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@sixeis
“ sorry ... i won't be able to save everybody. #sixeis ━━ a private gojō satoru [ 五 条 悟 ] writing blog, from jujutsu kaisen. takes influence from the manga, anime & personal headcanons. portrayed by courtney. she / her. not spoiler free, established in 2021 / remade in 2023.
carrd. prompts. pinterest. playlist.
mobile rules under the cut.
domain expand this pussy - manami , 2024
morning after. for our muses to wake up together the next morning, after having a one night stand. sighs...
the penthouse suite is nothing to write home about, albeit spacious and with all the accoutrements a penthouse should have. the tiling was dated and the skirting had weather - born cracks the normal eye would miss. the tinted windows struggled against the morning sun, which bounced off the surrounding edifices. he had woken in the king - sized bed long before aki began to stir amidst silk, long enough to notice all the blemishes and faults that housed them; long enough to reminisce of the night before.
gojō was no stranger to a one night stand, but even he wasn't usually so careless as to mix business with pleasure. aki was a careless mistake, he had quietly concluded . . . because, what else was this if not a subtle reminder of a time passed. in fact, gojō had been so quick to pull his hair from his bun once they had stumbled into the suite, heavy breaths and lip - locked, lest he say the name out loud. the rest was felt in the dull ache of muscles and marks littered across their skin. a pang of remorse pervaded his heart, the cold touch of loneliness settled over his throat.
❛ mooorning, ❜ he drawls smugly, propped up by his pillow and idly flipping through one of the many promotional catalogues stacked on the nightstand. it looks like they missed out on last night's cabaret and free drinks hour down in the function hall. shame. ❛ huh, gaudy. oh, i ordered room service. coffee? eggs? unless you prefer the taste of the drool on your pillow, ❜ he points out with a feeble laugh. ❛ sleep well? ❜
i miss him ♡
the minute her fingertips leave the doorknob she's off, scurrying down the hall with wide, teary eyes. fingers grip the skirt of her uniform as she falls deep into her own thoughts, easily manoeuvring the contours of the building. where was she going? somewhere she can hide away, maybe. perhaps her own room? she could pack some things and be gone before gojō finishes his meal. her first thought is to always run because it's easier than facing him. however, utahime doesn't get very far, just around a corner before her name is called, but she barely registers it as the conversation in her head is much louder. where will i go when i leave here? why do i even care so much when i know he does it purely to survive? so many questions rattle her brain, but she's a mere moment from reaching the corridor that connects to her bedroom.
but the man of the hour puts himself between her and her escape. she collides with him, a bit harshly at that, and stumbles slightly, catching her balance easily and turning to peer up at him, stunned. what? why was he here!? more questions plague her, but she becomes immediately aware that she's crying the moment she tunes back into reality. hands are thrown up to shield her face and utahime hunches over a little, allowing her hair to fall in front of her. ❝ because maybe i thought you'd have the decency to leave me alone! when someone is running away from you, it means they don't want to be around you! ❞
her words are spat with pure venom, but a few moments later she heaves a sigh. a soft sniffle follows and her fingertips wipe the tears away from her face, yet she doesn't dare lift her head. ❝ why are you even chasing me? you've left that woman in your room probably really confused. go finish feeding before she leaves. ❞ this whole situation sits on her chest so heavily, and she knows why. how many women fell in love with their employers? especially women in her situation. how many humans fell in love with vampires? all of them, in every single story told.
utahime has fallen in love with him. it's hard to admit to herself, but she knows it's true. there is no doubt that is why she's always so quick to try and flee. deep down she knows she can't stay here like this, with him. she can't keep overhearing the soft coos and moans from his bedroom, she can't keep cleaning up the bloody aftermath either. it's a job she knows is harder on her than it is on the others.
but, as of right now, she's still only a member of staff. and she has to remember her place, like he once said. lifting her head, the tears haven't ceased at all, and now her lower lip is trembling between her teeth. ❝ i'm sorry for barging in. i didn't know you had company. forgive me, ❞ bowing before him, the brunette chokes back an ugly noise. ❝ there is nothing further to discuss, so i'll take my leave. ❞
his previous suspicions are proven correct now that they're face to face. well, his face to her obscuring hands. she was crying, angrily, hurtfully. it shifts something inside of him, something incomprehensible. something ugly. what good would tears do? in his experience, they were a manipulative tool. only utahime was so emotionally... loud, he couldn't fathom it came from a place of disingenuity at all. gojō stifles the urge to grab her hands, to reveal her face. her words all but bounce off what metaphorical armour he surrounds himself with. that is to say, he doesn't believe them. he doesn't believe her. the outbursts are patterning, there's a connection and has been from the start. he need only connect the dots.
as she settles into a sniffle, face wet and veiled by her hair, his resolve softens. somewhat. there was no denying he had taken to her, she occupied his thoughts when she was in the room and out. although, it had been described as more of an annoyance than anything else. that was only at face-value; to devastate her like this was inconceivable. the woman that had occupied his space seconds ago was well on her way out, by the grace of his servants. he spared her no thought, there had been nothing incriminating about the scene yet.
❛ when i give you permission, ❜ he finishes her statement. he wouldn't allow her to escape so easily, not without allowing him his turn to speak. his gaze lingers on the quiver of her chin, the lip tucked between her teeth. up, and over the ruddiness of her cheeks and watery eyes. as she bows, he reaches his fingers out to curl underneath her chin, tilting her head up. he bows in turn, till they're at eye level. she was always trying to run, granted, she had valid reason to. sometimes, he wondered, if she genuinely hated him. other times, like now, he wondered quite the opposite.
... is this jealousy? his smile is a subtle thing, accentuated by a playful tilt of his head. ❛ i don't mix feeding and pleasure, utahime, you should know me better than that by now, ❜ it's little more than an act of mercy to whatever little piglet he gets his hands on, not necessarily something he himself enjoyed. ❛ shame on me to neglect the wellbeing of my favourite maid over an easily replaced meal, though i do like this colour on you, ❜ attempt as he may to lighten the mood, he makes certain to convey seriousness through action, as he wipes his thumb over her tear-stained cheek. realising himself, gojō lets his hand fall to his side and straightens up with a weary sigh. he could source elsewhere, if it bothered her so much. ❛ suppose i could try men. they never taste as good though, maybe it's all the testosterone. ❜
五｜夢
いっぱい、いっぱい
だiいiすiき
って伝えたいね
☆Art by: momoya348 on twitter !☆
im such a man who leans in doorways. relaxes against the counter. drapes across a couch. sprawls over an armchair. my spine isnt straight and by god neither am i.
@sixeis: grab, sender grabs receiver's wrist to stop them from leaving. ( for utahime )
standing there like a deer in headlights, utahime feels the breath be invisibly pulled from her lungs at the sight she had accidentally walked in on. usually, she knew when gojo had 'dinner' around, the staff all alerted each other and they avoided his bedroom. but on this particular evening, no one had really known. either that or they had deliberately not told her, and if that was the case, she'd kick up hell for it, given what she's having to currently witness.
looming over some pretty woman is her master, who easily situates himself between her legs. one hand is hiking up her bare leg while his lips ghost over the tender flesh of her neck. it looks different than it is, she knows that. he's simply toying with his food, but... she can't help the way her heart palpitates in her chest, and the way her head spins. when she's spotted by the duo after intruding, the brunette snaps back to her senses and finally manages to inhale a gasp of air, dropping the duster she carried in hand. ❝ sorry... excuse me- ❞
spinning on her heel, she's quick, as quick as she can be, but she's not even reached the threshold of the door before a hand clamps around her wrist like a vice, holding her steady in place. for some reason her feelings are hurt, for some reason she's jealous and very, very upset. now stuck, she bites down on her bottom lip, squeezing her eyes shut to try and prevent the tears that had unwillingly begun to well up from falling. utahime is unsure if gojo knows how she feels, she doesn't know the extent of his abilities. perhaps he could sense her emotions? or, more likely, maybe he could smell the saltiness of her tears? either way, she didn't plan on sticking around long.
now is when the bitterness and anger arise, the internal questions. why did he pester her all the time for attention? but do things like this? ideally, she knows it's the best way to lure in prey. seducing them, especially with a pretty face like his, was the easiest. she's being emotional and stupid and she will most definitely hound herself for it later, but right now she's unable to tame herself. ❝ let go, ❞ the demand is spoken quietly, so that the pretty stranger now sitting upright on the bed can't hear her. ❝ finish whatever you were doing. i'll get someone else to clean up later. ❞ with that, she takes a deep breath and yanks at her wrist really hard, successfully managing to free herself. the minute she does, she runs out of the room, closing the door uncharacteristically gently. she was being mindful of the poor victim on the bed, no idea what was in store for her.
the act is little more than a ritual to quicken the heart and elevate the blood. it makes drinking from the source easier, tastier, and then some. procuring a meal was never of any issue when one looked like he did, something he had become aware of too early on in his youth. it was also safer inviting a meal home first rather than stalking and feasting in the city streets. that would leave him exposed, vulnerable to the likes of those who thought they could contest him; those with savior complexes, who rushed in foolhardy and with good intentions, only to meet with their demise.
that was when things got messy.
or, alternatively, when the one person he hoped would never have to witness the act, walked in. as soon as the door opened, he knew it was her from her scent alone; that which rushed the senses, overwhelmed any desire to feast on the woman beneath him. teeth retract. he couldn't fathom the panicked sensation that squeezed in his chest — would she try to run again? would she condemn him? hate him? gojō moves quicker than the human eye can perceive, his fingers wrapped around her wrist, preventing her from escaping. he can see the misunderstanding, the way she turns from him. in fear, or disgust? the sparkle of something on her lashes detracts from both assumptions, and gives him pause. it's enough for her to yank out of his grip and run out, the door falling shut in his face.
" what's going on? who was that? "
words that fall on deaf ears as he follows after utahime. she knows what he is, what he has to do to survive. so, why run? ❛ utahime, ❜ he calls after her, mindful not to grab her again until he understands completely. it feels like a quick game of cat and mouse, which he would usually delight in playing. only this time, he's hungry and confused, worried. once he's had enough of following her trail, he manifests in front of her like a brick wall. gojō sighs, ❛ you know you can't outrun me, so why try? ❜
@soulsballad
season one episode one
her attitude towards him was appalling, from her first day being hired here, she immediately disliked the man. his childish nature irritated her, as did his constant teasing and flirtation mannerisms. it only grew worse after she walked into his room one night and caught him hovering over some poor soul, sharpened canines plunged deeply into a dying pulse. when she discovered he was a vampire, it got so much worse. because now she was scared of him, while also having some other mixed feelings about the man she didn't wish to acknowledge.
a shiver runs down her spine, her hand fleeing up to cover her neck, dark brown hues fixating upon the large, lanky figure as he eyes her, or well, her neck. he had promised not to bite her, he even expressed the fact he had no interest in feeding from her. which also, for some reason, annoyed her. was her blood not good enough for him?
but he does strike fear, the small shift in his mood makes her bite her lips together. he puts her back in her place, even if the urge to quit then and there almost wins. no, she needs this job. she'd go homeless and starve if she left.
dark lashes flutter a few times, gaze submissively averting to the floor, by his feet. no words are spoken as she bows an apology to the man, awkwardly, and very hesitantly shuffling her way towards the door he almost stands taller than. when she's a few inches or so away from him, she gives a soft clearing of her throat, gaze still cast downwards. " can you let me by then, master...? i've got to get to it before the blood begins to dry... "
like flicking a switch, she's subdued and acquiescent. as her gaze is downcast, he feels discontent despite receiving exactly what he asked for. perhaps he had been too aggressive. those who knew often walked on egg shells around him, however he had no interest in wiping out his employees. it was a hassle trying to hire new help. majority of them knew his true nature by now and were timid and subservient in his presence. utahime, on the other hand, had always been quick - witted and seemingly determined not to be treated any less. she wasn't so easily governed, not until just recently.
gojō neglects to adhere to her request, still barricading the doorway. despite the tilt of his head, he can't quite meet her eyes through the bangs falling haphazardly over her forehead. ❛ look at me when you're talking to me, ❜ it's not so much a command than it is a request, as he flicks at the bow tying her hair in a half up - do. he doesn't think to touch her, otherwise. no doubt it would only serve to spook her further.
❛ i promised you i wouldn't feed on you. i'm a man of my word, you know, ❜ what minimal reassurance he could offer. he doubts it makes much difference considering their history now. she had walked in on an unsavoury sight and it wasn't quite what he had in mind when broaching the topic. ❛ — you don't believe me? ❜
" Oh!— " What a sight! " Am I interrupting something? " It was nothing short of breathtaking: an ordinary citizen— though it seemed corpse was far more appropriate at that point, ashen-faced and slack-jawed, twitching a soundless death rattle— whose neck united two identical rows of teeth, ivory talons stained red with their essence. Any other ordinary citizen would scurry for the hills; he was no ordinary man. Getō Suguru, in fact, was a peculiar man with ... peculiar tastes, and those tastes were undeniably piqued by pure happenstance.
To find it among cobblestone walls in the midst of a shoddy alleyway was just a plus that worked well in his favor. The inevitable cleanup, not so much. Ah, something to worry about later.
He waved a hand as if greeting an old friend, smiled a tight-lipped smile. " Don't mind me. Do go on. " / @sixeis
the amicability throws him, the fresh corpse dropped onto the cobblestone with a sound no sane person should ever have to hear. he is undoubtedly a sight to see, frazzled and wild - eyed, blood dribbling from the corners of his lips, running down his chin and staining his white blouse. why wear white? he hadn't planned on feeding so early in the night, but sometimes temptation was too great.
❛ —with voyeurs, i prefer some notice, ❜ he's quite level - headed despite this unideal happenstance and noticeably worn mien. another human to worry about, albeit the lack of screaming and running was . . . novel. interesting.
❛ you sound like a man who's seen this sort of thing before, or, perhaps, one who doesn't place stocks on human life? how scary, ❜ he titters, swiping a thumb underneath his blood - stained lip.
kiss?
he whips his glasses off with a smug grin- only because he's usually the one to ask. ❛ oh? tsk, tsk, tsk. so impatient~ suguru. i'm a busy man, you know. ❜
FERAL GOJO IN SHIBUYA
tiredness was beginning to make its home in her bones, it was almost impossible to sleep here. if it wasn't for the old and rather terrifying manor riddled with ghosts, ( no amount of convincing could get her to believe this place wasn't haunted, ) the coldness that sweeps through the place like a disease, or the bloodthirsty, unholy monster that whines for her attention the moment its abnormally bright blue eyes flutter open, then she might have been able to get a decent amount of sleep.
utahime wastes some time in the kitchen, using her lunch break to eat some leftovers the chef had from earlier that morning. just as she finishes and puts her plate away, it comes. that voice. the voice of an angel, one so playful and alluring she'd love nothing more than to walk directly into the arms of it and listen to it speak gentle nothings into her ear. but that was the point of it. he wanted his prey to come to him, and utahime would not give this vampire what he wants.
before she knows it a sneer is curling on her face at his words, but she recalls a scolding she received from her superiors and quickly fixes her face, forcing a smile onto her lips as she finally turns to face the man, watching him through half-lidded hues. " morning master, did you sleep well? " it almost physically repulses her to greet him like this, and it shows on her face as the smile dulls down almost immediately into a blank expression. now her formalities drop entirely, cringing at the mention of a mess. one he obviously created just to garner her attention. " what kind of stain is it? if it's blood then absolutely not, i told you before, you can deal with that yourself. suck it out the carpet for all i care- "
❛ 'master?' well, someone's in a good mood this evening, ❜ he might as well eat his words as soon as he speaks them. no sooner is she dropping the poorly crafted façade, than is he scowling at what comes after. in his defence, the mess wasn't quite as grand as the jackson pollock painting in his bedroom. however, the substance wasn't artificial resins or linseed oil. so, she was bang on the money with that one. gojō's disheartened pout is fleeting, along with the flimsy pretence that he was anything than what he truly was . . . and not something that could be hidden for long.
absolutely not? well, that won't do at all.
his eyes flicker sharply to utahime, and he wonders if he should drop the bestowed nickname in favour of something less sweet; let fear take the wheel for a minute or two. he sighs, disappointed. his figure, large enough to obscure the doorway, remains still. ❛ i prefer it direct from the source, ❜ he pointedly informs her, eyes trailing down to the pulse point of her neck. he can hear it from where he's standing— the rhythmic beat of her pulse, when it quickens and slows. whenever her skin reddens from exertion, anger or embarrassment, it's akin to being served a hearty meal on a silver platter, just out of reach.
he's not a wild animal, he has some semblance of self - control. however, when and how he chooses to demonstrate said self - control is where things grow blurry. ❛ disobedient little maids don't win themselves any favours around here. what am i paying you for, if not to clean up my messes, huh? ❜
❛ what are you doing here ? ❜ manami makes no effort to hide her disdain in seeing @sixeis again . while they hadn't necessarily ended on bad terms they weren't exactly on good terms either . they simply coexisted . their breakup had been widely publicized , the media painting them in the most toxic manner , though hardly far from the truth . it wasn't often that japan's biggest pop star and its beloved heartthrob got together and created an entire phenomenon within both industries . their breakup had a cataclysmic effect and while it was a nuisance to deal with she couldn't blame the general public for being so curious . ❛ paris fashion week ? and the same event ? ❜ an exasperated sigh escapes as she begrudgingly takes a seat next to him on the runway . just her luck that every other spot was taken except for the one right next to him . how convenient . ❛ it seems i can't escape you , ❜ manami says quietly , her voice a tease despite the serious undertone in it .
❛ hmm. would a victoria's secret supermodel walk a runway? ❜ he deigns her first question with a flippant and satirical response, unsurprised by her appearance but not necessarily pleased either. of course, of all the events paris fashion week had to offer, they would attend the same. if it hadn't truly been coincidental, he would have chalked their seating arrangement up to a publicity stunt. however, his pr team weren't gamblers in that respect, not with the value their positions held.
given his and manami's history, there was underlying tension and not the kind gojō particularly fancied. despite the fact, his demeanour remains intact and unfazed by her company. he smiles, drapes his arm along the spine of her seat and rests an ankle atop his opposing knee; comfortable, undeterred. ❛ escape me? now, now, manami, why would you want to do that? i've been nothing but civil. ❜
the door to his bedroom falls shut with a muted click, the scene beyond something no man or maid should see at such early hours of the morning. or rather, night ( to most other creatures ). the drapery in his living room is pulled aside, revealing the depths of the night, seeping through the red maple that hangs over the west wing of his manor, obscuring the window. the space is quiet, bar the light pitter patter of footsteps moving from room to room. his ears could detect a pinprick, after all.
gojō trails the gentle echo until he finds @barrenstars doing some meaningless task or rather in the kitchen. she could be dawdling for all he cares. he gnaws at the thought of tip - toeing behind her and giving her a fright; a cruel prank and not entirely beneath him, but, the ever - so - merciful angel on his shoulder manages to dissuade him at the last second. for the sake of his safety, he supposes.
❛ hime! someone - not me - has made a mess of my rug in the living room, ❜ he leans, shoulder and head against the door jam with a faux - pained sigh. ❛ and no one gets stains out better than you... ❜
