DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 5
Part 4
After collecting their bags from the library lockers Jazz led him down the hallway until she found a small, unlocked, empty classroom. The room was barren except for desks and a whiteboard. I guess they don’t bother locking it if there’s nothing worth stealing.
Jazz sat her messenger bag down on the teacher’s desk and pulled a whiteboard marker out of a side pocket.
“Right,” Jazz began, “I don’t know how much you know about ecto-entities and since, as you said, the reports on them tend to be pretty biased, I’m just going to start from scratch. Sounds good?” she rambled.
Tim hopped up onto the front row desk and tried his best to look like an attentive teacher’s pet.
“Yes, Ms Fenton,” he said cheekily.
Jazz gave him an amused look.
“Careful Mr Taylor, or you’ll end up in detention,” she said lightly. She turned to the whiteboard and gathered her thoughts for a moment, then wrote ECTO-ENTITIES in large block letters, “Many people refer to all ecto-entities as ghosts, but this is actually a misnomer. Ghosts as most people think of them, i.e. the restless spirits of the dead, are only a small subset of the ectoplasmic population. There’s plenty of them that were never human to begin with,” higher up on the board, she wrote INFINITE REALMS, “Ecto-entities originate from a parallel dimension to ours, which is called the Infinite Realms by its inhabitants. Though my parents refer to it as the Ghost Zone, that name is woefully inadequate.” Jazz paused and glanced at him.
“Kinda like foreigners renaming places instead of using the one in the native language, gotcha,” Tim nodded. They had dealt with alternate realities before, so this wasn’t completely out of left field. He would go along with it for now. Jazz gave him a small smile.
“That’s right!” she said and tapped the whiteboard, “Now, the Infinite Realms and our dimension are closely interconnected, like two sides of the same coin. Large scale damage to one would cause similar devastation on the opposite side and vice versa,” she gave him a serious look.
“Which makes the hostile attitude of the paranormal research community rather worrying,” Tim mused, “If someone did something stupid the blowback would hit us too,” If he wasn’t trained to read people he would have missed the slight tightening around Jazz’s eyes.
“That’s the theory anyway. And it’s not like the US government ever dropped bombs on people just to see what would happen,” she chirped with false cheeriness.
There’s a story there, Tim thought, and not the kind you would find in a history book. What the hell has been going on?
“I’m guessing getting access to the Infinite Realms isn’t as easy as calling an Uber though,” he joked.
“You’d be surprised,” Jazz said wryly, receiving a raised eyebrow in response, “there are places where the barrier between worlds is naturally thin, allowing temporary rifts to form more easily, but they can pop up pretty much anywhere in the world. It’s what allows ecto-entities to enter our dimension. It’s also not unheard of for humans to stumble into the Realms either, though they’re lucky to return at all,” she twirled the marker between her fingers, “Time doesn’t seem to work the same way in the Realms as it does here. Just in case you ever come across one, make sure to leave through the same portal you entered. Otherwise you might find yourself stranded in the Middle Ages, or far in the future with everyone you know and love long dead.”
Tim had to fight to keep down a wince. The whole Bruce Lost In Time Debacle was still an emotional scar for the family, they really didn’t need a repeat performance.
“Duly noted.”
“Some entities are able to open and close rifts at will,” Jazz continued, unfazed by Tim’s dry tone, ”though that ability seems to be pretty rare. It probably requires an unusual level of power or incursions would be much more common.”
“That would explain the little disappearing trick Damian’s delivery guy pulled,” Jason murmured through Tim’s earpiece, “But does that mean we’re dealing with a fucking super ghost?”
Tim gave a thoughtful hum and drummed his fingers against the edge of the desk.
“Do you think humans could open a portal to the Realms?”
Jazz gave him a wry smile.
“You just summed up the bulk of my parents’ research over the last two decades. They managed to build a functioning portal about two years ago.”
Tim choked. Jason swore.
“What?! But that’s-! How is that not all over the news?!” Tim sputtered. Jazz just sighed.
“My parents have been ranting about ghosts since they were in college,” she said wearily, ”Most of the scientific community had written them off as crackpots years ago. It doesn’t help that large concentrations of ectoplasm generate some kind of interference that messes with recording equipment. Short of kidnapping the naysayers and shoving them bodily through the Fenton Ghost Portal it’s hard to prove anything. And thankfully even my parents aren’t that crazy,” she finished with an eye roll.
Tim buried his face in his hands. An interdimensional portal. What the fuck. He thought back on everything Jazz had told him so far.
“What’s ectoplasm?”
“You’ve been paying attention!” she smiled and added some notes to the whiteboard, “Ectoplasm is the basic building block of everything in the Infinite Realms, and by extension ecto-entities. Hence the name. It’s the equivalent of matter in our dimension; atoms, protons, quarks, etcetera. I’m not a physicist, so I can’t tell you exactly how it works, but that’s why ecto-entities are able to interact with our physical world in such fascinating ways. Flight, intangibility and invisibility are all common abilities for them.”
“Wow, what a fucking security nightmare. B is gonna freak,” Jason groused. Tim tuned him out to focus on Jazz’s continued explanation.
“My parents have been experimenting with using ectoplasm for power generation, but it’s proven extremely volatile. It seems like it’s affected by things like belief and emotion which is absolutely fascinating,” she said with a gleam in her eye, “not to mention its effects on organic tissue. Have you ever had your dinner come to life and try to eat you?”
Tim had a sudden, horrible suspicion.
“Can’t say that I have,” he managed to squeeze out past the lump in his throat, “Um… Jazz, what does ectoplasm look like?”
“Well that depends on what it’s been affected and shaped by but in its raw form it looks like a bright green, glowing liquid,” she tilted her head, “Why do you ask?”
Over the comms, Jason made a sound like someone had kicked him in the crotch.
“Lazarus water?! Is she talking about the fucking pits?!” he choked out.
Tim made a valiant effort to keep his own reaction in check.
“Oh, just wondering how I’ll recognize a ghost- er, ecto-entity when I see one,” he lied with fake casualness, “You mentioned something about powers?”
“Yes! All the entities we’ve encountered so far have exhibited powers which are common to their species, as well as additional powers that seem to depend on the individual core. I’ve theorized that powers develop as a response to stress related to either their Obsession or death trauma…” Jazz trailed off, “aaaaaand I’ve lost you.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s not your fault, I know I have a tendency to ramble,” she said sheepishly and considered the bullet points she had written so far, “Let me backtrack a bit. Not all ecto-entities are ghosts. There’s personifications of concepts, which I theorize are formed through the collective consciousness of living beings. They are entities which represent Hope or Justice or-”
“Time?” Tim interjected. Jazz gave him a calculating look.
“...sure. They are among the most powerful entities and have powers related to what they represent. I suspect they may have even been worshipped as gods at some point. You definitely wouldn’t want to mess with them,” at Tim’s nod, she continued, “There’s also the Neverborn, which are formed when ecto-entities choose to reproduce. They are entirely of the Infinite Realms, and thus were never ‘born’ into our world.”
“Ghosts can have children?” he said, surprised.
“Yes, although I’ve never been able to get the details on how it works. They don’t like to discuss it with outsiders. And considering they can look like dragons or disembodied floating eyeballs I’m not sure I’d want to know the exact mechanics,” she joked.
“I’m sure there’s plenty of people who’d disagree with you on that,” Tim muttered, then paused. “Wait, dragons?”
Jazz waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. The point is that there’s way more to the other side than most people realize. There’s probably lots of things I’ve never even heard of. It’s quite exciting, really!”
Tim worried about it. A lot. Jason had also gone suspiciously quiet.
“So, ghosts are just the tip of the iceberg?” Tim hedged.
“Exactly. What sets them apart from other ecto-entities is that they are usually created upon the death of someone or something from our dimension, which gives them motivation to come back here,” Jazz added more notes and arrows to the whiteboard. “All entities have something they call a core; think of it as their central organ or brain. It houses their consciousness, and its nature affects what powers they get. There’s all kinds of elemental cores like fire and water, but also more esoteric ones like shadow or technology. An ecto-entity’s body is composed of ectoplasm and moulded by their core. Their physical form is malleable and heavily based on their self-perception. With experience they can change shape to suit their needs.”
Tim mentally added shapeshifting to the growing list of powers to worry about. So far it sounded a lot like a Martian’s.
“So can ecto-entities grow and age?”
“It depends. The Neverborn usually do, but a lot of ghosts have a bit of a Peter Pan thing going on where they don’t want to. They are often ‘stuck’ at the age they were when they died, physically and mentally. Though there’s always exceptions.”
Tim hummed thoughtfully. Something had been bothering him since ghosts had first entered the equation.
“Jazz, if ghosts don’t age or die, why aren’t they all over the place? Even if rifts are rare, shouldn’t there be hundreds of thousands of years worth of dead folks wandering the Earth?”
She gave him a sad smile.
“I never said ghosts couldn’t die, Adam,” she said carefully, ”And not everyone who dies comes back as a ghost. The ones who do typically have some unfinished business holding them back. Like an obsession they never got to fulfill, or a loved one they are watching over. Once they are done, they are free to move on to whatever Afterlife awaits them,” she sighed and crossed her arms, “It also takes a lot of energy for a ghost to do anything in our world. I think a majority of them never hit that level, or can’t keep it up for any significant amount of time. It’s also part of the reason my parents are so biased against them.”
“I’m not sure I follow.”
“Think about it. Most ecto-entities are just like regular people, going about their business and keeping their heads down. The ones who are both motivated to cross into our world, powerful enough to manifest and tend to make themselves known are the troublemakers. It would be like an alien looking at the population of Belle Reve and concluding that the majority of humans must be super villains! It’s sample bias.”
Tim bit his lip. This all sounded worryingly plausible, which would mean a literal world of trouble about to come down on their heads. Fuck, just what we needed.
“You mentioned that ghosts can die. I assume you don’t mean from old age, right?” he queried. Jazz looked at him wearily.
“You’d be right. If an ecto-entity’s core is too badly damaged, they will cease to exist,” she said cautiously, “It doesn’t help that ghosts tend to maintain a strength based social hierarchy and are fiercely protective of their territory. Ecto-entities usually have a lair within the Infinite Realms, and those who cross over to our dimension often establish a haunt to call their own. Any intruders would be met with violence,” she sighed and rubbed her forehead, “My parents have also been developing weapons to fight ghosts with… varying degrees of success. A lot of their tech runs on ectoplasm which makes it pretty temperamental.”
Seeing Jazz’s obvious discomfort with the topic, Tim decided to switch tracks.
“Is there any way to tell for sure if my brother came back as a ghost?”
Relieved at the change, Jazz made a see-sawing motion with her hand.
“Kind of? My parents tried for ages to build a ghost detector but they never got it to work quite right. Too much ambient ectoplasm in Amity I guess,” she shrugged as if that statement wasn’t extremely worrying. “You could always grab a ouija board or something and try asking. Just… don’t ask a ghost about their death. It’s a major trauma for most of them and there’s no better way to send them into a frothing rage. If they volunteer the information that’s one thing, but to ask about it is like the social faux pas among ecto-entities.”
Tim nodded and made a mental note to get his hands on some Fenton tech. He had a feeling it was going to be a long week for him.
Jason and Tim didn’t speak until they were safely back in the car. Tim was mentally composing the report they would have to make to Bruce. He was not looking forward to his reaction.
“So,” Jason began with fake casualness, “an interdimensional portal in Illinois.”
“Yep.”
“Creatures made of fucking Lazarus Water.”
“Sounds like it.”
“And we still don’t know if our mystery meta is Bruce’s dead kid or not.”
Tim groaned.
“It all adds up though, doesn’t it? The camera glitching, the powers, the portal…”
“And that damned prophecy. The personification of Time, huh?”
Tim pinched his nose to stave off the growing headache. They contemplated the fucked up situation they had stumbled into in silence for a few minutes. Finally, Jason sighed and started up the engine.
“Rock-paper-scissors for who has to tell B?”
Part 6
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Lover is a Day...
Gojo Satoru x Reader x Geto Suguru
The Cursed Trio | Softcore
**¡Halloween, tricotrí! ¡Dame chavos, no maní! ¡No te escondas que te vi, en la casa de Pepín!
** 09/20, 2:18 p.m. - Gege, when I fucking catch you... there are no spoilers in this episode btw
**09/20, 3:18 p.m. - I hope you're bullet proof, because once you make the parallels, this bout to h u r t
...
Yaga had a knack for playing the role of a silent observer, that is, when he wasn't giving your group an earful (specifically your lot) for indulging in the most ludicrous antics right in his classroom.
I swear I wrote about the carvings in a previous episode but idk which and on whose desk but it is what it is
Who could forget the time he went ballistic because you lot thought it'd be genius to carve your names into the wooden surface of your desk?
(Side Note: You were the one behind that plan, with Gojo egging on Suguru to join in. Suguru had been adamant on not doing it, but funnily enough, he was the first to carve his name on the wood.)
(Add-On: Ieiri was the one who had the blade, a simple scalpel she always seemed to have on hand. Strangely, she carried it with her wherever she went. When boredom struck, she'd use it to carefully trim the ends of her hair.)
Honestly, for someone who had a strong distaste for vandalism, Yaga surprisingly couldn't find it in his heart to sand those carvings away.
(Side Note: While tidying up one of the campus storage rooms, Maki stumbled upon your desk from your first year. It had been concealed beneath layers of dust and a hint of mildew. Curiosity piqued, she couldn't resist taking a closer look, and there, amidst the neglect, she discovered two unfamiliar names, etched alongside Gojo's. She never mentioned it to anyone, but the curiosity gnawed at her. Still, she knew better than to pry into the Six-Eye user's business.)
Yaga swore he didn't play favorites, but if you pressed him, he might just confess to having a soft spot for either you or Ieiri (although, to be honest, it leaned more toward you, especially since you never missed a Friday for knitting lessons). When it came to Ieiri, well, their interactions were usually filled with her nonchalant and uncaring attitude, making it a bit tough for Yaga to really bond with her.
Yaga, as the implications suggest, regarded you as kin, perhaps even more dearly than blood. This sentiment deepened upon discovering the harrowing circumstances of your arrival, the cruel treatment you endured at the hands of the elders—treatment he loathed to the core. Yet, despite this fierce indignation, he was trapped in a web of helplessness. He lacked the political clout and cursed energy prowess to challenge the elders, not for now, at least.
So, all he could do was try to make your time at Jujutsu High a bit more bearable. And let me tell you, that wasn't easy when you had to deal with an insufferable tampon and that crafty schemer.
However
With you around, Yaga felt a certain calmness settling among your trio. It seemed his earlier assumptions about the two boys were spot on.
Gojo, usually the master of comical antics, seemed to don a more serious demeanor when you or Suguru were around. Gone was the need to perform, as you often referred to it during your knitting lessons.
(Side Note: Your theory was that Gojo's act served two purposes. Firstly, it was his way of appearing more human than the god-like entity everyone saw him as. Secondly, you thought it was his subconscious attempt to relate to humans. Gojo had always been seen as incredibly arrogant, having lived a life where he was hailed as a god. But even gods, you mused, might grow tired of their divine status. Perhaps, occasionally, they wished to experience life from the perspective of an ordinary "ant.")
(Add-On: You shared this theory with Yaga during your 24th knitting lesson. By that point, you had grown comfortable enough to openly share your thoughts with him. You tended to be more talkative, showing a vulnerability that made Yaga want to protect you like the child you still were.)
Suguru projected an image of calm and composure, but Yaga could discern the undercurrent of anxiety beneath the surface. His leg would bounce with the weight of silent worries, and his eyes would dart from clock to board, back to the clock, to you and Gojo, and finally outside. It was a restless ritual, but the moment either Gojo or you uttered a word, whether directed at him or not, his demeanor would soften. His leg would cease its nervous dance, his shoulders relaxed, and the lines around his eyes would ease.
Ieiri, on the other hand, remained something of an enigma. She often appeared as a two-dimensional character, lacking clear purpose or direction. Her nonchalant, carefree attitude occasionally irked Yaga. However, he couldn't help but notice the subtle looks she cast your way. The faint smile that tugged at her lips when you playfully insulted Gojo for the simplest of actions. Her golden-brown eyes, fixed on the faint glow of your own eyes whenever you practiced your cursed technique in the training fields; it seemed she could hardly tear her gaze away from you.
Love could be so wicked at times
Especially in the Jujutsu world
As a teacher, Yaga was an astute observer. It was his duty to decipher each of your unique behaviors, allowing him to tailor his teaching methods to suit your individual needs. But that also meant, that he'd be forced to watch both your highs and your downs.
Gojo's smile, once a radiant beacon, gradually dimmed as your interactions increasingly revolved around Suguru. In contrast, Suguru seemed to lean on you for various things ---. he always kept a slight distance, just five steps behind, the once-prominent dark bags beneath his eyes now softened. It was as though his very gaze held you in existence, fearing that breaking eye contact might make you fade away.
You, on the other hand, avoided meeting Gojo's eyes, even refraining from playfully snatching his glasses, all to evade his probing scrutiny. A profound guilt welled within, but you maintained a cheerful façade when you looked up at the tall boy, your eyes closed in a half-smile.
Ieiri trailed behind the trio, her lips gracing a gentle yet melancholic smile, her ember eyes holding a distant quality as she observed the three of you. A flush colored her cheeks when you teased her with a sly grin, the playful gesture diverting her attention from any pressing questions.
He observed it all, sometimes wishing he could turn a blind eye to the subtle shifts in your group's dynamics. There were moments when he yearned for the courage to confront his students, but he pondered whether that would truly be the wisest course of action.
But dwelling on such thoughts had to wait, for now, he charged headlong into a horde of high-grade curses. Halloween, in his personal opinion, was among the most dreaded days of the year.
The streets came alive with a riot of Halloween decorations. Every lamppost was adorned with eerie cobwebs, and pumpkins with wicked grins lined the sidewalks. People roamed about, their faces concealed behind an assortment of masks and whimsical costumes, some posing for pictures while others sought to startle unsuspecting passersby with their ghoulish get-ups.
Above, the muffled thump of music from nearby nightclubs resonated through the air, intermingling with the boisterous chatter and sporadic shrieks of delight from the revelers below. The city had transformed into a carnival of the supernatural --- he despised it.
In an ironic twist, it felt like a taunt. Halloween, a night of heightened fear, saw curses rise to a crescendo of malevolence. These were no ordinary phantoms; they were vicious, craving blood and terror. Yet, the unassuming non-sorcerer folk continued to revel, blissfully ignorant of the holiday's perilous essence.
It stood as a paradox, a poignant reminder of the sacrifices made by his colleagues and students. Their valor had shielded these unsuspecting celebrants from the brink of a nightmarish fate.
The rational corner of his mind comprehended that they couldn't be blamed for their ignorance. This veil of secrecy was a necessity; envision the chaos if the ordinary populace were to uncover the truth. The mere panic could breathe fresh vitality into curses, a catastrophe waiting to unfold.
Yet, the acrid part, the facet he labored diligently to conceal, was far from understanding. It harbored a bitterness, an ever-present sting. Why had his students chosen the path of potential sacrifice for those who appeared indifferent, oblivious even?
Nevertheless, there was something oddly cathartic about exorcising scores of curses, with no discernible bounds to the might of his technique.
Still, a nagging thought persisted in the recesses of his mind, one that refused to be ignored — how were you and the rest of the group faring?
You were meant to be a team, a rare instance where the elders had paired you with Gojo and Suguru. Missions with just the three of you were almost unheard of, and Yaga had always been curious about the reason behind it. But every time he tried to bring it up, usually when he passed you some yarn, you'd get all defensive and tell him to hush before the elders caught wind of his questions.
(Side Note: I'm sure you're all wondering where everyone else is, so here's a quick update. The trio is holding down the fort in Shibuya with Yaga. Nanami and Yu have been dispatched near Kyoto, working alongside the students from Kyoto Jujutsu Tech. Meanwhile, Ieiri is back on campus, safe and sound, mentally preparing herself for the impending chaos when everyone returns, and she has to mend their wounds.)
(Add-On: Ieiri's usual smoke breaks lack the same charm without you there to light them up. It's just not quite the same.)
The memory of those moments still stung.
What exactly were you scared of? Because something must've scared you enough to deny him that piece of information, especially with how close the two of you have gotten.
(Side Note: Yaga was there to see the trio off. Surprisingly, you allowed him to pat your head, a simple but genuine gesture that warmed his heart. A grin threatened to spread across his face, but it was quickly overshadowed by Gojo's playful banter and Suguru's quiet laughter as they teased Yaga about wanting to be a father or something.)
(Add-On: You would never admit it, but you, too, felt the subtle warmth Yaga had alluded to. You watched his soul transition from its usual darkish purple to a fleeting, light orange glow, and it left you with an inexplicable sense of unease.)
Perched atop a towering skyscraper, Yaga allowed himself a stolen moment to survey the world below. In this rare interlude, a semblance of composure washed over him.
Since your arrival, not necessarily your fault alone, but a persistent unease had gnawed at him, weaving dread into the very sinews of his muscles and the calcium ions within his bones.
From this vantage point, he observed, as he always did.
On your side
There was an unsettling aura about a frowning Gojo, a sensation that gnawed at the core of things. It felt out of place, like a discordant note in an otherwise harmonious melody. A stoic facade, Suguru mused, would have been more fitting. Even tears, a rarity that would require an earth-shattering trauma, seemed a lesser evil than the frown that now etched itself upon Gojo's lips.
Was it Suguru's doing? Did his actions somehow bring this perpetual frown to Gojo's face? The questions swirled within him like a tempest, an unceasing storm of uncertainty.
"You know the truth," a voice echoed in the recesses of his mind, resonating with a cold and cutting edge that made him flinch. It was his voice, yet not his own.
He barely had time to complete his internal inquiry when his trajectory carried him toward an impending collision with the wall. That is, it would have if not for the interlocking web of chains, forming an impenetrable barrier that spared him from a potentially incapacitating crash.
Despite the quick save, Suguru swore under his breath as he felt a light pain blooming at his waist.
Nonetheless
Suguru couldn't help but offer a knowing smile as he redirected his gaze skyward. Above him, you soared, gracefully navigating from one chain to the next. The buildings became your towering trees, and the streets transformed into your verdant jungle.
Ugh, comparing you to Tarzan leaves a bad taste on my tongue for some reason
You didn't need words; he instantly grasped the meaning in your gaze. A gentle smile blossomed upon his lips, and he assured, "I'm fine."
With a stiff nod in response, you swiftly redirected your attention to a Grade-1 curse. Your chains sliced through it like needles through fabric, siphoning its cursed energy to unleash a cascade of attacks on surrounding curses.
But where was Gojo? The sound of shattering glass served as his only warning. Shards lightly scored his uniform and skin. Suguru's eyes narrowed in irritation and a hint of anger as he observed Gojo's stoic figure striding through the wreckage, seemingly unfazed by the chaos that surrounded him.
Tiny tears marred Suguru's cheeks as his uniform bore the brunt of the Force, revealing glimpses of skin through the delicate fabric wounds. Strangely, not a solitary drop of blood stained the scene.
He couldn't restrain his frustration, hurling curses at Gojo with palpable anger. "Oi, Satoru! Are you out of your fucking mind? You could've ended me right there!"
In response, Gojo couldn't resist an eye-roll. "Nah, you really wouldn't have."
Suguru's eye twitched at the albino's careless words, spine straight and shoulder stuff as he eyed the man before him. Meanwhile, Gojo looked absolutely bored out of his mind as he nonchalantly cleaned out his ear.
"Fucking bastard." "If you're so irked by me, come get me, asshole "
And so, the pissing match began once again.
Lately, their little 'spats' had escalated into something far more heated. What once was a light-hearted banter and a contest of egos had taken a darker turn about a week ago. The laughter that usually followed their bouts was now replaced by an uncomfortable tension.
And you were fully aware of the reasons behind this shift. But would you intervene? Well, that's still up for debate.
Just as the situation seemed on the verge of boiling over, your phone chimed with a familiar ringtone. A smile grazed your lips as you greeted the caller with a lightness in your voice.
"Everything going well on your end, Kento? Is Yu doing fine?"
As you spoke, you couldn't help but notice a sneaky curse trying to creep up on Gojo. It's tendrils aiming for his rights side. With a casual flick of your wrist, your chains skewered the unwelcome visitor. The abrupt action prompted Gojo to cast an inscrutable look your way, sending a shiver down your spine.
He's still hanging in there, so I guess he's doing alright." In the background, another voice piped up, "Is that who I think it is? Give 'em a shout from me!" You couldn't help but chuckle as Kento let out a melodramatic sigh, "You heard?"
You replied, "Yep. Tell him I said hi back. And pass along the same for Mei-Mei and Utahime."
Kento quipped, "You're pushing your luck."
With a casual flick of your wrist, you dispatched yet another mess of foul goo.
"Why the call?" you asked. "...No reason," came Kento's mysterious reply. You grinned, "Ah, I see."
(Side Note: In the current scene, Yu found himself in a comically dire situation. A curse had him pinned down, and he flailed his arms around, calling out for Mei Mei's assistance. Mei Mei, thoroughly entertained by this display, couldn't help but find Yu's predicament rather endearing. She watched, amused, though she refrained from helping him until Utahime, embroiled in her own battle against two curses, shouted at Mei-Mei to come to Yu's aid.)
(Add-On: Utahime was seriously on edge; this year's Halloween curses were exceptionally gruesome. Just catching sight of them was enough to rattle her nerves. She had half a mind to go say 'fuck it' and haul ass screaming like a little bitch. No judgement here cuz same)
Suddenly, you sensed a stray piece of debris hurtling toward your head. In a swift motion, your chains sprang to life, obliterating it before it could reach you. You shot an exasperated glance at Suguru and Gojo, who seemed engrossed in their peculiar spar—basically, just tossing things at each other.
Your patience snapped, and you hollered at them to cease their antics and refocus on the mission. Before they could react, your chains coiled around them, effectively immobilizing the duo.
Suguru relented with a pout, while Gojo couldn't resist a snarky comment. "Always knew you were kinky."
Your response triggered Kento's voice blasting through the phone in a tirade against Gojo's behavior, which only fueled Gojo's maniacal laughter.
(Side Note: Gojo didn't particularly want to laugh, but it seemed like an obligatory performance at this point.)
With an eye-roll, you shifted your attention back to the call. "We're almost done here, so no worries."
"Alright, stay safe. Don't trust those dumbasses for anything," Kento admonished before ending the call, leaving you quietly chuckling.
The tension was as palpable as ever, making the mission feel like walking on eggshells. You glanced at Gojo and Suguru, both now reluctantly cooperating. What started as a straightforward task had somehow morphed into a convoluted dance of egos.
As you ventured further into the cursed zone, the silence weighed heavily on the trio. Gojo's trademark smirk, usually as constant as the North Star, had transformed into a stern expression, his gaze fixated on the distance. Meanwhile, Suguru's fists were clenched, jaw locked tight.
Shit
Once upon a time, these two had been inseparable, but now it was like watching two tectonic plates slowly drift apart.
As you ventured deeper into the cursed alleyway, the oppressive darkness seemed to swallow you whole. The narrow passageway twisted and turned, like a labyrinth designed by, uh, by ---- oh, fuck it. You don't have time to think about it as you use your technique to identify the more hidden curses.
You cursed under your breath as bits of your clothing became stained by the grime of the walls. Filthy, damp walls pressed in from both sides, making it feel like there was no way out. Absolutely fucking disgusting.
Gojo led the way, his steps echoing off the grimy pavement as he followed the faint trail of minor curses. Suguru trailed behind, his frustration simmering beneath the surface.
The darkness was thick, and the tension among your trio hung heavy in the air. It felt like a pressure cooker, waiting to explode at any moment. The distant cries of curses only added to the eerie fucked up atmosphere.
Gojo moved with an effortless grace, his sapphire eyes ablaze with cursed energy as he obliterated curses left and right. His movements were fluid, almost elegant, as he dispatched each threat with swift precision.
On the other hand, Suguru was growing increasingly agitated. He watched the curses he could've consumed vanish into wisps of nothingness with each sweep of Gojo's hand. His frustration simmered beneath his skin, boiling over into anger.
"Dammit, Satoru," Suguru glared, voice laced with annoyance. "I could've used some of those."
Gojo barely spared him a glance, his focus unwavering. "Too bad, so sad. You've got plenty in your arsenal already, Suguru. Don't get greedy."
Cue that angry mark thing on Suguru's forehead
You couldn't help but sigh internally, "I swear --- it's like a fucking k-drama breakup or something. Unbelievable."
But this was your fault
No, this is just things that have been simmering for a while finally boiling over.
And just what exactly prompted this...'simmering of feelings'?
...check your fucking tone and fix that attitude of yours.
Or what? You'll kill me. Please, I'd like to see you try.
Fuck. You.
Also...
What?
Watch out, hehe.
(Side Note: When stressed, you curse. A lot. )
Suddenly, an especially powerful curse materialized, catching you off guard. It lunged at you, the impact sending you crashing into the nearby shop's window. The glass shattered like your composure, and blood painted the scene.
Time seemed to slow to a crawl as you were hurled through the air and into the glass window. The shards of glass seemed to glisten in a surreal dance of glimmers and reflections, and for a brief moment, the shattered glass created a fragmented tapestry of the scene, as if you were glimpsing reality through a shattered mirror.
Blue rose petals descended gracefully, an ethereal contrast to the crimson stains on your battered form. They tumbled from an unseen sky, their delicate dance casting an otherworldly beauty over the grim tableau.
Upon collision with the glass, it shattered into a symphony of discordant notes, the cacophony ringing in your ears. The shards dug into your flesh, tearing at your clothes, and for a suspended moment, the world seemed crystallized in chaos.
Lying there, gasping for air and stinging with pain, you took in the surreal sight of the blue rose petals falling around you. In the corners of your quickly fading vision, you saw flower pots and greenery --- it felt like you were back in Yu's dorm room. Safe and warm.
Oh, it's a flower shop.
First off, why the fuck is there a flower shop at the end of some random creepy ass alleyway?
Second off, why was it so quiet?
The eerie silence settled like a heavy fog, muffling the once-chaotic sounds of curses. You furrowed your brow, puzzled by their sudden disappearance. Where had they—
In a sudden and almost comically abrupt fashion, the souls of Suguru and Gojo popped into your field of vision. It was as if they had teleported into view, their ghostly forms shimmering with an otherworldly light.
You couldn't help but blink in surprise, their appearance catching you off guard amidst the strange stillness of the cursed zone.
"Fucking hell," you swore under your breath as you felt one of the two gently pick up your head before leveling it on a soft warm --- thighs. Bony ones at that so it had to be Gojo.
(Side Note: You couldn't help but instinctively reach out to palm the limb, the blood seeping from your scraped hands staining Gojo's pants.)
Suguru dropped to his knees beside you, his face etched with deep concern, his eyes darting anxiously over your wounds. He hovered his hands over the injuries, torn between wanting to help and the uncertainty of what to do next. The injuries weren't life-threatening, but they were far from insignificant.
"Hey, are you okay?" Suguru's voice quivered with genuine worry as he assessed the damage. "Damn it, you're bleeding..." Panic flickered across his features as he glanced at the blood, his usually composed demeanor giving way to concern.
His soul was crying
Gojo remained uncharacteristically silent, his lips parting only to remove his glasses. His gaze locked onto your injured face, and in that fleeting moment when your eyes met, it was a meeting of pearlescent and iridescent. The connection would've been near-perfect if it weren't for...
Before the thought could fully form, Gojo finally broke his silence. His expression turned grave, and he spoke in a low, almost breathless tone, "Use your chains on me."
You couldn't help but snort with amusement, even as a wince of pain crossed your face. "Now, who's the kinky one," you quipped, your voice laced with playful sarcasm.
If you weren't injured, Gojo might have smacked the shit out if you, but in this situation, he opted for a sharp pinch on your arm until you acquiesced.
Drawing cursed energy from people was always a unique experience, but what intrigued you even more was the distinctiveness of each person's energy.
Suguru's had a bittersweet undertone, much like his tea, while Gojo's... Well, perhaps it was his cursed technique, but it felt almost exhilarating. Sweet, like his insatiable sweet tooth, and undeniably stimulating.
Your blood raced with adrenaline, and you couldn't help but savor the taste of Gojo's energy. It was strangely addictive, and you found yourself wanting more, even as you noticed the tremble in his soul.
Separating your chains from their souls, a shiver of relief coursed through your body as most of your injuries miraculously began to heal. With a soft hum of gratitude, you muttered a quiet thank you under your breath. With Suguru and Gojo's assistance, you managed to sit up on the pile of debris.
"Are you guys okay?" you inquired, concern lacing your words.
Suguru, still clearly shaken by the events, snapped, "You almost die, and you ask US if we're okay?" He couldn't hide his worry, despite his gruff tone.
You let out a playful pout as you leaned into the warmth of Gojo's hands, tilting your head back like a whiny child. "Well, fuck you too, Suguru." "Don't you curse at me, you little-"
As you and Suguru continued your bickering, Gojo calmly brought you closer, positioning you against his body and enveloping your waist with his arms. His chin rested on your shoulder, and he let out a quiet exhale that felt like a sigh of relief.
(Side Note: The exhale was so strong that it lightly pulled on your moon earring. The very one Gojo gifted you.)
You froze at the unexpected closeness, momentarily taken aback, while Suguru observed in silence, a pensive expression clouding his face.
One beat
"You two really pissed me off, ya know?" Gojo's words carried an unusual weight, and both you and Suguru had never heard him sound so sullen. It wasn't meekness; Gojo could never be meek or weak, but his voice seemed, in that moment, small.
Though you couldn't see his face, you could sense the tremor in his voice, and it sent a chill down your spine.
Two beats
Both Suguru and you dared not to speak as Gojo continued to talk, his grip on you tightening ever so slightly as he spoke. It was as if he had to physically restrain himself from retreating into his usual emotional barriers.
"You disappear for a few days, and suddenly, you're both different. And then, it's like I don't even exist. You made me feel..."
Three beats
"Unwanted? Jealous? Neglected?" You interjected softly, your voice tinged with understanding. Gojo pinched your side, causing you to wince, and earning a sharp glare from Suguru. "Don't fucking psychoanalyze me."
"Sorry," you murmured, sensing the tension in his voice.
Four beats
Gojo tightened his hold on you, his voice muffled against your shoulder, "I didn't know what to do. I hate not knowing what to do."
Suguru leaned against the wall, seemingly lost in thought. "Typical Satoru. Always the 'strongest' but falls apart when emotions come into play." You clenched your jaw.
Five beats
"Suguru. Not now." You swore you saw a flicker of a satisfied smirk on the albino's face as you scolded said male. "Gojo, stop smirking." Now it was Suguru's turn to smirk.
(Side Note: Gojo was so ridiculously satisfied.)
From the corner of your eye, you spotted something amidst the rubble. Leaning over to pick it up, a soft chuckle escaped your lips as you realized it was a nondescript bottle of sake.
Nothing too distinctive, just an ordinary bottle of sake.
Balancing it in your hand, you inhaled the aroma as you uncorked it. A soft sigh escaped, and a small smile graced your face.
As you took a cautious sip from the bottle, you were pleasantly surprised by its smooth and mellow flavor. The warmth of the sake spread through you --- a nice contrast to the cold air of Japan.
"Are you serious right now?" Suguru's voice resonated through the eerie silence of the ravaged flower shop. With a shrug, you tossed the bottle to Gojo.
Gojo grimaced, "You're seriously gross right now. Who knows where that's been?"
You rolled your eyes at his comment, "Well, either drink it and unwind or ditch it to relieve some stress."
He stared down at you for a good three minutes, his expression still contorted, before finally grunting and taking a sip. The effect was nearly instantaneous as the young Six-Eye User's tense shoulders relaxed.
Six beats
The severity in his gaze softened as he turned his attention to Suguru, who wore a similarly displeased expression.
With the bottle held in his large hands, Gojo seemed poised to throw it at the raven-haired man, but at the eleventh hour, he offered it instead. Their fingers brushed for a fleeting heartbeat as Suguru savored a modest sip.
A sigh escaped his lips as he let the alcohol slide down his throat, his shoulders dropping in a similar manner like Gojo as you silently stayed within the albino's arms.
A hush blossomed among the three of you, your gazes fixed on various points, as if deliberately avoiding eye contact with each other.
Yet, even in that unspoken silence, it seemed as if words were superfluous. Simply being present in that moment, basking in each other's auras and existence, sufficed to transmit everyone's sentiments.
Amidst the remnants of the flower shop, with broken petals strewn about like the memories of a fading dream, a subtle breeze whispered its way through the shattered windows, carrying the scent of blossoms that once danced in vibrant hues. And a soft, distant chirping of birds carried through the broken windows --- ah, it was morning already.
Suguru, his grip on the sake bottle loosening, glanced around at the desolation surrounding you. His eyes, once filled with annoyance, now held a touch of melancholy.
Suguru's gaze finally shifted, meeting Gojo's eyes for the briefest of moments. A flicker of understanding passed between them, a silent acknowledgment of...something.
As if by an unspoken agreement, Gojo lifted the bottle once more, offering it to Suguru. With a nod of appreciation, Suguru accepted, their bond acknowledged in this simple act.
You couldn't help but make an undignified noise as you tried to reach for the bottle, "Oi! Don't drink it all, I want some too!"
With a playful smirk, Gojo leaned slightly away from Suguru, extending the bottle above you, just out of your reach. "Oh, you want some too?" he teased, a hint of amusement in his voice.
Suguru joined in with a sly grin, "You know, sharing is caring."
You responded with an exasperated sigh, your attempt to grab the bottle foiled by Gojo's playful maneuvering. "Alright, alright, you guys win. Just pass it over here before I start feeling left out." Ironic.
Gojo and Suguru persisted in their playful teasing, much to your chagrin, as you struggled within Gojo's grasp to lower his arm, desperately attempting to reach the bottle he held aloft. Suguru's laughter echoed through the room, while Gojo cackled with the exuberance of a madman.
From his vantage point, Yaga couldn't suppress a chuckle as he witnessed the scene unfold. It warmed his heart to see the tension between the three of you dissipate—perhaps not entirely, but enough that he believed everyone would experience a sense of relief come the next school day.
Seven beats
...
Song Inspo: Ray Laurél - CHARLES JEFFREY
(A/N): Hopefully, one day I'll see TCT on a 'JJK Tumblr fanfic recommendations' TikTok vid --- the moment people recommend this to others on that fucking app, that's when I know I'm doing a good job 💀
Valeria Garza has a chokehold on me rn. Ooo, should I write for CoD? It'd be interesting deciphering their personalities considering the shit load of trauma they all got going on.
09/20 - In the middle of writing this, a kitten sucked into my yard and I have dogs. I had to pry the poor thing out of their mouths (it's alive! Ran off tho). Unfortunately, the kitten did bite me. So I'm not writing this with an injured hand and a prayer that I don't have an infection. 🥹
09/21 - Just as I was finishing up, I received an e-mail from the Head of my Bachelor's Department saying that my current classes were not valid for my degree and that I'd have to re-enroll. I spent a whole 15 minutes bawling my eyes out, crying to mami on the phone before the mother fuckers had the nerve to tell me it was an error and I'm fine.
09/23 - it's like 12am rn and the most horrible thing happened and ugh, I could not stop bawling my eyes out and I was bleeding everywhere. I'm fine now but like damn bro.
Originally:
This episode was supposed to be published on September 20 due to, uh, reasons. (JJK 236 spoilers parallel) However, shit happened and I didn't publish it in time. My bad bros, hoes, and non-binaries bitches.
Originally, I had planned to kick off this episode from Suguru's or someone else's perspective – anyone but Yaga's. But, at the last second, I realized we needed a bit more Yaga content. Plus, it'd be intriguing to delve into his viewpoint regarding the cursed trio's dynamics and all that jazz.
"...gentle yet melancholic smile," was actually supposed to just be a 'gentle small smile.' This is because Ieiri was just happy to be there within the boundaries of your presence. But I changed it because, when written this way, it just confirms that Ieiri knows her status in the group. As in, she doesn't have an actual status.
"...Nah, you really wouldn't have." Was actually, "Oh come on, Suguru. You know I wouldn't go that far."
The plan for this episode was to kick off near a flower shop, but fate had other ideas. It concluded right at a flower shop instead.
"The narrow passageway twisted and turned, like a labyrinth designed by, uh, by ---- oh, fuck it." This was actually supposed to reference the ancient King of Curses but I couldn't figure how to do it, so I genuinely said fuck it.
"Don't fucking psychoanalyze me," was supposed to be, "So you knew yet you did nothing?" This is to imply your avoidance of confrontations. Maybe foreshadowing too.
Originally, you were going to apologize to Gojo for everything but then, as an author, I realized that the cursed trio are a bunch of teenagers put in the riskiest of situations with severe vulnerability problems and communication issues, hence the silence and the avoidance of eye contact.
This switch to Yaga as the main POV in this episode kind of plays with that idea that teachers are always watching their students, even if it doesn't seem like it. It's not just about observing; it's about whether they decide to take action or simply stay on the sidelines.
Ngl, certain characters, in canon, feel rather two-dimensional. Maybe, it's because I haven't really read the manga or finished the anime --- but like yeah. So I like exploring them, giving them depth and stuff like that. Like Yaga, Yu, Ieiri, and others.
Suguru narrowly escaped critical injury thanks to your swift response, an imperceptible wall formed by hundreds of tiny chains that perpetually encircled him, akin to a vigilant guardian.
Though invisible to Suguru's eyes, these chains remained visible to Gojo's discerning gaze. In truth, this visibility was the sole reason Gojo took the actions he did.
Suguru's lack of injuries was all thanks to a secret chain connected to his soul. It channeled cursed energy into him, helping him heal swiftly. The finer details of this ability were still a bit hazy, but that's a tale for another day.
The elders, were deep into an emergency meeting, no doubt wrestling with the current crisis. Or so, one would think.
"And so, the pissing match began once again." After this line, I genuinely had no idea what to write next. So I chose to involve the one character that just feels right to write about.
Kento's call came in the wake of an extremely close call, and he needed something to anchor him back to reality before diving back into his mission. The soothing sound of your voice, coupled with Yu's presence, worked like a balm on his nerves. (But you thought it was because he was worried about you. Which, technically, is true but that's beside the point.)
Episode: Borderline --- "...Keep it vague, just like your pointless existence." Goes hand in hand with, "...Or what? You'll kill me. Please, I'd like to see you try." Was that your own self-deprecating thoughts, or ???
The reason why Suguru's hands hovered was because he was afraid of causing more damage.
It wasn't his energy that made his soul quiver; it was the fear of losing you.
I wanted to have a little fun so I made that what you eat the most is what your cursed energy either feels like or tastes like. 🤷
As for Gojo, his Infinity vanished the moment he saw you crash through the flower shop window. The sheer shock and horror of the scene caused him to unintentionally drop it.
Typically, Gojo's soul is shielded from your sight due to the nature of his Infinity. However, when he released it, you were able to catch a glimpse of his presence, marked by a curious warp-like effect.
"It was strangely addictive, and you found yourself wanting more, even as you noticed the tremble in his soul." Energy vampire much?
The fact that you only ever truly feel safe is when you're in Yu's dorm room surrounded by his plants.
You intentionally left some minor wounds untreated, a small act of consideration for Ieiri. It would give her something to do when she arrived, and you secretly longed to be in her presence again.
"It was his voice, yet not his own." Is a reference to Suguru's creeping depression as well as an indirect reference to Kenjaku.
"...Are you out of your fucking mind?" Is Suguru referencing Gojo's technique and how it fries the brain to a crisp.
"Suguru swore under his breath as he felt a light pain blooming at his waist." and "...it's tendrils aiming for his right side" is a reference.
Note how, even though Gojo always keeps his Infinity on (or almost always) along with the fact that he's a Special Grade sorcerer, you still felt the need to protect his back from the minor curse.
The North Star symbolizes guidance, direction, stability and purpose. And no matter what, it stays in the same place no matter what goes around it.
It's not a glass ceiling, but rather a glass wall. Which can be interpreted in multiple manners. It can be the wall between you and Gojo, despite being able to see each other so clearly, a wall remains. The shattering of it representing your agreement in acknowledging the connection.
Or, it's the slow shattering of the Curses Trio's reality as we near Spring.
Or, it's foreshadowing.
Blue roses signify the unattainable. It's like a longing for something to exist, but it forever eludes your grasp. This is a direct reference to the Jujutsu Kaisen Season 1 Opening where Gojo carries around a bouquet of blue roses.
In this episode, the clash of "Pearlescent vs. Iridescent" gave way to a harmonious fusion of Pearlescent AND Iridescent. This is to reference that an emotional connection has been officially acknowledged. Not made but acknowledged.
"The connection would've been near-perfect if it weren't for..." His being is near-perfect in your eyes because if he had just never been born with Six-Eyes, you'd love his blissful ignorance
Although Suguru might be considered your closest friend (in Gojo's mind at least), it was Gojo you instinctively reached out to. Ironic considering how long you've been trying to emotionally avoid him.
If my memory serves me right, the traditional act of sharing a bottle of sake signifies a union among individuals, and for this particular chapter, it felt more like the forging of a soulful connection, a merging of three souls into one. You could even liken it to a form of matrimony.
The consistent theme remained that open communication was a challenge among the three of you. You rarely delved into meaningful discussions, each holding back in your own way. (Communication may be key, but understanding is the door.)
The heart beats are a reference to another Episode, but I don't remember which. Oops.
Gojo didn't throw the bottle at Suguru because he was genuinely tired of fighting with the bestie --- he just wanted you and Suguru back.
Yaga being the silent observer says A LOT. You just don't realize it.
What was the meeting about?
Were you talking to your continually fracturing mind or someone else?
And what exactly did you mean when you said you saw scenes in the shattered glass?
Drop a comment!
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Hope you enjoyed!
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