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[ it is very difficult to be a scary terrorist when someone is fearlessly squishing your cheeks. fyodor grabs at gojo's wrists,firm but not pulling or trying to get him to stop--that's the issue, fyodor could make a point of getting away but his struggles never have a genuine fight behind them. no wonder he's in this predicament now.

he even chases after it, after all, if he wanted to leave tokyo, if he wanted to go then wouldn't it be easy to just do so? but maybe it's gojo's lack of empathy and compassion that is attractive to fyodor--a reminder of some of the reasons why his own empathy is buried deep within.

or, in some way, does fyodor want to dig deep enough to drag something other than kindness out of gojo satoru? it could be a catastrophe that burnt down an entire continent. the face that launched a thousand ships--what a terrible curse that had been for poor helen.

but this determined avoidance of his crimes...well, it's interesting. ]

Ultimately, I believe we both want the same thing.

Ah—hah don't give me that. [ he keeps his hands on fyodor, though, propping his wrist on the other's shoulder, fingers brushing his neck. ] Unless you mean we both want to hop back into bed with each other, then yeah, sure, totally we do~

[ gojo doesn't want a world made equal.

he wants to be the strongest. he wants that forever.

fyodor's got his wiles, though. sure, they do agree where it matters; sleeping together makes it all more agreeable. very difficult to disagree with someone when they melt against you like this, when they're supposed to be able to kill with a touch, and instead they just lean into you; reliant and warm. ]

You should just come and join my team instead, then I'll take care of Fyodor all the time~ ah, until you try to cause your little problems.

Ah, give you what exactly? [ but he knows what gojo means, and then well, he's not wrong about the bed thing but neither is fyodor ] I'm not wrong. [ arrogant russian rat is arrogant. ] If there was something in this world you wanted badly enough no one could keep you from it. [ because gojo is the strongest and fyodor is happy to feed that ego along. it doesn't make the other pliable through flattery, and fyodor is aware of that.

joining the other side sounds repulsive, he loathes ability users. ]

I can't.

[ but there is something in that tone, something else. ]

Mhm, that's true! [ there's a strange tone overall, to the turn this conversation has taken. a reminder of the space between the two of them. never to share ideals, never to work on the same side— always forced into the margins around the great power struggle that is their narrative, that they have been placed within. gojo won't leave it.

it's easier, then, to tug him in closer, turning the other around in his arms, chin tucking into the crook of fyodor's shoulder, arms wound around his waist now, holding him to gojo's chest. spine to sternum. he breathes against that skinny frame. ]

C'mere. [ a pause, while he considers. ] It's all good, you know that~ extra-curricular, work's work. All that stuff. [ is it fyodor that he's reassuring, or himself? his tone is light— carefree as ever. but he's holding fyodor firmly, thumb running against his arm, dark hair tickling his face. ]

[ in this position it is easy to feel how fyodor rests his weight against that sternum; small enough to be encased entirely should gojo decide to, and still this doesn't bring him the comfort it normally does. strange that he should find the gap between their organizations and goals so sharp right now; they had never promised anything and both know it. work's work. but are they not, in great part, work itself? they both made choices and now, now there will be consequences for getting in-between sheets with the enemy.

frail fingers settle on the arms around his waist. ]

Do you even understand what is happening right now in your world? Your school? Among your kind? Are you not concerned?

[ he rolls his head to the side, leaning his against fyodor's and sighing, breath warm against the other's cheek. ] Eh, it's a little chaotic, but— I'm the strongest, don't forget. You know, if I wanted to, I could butcher this whole world! But, everyone would have me for that— aha. So, I make my salary— bossman makes a dollar, I make a dime. Just kidding. [ fyodor's the enemy. he's trying to kill gifted users— sorcerers are natural, but arguably, the still threaten the balance of power. how very russian, gojo thinks, to want absolute evening of the playing field.

a kiss to the other's temple, and he shifts him, back and forth, back and forth, like he can't quite seem to stay still. ]

Don't fret, nee? If you lose, I'll come and pick you up and then you can be angry at me, and then we can— ah, I dunno. Move to France.

[ the shit this man talks. just out here... saying anything! ]

[ cat-like menace. ] Are your words always intended to be like this? At times they seem like defusing a situation, and at others, it feels as if subterfuge is the ultimate intention. And then, utter lack of sense—but that's only to those who think you're more brawn than brains.

[ and fyodor wouldn't make that mistake, even if part of him is well distracted by the proximity that has taken hold of them both now. limitless is not activated, he's sure. not even in the slightest— ]

How cruel of you, Satoru-san, to offer something you have no intention of giving.

Eh, I'm nice to you, stop caring so much about people who don't matter. You're not some kind of environmentalist, you ruin stuff all the time. Just focus on me. I'm more important~

[ now and then it rears its head— that legendary arrogance. fyodor, you have to be prepared to cope with this creature— he truly believes he's the greatest thing to grace this planet. didn't he say it like that once: throughout heaven and earth, he alone is the honored one. a god. maybe. ]

Huh? I'd come get you if you were in trouble, don't you think I would? I look after you, don't I? [ that simpering note in his voice; it's always a little fake, but his arms are tight around fyodor's body, holding him. ]

I would.

Forgive me, I cannot. [ just focusing on gojo satoru would be foolish, but more than that it would be selfish. fyodor is, inherently, a selfless creature despite all his crimes; this razing of the world is not about gaining something, it's about god and order and setting things in the right place. to love something for himself, with the intention and implications that love would entail is the biggest of his sins. ]...because you are not.

[ the words are offered with an apology, with a softness in his voice. the world might believe gojo satoru to be a god, the honored one throughout heaven and earth and possibly further still but ]

Would you? I wouldn't come for you. If the roles were reversed, you should know right now that I would not.

[ ...lie. the day gojo satoru finds himself trapped in that box, fyodor will--

(it starts like this: a trap baiting another trap and he will leave down his guard long enough for dazai osamu to find him, finally finally, and then there is a prison that lies at the end of the european continent and deep within it the cubes suspended in a vacuum where no ability user can enter. and meanwhile, tokyo spirals into chaos, sukuna goes far, farther than anyone expected and the world burns burns burns while they're both in their respective prisons.

it's the end of everything because what is left after both break out?) ]

Ah, Fyo. I am. [ he says it so lightly.

but there's something behind it too— the weight of generations. he's a king in his own world; the most dangerous thing on earth. adored from birth— waited for, prayed over. there are many, many gods in japan— they live in their stone houses, and the small offerings of sake make them very briefly gain in their power. but. gojo has never had to take offerings. he's only ever had power. adults used to flinch from him— what if those six eyes were turned on them in anger? they'd be scorched to oblivion. they'd be ruined.

when you love a god, you must be made of strong mettle.

gojo will never love anyone as much as he loves his power.

isn't that the very crux of what fyodor hates about the world? the disparity— the cruelty of whims, when given utter, total range of brutality. gojo knows that there is a world where he turned to that crowd and snarled, laughed, and annihilated them. maybe one day, he will. who knows. but hey— gojo's never read marx. and he never will.

he holds fyodor all the same, as if that will be enough to keep them together.]

Hmm, maybe I'll change your mind. I like you so much, yanno? More than I should. You're mine~ it's okay to say that, isn't it. It's a secret for you, from me. [ the romantic. he's always going to be that too. ] I don't need the same, as long as you know I'll protect you, yes?

Edited 2023-09-10 20:51 (UTC)

[ he loves his god, and bleeds for him; carries each sin with gravitas, and his own with grace. in a world where gojo satoru slaughtered everyone that night in retaliation, fyodor would have heard the news from the other side of the world. young as he was he would've sat up from the pile of blankets keeping the russian chill at bay and sought out everything that could be found about the one who had inherited limitless and six-eyes. he would have been besotted from that moment onward.

in this world, however, he resists every declaration though he plays the game. after all, good game partners are so hard to find, and fyodor's own loneliness is his constant companion along with his sickly constitution.

gojo's power has use, and that is why it is forgivable within fyodor's strict doctrine. what an odd concept being put here between them, protection without requiring something in return. he doesn't want it. he shouldn't want it. to want such things is weakness.

but what harm is there in leaning into this? pulling away is more work than staying in this embrace, his chin now resting on gojo's shoulder--as close to an admission as fyodor can get to right now. ] Satoru-san, you are sentimental and good with your words. I'll give you that.

[ and he belongs to god but never has belonged to a godly being like gojo. ] You'll protect me from your own allies? They're the biggest threat to us, you know.

[ he is a manipulative shit, it can't be helped. ]

[ fyodor rests his head on gojo's shoulder, and for a second, he forgets about the whole disparity between them— the differing ideals, the role of sides. there's a side, now, a new one— it's crept in quietly, curled up close, and it's formed of nothing but the scent of hotel sheets, and dark hair across the pillow, and the affectionate turn that fyodor's accent gives his name. a compendium of small things; things of no consequence— but sometimes, fyodor will call him over and fix his shirt collar, or frown and sweep lint from his shoulder, and will mention something in such a tone of russian scorn that it'll tip gojo into a prolonged fit of laughter.

ah, funny that. the inconvenience of those small things— they tend to build up. their layers give them complexity; a secret history of gestures they've been overlooking. it's fine! he thinks. he holds fyodor tighter, though, rubs his cheek against the other's hair in that catlike way of his. ]

Hey~ don't call me sentimental. You're sentimental. [ he's not actually so sure fyodor is sentimental... ] Mm? My allies. I don't have any allies, I don't like anyone except for Fyodor.

[ a squeeze to frail ribs. he does that annoying thing— leans back, lifts fyodor's feet off the ground for a second or two, before putting him down. was that a vertebrae cracking into place? gojo huffs a laugh against the other's ear. ] Creaky grandpa.

[ a new side that sometimes very insidiously whispers that it's safe, and this is what he knows: it'll hurt when this ends, and the longer it goes on the harder it'll be. but this, them that they have shaped from bedsheets and stolen moments; dates that are labelled anything but what they are; fyodor can trace perfectly from memory the sharp curve of gojo's smile, the exact shade of his silver hair when the sun peers through the hotel window, the soft fabrics of expensive shirts that are carelessly tossed.

gojo's certainty is a force of nature, that inability to doubt himself and chasing after what he wants, the very embodiment of a cat. fyodor lies limp in his arms while he's swept off his feet, so romantic so sweet so--

...oh that was his spine cracking. gojo's warm breath against his ear and fyodor allows himself to go limp like a fish in token protest. a click of admonishment, ] You better not like anyone else but me. Imagine doing this to everyone you meet, that would be so rude, Satoru-san.

Hmm, only you get me as your personal chiropractor~ [ he runs a hand down fyodor's spine in response to that, keeping the other close. sure, they're confined to hotel rooms— sometimes, gojo's apartment. there's a liminality to this affair, he supposes; they don't meet in their day to day lives; fyodor slips beneath the radar of the school.

he'd been warned about him, however— don't touch. do not touch him— not on pain of death. and, of course, like all things that gojo satoru is told not to do, he wanted to do the exact opposite, immediately. don't touch? oh great, the first thing he'd wanted to do upon laying eyes on fyodor was to touch him. just to see what would happen!

that's taken on a different tone now, of course. he can't imagine not touching fyodor when he sees him.

he gives the other a bit of a shake, an arm returning to his waist. ]

It's kind of cute that you just demanded that we make things exclusive. Isn't your ability like— ah, another Fyodor? Is he as cute as you. [ no cheating on him with his ability that's just weird, gojo. ]

[ too much attention would be deadly for fyodor at this stage in his plans; he lacks the protection of being locked in the world's most secure prison, away from the reach of all his enemies and inaccessible to anyone who wanted to extract his plans from his mind. however such a place would be incredibly inconvenient to this affair continuing, france is a long way away, after all. tokyo, on the other hand, is so convenient.

the first time gojo satoru laid hands on him, crime and punishment had not come to life; fyodor had willed it to wait, suspecting, or perhaps knowing, that against limitless it would be rebuffed. no other weapon he had on hand would work and so he'd simply let that meeting happen, it's not like fyodor hadn't been curious about gojo, too. the strongest. he thinks of double black, briefly, that partnership that drives both nakahara chuuya and dazai osamu to do things he does not always expect. what would someone like that at his side be like?

except, gojo satoru had proven notoriously impossible to manipulate. it is that strength, the confidence in it and himself and his own wants that render him immune. how irritating that he's found a person, aside from dazai, that he can't just take out and use as he likes.

the shift of topic causes him to bristle, pulling away from those arms. fyodor lifts his chin, all haughty and bratty and determined not to give gojo the answers he seeks. ]

Nevermind, go around being a nuisance and crack spines as you like.

[ no reply on the nature of his ability because that is a far more sensitive subject than whether they are exclusive or not. ]

Edited (little typo askdjakl) 2023-09-14 11:19 (UTC)

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