#the ground

Gachiakuta: When he becomes a bitch

Gachiakuta Main Masterlist | Main Masterlist @shayinstarlight୨୧ | ©shayinstarlight

Arkha Corvus

He didn’t mean to say it. But he did.

“You’re in the way,” he snapped. “You think with your heart...not with your brain....”

The silence afterward is worse than any argument.

You stop speaking to him entirely. No looks. No replies. You move around him like he doesn’t exist.

''I didnt mean to hurt your feelings,i spoke out of turn..and im sorry......i wish we can move on now''

Enjin

He laughs when he says it. That’s the worst part.

“You’re too sensitive. It was a joke.”

You just stare at him once—then walk away.

The next morning: silence. The next mission: silence. The next joke: unanswered.

Enjin panics.

“Okay, okay— I messed up,” he says, following you. “C’mon, yell at me or something.”

You don’t.

“…Please talk to me,” he whispers later, voice cracking. “I hate this.”

Gris Rubion

His words are quiet. Surgical.

“You’re a liability when you get emotional.”

You nod once.

And then you shut down completely.

No warmth. No conversations. No shared space unless necessary.

Gris notices immediately.

He tries to fix it logically. Apologies. Space. Time.

Nothing works.

Finally, he kneels in front of you.

“I was wrong,” he says plainly. “…I need you to answer me.”

Rudo Serubec (older)

He says it out of self-loathing.

“You deserve better than someone like me.”

You go silent after that.

Rudo thinks he did the right thing—until you stop talking to him altogether.

No reassurance. No arguments. No comfort.

He spirals.

One night, he grabs your sleeve gently.

“Please,” he says, eyes frantic. “Tell me you arent the next Regto”

Zanka Nijiku (older)

He crosses a line while teasing.

“You’re useless when you freeze up like that.”

The moment it leaves his mouth, he regrets it.

But you just… stop.

You don’t laugh. Don’t snap back. Don’t even glare.

Silence.

Zanka grows restless. Loud jokes turn hollow.

Finally, he blurts, “Hey— hey— I was joking—”

You walk past him.

“…Okay,” he says quietly. “I’m sorry.I i didnt mean it!RIYO IS GOING TO TO BEAT MY ASS-”

Goka Nijiku

He’s cold when he says it.

“Your feelings are irrelevant right now.”

You accept it outwardly.

And then you withdraw completely.

Goka notices the absence immediately: no questions, no commentary, no presence.

Efficiency drops. Focus shatters.

He approaches you stiffly.

“…Speak,” he says. Nothing.

“…I spoke incorrectly,” he admits, voice strained. “…I require your response.”

Tamsy Caines

His cruelty is subtle.

“You’re easier to deal with when you’re quiet.”

You go deadly silent after that.

Tamsy doesn’t notice at first.

Then he does.

And it unsettles him.

He tries jokes. Provocations. Nothing.

Eventually, he leans close, voice low.

When he gets like this,he becoems blunt and honest.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he murmurs. “…Say something. I don’t like this.”

Bro Santa

He blurts it out thoughtlessly.

“Stop whining.”

Your smile disappears.

So does your voice.

Bro Santa tries to laugh it off—until hours pass.

“Hey,” he says softly. “You mad?”

No answer.

Later, he crouches in front of you.

“I messed up,” he says quietly. “Please talk to me again.”

Delmon Gates

His words are measured—and devastating.

“Your reaction was unnecessary.”

You acknowledge it with a nod.

And then never speak to him again unless required.

Delmon tries to rationalize it.

Fails.

Finally, he approaches you in private.

“I regret my phrasing,” he says carefully. “…Your silence is… worse.”

Follo Tunito

He says it defensively.

“You’re being dramatic-what do you know?.”

The second the words land, your face closes off.

Silence.

Follo panics immediately.

“I— I didn’t mean— I just—”

You walk away.

He spends the rest of the day hovering nearby.

“…Please talk to me,” he whispers. “I’ll take it back. All of it.”

August Stiltza

His cruelty is unintentional.

“OH MA GWAD,DONT TOUCH ANYTHING YOU STUPID BITCH.....ALWAYS TOUHCING MY SHIT”

You accept it calmly.

And then withdraw entirely.

August feels the shift like a void.

You're not in hsi room,looking at his art..the bed is empty.

Days later, he speaks softly.

“I spoke without thinking....my bad,” he says.

Zodyl Typhon

His words are possessive and sharp.

“You exist for my world,not your own.”

You don’t argue.

You simply stop responding.

Zodyl hates it.

The silence eats at him.

He grabs your wrist,not hard.

“Speak,” he growls.

You don’t.

“…I went too far,” he admits, teeth clenched. “…and i acknowledge my mistake....you are my world....”

Jabber Wonger

He laughs when he says it.

“You’re no fun when you’re like this.”

You don’t react.

You just… disappear emotionally.

Jabber grows uneasy. Then frantic.

“Hey-hey -I was kidding”

Nothing.

He crouches in front of you, grin gone.

“…Okay. I messed up. Please talk to me again.”

''...''

''MAMA IM SORRRYY''

''...''

''Babylove?''

Bundus Begalkeit

His words are blunt.

“Your presence is disruptive.”

You nod.

And then never speak to him again unless ordered.

Bundus endures it for days.

Then weeks.

Finally, he approaches you stiffly.

𝐖𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐲 ┅ 𝖹𝗈𝖽𝗒𝗅 𝖳𝗒𝗉𝗁𝗈𝗇 & 𝖶𝖺𝗂𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌! 𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

𝘈𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳-𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘳, 𝘢 𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩-𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘙𝘢𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘸𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘢 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬.

﹙𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭﹚

NOTE: the writers block has been insane lately, I have lots of asks to answer 😭 so sorry everyone! Have this small Zodyl piece as a slight apology.

The neon lights of the border district flickered with a frantic energy, casting long, jagged shadows against the rain-slicked pavement.

Inside "The Rusty Ladle," the atmosphere was a thick soup of steam, the smell of cheap grease, and the loud, boisterous chatter of laborers and travelers. It was the kind of place where people went to be invisible, aka a perfect stop for a group of raiders moving between territories under the shroud of secrecy.

Zodyl sat at a cramped corner booth, his large frame looking decidedly out of place against the flimsy plastic furniture. He wore a heavy, nondescript poncho that masked his usual silhouette, his eyes constantly scanning the room.

Beside him, his companions spoke in low, hushed tones about the next city, but Zodyl found his attention drifting.

You were weaving through the crowded aisles with a grace that seemed impossible given the chaos of the dinner rush. In one hand, you balanced a tray laden with steaming bowls; with the other, you deftly dodged a rowdy patron’s swinging arm without losing your smile.

It wasn't just your looks, though in the dim, grimy light of the diner, you possessed a striking vision that stood out. A diamond in the trash if you will. It was your aura.

In a world as jagged and cruel as the one Zodyl navigated, your presence was warm. It was a grounded, genuine kindness that didn't feel like a performance.

"Evening, folks! Sorry for the wait, it’s a madhouse tonight," you said, sliding up to their table. You set down a round of waters. When you turned to Zodyl to take his order, you didn't flinch at his size or the intensity of his gaze. Instead, you gave him a small, tired, but incredibly sincere tilt of the head. "What can I get for you? Our spicy marrow stew is the only thing that'll keep you warm if you're planning on heading north."

Zodyl leaned back, his fingers tracing the edge of the table. You looked like someone who had every reason to be cynical, working a thankless job in a border town, yet your eyes held a flicker of something soft.

"The marrow stew then,” Zodyl finally rumbled, his voice a low vibration that seemed to make the water in the glasses ripple. "Make it a double portion. We’re in a hurry."

"You got it," you winked, a quick, effortless gesture before darting off to attend to a shouting customer three tables away.

Zodyl watched you go. He watched how you handled a disgruntled diner with a gentle hand on their shoulder and a joke that diffused the tension instantly. He watched the way you tucked a stray lock of hair behind your ear, completely unaware that one of the most dangerous men in the Ground was dissecting your every move.

"Boss,” Cthoni said abruptly, leaning in. "We leave in twenty minutes."

"I know," Zodyl murmured, though his eyes never left your retreating form.

When you returned with the food, the diner had reached a fever pitch. You were flushed from the heat of the kitchen, a few beads of sweat at your temple, but that "warmth" hadn't dimmed.

As you set the heavy bowl in front of him, your hand brushed against his—a brief, accidental contact.

To Zodyl, whose life was defined by the cold mechanics of power and survival, the heat radiating from you felt like a physical shock.

"Eat up," you leaned in slightly, lowering your voice so only he could hear. "You look like you've had a long day. Or a long year. Take a breath while you can, okay?"

You patted the table twice and disappeared back into the steam of the kitchen before he could respond.

Zodyl looked down at the stew. It was simple, humble food that was meant for the masses. He took a bite, the spice hitting the back of his throat, and for the first time in weeks, the tension in his shoulders actually eased.

As the Raiders stood to leave, tossing a handful of Galla onto the table, Zodyl lingered for a heartbeat.

He saw you across the room, laughing at something a coworker said, your silhouette framed by the glowing heat of the stoves. You looked up, catching his eye across the sea of heads. You didn't wave, but you gave him a knowing nod, clearly a silent wish for a safe journey.

Zodyl stepped out into the cold, biting wind of the night, pulling his hood up. The world was still gray, still violent, and still waiting for him. But as he began the trek toward the next city, the memory of that small, busy food joint stayed with him—specifically the girl with the warm eyes who, for twenty minutes, had made the world feel a little less like a wasteland.

"An interesting find," he whispered to the wind, a faint, rare smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

So I went a little (a lot) crazy while writing, my Janka Fic (linked if you want to read it) and one of the ways that craziness manifested is my deep desire to see the world I was writing about and name things so I could make both Jabber and Zanka sound like they genuinely know their way around The Ground. So I made a map.

This map is in no way canon or accurate. Urana has been so specific about Kamuatari being Japanese, and according to the Wiki, that’s the south, which I couldn't get my head around. So that's the point that started my spiral into insanity.

It's pretty obvious at this point that they don't got any centralised government going on. The best law enforcement are the Hell Guards who have proven themselves to be playing fast and loose with the concept of morals, considering their methods. Most people seem to be organised into city-states and towns with very little government. I'm not even sure if they managed to develope the idea of a nation state yet tbh.

It's also pretty obvious that they have some pretty severe classism issue going on at least Kamuatari. Seeing how Hyo was "picked up from the slums" was seen as something special and the teacher felt the need to state her extraordinary talent to justify her presence, combined with the Nijiku's whole deal, it's giving the impression of society being very very seperated based on wealth and the like. Add to that that the clan (persumably) passes down authority via inheritance we've got a whole medieval system in the making already. And yet so far they seem to be the only one with a class system that far developed.