attack that threw the building, the students, and the principal for a loop.. The grand expanse of the entrance alone was enough to intimidate you, but, as you went deeper and deeper into the school, you had a feeling that you couldn't quite place, a feeling you couldn't quite shake off. You wondered if this was how the other Protectors felt at this school, but the thought that it was just you brought nervousness to your chest. Deciding to brush it off for now, you pulled your cloak closer to your body and followed your representative towards the quad to meet not only the principal but the entire school.
~~
You became a Protector through Magiks - an agency that allowed outcasts and people with special abilities to take care of situations that were more dangerous than your day to day incidents. Your powers were strong as a sorceress - drawing the attention of higher ups in the agency and presenting you with the opportunity to become a Protector, when they decided you were ready.
That was about a year ago, and you had been to five other schools since then, not quite being a match but providing them with safety during your time there regardless. You had four months to bound to a school before you were forced to move onto the next - a rule you never questioned but understood because of the importance of finding the right fit. If the principal of the school or the Protector thought they were a bad fit before their time was up, they were swapped out early.
It was possible - finding the school you were meant to be bound to. You had witnessed it happen, after all. You'd seen the extent of what this did for people - they found safety and provided it for hundreds of others, found loved ones in more ways than one - it was something that (like all other Protectors) you craved to find.
Being a Protector came with its limitations and risks, and, because of that, your identity was hidden (with your cloak and concealing spells that covered your face and altered your voice) from everyone until the principal was able to find you outside of the school and receive the rest of your name - something about the power of The Fates and how everything, including meeting certain people, was bound to happen in one way or another. This rule never bothered you since you understood that danger could come from anything and the schools you'd been to held numerous events which gave multiple opportunities to be found. This rule never bothered you.. until you finally met the principal of this prestigious academy, Larissa Weems, and suddenly you wished to be found as quickly as possible.
~~
The closer you got to the quad, the more you could feel the bustling energy that every being gave off, hearing the rumbling that came from every voice in the decently sized area. Your representative had gone up to the principal to announce that you arrived then came to grab you. Though, the moment you stepped into view, a lot of the chatter died down as hundreds of eyes landed on your form, taking in the maroon cloak that hid your figure. This seemed like the first school that was genuinely curious as to what was hiding behind the thick fabric.
"Okay.. Good afternoon, everyone. Hello!" Your gaze hurried to find the source of the ethereal voice that graced your ears and landed on a woman to your far left.
She was stunning.. Her figure ran tall, but, despite that, she still wore heels. She wore a cream colored dress that stopped just past her knees with sleeves that ended in the middle of her forearms. Her neck was captured in a gold necklace and matching gold bracelets were latched onto her wrists. Her nails were a bright red to match the color that painted her lips, a color that contrasted the darker red you wore on your own. The light colors brought out her gorgeous sapphire eyes, a shade of blue that you could easily find yourself getting lost in. The outfit was topped off with a meticulous updo, white colored locks pulled and pinned with great care. She was a goddess, you thought to yourself. There was no other explanation that you could come up with, in that moment, that told you otherwise.
"I know this isn't the first time this has happened.. but I wanted to introduce her to you all, nevertheless." She brought out a hand and gestured over to you, "This is our new Protector and she will be with us for the foreseeable future. Be sure to treat her nicely and make her feel welcomed as she makes her stay here."
With that, you looked over the crowd and took the chance to introduce yourself, feeling the uncertainty and curiosity being emitted from them all. This would be the only time you'd be able to speak to the students and staff (other than the principal and unless you were found) and you wanted everyone to know that you intended to bring safety wherever you went. You spoke as you felt the vocal sigil appear on your throat, knowing that it would stay there until either your time was up or the goddess of a woman found you.
"You can all call me y/m/n." The softness found in your voice seemed to interest some and bring calm to others. "I look forward to being here and learning about you all. I've heard much of this school and I hope that I won't let you down over the course of time I spend here."
You nodded so people would acknowledge that you finished, and silence filled the quad. As you looked to your left, you saw a surprised expression on the principals face, soon being filled with appreciation and curiosity.
She turned back to her students. "If you see her around the school, don't be afraid to say hello. If you need any help or have any questions, consider y/m/n as another source of help depending on the circumstance."
You loved the way your name fell from her lips, laced with such grace and elegance that you wished to hear her say it again and again.. that you wished to hear her say your actual name..
With the announcement done, a bell rung signaling the start of the next set of classes, and she stepped over to you offering her hand. "Larissa Weems." She was close to you, close enough to smell her perfume and your mouth went dry. You took a moment to study it, finding the rosy tones and small hints of vanilla intoxicating. You secretly hoped she thought that same about yours, that the smell of sandalwood and sweet berries was addicting for her.
You took her hand in yours, noticing how soft it was, and shook it gently. "Larissa.. What a beautiful name.." you admitted - this brought a light blush to her cheeks. You adored the sight and loved the way her name felt on your tongue, planning to savor each time you brought yourself to say it. "I said before, but you can call me y/m/n.." You said, offering your middle name for the second time that day. With introductions done, your representative went back to the agency, leaving you at the complete mercy of the academy.
~~
The rest of your first day consisted of a more formal introduction to some of the staff as well as a tour of the grounds. While you followed Larissa around the grand halls and created an extensive map in your mind, you noticed that you caught a certain students eye more than the others. You stood for a moment and stared at the small blonde and acknowledged a raven haired girl that stood a few feet behind her, knowing that, as she looked back at you, she only saw the shadow the cloak provided over your face. She tilted her head in interest at you stopping, and you took the moment to bring your hand flat out in front of you, manifesting projections of butterflies in your palm. You brought your hand up to your lips and blew gently, sending the butterflies in her direction and watched as her confused, curious state turned into a joy filled smile. This action piqued the interest of the girl behind her and she sent you a nod of appreciation.
If there was one thing you understood about being a Protector, it was that you needed to bring safety wherever you went, and this school.. needed to know what it felt like to be safe again.. it needed to know what it felt like to be a home again. Little did you know, Larissa had seen the entire scene unfold. It touched her at how kind you were behind that mysterious form and hope started to build within her - maybe you were the missing piece that would make this academy feel alive again.
~~
That was three months ago (the longest a Protector had been there so far) and during your time, you found every secret the school had to offer. Secret rooms, passage ways, codes - it had all been uncovered to you. Some secrets, though, you held closer than others..
Like how Larissa enjoyed hot chocolate from the Weathervane whenever she found the time for it (a part of you wanted to bring her some when she couldn’t go, enjoying how the taste always brought a smile to her lips), or how she would get the chocolate latte whenever she had a rough night the day before, the espresso giving her the extra push to make it through the day.. or how she had slowly opened up to you more - both of your actions grew bolder, touches lingered longer and slight teasing joined the conversation whenever you two were alone - and how she gave you her trust as she saw you interact with the school, her school, more and more, appreciative of what your presence did for everyone, including herself, over time and seeing how much you truly cared, considering that the last Protector didn't do nearly as much as you.
She took note of how quickly you ditched your cloak, over the course of your stay here, understanding that Protectors were told to keep it on until they reached a certain point of comfortability. Though you still had the identity masking spell over your facial features and voice, she took time studying other features and characteristics about you - like your sense of style and how you gestured with your hands while speaking to her, or how gentle and patient you were with the students, being stern enough in your gestures to the trouble makers but soft enough for them to know they could rely on you, or how you truly seemed to listen and give comfort to kids who had a rougher day than normal, giving them a kind enough reset for them to feel better about their day.
Everyone understood your actions were limited, but that didn't stop you from putting every ounce of your being into making these kids feel safe again. You saw little glimpses of yourself in all of them which made the urge to protect and guide them even higher.
During this time, you also got to know the smaller blonde, learning her name was Enid Sinclair. You appreciated how she stayed in your company despite your inability to do much, loving that she let you listen and silently guide her in the right direction. You held her close, catching onto her feelings for a certain raven haired girl, named Wednesday Addams, before she had admitted the fact to you. You enjoyed how she waited for you by the main stairs every day after her classes, ever since your first interaction, to go on your afternoon rounds with you and how she would walk you to Larissa's office to give your daytime report afterwards, always making sure to say hello to the principal before leaving, knowing she wasn't allowed to hear your voice again yet..
The reports slowly became your favorite part of the day, being able to interact with Larissa in a way that you couldn't with anyone else. The more time you spent at the school, the longer the "reports" started to get, often followed by a bottle of wine after Friday's daytime report or keeping each other company until you had to go on your next set of rounds other times.
You sat on the other side of her desk, both of you recovering from a laughing fit from a story she had told you, your report from the day far over and long forgotten. You wished you could always hear that laugh, that she would always have that beautiful smile lining her features and meeting her eyes.
"You know.." she starts, closing her laptop and turning her full attention towards you. "I've.. noticed all you do for this school - more specifically the students."
"Ahh.." you let out as realization hits you. "Enid is a special girl.. she's a part of my day that I look forward to, even if we don't necessarily talk."
"It's more than her, you know.." she stated and, at that, you froze. She seemed to understand - though she couldn't see your face, she had the rest of your body to play off of. "You.. make the students feel safe. In the school surveys we do for every Protector, yours has come out with the best ratings. They enjoy seeing you and love when you pop into their classes.." She leans forward, resting her arms on her desk, making the distance between you two even smaller.
You catch a hit of her perfume, making your breath hitch slightly and unconsciously lean closer to her - something she picks up on. She slowly reaches a hand over to yours, holding it gently and stroking her thumb across your knuckles. You look down at your hands for a moment as a blush creeps onto your features, enjoying the warmth her touch gave you and the electricity it left on your skin.
At the sound of her voice, you brought your gaze back to hers. "You've made this school feel better than it has in ages.. and I really, really appreciate it, y/m/n.. No words can even begin to explain how thankful I am that you, specifically, are here.."
You took in her words, finally understanding that what you've done so far has made the impact you hoped for. You felt a pinch of nervousness radiate from the woman in front of you, but you could tell she meant everything she said in her next words. "I have a really good feeling about you.. I hope you can find more to look forward to here."
And with that she went to move her hand away, but you squeezed it, keeping it in your grasp. You acted without thinking, letting the words fall from your lips, "This is one of them."
Silence fell over the both of you, the energy in the room becoming charged yet comfortable after finally admitting things you both wanted to say. She looked as though she wanted to say something else but was cut off by your watch before doing so - your alarm going off to signal that it was time for you night time rounds, sending any students in the halls or common rooms to their dorms to retire for the night and ending in Wednesday and Enid's room, enjoying the company of the two girls before wishing them a good night with a nod of your head to watch over the quiet school.
You stood from your seat in front of her, knowing she knew what that sound meant from the other times you had spent hours into the evening with the woman, and moved your hands to turn off the rapid beeping, not wanting to let go of her just yet. You looked down at your hands once more and stoked your thumb against her skin, holding just this piece of her as though she the most fragile thing on the planet.
You softly brought her hand to your lips, planting a firm yet gentle kiss to her knuckles. "I look forward to more days spent in your company, Larissa Weems.." you admitted.
A blush graced her features as you watched her slightly shocked expression fade into a soft, genuine smile. You backed away slowly, keeping her hand in yours for as long as your reach allowed. Before turning away completely, you said, "And.. I look forward to you finding me.." With that, you left her office to do your rounds, instilling a big amount of hope within you both.
~~
With the click of the door shutting, Larissa looked down at her hand in awe. Though you had a masking spell on, this didn't mean you couldn't leave traces of the woman that lay behind it - you had left a lipstick print on her hand, and she committed the color and shape to memory, wishing for the day that those lips would find her own.
The sound of your heels filled the empty halls. The warm lights casting a golden glow along the stone features of the academy. As you looked around every corner, a part of your mind was elsewhere - a part of your mind was still with Larissa. You brought the hand that held hers to touch your lips, fully realizing the actions that just took place. This woman would surely be the death of you.. Suddenly, you wished for the day that she would find you to come sooner rather than later, knowing that time was running out for her to do so..
✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧
𝐚/𝐧: hello, everyone! This is my first fic and first time I've ever really posted my writing. If you follow me anywhere else, writing for Larissa Weems first isn't much of a surprise.. but I do hope that I can do justice writing for her. She's a beautiful character with an amazing actress and they both honestly mean a lot to me.
I've been wanting to put my writing somewhere for so long so I hope that I can live up to the expectations other amazing writers give you all. I'm still learning to understand tumblr so bare with me! I hope you enjoyed !
~ 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐯𝐲𝐧
✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧
#larissa weems x reader#larissa x reader#larissa weem#principal weems#principal weems x reader#principal larissa weems x reader#principal larissa weems#the protector#the protector series#crowravencrow
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Explaining the Origin of Megaten demons: ShikiOuji
I am sure that, if you played any Megaten game in the last 20 years or so, you ended up seeing this paper dude. His name is always stated as Shiki-Ouji, and he once shared the same design with the Demon called Shikigami.
The weird thing is that when researching Shikigami on my studies, i never found anything about this one so i put some detective work to find out about the origins of Shikiouji, the (yet another) dude who oftens repel physical damage in Megaten.
The creature is often describes in the series compendium as a powerful Shikigami, that only the most powerful Onmyoji could summon, and they have a vicious temperament.
When we talk about Shikigami, the first thing that comes to mind are paper dolls. This is no surprise, since Shikigami are summons Onmyoji binds to paper dolls or talismans, so they could interact with the physical world. This is also because paper is a very easy material to destroy, if things go south. Onmyoji are the equivalent of western sorcerer, that followed the Onmyōdō, a esoteric cosmology. It started in the 6th century in Japan as a divination practice, and evolved from there. I won't go into detail, because this is meant to be a short post. But materials about this practice are abundant on the internet.
The main concept concerning us here is the Shikigami. These are basically some kind of familiar, a spirit or demon if you want, the sorcerer could conjure to protect him or do his biding. The Cultural Alliance Brazil- Japan, which i already mentioned in other posts, states that:
''Shikigami can be Oni or demons, that should serve and protect an Onmyoji. Your abilities would be determined by the abilities of his master.
A Shikigami could assume the form of small animals, birds, etc... One Shikigami from a powerful Onmyoji could possess and control one animal. But only a real powerful Shikigami could possess a person.
When an Onmyoji is fighting another Onmyoji, they employ the use of their Shikigami. Some Onmyoji could spot the enemy Shikigami beforehand, and try to convert it to his side with magical powers. In this game, the converted Shikigami would come back to the old master, and attack with double the force. This pratice was called Shikigami Gaeshi.
Abe no Seimei is said to be the most powerful Onmyoji to ever exist. Some rumors say he had twelve Shikigami, while regular Onmyoji would rarely have more than one Shikigami at the same time.''
So, that is a rough definition of what a Shikigami is.
But, when researching this creature you would not be able to regularly find Shiki-ouji. The fastest method for him to appear, was the English Wikipedia article about Shikigami, which weirdly had this part about Shiki-ouji, but offered no source to it:
Having the kanji to Shikiouji, and some keywords, i found someone at Tumblr who asked the same question 6 years ago, in Eirikr's blog.
From there, Eirikr offered a link to a blog post writing about Izanagi Ryu Shikoku. Ryu Shikoku is an ancient folk religion and pratices from the Kochi prefecture. It is still practiced in the area to this day!
In this belief system there is the tradition of the Shiki-kui masks. Which.. bear a very uncanny resemblance to our paper guy, subject to this post:
These masks would be hang above the place the ceremonies of the Izanagi Ryu take place. They would have magical powers that could repel evil spirits, and non believers from coming to the ceremony and disturbing it. They would also serve as talismans, or paper dolls, in a simmilar vein the regular Shikigami pop image you have in mind.
Since they are used to summon spirits, bind them, and as talismans, these creatures can be, technically called a Shikigami.
With this knowledge in hands, i went to the Japanese web. And sure enough, i found this site: The Nippon Foundation Library. It has an article detailing the paper talismans used by Izanagi No Ryu Onmyoji, and their meanings, powers, and also explained a bit about Shiki-Ouji!
Here is what they have to say: (Please be warned that i do not speak Japanese, and used machine translation. Any corrections are Welcome!)
Shikē Ōji… Shikē Ōji is a spiritual entity invoked by the taisa during prayers for the sick and the "toriwake" ritual to expel evil spirits causing illness or calamity. Its birth is described as abnormal, and due to its excessively violent power, it has no place to reside. Usually, it is sunk in the pond of Tendō-nanta, and summoned only when needed to guard ceremonies, to pray as the guardian deity of ceremonies, or as a prayer deity of Jumon no hakase. There seem to be several types of Shikē Ōji depending on their purpose, such as Takata no Ōji for toriwake, Gotai no Ōji for prayers for the sick, and Ōtaka-shiki for insect prayers. Additionally, talismans such as Sangoku Arashiki, Chimura San Ōji, and Sakago no Ōji are handed down, and it is inferred that they were used according to the content of the prayers, although many details of their usage are unknown.
Using the powerful Shikē Ōji against humans becomes a curse. In Kochi Prefecture, "hitting a ceremony" is widely used to curse people. Many people use this term without understanding its original meaning. "Hitting a ceremony" refers to attacking someone using Shikē Ōji. While Shikē Ōji can benefit people if used for good, it can harm them if used for evil.
Talismans of Shikē Ōji, possessing such terrifying power, often have several incisions on them, each containing twelve notches, giving them a rough impression. However, unlike talismans found in mountains and rivers, they do not seem to have incisions for eyes or mouths. In this regard, they are closer to the cutting style of talismans for house gods and sacred gods. Here, one can sense the emphasis on the powerful nature of Shikē Ōji's talismans while also distinguishing them from strange monsters.
So, as you can see there is some key information about the creature here. But the most important ones:
1- It is bind to a talisman, just like other Shikigami. The text here explains it is a paper talisman with notches, just like regular ones used in religious ceremonies.
2-It has a powerful and violent nature, just like the compendium often indicates in Megaten games. It seems hard to tame and use properly without getting hurt.
3-Shiki-Ouji can be powerful and violent, but it seems they dislike being used to hurt people. Instead, they are better employed to use their magic to other deeds. However if you still use them in that regard, they will most likely curse you.
4-Their talismans have twelve notches, no incision for eyes and mouth due to their aggressive nature.
I am sure that, if we follow this trail we will find many more sources. Going by key words i found in this text, i found many other sites and books, but since i have no time now to fall a rabbit hole, nor do i speak Japanese... That is it, i think this is a satisfactory answer to where this Megaten Demon came from!
The real forms of Shiki-Ouji
The last thing in want to talk about, is Shiki-Ouji real appearance. Since we have a seemingly wrong impression of they in Megaten, since Kaneko took some artistic freedoms.
First and foremost: From the few things i studies about Shikigami, we know they do not have a real physical form. The paper talismans are just a way to give them physical form. But it was incredibly hard to find a Shiki-Ouji talisman, which was weird because it was so distinguishable. The main reason being that: Shiki-Ouji seems not to be believed to be easy or safe to summon, and also their talismans would be destroyed asap after use.
But with the description i got, it would be this one that matches it the most:
No eyes, or mouth. Twelve Notches, six from each side, and some incisions. Very similar to a regular talisman found in other types of ceremony. Just as the text suggested.
I got this picture from this book:
Tosa, Monobe Village: Shapes of the Gods
Monoba being the village where most of these rituals came from. The book is from 1999, and contains many pictures of actual talismans.
You can see that, aside from the head shape, Kaneko took some freedom with this design. The sources state that Shikiouji talismans should not have a face, nor limbs, since it was too powerful, and should have 12 notches. For some reason, Kaneko drew it in a human-like form, but the face still resembled the Shiki-kui masks. The earlier design of the demon was even more closely resembling the masks:
Shiki-ouji earlier design from Devil Summoner (1996). It was later repurposed as the demon Shikigami. It is almost an exact match to this talisman. I can not however identify the original source.
Shiki-Ouji current design by itself could have been based on this one talisman in specific, at least some parts of it like the head with horned-shaped appendages:
It was sourced by the National Museum of Japanese History, but the post went down. The low quality image of the talisman can still be seen on google, but the link is dead, unfortunately. It seems that this item is in possession of the Museum in Japan. Kaneko could have seen it in pictures, or in person. This one seems NOT to be displaying a Shiki-Ouji thought.
Maybe the Kaneko take is that Shiki-Ouji was summoned with limbs, and facial features and became much more stronger as a result? We may never know...
And finally there is also an occult book that i found in Amazon Japan that is called: Exploring Izanagi No Ryu: ShikiOuji.
It is supposedly a manual on how to practice Izanagi no Ryu, and magics. I could not find the book online, just the summary. But it mentioned nothing about Shiki-Ouji. Probably has some sort of tutorial to summon it, in fact i was able to find many of those tutorials on the Japanese web.
Now, that is it. I think this puts to rest a little bit of mystery involving the origins of this specific demon. Kaneko sure took some freedoms, but it is still one of the more popular and recognizable characters in the series.
Final considerations:
This most likely is the answer to its origin, but i am not some sort of owner of all truths, so feel free to correct me in anything i said wrong. I am still an amateur scholar, and even if i do know a lot about mythology and ancient religions because i read many books and study a lot of hours of my days, i am by no means a specialist in Japanese Mythology specifically, specially Shikigami practices. The reason is that, i find it very difficult and time consuming to research Japanese sources, since i do not speak Japanese. I will one day, try my best since there are a lot of good Yokai to cover in future Scientific Papers.
I can, however, guarantee that i did my best in a deep search!
And i have spent a lot of time looking through pictures of Shikigami talismans, and i found some really cute. Like this one. What a whimsical little fella...
#shin megami tensei#atlus#kazuma kaneko#blazescompendium#megaten#mythology#japanese folklore#japanese mythology#shikigami#megami tensei#smt
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Malice, Malevolence, Maous.
Kegare, Shinto Buddhism and how it gets reflected in Japanese video game writing. (Fire Emblem and Zelda Botw/Totk centric)
Gonna blab on a very specific aspect of Japanese Shinto :D. This is not talked about often despite the sheer amount of stuff out there so here's me talking about it.
So. It often goes something like this. The Hero gets a powerful magical weapon at some point. They fight through the Big Bad's army of mooks while they may journey throughout the land. Eventually, they, or the weapon mcguffin gets powered up by a higher power, and at the climax, the Hero/es comes through to take down the evil big bad Demon King-esque malevolent monster/dragon/non-human out, thereby succeeding in saving the world.
Any of that sound familiar? It should, for anyone who has engaged with just about any Nintendo media from Mario to Fire Emblem to Breath of The Wild.
This big bad character archetype is also known as Maou, or the Demon King. 魔王 can also be translated into Sorcerer/Magic King, but the negative evilness associated with it is more apt. TvTropes even lists this as a trope (link)!
The why they are often times taken down this way though, kiiiind of lies within Shinto Buddhism. (And by extension many of other culture/religion's concept of 'ritual cleanliness', but for this post I'm ignoring them! Sorry!)
I'll switch gears a bit to culture/religious stuff and talk about Kegare under the cut.
I think everyone who has ever touched any Nintendo or Japanese related media has ran into the concept of 'kegare', or 'spiritual uncleanliness' multiple times without realizing it.
Kegare (穢れ or 汚れ) is the concept of 'spiritual dirtiness'.
Translated as 'pollution' or 'defilement', to be kegare'd is to be dirtied in some form, often times through action. Generally speaking, kegare is a negative energy typically generated upon contact with death, childbirth, disease and menstruation. But it can also come into state through particularly powerful, negative state of emotions such as hate, jealousy, guilt and anger as well. Note that Kegare isn't by itself a moral or judgemental concept, but rather a force of nature. Kegare is not sin, and therefore cannot be seen as such!
You can think of kegare as bad vibes, bad juju, or even miasma. They're very similar concepts.
With enough bad vibes (basically), a place, object, or a person can be polluted so hard that evil spirits might manifest and cause harm to both them and their surroundings. Hence why Japanese media loves depicting places with bad vibes like the hospitals to be full of yokais or ghosts looking to cause harm.
This is why characters who harbor ambitions of taking over the world are seen as Maous. It's why characters like Hegemon Husk!Edelgard, Grima, Ganon, Mr. Grizz all fit into this evil, ambitious, resentful, almost force-of-nature-like beings who brings with them death to the world. Because they aren't just bringing death with them, they're about to unleash the largest tsunami of bad vibes they can into the world too!
But, the state of kegare can be purified away. There are 2 main ways to do so. Misogi, and Harae.
Misogi (禊)
By standing under a waterfall or washing the body with water, kegare can purified. Notably though, one must be dressed in white during this ritual cleansing. This specific concept is known as Misogi, and you might have come across it in botw already:
In BoTW, Zelda attempts to purify herself in order to unlock the power of the Goddess. By visiting important spiritual places and washing herself in its water in white, she's performing Misogi.
In Fire Emblem Heroes, Naga will suggest this to Kiran, the Player Character:
But misogi isn't exactly why big bads get the holy weapon whacking treatment. If you have noticed, misogi affects only the willing individual taking part in ritual cleansing. The real reason is actually...
Harae (祓)
Harae can mean 2 things. To drive out, or, exorcise. Consenting or not, harae essentially drives out or purifies kegare in another person, place, or object through rituals.
Harae can involve ceremonies, song and dance, using a ritual cleansing tool(!) such as the onusha.
As an example of the former, Azura in Fire Emblem Fates essentially embodies the power of misogi through her association with waters and purification. Here, she tries to exorcise the evil inside of Garon. She is actually performing harae!
youtube
As an example of the latter, the cleansing tools.... Why, it should be sounding familiar now.
Be it the Falchion, Yato, Fire Emblem, Breidablik, The Creator Sword, the Master Sword, Ocarina of Time, The Twilight Bow, they all share 2 very similar traits:
Be powered up by the good juju power/light
Whack the big bad maou with it, sometimes unleashing light in the process
In this context that I'm presenting, they are all tools of purification/exorcism. Sit down and think about this. Think about all the Japanese JRPGs you've played so far and see how much this clicks.
The Hero gains a weapon/tool/relic, powers it up in some way or is inherently already powered, and then uses that to smack the big bad and win. Sometimes the tools can be the heroes themselves, but it is often the very similar song and dance (heh). Hell, you can even extend this beyond Fire Emblem and Zelda. Maybe even extend it to anime and manga, and you might find the same themes in places you don't expect.
It's kind of neat to think about. Essentially, the hero not just defeats the big bad, but kind of purifies them as well.
But! There's another reason why weapons are often the divine relics needed to deliver the finishing blow in video games, and why they are almost always associated with characters of authority.
The Imperial Regalia of Japan/ The Three Sacred Treasures
There exists 3 treasures which represents 3 primary virtues and are part of the enthronement ceremony in Japan. They have never been shown to the public to symbolize authority, so no one but the authority knows what they look like. The above image is just an artist's impression of what they might resemble. They exist, supposedly.
The Sword is known as Kusanagi no Tsurugi, the mirror as Yata no Kagami, and the jewel as Yasakani no Magatama. They represent Valour, Wisdom and Benevolence respectively. They are said to be brought into this world by Japanese gods, passed to the first emperor of Japan, Emperor Jimmu, who said to be a descendant of Amaterasu, the Sun Goddess.
Yep, this is also why Fire Emblem is always about noble blooded people with divine weapons.
Yep, these are also the original inspiration for the triforce in The Legend of Zelda.
I won't get into the details behind the Regalia's story in this post, it's too long! Linfamy has done a video about the Regalia if you're interested.
youtube
Hopefully this was interesting. Again, feel free to take the ideas here and read up on it externally. So many, many videos and posts and I've not seen people talk at all about this. Sadge.
But before I close off this post, there is a negative side to this kegare concept, in which real people are discriminated against in Japan. ...Remember the association with death for kegare? Yeah... Uhm, someone needs to take care of the dead in any society and butcher livestocks for food, so what happens to those people? ...Messed up things, actually. If you are interested to learn about this, feel free to check this video out (link). Warning: it's a huge downer of a video.
And I think I've spent enough time writing this! Ty for reading this far if you did! ❤️
#fire emblem#fire emblem heroes#legend of zelda#fire emblem engage#apologies if the tags over reach a bit#culture stuff
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Past, Present, and Future
The human's name is MC. They were simply an exchange student at a school the prince founded, but after forming pacts with seven of the most powerful demons in the Devildom and finding out that they're distantly related to an angel, they're now linked to the Devildom for the foreseeable future.
Judging by how protective Satan is towards them, I suspect he's one of the demons MC has a pact with. Asmo's probably another, which means that most likely, we're the ones MC's referring to.
Oddly enough, it doesn't seem too far-fetched to me. There's something unusually captivating about MC. I find myself hanging onto their every word.
And then I notice it. The ring on their finger. I didn't think too much of it at first, since it's a simple black band, but when the light hit it just now, it glinted like gold.
"Can I see your hand for a second, MC?" I ask. They comply, and I take a closer look at the ring. Even though they nearly blend into the black, the engraved design on it matches the one on mine.
What's more, the ring appears to have fused onto their finger, making it impossible to take off. Just like mine.
"Did I give this to you?"
"Indirectly, yes," they answer. "You gave it to an ex to safeguard it, and she gave it to me. It helps stabilize my power, you see. Prevents it from destroying the three realms."
"Who has the other ring?" MC's confused. Satan, on the other hand, promptly answers,
"Solomon." Well, that's interesting. That's the name of the human sorcerer Michael's taken an interest in recently.
"What are you guys talking about?" MC asks.
"The Ring of Light has a sister: the Ring of Wisdom," Satan explains. "They were created specifically for Lucifer and Michael respectively. Michael gave his ring to Solomon after the war, and obviously you have Lucifer's."
"Right...and this is significant because?" My turn.
"As a result of the rings' power, my soul has become intertwined with Michael's. We're essentially one entity housed in two bodies. The fall must have severed our connection, making it necessary for the rings to find new heirs." I pause. "Do you have any connection to this Solomon fellow?"
"I'm his apprentice." Well, then. It seems as though the process has already begun.
"I want you to be careful, MC. The connection you now share with Solomon has the power to change worlds, but being that close to him can also drive you mad. Just...make sure you keep your wits about you." MC nods as I let go of their hand, and we continue walking.
Eventually, we make our way to one of the observatories.
"If your Simeon is the same as mine, he's probably in here," I explain. "He finds it quiet and secluded enough for him to collect his thoughts."
"Is there anything else you'd like to know before we part ways?" MC asks.
"I think I've heard enough. I would, however, like to pass along a message, if you don't mind." Satan and MC glance at each other, and Satan shrugs. I dig around in my robe pockets until I find my notepad and pen. Using part of the building as a flat surface, I write the following note on a blank sheet of paper:
ᔕ,
ᗩᗰOᖇ ᐯIᑎᑕIT OᗰᑎIᗩ.
-ᒪ
(Transcription: S, Amor vincit omnia. -L)
Tearing the note off, I fold it and hand it to MC.
"Give this to Simeon. He'll understand what it means." As MC sticks the note in their pocket, I open the door to the observatory.
"Thank you," I tell them as they head inside. "For everything."
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i have to ask because i adore you and i want to know about your new blorbos- who are they and what are they and why are they always soaked in blood
JDHSJFHJFDDJFFSDFDF, oh man where do i start cassie.
they're from the anime/manga jujutsu kaisen, and they are:
gojo satoru. love of my fucking life. my fucking everything my boy my man, i am so so in LOVE with this man i cant even begin to tell u. he consumes my every waking thought, my life is dedicated to seeing him get fucked. (he's the guy in my header humping his all into the other's arm)
and (ryoumen) sukuna. beautiful sexy evil man.
(can u tell who's my fave)
so in this world, we have jujutsu sorcerers, who are people with special powers that they use to defeat/exorcise curses, which are basically evil spirits born of negative human emotions
gojo is the strongest jujutsu sorcerer alive. he is insanely strong, not a single person can go against him. his powers make it so that u literally physically cannot touch him. he controls "infinity" and can warp space, and he also has pretty special eyes that let him perceive things at a much deeper level than a regular person. those two things combined make him quite literally untouchable. and insanely powerful.
as for sukuna, he used to be a human who lived thousands of years ago, who used to be the strongest sorcerer of his time, and is considered to be the strongest sorcerer in history. he is the King of Curses, no one could ever defeat him, or destroy his soul, which he divided into his 20 preserved fingers so it would survive through time, even after dying.
so itadori yuuji
this lil baby boy (literally the babiest sweetest boy to exist btw) (he's actually the main character haha)
due to some stuff, he ends up eating one of sukuna's mummified fingers and sukuna reincarnates inside him. yuuji becomes a vessel for sukuna, who lives inside yuuji's mind now and sometimes takes over his body (reason why they look the same)
and now, yuuji is sentenced to be executed bc he holds the most evil sorcerer in history inside him, but gojo goes nope! wait a minute, let's not do that. and manages to convince the people in charge to postpone yuuji's execution, saying that they'll get yuuji to find and eat all of sukuna's fingers and then execute him, getting rid of sukuna all in one go.
ok so that's the context (that's actually what the anime's about haha), but as to gojo and sukuna.
THEY ARE IN LOVE
well, they're there. sdkkhfkjdkfdf
ok no, so like they do their things right. gojo is a teacher (tho we never actually see him do any teaching lmao) and sukuna lives inside yuuji and causes trouble sometimes. they don't really ever interact in the story (they literally meet and have a lil confrontation, decide to kill each other and never talk again djshjfdasdadfd) (until they actually have their Fight, more on that later)
BUT!!!!!!!! they may not interact, but they are completely tied together narratively.
as u can see, they're both the strongest from their respective times, so they have a lot of links when it comes to their characters themselves and what they are referred to in the story. specifically that, in being the strongest, they exist in a plane above everyone else, literally untouchable.
now, in the story, this position of strongest is coupled with solitude, being the strongest meaning u're alone and no one else understands you bc of this
and SO they have their fight. bc plot reasons right. this is obv what it was all gonna lead to. fight of the two strongest.
and the fight, consequently, revolves around that idea of solitude, and understanding each other.
which like. ok. yeah we saw that coming. ofc. no big deal.
EXCEPT, to make reference to their relationship and that idea of understanding each other, the term that is used is, and i kid u not, love.
there's a very specific phrase that is used multiple times between them. which is actually used originally with a character who shows romantic feelings towards sukuna.
she challenges sukuna to a fight and sukuna promises to marry her if she wins. her goal in this fight is to share in sukuna's solitude and show him love (read R→L)
but she says this to sukuna and this. this is his reaction.
SUKUNA KNOWS LOVE ALREADY
to which she gets super pissed bc that's not!!! love!!!!!!!
sukuna defeats/kills her. and u know when the next time that exact fucking phrase is used? when sukuna and gojo finally meet again and set up the date to have their Fight, where sukuna remembers her words
which tells us that.
sukuna was.
thinking about gojo when she said that.
*screams into hands*
BUT IT DOESN'T STOP THERE. this phrase is then repeated. multiple times.
1. right after gojo punches the fuck out of sukuna:
2. said in reference to gojo, when he realizes there's a chance of him losing:
3. gojo reminiscing about their fight:
so, as u can see, they were going to teach each other love. their fight is. canonically. about teaching each other love. what the FUCK.
but ENOUGH love talk (or else i'm at risk of going crazy insane)
LET'S TALK ABOUT HOW THEY'RE LOADED WITH SEXUAL TENSION
this was in their first meeting where they fought (for quite literally 10 seconds)
like... why he do dat.... .......... . ....
next day sukuna goes "hey im gonna kill u first <3" and gojo just goes "teehee omg really? *hair twirl* <3"
they also decide to have their final battle on dec 24 which is like a super romantic date in japan (explicitly said so by another character)
and their FIGHT. it is LITERALLY just them flirting and touching each other
LOOK AT THIS SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
i fucking lost it. i still haven't recovered. that is the hottest thing i've ever seen in my life. gojo wants that dick so fucking bad
not to mention thigh grabs and hand touchies
and the entirety of the fight is just them having fun 😭😭 they're supposed "enemies" on opposite sides and the fate of the world is at stake here, but they actually don't give a fuck about that.
they're literally smiling and having a great fucking time. this fight for them is just play. their fight is just for them to have fun as the strongest and to connect with each other. they're enemies but they don't hate each other or anything, they only search for that sense of fulfillment in each other OTL
AND ABOUT THAT, oh my GOD
sukuna wins. he defeats gojo. and at the end, this. is what sukuna says to gojo at the end of the fight:
FUCKING. I'LL NEVER FORGET YOU. SCREAAAAM THAT'S ROMANCEEEEEE.
and the soft smile? the fucking petals falling all over them? oh GOD they're trying to kill me
but that's on sukuna's side, what about for gojo? well
HE GENUINELY TRIED TO REACH SUKUNA, GAVE IT HIS ALL TO CONNECT WITH HIM. TO TEACH HIM LOVE AGFKDHSKFHFKJFHDF (BUT HE FAILED HE COULDN'T GIVE SUKUNA WHAT SUKUNA GAVE HIM 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭)
HHRRRRGJFHSJDFHDSJFSDFA KJHDKFJSFKASLDKS ADKJKFHEWRKJEKRKTRELRW
and if i start crying OTL
but alas *deep breaths*
even without all that they're just very fucking sexy. two insane powerful men going at it? come on. how could u NOT want them together. they both hold the same title of the strongest, might as fucking well fuck nasty about it.
and oh god, when i tell u gojo is a fucking brat and he's so strong and untouchable, but then sukuna is capable of putting him down which is. insanely sexy. and i need it. i need gojo obliterated. and i know sukuna won't let me down (AND HE DID NOT. HE OBLITERATED THAT MAN) can he now obliterate his holes too
agdkhfhdkhdhs, anyways.... yeah.. that is the situation.........
im just gonna end this by saying
SUKUGO MY LOVES
#f.ask#jjk#sukugo#i fr laughed so much at 'why are they always soaked in blood' sajhdkashfkjasflaf bc yeah yeah they are#and it's bc the fight's the only proper interaction they've had that was longer than a few seconds jhashdksafjk 😭😭😭#they're actually not new blorbos haha. i've had them for over three years since the anime first came out and i got obsessed#then i got into other stuff as u know. but right now my obsession has reawakened :D#but yes they're my otp yeah they're a fucking rarepair#jk tho. honestly honestly they arent a rarepair. not anymore#it just feel like it here on tumblr dfksdjfkdsj 😭😔#they used to be tho. it was so bad back then that i was literally the one who had to create the ship tag ajfhjasgfajhkahf#which like..i mean yeah. bc before it was ONLY their first meeting 10 sec confrontation and that 5 sec 'ill kill u' 'im honored'#that was IT for 3 years. their actual fight is recent#and it fucking killed me bc it was SO SO SO GAY. my starved lil heart was given so MUCH#IN CONCLUSION#i just want sukuna to fuck gojo that is all thank u for coming to my ted talk sukugo my beloveds <3#i feel like ive rambled too much hdasgdisfhkjafdkjdasds SO SORRY for making u read all that 🙈🙈🙈#i hope all this makes sense#and that it makes my posts a bit more comprehensible hahaha#giving u the biggest KISS <333333#and idk if u're interested in it but if u are then i'd def def recommend jujutsu kaisen!! it's really good its super fun!!!#full of Pain and Suffering too but like. shhh. it's super cool.
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Hello! I've read all your stories about Kar'niss and liked them much. I've also dug recently into drider's lore and learned that driders can cast spells, but didn't understand whether all driders are able to do this, or not. How do you think, can Kar'niss cast any spell or not? And what would happen if he met other drider? Thank you in advance :)
Hiya! I'm glad you've enjoyed the writing.
According to the lore I've found, all driders can innately cast certain spells.
All driders could inherently cast clairaudience /clairvoyance, dancing lights, darkness, detect good, detect law, detect magic, dispel magic, faerie fire, levitate, and suggestion once per day. Dhairn once noted that these abilities were essentially the same as those owned by powerful blessed drow and used this fact to dupe driders into supporting his cause by calling them blessed creatures of Lolth by pointing this out.
Out of that list, the idea of any drider using levitate is a new fear I didn't know I had. Enjoy that bit of nightmare fuel, you're welcome.
Drider also carry over any spells and abilities they had pre-transformation. So if a drow was a wizard, they'd maintain their wizard spells once changed. While I don't know Kar'niss' full ability list, everyone who has fought him knows his default go-to spell; Sanctuary.
This spell has intrigued me a bit. Even though the information claims that drider can cast like clerics, wizards and sorcerers, it specifically goes into the cleric domains driders can cast from. I've checked all four; Chaos, Destruction, Evil and Trickery and none of them list Sanctuary as a spell drider can choose from.
This leaves one option, Paladin. I had an ask sometime ago where someone spoke of their ideal class for Kar'niss being Paladin. The more I thought about it the more I was like "Yeah, actually." There are other classes that can use the Sanctuary spell but they aren't included in BG3 as options, so I'll assume they don't exist in this realm. But it gets even weirder! The two oaths that can cast this spell specifically are oath of devotion and oath of redemption. In BG3 oath of redemption isn't available as a subclass but there is a fair amount of comparisons to be made. Truth is, either of them have cross-over characteristics that fall in line with Kar'niss' devout way of life. It's far too much information to pack into one post but I'll leave the links here to read over and compare at your leisure.
Paladin - Oath of Devotion
Paladin - Oath of Redemption
As for your second question, driders are known to be solitary creatures. However, they have also been reported to pair and live with a few driders and a collection of giant spiders. So Kar'niss could reasonably get along with other drider if the circumstances are right. If they are still Lolth-sworn he's more likely to be aggressive toward them and may even seek to destroy them. I think he might like having other drider around if only so he doesn't feel like the odd spider out, or just to have someone else to relate to. Thing is, I think his focus on the Absolute is so strong he likely cares for little else. Only Her approval matters, only Her attention matters, everyone else is a side character in his heroes journey.
Thanks for the ask!
#baldur's gate 3#kar'niss#drider#bg3#karniss#baldurs gate 3#answered#drow#Paladin#oath of devotion#oath of redemption#theorycrafting#long post#my ADHD mind strikes again going on random tangents#I may meme him to be a bard but paladin really suits him as a whole
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can you explain to me how the power system works in jjk?
( i am so sorry for this late reply ) ofc this isn't all the power systems in jjk but these are the main ones with overly simple definitions + links if u wanna do personal reading
i. cursed energy — used by cursed spirits ( eg. jogo ) and sorcerers ( eg. nanami )
it's aligned with negative emotions and used to fuel someone's ( only sorcerers and cursed spirits! ) jujutsu¹. for example:
we all know negative emotions are home to humans, however, this doesn't mean a regular human can see cursed spirits. while most humans in jjk possess cursed energy to a degree, only those whose energy's at a higher level are able to see cursed spirits ( ie. jujutsu sorcerers. )
cursed energy can "leak" from a human body & ferments until a cursed spirit manifests ( kinda like baking a cake in the oven except more complicated. ) that only happens with non-sorcerers ( regular humans basically ) — jujutsu sorcerers can control their energy + channel it into jujutsu¹.
ii. jujutsu — jujutsu sorcery, one of the key elements in jjk. it's an umbrella term that includes all sorcery-related abilities ( eg. previously mentioned cursed energy. ) aside from that, it's used as a prefix within jujutsuers: jujutsu high(school), jujutsu sorcerer, etc.
anyone with the ability to utilize jujutsu is referred to as a jujutsu sorcerer.
jujutsu's exact "age" is unknown. it's been around since curses dawned the earth.
note: you'll often see 'heian era' when reading jjk. heian era, aka golden age of jujutsu, dates back to 1,000 years ago when sukuna reigned.
iii. cursed techniques — specific abilities that activate when cursed energy is channeled ( think of the process as something similar to solving algebra but mentally. )
cursed techniques are activated by manipulating cursed energy using two key operations known as lapse and reversal + much more ( innate techniques, barriers, etc )
lapse: basic, default or neutral state of activation. when casting cursed techniques through lapse, the caster circulates their energy in a forward direction to channel it into their ability. ( it's very confusing )
reversal: produces positive energy by multiplying negative energy with negative energy ( for example using math: -3 × -2 = 6 | in math, two negatives makes a positive.) negative energy is NOT suitable for recovering but positive energy can heal physical injuries. usually it requires a very high manipulation of cursed energy so it's kinda rare.
+ a very much more in depth explanation
iv. domain expansions — an advanced barrier technique and the pinnacle of jujutsu sorcery. within a domain expansion, the user's cursed techniques are improved and are guaranteed to hit the opponent ( eg. gojo's domain expansion in season one with yuuji + jogo. )
it's achieved by expanding an innate domain with cursed energy while using a barrier to construct it inside another separate space ( like sukuna's, for example. )
the caster imbues their cursed techniques within the barrier to complete the expansion, allowing them to use their ability throughout every nook & cranny of the domain.
to trigger d.e the caster must use a specific hand sign or signal unique to them ONLY. from the outside, the barrier is closed and usually appears as a floating orb.
domains aren't indestructable.
+ more here !
here's where gojo satoru comes into play & why his existence itself is important.
jujutsu sorcerers are recruited and trained through two schools located in tokyo and kyoto. both schoold are the "pillars" of the jujutsu community alongside the headquarters. as population increases, so does the strength of curses. the only thing that's keeping the balance are the crown jewels of the gojo clan: six eyes & limitless technique.
gojo satoru's the only person in 700 years to possess both six eyes and limitless. his birth itself not only made him an important figure in jjk but also created balance between both worlds ( which also shifted the advantage from cursed spirits to jujutsu sorcerers ) — hence why he's one of the main protagonists along with itadori yuuji.
the only way to stop gojo satoru is to use the prism realm, however, it failed to stop gojo. all of this happened during the shibuya arc to the current arc, which is mainly focused on gojo vs. sukuna.
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Lore: Priesthoods and Temples
Link: Disclaimer regarding D&D "canon" & Index
[tldr: D&D lore is a giant conflicting mess. Larian's lore is also a conflicting mess. You learn to take what you want and leave the rest]
Religion | Priests & Temples | Deities
Shar | Selûne | Bhaal #1 | Bhaal #2 | Mystra | Jergal | Bane | Bane #2 | Bane #3 | Myrkul | Lathander | Kelemvor | Tyr | Helm | Ilmater | Mielikki | Oghma | Tempus | Silvanus | Talos | Corellon | Moradin | Yondalla | Garl Glittergold | Eilistraee | Lolth | Laduguer | Gruumsh | Bahamut | Tiamat | Amodeus |
--- WIP
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An overview of temples and priesthoods in Faerûn as a whole.
Becoming a priest.
Different classes amongst the clergy: The four divine spellcaster classes, and sorcerers continue to annoy the people around them.
No, you don't need to be a cleric to join the church.
Temples and Shrines: The various generic (mostly) universal functions of temples; homeless shelter, school, hospital, post office, bank, landlord...
Evil gods and why 99% of them are legal to worship.
And some other stuff.
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While almost everybody in Faerûn has a patron deity they revere above all others, very few people chose a henotheistic approach to religion, these exceptions being fanatics and followers of more megalomanic gods like Cyric, Shar and Bane (and, strangely, followers of these gods tend to be fanatics...). And, of course, the clergies, who devote their lives to the service of their patron deity. Priests don't necessarily hold other deities in low esteem, but they generally do not actively worship them - following the full doctrine of one faith is a full time job. Trying to fit anymore in would run you into the ground.
Sometimes an individual serves more than one deity, which usually indicates that the two gods are allied and involves specific religions that are structured to support worship of multiple gods (for example the Three of Rashemen - Mystra, Mielikki and Chauntea worshipped as a trinity).
Even then one may expect some "tug-of-war" to crop up between the gods involved.
Excommunicated clergy will often find themselves unable to join another faith, as other churches don't trust that their faith won't waver again. (This isn't a firm rule though, nor necessarily reflective of what the gods think, and many deities actively try and poach followers from their enemies (Selûne and Shar spring to mind))
Deities are aware of mortals who are compatible with their portfolio and will try to sway them into worshipping them, sending minor miracles and dream visions. Some who respond to these omens in ways that particularly click with the deity will continue to receive them, and the most devout will follow the road towards priesthood.
Deities cannot force a mortal into service and generally won't try; and a mortal of weak faith will find the deity as useless to them as they are to the god.
Those who feel called will generally reach out to a temple or local preacher. Some will undertake pilgrimages and vigils at holy sites for further guidance, and receive vivid visions or even have their deity manifest before them (a minor manifestation is much, much more likely than a full avatar).
When joining a church, each one has its own way of testing, training and confirming their supplicants.
Some priests are singled out further, and are called by their deity to serve them directly as what is known (mechanically) as "specialty priests." Sometimes becoming one is simply a matter of the head of the temple taking notice of a prospective priest and putting them through the training, although it's up to the god to accept them or not.
Every specialty priest receives blessings and powers unique to their deity, and their rank is known by a name unique to their faith (Corellon's specialty priests are the Feywardens, Selûne's are known as Silverstars, Bhaal's are the Deathstalkers, etc).
(These are not the same as Chosen, though it's a similar thing.)
While clerics are the first form of clergy that springs to mind; paladins, druids and rangers are also "priest classes". On Toril all four classes must receive their spells from a patron deity, and paladins and rangers serve their gods as their secondary function.
Being a divine spellcaster is not a requirement to join the clergy - any class may be found in the ranks of a temple, although clerics and druids often hold the power due to their strong connection to the divine. Only those two classes can lead in ceremonies and rituals, due to the divine power they wield.
Divine spellcasters receive their spells by praying to their deity, and they pray for their spells at specific times of day, as decided by their religion and usually relevant to a time connected to that deity (Sharrans pray at night, for example).
The spells are given to them, not chosen; whether a priest receives healing spells or a more warlike repertoire depends on what use the deity plans to put them to.
Sorcerers of the divine soul subclass (formerly known as a separate class known as the Favoured Soul) often pose some difficulty for the established hierarchy. They are holy, directly blessed by and possibly related to their deity, but due to the fact that their divine magic is innate rather than earned through study and service, such holy figures often question established dogma and hierarchy based on their own intuition - they are chosen ones after all, don't they know their god better than you who only knows them through interpretation of man made texts and vague omens?
All clergy are to do their best to be exemplars of their deity's teachings and values in their daily life (and reflects well upon that god to outsiders of the faith), and to serve that deity's goals to the best of their abilities.
They are also charged with expanding their faith. Whenever an opportunity presents itself the priest must explain their faith and its teachings to the uninitiated, placing an emphasis on the benefits and rewards of following their god. Adventuring priests are usually on missionary work.
All priests must support their churches by tithing (typically 10%) of their earnings to its upkeep and goals.
Divine spellcasters must meet every requirement of their faith, or else they will cease receiving spells until they've made reparations. If they piss their deity off sufficiently they will be stripped of the power their god bestowed upon them and cease to be of their class - fallen paladins being the prime example of that (many of whom may turn to darker sources of power and become blackguards/oathbreakers).
Evil deities, and some neutral ones, tend to kill their apostates.
While gods will accept worshippers of any race, non-humans and their pantheons frown upon their own people joining the clergy of human gods. The nonhuman clergies respond to their gods' disapproval, and demihuman priests of the Faerûnian pantheon may enjoy a negative reception ranging from cool disdain to full-on hostility amongst their own people.
(There are exceptions where human gods have syncretised with other pantheons: Gond is known to the gnomes as Nebelun the Meddler, and halflings consider Tymora to be the human disguise of a halfling goddess called Shalamora; both are worshipped by them as gnome/halfling deities, but they are both comfortable enough amongst humans to worship them in their human aspects. Mielikki is known to the elves as the half-elven goddess Khalreshaar, and Sharess is known by her original elven aspect of Zandilar the dancer.)
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Not every city will have a temple for each god with a full staff of clergy. Those temples that are available also serve as the permanent residence of the priests that serve there. More often the gods will be venerated in public locals shrines, as well as private household ones. Wealthier families may have their own private chapels.
Temples in the Realms usually hold services at least once very two days, if not daily. Sermons are the usual faire - news and gossip, carefully slanted to paint their deity in a good light (or their enemies in a bad one) and the importance of the creeds of the faith and its aims. At the end of the sermon the priests will generally bless the laypeople, while trying to motivate them to do things in service of the deity.
In rural areas temples provide charity to their community - offering food and shelter to the disabled, the desperate, the poor and the homeless. Those seeking sanctuary are to repay the church as they are able by assisting with chores around the temple.
Temples also provide basic education to the local children, and are the typical source of schooling.
Temples operate under something of a Hippocratic oath, and should never refuse to treat the injured and sick brought to them. Still, priests may be reluctant if the patient brought to them is considered a monster (say, an illithid, orc or drow). They also tend to be hesitant to tend to clergy of other gods, and if possible will move them to the care of one of their own temples as soon as they can.
While every faith has its own niche it makes money off of, temple income tends to come from a variety of sources.
For a small fee and an offering to their god, one can receive a pardoning for their sins from a priest (although it seems that they will hear confession for free). Asking for healings, resurrections and blessings carries a fee. Having a church bless a wedding, journey, new business, burial, funeral or birth or whatever also costs money.
Some shrines and temples do a side business in selling minor holy relics and good luck charms.
Some faiths basically run protection rackets: keep up with your regular offerings and our god won't ruin your life and/or kill you horribly and/or destroy everything you hold dear.
Information networks consisting of children who are paid to report back to the priests with what they see and hear are also common (although they wouldn't admit it, simply making some vague statement of their god's mysterious all-knowing ways.)
But the major sources of income for churches is the postal service, banks and land ownership.
Temples run courier services; if you take a message or package to a temple and give them the address the temple will pass it to the nearest temple in a chain, until it reaches the shrine or temple closest to the destination, where a priest will deliver it to the recipient. Priests are under divine oath to protect the parcel and the privacy of the people involved, and violating that promise will result in their deity withdrawing their favour and immediate excommunication.
Temples provide banking and money lending services, and will also keep objects safely in storage for a fee.
Clergy are also encouraged to invest their income into buying land and properties, bringing in money from the tenants. They are not allowed to discriminate against potential tenants based on faith - a Loviatan who owns a house cannot refuse to lend it to a woman on the basis that she's Ilmatari, and she cannot forbid that woman from carrying out her religious practices or using the house for religious purposes. Sometimes the temples come into possession of land when devout people leave it to them in their wills.
Temples in general tend to own vast amounts of real estate within cities.
Churches often squabble amongst themselves for wealth and power (or to depose the faiths of enemy deities). Lay worshipers, for their part, mostly just watch from the side-lines and keep up their offerings for both - giving a better portion of their worship to whoever's doing best and switching sides when need be.
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The phrase "necessary evil" applies quite firmly in Faerûnian religion - the gods are here to stay, they are powerful and prideful and there is nothing anybody can do. Rather than devolve the world into constant chaos trying to fight a war of good vs evil that will never end, governments tend to work out peace treaties.
...Besides, they can be quite useful friends to have, when you have to play politics! Like that time in Cormyr where nobles hired Malarites to "accidentally" unleash monsters onto a rival family's estate, and now the priests aren't allowed to unleash beasts without supervision and permission from the authorities. (Not to mention that many of them are followers of the darker gods.)
The average denizen of Toril is just resigned to this as a fact of life. Many of them sensationalise these religions, and gossip abounds about whatever must be going on behind those temple doors.
There are rules that many churches must follow:
They can't disrupt public peace or oppose the ruling class - temples are generally hidden from sight (usually underground) and shrines must also be out of public view. Worship cannot be done in public, and there may be laws forbidding the faithful from publicly declaring their religion.
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They must not oppose the government in any way.
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Activities such as human sacrifice are to be kept as silent and out of the public eye as humanly possible, and performed under agreed upon limitations - generally that they must not harm "innocents, citizens, or government representatives." If you want to target criminals, adventurers or anybody nobody is particularly going to miss, however, knock yourself out.
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The church must also make itself useful to the local government and the realm as negotiated.
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Some governments may chose to monitor the activities of the clergies.
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They cannot force their faith on the unwilling - nobody is to be harmed in rituals or forced to convert (for example, as a Loviatan you may beat a man bloody in your goddess' honour as long as he has consented to it; should it turn out that you coerced him into it, through whatever methods, expect a backlash.)
"No evil clergy anywhere in a well-ruled land or city would dare to use drugs, blackmail, or other coercion to gain converts or subjects for rituals."
People are wary of offending the gods, and nobody will insult even the most hated deity - but that doesn't mean that their holy status will keep the common priest from being executed under the law if caught doing something illegal. Many rival churches - especially those of good-aligned gods - will jump at the opportunity to put a careless priest in the spotlight. A priest who makes themselves unpopular within their own temple may find their own siblings in the faith directing law enforcement to their home.
The most common result of getting caught rocking the boat is either for the church to excommunicate the priest, or else for that priest to suddenly, silently be removed from their post and reassigned by the church somewhere else outside of the jurisdiction of the realm with the promise that they will be disciplined. The latter happens "more often than the general public would be pleased to know".
Of course that's the common priest - the highest ranks in a church are powerful and well connected enough that they can generally get away with whatever the hell they like. Murder? Torture? Slavery? Go nuts.
By necessity, religions that operate based on fun rituals like theft and human sacrifice have to court the good will of the government to survive (usually while scheming to infiltrate the halls of power and change the laws in their own favour). They study the ways of their society, and learn to manipulate them to their ends.
"In public, the clergy of evil deities are models of good behavior. As such, although average citizens respect or fear and avoid said clergy, they will almost always not attack, deride, or dispute with them. Everyone in the Realms believes in all the gods, and so understands and accepts the purpose and major aims of every faith. This doesn’t mean everyone necessarily agrees with or supports every religion, but that they tolerate and understand the place in society each faith occupies."
Some faiths follow gods that actively promote the overthrow of established governments, which makes it difficult for them to function under such agreements (examples include Shar, Talos, Cyric and Tiamat). While they can establish themselves in areas of political unrest, they rarely become worthy of note in stable regions and are usually outlawed, mostly existing as underground cults preying on the desperate. They do tend to seek out people in positions of power to seduce and corrupt, however, and may wield some influence that way.
"Even priests of the most violently evil faiths are seldom foolish enough to draw daggers and seek to carve up soldiers or Crown agents in the streets. A dead foe is just that: dead, and soon to be replaced by another. An influenced foe, on the other hand, is well on the way to becoming an ally, increasing the sway of the deity."
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thinking about fh dnd classes and here's my list (some homebrew is used, dw its linked :] ) (also this is about them as people, not who they would play in a theoretical game)
Ortega: Battlemaster Fighter. I briefly considered monk for their hand to hand combat style but the tactical techniques of battlemaster and how some of them allow you to help your teammates fit much better
Chen: War Cleric. HERE ME OUT OKAY. Obvious fighter fits him and all but war cleric are incredibly strong and have a ton of buffs. Specifically the fact that his armor was the only thing that could power the dampeners during heartbreak feels like a war cleric. Also the fact that Ortega was marshal instead of him. This doesn't mean he's weaker though, if you've ever played/played with a war cleric you know they're BUSTED
Anathema: Acid dragonborn Barbarian, Path of the Favored. I considered sorcerer but i felt that barbarian fits their tankyness better. One of the abilities is "Favored Presence" which works well with their charm and how people tend to be endeared to them.
Herald: Paladin, Oath of the Crown. This one's from the swordcoast! Shout out to my dear @radioactive-mouse, this one's all him. It's the devotion and the being a hero and being nice but honey when you look at the contract, you work for the government, not the people.
Argent: Barbarian, Path of the Mutant. Kind of a weird one (we did consider eldritch knight) but this one fits her intensity in battle and incredibly impulsive choices (bailing from the party, chasing you down in the sewers, the bridge fight). Also how motivated by anger she can be and how absolutely relentless she is. Path of the Mutant allows you to modify your body during combat to gain an edge, which she literally does its great. (also it fits her backstory and shit)
Dr. Mortum: Armorer Artificer. Come on, what were you expecting? I could have gone with wizard, probably transmutation, but this one is just so perfect.
Finally Sidestep is kinda a weird one, cause it really depends on the step. A very sneaky tactician step might be an arcane trickster rouge, whereas a bombastic and flashy step might be a champion fighter out of pure style. Hell, they could even be a paladin considering the training heroes route and anarchist route!
those are my general ideas but if you have others or disagree, please share them! i would love to here what other people think of fh dnd classes
#if that last bit sounds like bait to add what your step's class would be#thats becuase it ABSOLUTELY is#please pardon all the tags i just like being thorough :]#sammy speaks#fallen hero ortega#ricardo ortega#julia ortega#fhr steel#wei chen#fhr anathema#fhr herald#daniel sullivan#lady argent#fhr argent#doctor mortum#fhr sidestep#fallen hero
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LoZ: BotW - Why I Think Zelda Couldn't Unlock Her Magic
I'm gonna try & explain this in DnD terms if I can.
1 problem, I think, is that she was approaching unlocking her magic in a similar manner to that of a Cleric, when really, it's possible that she's more of a Divine Soul Sorcerer.
Clerics, their Divine Magic is more so on loan from their patron as that magic isn't really their own to begin with. Because of this, their magic is directly connected to their faith in & devotion to their patron.
Divine Soul Sorcerers are different in that some are the result of a, possibly distant, familial relation to a Divine being, while others have a sort of holy, prophetic destiny that marks them as vessels of Divine Magic.
Zelda is both of these things. Not only is she a direct ancestor to Hylia's mortal vessel (& depending on your hc all Zeldas could possibly be Hylia's reincarnation, this one included), but she is also one of the 2-3 central players in a cyclical destiny that repeats itself over & over again even when the main opposition in the prophecy isn't the one currently causing issues (ie. Ganondorf/Demise's bastard hate-child).
In this way, Zelda's Divine Magic is hers by blood & possibly even soul. It isn't something that was bestowed upon her for being a good little worshiper. It's hers based on genetics & possibly also her soul. As such, her magic is more likely to unlock in a different way. Possibly on a more natural level or even with a sort of emotional catalyst, which Link became for her canonically.
In this way, I think that she had all the necessary tools to unlock her powers on her own & that Hylia wasn't necessarily keeping anything from her. And, in fact, Hylia's aid likely was never needed to begin with.
Hell, if all Zeldas are actually Hylia's reincarnation, then the actual Hylia likely isn't even there in the way that Hyruleans likely think she is. The Goddess Statues more than likely being inhabited by Hylia's bunshin. Which is a sort of ability that Japanese deities have to split themselves up into regional rulers of sort & act on the source god's behalf.
Ergo, if Hylia is being reincarnated in the same way that Link is, then the "Hylias" possessing the statues are not actually her & most likely don't have her full power. Merely acting as guardians of Hyrule & guides for the Hero.
At the same time, a lot of people seem to be under the impression that if gods are real, then they should just make everything better, but all that would do is make people reliant on them to an unhealthy degree. Like, it's one thing to ask for help when you need it, it's another to just not be able to do things on your own. We also don't really know the rules involving interference in mortal lives. There could easily be a very strict protocol in place with dire consequences if it's breached.
Anyway, more than anything, I think 1 issue is that Zelda, & in fact everyone else, expected Hylia to just give Zelda her powers when she already had them. Like, yes, Zelda was working hard to unlock her powers. Breaking her back & probably getting herself sick doing so, but that doesn't negate the fact that said work seemed to almost entirely rely on praying & asking for help from the goddess.
In a lot of ways, I think she would've unlocked her magic more easily if she'd gone about it as if it were any other form of magic. Specifically, the way a Sorcerer would.
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However, it's also possible that if her magic is also based partially on faith, then while it may be in a similar way to that of a Cleric, I don't believe it to be altogether the same. Which could, in itself, be the reason she was having so much trouble. What I mean is that she, just as a person, is much more cerebral, secular, & scientifically-minded than any of the other princesses that we've seen so far.
That isn't to say that these are bad things as they make her who she is. A very bright, intelligent, inquisitive, compassionate person.
More so, this issue is likely a result of one possible side-effect of these qualities. In much a similar way to how being hardworking & determined can result in someone being stubborn or hard-headed. Or how honesty, having both feet on the ground, & having a firm grasp on reality can result in bluntness, sometimes to the point of seeming insensitive of other's feelings & perspectives. Or any number of things.
Zelda, just as an individual, needs to know & understand things as most with a scientific mind do (I tend to be very logic & rule-oriented, personally). And the thing is that, a really big part of faith is being able to let go of that need to know why or how, which I think that this particular Zelda would have difficulties with.
At the same time, I don't think that the faith she needs has much to do with faith in Hylia per se, nor even in her own destiny, as like I said before, Zelda's magic isn't on loan the way a Cleric's generally is. Yes, it originally came from Hylia, but that's because she is Hylia's descendant. More so, it's possible that what she needed, at least in part, was faith in herself.
I see Zelda as having lost a lot of confidence in herself due to her own perceived repeated failures. Which ends up resulting in her, essentially, getting in her own way.
In my mind, when Link was about to die, she suddenly didn't have time to doubt herself anymore, so when adding this fact to him acting as a sort of emotional catalyst for her, it caused a bit of an explosion of Divine Magic.
As for why she didn't do this in reaction to her father? To put it frankly, she simply wasn't there to see it & thus didn't experience the same immediate urgency that she did with Link as she was literally right there for that. In fact, I can almost guarantee that had she been there when her father was about to be killed, then she absolutely would've activated her magic in order to save him just like she did canonically with Link.
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It's also possible that motivation could've played a role.
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Edit: Something I came across a while ago that might also have contributed to her problems.
@skyloftian-nutcase - "This Zelda wants for the pieces to just fit but she can't figure it out, and instead of doing some introspection she just continues to look for alternatives. When she does do introspection, it's just to ask why she's defective. Things just need to make sense. I feel like an attitude like this implies that 1, Zelda has no instructor and therefore never learned how to learn, and 2, that implies that everything else she's good at has come naturally to her, such as technology. This girl is a scientist! Who has not learned the scientific method! Though she does try experiments, as poor Link can attest. "
They bring up a very good point! It's very possible that this may well be the case!
I recommend reading the whole post. There's def some good insights.
Zelda's Personality
LoZ Wild Masterlist
#loz#legend of zelda#breath of the wild#botw#zelda#cleric#divine soul sorcerer#dnd#dungeons and dragons
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Are the enchanted blades sentient? [KaguraBachi] (Spoilers upto Ch. 16)
I've been seeing an idea occasionally circulate of the enchanted blades being sentient or becoming sentient some time in the future. It's an interesting concept that is somewhat supported by the story but not exactly in the way you're likely thinking. See I doubt the blades have sentience in a way that gives them a personality but more so in a way that draws them to be used?
It's a bit weird to explain since it's more of a vibe so I'll just illustrate my point and hopefully that'll make it more clear. to do this I'm going to be setting up some obvious background stuff and information that I'll use in the rest of this.
The Enchanted Blades were created by Kunishige specifically as weapons to kill with.
Kunishige was killed 2 years ago and the blades were stolen by a group of still unknown sorcerers.
The Kamunabi knows about the blade's existence but none of the specifics of them despite these blades being
A. In the war
B. In the wild for 2 years
Right after Chihiro started searching for the blades 2 just happened to crop up.
The wielder of the blade is linked to the blade in some way
A. The user can "awaken" new abilities within a blade that it didn't originally have when they're pushed to the brink
B. Sojo is able to teleport/dash to his sword using a bolt of lightning despite not having that type of sorcerery or holding the blade. Meaning he was able to use it's power despite not having it on his person.
The enchanted blades are made of "Daten Rock" which is a still unknown quantity. We only know the following;
A. When anyone (excluding Kunishige) tries to touch/hold a Daten Rock they EXPLODE
B. Daten Rock is used in the creation of Enchanted blades.
The blades have a "true realm" which is mostly unknown but is confirmed to exist. Somehow allowing the user and blade to grow together.
With that established I want to start pointing out all the oddities here.
-First off the Blades were created with a purpose in mind. They are weapons made to kill people. They can only be used as such. They can only reach their full potential through battle. As insane as Sojo is he's been proving right repeatedly in this regard.
-When the blades were locked away (We don't have a precise date on the war iirc but it was atleast 16 years since Chihiro probably wasn't born yet) they were dormant for probably 20+ years before being stolen by the aforementioned sorcerers. This part is rough but there are two possibilties I see with this event relating to the blades being 'sentient'
A. The blades wanted to be used and somehow ended up attracting people to 'free' them (Think of Jojo's Bizarre Adventure's Fate 'system' were stand users attract eachother).
B. The blades were "woken up" by being stolen and the boxes they were kept in were meant to suppress their influence.
Now this leads to the most interesting part. These blades have remained rather hidden and underground for the past 2 years since they were stolen. Yet 2 of them show up nearly immediately after Chihiro started looking for them. (Yes this can be chocked up to keeping the narrative flowing smoothly but that being the reason would be bad writing so I'm not going with that.) So why was this the case? Heres what I think;
The blades have been intentionally kept on the downlow by the Hishaku so that they'd avoid attracting attention (Likely but if they're 3-4 very powerful sorcerers with all 6 blades logically they shouldn't need to stay quiet)
The blades specific "seek out" wielders who match them so that their full power can be brought out in combat. So they haven't been used until now because they haven't ended up in the hands of suitable wielders. This would also explain why one of the enchanted swords is up for auction (imagine selling a nuke on black market E-Bay it's nothing something you'd usually do)
Now again there's another odd coincidence pertaining to the blades.
Sojo and Chihiro awakened a new power of the blade at nearly the same moment. We don't know how long the gap between the end of Sojo's fight and the current clash is so it could've been anywhere from a few minutes to the whole length of Chihiro being healed by Char and hand her over to Shiba to keep her safe. Hell even the time limits on their blade's ultimate moves coincide.
So heres my thesis statement.
The Enchanted Blades are alive in the same way stand arrows from jojo are alive. They don't have a "mind" but they have instinct and a sword's instinct is to fight. Even if they can't move they find a way to end up in the hands of a wielder who can bring out their full potential. Right when that perfect wielder is at risk of dying or losing the blade they just happen to "awaken" an ability capable of allowing them to continue to wield the blade.
The enchanted blades want to clash with each other.
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So I know a usual criticism regarding the introduction of Anodites, and hence linking magic and more specifically Gwen's powers to aliens, is about how they sort of "robbed" the franchise of one of its core elements. But have you ever thought that, given the additional information from the OS, something like that might have been Man of Action's intention all along?
I mean, Omniverse retconned Bezel as a part of the franchise. He was introduced as the greatest sorcerer in the universe, as a person, but that was only because the team couldn't get their hands on all the pop-ups from the original show.
You know what the pop-ups said?
This:
Bezel was never supposed to be a great sorcerer, but a different dimension that was more technologically advanced than Earth! The charms only seemed magical because they were literally too advanced for humans to really understand how they worked.
That's how Gwendolyn was able to wield them in the future even though she destroyed them years ago. She went to the dimension of Bezel and asked for new ones.
So given the charms' initial origins, the fact that there were more advanced magical artifacts that, for some reason, Gwen could handle just fine (the Staff of Ages), and the heavy sci-fi setting of the show, is it really that difficult to believe what we came to know as magic was, deep down, some sort of alien energy/technology we didn't understand or know of?
Because it that was Man of Action's intentions all along, then having Gwen's proficiency with magic be due to belonging to a race of mage aliens is a perfect way to answer the questions raised back in the OS.
Now, this admittedly seems like it's disregarding a beloved aspect of the franchise entirely. I personally would feel cheated too if it turned out there was no such thing as magic in the first place, but luckily UAF managed to avoid just that with the introduction of the Alpha Runa and Ledgerdomain.
Although I just found this pop-up that seems to indicate Hex and Charmcaster were originally intended to be from Bezel, as well.
Having said that, if you ask me, I think that in the end the UAF team did a perfect job at blending both interpretations.
If Man of Action did intend to reveal magic was just something too advanced for humans or that we simply didn't understand or know of, the introduction of Anodites and mana covered that splendidily. And on the other hand, the Ledgerdomain lore served its purpose of keeping magic alive and real.
#ben 10#ben 10 analysis#ben 10 os#ben 10 alien force#ben 10 ultimate alien#ben 10 omniverse#bezel#chams of bezel#gwen tennyson#gwendolyn tennyson#hex#Charmcaster#anodites#Ledgerdomain#dimension of Bezel#ben tennyson#man of action#csrtoon network#ben 10 uaf#verdona#sunny tennyson#ben 10 sunny
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