6 Works by casekai
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“I do not wish for you to die,” Patroclus tells him one day, sudden-spoken enough in the stillness of their coexistence that half-sleeping Achilles jolts at the sound of his voice. There is a moment of quiet as they lay, and Patroclus briefly wonders if he has spoken at all or merely imagined it. But he feels movement in his arms as Achilles pulls away from him, and watches Achilles’ silhouette sit up, blanketed in the hazy storm-darkness of the tent like a shade roiling in the Styx.
They have done a wonderful job of not speaking of this. How many long years has it been? Seven, nearing eight? To weep now would dishonor Achilles, would devalue all the glory he’s earned and yet to earn. All Achilles’ efforts, reduced to what? Fodder for Patroclus’s misery? Woe, that he would do such a thing to his love, who has shared with him all this glory — but he can do nothing else.
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Patroclus’s voice is like this, always: it draws Achilles’ attention as if guiding it by a taut line, makes Achilles feel as obedient as the many dogs Patroclus rears in his free time.
Deeply, sometimes, and the simile is almost not a simile. Bared teeth and carnal want give way to a gentler thing, a mind that could respond to a heel, eyes that watch a handler’s face with wanting: this is what you wanted? Show me it is what you wanted of me.
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Wyll Ravengard, companions in tow, makes it back to Baldur's Gate.
He is not welcomed. The city is unrecognizable to him, stolen by a man miserably unlike his father, with automated abominations prowling its streets. His own visage, that of the very sort of monster he'd brought home to the Gate seven years prior, taints every step he takes further into his former home. Perhaps worst of all, he speaks his name- to the guards, to the citizens- and no one breathes a word of his banishment in their rejection of him. Do they not believe him? Have they not been alerted of his status, of his exile?
Had he been exiled in any official capacity at all? Or was it merely the utterance of "Go," and his trembling obedience that had severed him from his home for so long?
Yet, it is not only his to call home. And Astarion, an opinionated Baldurian in his own right, feels quite strongly that Wyll deserves as much as any of them to take that identity back for himself, as the two of them navigate the tangled web of their former city.
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“Prison realm,” he murmurs, his voice a touch gentler than he normally lets it be. As gentle as it always has been.
And he finds the words before they can register to his conscious mind. Speaks them before he can— before Kenjaku can— before his body stops himself, his mind stops his body, before—“Open.”
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Getou's consciousness has been quietly whirring at the back of Kenjaku's mind, a familiar but overall unconcerning predicament. His thoughts, wills, and wants will fade into the background, as has been the case with every other body Kenjaku's overtaken and every other living person he's erased. Right?
A canon divergent "Getou lives!" fic.
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“I heard this song,” Suguru says, “about dying.”
His voice breaks the near-silence they’d been sitting in comfortably, more crisp and clear than the occasional spark of the flickering candle on the nightstand or the chirp of a bird outside, audible through the open window. It draws Satoru’s interest in a way the rustling of leaves as the autumn breeze blows past doesn't, commands his attention when nothing else does.
“The song never says it,” Suguru continues. ”That it’s about dying, I mean."
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talk me into following you somewhere far by casekai
Fandoms: 呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen (Manga), 呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen (Anime)
22 Sep 2022
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“Any last words?”
Suguru steals the words from Satoru’s mouth.It’s cruel to drag this out.
He knows. He knows what comes next.
“Domain expansion,” he breathes out, curling his middle finger around his index. “Unlimited void.”