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kingofangst · 6 months

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A Senpai's Sacrifice

OKAY RIGHT NOW I AM IN MY FEELS OF ANGST AND SADNES. I AM COPING RIGHT NOW.

So here is a bittersweet one-shot I created, where surname-san makes a tough decision and sacrifice! While I incorporated some of the lyrics of Unravel by TK Ling (DIsclaimer: I do not own the rights to this song) to darken the mood. This has nothing to do with my Jujutsu Kaisen fanfic au: A Nexis's Peril, this is a totally different oneshot I wrote myself. Enjoy the derpession!

Characters: Itadori Yuji, Kugisaku Nobara, Mahito, past reader, past Satoru Gojo, reader-senpai, reader is gender-neutral

Warnings: Graphic violence, past bullying, that's about it

P.S: Made some edits when I noticed I saw some typos and I had to change it from "he" to "they" to make it gender-neutral. Sorry about that!

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There were...there are two Mahitos. That explains why Nobara damaged Mahito's soul, she fought a clone and used her resonance to Mahito's clone as an effigy to damage Mahito's soul-

Their blood freezes when the real Mahito switches places with his clone

"RUUUNNN!!! KUGISAKI!!!"

The pain in Itadori's voice made Surname-san recoil, but pales in comparison as they watch the real Mahito charge at Kugisaki who is in shock at the scene before her. Then everything went in slow-motion…

No...no no no no no no no no NO!

This wasn't how things were supposed to end...they didn't expect things to turn out this bad without Gojo-sensei…

Kugisaku...Kugisaki...Kugisaki...Kugisaki...KUGISAKI!!!

They can't afford to see their own kouhai, who they watched grow in the past months, this fiery and passionate girl of steel taking out two Special Grade curses with Itadori 5 weeks ago, die in front of them or Itadori who has already lost so much...from Shibuya's destruction...Nanami-sensei's death…

There's no place in this world that they would want more than to see their kouhais safe and happy, away from all of this...Okinawa sounds like a happier place to be in than here…

"Cursed Technique: Kyomu no Ten'i..." They manifest with their cursed energy, having their hands out, creating a sphere of black energy, getting lighter and lighter as they prepare themselves for their last stand…

"...Shin'en no Kokan!"

"You're a weird kid, you know that?"

"Huh?" They question, looking up at a classmate in their 4th grade science classroom, eyeing the other kid.

"I said you're weird...how are you even good at making things explode when you can't even make friends?"

Those were the words that stuck inside of 10 year-old Surname-san's head since the 4th grade. They weren't the most sociable kid, nor the funniest, nor the most popular. But they knew they were different from anyone else in that classroom and in the school. How does one explain to someone who is purely human that they can see curses at a young age?

Oshiete oshiete yo sono shikumi wo

Surname-san saw the green and purple curse swarming around the antagonistic kid's shoulders like a cobra, it's weird seven eyes staring back at their eyes. Of course, Surname-san didn't do much except leave, as the kid continued to shout and bully them as they walked away. School was horrible, life was horrible as a foster kid, they had no will or desire to even fix things. They thought they were cursed since birth.

Boku no naka ni da ga iru no?

A week after their hardships, a tragedy happened, one that happened in their school. The day that they lost their entire class and grade to a horrific curse…the very same one that was on the kid that bullied them…

Kowareta, Kowareta yo kono sekai de

The hideous, cobra-like curse, slithering towards them from corpse to corpse, taking one life after another while they watch the carnage before them, shivering in fear

Kimi ga warau nanimo miezu ni

Running through the bloodied hallways of the school while the curse was hot on their trail wanting to consume them and their soul, shouting eerily “you’re weird!” “you will never make friends!” “why can’t you just die?” the words are all too familiar, from the very voice of the boy that is now dead. Now they stood in a corner and trapped between a wall and the path of where the curse was, hissing with a maniacal grin. The individual felt scared, horrified and was the only one alive against this very strong, hideous being.

Beings they have seen on a regular basis, the sheer malevolence and disturbance of them from humans. As the curse leaped forward and went in for the kill, the individual shielded their faces as if to not face the gruesome fate that awaited them, unknowingly producing black circles that shot out to the curse. Instead of hearing their flesh and bones crack, they heard thuds and sounds of pain yelps. They open their eyes to see a shocking sight before them. The curse, in pieces, held separately by black swirling voids, crying in pain before starting to vanish into thin air.

Kowareta boku nante sa iki wo tomete

They never knew they could produce such abilities from their hands. How on Earth did they do such a thing? The crashing of windows burst through, shattering on the floor, startling them when a tall figure with white hair, all dressed in black with shades lands on the floor, their feet crunching the glass that shattered. The male, looking between them and the now evaporating curse and the odd, circular black things exorcising the curse, is surprised and impressed. He watches the curse being destroyed, before walking up to the frightened child that began crying silently.

Hodokenai mou hodokenai yo shinjitsu sae freeze

“That was you?”

“H-Hai- I don’t know I- I don’t know what I did b-but everyone d-died and it chased me and I-I…I was running and I d-didn’t want this to eat…eat me-!” Their hiccups and sobs overtook their voice as the taller figure realized what this kid had before pulling him into a hug after a traumatic and grotesque event.

Kowaseru kowasenai kurueru kuruenai anata wo mitsukete

“Kid, what’s your name?”

“Surname first-name…” They sobbed into the male’s chest, finally letting out their pent up emotions of being bullied from school and foster care, not being seen as a person, not being defended by the guardians at foster care, not being able to have a happy life since birth. They felt cursed and just wanted to be erased from this world.

“You’re not a curse…” Is what the male tells them is what makes them realize they said it out loud. “You are a special human being. One that can control your cursed energy and can be able to use a cursed technique. Surname-san, my name is Satoru Gojo, and you are a sorcerer. I see you’ve had a rough life judging by what you said out loud. So let’s forget about that, forget what life throws at you, and let me help train you?”

And so, they took his hand, out of awe and pent up emotions of what this male told them, saying “You’ll be doing amazing things, surname-san.”

“SURNAME-SENPAI!!”

YURETA YUGANDA SEKAI NI DANDAN BOKU WA SUKITOTTE MIENAKU NATTE

One second, Kugisaki found herself in shock, staring at Mahito’s hand inches away from her face, then the next second being pulled in a black void that was endless, before seeing light and same beige tiles of the place she was in, falling beside Itadori whose pained shout she heard echo the hallway. She turns in time to see her senpai, in the exact place she was in, horror taking her features as Mahito’s hand swipes Surname-san’s face. They switched places with her!

"Surname-senpai! What the hell did you do!?"

MITSUKENAIDE BOKU NO KOTO WA MITSUMENAIDE

So this is what it feels like to be touched by Idle Transfiguration, they think as Mahito’s evil cackle erupts in the atmosphere before gripping their head in discomfort. They already felt their soul begin to unravel, their brain starting to become painful.

Kugisaki didn't want to admit the grim truth of their senpai's actions. But no matter how much she tried to think otherwise, she couldn't think of one. Because...Surname-senpai sacrificed their life for her by switching places at the exact moment Mahito was supposed to touch her, and taking her place.

DAREKA GA EGAITA SEKAI NO NAKE DE ANATA WO KIZUTSUKETAKU WA NAI YO

“SENPAI!!!” Both of their voices called them out, fear and horror in their tone. This isn’t how they wanted to die, or go out. But if it means to save someone younger than them, then it’s worth that sacrifice. The memories of them since entering Tokyo Jujutsu Tech pouring in like a movie film, each memory of them with their classmates…

Maki…Toge…Panda…Yuta…gomenasai…looks like I won’t be treating you all to sukiyaki at Ginza…

"Gomen, Kugisaki but I promised Nitta-chan and Maki that I'd help you survive." They chuckle sadly, knowing the pain is only increasing and seeing Kugisaki's angry and horrified expression with Itadori's terrified one.

OBOETEITE BOKU NO KOTO WO

The drops of blood from both of their nasal holes, dripping rapidly, along with their head feeling as if it is going to implode, makes them gaze up to the scared eyes of Itadori and Kugisaki, their eyes widening in horror at how Surname-san is looking. I am so sorry you have to see this…

Oshiete

Maki…Yuta…Toge…Panda…Hakari…Hoshi…Gojo-sensei…Fushiguro-kun…Yaga-san…Ieiri-san…I…I am so sorry for this…I can’t make my promise…but…arigato

Oshiete

“Itadori-kun, Kugisaki-chan…thank you…for making me believe I was a good person…live a long life…both of you…”

Boku no naka ni

Those were the final words of their senpai, before hearing a gross popping, then witnessing their head explode into flesh, blood and brain matter scattering the floor and their uniform before the headless corpse falls to the floor with a sickening crack to the floor.

Then, the hallways echoed nothing but Itadori’s and Kugisaki’s cries…while Mahito was cackling at the demise of someone important to them

Dare ga iru no?

Itadori's cries echo the hallways the loudest alongside Kugisaki's crestfallen and tear-gazed expression. Itadori couldn't take it anymore...the tears cascacding down his face as his eyes lose the brightness in them completely.

Their senpai's bloody, mutilated and headless corpse was in front of them.

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Congratulations, you'll have depression now. You're welcome!

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supercutszns · 5 months

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a place with you; luke castellan

wc: 2.8k (got a little carried away whoops)

pairing: luke castellan x f! reader

synopsis: luke is used to people coming in and out of hermes’ cabin without a second thought. so when you’re having a hard time adjusting to camp life, he doesn’t expect you to stick by his side, even after you’re claimed.

warnings/notes: shy reader going through a tough time, hurt/comfort, pining, kisses, fluff, potential ooc luke i don’t know what i’m doing, most of this is prob inaccurate lol, i got wayyy too attatched to this i am sorry, title inspired by dragon eyes by adrianne lenker

Luke Castellan is the son of a messenger. He’s used to delivering, passing things along, letting them enter his life and leave him. Sometimes it makes him angry. At his father, at the world, at himself.

So when you passed through the Hermes cabin for the inevitable few weeks before getting claimed by your Godly parent, the last thing Luke expected was for you to stay.

When you first got to camp you were terrified. Luke remembers that much. He can still picture you in Chiron’s towering shadow as he led you up to Hermes cabin. He gave you the usual spiel about the cabin, the land of the unclaimed, but it clearly hadn’t quelled your nerves. You were wringing your fingers together when Luke first spotted you, your eyes blown wide in what he knew as shock and a sort of . . . grief. For a life you’d left for what Luke knows as a life you’d never really have. He’d seen it in so many campers before you. He’d see it many times after.

“This is Luke, Hermes’ head counsellor and one of Camp Half-Blood’s finest,” Chiron pointed him out to you at the entrance. After Chiron introduced you, Luke held your name in his memory. Not because there was anything particularly intriguing about you at first, to be honest, because he’d seen a lot of people like you that needed help settling in (although maybe not many his age). It was harder for some people to adjust than most. He knew that better than anyone.

“Nice to meet you,” he stuck out his hand for you to shake after Chiron left. “I’m Luke.”

You sniffed, shaking it without looking at him. You were so, so embarrassed. This whole time you’d been too stupidly overwhelmed to process anything. Why was this so hard for you? Was it this hard for everyone? “Hi,” you managed, and that was it.

Now, weeks after your first meeting, you’ve concluded that it was not, in fact, this hard for everyone. The camp is crowded but full of life. You’ve never seen more happy kids in your life. There’s a sense of community on the wind.

So why can’t you feel it? Why is it so hard to connect with people? To participate in the fun? Everywhere you look there’s people but it’s all just so . . . lonely. You don’t fit. You’re lost.

Luke wakes up at night when the cabin door creaks open. He’s already tossing, so it’s no surprise he catches it. Unfortunately, he’s supposed to be a good counsellor—sneaking out at night is against the rules, and you’ve gotta reign the strays back in before they cause a ruckus. Sure, Luke’s not exactly a stickler for the law, but the least he owes is to make sure everyone’s safe.

Groaning, he draws himself out of the comfort of his bunk but doesn’t get far when he spots a familiar silhouette slipping out the door. He knows it’s you. He’s been hearing crying at night, and this is confirming his suspicions. It makes him ache in a million different places. Every time he thought about approaching you he shut himself down almost instantly, because who the hell wants some random guy coming up to them in the middle of the night and drawing attention?

This time, though, he’s a little worried.

It’s chilly tonight but not too bad, especially when you’re huddled up in a ball on a hill in front of the lake, grass tickling your ankles. Your tears keep you warm.

It’s a sorrow that feels bottomless. You don’t know what’s gotten into you. You don’t know why everything’s so hard.

There’s a scuffling of shoes, and your name is carried to you on the heels of a breeze. Oh God. There’s someone else here.

You sniff and smear your tears on the palms of your hands the best you can but a little part of you only wants to cry more now that you’re all anxious, and you only have a few seconds to collect yourself before you turn around and see Luke, your cabin leader, with furrowed brows. “Oh, h-hi, Luke.” It’s hard to ignore the splinter in your voice. You curse yourself a thousand times.

“Hey,” he says hesitantly, eyeing you in a way that makes you feel entirely exposed. “You, uh, you know you’re not technically supposed to be out here, right?”

You start to scramble to your feet with an apology on your tongue but surprisingly he laughs, a gentle sound, and beckons you to sit back down. “No, no, I’m not gonna get you in trouble or anything, just . . . letting you know.”

It’s uncertain if you should keep sitting, but you decide to because well, you’re already down here, and things can’t go lower than this. Luke comes to sit next to you and you stare out into the sea like your life depends on it. “Wanna talk about why you’re out here?”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“I mean,” Luke sighs, scooting a little closer to you. “Most people don’t up and leave in the middle of the night because they’re having a great time.”

The answer is too hard to say so you don’t reply.

Again, Luke sighs, and you try not to look at the shadow the moon casts on his admittedly handsome face. “It’s hard settling in, I know. It happens to a lot of people. I’ve . . . I’ve seen a lot of them, and it doesn’t get any easier.”

“Well it sure seems easier,” you snap, and your self-control flies away before you can stop it. “I have no idea why I can’t just suck it up and fit in here. Everyone seems so happy and it’s driving me nuts because I’m just so confused on why I can’t—why I can’t—process any of it.” Tears burn your eyes. “I’m just miserable. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

In the corner of your view, Luke’s face falls. “I’m your guide, you know that, right? I can help you.”

You sniff, embarrassingly pathetic. “I know.”

He comes even closer. “So why didn’t you ask?”

“Because I—I don’t know, you’re busy all the time with all the people in there, so I’m sure your job’s already stressful as is, so—”

“My job is to help you,” he says, a hand on your shoulder. “That’s what I signed up for. If you need something, I’m the one to ask.”

“I’m not sure you signed up for me crying like a baby,” you swallow, the ripples of the lake blurring together. “I mean, I’m like, older than half the kids here, and they’re all so much better than me. I’m not good at a—anything, and I’ve tried it all, and nobody’s claimed me yet, and I feel so weird and old and alone and . . .” It’s too much to think about so you dig the heels of your palms into your eyes, hoping the sting wards off the thoughts. “What if I’m nothing? Why am I here?”

You’re crying again, hiccuping into your hands. Shame sears into you. Luke’s arm curls around your shoulders and you realize how cold you are when he’s warm, so warm, and you want to cry even harder. You don’t even know him, but it’s the most tenderness you’ve received in what feels like years. “Hey, deep breaths,” he murmurs, rubbing your arm with his other hand. “It’s okay. Look at me.”

It takes a ridiculous amount of strength to heed him. His hand catches your cheek and you can’t bear to pull away. Something strange rustles in your stomach.

Luke’s taught instinct when faced with situations like these is to reassure that the Gods always have a plan. But he doesn’t feel like much of a liar tonight. Both his hands steady your face towards his, your skin damp and cold beneath his thumb. “It's not your fault. It always takes a little bit of time for people to get claimed, it’s never . . . well, you can never tell.”

“What if I don’t get claimed?” You say it so quiet you can pretend it was imaginary.

His eyes crinkle at the sides when he says, “Well, Hermes’ll always have a place for you.”

I’ll, Luke wants to say, I’ll. His father is not responsible for his cabin’s kindness.

“No one really prepares you for how overwhelming this is,” he continues, thumb rubbing the apple of your cheek. Your vision is clearer now, and Gods, he is handsome, isn’t he? Even when his eyes are forlorn. “It’s harder in a way when you’re older. More to leave behind. Less to look forward to. It’s easier when you have a friend. Or a great cabin head.” He tilts his head with a faint smile, “Lucky for you, I’m both.”

It almost makes you laugh, and that’s enough. “It’ll get easier,” he promises softly. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

Your cheeks burn. It’s hard to keep his gaze, so you blot at your eyes with your hands as Luke gently slides his off your face. “Thank you. Sorry for, um, all that. And the crying.”

He chuckles, “Don’t even worry about it.” You watch him rise in the throes of starlight. He offers you a hand. “Aren’t you cold?” He asks after pulling you up, and you sheepishly nod your head. He tosses you a sweater he’s been wearing, and it smells like firewood. Nostalgic, in a way. “I’m gonna poke around for some tea. Wait for me back at the cabin.”

Before he leaves, he squeezes your arm and that thing happens again in your stomach. “No need to be embarrassed, by the way. You can come to me anytime. I’m probably less busy than I look.” As he walked away, he added, “And don’t worry about the crying. You’re pretty either way.”

Either way. The tea doesn’t seem important anymore because your face is on fire.

Time reveals that Luke is right. He is a great cabin leader and a friend, and it’s hard to tell which he’s better at. You fall in with him right away. Soon enough, you’re drawn into your new life, so slowly you barely realize it’s happening. The days get shorter and you start wishing they were longer. The nights get easier. And when they’re not, Luke tucks you into his bunk and folds you in his arms until you drift off. You pick up a bow. A sword. Luke tells you to straighten your shoulders with a hand on the small of your back, and you swear it always lingers. You braid garlands of carnations for your cabin mates and they wear them with pride. It’s warm, your cheeks hurt from smiling, and things start to feel like home.

Until you’re claimed.

Now you’re a ghost in Hermes cabin, another empty bunk to be filled, and Luke stares at it until he can remember every last detail of what it looked like when it was yours. A beautiful, gentle daughter of Demeter, no longer in arms’ reach. He should’ve seen it coming.

He sees you with your siblings all the time. You’re so happy and he envies it. You belong there, he knows that, the way your face lights up at the dinner table and how you giggle when your half-sister presents you a flower. But sometimes your eyes wander, and something inside them dulls, until you look at him, too.

Luke’s place at camp is to be nothing but a funnel for lost campers to find their home. He’s a temporary stop in everybody’s journey. He’d made peace with it a long time ago. But here you are, messing it all up, because you still don’t leave him.

You beg him to give you another sword-fighting lesson. You sit next to him at bonfires. You pick him for partner camp activities. It doesn’t matter how many younger boys want to latch onto him for guidance—he sees you heading towards him, and he can’t imagine choosing anyone else.

But you’re always whisked away by your siblings, separated at meals and in sleep and in activities so it’s never, ever enough. Why did he delude himself into thinking you’d stay forever?

After weeks of distance from you, he’s elated when you have even a fraction of a conversation. “Hey, Luke!” You call out to him, and he finds you instantly. You’ve broken away from your siblings to get to him.

“Hey,” he smiles, and hopes he doesn’t look too pleased.

You lean a little towards his ear, and you smell like every wonderful thing in the world. “Can we hang out tonight? On the hill?” You’re a little bashful when you say it and it’s entirely endearing. Even now, you’re still so unsure. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” he says almost instantly, and it makes you look less nervous. “Yes. Absolutely. But don’t get caught breaking curfew now, you hooligan.”

Someone calls your name and you give a curt, playful nod. “Yes sir, camp counsellor sir!” He carries your laugh close to his heart until night falls.

You’re already there when he arrives, a vision in the moonlight before he even sees your face. “Hey, angel.”

When you turn around you look flustered. He won’t pretend like it doesn’t flatter him. “H—hi, uh, hello.”

There’s a moment where the world is still. The two of you, alone, for the first time in ages.

He sits down next to you, and it’s like the first time all over again. You get to talking, about your days, your anecdotes, your cabins. The strangeness of it all. “It’s so weird waking up in the morning and not having you yapping in my ear,” you remark, and he teasingly pushes your shoulder.

“Well, one of us has to be the talker, and it’s clearly not you,” he retorts.

You fiddle with blades of grass between your fingertips, weaving them together. “I’ll have you know I had a cabin-wide conversation about Capture The Flag yesterday, and I contributed greatly.”

“Oh, really?” He grins, knocking your elbow to steal your attention. “Look at you, coming out of your shell. I’m so proud.”

It’s hard to hold his gaze for more than a second. You’re afraid you’ll do something stupid if he keeps looking at you like that, but you almost want to. “Oh, shut up.”

He puts a hand on your shoulder. “No, I’m serious. I’m proud.” His eyes rake over your face. “You’re flourishing. You found your place.”

You can’t stop yourself from saying, “I kind of miss my old one.”

There’s a way he studies your expression that makes you feel utterly helpless. You wish you could dish it back to him, but you know you just look awestruck whenever you stare at him for so long. He’s quieter when he replies, “I miss it, too. A lot. Sometimes, I—” His face scrunches up like he just tasted something sour. “Nevermind.”

Frowning, you prod, “What? What is it?”

He sighs and turns to the horizon. This is the first time you’ve ever seen him struggle. “Sometimes, I wish you hadn’t been claimed. Sorry, that’s . . . that’s awful, I know.”

His surprise is evident when you say, “Sometimes I wish I wasn’t either.”

He turns back to you. “Really?”

“Really,” you nod, staring at the beads on his necklace. “You’re the only reason I’ve adjusted here at all.”

“Don’t sell yourself short.”

“It’s true. And I miss you.” A few months ago you would’ve kicked yourself for saying this. But Luke has a way of inspiring confidence in people.

“I miss you, too. So much.” He gently prys the grass you’ve been weaving out of your hands, now a small necklace. “But look at how talented you are. I’ll tell you, I’m lucky you’re still sticking around. For most people, Hermes is touch-and-go.”

Luke leans forward to tie the garland around your neck, and your pulse picks up. “This isn’t about Hermes, Luke,” you try to be firm but it comes out soft. “It’s about you.”

His hands stop fiddling and rest on your neck. When he speaks, you can feel his breath on you. And you have no idea that he’s been waiting to hear that his whole life. “What’s about me?”

It’s not fair, your inability to string sentences together only worsens right when a beautiful boy is this close to you. “Hermes isn’t—it’s not special because of your father, it’s special because of you.”

There is nothing else you can possibly think of saying with the way his fingers trace up your neck and hold your jaw. “Yeah, well,” he murmurs, “The only reason anything in my life is special is because of you.”

You don’t know if it’s a lie or not; you don’t care. His nose nudges yours. There’s a moment where you wonder if this is as close to Elysium you’ll ever get. Then he slips a hand to the back of your neck and pulls you to his mouth.

He kisses you in a near fury, then when he knows you’re not going anywhere, it’s the gentlest thing you know. It’s hard to believe this is even happening. Your hands weave through his curls but he holds you steady, and thank the Gods for that because you’re pretty sure you’re melting. You kiss again, and again, and again, until you genuinely think you’re going to pass out and you have to pull away.

“Aw, look at you,” he murmurs when you can’t meet his eyes, a playful lilt in his voice. “Still so nervous.”

“Would you shut up?” You press your face into the crook of his neck with a huge smile.

He kisses the top of your head. “Love to, angel.”

Luke Castellan is the son of a messenger. He’s supposed to believe he’s bringing the best of humanity to the Gods and glory above.

But screw the Gods. He’s keeping this one for himself.

#perrie’s fics #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #pjo #pjo series #pjo x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan fluff #heroes of olympus #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #charlie bushnell #this is far longer than i wanted it to be so sorry.#don’t usually write in 2nd person or present tense so i’m just trying not to look at it #the evil men with curly hair have won again

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