#Grief is such a familiar friend
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revrevrew-writblr · 7 months ago
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Haunted
Hero took a sip of her coffee, her black dress flowing in the wind. Villain sat across the table, legs crossed, watching the people buzz by. 
“You once told me that you lived your life with no regrets. Is that still true?” 
Hero shook her head. “I don’t know anymore.”
Villain grew quiet, a rare moment of silence enveloping him. “Do you still see their faces?” His voice was almost drowned out by the wind, “I do.”
“No.” Supervillain smiled at Hero, “That’s not what I see at all.” Blood spewed from his mouth. His voice haunted her. “Look at all you have done under my guidance Hero. My beautiful Dau-” 
Hero twisted her knife up and into his heart. “You are nothing to me. You bastard!” Hero shoved him off her blade.
“Hero? Hero, untie me okay? I can help you just untie me and we can make all of this right.” Villain’s voice hardly reaching her above the sound of her boiling blood. It wasn’t enough. No one here could be allowed to live even if their part to play was small they were all guilty. 
“No Villain. I’m not done yet.” 
Hero shook her self out of the memory. “Is it wrong that I still love him? Even after I- I-” Hero’s breath hitched a tears escaping her eyes.
Villain’s hand twitched. A powerful urge to touch Hero, to comfort her; remnants of a different life.  
“I don’t think about them at all.” Hero breathed out. “Am I… broken?” Her controlled expression at odds with her wet cheeks and shaky voice. 
“Don’t think that, please.” please - please Hero save me. I’m so scared. Villain couldn’t stop the images in his mind; he couldn’t stop the voices.
“Please Hero- Please save me. I’m so scared.” A small woman was covered with C4, a detonator no doubt in Supervillain’s capable hands. Hero trembled, pressing the barrel of her gun against the woman.
Supervillain’s laughter echoed all around them. “Do it Hero or I’ll kill everyone in this building. We wouldn’t want to cause another unfortunate… accident. Think of the children. Think of your precious Villain.”  
“I’m s-so sorry.” Hero let a bullet go too weak to face what she had done. The woman slumped in the chair lifeless. The light on the center of the bomb turning green. Supervillain would abstain from bring the building down. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I-”
Hero’s screams mixed with her father’s laughter. 
That night could only be described as a slaughter.
He had lied before. He didn’t see the faces of the innocent civilians that Hero had left slaughtered in her wake. He saw only Hero’s anger, her eyes reflecting fire and her shadow chasing death.
The gritty sound of a chair being pushed against concrete knocked Villain from the memory. 
Hero wasn’t sure where she would go. “It’s time for you to pass on Hero. For better or for worse.” 
“I’m scared.” Hero’s face mimicked her first victim. Her neck turning red from Villain’s blade. She had tarried on earth far too long since that night.
“I love you.” Villain reached out to touch Hero’s hand as if he could keep her close for just a little longer. His hand never made contact. Hero’s ghost dissolved with the rushing wind.
Thought #246
Hero smoothed her dress and looked in the mirror. She took a deep breath and grabbed her purse and keys.
She opened the door and saw Villain standing there. He looked down at her and crossed his arms.
"Don't." She said turning to lock her door.
"Where have you been?" He asked, following her down the hallway.
She sighed. "I've been busy."
"Busy with what?" He asked sharply.
She continued down the stairs and out onto the street. They walked in silence for a while.
She stopped in front of a church and turned to face him. "With planning the funeral of my dad."
She shook her head and turned away again. "There are seats in the back if you want to join. If not,"
She walked towards the doors of the church.
"Leave."
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magikkittenz · 4 months ago
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something about finding safety in a bed that's long been empty
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autistickaitovocaloid · 5 months ago
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I've been thinking about him all day to be honest.
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tetzoro · 10 months ago
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i don’t think i’ve talked about it much on this blog because tbh it’s a really difficult thing for me to talk about in general but a year ago today, i lost my baby kitty zelda and i miss her so very much ᰔ
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angorwhosebabyisthis · 3 months ago
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one of these days i'll write up a post about the parallels and foils between vivi and hermes and why it fucking kills me. for now all i can say is in hindsight the 'latched onto vivi Hard as a kid' to 'latched onto hermes Hard as an adult' pipeline is Real
#ffix#ffxiv#vivi ornitier#ffxiv hermes#final fantasy xiv#final fantasy ix#the absolute fuckor#hermes really is just such an interesting and visceral deconstruction of/foil to vivi's themes#ranging from *vivi* being the one in the same role as the familiars here#in comparison to hermes meaning the best in the world and trying So Hard; but ultimately coming from a place of immense privilege#and the fact that he was fumbling around in the dark in a society that very aggressively tried to insulate him from any meaningful#perspective on the shitty things he had internalized about familiars without realizing it; much less knowledge to unpack it#and how in the end he still was shitty to and about familiars; including and especially his daughters; who he abused#and some of that stemmed at least partly from his own selfishness and the things he was in denial about#to the fact that vivi had *support* when it came to things like grief and fear and life being precious#and the importance of finding your own meaning in it; while at the same time treating unavoidable death with weight and respect#and people in his life being like 'yeah it's pretty fucking understandable to be fucked up about all this'#instead of at most condescendingly treating him like a freak and an outlier for like. fucking being sad or angry about things. lol#bc *vivi gets angry.* he doesn't just feel sad he gets fucking furious; he feels real ass hate; he wants people to die for what they've done#and when he *does* question that in himself it's not ~uwu if i hate people i'm just as bad as them~; it's 'i've repressed so hard that i#literally have forgotten how to identify what sadness feels like; and it bothers me that my grief response skips straight to hatred now'#i just. god i love vivi so much i could go on. anyway when someone tries to pull a 'familiar-equivalents are soulless puppets#with a single purpose and it's fine to kill them if they're defective or obsolete' vivi tries to explode him with his mind#and his friends go i'll help! and that's why i love ffix#ffixtag#ffxivtag#FF tag
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hecksupremechips · 10 months ago
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The best feeling in the world is when there’s a piece of media you know you love and you’ve hyped it up as your favorite thing for so long but you haven’t revisited it in a while so you start to worry if it’s really as good as you make it out to be and so you go back and revisit it and it’s like. Oh this is even better than I remembered this shit rules
#the klock keeps ticking#i always get this feeling when i play 999 but tonight i got it with the letter#cuz ive uh finally decided to bite the bullet and play the evil meanie route where everyone dies 😟#a route ive put off for so long cuz its just too damn sad to think about akjdksk god it hurts#and ive played like for the most part every route of this game EXCEPT this one but i know the ending is really dark and i need to see it#plus i will at least get my beloved torture scene in so thats nice#i didnt kill off isabella though its a coma route which i hope still allows me to get the ending i want cuz i mean shell still be out of#commission in the final scene so hopefully it works out#but yeah no i started off tonight on the marianne chapter and while i did skip around through it cuz ive played it many times and i just#wanna get to the important stuff already alskj i also just replayed some of the best parts#aka the shit where lorraine appears and the gay shit alksks and god like hnnnghh not only does this chapter still ruin me emotionally#i also just remembered why i love this character so much and remembered just how good the character writing in this game is#and i also played into the rebecca chapter and didnt skip as much cuz i actually am not as familiar with the coma route#cuz it makes me sad and i never revisited it lol and i havent gotten to The Scene that makes me sob yet#its so coming though dont worry but idk i guess its just been cuz ive been thinking about p3 so much lately#and in particular shinji both the death route and coma route but in particular the coma cuz thats what im writing#and damn lol the letter just writes the grief and nuanced relationships and death stuff so much better lol god#like marianne loses her childhood best friend whom she has a gay ass relationship with to suicide and like its just better#she blames herself and still isnt even kinda okay with it after 13 years#like it just fucking ruined her and the only thing keeping her from losing it is her repression and drinking problem and unattached sex#and then with coma route well fucking first off isabellas friends actually like. visit her frequently damn#and they just all have such unique ways of coping like Zach is being optimistic so no one gets too upset#rebecca is sorta in charge of making sure everything goes smoothly she has to contact the family and make big decisions#and shes also just taking the most stress and shes got so many complicated feelings around isabella going on but she genuinely cannot stand#that isabella is hurt shes fucking destroyed she loves isabella and then ashton AAAAA god yeah i also just remembered that hes SUCH a good#character hes like being a genuine asshole right like Rebecca calls to tell him that isabella is comatose now and he literally doesnt let#her say anything he literally says ‘i dont have time for other things rn’ like the wellness of his friend is just ‘other things’#but you just know thats not it not at all hes burying himself in work to the point of destruction so he can figure out who did this and make#everything okay and he refuses to show even an ounce of vulnerability cuz THE SECOND HE DOES IT ALL COMES OUT AND HE CANT GET OUT OF BED#ANYMORE CUZ HOW IS HE SUPPOSED TO BE OKAY WHEN THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE IS DYING
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bumblingbabooshka · 2 years ago
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A Star Trek Novel called “Pocket Full of Lies” really has NO business going so hard.
#IMPORTANT NOTE: I only read Star Trek Novels as they pertain to Tuvok#so I have no idea about how the novel reads overall#but the Tuvok storyline????? Damn. DAMN dude.#what if you were suffering from a loss that affected and changed you so deeply that even those closest to you no longer recognized you?#and that change is symbolized and mirrored through this alternate reality version of your best friend who in YOUR universe also no longer#understands you...could never understand you...but THIS version of her is familiar. You can share each other's pain. You understand one#another in a way no one else does. And what if your inner grief/turmoil#was symbolized again in this alternate timeline by a constant war that's been raging f#for thousands of years with no end in sight no matter how hard you fight. The fighting in the end means nothing. The violence means nothing.#The death means nothing bc when you die another will take its place.#'His death was meaningless like this is meaningless' you think initially only to find that  NO! It's the holding on to the PAIN that's#meaningless. It's the SUFFERING that's meaningless.#Tuvok being sent to convince ALT Janeway to give herself up to Starfleet but being unable to do so because he sympathizes and empathizes#with her...because (on another level) she isn't ready to give up the war (the suffering grief) and neither is he because to them the war#and the pain has BECOME the people they're grieving (Elieth & Daughter) so to give up feeling pain is to give up feeling love#but that isn't TRUE!!! and we see that in how Tuvok actually rebukes the affections and concerns of those attempting to reach out to him#and offer love...in reality this 'protection' or 'vigilance' is unhealthy and closes them off from healing and love. Bad coping mechanism.#Initially Tuvok pushes away everyone he comes across but through helping Janeway he helps himself and is finally able to take steps towards#acceptance in the purging of his anger on Dayne (Alt Janeway's husband who willfully allowed her daughter to die)#and we can see this in his outlook on how to move forward. In the beginning he's like 'I will never heal from this and I'll just live the#rest of my life never feeling safe or at peace.' <- defining and living his life according to the pain he's suffered#but in the end he has a more hopeful outlook...he sees that there are people around who want to be there for him and that he wants to lean#on...maybe forgiveness doesn't mean literally forgiving those who caused you to suffer but instead finally letting go of that suffering#and living according to joy...friendship..two hands clasped together. love.#novel experiences#Tuvok#Janeway#st voyager#oh ALSO the fact that Janeway always manages to survive being turned from a good thing to a very bittersweet thing for Tuvok bc his own#son was not so lucky...-chefs kiss-
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thebirdandhersong · 2 years ago
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#as a side note i had a moment of horrid irony when i thought suddenly that I WISHED mr knight were there#because he was at the vigil last year and used to be a part of my church. and i suddenly missed all my old housemates#who were here last year! went to hug people during the peace and a good friend asked if i was okay#i was like 😭😭😭😭 not really and then turned around and SAW the boy and was like well this is a twist in the plot i truly dont care for#anyway all's well i just cried buckets more my heart's been wrung OUT#he lives fae away. he was not supposed to come. anyway he did and i shook his hand formally because he offered to (???)#*far away#it was totally bizarre#he did not stay for long which. thank God. i wouldve been so much more tired if he had#but he wished me happy birthday which irked me because we'd had an unspoken agreement to not wish each other happy birthday (for fear of#mixed signals) which. happened i guess#it was INCREDIBLY bizarre. the safest ive ever felt in my life was when he was holding me#and now he's a familiar stranger i know too well whom i dont WANT to know#anyway it has been a heartwrenching and soul draining Lent and past six months or more and i was ready to cry#and so i did. bawled like a baby after certain readings and songs. cried and cried and cried#re: reasons for that concerning the ex boyfriend: it is SO weird and i dont know how to deal with it#like. i still have so much love that it feels like grief and the grief bleeds into that love too#but that love isnt for HIM anymore or at least not the person i found he was. so now it really does have nowhere to go#ANYHOW IT'S LATE BUT THE POINT IS. HE IS RISEN AND THERE ARE MORE IMPORTANT THINGS#THAN SEEING YOUR EX BOYFRIEND AT CHURCH AND BEING LIKE ?????? HUH????????
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sovamurka · 2 years ago
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Me: hahaha, Heroes of Envell ended on such a good note! All of our protagonists are so hopeful and on their way to heal!
Also me: and now they will live with the fact that they watched the world crash and burn for the rest of their lives! They will probably slowly go insane from all the memories that only they remember! And their horrifyingly real trauma will always be with them no matter what!
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mommyisdownwiththesickness · 3 months ago
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I lost my cat Daisy in April. She was hit by a car. She was my familiar for 13 years. I miss her every day.
Don't worry, I’ll always be with you
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augustinewrites · 1 year ago
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“what’s on these?” megumi asks, holding up a box of memory cards.
cleaning day always unearthed all types of lost and forgotten items. sometimes it was clothes long forgotten in you and gojo’s closet, other times it was the kid’s old books or toys. you knew every inch of your little apartment, so most times you could identify any mystery items that came up.
“i don’t know,” you hum, plucking a card from the box to inspect it a little more closely. the only hint as to what’s actually on it seems to just be a date.
2006
…and it’s in gojo’s handwriting.
curious, you pop one into the video player and turn on the tv. the kids join you on the couch, clearly eager to entertain any distraction from your cleaning crusade.
when the screen flickers to life, a familiar courtyard comes into view.
you can’t help the gasp when haibara comes into focus…but then you see satoru standing standing across from him, arms spread out.
“who is that?” megumi asks, pointing at haibara.
you think of the bright smile of the boy still lingering in the edges of your memory and tell him, softly, “an old friend.”
“suguru!” gojo shouts, looking towards the person holding the camera. he’s all messy hair and wide smiles, exactly how you remember him in his youth. “make sure you get this one!”
geto grumbles about how he’s paying attention, and suddenly you remember exactly what this is.
“ah, these are from when yaga would make us record ourselves practicing cursed technique application,” you explain as a haibara lines up a shot with a pencil.
the pencil hits gojo in the face, gifting him a small cut on his cheek. “ah, shit!”
behind the camera you can hear nanami and geto laughing as haibara apologizes profusely, and shoko comes over to practice her healing. you come over too, holding a cloth.
“don’t pout,” your younger self says, reaching up to wipe a thin trail of blood from his cheek. “you’ll get it next time.”
as soon you turn away, you hear geto snicker and the camera suddenly zooms in on gojo’s face.
he’s blushing.
“ugh,” you hear him groan behind the three of you, finally finished cleaning the bathroom. “are we done cleaning yet?”
“we’re taking a break!” tsumiki tells him, as megumi pops another card in.
gojo ignores megumi’s protests, stealing the spot on the couch next to you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders with a smirk. “move your feet, lose your seat.”
tsumiki, angel that she is, moves over so her brother can sit on your other side as the video starts.
this time, gojo is the one recording, holding the camera out so it’s pointed at his own smiling face. “haibara versus nanami, round one!”
you feel your boyfriend stiffen beside you, looking over to see an odd look on his face. “oh, fuck—”
“jar,” megumi says flatly.
he glares at the kid, and is about to get up when you stop him. “wait! i want to watch this!”
he slumps back, throwing an arm over his eyes as he groans dramatically. ignoring him, you watch the fight play out, which ends with haibara whining whilst in a headlock.
you hear geto’s murmured commentary off camera as nanami releases his classmate, expecting the video to zoom in on the victor.
but it drifts a little to the left, where you’re laughing with shoko on the sidelines.
“so obvious,” geto scoffs. the video wobbles for a moment before being pointed directly at the tips of satoru’s shoes, then ends abruptly.
when you glance over at satoru, he’s pulled his sunglasses over his eyes as if they can hide his pink cheeks.
the next videos are similar. memories of your past viewed through a different lens, showing you things you’d never picked up on when you were living them.
some moments you watch with an aching heart. like when suguru leans close to you and makes a joke at satoru’s expense, or when you reach up to ruffle haibara’s hair.
(moments with cherished friends proving that the grief of losing them never got any lighter as you moved forward with your life, but at some point you’d just gotten used to carrying the weight.)
but what might be most interesting is seeing yourself in satoru’s eyes.
his focus, whether he was the one holding the camera or not, always seemed to drift to you. for all the times he’d denied crushing on you in your early years, the camera proves otherwise.
the way he peeks at you shyly as you fix your hair before a fight.
the way he reaches out instinctively whenever you’re knocked backwards.
the way he smiles brightly whenever you laugh at one of his jokes.
the way your gaze would occasionally meet his, and his smile seemed to come naturally.
“okay, that’s enough for tonight,” satoru announces, shutting the tv off and shooing the children away. “go clean your rooms, you freeloaders.”
you stand, looping your arms around his neck before he can run away. smiling, you gently pull his glasses off, tossing them onto the couch.
“hey! those are gucci—”
you shut him up with a kiss, feeling the way his lips curve upwards against yours. “i love you, you know that?”
blue eyes meet yours, the pensive look he’d been wearing melting into something a little softer. something reserved for you. “you’re obsessed with me, i know.”
you simply laugh, letting him dip down to give you another kiss.
(because you’d had his heart in your pocket long before either of you had realized.)
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deadsetobsessions · 6 months ago
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Ghost King Phantom was an odd addition to the League. J’onn was often the last to find others odd but from the get-go, Phantom was the only quiet spot he’d have in his telepathic field. At first, it was off putting as most of the people that slipped beyond the reach of his immediate field tended to be villains and the like. But as Phantom remained in the Justice League, J’onn had come to learn to appreciate the calm spot in the turbulent sea of his friends’ and coworkers’ thoughts.
“You have taken to me faster than the others. Why is that?”
Phantom hummed purringly, another peculiar sound that J’onn had yet to see any of his human or alien heroes recreate with any success. They sat at their usual spot, face facing the cosmos and backs guarded by their friends. Plus, J’onn and Phantom could look directly into the sun without painfully loosing their sight.
“I guess I’ve always been fond of the stars. Of space, and everything in it. What about you? Why did we become friends so fast?”
J’onn shook his head, a human motion he’d learned a long time ago to imitate. “No, we became slower friends than most, as my telepathic abilities allow for easier communication and understanding of one another’s motives. With the exception of Batman but I have found he is often the exception to most expectations.”
“That checks out,” King Phantom laughed. “Well, I’m glad we became friends. It’s very cool to meet a Martian. Space is one of my Obsessions, you see.”
J’onn nodded. “I see. I am sorry that I am the only Martian you will meet.”
“You are?”
J’onn nodded again, slower. Sadder. His facial muscles, in this form, does not imitate human patterns well and he knew that most people could not pick out his emotions without his verbal expression.
Intuition tells J’onn that Phantom knew regardless.
“Would you mind telling me what happened?” His voice is gentle, the emotions that Phantom pushes at him are gentle and questing, but not demanding. It has been a long time since anyone has asked him of memories he clung to. And so, J’onn J’onzz speaks in the way that was natural to him, the way his people communicated.
With his mental voice flowing into Phantom’s head, J’onn tells him of the wonders that used to be his home. He provided images and sounds of how his home shone as the sun rose, how the shadows that fell when the sun dipped beneath the horizon felt as comforting as a Martian’s first telepathic cradle. He tells Phantom of his twin brother, grief and agony entwined in the memories of someone he had loved. He spoke of his wife and their daughter, and their cozy home on the windswept plains of Mars.
King Phantom sat still with him as the Watch-Tower moved along, around a king and his friend who was recounting the stagnant grief of his past.
J’onn tells him of the virus, borne of his twin’s hatred, and how he watched everything around him burn. How he had desperately tried to prevent his wife and daughter from using their telepathic abilities. He spoke of his failures. He wove together a tapestry of insanity and grief, built upon the burning bodies of his wife and their beloved daughter. He tells Phantom how the Mars now was just ashes and dust of his former home. How he could not look upon the planet and not see the shades of his wife and daughter and parents and friends, walking upon a barren planet that no longer held anything familiar to the last Martian.
Phantom had hummed again, a soothing rumble. Sadness dripped from the edges of his consciousness.
“If it was not for the Doctor, I would be dead and shattered.” J’onn spoke for the first time in three hours. “It is… less painful to live. I have purpose.”
“I am glad that you are not either of those things.” Phantom stood. “Come with me. I have to show you something.”
J’onn trusted Phantom, and thus followed the king into the glowing green portal.
They flew past many doors, Phantom often glancing at him before shaking his head and changing directions.
They stopped at a door that felt familiar. J’onn knew it from somewhere.
“Go ahead, open the door. But know that you can’t stay long. You don’t belong to this realm quite yet. Not for quite a while.” Phantom moves, hand gesturing towards the door without a knob.
“How..?”
“How else? You have telekinesis, don’t you?”
J’onn blinked. Right. He opened the door and- oh.
The door warped with the screaming storm of grief and love and oh-how-I’ve-missed-you that J’onn unleashed.
Because there in front of him were M’yri’ah and K’hym, his wife and daughter.
The door was an imitation of his home, back when he had not known true loss.
“Impossible,” he stumbled back.
“You are in the realm of the dead. You didn’t think the title of the Ghost King was for fun, did you, J’onn?” Phantom smiled and- a move J’onn would definitely engage in petty payback for, later after he’d gotten over the shock- pushed him flying right into the room.
M’yri’ah and K’hym cradled him with telepathic swirls of love and husband!-dad!-love-love-love-safe!
And J’onn shuddered and gathered the his world in his arms to say goodbye.
——
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grilledcheeseandguavajelly · 2 months ago
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“Agatha can’t control her powers and kills a bunch of people, this explains why Death is in love with her because it means she gets more bodies” No.
No no no.
I need “Agatha can’t control her powers and the first time someone blasted her with their magic they died right in front of her and she was only seven years old and terrified and alone until suddenly there was a small little girl across from her who gently took her hand and told her it was okay”
I need “Agatha can’t control her powers and had a tantrum, purple exploding out of her, but the other witch was too fast and Agatha blinked and they were dead on the ground and she scrambled back against the wall, curling up into a little ball and shaking, shaking, shaking, until someone just as young and soft as her stroked her hair back and told her they knew it was an accident”
I need “Agatha can’t control her powers and was beaten and bruised by her mother until she couldn’t take it anymore and ran off into the woods and was blasted by someone who thought she was a witch hunter, and she didn’t even realize what was happening until it was too late. Agatha climbing into a tree and scraping her cheek and trembling as she stared at the lifeless witch, something rattling deep inside of her that sounded like a stranger’s voice. And then the stranger appearing through the thick, standing over the dead body and instantly looking up, looking for Agatha. Finding her in the tree and climbing in with her. Smoothing a thumb across her cheek until it didn’t sting anymore”
I need “Agatha can’t control her powers and any spell she tries goes haywire, the final teacher that swore she could fix her grey and lifeless on the floor as Agatha sat up on the kitchen table and just stared and stared, tears falling, always falling, until that familiar face appeared through the bedroom doorway, watching Agatha, not the woman, and threaded their fingers together. Guided her to cracked, dusty skin and forced her to feel it, hand pressing hers into dead flesh and murmuring ‘exceptional’ under her breath before explaining every single step of reaping a soul. Talking and talking until Agatha wasn’t crying anymore, until she couldn’t remember why she had been upset in the first place”
I need “Agatha can’t control her powers but she also couldn’t control her temper, and suddenly half of a coven was dead before her, barely eighteen years old, and then the girl, also freshly a woman, the closest thing she knew to having a friend, sliding up behind her and placing a hand on her shoulder, wiping her tears away. Shushing her pleas of ‘why can’t I control it? Why do I ruin everything I touch?’ with soft murmurs of ‘there’s nothing wrong with you. You didn’t kill them. They simply… bent to your power.’”
I need “Agatha can’t control her powers but she sure as hell tried, until she was tied to a stake and her coven fell at her feet and her mother crumpled before her, hellbent until the moment she died to punish Agatha for things she had never meant to do. Agatha, with her grief and her relief and her freedom, finally, somehow still sobbing over her mother’s death, curled up far away and safe in the woods. Safe until Death came for her, hands cupping her face too tenderly, too delicately, and forced Agatha to meet her eyes. Death, who had somehow become the only one to ever show her mercy and kindness and compassion, leaning her forehead against hers and whispering ‘it’s okay. I am so proud of you.” Death leaning in so, so hesitantly and pressing the smallest kiss to her mouth. Breaths hitching. Eyes meeting. Long, loaded stares and trembling fingers and Death herself smiling at Agatha like she actually meant it. Agatha fisting her cloak and yanking her closer and letting Death suck the air right out of her lungs, and Agatha somehow living anyway”
That’s what I need.
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cumironi · 2 months ago
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HUMP, HUMP, LOVELY LITTLE HUMP, choso. k
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you and choso kamo are supposed to spend the night just to enjoy some wine and a calm atmosphere deep inside the forest of the school ground, but it seems like the half-curse starts feeling a little bit too human..
warning. public space, humping, grinding, pet-names.
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after the chaos of the shibuya incident, you and choso found yourselves drawn together in ways that surprised you both. it was an event that left deep scars, taking away far too many friends, colleagues, and students who meant the world to you. in those dark days, as you tried to move on, choso was always there—quietly supportive, offering a steady shoulder to lean on. somehow, despite his own pain and loss, he always seemed to know exactly when you needed someone, as though he could sense your sorrow before you could even voice it.
day by day, choso’s presence became something familiar and grounding, a rare comfort amidst the lingering grief. as you spent more time together, you noticed how naturally you fell into conversation, how easy it was to share the heavy silence or laugh at some small, passing joke. with each conversation, each silent moment, you could feel the distance between you shrinking. before long, he wasn’t just a friend but someone who understood your pain and could bear the weight of it alongside you.
but then, something shifted—almost imperceptibly at first. you found yourself becoming hyper-aware of his every little detail: the way his eyes softened whenever he looked at you, the comforting warmth of his quiet presence, even the way he listened so intently, as though he wanted to absorb every word you said. his voice had a gentle timbre that seemed to settle the unease in your heart, and his hands, so steady and sure, held a tenderness you hadn’t noticed before.
you began catching yourself lingering on these small, delicate observations, wondering if he noticed your gaze lingering just a little too long. each gesture felt like it held a quiet significance. the tension between you two was subtle, simmering just beneath the surface—a spark that hadn’t quite ignited, but was there all the same. and as the days went on, it became harder to deny that something was shifting between you, a quiet spark that seemed to grow brighter with every shared look, every gentle touch, and every stolen moment in the stillness of loss.
in the quiet embrace of the woods on school grounds, you and choso sat nestled under the towering trees. the night was calm, draped in the silvery glow of the moon, casting everything in a delicate, ethereal light. beside you, choso was close enough that you could feel his warmth, your backs pressed gently against the sturdy trunk of the tree, as though it were holding you both up, anchoring you to this quiet moment.
the woods around you was alive with a soft symphony of nighttime sounds—the rustling of leaves in the breeze, the gentle hum of distant crickets, and the occasional whisper of branches swaying above. moonlight filtered down through the canopy, breaking into scattered pools of silver around you, illuminating the world in a soft glow that felt almost magical.
you glanced over at choso, noticing how the pale light softened his features, casting shadows along the curve of his cheek and highlighting the thoughtful expression in his eyes. there was something serene about his presence, a quiet strength that comforted you, grounding you in this stillness. without a word, he met your gaze, and for a moment, it felt like the entire world had faded away, leaving just the two of you, bathed in the cool light of the moon.
as the night stretched on, you found yourself lost in the details—the way the moonlight danced across his face, the quiet rhythm of his breathing, and the comforting warmth of his shoulder just a breath away. sitting there together, the weight of words seemed unnecessary. the silence was thick, not with loneliness, but with a silent understanding that you both shared.
you raise the bottle of wine to your lips, letting the cool liquid slide down your throat as your gaze drifts over to choso. tonight, he looks different—not in his usual dark, battle-worn attire, but something softer, more relaxed. he’s dressed in a pair of loose, dark baggy jeans that hang comfortably on him, and a deep navy knit button-down with a few buttons left undone, exposing a hint of skin at his collar. his long, dark hair, usually tied back with a certain restraint, now cascades freely over his shoulders, framing his face in the moonlight.
there’s something almost vulnerable in this new look, a side of him you hadn’t seen before, and you can’t help the smirk that curves on your lips as you take him in. “you look good,” you murmur, voice soft but laced with a teasing warmth. choso’s eyes flick up to yours, a faint surprise lingering in his gaze, and for a brief moment, you catch a glimmer of something softer beneath his usual stoic exterior.
in the stillness, you realize he seems more human like this—more approachable, more tangible, the hardness of his role as a curse softened by the simplicity of casual clothes. his expression shifts slightly, almost self-conscious under your gaze, yet he doesn’t look away. the moonlight plays over his face, casting gentle shadows, and for a second, it feels as if the weight of his past falls away, leaving just him—raw and real, sitting beside you in the quiet night.
as you lean back against the tree, choso’s eyes seem to soften in the dappled moonlight. there’s a subtle warmth in his usually stoic gaze that mirrors the quiet understanding woven into the night. he nods, his low, gravelly voice carrying a rare note of vulnerability as he responds to your teasing remark.
“thanks. it’s... different,” he admits, his voice quieter than usual. “i’m trying to... be more normal, i guess.” choso glances down, almost shyly, as if the simplicity of his choice— with yuuji’s help, in outfit is something he’s not used to voicing out loud.
you lean back against the rough bark, adjust your back to find a comfortable spot, letting a soft smile play on your lips as you listen to choso’s quiet admission. there’s something almost endearing about his choice of words, the faint hesitation as he glances down, as if self-conscious about this simple, casual look he’s trying on for the first time. his usual stoicism is softened, and you can feel a warmth in the air, a quiet vulnerability that seems to belong solely to this moment.
“well, you’re doing a pretty good job of it,” you say, your voice carrying a playful edge as you study him. “honestly, you look more human than a curse right now.” he looks up at you, eyes widening slightly, curiosity flickering in his gaze. you reach out, fingertips grazing his cheek in a gentle, teasing touch. “though, if you really want to blend in, maybe just a little foundation to warm up that pale skin, and you’d be all set,” you add with a smirk.
a soft blush rises beneath your fingers, barely visible in the moonlight but enough to make you notice. choso lets out a quiet chuckle, and the sound is warm, low, carrying a softness that catches you off guard. there’s a momentary flicker of surprise in choso’s eyes at the feel of your fingertips on his cheek. yet, he doesn’t pull away, his gaze fixing on yours, almost as though he’s trying to understand the unfamiliar sensation.
he simply looks at you, his gaze deepening, as though trying to understand something he’s only just now beginning to feel. he holds himself still, his body so near to yours, his proximity like a warm current in the chilled night air. for the first time, he seems relaxed, his usual stoic facade slipping away, replaced by a quiet, thoughtful expression.
“is that so?” he murmurs, voice barely more than a low rumble. he stays like this a while, just looking at you, his face cast in the soft glow of the moonlight. the forest hums with life around you, the soft hooting of an owl somewhere in the distance, the rustle of wind through the trees. but choso’s attention is focused on you, a rare intensity in his gaze. his voice, when he speaks, is a soft murmur—quieter than normal, almost as though he’s afraid of breaking the moment.
you nod slowly, letting your fingers linger for just a second longer on his cheek, the slight warmth of his skin beneath your touch almost startling. your gaze softening as you lean just a fraction closer. “it is so,” you murmur back, your voice as gentle as a breeze. your fingertips linger on his cheek longer than you intend to, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath them grounding you in the closeness of this quiet, unexpected moment. for a heartbeat, you wonder if he feels the same spark, the same undeniable warmth threading between you.
reluctantly, you pull your hand away, the night air rushing into the space between you as you reach for the bottle once more, taking a slow sip. it’s only then that you notice your leg, bare beneath the almost-too-short hem of your skirt, is brushing lightly against his. the touch is subtle, barely there, but enough to send a quiet thrill through you, a reminder of how near he is, how his warmth radiates even in the cool night air.
choso’s gaze flickers downward, catching the subtle contact, and for a brief moment, his expression softens further. his eyes trail over the gentle line of your leg resting against his, lingering just long enough to make your heart flutter. he doesn’t shift away, holding himself steady, his attention returning to your face as though savoring every detail. a subtle smile plays on his lips, almost shy, and the quiet understanding that’s passed between you grows, filling the spaces between words, settling like a secret shared only by the two of you.
as you sip from the bottle, choso’s gaze lingers on the curve of your neck, the gentle movements of your throat. the moon casts a delicate light over the contours of your face, adding a touch of softness to the shadows that cling to your features. the night, once filled with the soft symphony of the forest, seems to fall away, leaving only the two of you in this quiet, almost intimate space.
choso’s gaze drifts slowly to your lips, glistening with a faint sheen of red wine, and his eyes linger there, a barely perceptible intensity flickering in their depths. for a moment, he seems lost, captivated by the sight before him, his expression softened in a way you’ve rarely seen. his gaze trails downward, over the curve of your neck, and settles on your bare thigh, just inches away from his.
his voice, low and almost reverent, breaks the silence. “you look beautiful,” he whispers, the words slipping out like a quiet confession meant only for you. “as always.”
a warmth spreads through you, deeper than the wine, more stirring than the moonlight. his words settle in the night air, soft and genuine a little bit of flirtatious, and your heart races at the quiet vulnerability in his tone. his eyes lift back to yours, holding a tenderness that makes you feel as though time itself has paused, allowing you both to savor this moment suspended in the cool night.
you take in a breath, finding yourself inching just a little closer, captivated by the depth in his gaze and the softness of his words, feeling the spark between you both ignite into something undeniable.
you hum softly in satisfaction at his compliment, a warm flutter blooming in your chest at his genuine words. the way he looks at you, like he truly sees you, sends a delightful shiver down your spine. “thanks,” you reply, your voice laced with a hint of bashfulness as you set the wine bottle down beside you, the clink of glass breaking the lingering silence.
the night wraps around you both, heavy with unspoken feelings, and you can’t help but smile, feeling a mix of gratitude and something more profound. the compliment hangs in the air, resonating within you, and you find yourself wanting to hold onto this moment a little longer. you turn your head slightly, catching his gaze once more, feeling the spark between you intensify as you savor the warmth of his presence and undeniable desire.
as you sit there, the night seems to hold its breath around you, the forest going still as if sensing the delicate moment between you. choso’s warm breath dances across your neck, carrying the faint scent of wine and a subtle note of something more intimate. the warmth radiating from his proximity mixes with the slight chill of night, creating a heady, intoxicating tension that sets your senses ablaze.
without thinking, you shift a little closer, the heat of his body seeping into yours, and your thigh presses more firmly against his. the wine in your veins gives you courage, or perhaps it’s something more raw and real, pushing away inhibitions and doubts. the proximity is exhilarating, making your heart race and your head spin in the best possible way. the air between you seems charged with energy, heavy with unsaid words and unspoken longings. you look up, meeting choso’s gaze, and in his eyes, you see a reflection of what you both feel, the unspoken desire mirrored back at you in his steady gaze.
for a fleeting moment, time stands still, the boundaries of your world shrinking until it’s just the two of you under the vast expanse of the starlit sky.
without breaking eye contact, choso moves slowly, deliberately, as he places his hand on your thigh. his palm, cool against your bare skin, sends an unexpected thrill coursing through you, a contrast to the warm, gentle night air. the sensation is both electrifying and soothing, grounding you in the moment as his touch lingers.
you can see the thoughtfulness in his eyes, the way he’s absorbing every detail of this intimate exchange. his fingers rest lightly on your thigh, a subtle weight that feels both protective and intimate. the world around you fades into a soft blur, the sounds of the night growing distant as all your focus narrows on the connection you share in this fleeting moment.
his gaze holds yours captive, revealing the depths of his emotions, and you can sense the vulnerability in him, the way he’s opening up to you without fear. the air crackles with unspoken words, and you find yourself leaning into the touch, drawn closer by the warmth radiating from him and the electric pull between you.
choso’s hand on your thigh feels like a cool brand against your bare skin, his touch both grounding and electrifying. his eyes, focused on yours, seem to be reading your every thought, your every emotion. the moment between you feels suspended in time, as if the rest of the world has faded away and it’s just the two of you, here in the quiet of the night.
his voice, low and deep, cuts through the silence, a husky whisper that holds a world of emotions. “can i...” he pauses, his gaze flicking down to your lips before returning to your eyes, “...kiss you?”
you breath caught in your throat as choso’s words hung in the air, a whispered admission of longing that was both vulnerable and intoxicating. the gentle pressure of his hand on your thigh only heightened the moment. your heart raced with anticipation as you found yourself lost in the intimate warmth of his gaze, the words unspoken yet speaking volumes. in that moment, you were acutely aware of everything— the touch of him, the night breeze, the rhythm of your shared breath.
you answered not with words, but with a nod, a silent agreement that the space between you was no longer a division, but an invitation. the quiet acceptance in your nod seemed to ignite something in choso. his gaze darkened with a smolder that sent a shiver racing down your spine. slowly, almost hesitantly, he leaned in, his grip on your thigh tightening slightly as if in silent reassurance.
as he closed the distance between you, his breath mingled with yours, a shared heat in the cool night air. the anticipation was palpable, a tension that electrified the air between you. finally, his lips brushed against yours, a soft whisper of a touch that sent a jolt of electricity through you.
the kiss began as a gentle exploration—a soft press of lips against lips. choso’s hand on your thigh felt steadying, anchoring you to the moment. slowly, the kiss deepened, his lips moving against yours with a growing intensity. his other hand reached up to cradle your cheek, his thumb tracing the contours of your face as if trying to memorize the way your skin felt beneath his touch. there was an almost feverish hunger in his kiss, as though he’d been waiting for this moment for eternity, and now that it was here, he couldn’t get enough of it.
choso pulls away from the kiss, his lips hovering just a breath away from yours as he gently places his hands on your hips. his touch is firm yet tender, and with a quiet strength, he lifts you effortlessly, guiding you to straddle his lap. the shift leaves you breathless, a soft gasp escaping as his hands settle on your hips, grounding you in his embrace.
your skirt rises slightly with the movement, the cool night air brushing against your thighs, adding a new layer of exhilaration to the moment. his gaze locks onto yours, eyes dark and intense, searching your face as though committing every detail to memory. there’s a softness in his expression, a quiet reverence that makes your heart race, and you feel yourself melting further into his hold, wrapped in the intimacy of his touch and the silent promise lingering between you.
as you settled onto his lap, your knees framing his hips, it felt as if the world had narrowed down to this single moment. choso’s hands anchored you in place, his touch both possessive and comforting. you could feel the hard contours of his thighs beneath you, the warmth of his body seeping into your core. your hands came up to rest on his shoulders, fingers tracing the outline of his muscles, feeling his strength and his warmth.
his lips returned to yours, his kiss more insistent this time. his hands on your hips pulled you closer, making you keenly aware of every breath, every heartbeat. this time, the kiss was filled with a deeper hunger, a need that seemed to transcend the physical. choso’s tongue flicked against yours, a gentle tease that ignited a fire in your core. his hands began to explore you, tracing a trail from your hips to your back, pulling you impossibly closer against him. the heat between you was growing, becoming almost unbearable, and yet you wanted more.
choso’s lips left yours and began to move down your neck, each press of his mouth against your skin sending another shockwave of sensation through you. his breath was hot, his hands restless, and it felt like the world around you had ceased to exist, leaving only the two of you locked in an intimate dance of discovery.
your head fell back, giving choso better access to the curve of your neck, and your fingers tangled in his hair. you wanted to lose yourself in this moment, to drown in the sensation of his touch, his nearness, his every breath. choso’s lips, moving lower now, found the sensitive spot at the base of your throat, and you let out a soft moan, the sound swallowed by the night air.
“choso...” a soft, breathless whisper of his name escapes your lips, almost instinctively, as choso’s mouth trails down your throat. the sound of it, murmured in the night air, seems to urge him on, his grip on you tightening just enough to make you shiver. with your head tilted back, eyes closed, you’re completely lost in the sensation, the gentle brush of your eyelashes against your cheeks a subtle reflection of how fully immersed you are in the moment.
his lips press against your skin with a hunger that’s tempered by tenderness, each kiss sending a spark through you, igniting a warmth that spreads from your core to the very tips of of your fingers. your hands find their way into his hair once again, threading through the dark strands as you pull him closer, feeling his breath hot against your skin. every touch, every movement feels as though it’s deepening the connection between you.
choso’s response to your breathy whisper of his name was immediate. his hands tightened on your hips, grounding you against him as his lips continued their trail down your neck. he paused at your collarbone, his breath hot against your skin as he lingered there for a moment, drinking in the sensation of your hands in his hair and the sound of your soft sighs.
as his mouth continued its journey, he found the sensitive hollow at the base of your throat, and he lingered there, drawing out the sensation further. each gentle press of his lips felt like a match to a flame, sending waves of heat and pleasure coursing through you.
you could feel the taut line of his body beneath you, the way his muscles tensed and released with every movement, each movement drawing you closer into his orbit. your fingers twined in his hair, and you felt his touch moving lower, tracing the soft curve of your throat, then the exposed plane of your chest, just above the low neckline of your top. the contrast between the cool night air and the warmth of his mouth was intoxicating, and you found yourself willingly surrendering to the sensations.
as choso’s lips explored your sensitive skin, you couldn’t help but arch into him, craving more of that intoxicating touch. his hands gripped your hips firmly, holding you securely in place as if to anchor you amidst the swirling desires he was awakening within you.
you let out a soft gasp when his mouth moved lower, his warm breath fanning over your breasts before his lips made contact with the tender flesh above your top. your nipples hardened instantly, straining against the fabric as if begging for his attention.
“choso,” you breathed his name once again, your voice husky with need. your plea trailed off into a moan as he continued to lavish attention on your chest, his tongue darting out to taste the skin, leaving a tingling path in its wake. the sensation was both electrifying and soothing, sending jolts of pleasure straight to you core, unconsciously your hips began to moving on top of him.
his name on your lips, spoken so breathlessly, sent a renewed wave of desire coursing through choso. he responded to your soft moans and shivers with a gentle nip to your skin, causing your body to tremble under his touch. feeling your hips move in response to his caresses, a low growl stirred in his throat.
his hands moved to the hem of your top, his fingers sliding beneath the edge. the gentle touch against the sensitive skin of your sides made you shiver, your body responding to each sensation with a subtle arching movement, seeking more of his touch.
your body was alight with anticipation, every nerve ending attuned to choso’s touch. as his fingers slipped beneath your top, brushing against the bare skin of your waist, you couldn’t suppress the shudder that ran through you. the sensation was electric, igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume you whole.
you arched into his touch once more, silently pleading for more— it’s like a game, you arched and pulled away, and arched and pulled away. your hands roamed over his muscular arms, feeling the strength coiled within them. the heat radiating from his body enveloped you, making you feel safe and desired all at once.
“please,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. “ want... i need...” your words trailed off into a moan as his fingers traced patterns on your skin, each touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. in that moment, lost in the haze of desire, nothing else mattered. your hips began to move more bold than before the moment you feel his hardness pressed against your core.
choso’s hands on your skin, tracing patterns of fire across your body, felt like a match to a gasoline-drenched inferno. it was almost sinful, the effect he had on you, the way your body reacted to his touch as if it was the first time you were feeling anything akin to desire. your body seemed to respond instinctively, arching towards him, pressing your softness against his hardness in a desperate plea.
the sound of your pleading whimper only seemed to fuel his desire further.
choso’s grip on your hips tightened, a raw hunger in his touch as your body moved against him, seeking friction in the growing tension between you. he pulled you closer, his lips finding the sensitive skin of your neck once more, as his hands moved up your sides to the edge of your top. his thumbs brushed the underside of your breasts, setting your nerves alight with a burning need. a low breath escaped him, a sound filled with both restraint and desire, and when he spoke, his voice was low and rough.
“need...” his fingers traced the curve of your ribcage, his touch both gentle and urgent “... you,” the last word fell from his lips like a plea, a whispered admission of a need as raw and urgent as the one he’d been stoking within you.
the fire in his eyes, his hands tracing a path of heat across your skin, all of it was making it hard for you to speak, to think... to do anything but feel. with a soft whine, your head tipped back, exposing your neck to him in an unspoken affirmation. he groaned at the gesture, the sound more animal than anything else, as if he was losing the fight to hold back.
your body was aflame with desire, every inch of your skin crying out for his touch. the sound of his voice, low and rough with need, sent shivers racing down your spine. his hands on your body felt like a brand, marking you as his own. your breath came in short, sharp gasps as his fingers danced along the edge of your top, teasing you with the promise of what was to come.
when his thumbs brushed the underside of your breasts, you let out a soft cry, your body arching into his touch. the sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pain that left you dizzy with want. you could feel the heat building inside you, coiling tighter and tighter until you thought you might burst from the pressure.
your hands fisted in his hair, tugging gently as you guided his mouth back to yours, along with your hips start moving more purposefully against his clothed hardened cock, putting more pressure. the friction sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your veins.
choso’s control snapped at the feeling of your hands in his hair, guiding his mouth to yours in a demand that left no room for argument. his lips crashed against yours in a fierce kiss, all teeth and tongue as he devoured the sweetness of your mouth. the taste of you was addictive, and he drank it in greedily, his hands roaming your body with a desperation that bordered on frantic.
he groaned into the kiss as you ground your hips against his, the pressure of your core against his hardness nearly unbearable. his own arousal throbbed in response, straining against the confines of his pants. the urge to tear away your clothes, to claim you fully, was almost overwhelming.
breaking the kiss, choso’s gaze locked onto yours, dark with lust and something deeper, more primal. “good... just like that,” he whispered.
your mind went blank at the intensity of his kiss, overwhelmed by the sheer force of his desire. his hands on your body felt possessive, claiming, and you reveled in the feeling of being owned by him in this moment. the scrape of his teeth against your lips sent a thrill through you, and you met his tongue with equal fervor, lost in the taste and scent of him.
your body was consumed by a raging fire of desire, every fiber of your being screaming for more of his touch. the heat between your legs was becoming unbearable, your core aching for relief. you needed him, needed to feel him inside you, filling you completely.
with trembling hands, you reached for the button of your top, undone few buttons. your breasts spilled free, the cool night air a stark contrast to the feverish heat of your skin. you watched as his gaze raked over your naked torso, his pupils dilating with undisguised hunger.
“touch me,” you pleaded, your voice hoarse with need. “i want to feel your hands on my skin.” your hips continued to grind against him, seeking relief from the ache building between your thighs. the pressure of his hardness against you was exquisite, and you found yourself wanting more, needing to feel him inside you.
his gaze darkened, his eyes darkening to a nearly black that mirrored the storm of raw desire that raged within him. the words that fell from your lips only added fuel to the fire, stoking the flames of his hunger until they burned with an almost feverish intensity. it was a plea he couldn’t ignore, a demand that sparked something primal and visceral within him.
choso’s hands went to your exposed breasts, cupping the soft mounds with reverence. he marveled at their weight, at the way they fit perfectly in his palms. his thumbs brushed over your nipples, coaxing them to peak under his touch. the sight of your hardened buds drew a low growl from deep within his chest.
“beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “so perfect.“
leaning in, he captured a nipple between his lips, sucking gently before grazing the sensitive bud with his teeth. the sensation shot straight to your core, making you gasp and arch into him. his other hand slid around to palm your ass, squeezing the firm flesh as he continued to lavish attention on your breast.
a high-pitched moan tore from your throat as his lips closed around your nipple, the sensation of his warm mouth and the gentle tug of his suction sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. your back arched, pushing your breast further into his mouth as you threaded your fingers through his hair, holding him close.
the combination of his hot mouth on your skin and the firm press of his erection against you was driving you wild. his hands found your hips, guiding your movements against him. the pressure, the friction, it was all so deliciously intoxicating that he knew he wouldn’t last much longer.
the scrape of his teeth against your sensitive flesh made you buck against him, craving more of that delicious friction. your hips rolled in a slow, deliberate rhythm, grinding your aching core against the hard length of his clothed bulge. the pressure was exquisite, a sweet agony that left you panting and needy.
“good,” you whimpered, your voice a ragged plea. “choso... feel so good..” his hands on your ass squeezed harder, pulling you flush against him as he nipped and sucked at your breast.
choso’s control slipped further with each passing second, his desire for you consuming him entirely. the sounds falling from your lips were music to his ears, urging him on, driving him mad with want. his hands gripped your hips tightly, fingers digging into your flesh as he held you still, rocking against you with a frenzied pace.
his mouth left your breast with a wet pop, trailing kisses up the column of your throat until he reached your ear. “just like that baby, just like that,” he growled, his voice low and rough with barely restrained passion. “mmm, good girl— ugh, good fucking girl,” he grunt, the sound rumble in his chest as he pressed your hips down harder against him.
he punctuated his words with a particularly forceful thrust, grinding his hardness against your aching center. the thin fabric separating you was the only barrier left, and it was quickly becoming too much to bear.
your head lolled back, exposing the vulnerable line of your throat to his hungry mouth. each word he spoke, each praise, each filthy promise, sent another wave of desire crashing over you, drowning you in a sea of pure, unadulterated lust. you could feel the evidence of his arousal pressing insistently against you, the heat of it searing your skin even through the layers of clothing.
“chosooo,” you gasped, the single word a desperate plea. your hands scrabbled at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you clung to him, anchoring yourself amidst the maelstrom of sensations.
your hips bucked wildly, seeking more of that delicious friction, more of the promise of satisfaction. the ache between your thighs was growing unbearable, a pulsing emptiness that demanded to be filled.
his lips found yours in a heated kiss, swallowing your whimpers and moans, his passion meeting your own with a frenzy and intensity that left you breathless. his tongue tangled with yours, the taste of him filling your senses, adding to the dizzying spiral of sensations.
his restraint was hanging by a thread, his own breathing ragged and uneven against your lips. he groaned, deep and guttural, when you whimpered his name, the sound vibrating through his body and setting your nerves ablaze. choso wasn’t just kissing you anymore.
he was claiming you.
you broke away from the kiss to trail your mouth down his neck and across the swell of his throat. your teeth scraped over the sensitive skin, making him gasp, the pain mingling with pleasure. his hands on your hips gripped you tightly, his hold firm but protective, a steady presence that kept you grounded amidst the sea of sensations. your hips start to move faster, pick up the pace on his hardness.
choso’s breath was coming in ragged bursts as your teeth scraped along his neck, pleasure and pain mixing into a heady cocktail that made his blood run hot. choso’s fingers dug deeper into your hips, holding you in place even as you rolled your hips against him more urgently, desperate with want.
“ah, fuuuuck,” he gritted out, his hands almost bruising against your skin. every part of him felt taut, wound so tight that it was like a spring about to snap. the heat between your bodies was overwhelming, and he knew he was close to the edge.
“baby, baby, baby,” he chanted, the endearment spilling from his lips almost involuntarily. he was so lost in the fog of lust that he was barely aware of the words coming out of his mouth, driven by pure instinct and desire. he needed you, craved you with a primal intensity that threatened to consume him from within. “please, please, please,” he repeated, the broken prayer mingling with the sound of your shared breaths.
the pressure between your bodies had built to almost overwhelming levels, the friction and heat stoking a fire that threatened to burn everything in its path. choso’s hands glided over your body, as if trying to memorize every curve and plane, before settling on your hips once again. his grip was fierce, as if he was afraid of letting you go even for a moment.
your body was alight with sensation, every nerve ending singing with pleasure as you moved against him. the heat between your bodies was a living thing, pulsing and throbbing with a life of its own. you could feel the evidence of his desire pressing insistently against you, the hard length of him straining towards you as if seeking entrance.
“yes,” you breathed, the single word a prayer and a promise all at once. your hands roamed over his broad shoulders, tracing the lines of his muscles beneath his shirt. you wanted to feel his bare skin against yours, to have nothing separating you but the air itself.
your hips rolled in a slow, deliberate rhythm, grinding against him with increasing urgency. the friction was exquisite, sending jolts of electricity coursing through your veins with each movement.
choso let out a guttural groan as your hips ground against him, the sensation of your heated flesh sliding against his cock through the clothes nearly undoing him. he could feel the slickness of your arousal coating his clothes length, leaving a stain on his jeans, the proof of how desperately you wanted this, and it only fueled his own hunger.
“fuck, baby, you’re killing me here,” he rasped, his hands sliding down to grasp your ass cheeks, kneading the firm flesh as he pulled you harder against him. the rough fabric of his pants rubbed against your clothed clit with each roll of your hips, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you.
his lips found yours in a bruising kiss once more, tongue delving deep to claim your mouth as his own. the taste of you was intoxicating, and he drank it in greedily, pouring all his pent-up desire into the embrace.
your mouth opened eagerly to receive his invading tongue, the kiss deep and passionate. you could taste the desperation in him, the raw need that matched your own. your hands tangled in his hair, holding him close as you kissed him back with equal fervor.
the pressure of his fingers on your ass sends shivers down your spine, and you ground your hips harder against him, seeking more of that delicious friction. the rasp of his voice in your ear, the feeling of his hardness pressing against you, it was all so intense, so overwhelming that you feared you might combust from the sheer force of your desires. “gonna— cho...” you mumble incoherently on his lips, followed by choso hands guiding your hips faster.
choso could feel you trembling against him, could hear the desperation in your voice, the way it wavered as you breathed his name like a prayer. it only served to add fuel to the fire burning within him. he wanted to consume you, to burn away everything that wasn’t you and him in this moment.
“good girl, good girl,” he murmured, his words a mix of praise and encouragement. the rhythm of your movements had become frantic, wild, each grind of your hips against his causing a fresh wave of pleasure to wash over them both.
“come on baby,” he urges, the words tumbling out of him like gravel. your moans are like music to his ears, a heady symphony that only serves to drive him wilder. his grip on your hips is relentless, holding you against him as if you were the only thing keeping him grounded in reality.
his hand slid under your shirt, palms splaying across your lower back as he pulled you impossibly closer, the heat of his skin seeping into yours.
he rocked his hips in time with yours, the friction building to a fever pitch. the sound of your impending climax was music to his ears, and he reveled in the knowledge that he was the cause of it, that he could reduce you to this state of utter abandon with just his touch.
“that’s it, give it to me,” he urged, his lips finding the shell of your ear once more.
your body was wound tighter than a bowstring, every muscle tensed in anticipation of the release that was hurtling towards you like a freight train. the heat between your legs was almost unbearable, a pulsing ache that demanded to be satisfied.
“cho, ’m gonna... ’m gonna...” you panted, your words dissolving into a moan as you felt the first flutterings of your orgasm approaching. your hips jerked erratically, no longer following any kind of rhythm but simply chasing the pleasure that was so tantalizingly close.
your hands scrabbled at his back, nails digging into his shirt as you clung to him, anchoring yourself amidst the maelstrom of sensations. “don’t stop, don’t you dare stop,” you gasped, the command slipping out unbidden as you rode the crest of the wave that was carrying you higher and higher.
choso can feel your body tensing against him, the way your muscles coil and shudder as you’re close to the edge. he can hear it in the desperate pitch of your voice, the way your words are coming out in broken fragments. he knows you’re close, and he’s not far behind.
his breath is warm against your mouth as he whispers, “don't hold back. come for me, angel. i’ve got you.” his words are a promise, a pledge to catch you as you fall. as you give in to the crescendo of your pleasure, his arms are there, holding you tight.
“fuck yes, come on my cock,” he growled, the words punctuated by the rhythmic thrusts of his hips. he could feel your pussy clenching around nothing, the slick heat of your arousal coating his jeans as you rode out the waves of your climax.
the sight of you, lost in ecstasy, was almost too much for him to bear. he wanted to consume you, to drink in every last drop of pleasure until there was nothing left but the two of you, entwined and spent.
your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, crashing over you with such intensity that it stole your breath and rendered you momentarily speechless. your vision blurred, colors dancing at the edges as pleasure coursed through your veins like liquid fire.
“cho...oh god, cho...” you managed to whimper, your voice barely audible above the thunderous beat of your heart. your inner walls spasmed wildly, milking the air for something they couldn’t possibly find.
through the haze of bliss, you could feel choso’s hardness twitching against you, the heat of his arousal palpable even through the layers of clothing. the thought of him finding his own release sent another shockwave of pleasure rippling through you, prolonging your climax.
choso was hanging on by a thread, his grip on your hips tightening almost painfully as he fought to control himself. he was close, so close he could snap any second.
and second later, choso’s control snapped as he felt your pussy convulsing around nothing more, the rhythmic clenching of your muscles driving him to the brink. the sight of you lost in the throes of ecstasy, your face contorted in rapture, was enough to push him over the edge.
“fuckkkk,” with a low, guttural moan, he came hard, his cock pulsing as it emptied itself inside his pants. “fuck, fuck, fuck.” hot spurts of semen coated his baggy jeans, leaving a damp stain, each one a testament to the intensity of his climax.
for a moment, he was frozen, caught in the aftermath of his orgasm. then, slowly, he began to move again, his hips rocking gently as he worked through the last tremors of pleasure. when he finally lifted his head, his eyes were glazed, his chest still heaving with exertion.
as the final aftershocks of your orgasm faded, you slumped bonelessly against choso, utterly spent. your limbs felt heavy, your mind hazy, and you could scarcely believe what had just transpired between you.
a small, dazed smile tugged at the corners of your mouth as you gazed up at him, taking in the flush on his cheekbones, the glassy look in his eyes. he looked thoroughly debauched, and the knowledge that you’d been the one to reduce him to this state filled you with a sense of feminine satisfaction.
“look at you,” you breathed a chuckle, the word little more than an exhalation.
choso grinned at your comment, a lazy, satisfied smile that mirrored your own. he leaned in, capturing your lips in a soft, unhurried kiss that was a stark contrast to the frenzied passion of moments ago.
“you’re one to talk,” he murmured against your mouth, his lips brushing yours as he spoke, “you should see yourself. all flushed and breathless, like the prettiest thing i ever saw.” his voice was a low velvet rumble, the sound of it a soothing balm to your senses. he wrapped an arm around your waist, his touch gentle and reassuring.
a soft chuckle escapes you, a sound woven with warmth and lingering affection as you press your forehead to his, eyes meeting in the quiet intimacy between you. “we’re a mess,” you murmur with a smile, your voice light but full of meaning. your hands find the buttons of your shirt, fingers fumbling slightly as you begin to put yourself back together, still feeling the afterglow of his words and the tender intensity of his gaze.
choso’s grin widens at your comment, his hand resting gently at your waist, thumb tracing slow, reassuring circles. there’s a comfortable silence as you both catch your breath, his presence grounding you, his quiet laughter blending with yours in the stillness of the night. his eyes don’t leave your face, watching you with a softness that only makes your heart beat faster, as if savoring every little detail of this moment shared.
choso watched you as you righted yourself, his gaze warm and affectionate. his fingers reached up, idly plucking at the fabric of your shirt. he watched the way the material fell back into place, hiding your delicate curves once again.
he couldn’t help but chuckle softly. “you’re still clean, angel. i almost wish i’d made even more of a mess. almost,” his voice was teasing, his lips curving into a playful grin. the air is rife with the unspoken words dancing on the edge of the moment, the warmth and comfort wrapping around you like a cocoon.
he doesn’t press the issue though, not wanting to force anything that could shatter the fragile intimacy between you. instead, he just watches you, eyes warm and full of unspoken emotion.
“but next time,“ he adds, finally breaking the silence, “next time, i’ll have to make sure to have a change of pants.” his tone is light, a teasing lilt to it. but there’s a touch of something deeper there, a hint that he’s planning on there being a next time— that this is more than just a passing encounter.
still sitting on his lap, you snort, amused by his comment, and glance down at his jeans, your gaze catching on the unmistakable stain left by your recent intimacy. a smirk plays at the corners of your lips as you meet his eyes again, a mischievous glint in your own. “or maybe next time,” you murmur, voice dropping to a teasing lilt, “we should find somewhere a little more... private. so we can do it without the clothes.”
your words linger in the air, charged with suggestion, and you watch as his playful grin deepens, the warmth in his gaze intensifying with a glimmer of anticipation. he raises an eyebrow, clearly entertained by your boldness, his fingers tracing idle patterns along your side as he chuckles. “now that,” he says, voice low and dripping with promise, leaning closer to give you a peck on the lips before pulling away just a beat, “sounds like a plan, angel.”
there’s a shared spark between you, a silent agreement that this moment isn’t just a fleeting encounter but the start of something deeper, something you both want to explore. as the night stretches on, you feel the anticipation settling warmly in your chest, knowing there will be a “next time”— and plenty more after that.
a comfortable pause falls between you, the moment stretching as your eyes meet and hold, speaking volumes without words. the connection between you in that moment is more than just physical— it’s a quiet, wordless exchange of emotions and unspoken promises.
choso is first to break the silence, his lips curving into a playful grin. “as much as i’d love to continue this... we probably shouldn’t push our luck anymore tonight. it’s getting late.” he glances around, noting the empty woods, the deserted empty space beyond..
a soft chuckle escapes you, and with a reluctant sigh, you whisper, “yeah, probably best not to risk it.” carefully, you ease yourself off his lap, feeling the lingering warmth of his presence as you stand. straightening your skirt and adjusting your shirt, you do your best to smooth out any signs of the recent intimacy, fingers running through your hair in a quick attempt to tame it.
choso watches you with a hint of amusement, his eyes gleaming with that familiar warmth as he rises beside you, brushing himself off. “not bad,” he murmurs, a low, teasing note in his voice as he observes your subtle efforts to look composed. he reaches over, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle and lingering for just a moment longer than necessary.
choso flashes you a playful smile as you try to right your appearance, his eyes dancing with amusement at your efforts to look respectable despite the rumpled state of your clothing. his warm gaze follows your every movement, drinking in the sight of you, and he takes a moment to compose himself as well, fixing his clothes and running a hand through his hair.
as you both finally look presentable, he turns towards you, his eyes softening as he watches you. “we should probably get going,”he says quietly, his voice low and soft. “it’s late, and i don’t want you to get in trouble.”
as you begin the quiet walk back from the woods to the school grounds, choso’s hand slips into yours, his fingers curling around yours with a gentle but sure grip. the warmth of his touch anchors you, his presence at your side feeling both natural and reassuring, like something that’s always been meant to be.
the path is cloaked in the soft shadows of the night, the faint glow of the moon casting a silvery hue over everything. neither of you feel the need to speak; instead, you let the comforting silence stretch between you, punctuated only by the quiet sounds of your footsteps against the earth.
every so often, choso’s thumb brushes over the back of your hand, a small but tender gesture that sends a gentle warmth through you. it’s a simple moment, yet there’s a profound intimacy in it—one that fills you with a sense of peace and connection. you glance over at him, catching the soft profile of his face in the moonlight, and he meets your gaze with a quiet smile, his eyes reflecting that same warmth and promise you felt earlier.
as you near the edge of the woods, the school grounds coming into view, you realize just how deeply this night has shifted something between you two. his hand in yours feels like an unspoken vow, a shared understanding that this connection isn’t just a fleeting spark—it’s something real, something you both want to hold on to.
as you step onto the training ground, the familiar silhouette of gojo comes into view, standing with his typical air of arrogance. his face wears that infuriatingly smug grin, and even with his glasses on, you know he’s watching. just to prove it, he lowers them slightly, giving you and choso a pointed look—specifically at your intertwined hands.
in a swift, reflexive motion, you pull your hand from choso’s, earning a puzzled glance from him. but as his gaze shifts toward gojo, realization dawns in his eyes, and he lets out a silent sigh, his expression settling into understanding.
internally, you curse. gojo’s big mouth is notorious; you know he’ll never let you live this down. as his former classmate, you’re all too familiar with how relentless and obnoxious he can be. memories of his constant teasing, his maddening habit of prying into everyone’s business, flood your mind, and the thought of dealing with his smug remarks makes you groan.
“he’s absolute menace,” you mutter under your breath, sending a half-hearted glare in gojo’s direction. beside you, choso stifles a quiet chuckle, clearly amused by your reaction.
as you approach, gojo stands there, hands buried in his pockets, his smile only widening as you near. you brace yourself, fully aware that the barrage of taunting remarks is about to begin, but also knowing that having choso by your side makes facing gojo’s antics a little more bearable.
gojo stands there, a grin plastered across his face as he takes in the sight before him. “well, well, well,” he drawls, that maddeningly smug tone in his voice that you know so well. “what do we have here? a little late night stroll through the woods, hmm?” his eyes flick between the two of you, one eyebrow raised in a mix of amusement and curiosity.
you roll your eyes, already fed up with gojo’s smug tone. “can you shut up for once, satoru?” you snap, crossing your arms as you fix him with a glare. “what do you want?”
gojo just chuckles, clearly relishing in your irritation. “oh, don’t get all snippy with me,�� he teases, hands still stuffed casually in his pockets. “just happened to be wandering by, and—what do i see? a little midnight rendezvous.” he raises an eyebrow, his smirk only growing as he glances between you and choso— raising his eyebrows in silence the moment his six eyes catches a white stain on choso’s pants.
“satoru…” you warn, voice low.
he laughs, holding up his hands in a mock surrender. “alright, alright, i’ll behave.” then, his tone shifts slightly, a hint of seriousness beneath the teasing. “the higher-ups need you and me for something. probably some tedious nonsense, but they sounded… insistent.”
you glance at choso, sighing as you straighten up. “great, just what i need,” you mutter, shooting gojo one last glare. “lead the way then, satoru, since you’re so eager to interrupt a nice, peaceful evening.”
gojo only grins wider, turning and beckoning for you to follow, his playful stride a stark contrast to the sense of duty that suddenly weighs on you. choso gives your hand a reassuring squeeze before you let go, his silent understanding grounding you before you walk forward to face whatever awaits.
you glance over your shoulder at choso, finding him watching you with a soft smile, one that lingers in the quiet warmth of his expression. there’s a flicker of reassurance in his gaze, like he’s silently telling you it’ll all be okay. you give a small wave, a gentle gesture just for him, before turning back to follow gojo.
as you walk away, you feel the warmth of choso’s presence still lingering at your back, a quiet comfort that makes you smile to yourself. whatever nonsense awaits with the higher-ups, you know that, at the very least, there’s someone who has your back when you return.
as you walk away with gojo, choso watches your retreating figure, his expression soft with worry. he has a sinking feeling that this sudden summons isn’t going to bode well for you, but he knows he can’t interfere. when your hand slips from his grasp, and he can’t help but feel a tinge of loss, as if a piece of him goes with you on this mysterious mission with gojo. he pushes those worries aside for now, reminding himself that he has to trust in your strength and abilities. you can handle yourself and whatever comes your way.
gojo rolls his eyes at the obvious exchange of glances between you and choso, a look of mock disgust etched on his face. “ugh, seriously? you are like a teenage girl who just learned how to date,” he teases, his tone dripping with sarcasm. the comment makes you cringe, and you can feel your face flush with embarrassment.
without missing a beat, gojo suddenly stops in his tracks and swiftly pulls you into a headlock. you groan in annoyance, struggling to escape his grip as he chuckles at your predicament. “did choso do a good job, huh?” he asks, a playful grin on his face. “maybe next time, you should change before going public with your little romantic escapades!”
your cheeks flush deeply at gojo’s mention, heat creeping up your neck as you suddenly become hyper-aware of the earlier moments shared with choso. your thoughts begin to swirl, drawing your attention to the unmistakable stain on choso’s jeans that had caught your eye earlier.
a wave of realization crashes over you as you wonder if that same stain might have transferred to your skirt. the idea makes your heart race, and you subtly shift your position, trying to assess the damage without drawing attention.
gojo, ever observant, notices your fidgeting and raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “what’s the matter? you look like you’ve seen a ghost!” he teases, and you can’t help but curse internally.
you huff indignantly, pushing against his arm while trying to mask the smile threatening to break through. “you’re such a jerk, satoru!” you protest, though a small part of you appreciates his relentless teasing. despite the annoyance, you can’t deny the warmth that bubbles up inside you from the earlier moments with choso.
gojo’s grin widens as he sees the flush spread across your cheeks, enjoying the reaction he’s elicited. “aww, look at you, all flustered. that’s what friends are for, right? to tease you when you do something so incredibly naive.” he teases, releasing your headlock but keeping a friendly arm wrapped around your shoulder as you walk.
you huff in annoyance, nudging his chest with your elbow as you cross your arms defiantly. “you are so fucking annoying, you know that?” you retort, shooting him a playful glare. despite your irritation, you can’t help but crack a small smile, knowing that deep down, his teasing comes from a place of genuine friendship. it’s just typical gojo, always pushing your buttons, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.
you look over your shoulder one last time to catch a glimpse of choso, who is standing a few steps behind you with a soft smile on his face. warmth spreads through you at the sight, the memory of your shared moment still lingering in the air. his gaze holds a hint of something deeper, an unspoken connection that makes your heart flutter.
as you and gojo turn the corner, you can’t help but feel a sense of excitement mixed with anticipation. the night air feels charged, and despite gojo’s teasing, you can’t shake the feeling that this is just the beginning of something special with choso.
gojo notices the way you glance back, and he quirks an eyebrow, “oh, is our little curse friend back there making your heart race? that’s cute." his teasing tone is laced with a hint of amusement, his eyes sparkling with mischief
“you know, i can practically see the little hearts in your eyes. someone has a crush.” his words are casual, but you catch a glimmer of something else in his expression— he’s not just teasing; he’s genuinely happy for you.
your cheeks flare with embarrassment as gojo’s words hit home. part of you wants to roll your eyes and dismiss him entirely, but there’s something in his tone that makes you pause. “okay, maybe,” you mutter softly, “but don’t you dare start making a big deal out of it, satoru. this is supposed to be a secret, remember?” you shoot him a warning glare, hoping to stave off the barrage of future teasing.
gojo grins widely, feigning innocence, “me? make a big deal out of something? nahhh, that’s not my style.” he gives a casual shrug, leaning in with a sly whisper. “but between you and me, i might just have to give choso the ‘big brother talk’ to make sure he treats you right. you know, threaten him with a little bit of my infamous gojo charm.” the playful glint in his eyes suggests this is just another layer of his teasing.
you snort, rolling your eyes but unable to suppress the smile tugging at your lips. “you’re so stupid, satoru,” you say, shaking your head in mock disbelief. his antics always manage to get under your skin, but you can’t help but find his protective nature endearing, even if he goes about it in the most ridiculous way possible.
gojo lets out a hearty laugh, his grin widening. “hey, it’s my duty as your friend to make sure you’re treated right. and also my duty to annoy the living daylights out of you. two birds, one stone!” he playfully ruffles your hair, causing you to swat his hand away with a playful glare. as you both continue walking, a comfortable banter flows between you, with gojo throwing in a few more teasing remarks about choso and your newfound romance.
your mind keeps drifting back to the moments you and choso shared in the classroom, especially the memory of his lips and the lingering warmth that had engulfed you. you’re almost consumed by the image when gojo’s voice breaks into your thoughts.
“alright, lovebird, i’ve had enough of this smitten daydreaming.” he shoots you another teasing grin, his playful tone making his words less serious. “time to snap out of it. we have a meeting to attend and you need to focus. save your romantic musings for later.”
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notebooks-and-laptops · 3 months ago
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God I think sten in the fade might be the most heartbreaking one. Yes, Morrigan straight up can't believe her mother would ever care for her, yes Alistair just wants a family, yes Zev is out there literally getting tortured because that's familiar to him but there's something so subtle about Stens moment that I just love bringing him along.
Because he's...he knows. In a way. He knows exactly what's going on. He's not fooled into thinking this is real like Alistair or Wynne or Leliana or Zev. But equally he's not arguing his way out like Morrigan. When you talk to him he knows who you are, and why you're there, wants to make room for you at the fire.
Sten is... reminiscing. He's with these men who he knew who died and whose death signalled the end of his last true connection with home (both because of their deaths and because of the loss of his sword). He even says that the fade is no different from being in Orlais or Ferelden - none of it is home. It's such a stark contrast to Stens usual no nonsense tone and it really cuts to the heart of him and what makes him such a compelling character.
To get him to come with you, you remind him that he made an oath to you or other soldier things. Sten needs that order to be pulled from his memory here.
And it's just...it's heartbreaking. He misses home. He feels he can't go back. He doesn't know what the point is anymore. And it is the warden that quite literally gives him order and the ability to go back after his sword so he can head home. It's connection to people - you the protagonist specifically - that helps Sten move past his grief. And in that way, Sten mirrors Alistair and Oghren but that's a whole other post about themes of loss and grief and moving forward in origins ill make some other time.
(I also like it because it shows that Stens companions were joking about and very un-Sten like. I think there's this idea that flies about that before Bull was introduced, the Qunari were all very serious and stoic people and bull was a retcon in that regard. But we see Stens friends laughing about the lack of good food in Ferelden and making jokes)
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yuvany · 4 months ago
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"MS.UGLY DUCKLING" ft SIM JAKE
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SYNOPSIS : growing up "ugly" was not for the weak. Being absolutely ignored both in and outside of school was not for the weak. No one is ever ugly forever though. Changing schools and meeting new people, but most importantly meeting him might have been the best choice you've ever made in a very, very long time.
CONTENT WARNINGS : angst (with a happy ending) + bullying + insecurities + strangers to friends + friends to lovers + written in second perspective + self deprication + fluff + long + little rushed + partially proofread
ACTORS : ENHYPEN JAKE x FEMALE READER
WORD COUNT : ~ 4k
CHECK BOX !!
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i. "WHY WON'T THEY EVER PLAY WITH ME," you asked your mother after returning home from a long and harsh first day of school. Your hair looked a mess, and dirt was scattered across your clothes, yet your voice sounded like childish innocence and pure wonder. Maybe it was too much for such a young child to realise that her newly made friends maybe weren't actually her friends?
(Read more under the cut)
"I'm sure they didn't mean to?" She replied, her voice sounding soft and vulnurable, feeling like she was responsible for the sorrows and grief that her child had been put through, since she was the one who had bought you into this world. Instead of confronting the problem, she told her child that the world wasn't as evil as it seemed, that thinking on the bright side, or the possibilities, were the correct way to live life.
Eight-year-old girl walked up the stairs with heavy weights glued beneath her feet after dinner was finished. You threw yourself onto your bed that was neatly made in the morning before you went to school happily, just to come home opposite of the way you left. The softness of the pillow and blanket laying on your bed was enough to comfort you as you buried your face deep into it and wrapping the blanket around you tightly. You wished for friends, and you wished to be happy, but most of all, you wanted to be like everybody else.
ii. ONE MORE DAY at school, the daily mistreatment never seeming to come to a halt. You walked through the corridors anxiously holding onto the straps of your backback tightly with your pair of eyes wandering all over the place in case of danger. This was certainly not nessecary for a child your age, but when nobody chooses to help, you've got to start taking care of yourself.
Maybe it was your nerves that made it feel as if everyone's eyes were on you, but their mouths would open to release a fit of laughter that they had held in until specifically you walked past them. You crossed your arms, feeling extra aware of yourself now, guessing that they were laughing and giggling at you, which you didn't appreciate, but you were also too insecure and scared to speak up against them.
You reached your locker, looking forward to being able to collect your throught, away from everyone else, the locker shielding you away from their piercing gazes and judgemental stares and whispers. As you look up from your shoes, you see piles of gum stuck onto your locker, the gum being pressed onto the metal aggressively by the people you wished you didn't see. It was them; the popular girls of the school, and few of many people who seemed to despise you. They saw you standing there, shooting you an all too familiar look before walking away with their hips swaying from side to side dramatically.
You approched your locker to finally see what they were doing up close, "UGLY!" it read. You felt embarrased imagining all the people who passed by and saw this. Did they laugh? Did they feel bad for you? What did they think? You wanted to run away and hide in a deep hole you'd dig up with all the stored up shame inside of you.
iii. "MOM, DO YOU THINK I'M PRETTY?" You asked your mother once more, years after the first, but soon to the recent encounter. "I think you're very pretty." She says, but your gut tells you another story. "Really?" You ask, awaiting her response that takes a long while before she hums lowly. That just confirms it, she wasn't being honest. "Thanks," you say, with no emotion in your tone. She looks away and eats her dinner quietly.
You quickly finish yours, and wash it in the faucet, the soap bubbling up and covering your fingers as you scrub and rub the plate, utensils and glass that you used. After finishing that up, you return to your room, locking it behind you. You hid under the covers for a while until it got too suffocating and warm, leaving you itchy and irriatted before sliding out and standing in front of the mirror. You inspected every inch and detail of your face, feeling not so content with some parts. You sighed at your reflection that looked back at you with tired, red eyes. At just fourteen years old, you began caring about how you looked, and how others precieved you, so you took matters into your own hands. That night, you stayed up all night searching for 'how to be prettier' and scrolled endlessly through social media.
The next day, you had decided to get a new hair cut to maybe fix the way you looked, you knew excatly what you wanted, and how to cut it. Before anyone else woke up, even before the first birds chirped their morning tune, you made your way to the bathroom and grabbed a pair of scissors in your grasp. You carefully cut strand for strand, the same way you remebered how the video showed. "It doesn't look too bad." You think to yourself, and then you hear footsteps outside the door. Your eyes quickly scanned the hair that layed on the tiled floor and faucet, wondering what to do with it.
Too late. The door slowly swung open and in came your mom. She was silent upon seeing the scene, the horror only showing in her eyes. "What happened here?" She asked like a sharp whisper. "I just cut my hair..." You reply equally quiet. You see her shake her head in disappointment, so you turn your head down, looking at all the hair that had been flying everywhere while you had fun cutting your hair, and suddenly you weren't as proud of your hair cut like you were before. "Go get the broom, y/n." You obeyed your mother's order and hurried out of the bathroom feeling tears of embarrassment reaching your eyes.
iv. YOU STARTED WEARING MAKE UP to cover up, but to everyone else, you told them that you wore make up becase you thought it looked pretty. Still, they'd give weird glances toward each others, which you knew was their way of judging you.
Each morning, you woke up early to sit in front of your mirror examining your appearance like you always did. Hoping and praying to somehow change over night, you hated how your features looked together. You opened the drawer of your vanity and picked up sponges and brushes, leaving them aside for later use while you chose the different essintials. You had prepared the whole summer break to look pretty. Every day, you followed a new tutorial, improving as you continued. You did all this to look presentable at school.
You thinly spread the foundation across your face, dabbing the liquid evenly all over as you moved onto the next step. You sat there for a long time, perfecting each detail and mole, brushing your brows and coating your eyelashes with mascara, and lastly smacking your lips together after applying lipstick.
You stood in front of your larger mirror that you had ignored and hidden away since you never wanted to see yourself ever, but now you felt prepared. In your eyes you looked prettier. You wore your hair differently, you had earrings and necklaces, the school uniform from last year looking a lot better than you remembered. The confidence boost put a smile on your face as you made your way downstairs and made yourself breakfast.
In the kitchen, your mum was sipping her coffee calmly, but as she saw you walk in, her eyes widened in shock, but she didn't say anything. "Good morning!" You greeted happily, and she waved her hand slowly, still trying to process what was happening. "You look different." She comments, and you are content with that reply, and answer, "Thank you, mum!" You proceed to eat your breakfast and then made your way to school.
At shcool, you felt everyone's eyes hooked on your face. The corridors got quiet when you walked by, and you heard murmurs and whispers about you, "Is that really y/n?" "No way..." "What happened." You didn't know what context to put it in and just walked with hurry in your steps, wanting to get to your class and focus on your studies.
Lunch also happened to be no different compared to before your make over, the group of three girls made their way to your table, cackling amongst themselves, planning what to do today. You, who already finshed your lunch stood up to walk away, not wanting to have an encounter with them, until one of them, the blonde barbie, knocked into you with her lunch tray, spilling her food and drink all over you. "oops!" he chuckled cheerily, enjoying the laughs and fingers pointed at you from around her in the cafeteria. You angrily stood up and rushed over to the bathroom, feeling embarrassed once again.
v. "I WANT TO CHANGE SCHOOLS." You say to your mother after a long while of thinking, fearing that you might make the wrong decision, but what could possibly go worse than how it already is? Your mother is sneering at you from the side as she puts down the bags of groceries by the sink. She hums, and you wait for her reply, feeling your heart beat through your ribs, beating so hard that you start belive it'd jump out of your body any second. To be fair, you'd rather for that to happen than to be rejected of this preposition. "Are you sure?" She asks with uncertainty in her voice after silence, and you nod your head, "Of course." "Think about it for a little more, and then we can ask your father when he returns home." She says and walks away. How much longer could you ponder it when you're already certain.
You help her organise the groceries, washing them in the sink to sterilise it of bacteria before placing it in either the fridge or freezer and taking your sweet time, not knowing what else to do other than lay in your bed or be on your phone scrolling through social media.
So, that's exactly what you did for the past hour or so after your chores.
Of course it was boring, but you had nothing else to do. Homework was done, your room was clean and you could only wait for dinner with your father. You heard the sound of the stove from your room, and rushed down to help prepare with your mother. You plated the dinner table, helped your mum with the dishes and washed them afterwards, now you waited in your seat for your father to arrive home from work.
You hear the door slide open, the sound of keys jiggling from the entrance. You sit straight in your seat, resembling a meerkat on its legs as you inspect the person who enters the kitchen. Your father walks in with his coat still slung over his shoulders, his briefcase slamming onto the kitchen counter while he sighs. "Hello, dad!" You greet him cheerfully, and he simply nods his head in your direction. Your mum rose from her seat to help him with his jacket and hat, but he just shrugs her off, and you notice both of their irritated moods.
Dinner was quiet - the sound of utenstils hitting each other and then being left on the plates filled the house. "y/n wanted to ask something." Your mum blurts out, wanting something to happen, being too awkward in this stale atmosphere. You see him look at you from the corner of your eye and he clears his thoat. "Really? What is it?" He asks, and you manage to utter the same statement from before. It takes a moment before you get a reply again, but he says, "I'll think about it." You pleaded with both your parents to let you change schools until they finally caved in with an extended sigh.
vi. YOU WALKED INTO THE FULL CLASSROOM feeling everyone's eyes glued on you, the feeling being vagualy familiar yet different. Some leaned over to their friend, whispering something, but as you saw them and they made eye contact with you, you wanted to shove yourself inside a locker. "Everyone, this new student ..." You zoned out her speaking until she placed her palm on your shoulder and asked you to intruduse yourself to everyone. "Hello, I am y/n l/n, and I really hope we can all be friendly," You said, and then walked over to the empty seat that the teacher pointed at.
As you take a seat, you take extra notice of your bench mate. Oh, how beautiful she was, her hair looked neat, her skin looked perfect and her eyes... You finally took a seat and did what everyone else did - copying what the teacher wrote. After class, you observed your schedule, confused by where to go. This school was big, and you were a new student who just joined, there was no way you could ask anyone else for help except the teachers, but the one in you room had already left. The girl from beside you tapped you on the shoulder and you turned your head curiously.
"Do you need any help?" She asked, and you nodded. "Help would be appreciated, thanks."
You spent the day with her, laughing and talking like never before. It was comforting to have someone like her beside you. At the end of school, she walked you outside of school and there you saw a group of other people gathered, and they waved in your direction. You turned to see your newly made friend, Yoona, waving back. Her pace quickened as she rushed over to the group, pulling you along by the sleeve of your uniform when she noticed you standing still.
It was a fairly small gang, but they still stared at you as you arrived. They all greeted each other, hugging and chatting till Yoona introduced you to the rest. Her voice sounding so smooth.
As she spoke, you noticed this guy. His hair was long and swept in waves, his eyes soft and brown filled with warmth and kidness. You learnt that his name was Jake from your friend's introduction. "Y/n, wanna come to karaoke with us?" She asked, and you shook your head. "Sorry Yoona, but I gotta head home now" you say, not wanting to interrupt the harmony established amongst the people. She nodded understandingly and let you go, waving her farewell.
On your way home you realised you had made a new friend. A real one at that, but thoughts of insecurities snaked its way into your mind. What if she was just being kind? To say that this could possibly be one of many occurrence was high, and the possibility that you'd fit in was low.
vii. YOU FOUND YOURSELF IN THE PARK with them. You've come to the realisation that a new start was exactly what you needed. Your feet swung you back and forth on the swing, hearing the laughter of everyone around you and feeling the warmth in your heart expand. You had gotten close to everyone, but Jake seemed to have a special place in your heart for some reason.
"Anyone wanna go to the arcade?" Someone called out, and everyone said yes, including you who never went along with them. On the way there, you walked along side Jake, chatting with him and joking. "So what made you change schools so suddenly." He questioned, and you shook your head with an awkward chuckle, "Nothing, I just wanted to." Jake had this friendly smirk on his face as he nudged his shoulder against yours, "you can't be serious. You probably had a lot of friends there." You had your eyes focused on the road as you tried to comply a decent reply. "I mean-" as you were about to answer, everyone had already arrived at the arcade. You found this to be the perfect escape.
Everyone rushed inside, being bombarded with games and bright lights. Almost immediately, you spotted the claw machines. You eyed it like it was candy. There were many plushies, but you really really wanted the bunny one. Jake who was close by saw the way your eyes lit up and approached you with his hands in his pocket. "If you beat me in any game, I'll get you that plushie." He says, and you turn to look up at, his lips being extremely close to your face. "Are you sure you wanna bet?" You asked and he nodded his head, "Go ahead, choose a game." You pointed at an air hockey board and Jake ushered you over there with his palm resting on your shoulder.
You played a couple of games, and you were determined to win. Jake, not so much. His eyes roamed everywhere except for the hockey puck, his eyes landed on your concentrated face a handful of times, observing your reaction to each goal. You easily won and rushed over to his side, cheering. Your smiles were contagious, and Jake laughed, exposing his pearly teeth. "You wanted that white bunny, right?" He asked, and you nodded. "You could get whichever one, really." He made his way to the machine, you standing beside him. Jake kissed his coin before inerting it into the machine. It took him many tries before he sighed and collected his calm once more. "You don't really need to continue, Jake." You tell him, but she shakes his head and stretches his arms and back. "I'll get it this time. I might need more luck though." You see him point at his cheek with a smug smile. "That's silly." You reply sarcastically and he pleads with you giving you the puppy eyes before caving in. You stand on your toes and quickly peck him on the cheek shyly. Your heart was pounding and you could feel your cheeks turn rosy at the act.
He winks at you once before turning to the machine with one last try. His focus is evident in his fierceful gaze and you also hope for him to win this time, mostly becuase you start to feel bad for all the coins he's lost.
While being consumed by your own thoughts, Jake celebrated his win. He turned around to hand you the bunny, but saw you spacing out. He snapped his fingers in you face and you shook you back into reality. You finally processed the fact that he had won after staring at the plush in his arms. Jake gently hands it to you and you take it with a smile. "Woah! Thank you so much!" You thank him over all the other people's conversations around you two.
The rest of the evening was spent with silent glances that held adoration between the two of you. and eventually, it was time to go home. You all gathered outside the arcade to wave each other off before going their separate ways.
You notice that Jake was taking the same way as you and you stopped in your tracks to let him catch up to you. "Do you also take this way?" You asked him. "Kind of, I actually wanted to walk you home." He rubbed the back of his neck before you two began walking again. "You could've told me before, you almost looked like a creep." Jake chuckled at your remark and said, "I would've, but I guess I got shy." with his thick accent seeping through.
The sound of crickets and owls hooting filled in the silence during the short walk to your front door step. "Thanks for walking me home, Jake." You say as you search for your keys in your purse. He was silent for a while as you unlocked your door. "Y/n, I have something to ask you." You turned to him curiously and arched an eyebrow. He was obviously nervous as you saw him fidgeting with his own fingers and clearing his throat over and over again to muster up the courage to ask,
viii. "WILL YOU GO TO PROM WITH ME, Y/N?" It had totally slipped your mind that prom was soon. You stood there wide eyed at the question. "You're not joking with me right." You wonder if he's pranking you, but he shakes his head. "Why would I joke with a pretty girl like you." His tone sounds genuine, but you still can't shake this feeling of uncertainty. "There's many other people you could've asked, but instead you chose me." The identical feeling of hopelessness returned after finally being chased away. "Becuase I only want you. Y/n, please." It takes a while for you to open your mouth an reply, but you feel the cold sweat coat your hairline and seeing Jake's soft expression was not helping you to calm down.
"I need to think about it, sorry."
You take notice of how Jake's expression turns dark when you shut the door and lock it behind you. You rush up the stairs and sprint into your room, ignoring your mother's calls. The plushy you had gotten from Jake was thrown onto your bed as you hurry to look out the window, observing him walk away from you. To your surprise, you see him look back at your house. Hurriedly, you pull out a diary that you had hidden under your mattress and write about everything, it isn't until after you're done taking notes that you feel bad for Jake. How must he feel?
You take a look at the plush he gifted you, and groan at the dilemma.
ix. THE NEXT DAY at school you searched for Jake everywhere, but you never saw him. Your mood visibly worsened as the day had come to an end without seeing him once. Yoona took notice of this and decided to question you. "Is everything okay?" She asked you and you nodded your head with a hum. "Yoona, have you seen Jake today?" She shakes her head and pulls out her phone. "He sent me a text this morning that he wouldn't come today since he felt under the weather. Why?" "Nothing, just wondering." You quickly blubber, grabbing your stuff quickly. "Hey, what's the rush? Wait for me alright." You hear Yoona chuckle as she packs her stuff. You apologise and wait for her.
You two part ways at the split road with a hug, and you gradually start to jog your way to his place. You stand there on his door step, bag slung over your shoulder with your fingers twisting the hem of your skirt. "Is it too late to turn around?", you think you to yourself. You shake away these thoughts, and raise your curled up fist to knock, but to your surprise, Jake opened the door, his eyes looked equally as shocked as yours. "Uhm, so I wanted to talk to you." You utter, and see Jake sigh. "Sure, I'm going on a walk if you wanna follow along." You nod and walk behind him.
"So, I've been thinking." His interest perks, and he glances your way. "I'll go to prom with you, but I don't understand why me? I'm not pretty. I'm not that ....good." You voice comes out weak, and Jake stops walking. "Don't say that. Not only are you incredibly beautiful, but you're also so, so kind and caring." He approaches you, his hand gliding up your cheek. "Are you not angry at me?" You ask, trying to avoid his eyes. "Angry? At you? That's ridiculous." He scoffs playfully, and you finally get the courage to look him in the eyes. "I might've been slightly upset since I thought you rejected me, but i guess I have a date for prom!" He smiles brightly and you look at him awestruck. "Of course," you reply and kiss him on the cheek once again with your arms swung around his neck, and his arms instinctively wrap around your waist. "You make me so happy." He is smiling widely as he pecks your face with butterfly kisses.
TAGLIST :: @swaivy
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