#angst fic 1000 words :'(

[incorrect-avantris]

Chuckles : I lost my fish, can you help me find it?

Rett, cooking the fish: What? I couldn't hear you, please speak up.

[theautisticfroglord]

Chat

pairing: julius and yami (plat ig)

Word count: little over 1000

Warnings: angst

Notes: my first fic over 1000 words :D (also in the art julius is in luciuss outfit oops

After Lucius is defeated and Julius is brought back, (also he is back to being an adult) everybody is trying to sort out the kingdom rebuilding and helping everybody recover from what has happened. The wizard king and his supervisors released an announcement regarding the incedent that has happened with the kingdom, explaining everything about how Julius wasn’t the enemy, and it was Lucius. Despite all that has happened, Yami still has some business to attend to. He was about to walk out of the Black Bulls base when he hears a voice from behind him.

“W-wait, captain, where are you going?” Asta asks, curious.

“I have someone to talk to, I’ll be back in a while, kid,” Yami explains before stepping out the door and shutting it behind him. He hops on his broom and flies away. He makes his way to Clover Castle, hoping he’ll be able to speak with someone he hasn’t talked to in quite a bit of time. A while later, he lands in the castle town and walks around to see how the town is doing. Some places are still destroyed, and the magic knights are still cleaning up some debri from the ordeal. He makes his way to the entrance of the castle, and someone familiar greets him.

“H-Hello, captain, what have you come here for?” Marx asks Yami, slightly surprised to see him.

“Long time, no see, Marx. I’m here to talk with Julius, is he available right now?” Yami questions, tossing away his cigarette.

“Lord Julius is somewhat busy, but I’m sure he could talk with you. Please come with me, sir.” Marx walks with Yami to Julius’s office. Yami waits a second before he knocks on the door and hears a voice he hasn’t heard in a while.

“Who is it?” Julius asks. Yami opens the door, closes it behind him, and walks up to his desk, and Julius feels nervous because he hasn’t seen Yami in so long.

“I’m here to talk to you about something,” Yami says as Julius lightly fidgets in his chair.

“So…did you know about this other soul in your body?” Yami questions.

“N-no! I didn’t know, I swear. I had this strange feeling that i couldn’t describe… then…” Julius sighs, tilting his head down and feeling remorseful about how he got possessed. Yami could sense by Julius’s ki that he was telling the truth to him.

“Maybe there was a reason why you chose me and William to be your students,” Yami looks up at Julius, thinking about the spade battle and how he and William were captured for the tree of Qliphoth. Yami could sense Julius feeling even sadder about how this devil was inside him and he couldn’t even tell. He could also see it in Julius’s face. Yami continued to question him and talk to him to get more answers about what happened with Lucius.

“Is that the only reason why you chose us? Because of Lucius?” Yami was a little concerned as well.

“No, Yami! I… I saw that you were interesting… I just thought you had potential with your magic…” Julius stands up from his chair.

“Lucius saw potential in us, too…” Yami sighs, looking down at the floor.

“I saw you different! I didn’t want to use you for anything, I just wanted to watch you grow into an amazing magic knight, I…” Julius’s voice started to break, and Yami was surprised.

“I wanted to pick good people with amazing potential… People who wanted equality, because…” Julius thinks about Zara, and tears up a little.

“I want to make this kingdom a place free of discrimination, and that is part of why I chose you…” Julius quickly wipes away a tear, but Yami notices. Julius goes back to his chair and sits back down, still seeming upset. Yami and Julius look at each other for a minute, processing what happened. Yami finally breaks the silence.

“Lucius maybe still influenced you, though,” Yami continues.

“It was mostly me, though! I care about you, Yami, and my feelings haven’t changed about you,” Julius replies. Yami notices Julius now trying not to make eye contact with him.

“I care about you, too, Julius,” Yami remembers the fight with Julius and Patry, and how Julius put his trust in him when he died. Silence fills the room again before Julius speaks.

“Should I even be the wizard king anymore?” Julius asks. Yami had no idea what to say to that question for a second.

“You seem worthy. You’re strong, you have a pretty good goal-” Yami starts but Julius interrupts him.

“I was possessed, and I have committed horrible crimes. I am no longer worthy of this position,” Julius sighs remorsefully, standing up from his chair again.

“Remember what you said to William and the other captains? You’d have to punish the other people that were possessed, and that would be a lot. Plus, it wasn’t even your fault, another soul took over your body,” Yami exclaimed, putting his hands on Julius’s desk.

“If you give Goldie a pass because he was possessed, than you get a pass too! Also, we all trust you now, and we all know it wasn’t you! We all knew you couldn’t have done it, Julius!” Julius looks down at the floor, feeling ashamed for saying such things.

“Yami, I-” Julius starts but Yami continues talking to him, trying to convince him.

“And don’t forget me, I couldn’t stop Lucius from running off after he hurt the kid, don’t you think i’m responsible for that? Also, you’re doing everything you can to solve this issue with the kingdom, and you’re handling it just how a king should handle it!” Yami kept referencing what Julius said to William.

“Besides, didn’t you say your feelings about me and Goldie haven’t changed? You still have your heart in the right place, and you can prove that to the rest of this kingdom.” Yami reaches out his hand to Julius.

“Come on, lets go out together. It’s been a while since we’ve talked.” Yami offers him. Julius gasps and he doesn’t notice the tears welling up in his eyes. Tears start streaming down his cheeks as he begins to sob.

“Ya…mi…” Julius whimpers as he stands up, walks around his desk, and hugs Yami. He holds julius in his arms as he cries.

“Let’s prove you right, together.”

[sincerelyneo]

hiiii will you repost your old haechan frat boy fic 🫣

i'm not sure if this is the one you were talking about, but it's the only google doc i had of haechan in a college au.

all bark no bite | l.hc

❯ summary: Lee Haechan is the most annoying man you’ve ever encountered. But that doesn’t mean you don’t find him hot; and maybe that’s why he has you flat on his mattress one night at a random frat party.

❯ pairings: haechan x fem!reader

❯ genre: college!au, rivals, smut.

❯ words: 2.5k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, smut, angst, hate sex, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it up !), pet names, excessive use of the name ‘baby’ and ‘princess’, begging, dirty talk, reader uses she/her pronouns, haechan is very cocky, haechan 1000% has a crush on the reader.

Lee Haechan is an asshole. A condescending, irritating asshole who knows exactly how to get on your fucking nerves and—

“God — fucking — dammit—!”

— is currently the asshole pressing you against his mattress.

Truth be told, you don’t even know how you got here. You remember being shoved in a closet with him for Seven Minutes in Heaven at some random frat party his friends were throwing, but you for sure as hell remember absolutely refusing to kiss him.

“Why not?” He’d sneered, folding his arms. “You scared you’re gonna like it, Princess? Promise I’ll take real good care of you–"

"Oh, please,” you’d scoffed right back. “Let’s not pretend you know your way around a girl’s body, Hyuck. I doubt you could even find my clit–"

"I would obliterate your pussy if you’d let me, and you know it,” there was a glint in his eye as he looked you up and down, “And we both know you’d like it.”

You were so fired up that you hadn’t even noticed how close you’d gotten to each other; you could feel his breath on your lips, his chest against yours. So irritated by his cockiness, you hardly even registered what you said next until it was too late:

“You’re all bark no bite, Lee Haechan.”

For the last three years you’ve been at college, you and Haechan had both been walking on eggshells around each other. There’d always been tangible tension ever since you had shut down one of his rants in class and essentially destroyed him — and from there it’d been a competition to one-up one another. You hated him, he hated you… but doesn’t the line between hate and lust wear oh so thin when it’s someone as hot as him?

The answer is yes, evidently.

After the seven minutes we’re up, Haechan wastes no time dragging you out of the closet and to his bedroom, earning him a matter of gasps and ‘ooohhhs’ from the rest of the players.

Next thing you know, you’re lying on your stomach, hands pinned at the small of your back as he thrusts into you so deeply you swear you can feel him in your stomach. His sheets rub against your clit with every body-wrecking slap of his hips against you, your throat hoarse from screaming. And for a moment you’re really, really, really fucking sorry for even doubting his abilities so much — because God can he fuck.

But you’d never tell him that, you don’t need to. His ego is already massive, he’ll live without validation from you — or so you think.

A hand crowds underneath you, before seizing your neck and pulling you up. The shortness of breath makes you pant, pulsing around him instinctively and you hear him laugh in your ear.

Fucking asshole.

And as if he hears you, his fingers find your mouth — and you gag, because his fingers are fucking thick and he’s shoving them down your throat. And the worst part is you love it, your mouth swallowing them the minute they push past your lips like it was just instinct.

"Oh, baby,” he laughs breathlessly, “Next time you do that, make sure it’s on my dick."

"You fucking wish—” you grunt, because he’s laying into you real deep now, slow, languid thrusts that have you refraining from shuddering all over– “as if there’s going to be a next time, you dick."

"Oh?” his hips still.

Then, almost thoughtfully, they begin again. Slow and teasing and not nearly enough to have you writhing in pleasure. His pace is tortuous, and if he didn’t have your arms pinned behind you, you’d claw at his back to make him speed up.

“Really? You think one night of the best sex you’ll ever have is enough?"

"Please, your dick game isn’t that impressive,” you say flatly. “Just make me cum and get this over with.”

You feel the heat of his breath as he dips his head again, placing kisses on your jaw so gently that for a moment you’re taken aback. “Don’t get impatient now, baby. I told you I’d take care of you didn’t I? Just…” His hips still again– “I think I’d like you to ask for it.”

“Ask?” You scoff, incredulous.

He nibbles down on your ear, before brushing past it with his lips low enough to whisper, “You're right. I meant beg.”

“What, you get off on girls begging for your permission–?"

There’s a rough snap of his hips into you and you have to bite hard down on your lip to stop yourself from whimpering.

"Not just any girls,” he mutters, so quiet that you almost don’t hear. “Only you.”

You’re going to pretend that your heart doesn’t flip when he says that, partially because of how sick it is that that gets you off, and instead focus on what the fuck is going on.

Did Lee Haechan just admit he wants you to beg for him? The same man who’d made it his college mission to torment and tease you at every given opportunity wants you.

If you weren’t lying on your stomach and taking every thick inch of him you’d be running in shock horror. But you find the idea isn’t quite as horrifying as you’d imagined.

“… Maybe we can fit more than one round in tonight, but that’s all I can offer you,” you say after a moment. You can feel him freeze up behind you. “I’m a busy girl with exams, Hyuck, I don’t have time to be running around with strange men–”

“Strange men?” His laugh is really nice. Sweet and dorky — the opposite of the usual mischievous chuckling he did when he knew he had gotten under your skin — and you only manage a huff of your own laughter yourself before you’re caught off guard by his steadily increasing grinds. “And after those exams? Got any time for a strange man like me?"

“…I’d have to check my calendar.”

He hums, and you swear to God if he stops again you’ll take back everything. "But for now… What’s your calendar open to, baby? Three? Four rounds?”

“Bold of you to assume you’ll get me to cum more than once,” you mumble, but you’re beginning to lose your breath as he picks up the pace once again. “I’ll warn you, though – I get loud after two.”

You don’t have to look back to know he’s sporting a smug as fuck grin. “You better muffle yourself with a pillow then, because I’m not stopping.”

“You’re so fucking sexy when you do that.”

Okay, so maybe the whole ‘waiting until after exams’ bit is getting to Haechan. He wouldn’t wait until your calendar cleared up, he couldn’t, his testosterone wouldn’t let him.

It’s been a whole three days since he got to fuck you; and God was it driving him insane.

You glance up at him now, unimpressed. You knew studying with him was a bad idea, but he’d been so insistent; and you had to admit, knowing he had made you cum four times made his presence all the more tolerable to hang out with.

“When I what? Do science homework?"

"No, no – I mean, yes. When you concentrate you get this small… crease between your brows…” He reaches forward – concentrating himself – tugging the plush of his bottom lip between his teeth as he reaches out to poke between your brows. “You look fucking sexy.”

“Alright, Casanova, hands to ourselves” you snort before you return to your reading.

The silence doesn’t last long, and the second he opens his mouth you swear you’re two moments away from taping his lips together.

“Lemme eat you out.”

“Wh– no!” Horrified, you peek around to see if anyone had heard him. But the library is virtually empty – it always is after 11 PM on a Friday.

And also, you’re both tucked away in a table at the back behind the History books that no-one ever takes out.

“You should be studying.”

“Don’t worry about me, I got this exam in the bag.”

You glare. “You’re awfully confident.”

“Yeah.” He shrugs, slumping in his seat again. “You’re my only competition, and, well…”

“Well, what?” You demand, setting your book down.

This was the usual dynamic you were familiar with when it came to Lee Haechan.

“You saying I’m not good enough competition, for you Hyuck? If my memory serves me correctly – and it definitely does – I beat you by 10% on our last exam.”

His own eyes narrow.

Oh, you just hit a nerve.

“Just for that,” he begins slowly, pushing his chair out, “I’m gonna suck your clit ‘til you go dizzy.”

“What part of no don’t you understand?”

But the promise is enticing and you part your legs anyway as he shimmies underneath the table.

“You’re such a fuckboy, I swear–”

“I am not!” He objects incredulously from beneath you. “I just like how you taste, baby.”

A fuckboy, you swear. But he’s got a way with words (and a way with his fingers, and a way with his tongue, and a way with his di—).

You feel your skirt being rucked up and your panties being pulled to the side – seconds later, his face ducks up from the table, grinning wolfishly.

“You’re kinda wet down here, baby. Are you sure you’re okay?” He teases.

“Shut up before I scream,” you grunt, folding your arms.

“Wouldn’t that be a dream?” He sighs. He retreats not two milliseconds after, though, and you hear him whistle lowly to himself. And then, so quiet you almost don’t catch it: “Fucking hell, baby.”

You make a promise that if he calls you baby once more you’re going to kick him because it makes your stomach flutter and your palms sweat — but then he licks a rough line up your pussy and you decide that maybe you’ll allow him to call you whatever he pleases.

Your head falls back as he does it again, and again, and again, as if he’s trying to clean up whatever mess you’d made in your panties. And normally you’d be irritated — wanting him to just move onto your clit already — but he genuinely sounds like he’s enjoying himself.

Quiet groans in his throat and passionate movements of his jaw, and his hands grasp your thighs so tightly you know there’ll be bruises. He smacks his lips wetly and you jolt, peeking out from behind the bookshelf to see if anyone had seen.

“Calm down,” He says, words muffled against you. “Nobody comes behind here on a Friday night. We’re safe.”

And as if to punctuate his point: a finger pulls back the hood of your clit, and true to his word, he sucks. Quickly, you shove your fist into your mouth and begin to gnaw on your knuckles, squeezing your eyes shut so hard that you see stars.

“H-Hyuck,” you whimper, “Unless you want me to get us caught–"

"I know, I know,” he says, sighing. His face comes out from underneath the table again. “I’ll be good if you pull your top down.”

“W-what?” To be fair, you’re still delirious off pleasure because his thumb hasn’t stopped grinding against your clit. “Why?"

"So I can play with your tits,” he says easily, shrugging. “C'mon, Princess. Show me your boobs.”

You stare at him for a moment, disbelief written on your face. “You’re such a man.”

“And you’ve still got the limp to prove it, haven’t you, baby? Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you can’t walk straight.”

“Whatever.” You pull your top down, tug your breasts out of their cups – only to appease him and get him to shut up. Immediately he takes one in his grabby hands, all warm and rough as he tugs and pulls at one nipple.

So, okay, maybe he does know what he’s doing. Sometimes. Who are you kidding? All the time.

“Hm, you like that, don’t you?"

"Shut up,” you hiss, “if you get us banned from this library because of your dirty talk I’m never fucking you again—shit."

“We both know that’s not true.”

A steady stream of suckling on your sensitive bundle of nerves calls your attention elsewhere; at the same time, your nipple is rolled between his index and thumb. You feel like you’re buzzing all over, and it’s not because you’ve had five cups of coffee in the last three hours.

You don’t realise that you’re panting – fucking close – until Haechan releases your clit with a pop. He ducks underneath the table to peek up at you again. "Are you trying to get us caught?"

"I’ll be quiet,” you promise through gritted teeth, shoving your top into your mouth. You restrain the urge to curse him out because you could feel the beginning flutters of your orgasm on the tip of your tongue, and you know he’ll draw it out as much as possible if given the chance. “Just keep going."

He’s wearing a victorious, shit-eating grin when he gets back to it, energy increasing rapidly. He eats pussy like he’s competing for a trophy, and truth be told, you don’t mind being his prize if he makes you cum as hard as you did a few days ago. His tongue moves eagerly, tracing letters and numbers and fucking his name on your sensitive skin before sucking again.

No noise. You try to coach your brain into silence.

You never usually have a problem keeping quiet for the first orgasm. But as much as you hate to admit it, the act of being eaten out in a public library is a different kind of turn on.

And it really doesn't help that Haechan knows exactly what he’s doing.

Maybe that’s why when you cum, you have no problem with clinging to any part of him you can get your hands on — his hand on your chest, his hair between your legs. A weak whimper follows as you contract around nothing, hips bucking gently into his mouth, and he takes it all in.

Fuck.

He slides back from under the table and resurfaces a metre away, grinning widely. You know the image of you looking so ruined because of him is doing wonders for his ego — so as quickly as possible you pull your top down and readjust your skirt, panties irritatingly rough against your skin.

"Good, huh?"

You don’t want to give him anymore satisfaction, but you know with the orgasm he had just given you so publicly, there was no use in lying. In fact, you’re certain lying to him would only make his cocky ego flame even more.

“Whatever, Hyuck. You give good head, I’ll give you that.”

He hums, leaning backwards. “Thanks, baby. Now, bend over."

”Excuse me?“ You say.

“C’mon, you can’t just let me eat your pretty pussy and not expect me to get hard. You’re blue balling me here, Princess.”

You’re so genuinely shaken by his unfaltering confidence that you just stare.

“And don’t pretend you don’t love my cock.”

“Hyuck—”

“Bend over, I’m not kidding.”

You’re in a library. Letting him eat you out was already a reach — but you can’t deny that you do love the feeling of him inside you. And he did take good care of you last time. And —

You sigh in defeat, standing. “Remember what I told you last time?"

"You get loud after two. I’ll keep that in mind, baby.”

[fillinforlater]

The Archive of Smite

This page belongs to the writer named Smite. He wrote fics starting in September of 2021 up until April 2024. In these 2,5 years, over 8.000 people followed him to read some of the craziest k-pop girl group smut out there. Almost 150 stories of sex in all kinds of positions, for many reasons, all over the world (and in outerspace), with too many kinks to count.

"When I started, I kinda wanted to become the best. I wanted my favorite writers at the time - Levi, Peach, Sins, and many more - to know that I could write as good as they can. I wanted to go wilder and crazier."

Smite, though ambitious, was also stupid and naive. At roughly the same time he started writing, two other community legends began their careers. IZ and Kaede crushed everything in their sight, especially the former becoming an absolute legend.

"Writing was fun. At times, it was escapism from everyday worries. At other times, it was fulfillment of fantasies I could never reach. Mostly though, it was just horny. BFH that just became words. If you go through my Masterlist, you might see which idols had some random heights or were just... Always on my hot list."

Smite never really stopped writing, not for long stretches that is. It didn't really occur to him that there might be a sudden, drastic reason to stop. He considered doing so anyways. Something about writing porn about irl people without them knowing or wanting - needless to say, it is an odd hobby. Nevertheless, he enjoyed it amd the community it brought with it.

"I fucking love these guys. So many hilarious peoplefrom all over the world. One became like my best friend, a rock during my emotional struggles. Another was my boyfriend for a short time. Man, I screwed up with him kekw. There are too many to mention. I've had long talks with some, others just came by and listened to me mald or something. I love you all, some of you I consider true friends - part of my soul - and I feel connected, even if you are thousands of miles away."

2024 started stressful for Smite. The pressure of Uni started to collapse on him. Even the thought of big kpop concerts wasn't enough to cheer him up. Luckily though, there was this girl. Sweet, kind, caring and in the same position. Soon, he had found something that seemed impossible. She was in love with him and he in love with her. And when everything unraveled.

"I stopped writing. I burried my drafts. I finished only one story and released it way later. I'm sorry I didn't announce it properly, but I just felt that this smut writing career was over. I don't regret it - I gained something beautiful I want to keep for the rest of my life. She is at least as pretty as Minju, so I call that the biggest win imaginable lol."

So no more smuts from Smite?

"99% no"

No more fanfictions/girl group stories in general?

"Eh, 80% no. Still some unfinished angst that I would love y'all to read tho"

Will you ever reach those 150 fics?

"We will see. In this count there are fics with less than 1000 words. I might just sneeze and finish it kekw"

Any fic you regret not writing?

"Not really? Maybe a proper ending for Starship: Horizon? Or yet another Minju fic? Futa stuff? Gaeul angst x female reader? Or how about a fic with 69 different idols at once? Who but me would dare to write something so stupid?"

Do you think you reached your initial goal?

"Do I consider myself the GOAT? No. That title belongs to either Peach, Levi or IZ. But I know that of my now 8.700 followers some consider me their favorite writer. I'm flattered and thank you very much for reading amd enjoying my work."

Now for the most important question: does this post mean you are finally leaving the community behind for good? Is this your last hoorah?

"..."

"Never."

[multifariousqueer]

Earth 42 Miles Headcannons

A/n: y’all pls request some more miles 42 fics PLEASE I BEG

Warnings: angst, fluff, kinda toxic behavior( I don’t condone), nicknames

Kinda toxic but in a good way ngl

If you can braid, you braid his hair for him

Uncle Aaron respects you

Spoils you if he gets extra money from his job

You don’t know what he does but Yk he’s always tired and irritable

“Here’s $200. Imma be gone for a while Mami so take care of my mom and take care of yourself, okay?”

“Okay, papi”

Will go nuts if you call him Papi Fr

Loves you and you’re his soft spot but sometimes he can be harsh on you

Matching Jordan’s(this is also true for normal Miles)

Hates physical affection but likes words of affirmation

He loves it when you rely on him, it makes him feel big

Will pay for anything you need. Shoes? He’s got them coming. Clothes? It’s on your doorstep. Stuffed animals? It’s in his hand as he’s getting ready to give it to you

Short small kisses>>>>>

“Te amo, Mami. Cuídate” “SÍ Papi”

You saw him come home with gashes and blood on his clothes once and you were concerned but he brushed past it

You stopped bringing stuff like that up bc you know he will probably get upset:

“What’s going on, Miles?”

“Nothing, Y/n.”

“Ik something’s up so what is it?”

“Worry abt yourself , y/n. Besides, I didn’t see you complaining when I put those $1000 shoes on your feet.”

He had a point

He’s as stoic as a statue. You never know how he’s feeling fr

He makes you look him in the eye when you speak to him

Grabs your chin 😍🤭😵‍💫

Will grab your face and stares in your eyes. He loves looking at your eyes

Kisses you on the temple a lot but not afraid to kiss your lips

Can sometimes be neglectful but doesn’t mean it

overall loves you but is nonchalant asf

[vagabond-umlaut]

ramé

love.

a word everyone spells as l-o-v-e, except one certain young sorcerer – to whom it appears h-a-p-p-y, to whom it appears h-a-v-o-c – to whom it appears the shape of the letters of your name.

you, on the other hand, forget how to spell when the same word is before you – a fact which, your admirer reckons, would have been a major problem were he not he – that is, were he not the one and only 'gojo satoru'.

and thus begins, the plan.

and thus begins, the six steps to catch one's crush's eye — by the six eyes.

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

tags: set during gojo's past arc; childhood friends to lovers; pining-since-forever!gojo; oblivious-since-forever!you; tooth-rotting fluff; adorable banter; height difference; all your friends ship satoru & you; they all are very tired of you both as well; satoru & you-hashtag [not-canon-yet] relationship goals; angry protective gojo; hell lots of teasing; misunderstandings; arguments; angst with a VERY HAPPY ending

wc: 12k+ (i'm genuinely so proud of this, guys(gn) :D)

notes: decided to republish my most popular fic so far to celebrate my blog crossing 1000 followers! tysm for all the love and support u hv shown me, besties!!! <333 btw, jjk isn't mine. dividers by @/inklore. hope u enjoy reading this!

|1/6| overhaul your wardrobe.

a low whistle leaves gojo as he appraises himself in the mirror.

snow white hair neatly trimmed with short bangs, sunglasses from gucci giving a peek of his transfixing blue gaze, a fitting tom ford white shirt paired with black slacks and designer shoes, and, to top it all off, a perfume by bleu de chanel he bought especially for today...

there's no way in hell you won't find him attractive today.

with a smug smirk, the first-year swings the door to his dorm wide open, ready to astound the two waiting outside with his insanely good looks - and pauses, boisterous shout dying within his throat.

"'toru!!" you exclaim as you jump off the balustrade you were seated on and rush to him, a wide grin splitting your face into half. "surprise, i caught an earlier train!"

in spite of the shock, the boy feels his lips lift in a smile.

it's been nearly a year since the last time the two of you were face-to-face; you're still as beautiful as you were then.

"hey shortie," the words leave him in a whisper as you wrap your arms around him - only for a pained 'ouch!' to escape him a second later. massaging his side where you pinched him, the boy watches you step back with a scowl. (faux, of course.)

"call me that one more time and no one can save you from my wrath."

"wrath?" chuckling, gojo bends a bit to be your eye-level. you narrow your eyes at him. "you think that can scare me? the gojo satoru?"

"it sure can," folding your arms across your chest, you throw him a smirk in the next instant. "if it makes me share all the mochi i bought with ieiri senpai and geto senpai, and not give you the tiniest bit of it."

eyes widening behind glasses, a gasp escapes him. "you wouldn't!"

"i would," you answer, the same smirk as before still on your lips.

gojo backs off.

you're nothing if not awfully determined to make your promises see the light of the day. if he continues pestering you, the young sorcerer knows he'll actually not get a single morsel of those delicious sweets.

"you know what," a familiar voice cuts in through his thoughts and the boy twists to find his best friend walking towards him. sending him a discreet wink (which he deems is 100% suspicious), suguru reaches your side and continues, "satoru here was really excited about you coming to meet him."

"oh, is it so?" your smirk gives way to an angelic smile. gojo wishes it was directed at him instead of that long-haired bastard.

"yeah," said bastard meanwhile agrees with an overeager nod. "shoko and i too were really excited to meet the girl our friend is so infa-"

a tense silence befalls the corridor when suguru abruptly stops in the middle of the sentence. gojo swears if you weren't standing there, in front of them, he would have murdered his friend in cold blood today.

"infa-?" you prompt, smile dropping a little as your confused gaze darts from one to the other. gojo forces a chuckle out.

"it's nothing, don't you worry," he tries to draw your attention away, when shoko swoops in, like the savior she is (gojo decides to buy her one month's supply of cigarettes) and inquires, "hey, you haven't seen satoru in months, right? any change you find in him?"

that seems to be the trick. a curious glint shines in your eyes as they travel up and down his figure - appreciatively for sure, the boy says to himself. you too seem to have a liking for expensive things, after all.

after two seconds of close inspection, you turn to shoko with a bright smile. gojo's soul goes soaring at the sight in the clear skies above.

"nope! he's the same old 'toru i've always known."

gojo's soul crashes down upon the earth, splintering at the impact.

his two classmates give him a look before shoko asks again, a mild disbelief to her tone, "you really don't find anything new about him? like, maybe he has grown taller? or maybe, more handsome?"

"anything else which you never even expected, maybe?" suguru pipes in from beside him. gojo shoots him a grateful look, all past offenses already forgiven and forgotten.

a beat passes before you shake your head. "nope. nothing about him is new. though, when you speak about unexpected..." you trail off with a contemplative look.

shoko encourages you, "when we speak about unexpected-"

"i never expected you to be so pretty," you finish the sentence for her with a small smile. gojo's jaw drops to the ground. okay, what the fu-

"oh," shooting him an amused smirk, shoko faces you. "and why is it so? why did you not expect me to be so pretty?"

"it's not my fault," you reply, sending him an accusatory glance as you continue, "when i asked 'toru if his new classmates are good-looking, he said they aren't. he said you all look really plain."

"do you find me plain or handsome?" suguru butts in, ignoring the blue-eyed glare boring holes into the side of his head.

"you're plain," the short reply comes in an instant from you - and even in the midst of his gloom for going unnoticed, gojo finds it within himself to smirk at his best friend's withered face.

in the meantime, you continue speaking to shoko, unperturbed.

"yeah, so imagine my surprise when i met you at the torii gates earlier today. with such a stylish bobcut, cute face and flawless skin... i really thought you were a model, ieiri-senpai."

you pause for a second - undoubtedly to catch your breath from that non-stop chatter; gojo knows your habits like his own by now - then ask the girl who's watching you with a pleased expression, an excited grin threatening to bloom on your face, "are you a model, senpai?"

said senpai lets out a chuckle in response.

and despite feeling dispirited (and very, very jealous of that shoko for hogging all your attention), the white-haired boy cracks a fond smile, watching you be so cheery.

yeah, you certainly are one very dense dumbass.

but, he too is gojo satoru - and he will get his feelings across to you.

|2/6| display your strengths.

being a show-off is what gojo's the best at - besides yearning for you from afar, that is.

a wide grin stays on his face as he watches you approach him, a tad ahead of your classmates - two boys, nanami kento and haibara yu.

being in the first year, neither of you three can take part in the kyoto sister-school goodwill event - that doesn't stop you all from being spectators, though - which is what's enough for the gojo's plans.

a call of his name drags him away from gazing at you - you look good in that tee of his, you accidentally shrunk in the laundry - and twists back to find his teacher frowning at him.

the second-year finds it hard to wear the same grin. "yo yaga sensei, what's up?"

the man lets out a long-drawn sigh.

"don't overdo it, satoru," he says - the boy opens his mouth, ready to retort with a quip - only to be stopped by an unfamiliar expression overcoming the teacher's features.

it's a horrific insult of a smile, the young sorcerer realizes after a beat.

yaga, meanwhile, continues with that same expression, "i too was young once. i can understand what you're going through now - which is why i won't stop you from showing your talents to her or whatever. just... remember no one should die."

a quiet nod is all the boy manages in reply, too overwhelmed for a bit by the fatherly care yaga insists on giving him despite the annoyance suguru and he equally insist on being to their sensei.

with a pat on the shoulder, yaga leaves in the direction of the other faculty and staff. schooling his expression, gojo shoots suguru a look.

"hey suguru, how did yaga get to know about me and her?"

"who is her, gojo senpai?" a sweet voice chips in, soon followed by your teasing grin floating into his line of vision.

the boy averts his gaze for a beat - flustered by the sheer proximity between both of your faces which could be closed were he not such a coward, stop smirking, suguru - before sending you a wounded look.

"since when did i become gojo senpai to you?"

"since today," you reply with a tight smile. gojo doesn't like it one bit on your face. "i've been asked by the higher-ups to act professional with you."

a moment passes - wherein the boy registers the statement - before red flashes in his vision. placing his hands on your shoulders, he asks, or rather, demands to know, "did they hurt you? or threaten you? give me their names. who were those fucking bastards?"

brows furrowing, you place your much smaller hands atop his. "relax. nothing happened," you whisper, so quiet only he can hear it, "they don't have the guts or power to hurt or threaten me. all they told me is to, i quote, refrain from calling you such terms of endearment again. and i was like, okay."

a small smile settles on your lips as you take his hands in yours and start rubbing circles into them. the boy feels a lot of his tension drain away. smile brightening (you too seem to have realized the effects of this gesture on him), you add, "plus, it's only four years. once we've both graduated, i can get back to calling you whatever i want to call. those old geezers can't direct me then."

"they still can't now..." gojo begins - then stops.

with that bootlicker eldest brother you have, those old rats can now.

you give him a tired smile, words unneeded to confirm that the both of you are indeed cursing the same set of people now.

you open your mouth to say something - funny probably, if the shine in your eyes was anything to go by - before a muted cough pops the bubble you two had unconsciously slipped into.

and with an entertained smirk at the boy, who immediately seperates your linked hands, shoko informs, "sensei's calling for you, gojo. the competition's about to begin."

acknowledging her with a brief nod, gojo returns his focus to you, looking for a sliver of fear or anxiety in your face - one he'll soothe away with a gentle smile and maybe, just maybe, a forehead kiss - only for all his dreams to be dashed in the dirt.

you're peering up at him, beaming excitedly.

"go, beat 'em, senpai," you cheer him with a fist pump. an amused snicker sounds somewhere behind. your zeal doesn't budge one bit. "go, kick those kyoto students' asses. i know you will win."

and win, your white-haired senpai does - nothing new it it.

and you too seem to be very happy at it - again nothing new in it.

'cause when do you not congratulate him with a blinding beam every time the boy is successful - be it at making those pretty origami stars the way you taught him to; or at defeating a weakass sorcerer in a lame match.

however what is new is the fact you've grown rather competitive - not that gojo minds it in the slightest, though. quite the contrary, in fact.

"aren't you being a little too confident?" you inquire, throwing him a peeved glance, "every opponent you face in the future won't be as weak as those two kyoto boys today. you sure you'll stay invincible then too?"

resting his chin on the chair he is straddling, the second-year smirks, "any way you can prove i won't, shortie?"

geto sends him a questioning look while ieiri looks away from them to the scenery outside, giving a long sigh. his other two kouhais, nanami and haibara, pause in their game of cards to look at you, confusedly.

gojo observes you ignore them, eyes trained on him only, lips curving slowly into a sharp grin. gods, can you get any lovelier than this?

"well..." you drawl, keeping your focus on him. a flush creeps up the sides of his neck, which he earnestly hopes goes overlooked by you.

it doesn't go overlooked by your too-serious classmate, though - gojo spots nanami's eyes widen for a mere instant before reverting to their typical indifference.

you continue, grin simmering to a daring smile now, "why don't you find it out on your own tomorrow? twelve noon. practice field. what do you think, senpai?"

the sorcerer pretends to take a moment to regard your proposal, then shrugs. "sure, why not? sounds good enough to me."

with a wordless nod, the boy watches you return to the video game you were playing with his best friend - then look back at him on your name being called. an eyebrow rises in silent question.

seeing that the cue, he asks, "but what will the loser have to do?"

the reply comes with a smirk, your eyes dropping to your game. "you can buy me the latest version of this game. that'll be fine, i guess."

gojo was wrong - said person realizes as he watches the orange-red glow seep in through the window and render you an ethereal glow.

your competitiveness isn't the only thing new to him this evening.

your ability to make him even more head over heels for you than the boy already is (an impossible feat, really, given the chains and locks guarding him within, apart from the layer of infinity without)...

...this is yet another new thing gojo learns about you, this evening.

|3/6| gather info on your crush.

"oh, you wouldn't want to be friends with her."

the comment cuts through the air with a noisy chuckle and a raucous chorus of giggles - gojo's knuckles grow white with the painfully tight grip he has on the glass of mocktail.

suguru shoots him a contrite face from the other side of the crowd, mouthing an apology with a helpless shrug. the boy looks away from his best friend to throw a glance at the two girls a few seats away.

a beat passes wherein shoko and utahime share a brief look, and the former speaks up, an odd edge to her voice as she leans forwards, a smirk directed at the boy. "and why wouldn't geto? she seems like a pretty nice girl to be friends with."

your cousin scoffs. gojo seriously wishes there wasn't a strict rule set by his father for the clan members of not meddling in the other clans' matters, to maintain an image of neutrality and amiability.

(it's not like he prefers not to break rules or is afraid of his father, the boy thinks grimly as he gulps the last sip of his mocktail and returns the glass to the table with a thud. it's far from being either of those.

it's just that with a small response from him in this matter, you will be dragged under the elders' scrutiny; your friendship with him too will be - and that's something he would never wish upon you. so the boy stays quiet, opting to-)

"what the fuck did you just say?"

the chitter-chatter dies down to a deathly silence in an instant.

rising from his seat, gojo stalks towards the boy sitting on the couch. from the background, he can hear few voices urge him to stop, to get back, with repeated 'satoru, no' and 'satoru, relax' - but the boy finds not a cell in his body wanting to heed those voices. marching right up to your cousin, who shoots him a pathetically fake smirk now, the boy repeats himself, "what. did. you. just. say."

the target of the query huffs a chuckle, drunk and stinking - and your friend realizes now just how much of a diluted description of him you gave him the other day. the guy isn't just some petty irritating relative of yours, he is a fucking bastard.

a fucking bastard who's going to get beaten into a pulp, if he doesn't choose his next words wisely.

another chuckle leaves him, before he gets up from his seat, a slight sway to the action as he sneers at gojo. now, were the circumstances different, the white-haired boy is sure such a brazen person would've impressed him, who is the strongest sorcerer there is, but not today.

not when you're the one who is the innocent undeserving recipient of such a remark as the one he utters next.

"i just said, my cousin's a freak who can read someone's mind without them knowing - and she does that all the time for her sick enjoyment. no one can ever trust that bitch."

a fist connects with the side of your cousin's face and before anyone can realize what's happening, the two boys are rolling on the floor in a brawl, gojo obviously with the upper hand as he lands blow after blow and yell after yell on the other.

a quiet voice whispers to his conscience, chiding his response to the situation to be too harsh, too cruel - but no sooner does it appear than it is stomped down and shoved away by images from the past.

images of a little girl crying, yelling, screaming, eyes squeezed shut, how everything's so loud, how everyone's so noisy, how everyone just can't seem to stop talking of her - in the shocked silence of the party hall.

images of being informed over the phone, his friend won't be coming to play today either - for a class or a function or a cold, he cares the least for - before overhearing later at dinner, it's the fifth day the girl's been comatose since her last treatment.

images of brash celebrations revelling in the discovery and return of a technique, long thought lost - the new messiah, they exclaim - while the said person looks at the elders with face steeped in what, the boy doesn't need his six eyes to know, is terror.

images of a girl, saying in a surprisingly void tone, how horrible, how terrible, how despicable a weapon they've made her into - sneaking into people's minds to steal the meaning of their lives away - before giving a suggestion, too smart, too sharp for a girl of ten; although-

"satoru!"

the singular word snaps the sorcerer's thoughts into two, making him move his irate gaze away from the bloodied face of the bitch to the door-

oh.

it's you.

you, standing in the school uniform, a bag slung over your shoulders.

you, eyes round and lips parted as you stare at the scene before.

you, who takes only a second before you rush forwards, moving him away from your cousin, worried gaze raking over his features instead of the bruised wailing mess of a relative left behind.

"'toru," the word escapes you in a whisper as you maneuver him into sitting on the couch.

another voice wafts over to him, a lot like suguru's, but he pays it no mind, wanting to focus on you and you only, while your fingers travel over his face, brush his bangs away, tuck them behind the shell of his ear, then finally come to a rest on the apple of his cheeks, the grazing of the thumb soothing a minor cut.

though the way your eyebrows furrow at it, emotions darting across your face a million a second, from confusion to concern to anger - gojo reckons, were anyone to see you now, they would think it ain't a tiny nick but a gaping wound.

the white-haired boy grasps your wrist in his fingers.

"i'm okay, shortie," the second-year reassures you in a whisper. you peer at him closely in turn for a beat longer, before a long sigh leaves you though the frown on your lips stays the same. he would've called you cute if not for the murderous intent rolling off you in waves...

gojo decides to call you hot now.

a seething gaze with a soft "what happened, 'toru?" reaches him next.

oh yes, gojo swoons inwardly, you're being so fucking hot.

nuzzling into the palm cradling his cheek, the boy smiles. "nothing you need to worry about."

"it's your cousin," a female voice butts in before a known pair of heads walk into his vision, one smoking a cigarette while the other looks at him then you, mildly stunned.

shoko continues, as laidback as ever (as if she too wasn't glowering then), "suguru there asked him something about you to which the pig replied with some nonsense, because of which satoru here jumped in to defend your honour." your eyes travel from her to him. a whoosh of air leaves the girl and she takes a long drag from a cigarette. "nothing very serious, to be honest..."

"but nothing too unserious either," utahime adds, which earns a small nod from her girlfriend, "if the asshole dares to lie about you once-"

"what's to say he won't again," you finish the sentence for her, a dark shadow looming over your face, then throw the culprit a harsh look. "and what shit did you spout, mr. resident douchebag of the clan?"

a corner of gojo's lips quirk up at the nickname you gave, then part in a grin at the reaction your cousin gave to that. embarassed, for sure, yet never going farther than glaring at you from those swollen eyes.

if you weren't standing here, caressing his face, your friend's certain, he would have gone to tear him a new one - the latter still scowling at you whilst intermittently yelping at the pain of his wounds.

a long sigh escapes you, visibly tired and annoyed.

"i know you can hear me just fine by that stink eye you're giving me, so fess up now - what the fuck were you telling about me?"

an absolute silence answers your question, and just when gojo thinks he might have to leave your warm cocoon to go beat your cousin up, again, suguru's voice sounds from beside, "he was talking about your CT."

"oh?" a brow rises. "and what about it?"

"apparently - and i quote," the long-haired boy adds with palms raised and faced forwards, at the scowl he shoots him, "you can read others' minds without their knowledge, and you do that always. for fun, your cousin claims."

you blink, and turn to your relative; a mask, gojo observes with a hint of melancholy, slipping over your features - not that the boy blames you, though. you need a mask - now, most of all times.

"you said that, aniki?" you inquire, the caressing hand over gojo's skin stilling with a slight tremor. he envelopes your hand in his; an action you respond to with a squeeze, continuing, "but why did you? after all that happened, after all that everyone in the family knows, why?"

a stubborn scoff sounds from the other end of the room; one of the six eyes twitches in its socket.

"i don't think you should ask this question, shortie," the second-year hums, pulling a nonplussed face from you. he grins, "you can simply read his mind, no? your aniki won't be forced to give a reply; your ask too will be answered. besides, this isn't gonna be the first time you're breaking into someone's mind, and, your cousin's not even gonna feel his mind being read - a painless procedure - isn't that right, aniki?"

"fuck no!!!!"

and bingo!

gojo watches you cast a long look at him, then back at your cousin, before a slow smile spreads on your features, the glint so dear to him making a comeback in your eyes.

"not a bad idea, senpai," you say, lifting your free hand and directing it at the culprit. a few gasps sound around you, soon followed by a few murmurs - your senpai watches them slide off your skin like water off a duck's back. you announce in a sing-song fashion, "well, here goes nothing~"

then stop at the anguished cry, your smile widening into a grin.

sweet and smug, like the cat who got the canary.

gojo feels three pairs of eyes look at his smirk, all at the same time - the boy lets them look. the two of you share dynamics, the nature of which none, except you two, can ever dream of comprehending.

wailing, your cousin rises and stumbles over to you, hands folded in a pleading gesture.

"please, no, no, no," he sobs, very nearly falling at your feet before you take a step backwards, disgust overtaking your grin, sending the boy reeling back. "i beg you, no. please don't kill me. i was just kidding; it was just a joke. i'm sorry, don't kill me."

"kill you?" you let out a shocked gasp, placing a hand over your chest, "i would never. i was just trying to read your mind, aniki. why on earth would that kill you? you won't even feel anything-"

"it's the binding vow, you bitch!!" the boy spits, interrupting you, "the one you took years back, 'cause you didn't want the higher-ups to use you as a spy again; giving up the element of secrecy of your CT to-"

your cousin pauses, the realization and the ensuing horror and regret dawning over his face; gojo presses him, sharing a smile with you.

"to?"

the answer arrives as a shuddered whisper - a whisper audible to all, however, thanks to the heavy silence in the room.

"to make it lethal on its victim instead; an attack none can stop, not even a special-grade."

the crash of a glass, or five, impacting with the ground sounds; you give a satisfied nod, smirking.

gojo runs a palm over your dishevelled hair, undoubtedly from driving with the windows down to this stupid meet of the teenagers from the jujutsu clans. you give him a smile, mouth opening to say something, but he doesn't let you. "don't thank me, stupid."

"okay," you acquiesce, a slight huff to your tone before it grows softer, "but can i at least say you were being very cool then? i'm impressed."

"who's impressed with whom?" a crass voice interrupts the moment before gojo can even form it entirely between the two of you.

three - nope, five (even your classmates are here, tch!) teasing smiles float into his vision; the second-year opens his mouth to throw back a retort - except you snatch the opportunity away from him.

"i'm impressed with gojo senpai- any problems, anyone?" you say, tilting your head to one side with the cutest little furrow in the midst of your brows. all five shake their heads, smiles widening before one of them falls on your next words.

"but the next time i see you, geto senpai, asking others what sort of a person i am - don't you dare deny it, you asked two of my friends too the same thing, they told me; god knows why you need my character certificate, though, and for whom; you're acting as if you've a sibling i wish to date and you wanna know everything about me before giving the green signal, but whatever it is, senpai-"

you heave a breath, a break from your tirade - while the remainder of the room's breathing stays suspended.

gojo glances away from you to find the attention of all the attendees fixed on you. he wraps an arm around your midsection and rests his chin on your shoulder. you lean the side of your head onto his.

"i promise i'll create problems for you, more if i see gojo senpai being dragged into the aftermath of your curiosity - okay?"

gojo watches his best friend look at you, terrified, for a second before turning to throw him a glare. the white-haired boy bites back a grin.

placing hands on his hips, suguru exclaims, "you know what, i tried to help but no one here is worthy of my assistance."

"no one asked you for this help, suguru," shoko interjects smoothly, "you were the one who insisted, something about this method being the most effective or something if they want to catch her attention-"

"whoa, whoa, whoa. who wants to catch my attention?" you inquire, cutting them two off. gojo's classmates stop and the blood flowing in his veins drops to a subzero as he cranes his neck to look at you.

you twist to look back at him. "is there someone who wants to catch my attention? do you know them?"

"i-uh-um," the boy stutters, mind scrambling for a reply - something, anything - before nanami interrupts, a small smile on his face, "yeah, there is someone, actually, and we all know him. geto senpai was just gathering some data on you as his wingman."

"oh," you mutter, gaze dropping to the ground, then lifting to gojo. the boy simply blinks back, which draws a frown from you in turn.

retrieving a pair of shades from your bag, you hand it to him and turn back to suguru, a barely-there smile on your lips.

"next time he wants some info on me, ask him to ask me directly. i'll appreciate it."

"noted, boss," the words escape gojo before the addressed can even reply, utterly unmoved by the five exasperated glares [honestly, it's four: haibara can never really glare at anyone] - the next step of the plan already whirring to life in the shades-donning boy's brain.

so, so giddy at the fact of being told of the golden key to your heart.

|4/6| gather info from your crush.

"the moon is beautiful, isn't it?"

"so are you."

a long minute passes between gojo and you, gazes fixed on the other person and only them, before you lick your chapped lips - the boy's attention instantly going to that hynotic motion of your tongue...

and you pinch his arm.

"ow shortie!!!! what the fuck was that for!?!?" the boy yells, massaging the sore spot on his arm, before out of nowhere, the red signal glows green and he has to shift his focus to the steering wheel.

you toss him a mad scowl from the passenger's seat, one he catches effortlessly, winking, when an observation crashes upon him and he coos. "aww, did my itty-bitty-shortie-baby just get flustered by me? aww, is she blushing? aww, she's so cute!!!"

"i asked you to help me learn how to confess, gojo," you grumble with a glare at him, "not make fun of me."

your co-passenger makes an affronted face at your words, although, internally, he is beside himself. and to be honest, how can he not?

you're in the same car as him, on a three hour long drive from tokyo to nikko, exchanging declarations of love with one another while the boy's (spare) shades slide down the bridge of your nose and he hums along to the songs you choose on the stereo... if a few facts are being ignored (like the one where this is your mission and the two of you are in your uniforms), the second-year can totally imagine the two of you going on a weekend getaway as a couple now.

a soft smile settles on his lips, as he sneaks a glance of you from the corner of his eyes. "i wasn't trying to make fun of ya, shortie," he says, "i was just responding to your statement."

"but that directly?" you ask, shock and embarrassment flooding your face. your friend stifles a chuckle. "i commented on the moon being beautiful. you should've said something like 'it is, isn't it?' - but no, you went and replied, 'so are you'. my admirer will never be so direct with me; why don't you try to understand that simple fact?"

there are a few days when gojo is really divided between wanting to flick your forehead hard and wanting to kiss you senseless.

today seems to be one such glorious day.

swerving the car onto a stop by the side of the road, he lets his head fall onto the steering wheel and lifts it to lock his eyes with yours.

"and what makes you think your admirer won't be a direct guy?"

"the fact the guy couldn't even show his face to me once, and did not even want to share his contact details with me, despite me pestering him via suguru and nanami, for ages now."

okay, ouch, that one's on him.

yet, never being the one to accept defeat, he throws back, "and what if he wants to build up some mystery before your first meet? you love mysteries, don't you? the guy likes you; he must be trying to use that knowledge to confess to you."

"i like only murder mysteries, 'toru," your deadpan response arrives in a beat, which then evolves into curiosity when you ask, "but how do you know so much about these things? how many relationships have you been in, 'toru?"

it's gojo's turn to grow embarrassed now. hand reaching out to fiddle with the bracelet on your wrist, he answers, "zero."

"hey, don't be embarrassed," he watches you shoot him a grin. a tiny smile is all he manages to return while you continue, "i too have never been in a relationship. anyone you ever confessed to?"

"isn't that evident from my previous answer?"

"nope! you might've gotten rejected; who knows~"

the grin on your lips widens; gojo looks at it for once before dropping his gaze. under the interplay of the light and shadow from the leaves of the tree, there appears to be something different about you - the sorcerer can't really pinpoint what it is but he knows there is, and he doesn't want to dwell on it - lest he loses his self-control.

"i have never confessed to anyone, and whatever confessions i have received, i've either ignored or rejected them all."

"ooh, same!" your excited voice ringing within the confines of the car, you lift his palm to meet yours in a hi-five. gojo lets you do so - before you place it between your two palms and clasp it, a sharp gasp drawn from him at the action. you shoot him a concerned look.

"your hand's freezing cold, 'toru? you okay?"

"yeah, yeah, i'm fine," the boy mumbles, moving his hand away from your comforting warmth - an action he doesn't want to do but has to, for the sake of propriety. something happening out of sheer impulse isn't how he wants to start his story with you - you don't deserve that.

"um, okay," you mutter, then inquire, timid and awkward, "i've one last question on your love life... can i ask that? you can totally ask me to stop though if you're feeling uncomfortable."

"ask away," the boy answers with a smile, he can see, is tense in the mirror as he restarts the car and returns it to the road. a long second passes before you ask, "have you ever liked anyone, 'toru?"

"yeah... there's one girl. i love her."

"oh."

the monosyllabic answer sends a torsion through his chest and gojo twists towards you - only to find a cryptic smile resting on your lips.

discarding your shoes, you fold your knees upto your chest and rest your head atop them, facing him. your senpai is really thankful a soft song comes onto the stereo next, for were it not so, he's certain your soft question would have gone unheard.

"how does your first love feel? beautiful, right? the way it's in books, songs and movies... isn't it?"

gojo takes a moment to mull over your query.

it is... yet it isn't.

the flutters in his heart when you skip past him in the corridors with a beam; the butterflies in his stomach when you plop on the chair next to him in the cafeteria; the dizziness in his head when your face is too close to his; the utterly-unplatonic thoughts of you plaguing him, day and night, dusk and dawn...

the fictional works sure have got this aspect of love right.

but they aren't right in so many other aspects of it.

falling in love with you isn't love-on-first-crash nor is it from a magical transformation in one of you nor is it after ages and ages of ignorance and denial and the final mind-numbing feeling that oh shit! you're the one for him; always have been; the girls with whom he's been till now are mere mirages of you; but it's too late now... you're moving abroad on a flight in two hours, with a boyfriend who's far better than him.

no.

the goggles-wearing sorcerer's catching feelings for you is way more realistic and easier to digest than that.

the two of you are friends, friends, friends - until the morning the two of you are munching on an ice cream tub, and with a casual glance at you, the boy muses what he feels for you is weird, not like his feelings for his other friends - and after a month's worth research, reaches the conclusion of him being in love with you.

quick. direct. smart.

just like the heir of the gojo clan himself.

a small smile lining his lips on this short trip down the memory lane, your senpai hums, "it's complicated. you'll understand when you have your first love."

a soft sigh is the only response you give and gojo reaches over to give a small knock to the side of your head. "don't overthink, shortie," the boy says in a fond tone, a feeling which expands within himself at the smile you offer him, "everything's gonna be okay; i'll personally make sure it is."

"oh, yeah?" a brow rises while your eyes crinkle in a cheeky grin. "and how exactly do you plan on doing that? you gonna have a serious talk with my admirer or something, before our first date?"

if talks in the mirror over the bathroom sink counts, the white-haired boy has had countless discussions so far - but he doesn't tell you that - choosing to return your question with a question of his own.

one which has been pestering him for a while now.

"but, shortie... why the hell are you practising-"

"to confess now?" stealing his words from the tip of his tongue, gojo watches you let out a long tired exhale, then slump back in your seat, a hint of a smile on your lips. flying strands of your hair, from the wind rushing in through the open window, form a halo around your head-

your friend thinks you are an angel descended from above, no matter how you look.

a titter breaks his enraptured gaze on you, and he blinks, finding you with a tiny curve of your lips. you continue, "i wanna stay prepared. if not for this date, then another. if not for this guy, then another. but the thing is, i wanna stay prepared. for love and for everything that comes with it - besides..." your smile grows bashful, an emotion gojo instantly realizes is impossible for him to get tired of seeing on you; you shrug.

"the heart does what it wants, does it not?"

really??

the young sorcerer looks away from you for a beat, letting his gaze travel over the rows of trees dotting the increasingly mountainous terrain, then looks back at you.

the two of you are awfully close to the destination of your trip.

removing a hand from the wheel and reaching it out to intertwine his fingers with yours, the boy asks, "wanna go visit that patisserie i was talking of the other day after this mission? i've heard the sweets there are worth dying for."

"but won't it be late evening by the time our job's done?" you ask back with a frown, "and we also have to return to the school... why don't-"

"it's a full moon tonight, shortie," gojo interjects you with a soft little smile. you stare befuddled at him for a while, before the bulb lights to life in your brain - an event bringing a semblance of relief to the boy - and you laugh.

"oh, oh, oh!" you exclaim, waggling your eyebrows, "i know exactly what you're going to do. you're gonna create a romantic atmosphere to teach me how to confess, aren't you? method teaching - eh, 'toru?"

a chuckle is what gojo decides to offer to your buzzing curiosity, until later this evening.

"i'll let my heart do what it wants to do."

|5/6| splurge on gifts.

"and what can this be?"

the silver of the bracelet glints, the tiny sapphires in its rim adding a sparkling effect as you show it to gojo. the boy drags his gaze from it to you, lips pressing into a line as he takes in the way you're looking at him.

two months back, if someone even merely insinuated at the fact you might be growing distant from him, he wouldn't have thought once before retaliating with a mean word or hit.

and, to be just, why on earth would he not?

yes, the 'date' he had proposed to take you on post mission remained just a proposal - many thanks to the old geezers and their knack for providing severely understated mission details [bitter sarcasm wholly intended] - but that didn't drive a wedge between you both; quite the opposite, in fact.

two months back, he found you sobbing at his bedside in the school infirmary, lips pressing kisses to his bruised knuckles time and again, while you kept mumbling on how you should've been more wary and cognizant of your surroundings, how he shouldn't have switched his infinity off to guard you from the caving roof and how you would buy him a milion sweets if he promised to not be reckless, but wouldn't hesitate to kill him with your CT if he broke the promise even once.

lovingly overprotective in an irresistibly cute way - that's exactly how you grew to be around gojo in the days he was healing, in the latter's eyes. suguru and shoko's comments too grew less teasing and more encouraging with time then - something which made him think, the feelings in his being might not be as one-sided as he tends to believe at times.

something which made him think, there might not be a day he has to imagine without your radiant grin directed at him, for him, because of him.

yet, now... as he regards you with utmost attention...

the sorcerer can't help but deem the unimaginable to have occurred.

face grim, eyes dull, lips puckered into a scowl, every fucking time you've come across him since your return to school from your home...

it doesn't really take a genius to gather you don't really want to be in his vicinity - a realisation which leads to your best friend of a decade and a few years to shower a torrent of gifts on you.

under the impression, that's what will return your keen undivided gaze to him - an impression, he watches, being tainted wrong with every other second that passes under the fading daylight.

you return the bracelet to its box and place it in the bag, one the boy knows contains the other gifts he had left at your doorstep or sent via shoko or haibara to you, the past month - and one you intend to give him back - 'cause for what else could you have asked to meet him at the training grounds this evening, carrying the bag, if not this?

wishing, not for the first time, for his six eyes to be able to glean your current state of mind, he asks, scooting slowly, deliberately to your seated form on the bench, "did you not like it, shor-"

"please don't call me that."

the grin slowly unfurling on gojo's lips stutters, then vanishes in the heat of the fury of your eyes. he watches your gaze roam over his face once before skittering away. your voice grows a mild tremor, "please don't call me that. i don't want to hear that nickname ever again."

the soda can nearly slips from between his fingers onto the grass below before he grasps it again, firmer this time, and tosses it upside down to empty it into his mouth. it's a brand you had introduced him to, gojo reminisces, on a day just like this... grins and squeals as you jumped in front of the vending machine, so, so joyed that it had your favourite drink.

soon after, it became the white-haired boy's favourite drink too - but no longer now. not when the fruity tang of the liquid, which endeared it to you as you claimed, tastes like the metallic clang of blood to him.

now, many might call gojo overdramatic here - you've asked him not to call you that countless times now, for fuck's sake - but many don't know you the way your friend does. in horrifying contrast to before, a note of revulsion exists in your words.

undisguised disgust paired with loathing.

sharp enough to pierce infinity, past skin, muscles, ribs and layers of tissues and chains, into that stupid organ strumming melancholic rhythms now, your name bleeding raw from its walls.

superfluous, some might scoff - but they'll have never known there's a dark side to love, the one gojo's traversing now. though... the young sorcerer muses, finishing the drink and sending it into the trash can with a flick of his cursed energy, they'll never have known you. they'll never have known the degree to which the boy adores you, either.

a strong whoosh of wind hits the two of you, carrying the smell of wet earth with it. a sign of the arrival of your favourite season, your friend absently notes as he looks back at you.

the tip of your nose appears flushed red.

"and may i know why?"

shock brims your gaze at the soft question. gojo watches you cough up a strained chuckle. "i knew you to be more assertive. demanding. never thought you could request for an explanation... what changed, 'to-" you still for a beat, then continue, burning another bridge, same as the boy feared an instant too early, "i mean, gojo-senpai?"

"you're the best person to answer that," the mentioned person replies with lips forming a gentle curve. yes, the limitless user's always been one hell of a self-assured person - it comes free with the package of receiving god-like treatment by most from before you can crawl - but there exist times when all that - the fight, the zeal, the energy - every one of those just ebbs away from his body, rendering him the hapless spectator, and victim, to the car crash.

except a car crash might hurt less than the careless sneer you shoot his way, coupled with an eye roll. you never gave him such a look in the past, before you went back home for the vacation. just what-

"i think you know why i called you here, yeah?" you ask, picking the bag up and pushing it towards him. the things inside it rattle; the boy wonders if you even went through those two books he sent you. they were from the series you had babbled, ranted and gushed to him on for hours on end on numerous occasions, once upon a time.

gojo nods briefly, though doesn't spare it even a glance. it doesn't go past your notice, he notes, given the way your eyes jump from him to his gifts, then to your fiddling fingers. "well, that's one box ticked off," you say, "and as for the other-"

"i know that too; you need not say every fucking thing out loud," your senpai cuts you off with a mirthless inflection to his tone, eyes falling down onto his sneakers. it was a gift from you on his last-

bloody hell, why does everything have to be a sore reminder of you?

"not saying it out loud doesn't make it any less real," your quiet voice tears through his thought, and he looks up. hoping, desperately so, a tender smile is waiting on your features, reserved for him - only to see every hope of his get dashed into the dirt by your frown.

his best friend was right. gojo's pathetically down for you.

a thunder rumbles in the distance.

you continue, "but since you've asked me not to, i guess i won't. that's the least i can do-"

"but what went wrong?" the question hurtles past the confines of his mouth into the stormy air. and, for once, gojo decides not to conceal the moisture in his eyes behind his shades. removing the eyewear, he moves to sit right beside you, approaching to take your hand in his.

you jerk away from him.

as if you were fire and he, water.

as if you were sun and he, non-luminous scarred moon threatening to eclipse your joy.

the white-haired boy retracts his hand away. you glance at him once before averting your gaze away. he watches you clench your hands in a tight fist. "nothing was wrong, senpai," you mumble; gojo bites his lower lip to keep it from wobbling, "but there's always something tiny wrong in everything going right, ya know? i just feel we outgrew our phase of being friends."

the growl of thunder sounds closer this time. a drop of water lands on his thigh - the sorcerer doesn't bother to know if it is his eyes or those clouds above which finally welled over. voice thickening and breaking, a scoff leaves him, "you know, as well as me, that's the lamest excuse ever. and you called us being friends, right?" you take a moment then nod weakly. a pained sigh leaves him, "then what happened to being open with each other, hm? i thought we kept no secrets from each other."

the boy watches you keep your gaze stubbornly trained on the grass beneath. something within him breaks.

"c'mon, don't play dumb," gojo urges, plopping down onto the object of your attention, just so he can have a better view of your face. you face away with a frown. he prompts you again, hints of helplessness sneaking in between his words, "c'mon, shortie. don't look away with the shitty reason of us outgrowing our phase of friendship. we were - no, are the closest. you know, right? that you can tell me any-"

"not everything's meant to remain the same always, senpai!" the loud exclamation leaves your mouth. gojo stills and so do you. his eyes fall on the way you wring your hands once before stuffing them into your hoodie's pockets.

it isn't oversized on you, the realisation clicks into place in his mind.

you let out an exhale through your mouth, then pin him down with eyes teeming with what seems like weary distaste.

"can you please get up? you're creating an unnecessary scene right now."

if your words weren't enough, it's the way you utter them that leaves cracks and fissures in him. one more blow, and the boy's sure he'll be blown away into smithereens - an outcome he's trying to avoid [but knows, can't; every piece of armour he dons turns flimsy before you].

"is it 'cause you tended to my injuries then?" he asks. your lips strain into a line. casting him a sideways glance, you shake your head, "i'm many things but a liar ain't in the list, senpai. when i cared for you, it was from my heart. when i no longer wanna associate with you-"

a dark shadow falls over your features. rising from the bench, you shift your gaze skywards and back on him, "it'll rain pretty soon. you should get back inside."

there's something between summer evenings and you and him, gojo muses as he peers up at you.

it was a summer evening when you first came to visit the boy at this school.

it is a summer evening when you're turning your back on him in this same old school.

with the glaring exception of there being the warmth of your form beside him then versus the gnawing chill you're leaving behind now.

"you never completed your sentence," gojo points out, whispering.

[too loud and the sorcerer fears, the last interaction between the two of you will end as a horrid yelling match. besides, you like things with happy endings, don't you? he'll be sure to give you your happy ending as the last gift.]

you send a restrained twitch of lips his way. "i remember being asked not to say every fucking thing out loud, senpai."

a shaky smile is the only thing he finds he can muster in return, at the moment.

"suguru said you're leaving for your home tonight again," the student says, getting up from the ground and moving closer to, yet too far a distance from you. "don't drive with the windows down, okay? the weather's bad, you might catch a cold."

a muscle in your jaw twitches. the valley between your brows furrows.

gojo lets his smile widen a bit. so shallow. so hollow.

"don't worry," he says, "i'm taking this as seriously as you want me to. it's just that..." trailing off, the boy takes a step away. your feet move an inch towards him before you immediately withdraw them. a small mimicry of a laugh leaving him, gojo fixates his gaze on the iridescent colour of your irises.

"i've always seen you as someone way more than a mere childhood friend, y'know? and no matter what you say or do, i can never and will never stop seeing you the same way. i love you that much, short- oh! sorry, i'm not supposed to call you that, am i?."

a beat passes, then another, and another.

your response comes out as a garbled mess of letters and tears. "you're the worst person ever, 'toru. i hate you."

and with that and not another glance wasted anywhere, you whirl on your feet and dash back to the school.

leaving behind the echo of your words ringing in gojo's ears, louder than the thunder of the lightning crashing on a tree a little away.

|6/6| this isn't really a way. if you're at this step, just fuckin' stop and retreat. your crush won't ever notice you – you sad, pathetic loser.

"is that what you really think?"

gojo wonders if a momentous occasion as the one now deserves one brawl thrown into it or not. it won't be anything much; just dumping a bowl of soup down suguru's shirt and/or landing a pretty solid kick to his stomach and/or-

"careful, senpai or you might've to go home, bloody and beaten," the most monotone voice ever possible crashes into his thoughts in the worst possible way. a snicker, far too familiar, joins in. "yeah, nanami's right. besides, we haven't even clicked a pic yet. you wouldn't want to wear a black eye in it, would you?"

clinking his glass with shoko's, the white-haired watches suguru gulp down a shot of tequila, then give a mighty firm shake of his head. "no, of-fucking-course not. today is our dearest kouhai's important day; i don't wanna get involved in any drama now; though..." trailing off, the black-haired boy shoots gojo an awfully obvious side-glance before a look shared with the others.

the boy lets his eyes wander away from them. an abominably sharp acrylic nail pokes him in the cheek. gojo exhales a sigh, so exhausted.

were it just a day, the boy's certain to the hell and back, that he would have whipped up a snarky insult to the stink-eye aimed his way. the boy would have slapped his drunk classmate's hand away, calling her sense of fashion the worst names possible.

gojo, however, decides to resort to neither today. he decides to settle for a sigh - the second in the last minute, longer and wearier than the one before - and rests his face into the hollow of his palms, screwing eyes shut.

an exasperated grumble - or two, maybe - permeates the air.

"gojo senpai," the words ring out in a tone far too soft and worried. he muses he doesn't need to look to see the sympathetic frown haibara must be wearing, nor the varying degrees of pity and concern etched into the others' features. a warm hand squeezes his shoulder slightly.

haibara continues, "geto senpai is not entirely wrong, y'know? yes, of course, implying you might kick up drama is sorta wrong, i admit so. but otherwise... you could've tried to, i don't know, somehow find out the reason behind her sudden distance from you?"

opening his eyes, gojo twists to face his kouhai, ready to interrupt him, but stops at the earnestness in his gaze. "turning into a recluse or moping around isn't gonna solve anything, senpai. it's been more than a month since then and from what little i've seen, i can say it's eating the both of you alive. you, way more than her. so, go, speak with her," he urges him with a smile, "the others are not very well at showing their emotions but trust me when i say, we all are worried for you both, senpai."

the white-haired boy drags his gaze away from the speaker. suguru gives him a smile, shoko pokes him in the cheek again, nanami offers a fleeting impression of something smiley before looking away with a grimace.

gojo's eyes flit back to the encouraging boy before.

"okay," the upperclassman relents with a sigh, which instantly grows into a frown the moment every piece clicks into place in his mind and the goggles-wearing boy swears his heart skips a beat, "but what did you say about seeing shortie and know-"

stopping in the middle of the question, the boy stiffens.

three glasses shatter on impact with the floor, freed from the waiter's grasp, soon followed by two maids screeching your name in the most terror-struck voice ever manageable. gojo's six eyes provide him with enough details as always; albeit it seems miles from enough now, the way it always is in your case, further deepening the sorcerer's need to physically see you once; to soak in the brilliance of your gaze and the sweetness of the curve of your lips once.

who knows if he'll ever see you again from as close as- okay, no, wait-

"did you just run all the way here-"

"i love you."

"-in your heels?"

everything falls silent the moment the last word leaves gojo's lips and a shuddered breath escapes him into the bittersweet fragrance of the citrus perfume he remembers you using. in a lilac dress with a messy hairstyle and diamond studs, the youngest and newest leader of your clan stands before him, cheeks stretched in a wide grin.

whirling his seat round completely, the boy gives you one long look, only to earn a hauntingly soft look in return.

you smile.

"i know you might see me as the most inconsistent, lying, crazy bitch at best or as the most opportunistic bitch ever, trying to seduce you, for lack of a better term, to satisfy her craving for power, at worst; but no matter how you see me, how others see me, how i see myself - i'm in love with you, that's one thing which won't change no matter what."

you pause.

and as he watches you catch your breath after that long as hell sentence para, the first realisation which crashes on gojo's otherwise numb brain is: you too haven't changed.

not. one. bit.

from the way you stick to your minimal makeup look; to the way you speak sans any break and curse yourself as you confess to something (you think you did) wrong; to the way your gaze remains fixed on him, acutely trained on even the mildest twitch of his facial muscles... one whole month has passed since that stormy evening yet you're still the same you.

a little sweet. a little sour. a whole lot perfect-

who loves him-

who loves him-

you. love. him. too.

for the first time in an apparent eternity, gojo feels his lips lift in a free smile. although the chuckle leaving him sounds laden with moisture and emotions.

"i'll die before calling you a seductress, shortie," the boy says, "you're way too dumb and naive for that." your eyes move to the girl drinking beside him for a second, before settling back on him, a light sheen in them. smile widening yet growing a tender quality, he goes on to say, "and i know you aren't a liar; but regarding the inconsistent claim... i think an explanation's long overdue, isn't it?"

you huff a mild chuckle. stuffing your hands into your dress pockets, your senpai watches you draw in a long breath before letting it out in a whoosh, a tiny smile nestling in the corner of your lips. you begin.

"you know, right, my eldest brother was the clan leader before me? y'know, after my father just decided, one fine day, he's growing old and so he wants to retire somewhere peaceful now, with my mom, leaving me in the care of takeshi nii-chan and his wife?"

four pairs of eyes switch to him in silent query. ignoring them, gojo nods. it isn't everyday you speak so openly of your family, especially this topic concerning them.

considering how painful and sore it is for you.

how big of an escapist your father is.

how big of an asshole your brother is.

how utterly difficult it is for you to navigate in this household daily.

your sigh interrupting his thoughts, he hears you continue, "well, all was going well until it was not; and i decided i'd already spent too much time being a spectator to my life and future keeping getting kicked around like a fucking soccer ball."

few gasps sound in the vicinity, undoubtedly at you cussing. nanami's smooth voice cuts in through their shocked surprise, and through the bubble, gojo was under the impression, he and you had slipped into.

judging from the tiny start you give, the white-haired boy surmises you too must have felt the same.

your classmate's solemn voice sounds in the hush, though traces of a hesitation can still be found in it when he asks, "they... didn't arrange a wedding for you in the month you were here... did they?"

"they did," you're quick to answer, voice growing a steely quality, "the higher-ups and my brother decided to get me engaged to-"

"to whom?"

gojo's lips quirk up at the way you roll your eyes at suguru's impatient question, then look at him, a tired smile creeping onto your features. but, hey! is that a tinge of shyness on your face that the boy can see?

you point your chin at him. "to 'toru, who else?"

the second (or maybe, the third) bout of silence would have followed this statement of yours too - if not for the cackling girl beside gojo. the latter makes no effort to conceal his irritation, shooting the most vicious glare ever; shoko simply raises her glass, as if in a toast, then tosses you a smirk.

"you love him, still you don't wanna get hitched with him? not very clever of you, yeah?"

"yeah," haibara chips in, albeit much less teasing and more a worried timbre than shoko, the shades-wearing boy deems. the other student continues, brows creasing together, "plus, i doubt gojo senpai saying no to the proposal. so, why didn't you go ahead with it?"

your head tilts to one side. your lips twitch in a knowing fashion.

"you just said the reasons yourself, yu-kun."

years later, if someone asks gojo when's the time he realised he's in love with you, too deep and too far gone to ever consider anyone but you by his side, as his other and undoubtedly better half, the sorcerer will grin the goofiest grin ever and sigh the dreamiest sigh ever, and say, "every day."

which is the truth, really-

yet, from those 'every day'-s, there exist few such days, whom the six-eyes user's brain subconsciously frames in a golden frame and places on a dust-free pedestal.

for instance, today.

a day your senpai dreaded to begin by leaving the comfort of his bed, knowing the person whose ascension to the metaphorical throne he has been invited to witness today, blood chilling and condensing into tears on his lashes as memories from long ago and not-so-long-ago hurtle into his brain.

only to morph, by evening, into the day the boy realises: love isn't just what made him switch his infinity off and pull you under him, a shield to protect you from the crumbling roof, forgetting everything except your safety and life; but love is also what made you push him and the emotions within yourself away.

forgetting everything - the boy knows from knowing you these many years - except your very evident aim of shielding him from the vicious schemes of those responsible for this damned jujutsu hierarchy.

no matter how easy and rewarding the other path would've been for you.

no matter how difficult and painful this current path must've been for you.

just 'cause you love him.

just 'cause you know, at the end of it all, he's going to be safe, away from the manipulating hands of the higher-ups - away from even the slimmest chance of experiencing a shred of the ordeals you suffered as a child, losing your free will and living as a mere puppet, subject to those old geezers' whims and fancies.

the two of you are not-too-near to the threshold of adulthood; still, through those unsure lenses of transition between immaturity and maturity, gojo feels sure this very moment that his eyes are viewing now - of watching his feelings being reciprocated not only in words (which, he knows, are true; your body language is as familiar to him as the back of his hand) but also in actions - so pure, so selfless, so utterly... loving-

the boy reckons his six eyes have never landed on a sight so ethereal and just so good, that it makes his heart want to burst right out of his chest.

drinking in the way you're regarding him, fingers fidgeting and teeth gnawing on your lower lip, gojo cracks a smile.

your restlessness abates a little.

"you became the clan leader just to make sure this story remains ours and only ours, didn't you?"

you take a moment before answering with a big nod.

"yeah," you say, "but that doesn't mean you need to be grateful to me or anything of the sort. you can give me any answer you want to give. you can also give me no answer, now or ever, if that's what you really want to do. just know that i love you, and that your answer can never really put a dent in it, no matter what it is."

"no matter what it is?" your senpai echoes your words back to you. a small nod is what you send in reply; yet it seems to be more than the quantity of oil required to set the cogs of gojo's brain whirring to life and mischief. eyes narrowing, he asks, "not even if my response is an 'i love you too, shortie', hm?"

the clock in the room ticks thrice.

two known voices mutter curses behind him.

five maids of yours scurry out the door, whispering excitedly.

you narrow your eyes back at him.

"i asked you to not feel pressured, didn't i? tell me what you want to say, 'toru," you say; his name in your mouth sounds sweeter than the sweetest mochi the boy's ever tasted, "and not those stuff you think i want to hear you say."

your statement draws an amused chortle from gojo. "did you really forget what i told you last that day, shortie? or did you not again not understand what i was telling you then?"

"what's there to not understand in that!?" your indignant reply arrives without missing a beat, "you said you've always seen me as way more than a childhood friend: true 'cause we're best friends. then- oh yeah," with a click of your fingers, you add, face steeped in contemplation, "you also said- oh."

"yep, oh," gojo nods his head in an exaggerated fashion, revelling in the way you're looking at him right now, eyes round as saucers and cheeks ruddy as the expensive wine being served now.

you still seem so beautiful to him.

it takes a pinch more than a while before you breathe out a breathless giggle. straightening in his seat, gojo feels his cheeks hurt a bit from the wide smile digging indents into them.

"you really lo-"

"ma'am, the guests for the evening party will be here very soon. you should get ready now," one of your maids interrupts you. the sorcerer feels his smile shrivel a little. you're barely back with him; yet you'll be stolen away from him-

"aw, is it so?" your entertained query cuts in through his thoughts. the boy looks up from his shoes his gaze had moved to before, to you, an awfully fake apologetic smile lighting up your face.

gods, why do you look so fucking kissable when you're like this?

"you know what, the people invited aren't really the kind i want to talk to and ruin my mood. besides, i've already met 'my' guests, so..." the boy watches you inch closer to him slowly as you trail off; your maid's eyes narrow before widening. you grin. "toodles, mrs. matsui!"

that and the salute you throw at everyone in the room are the last two memories clear in gojo's mind, before everything turns into a mush of everything yet nothing in the end.

well, barring a few exceptions, of course.

your contagious chortles, for instance, while you both dash down the hallways of your mansion; or your delighted gasp when he wraps his arms round you and warps to that patisserie in nikko; or your million-watt-bright beam to him, as you slap the latter's sneaky hands away from stealing a bite from your plate, whilst the latter declares this to be where you two will celebrate the future milestones; or the-

"ieiri senpai was right, y'know?" your tired voice cuts in through your senpai's rather-muddled recollections. the latter tears his gaze away from the inky-black night sky dotted by the twinkling lights of tokyo, to your drowsy form resting her head on his chest, his one arm tight around your shoulders, while the other rests behind his head on the cold hood of the car.

moving to brush the strands of hair away from your forehead, the boy presses a kiss to the tip of your nose, earning a sweet kiss to his chin in return, and hums, "not really the person i wanna chat about right now with my girlfriend..." you suddenly twist your body towards him, throwing an arm over his stomach and nuzzling into his neck; making a mental note to address you as that more often, he sighs. "but carry on, i guess. you won't be you if you can't gush about that damn shoko every third sentence or something."

planting your lips to his jaw for a mere second, gojo watches you pull away an inch from him, grinning. "senpai said you'll be the first one to confess but i'll be the one who makes things official and public and all that shit," you explain, then gasp, grin turning wider.

"oh my god," you mutter, "geto senpai and iori senpai are gonna lose so much money to her. them two never thought you could ever say 'i love you' to me, did you know that? oh my god... i kind of feel bad for those two."

the gleeful expression you're wearing tells your boyfriend otherwise - choosing to ignore it, he throws you a smirk. "well, i don't. those two people shouldn't have doubted me. i'm the one and only gojo satoru," he proclaims, puffing his chest out a bit, "of course, I'll be successful in my mission of getting you to notice my love for you."

"nah, i don't think so," you shake your head the very next instant. lips into the most adoring curve he's ever seen on you - something which steals his retort away from him and makes him want to pinch his arm hard, to see if he's dreaming or not - you hum.

"you could confess your love to me, not 'cause you're gojo satoru. but because you're my 'toru and i'm your shortie... isn't it so?"

gojo thinks back to the time utilised in carefully drafting and finalizing the steps via which he can catch your eye, only to watch them not go the way planned.

gojo looks back to you, only to find your eyes trained on him, glitters of love in them unbelievably similar to those loud crackers bursting in his chest right now.

the young sorcerer runs a reverent finger down the side of your face.

"yeah, it is because you're my shortie and i'm your 'toru, sweetness," he whispers, "and we'll always stay this way, yeah?"

you reply by engraving the shape of your smile into his.

AND MY MAGNUM OPUS IS OVER, BESTIES!!! 🥳🥳😊

tysm once again for always showing me sm love and support, y'all 🥹🥹🥹 i cherish each and every one of u so so SO MUCH - plesae keep supporting me and my works the same way in the future too, my loves 🥹🥹❤️

masterlist

[demigodpolls]

calling all PJO fanfic readers!

In the interest of acknowledging great works by fandom writers, DemigodPolls is going to share a big year-end collection of 2024 Percy Jackson fanfic recommendations! In the comment section below or on this AO3 post, leave recommendations for the best PJO fanfics you've read - but there is one major rule: they MUST have been published or last updated in 2024! No exceptions! Reblogs are turned on, but please do NOT leave your recommendations in the reblogs/tags! They will not be considered! Before commenting, make sure that you read the additional specifications below the cut first. If you have nothing to recommend, please do reblog to help support fandom writers and spread the word! Thank you!!!

What we want:

strong grammar

strong writing skills

accurate/interesting depictions of PJO characters

angst/romance/drama/adventure/friendship/character studies/etc

accurately tagged stories (i.e. stories that don't surprise you with untagged triggering content)

stories written with love for the percy jackson universe and its characters

What we DON'T want:

stories that were published/last updated before 2024

stories about ships that would be age-inappropriate in canon, unless the characters are CLEARLY aged up in the story (e.g. no olympians x teenage characters, unless the younger character is explicitly an ADULT when they first meet in the fanfic)

stories that contain non-c*n, inc*st, p*dophilia

stories under 1000 words

stories that fall under "character x everyone"

stories about original characters (stories that contain some OCs in non-protagonist roles are fine, character x reader/self-inserts are fine)

stories that bash other ships/characters (i.e., don't recommend percabeth fics that bash rachel/perachel)

stories that contain non-PJO crossovers (except for RRverse crossovers, i.e. pjo + tkc is fine, toa alone is fine, tkc alone is not, pjo + harry potter is not)

stories that contain gore/extreme violence/extreme bodily harm

stories that contain cheating/infidelity (I just don't want to read those, sorry)

dialogue-only fanfics/texting-only fanfics

stories that contain W*TTG sp0ilers

can I recommend multiple things?

yes! just make sure to categorize them correctly under the relevant prompts.

can I recommend my own story?

yes, but you are highly, highly encouraged to simultaneously recommend at least one other fanfic that you yourself did not write - let's spread the love! (not required)

is smut okay?

yes! but you must specify clearly that the story contains smut in your comment, and please don't use explicit/overly sexual language in your recommendation. I also reserve the right to refuse to consider stories that contain k*nks I don't want to engage with. (ab0, hardcore bd$m, parental name k*nk to name a few)

are non-english fanfics okay?

you are absolutely welcome to recommend non-english fanfics to others in the comments! but I will not be able to put them on the final recommendation list, because I only speak english and I cannot personally vet their contents, cannot observe their grammar, and could be terribly misled by a translator. I'm very sorry! however, if you would like to put together a similar recommendation collection of non-english stories, I'd be happy to promote it on this blog.

is percico okay?

someone asked about this specifically, so here's my stance: percico is a controversial pairing due to the debated inappropriateness of the canon age gap (approx. 3 years). I personally consider 3 years between minors to be juuust beyond my comfort zone (2 years), so please respect my decision to abide by my own comfortability and refuse to consider stories that feature age gaps of this size or larger involving minors. however, you can recommend percico fics where the age gap is explicitly made smaller, or fics where nico and percy are both explicitly adults! this same rule applies to any other ship in a similar circumstance - check the wiki for canon ages if you're unsure! (and to be clear, this is solely about ages, not about the individual merit of the pairing itself. respectfully - this is me drawing a boundary about what I am comfortable with, so do not argue with me on this topic).

is caleo okay?

this pair is even more controversial nowadays, so here's my stance when it comes to weird magical circumstances: within the logic of the pjo universe, some things that seem strange from a mortal perspective are standard within the books. i.e., it's not weird to date fellow demigods, even if the person you're dating is technically your aunt/uncle/cousin/etc. likewise, it's not "weird" for a teenager to date an immortalized or de-immortalized teenager, because... I genuinely don't know, that's just how the book logic works. for that reason, caleo works are accepted. we're going to apply this same logic to pairs like theyna, which could also potentially have murky circumstances (although I do consider thaluke to be especially iffy, because it heavily depends on the situation that people write them in - so if you're unsure, go ahead and submit it, and I'll use my best judgement from there). however, I cannot begin to express my extreme disinterest in discourse about immortal dating ethics - like, I would rather do anything else. not trying to be sassy here, but I'm going to ask you guys to not pick a fight about these topics, for the simple reason that I have zero interest in debating over situations that could never occur in real-life.

are incomplete/discontinued stories okay?

yes! I'd prefer stories that have at least three chapters, but this is not required. completed one-shots are also fine!

If someone already recommended a story that I like, should I vouch for it?

if you would like to, then absolutely!! you can respond to the appropriate prompt from this account in the comments, or you can reply to the person making the recommendation. just make sure to explicitly state which story you're advocating for.

Comments that do not follow these guidelines may be deleted!

How to make recommendations:

There are two places in which you can make your recs! You can click here to leave them on an AO3 mirror of this post, or do so in the comment section below. If the latter, continue reading. Please leave the story name, author username, story rating, main ship, and main characters in your comments - and if you'd like, definitely add some words about why you like it! AO3 direct links are not necessary, but super appreciated. But if it's not on AO3, please ensure that you make clear where exactly I can locate the story. In the comments below, you'll see comments that you can reply to, sorted by ships/lack thereof. Please sort your recommendations by replying to them accordingly (i.e. if you want to recommend 2 solangelo fics and 1 valgrace fic, leave the 2 solangelo recs under the solangelo prompt, then do the same in the valgrace prompt). You MUST explicitly state somewhere if the fanfic contains smut. If you're not sure where to put your recommendations, make your best guess - but absolutely do NOT intentionally mis-categorize your recommendations (i.e, if the pair is not canon, do not put it in the canon pairing section. Seriously. This makes things much more difficult for me while organizing fics, and I'll probably delete your comment anyway.) Lastly, please be mature about shipping. Nothing irritates me more than fighting about percy jackson ships in 2024. If you see fanfics recommended about pairings (or characters!) that you hate, do the mature thing and just scroll past it/do not engage. Character hate and ship hate is not tolerated on this blog. I am very serious about this - if you are starting a fuss about ships/characters, your comments will be deleted and your account will be permanently blocked. Respect your fellow fandom-mates! I will do my best to moderate this comment section, but before looking through them, please understand that I am not responsible for your individual well-being, and there may be fanfic recommendations that are not appropriate for minors/might contain triggering content/etc.

Here's a little form for those of you who find this easier to use, but you don't have to use it!! However, PLEASE do include the following information in your comment regardless:

story name: author: rating: ship: main characters: additional comments (what's it about? why do you like it? etc):

Don't forget, fanfics published/last updated in 2024 only!

Thank you so, so much for participating! The collection won't be published on this blog until late December, so until then, take your time, check those bookmarks, and read new PJO fanfics! Much love to all of you ♡

- demigodpolls

(art by @viria)

(dividers by @cafekitsune)

[polonium-snap]

Fic rec for your bkdkbk post-canon woes

Now that MHA is over I've been satisfying my bkdkbk needs with fics like one does, so I made this fic rec of the best fanfics I've read over the past few months. Unintentionally most of them are rated E, idk why, if you want more fics, feel free to check my ao3 bookmarks, I have over 1000 bkdk fics bookmarked

DISCLAIMER: Please check the tags and warnings thoroughly before reading any of the fics here

Multichapter:

You Gave Me Purpose, Kacchan by wowschreave | Rated T | Post-canon

The first in what I call the "Post-canon holy trinity" I've already talked about this one so much but I'll do it again because this is THE post-canon fic, plus it has amazing, beautiful, wonder-who-made-this-masterpiece ART lol

promises kept by gabstar | Rated E | Post-canon | BKDK

The second instalment of the Post-canon trinity, starring co-depended BKDK which is one of my favorite flavors

Count to Infinity by socksasgloves | Rated T | Post-canon | BKDK

The completion of the holy trinity with more Post-canon goodness because it's what I crave on a cold night

The night we decided to be brave by Albipepo | Rated E | BKDKBK | Accidental parents

I love this one so much, I hated both of them for being stupid half of the time but it's so so worth it

i'm not myself when i'm without you by YunaTuna | Rated M (but I would rate it E) | Possesive BKDK

This one is so interesting and dark, I'm obsessed with possessive Deku and this hits all the right marks and more

And the world went still by Saiyasha | Rated E | BKDK | (temporary) Mayor Character Death | Established relationship

GUT-WRENCHING, this one hits so hard, I nearly died, but it thankfully has a happy ending

Kacchan vs the Internet by palavering | Rated T | Soc Med

This one is not complete but read it read it please it's so good, and the social media aspect is so peak, like I can rave for hours on how well the author uses CSS

Baby Bottles and Blushing Faces by derDschungelderRosen | Rated T

Baby Project is a classic but I adore this take on the idea so much, plus it's hilarious

keep the rain by gheemin | Rated T | Post-canon

I adore how introspective this one is, it also overwhelmed me with feels

Fake it, 'till you make it. by Princess_ofPizza | Rated M| Charades

Drinking games are always bad ideas, unless you're bkdk in which case carry on

Inhibitionless by Sonday | Rated E | Quirk shenanigans

Horny quirks are the best

You Had Me From the Start by bellbloom | Rated E| BKDK| Artist x Bartender AU

As an artist myself Artist!Izuku scratches an itch I didn't know I had

A Starving Artist's Success by StevieBanks | Rated M | BKDK | Artist x Fashion designer AU

Which is why I have two fics with artist Deku, also kind of a meet-cute

Unraveled by omicroncet | Rated M | BKDK |

Three words; sleep deprived Izuku

One-shots:

love in the making by Kacchdeku | Rated G | Post-Canon | BKDK

Third-wheel Kota is the best

Sturdy Heart by lurethegalaxy | Rated T | Post-canon| Established Relationship

Angsty but so so so good

pacemaker by passengerside | Rated T | Post-war | Canon-compliant

The pacemaker scene has me dead, ascending, AND there's art?!!

The Eight Years Between by Loriqod | Rated T | Post-canon | Established relationship

I love when fics fill in the gaps of the canon content

Embers by UglyGreenJacket | Rated T | Post-canon | angst with a happy ending | Established relationship

My poor baby Izuku needs a hug, thankfully Katsuki is there to give it to him

king of hearts by nikkiRA | Rated E | Quirk shenanigans

This quirk is so creative and cute and I love that it also includes their other classmates reactions

crepe date by isidium | Rated T | Fluff

'Cause we all think about that one crepe comment Izuku made one (1) time and so does Katsuki

chasing the rabbit by mimiwrites | Rated T | Amnesia

Even more Quirk shenanigans because those are always so fun

love is a labour (i'll slave til the end) by nikkiRA| Rated E| Omegaverse| DKBK

I love LOVE Omega! Katsuki and you can take him from my cold dead hands

Talk After Talk by beanbeanrose | Rated T | Post-war

This is just them talking but i love it so much

GG by MajestyTime | Rated T | Crack treated seriously

This one is all over the place but in a good way, it played off as a laugh but it has a very interesting what-if scenario

If I'm Being Honest by Queen_of_the_Otakus | Rated M | Truth serum (kinda)

Forced truth situations are so funny because it's never that deep but everyone still freaks out

Thanks for reading!!! Hope you guys like the fics I chose

[fordtato]

Emergency commissions/donations to help me move!

Hey all! I'm in a tough financial spot with a very unexpected $1000 move-out fee, and I need some help!

So I am offering fic commissions AND background/landscape art - That's right, writing AND art, for the prices below! I also will accept donations, but I feel more comfortable offering art, etc.

Donations:

I will accept donations if you just wanna help out! If you'd like to pay for a commission, keep scrolling.

If you would just like to donate without a commission, here is my Ko-Fi!

Fanfiction commissions:

Won't write:

fandoms I know nothing about (DM me if you'd like something outside of Gravity Falls work, though I'm sure that's where most of my following is)

gore

any type of thing that would get me cancelled on twitter dot com (come on guys, im a YouTuber now)

Will write:

Just about anything else tbh. OCs, melodrama, angst, hurt-comfort, you name it.

NSFW (for adult customers only. im not writing this for teenagers. do your homework)

Rates: $25 per 1k words, with a 150 word buffer. (Meaning, if I write 1150 words, I'm not charging you extra, it'll still be $25)

Send an ask or a DM if you are interested!

Note: I will not be posting these on Ao3, due to Ao3's "no money for fics" rules.

Examples of my fics, if you want to check out my work:

Note: Jersey Boy is my oldest fic (literally 8 years old and still going). The first couple chapters are pretty rough imo. The latter chapters are more in line with my capabilities. Also, yes, this fic is still being written, it's just being written between jobs and between work on YouTube vids, and I have less available time for it than I used to. Pay me to finish more of Jersey Boy (/s)

Background art commissions:

So, 90% of the artists I know tell me that background/environment art is one of the parts of the process they dislike the most. But it's actually my favorite thing to draw!

I actually don't feel comfortable enough in my drawing of characters to feel good about charging people for those, but I think I can consistently do some background art!

Examples of my art/pricing below!

Simpler color palette/lighting, and fewer details: $20-30

More detailed digital paintings: $40-50

For anymore detail then what you see above, we'll have to work that pricing out!

Example of heavy detail that might cost more:

Send me details on what you'd like in a digital painting and we will work out a timetable!

Send an ask or a DM if you are interested!

Donate/pay here: My Ko-Fi

I appreciate you reading, and if you can't help out, please share!

[starlightkun]

⇢ word count: 37.8k total (22.7k & 15.1k) ⇢ genre & warnings: sci-fi/science fantasy au, soulmate au, alien!jungwoo, human!reader, slow burn, fluff and angst; blood/injury mentions (but like, alien blood, if that makes a difference?), a couple needle/injection mentions, if u get secondhand embarrassment this one might hurt in places, a couple crude jokes about alien stuff iykwim (reader’s friends r kind of the worst), this fic is just a rlly sweet soulmate au i swear idk why these tags look horrendous 😭 ⇢ extra info: released in two parts bc of tumblr’s 1000-block limit that was put in place to hurt me personally :)) BUT both parts are out RIGHT NOW ⇢ author’s note: rahhh this one has ALSO been a wip for like over a year and is finally finished!!! this is technically my first sci-fi piece bc i started it before frankenstein complex, but i finished fc wayyy before this one. anyway i loveee my alien!woo and i hope y’all do too ⇢ part two

“What? Did you imprint on me like a baby duck or something?” You joked, stretching and yawning.

“I don’t know what ducks are nor the imprinting habits of their young, but yes.”

“You don’t really need to know what ducks are, but baby ducks—Wait, what?!” Your brain finally processed the rest of Jungwoo’s words, and you stared at him wide-eyed.

“Here, Y/N,” Johnny grinned at you as he pushed another seltzer into your hand. “You’re a bit too sober, kid.”

“Thanks, dude,” you beamed back, popping open the tab one-handed and taking your first swig.

All of your friends were gathered around a firepit on the beach, relaxing and celebrating another friend’s birthday—Taeyong. Said birthday boy, a notorious lightweight, was already pink-cheeked and giggly as he chatted with some of the others. Someone had apparently given Doyoung access to the Spotify playlist for the night, as a ballad suddenly came over the Bluetooth speakers that had previously been playing upbeat tunes. A chorus of groans and jeers rose up around the fire from the other eight of you, while Doyoung loudly and passionately tried to defend himself.

“Give me the phone,” Johnny waved for Doyoung to hand over Jaehyun’s phone—the one connected to the speaker.

Doyoung clutched it protectively to his chest. “No! You guys haven’t let me play any of my songs tonight!”

“Because they either make us cry or put us to sleep,” Yuta scoffed, lunging for the device, but the other man jerked it out of his reach.

“If you two break my fucking phone, you’re buying me a new one and splitting the cost,” Jaehyun warned from where he was sat on the sand next to your feet, lazily leaning his head against your knee.

“Seriously, Doyoung, give him the phone,” Mark insisted.

Doyoung reluctantly handed the phone to Yuta, who passed it along to you, who firmly planted it in Johnny’s waiting palm. “None of you have any taste—”

“I thought it was nice, D—” Taeyong was cut off by a hiccup as he went to pat your friend’s head reassuringly. “It was a nice song, Doyoung…”

“Thanks, Yonggie,” Doyoung rolled his eyes, but didn’t shove him off as Taeyong drunkenly wrapped his limbs around him in what you were sure was supposed to be a comforting hug.

As Johnny went to put on more party-appropriate music and you took another sip of your seltzer, you looked up to the sky over the water. There weren’t as many stars as you would’ve liked, and it was a new moon, so there was no silvery light to come from there either. But it was still a nice night, the air was cool, the fire warm, you were the only ones on this stretch of beach this late at night and had enough alcohol to feed a medium-sized frat.

Then, one star started glowing even brighter than the others, and you realized it was moving across the sky. “Look, guys! A shooting star.”

“Ooh, everybody make a wish!” Donghyuck chirped.

Feeling a bit silly, you closed your eyes and made your wish in your mind, then opened them again to see the shooting star getting bigger, as if it was heading towards you all.

“Hey, are shooting stars supposed to do that?” You asked no one in particular.

“I… don’t think so,” Yuta squinted at it suspiciously.

“Should we like… move?” Mark suggested hesitantly.

“They’re just meteors being burned up in the atmosphere,” Jaehyun shrugged. “Most don’t ever reach Earth.”

Except it was very much getting closer and closer, hurtling even faster through the air than before.

“But some do!” Jaehyun added, rushing to his feet. “I think we should go.”

As everybody started scrambling to pack their things, the meteor was making its final approach, and you could hear the sound of it splitting the air as it took a sudden nosedive towards shore. It finally struck with a cacophony of snapping palm trees and thunderous boom of its impact with the ground. It had thankfully missed all of you, but you could see smoke start rising out of the thick foliage where it did land. You all looked around at each other, mirrored faces of shock.

“We survived,” Donghyuck breathed out, patting his front as if he didn’t believe it. His blanket was sloppily thrown over one of his shoulders as he had one hand on the cooler.

“Dude, you thought we were all going to die, and your first instinct was to save the drinks?” Mark pointed out in disbelief.

“I’m sorry, Mr. ‘Where’s my phone?’” Your other friend retorted back. “Going to lecture me on the sanctity of human life when you were about to lose it all for your iPhone?”

As they kept squabbling, you tentatively stepped over the back of your log, towards the trees.

“Y/N?” Johnny said your name questioningly.

“Don’t you guys want to go see it?” You knocked back the rest of your seltzer. “A real-life meteor. Come on, we can all get a piece. It’ll be like, the coolest birthday party souvenir ever.”

Doyoung and Taeyong exchanged uneasy glances. Doyoung spoke up, “I don’t know, that thing was huge…”

“What? You think it was a spaceship or something?” You snickered at the idea, pulling out your phone to turn the flashlight on. “Come on, anybody who’s not a wimp. We’ll bring back enough pieces for the wimps.”

Yuta, Johnny, Jaehyun, and Donghyuck turned out to be the only ones who agreed to come with you. You led the way into the trees, following the slowly thinning smoke trail and path of destroyed palms. The impact site wasn’t very far, and when you first caught a glimpse of the hulking size of its silhouette, you were so glad it had missed. A hundred meters or so over, and all of you would have been crushed by a giant space rock, which is certainly one thing to put on your headstone. Except, as all of your individual flashlight beams shone over it, and you got to see it piece by piece, you realized it was not a meteor. It was all smooth metal, matte chrome in varying colors. A vessel of some kind. From space. A spaceship.

“Holy shit…” You breathed out.

“Oh, we should get the fuck out of here,” Jaehyun said lowly.

“Yeah, no way should first contact be made with our stupid, drunk asses,” Yuta agreed, starting to back up.

“Y/N,” Johnny grabbed your arm to try to pull you back as well, but you stood rooted to the ground. “Y/N, seriously, this is not the rabbit hole to jump down.”

“Maybe she’s figured we’ve gotten plenty of practice with aliens with Mark,” Donghyuck snickered.

You kept staring at the ship, listening to the metal creak and groan. Except those groans weren’t all metallic.

“I think someone’s in there!” You exclaimed, taking off towards it.

Johnny swore as your arm slipped from his grip, and you heard two pairs of footfalls chasing after you. You’d just managed to get a hand and a foot on the ship before a strong pair of arms grabbed you by the waist and pulled you off of it.

“Yuta, grab her hands before she claws me!” Johnny yelled from behind you.

As Yuta went to do that, you haphazardly threw out your feet that were now fully off the ground as Johnny lifted you up. You impacted with something on Yuta, who let out a long line of expletives, his hands dropping to grab something low on his own body. You blindly reached back for Johnny, grabbing a fistful of his hair with one hand and yanking hard, while the other reached under his arm to pinch a pressure point.

“Fuck!” He dropped you. “Yuta! You were supposed to—”

“She kicked me in the balls, man!” Yuta groaned back.

Knowing that you didn’t have long, you raced up the side of the ship. Banging on every panel that you passed by, you yelled out, “Hello? Somebody in there? Are you okay? Hello?”

You finally got to the top-ish of the ship, and one of the panels there felt different than the others. Almost like glass. Pounding your fist against the side of that, hoping it was the cockpit or something, you shouted into it, “Are you okay in there?”

There was another groan that echoed from inside, and it definitely sounded like a person this time. Searching for some kind of emergency release from the outside, you felt around the edge of the whole glass panel. There was no release, but you found a part of the panel that it connected to on the outer hull that had a sizeable dent, big enough for you to get your hand under. Biting your phone in between your teeth to point the flashlight at the dent, you saw that it had exposed an inner latch of some kind.

The sounds of another body climbing up the ship came to your ears, and you whipped around to look at Johnny, already holding your hands up in a defensive fighting position. You took your phone from your mouth just to threaten, “I will bite.”

“I know. Let’s just get this over with before this thing explodes or something, okay?” He held his own hands up in surrender. When you’d relaxed from your fighting stance, he came over to squat down next to you. “So, what are you thinking, kid? We need to bust that?”

“I think?”

“Alright, give me a second.” He hopped back down.

There was another low sound of pain from inside, and you bent closer to the gap as you addressed them, “Just hang in there! My friends and I are going to get you out, okay? Really soon!”

Johnny clambered back up, a large rock now in his hand. You moved out of the way for him to swing the more angled edge of the rock against the latching mechanism. After several swings, you heard a crack of metal, then he was tossing the stone aside. “Jae!” Johnny called out, your other friend joining you two a few seconds later. They each grabbed a side of the glass panel, pushing and pulling it away from the hull.

“Guys?” Donghyuck’s voice suddenly floated up to you, but from the rear of the ship. “I think you should hurry up!”

“No fucking shit!” Jaehyun yelled back, straining as him and Johnny continued battling with the ship.

“I mean, I’m not a spaceship engineer or anything, but I don’t think any of this should be on fire!”

“God dammit!” Johnny groaned. “Yuta!”

“Yep! Recovered! Coming up!” Yuta joined the fray as well, and finally, you heard the last bit of metal holding the panel down snap and give way.

They all fell down as the glass dome now rose on its own, along with a hiss of air pressure. There were dozens of lights and screens inside, all flashing red, lighting up the figure of a man on one of the two seats there. His head was lolled back, arms hanging by his sides.

“Christ, there is someone in there,” Johnny exhaled in shock.

“A fuckin’ alien,” Yuta mimicked the sign of the cross over himself.

“Wrong way, dumbass,” you scoffed, moving along the rim to get closer to the man inside. “You’re not supposed to start on your shoulders.”

“Oh, excuse me, didn’t realize I was in the presence of the Pope herself.”

You shot him another glare as you kneeled down to hook your elbows under the stranger’s arms. “Anybody going to help me?”

“The fire’s getting bigger!” Donghyuck yelled, fear pitching up his voice.

The other guys grabbed the man’s arms as well, helping you yank him up and out. He was all long, lanky limbs and dead weight, which your friends complained about to varying degrees of intensity. With a final tug, you pulled him out to the hull with you, his body flopping back onto you.

“Seriously! I can’t read alien, but I think it’s spreading to the fuel tank or something!” Your friend on the ground shouted in a panic, running around to the side where you were. “Get off there!”

Just then, the spaceman’s eyes fluttered open, and he looked at you with concern, his lips parting for a moment.

“Sorry, introductions later, your ship’s about to explode!” You said, jerking him over the side with you.

Donghyuck half-caught the two of you as you slid down the smooth exterior. Really, he just broke your landing a bit, the two of you still crashing into him at far too high of a speed to be painless, all your limbs smacking each other. The man from the ship made another groan of pain, as you and Donghyuck swore up a storm at your bitten tongues, clocked elbows, and cracked heads. The other three jumped down after you, Johnny and Jaehyun taking the stranger from your arms like they were carrying their drunk friend home from the bar. His feet dragged on the ground between them as the six of you hurried away from the ship. As you came crashing through the foliage again back to your campsite, your other friends all got to their feet to greet you.

“Took long enough!” Mark complained. “Alright, where’s our—Holy shit!”

“You found some guy?” Doyoung asked, pointing to the stranger. “Why does nothing ever go normal and fine when we let Yuta, Y/N, and Donghyuck go off together?”

Before any of you could explain, there was a loud boom from behind you, and you whipped around to see bright, glowing, molten sludge being shot into the air where you just had been. Fire lit up the trees, the night no longer feeling so cold suddenly.

“What was that?!” Taeyong rushed to your side, clinging onto you tightly.

“Spaceship,” Yuta pointed at the fireball. He then pointed at the stranger, “Alien.”

“Seriously?!” Mark’s eyes were bugging out of his head. “Like, a real UFO? What did it look like?”

“I was too busy fearing for our lives to take pictures, sorry, Mark.” Donghyuck leaned his hands on his knees as he caught his breath.

Doyoung spoke up then, concerned look focused on the man from the ship. “Uh, I think your alien’s dead.”

The spaceman was entirely slack in Johnny and Jaehyun’s grip, head hanging forward as dark droplets fell from his mouth onto the sand. You rushed over, instinctually putting two fingers to the side of his neck, where you guessed a jugular would be if he had one. Please, please, please let him have a heart, and let it be beating. He felt warm, at least, and while you couldn’t find a pulse, you didn’t know if that really meant anything. Instead, you held your fingers under his nose, relieved when you could feel a slight, repetitive exhale of breath.

“He’s breathing!” You announced with relief. A drop of his blood fell onto your hand then, and as you jerked the limb back, not entirely sure what alien blood would do to you. The fleck caught the light of the bonfire and shone blue. A dark navy blue, so dark it almost appeared black at first.

“Definitely an alien…” Yuta crossed himself again.

“Stop that!” You hissed, grabbing a half-drank bottle of water to pour the contents over your hand, washing off the alien blood. “You’d burn up if you stepped foot in a church.”

“Should we take him to a hospital?” Doyoung asked.

“No!” You cried out immediately. “They’d dissect him or something.”

“Y/N, you’re not suggesting we keep him!” Johnny regarded with you wide, incredulous eyes.

“Like a pet alien?” Donghyuck added very helpfully.

“You’re a doctor!” You argued with Johnny.

“A vet! An animal doctor! I’m not even licensed to practice medicine on humans, I wouldn’t know where to start on an alien!”

“Exactly, you don’t need a license to practice on him, he’s not human!”

“Johnny, we all know you’re going to say yes,” Jaehyun grunted, readjusting his hold on the passed-out spaceman. “Come on man, he’s getting heavy.”

“Fine! Fine! I have my kit in my car,” Johnny relented with a big sigh.

“We can take him to my place,” you immediately offered.

The distant sounds of sirens caught your attention, and you all immediately rushed to shut down the campsite. Someone doused the firepit while the speaker was shut off, and the drinks, towels, and blankets were hastily packed up. You all made a run for the cars parked up on the side of the road, as the sirens got even louder. You climbed into Johnny’s backseat before he and Jaehyun pushed the stranger back there with you, then got into the front. The others loaded up into Doyoung’s van, and the two vehicles took off with roars of engines and squeals of tires. You pulled the man’s head up into your lap, wincing as you appraised the damage. His blue blood dripped from his mouth and a significant rip in his jacket on his side. He groaned in pain but didn’t stir otherwise. Aside from the blue blood, he looked human… hopefully Johnny would be able to do something.

At your building, Johnny and Jaehyun helped you drag the spaceman up to your apartment on the third floor, and you had them deposit him on your bed. Johnny brought his travel vet kit up from the car, and together, you managed to get the shiny silver jacket off of him. Underneath, he had a fairly plain white top, which was also torn and blood-soaked. Johnny snapped on a pair of gloves before he pushed the hem up to appraise the stranger’s side, where there was a huge gash in his flesh.

“Oh, Christ, okay,” Johnny sighed, inspecting the wound. “I guess I’ll disinfect and suture it up?”

“Just do it,” you mumbled, pressing a towel to the man’s sweat-sheened forehead.

“Jaehyun, mind assisting?”

“You do know the ‘Dr.’ I put in front of my name is just decorative, right? It’s in Poetry—”

“And now you can brag to all your colleagues that you’ve done real medicine like a real doctor,” Johnny snapped back. “Disinfectant, get it.”

With Jaehyun assisting him, Johnny made quick work of patching him up. Pressing the bandages down over the site so the adhesive would stick, Johnny then disposed of his navy-splattered gloves. He grabbed a stethoscope, putting the end up against the spaceman’s chest.

“I think he’s alive?” Johnny announced. “I don’t know. If he is, he doesn’t have a heart because I’m not getting anything.”

He shifted the placement, presumably to listen to his breathing, and an even more bewildered look overtook his features. Sliding the stethoscope over to the right side of the man’s chest, he sat there for a moment, just listening.

“It’s on the other side,” he breathed out. “His heart’s on the right side.”

“But he has a heartbeat?” You clarified.

“Yeah, he does. Faint, but it’s there. He’s breathing, too. A bit shallow, but otherwise normal. I think.”

You let out a sigh of relief. “Thank God.”

“I don’t think there’s anything else I can do until he wakes up. If he wakes up.”

“Right, thank you Johnny,” you smiled wearily your friend. “I’ll call you when he wakes.”

Jaehyun and Johnny looked at each other skeptically. Jaehyun spoke up, “You’re going to stay here alone with some rando we literally pulled out of a burning hunk of metal?”

“My couch only fits one person. So unless you two are offering to sleep on the floor to protect me or whatever?”

“Call us if anything happens,” Johnny sighed, packing up all of his supplies.

“Of course,” you nodded. “Thanks, guys.”

You heard the sound of your front door clicking shut as you stayed sitting on the edge of your mattress, wiping the spaceman’s face. He really did look human, two eyes that were now shut, lashes resting on his cheeks, a nose practically just like yours, with an elegant slope to the bridge, and a pair of plush, pouty lips. He let out a soft sigh, his head rolling over towards you. But then he went silent and still again. You finished cleaning up his face as best you could, then pulled the covers up over him. Readjusting his bangs that had been stuck together by the damp washcloth you’d used, you gave a final determined nod to nobody in particular before standing up. Grabbing a change of pajamas from your dresser, you got everything you’d need from in here for the night, then went to leave.

“Alright…” You stopped at the threshold of your bedroom, looking over the spaceman’s sleeping figure one last time. “Goodnight, I suppose.”

And with that, you turned the lights out, and quietly closed the door behind you. You were sure to leave it slightly ajar, though, just in case. After taking a much-needed shower and getting ready for bed in your bathroom, you headed out to the living room. You set up a few pillows and blankets into a comfy-enough makeshift bed, then tucked yourself in. Despite the exhaustion in your muscles, the excitement of the night hadn’t worn off yet, and you laid awake for another hour just staring at your bedroom door.

Waking up in the morning to sunlight streaming in through your living room windows, you covered your eyes with a groan and rolled over to bury your face in the back cushions. The sound of your phone buzzing incessantly from the coffee table came, however, and with a guttural groan, you flopped back over to pick it up.

“Yeah?” You mumbled, not even checking the caller ID.

“Y/N?” It was Yuta on the other end.

“Who the fuck else would it be? You called me at whenever-the-fuck-in-the-morning.”

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

“Couch,” you corrected him, swinging your feet over as you sat up properly. “I slept on the couch.”

“Gave E.T. your bed? Such a kind hostess.”

The mention of your guest woke you up more. You got to your feet, shuffling towards the bedroom with a yawn. “Yeah, you know me, I’m a fuckin’ peach.”

“So how’s the…” Yuta dropped his voice to whisper into the phone, “Alien?”

The door hadn’t moved since last night, and you cautiously pushed it open to peer inside. You could see the stranger exactly where you had left him, laying on his back under your blankets, chest shallowly rising up and down. Pushing further into the room, you hesitated on whether to try to find a pulse again. You settled for trying once around his wrist, and if it didn’t work, then you’d just have to assume he was fine. Surprisingly, you found his pulse in one go, and it felt steady.

“Fine, I think,” you answered Yuta quietly, walking back over towards your door. “He’s breathing, he has a heartbeat. He’s just not… ambulatory.”

“Still passed out cold?”

“Yeah.”

“Imagine if he was in one of those comas that you don’t wake up from, and we just had to deal with this comatose alien.”

“Stop, you’re going to manifest that or something!” You hissed.

“Not manifesting, just joking.”

“You’re hilarious.”

“Anyway, some of us went back to the beach this morning, because Mark really wanted to see the UFO—”

“Don’t touch anything!”

“We couldn’t. The whole place is locked down. Couldn’t even park on the shoulder, it was swarming with cops. They were still putting out the fire.”

“Do you think any of the ship survived?”

“I have no clue. Doyoung said he’d ask his dad about it.” Doyoung’s dad was the fire chief, making your participation in the conflagration last night even more dicey.

“Tell him to call me as soon as he finds out anything.”

“I think he was already planning on that, but I’ll make sure he knows.”

“Good. Also, I’m sorry for kicking you in…” You trailed off as you turned around to see two big brown eyes staring at you from your bed. “I’ve got to go, Yuta. I’ll call you back.”

“What’s hap—” You hung up.

The spaceman was looking around the room warily, regarding you with clear suspicion.

“Hey…” You offered him a smile as you kept your tone of voice soothing and calm. “You’re alright. I’m not going to do anything to you. My name’s Y/N.”

He kept staring blankly at you, and you were starting to fear that he wouldn’t be able to understand you at all.

“You got injured, last night. On your side.”

He pulled up the hem of his shirt, looking at it himself. He tentatively touched the bandages, but didn’t rip them off. There was a small dot of dark blue that had soaked through.

“I’m going to call my friend, to look at it, okay?”

He nodded.

Quickly dialing Johnny’s number, you chewed on your thumbnail anxiously at how long it was taking him to pick up. Finally, the ringing stopped, and a confused groan came from the other end.

“Hey, Johnny,” you greeted him, relieved. Johnny made another inquisitive sound. “Yeah, he’s awake.”

You could heard Johnny make a few more noises of exertion, presumably sitting up in bed. After a yawn, sniffle, and cough (which he thankfully pointed his mic away from), he said real words. “Has he… said anything?” Your friend questioned. “Can you even understand each other?”

“No, he’s not exactly talking… Just sort of nodding. So I think he can understand me at least.”

“Alright—good Lord—I’ll be over in like, thirty.”

“That long?!”

“You woke me up! I need to brush my teeth and shit. Make that forty-five, I still reek of alcohol.”

“Fine. Hey, can you bring some clothes for him, too?”

“What?!”

“I don’t have anything that’ll fit him. You guys are about the same size. Or steal some of Jae’s, I don’t care.”

“Yeah, I’m taking Jaehyun’s. I think they’re a bit closer in size.”

“You don’t want an alien to wear your clothes.”

“Excuse me for feeling weird about that! What if he bleeds on them? I’d have to burn them!”

“So you’re volunteering your roommate’s clothes instead.”

“Well—”

“Just get over here, John.”

“Will do. See you, kid.”

“See you.” You hung up. Turning back to the alien, you announced, “My friend will be here soon. He’s just going to look you over. Are you okay? Like, does anything hurt?”

He stared at you.

“Right, those were two different questions.” You shook your head at yourself. “Do you feel any pain? Anywhere?”

He indicated to the wound on his side.

“Makes sense, you got sliced open by something there. Anything else?”

He held his hands out, and you saw that his left wrist was slightly puffier and swollen than the other.

“Oh, looks like you… sprained your wrist?” You said tentatively. You had no clue how his joints worked or if they could even get sprained like yours, but that’s definitely what it looked like.

He nodded.

“Johnny should have something for that,” you assured him. After a few beats of silence, you tried introductions again. “I’m Y/N. I know I already said that, but uh, it’d be nice to know your name, too? I’m pretty sure you can understand me, since you’ve been answering my questions, mostly. So—”

“Did you capture me, then?” He finally spoke, his voice clear but uncertain.

“What? No,” you laughed, completely caught off-guard by the question. “You’re free to go anytime you want. Your ship crashed, and my friends and I found you. I just want to help, but if you want to go right now, I won’t stop you.”

“This is… not a human hospital?”

“No, it’s not,” you chuckled again. “It’s my bedroom. We uh, we weren’t sure if we should take you to a hospital or not. Didn’t want them taking x-rays of you and finding out you had two hearts or something.”

“Just the one.”

“Yes, and it’s on the right side of your chest, right?”

He stared at you with mild alarm.

“Johnny was listening to your heart last night. Had a difficult time finding it.” You tapped the left side of your chest, right above your own heart. “Ours is usually over here.”

He licked his lips, eyes flitting around before they landed on you again, and he finally said, “My name’s Jungwoo.”

“Jungwoo?” You echoed slowly, making sure you were pronouncing it correctly.

“Yes.”

“If you’re from space, why is your name… Korean?”

“It’s not. It can’t be pronounced by humans. You’re missing a flap.” He gestured to his throat. “I suppose that’s the closest approximation that it could get.”

“It?”

“My transcoder.” He picked up the pendant hanging around his neck, a simple rhombus of flat gold metal. “It’s a translation device. That’s why we can understand each other right now. Thankfully, it didn’t get busted in the crash. I don’t speak human.”

“We don’t all speak one language, you know? We have thousands.”

“Wait, really?”

“Does your whole planet speak one language? Speaking of, where are you from?”

“I’m from far outside this galaxy. I’m not sure telling you the name of my planet would be any help.”

“It’d be interesting.”

“Galaria.”

“So you’re… Galarian?”

“Galarii.”

“Ah, I was close. Never was good at conjugation in grammar class.”

“All Galarii speak the same language, to answer your question. We have some regional dialects, but all of us can understand each other. How does your planet hold conversations, come to agreements about policy or run the government at all?”

“We don’t have one government system for the whole planet, so usually we don’t need to. Everybody who lives near each other tend to speak the same language.”

His brow furrowed and his lips pulled down into a slight frown. “Then you must all be so… separated.”

You sat down on the corner of your bed in front of him, hoping this was still a polite, conversational distance for Galarii. “I don’t think it’s so bad. People can always learn more than one language if they want, learn about other cultures.”

“How do people from those different cultures even understand each other, though? You seemed confused about my transcoder, I’m guessing you don’t have anything similar here.”

“Translators. People who learn more than one language and interpret between people who don’t speak the same language. Not to mention computer programs will usually get you the gist of something if you’re in a hurry or don’t have access to a more authentic source.”

“How many governments do you have, then? Two? Three?”

You burst into laughter at the idea. “Sorry, sorry, I’m not laughing at you. It’s just… well, to spare you from any degree of human politics, let’s say there’s a debate about how many countries we even have, but people usually say about 200.”

“Two hundred?! How do you get anything done?”

“Very slowly,” you snickered, hiking a leg up onto the side of the bed to get comfier. “So, how does your transcoder work, exactly? Like, how is it getting in my brain? Because watching you talk, it looks like you’re saying the words I’m hearing, but you can’t be.”

“Low-level, short-range telepathic wave.”

“Telepathic?!”

“I’m not sure what word it’s picking to translate, but you seem very shocked.”

“For us, telepathy is magic. It’s a superpower, it’s not real.”

“I can assure you, this all has very sound science behind it. Though I’m more of a pilot than a neuroscientist, so I can’t really explain it...”

“Really good pilot, too. Spectacular landing,” you joked, crossing your fingers that Galarii understood sarcasm.

He seemed to, as he let out a cynical chuckle. “Not my finest work.”

“So what happened that made you crash in the first place?”

“Political assassination.”

“Excuse me?!”

“Attempted murder?” Jungwoo tried another phrase, looking down at his transcoder as if inspecting it for damage.

“Am I harboring a space fugitive right now?”

“No, I’m not on the run from anywhere. I was taking a joyride when suddenly the engines began failing. I presume it was meant to look like an accident. I’ll know more after I can inspect my ship.”

“Ooh, about that,” you winced.

“What?”

“Well, it exploded, for one.”

“Yes, that’s what I figured when you told me ‘your ship is about to explode’ and then I heard an explosion.”

“So you remember some of last night!” You pointed victoriously.

“Some,” he agreed mildly. “In a couple brief bouts of consciousness I had.”

“So, yeah, it exploded, and the explosion and resulting fire drew in a lot of attention. A couple of my friends drove by this morning and the whole place is swarmed with firemen and cops still.”

“I’ll just tell them it’s my ship.”

“No.”

“They should release it to the proper owner, what would the problem be?”

“You crashed here from space in a certifiable UFO. If you walked up and say that it’s yours, if they believe you, they’d probably ship you off for dissection, shoot you on the spot, or kill you then ship you off for dissection.”

“That’s not very polite.”

“Sorry, we don’t really get a lot of alien visitors. Or any, that I’m aware of.”

“Very well,” Jungwoo sighed, looking down at his lap dejectedly.

“So we’ll have to sneak in at night.”

“What?”

“If you want to inspect your ship, we’ll have to sneak in after everybody leaves for the night. And, after they’ve put out the fires.”

“You’re suggesting breaking the law?”

“Do you have a problem with that? It’s just light trespassing, and onto a ship that’s yours anyway.”

“No, I don’t have a problem with that.” Jungwoo’s face finally cracked into a smile. “Just clarifying.”

“So… who are you?”

“I’ve told you my name and species.”

“I meant, who are you on your planet? To have somebody trying to assassinate you. Here, usually people that get assassinated are like, politicians, rulers, activists, sometimes celebrities. Ooh, I’ve got it! You’re a pop star or something!”

“No, I’m not a… musician.” The way he said the word made you think the transcoder must have had a hard time finding an equivalent word in his language.

“Actor?”

“I’m not a celebrity. Well, not how you’re suggesting, I believe.”

“Okay, because you’ve got the look.”

“Look? How am I looking at you?”

“No, I mean you’re really pretty.” You gestured vaguely to his face. “You’d fit right in on a red carpet here.”

“I think I will interpret that as a compliment.”

“Maybe,” you grinned and shrugged. “So? What are you? If you’re not a celebrity, why did someone try to kill you?”

“They weren’t trying to kill me.”

“Who were they trying to kill?”

“My brother, presumably,” he said as if this were the most obvious, natural thing in the world.

You raised an eyebrow. “You sound unperturbed by this.”

“Really, this is what I get for stealing his ship.”

“So you are a thief.”

“With permission.”

“Then it’s not stealing.”

“Just like you didn’t want to bore me with Earth politics, I won’t bore you with mine, but let’s say my brother’s very powerful and very controversial,” Jungwoo explained. “He asked that I take his ship and publicly leave the planet on it.”

“So everybody would think he left.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“So he could get some paperwork done.”

“What exactly makes him so controversial?”

“None of his policies, really. But people don’t like some choices he’s made in his personal life.”

“Sounds familiar,” you mused, thinking of a few figures on Earth like that as well. “How long was your joyride supposed to take?”

“A few days.”

“Are Galaria days similar to Earth days?”

“I… am not sure.”

“Cool. So what’s going to happen if you don’t come back on time?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve run away,” he admitted. “Though he will be pissed that I diverted from the plan.”

“Well, hopefully we can get you back without getting in too much trouble with him,” you offered him a reassuring smile.

“We?”

“I’m not an engineer or anything, but I’ll help you however I can. Even if it’s just holding the flashlight.”

Jungwoo regarded you not with suspicion, but more-so fascination, like he wanted to put you under a microscope. “I take it not all humans are this helpful.”

“I like to think we all want to do good, but it might look different for different people. And some of us haven’t practiced doing good since we were taught to share as kids.”

“Well, thank you, Y/N. I suppose if we’re going to be sneaking in at night, I will need somebody to hold the flashlight.”

“I’m your girl,” you beamed, right as your doorbell rang, accompanied by a solid knock. “That’ll be Johnny. Wait here.”

“Johnny!” You opened your door, head tilting curiously at the extra figures that accompanied him. “And Mark and Donghyuck. What are you guys doing here?”

“Well—” Mark started.

“We want to see the alien, duh,” Donghyuck pushed past you.

You crossed your arms over your chest. “He’s not a freakshow here for your entertainment.”

“Alright, Ms. High-and-Mighty, excuse us for having natural human curiosity,” Donghyuck scoffed, looked around your living room as if you were hiding him somewhere.

“Let Johnny look him over first, then I will ask Jungwoo if he wants to meet you.”

“Sweet!” “Yes!” They high-fived each other.

“Jungwoo?” Johnny repeated with a suspicious eyebrow raised. “His name’s not like ‘Gorgluk’ or something?”

“It could be, for all I know,” you admitted with a shrug. “According to him, we—humans—don’t have the right… throat flaps to say his actual name. That’s the closest approximation his translating device could make, apparently.”

“Right. Cool. Alien named Jungwoo. We going to meet his brother Steve next?”

“You’re not funny.”

“I’m coping.”

Leading Johnny back down the hall, you gently knocked on your bedroom door as you pushed it open. “Hey, Jungwoo, I’m back.”

Jungwoo was right where you’d left him, sitting up in your bed, hands folded over his lap patiently. You saw him stiffen slightly when his eyes moved from you to Johnny as the taller man followed you into the room.

“Jungwoo, this is my friend Johnny. Johnny, this is Jungwoo,” you quietly introduced them.

“Hey,” Johnny nodded to him casually.

“I told you Johnny was going to check you out, remember?”

Jungwoo nodded.

“Does he talk?” Your friend looked at you with a skeptical eyebrow raised.

“Yeah, he’s just shy, or something,” you muttered, walking over to the bedside with Johnny.

Johnny pulled out his stethoscope first, awkwardly listening to the right side of Jungwoo’s chest, then motioned for him to lean forward to listen to his lungs from the back. Once he’d taken the stethoscope out of his ears, Jungwoo spoke.

“You’re a doctor?” The spaceman asked, watching as Johnny opened his kit again to put the tool away.

“Vet.” Johnny answered bluntly, pulling on a pair of latex gloves.

“Vet?”

“Veterinarian. I am a doctor, but my patients are usually on four legs.”

Jungwoo looked up at you in bewilderment. “There are four-legged humans?”

“Animals. I treat animals.”

“Johnny’s really good,” you assured him. “He’s the one that stitched you up.”

“Speaking of—” Johnny gestured to his side. “You mind?”

Jungwoo wordlessly pulled his shirt up to allow Johnny to inspect the wound.

“I’m going to change the dressings,” the vet declared, beginning to peel the bandage off.

To your disbelief, the wound was half the size as before, and looked almost healed up. The amount of blood on the gauze indicated much more damage than you were seeing.

“What the shit?” Johnny swore under his breath.

“Jungwoo, how’s your wrist?” You asked with wide eyes.

He lifted his left hand up, bending and flexing it with no visible reaction. It was a typical size again. “From your reactions, I take it humans heal at much slower rates?”

“Uh, yeah,” you gulped, still staring at the wound on his side in awe. “It would take us days to heal as much as you have.”

“I-I don’t think I need to change the dressing,” Johnny said, his face completely betraying how weirded out he was by what he was looking at. “There’s no blood or any other… fluids coming out of it. It’s entirely scabbed over, nothing should be getting in there. I can put a band-aid on it so the scab doesn’t catch on any clothes, I guess?”

“Do you have any morphine?” Jungwoo requested.

“It can’t hurt that much, it just looks like you bumped a countertop too hard.”

“I think my rib is broken.”

“What?!”

You looked at him incredulously. “Why didn’t you say anything before?”

“My skin heals quicker than internal parts. It should be fine in a few days, but it does hurt quite a bit now.”

Johnny looked to you for any sort of cue, at the same time that you looked at him for the same. He presumably thought you knew more about aliens than him, and you were seeking his medical opinion.

“Can you have morphine?” Johnny asked him slowly. “Like, is it compatible with your biology, or whatever?”

“Very much. My body naturally produces some, but I’m afraid the concentration of hydrogen in your atmosphere is inadequate for this level of injury.” Jungwoo looked the two of you over with confusion. “Why are you so hesitant to give me it?”

“Well, it’s sort of… addictive,” you tried to explain. “Doctors tend to try other stuff before jumping for the opioids.”

“My body must process it differently. We’ve never seen opioid addiction on my planet.”

You and Johnny met eyes again before Johnny reached back into his kit. He pulled out a small bottle and syringe. As soon as he took the cap off the needle, Jungwoo’s eyes went wide. “And what are you going to do with that?”

“Inject you?” Johnny replied, bewildered. “Unless you were planning on drinking it?”

“You don’t?”

“No! And I’m not going to let you!” Johnny was clearly at his wits end. “Either I stick you, or you don’t get any.”

“Okay, guys,” you jumped in, uncomfortable with the rising tension. Able to realize when Johnny was at his limit, you turned to Jungwoo. “Will it harm you if you get injected with it instead of drinking it?”

“No, but I would prefer not to,” Jungwoo admitted.

“Alien with trypanophobia?” Johnny scoffed.

At the returned stiffness in Jungwoo’s muscles, you looked at him sympathetically. “Is that it, Jungwoo? You’re afraid of needles?”

“I’m not afraid of them, he has one and I’m not running from the room—”

“But you don’t like them being used on you.”

“Y/N, I have a job,” Johnny sighed, checking his watch. “I can’t do this song and dance with him all day.”

“Jungwoo, are you going to let him inject you? Like I said, doctors avoid giving opiates out, we’re not going to be able to get you any from anywhere else.”

“Y/N will hold your hand, will that help?” Your human friend offered tersely.

“Johnny, don’t patronize him.”

“Very well,” Jungwoo cut Johnny off right as he had opened his mouth to respond to you. “That… is an agreeable compromise.”

Johnny gestured at him while staring you down very pointedly. Not having the energy in you to go back and forth with either of them anymore, you sat down at the head of the bed by Jungwoo and offered your hand out to him. His skin was surprisingly warm as he laid his hand atop yours, and you curled your hand around it, then put your other one on top, giving him a gentle pat and small smile that you hoped looked reassuring.

Jungwoo didn’t look at Johnny as he went back to preparing the injection, instead keeping his eyes trained on you. “I… didn’t realize that humans are so cold.”

“Just me,” you told him, squeezing his hand. “Cold hands. You’re about as warm as other humans I’ve met. My friend Jae is like a human space heater. Hates when I put my cold toes on him during movie night.”

Jungwoo opened his mouth to reply, but his face suddenly scrunched up. Johnny must have put the needle in. The alien squinted one eye open as he continued whatever he had been going to say in the first place. “I don’t mind how cold you are.”

“Done,” Johnny declared, quite literally slapping a band-aid over where he had just injected. “And I’m going to work.”

“Taking the other two with you?” You asked hopefully.

“You promised them an alien.”

“I promised I would ask. They’re not entitled to see him.”

“Whatever, I’ve got to go.” Johnny packed everything up quickly. He gave your hair a quick ruffle. “Bye, kid.”

“Bye, Johnny.” You watched him head for the bedroom door.

“Thank you,” Jungwoo called out to him.

The vet gave a final nod to both of you before slipping back out. You heard a sudden swell of noise as the two younger boys accosted him.

“Who else is here?” Jungwoo asked you.

You bit your lip ruefully as you heard the front door open and close, but the voices of Mark and Donghyuck were still very much audible. “Two more of our friends, Donghyuck and Mark. They were at the beach last night, too, when we found you. They want to meet you, if that’s okay with you. I totally get it if you say no. I’ll be more than happy to kick them out.”

“No, that’s alright. I would like to meet them. They’re your friends, right?”

“I guess I did say that,” you sighed, letting go of his hand and standing up. “Okay, be back.”

Out in your living room, the two younger boys practically assaulted you in their excited states, clinging onto your arms desperately.

“Don’t throw us out! We’ll be so good!” Donghyuck pleaded.

“Johnny told us he talks and stuff?!” Mark was buzzing.

“Cool it,” you chastised them. “He said he wants to meet you. Don’t make me regret this.”

“Fuck yeah!” They fistbumped.

“You two are so lame. Come on.” You stalked back over to your room. Jungwoo perked up when you came back in, regarding the two newcomers studiously.

“Jungwoo, this is Mark and Donghyuck,” you gestured to each in turn. “Guys, this is Jungwoo.”

“It’s nice to meet—” Mark’s polite greeting was cut off by Donghyuck.

“So are you from Mars? Jupiter?”

You slapped a hand over your face with a low groan. Jungwoo almost looked amused, thankfully. “No, I’m not from this Solar System. Or galaxy, for that matter.”

“How can you breathe our air?” Mark asked curiously.

“We have a similar composition on my home planet. Though there’s not as much free hydrogen here…”

“Oh!” You suddenly had an epiphany. “The hydrogen. Will water work? Uhm, dihydrogen monoxide?”

“Yes, that will be an apt replacement.”

“I’ll go get you a glass,” you patted his shoulder before hurrying from the room. The others were still talking as you filled up a cup of water, then walked back in with it. You held it out to Jungwoo. “Here.”

“Thank you, Y/N.”

“So what do you eat?” Donghyuck questioned. “Can you eat our food?”

“I quite like uhm, confections. Desserts.”

“Alien with a sweet tooth…”

“You all keep calling me that. You do realize that to me, you are the aliens?”

“Woah…” Mark breathed out. “You’re right.”

Jungwoo quickly chugged down the glass of water, and you took it back. “I’ll get you another,” you smiled down at him.

Donghyuck perked up, “Oh, Y/N, can I have a—”

“You know where the kitchen is,” you snorted, heading for the door. “I’m not your mom.”

When you returned and handed the cup to Jungwoo again, Mark eyed you with a pout and arms crossed over his chest. “You’re never this nice to us when we get hurt.”

“Yeah, you laughed in Yuta’s face when he broke his leg last year,” Donghyuck narrowed his eyes.

“Because he broke his leg trying to grind an ollie at the skate park at his big age,” you scoffed. “And then had to go into his grown-up job the next day. Tell me how that isn’t funny.”

They exchanged a glance before breaking out into snickers.

“Okay, that is pretty funny,” Donghyuck admitted.

“Exactly.” You glanced at the time on your phone. “Alright, I’m tired of human interaction, you two need to go.”

“But—” Mark gestured wildly to Jungwoo, who was calmly sipping his water.

“My apartment, my rules,” you clicked your tongue, shooing them towards the front door.

“Johnny brought us here, how are we going to get home?” Donghyuck tried to plead with you as you shoved them through your apartment.

“You have bus passes, don’t you?”

“Well yeah—”

“Then, bye!” You opened your door and pushed them out, slamming the door shut behind them. Turning back around, you noticed a stack of clothes on the arm of your couch, and recognized them as some of Jaehyun’s. You grabbed them and took them back with you into your bedroom.

“Ugh, finally,” you sighed, rolling out your neck. “Sorry about them.”

“They were… funny,” Jungwoo settled on an adjective.

You offered out the clothes to your guest. “Here, Johnny brought these for you. My shower is through there, too.” You gestured to your bathroom door. “And I can make something to eat while you freshen up. If you’re hungry. What do you eat? Other than sweet stuff? I don’t have any meat, but I can go get some if you need it—”

“We don’t eat meat, either,” he smiled up at you. “Galarii don’t.”

“Vegetarians?”

“Yes.”

“Well, easy for me, then.” You watched him as he swung his legs around. “You got it? You need any help?”

Jungwoo slowly got to his feet, and you winced as you watched him clutch at his side. Nevertheless, he stayed upright, and took a couple steps forward. “I’ll be alright.”

“Great. Uhm, let me just show you how the shower works and stuff, then I’ll leave you be.” You walked him into the bathroom, pushed back the shower curtain, pointing out the knobs and bottles to Jungwoo. “This one’s for cold water, this one’s for hot water. You have to turn them left to turn them on. Pull this thing up to turn the shower part on instead of the bath. This blue bottle is for shampoo, you do that one first, just on the roots of your hair. Purple one is conditioner, on your ends. Face wash, body wash. Yeah, I think that’s it.”

As you turned back to look at Jungwoo, you realized how close he was as he had leaned in to listen intently to you point out everything. Squinting, you looked closer at a faint smattering of freckles across his cheeks and nose that you hadn’t noticed before. “Hey, I never realized you have freckles,” you commented, blinking a couple times to make sure you were seeing this right. “Or that they were… rainbow? No, just pink? And purple?”

“They’re not freckles.” He touched them as if he were wiping them away, but they didn’t budge. “They’re iridophores, patches of cells that reflect light differently. I believe the fluorescents in here are making them more visible than the dim lighting in the other room.”

“They’re so pretty!” You exclaimed, shifting in another direction so that they were even flashier at this angle, revealing some blue and green as well.

Jungwoo’s hand hovered uncertainly over his face. “You think so?”

“Yeah, of course! What? You don’t?”

“They’re… I don’t know, they’re nothing special on Galaria,” he admitted, dropping his hand to give you a full view of the iridophores. He pulled the collar of his shirt to the side to show some of the top of his shoulder, where there were even more, then let it go. “I have them here too. Everyone does.”

“Well, we don’t have stuff like that here,” you informed him with an awestruck grin. “Anyway, I’ll let you shower, sorry. You’re not some specimen for me to gawk at.”

“No, it’s alright. I don’t mind you being curious about me.”

You weren’t sure what to say to that, so you gave him a nod and another smile before leaving the bathroom and heading into the kitchen.

By the time Jungwoo was done with his shower, you had made a couple hefty stacks of pancakes, cut up some fruit, and grabbed a jar of Nutella for good measure, remembering his comment about preferring sweets. You filled up two tall glasses of ice water before also making a cup of tea for yourself. You briefly contemplated running to the boba place around the corner, but it was exactly then that you heard the shower turn off, and thought better of it. Jungwoo emerged in a pair of Jaehyun’s jeans and a slouchy, grey crewneck sweater, looking startlingly human, except for the occasional glint of iridophores on his cheeks and nose. His hair was still a bit damp as he came over to curiously inspect the two plates you had placed on your kitchen counter.

“Pancakes and fruit. Grab a plate and sit wherever, I don’t have a table. I usually eat at the couch.” You gestured. Jungwoo followed your lead and sat in the corner of your couch as you plopped down in your armchair. You cracked open your jar of Nutella, offering it out to him.

“What is that?” He questioned, sniffing the air tentatively.

“Chocolate hazelnut spread,” you stuck a spoon in it. “It’s sweet. You’ll probably like it. Most people do.”

He put some on a small part of a pancake, and tried a bite, then immediately dove back in to slather the rest of his pancakes in it.

“Alien with a sweet tooth,” you chuckled to yourself, digging into your own breakfast.

“You don’t have to… stay with me,” Jungwoo told you between bites. “I remember you telling your friends that you were tired of human interaction. I believe that it’s a common human social nicety to entertain house guests, but you won’t offend me if you wish to be alone.”

“That’s… considerate,” you chuckled. “But the operative word there is human. You’re an alien, so I’m not tired of you yet, Jungwoo.”

“Really?”

“Yep,” you grinned at him, popping a piece of fruit in your mouth.

“May I ask… Why am I staying with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“From what Mark and Donghyuck were saying, it sounds like there were many of your friends there last night when my ship crashed. How did it happen that I ended up here with you?”

“Finders keepers, I guess,” you laughed. Jungwoo gave you a funny sort of look at that, which prompted you to further explain. “I’m the one who found your ship in the first place and wanted to look inside at all. I don’t know how much you remember, but I’m kind of the one who pulled you out. Some of the other guys helped me, don’t get me wrong, but if they had their way, you would’ve been left in there. So, I found you, you’re my responsibility. Finders keepers.”

“Ah, I see.”

Your phone buzzed then, and you saw that it was Doyoung calling. “Oh, that’s Doyoung, I’ve got to take this. Sorry, hold on.” Standing up, you didn’t go very far as you walked over to the living room window to look out over the city as you answered. “Hi, Doie, what’s up?”

“Y/N, hey. How’s your alien?” Your friend asked.

“Fine, all things considering.”

“He alive?”

“Alive, awake, eating, talking, the whole shebang.”

“Shit, really?!”

“Uh-huh,” you confirmed, holding your phone mic-out towards Jungwoo, “Jungwoo, say hi to Doyoung?”

Jungwoo covered his mouth as he quickly chewed and swallowed, then called out, “Hello, Doyoung!”

You brought your phone back up to your ear just in time to hear your friend react. “Holy shit!”

“So what’d you find out from your dad? How much of the ship survived?”

“A lot,” he told you. “They’re calling it a hoax, and they’re not letting news reporters get footage. Apparently they don’t want to encourage any copycats. After putting out the fire, they haven’t let anybody on board. They’re just keeping it cordoned off until the police chief and my dad decide what to do with it. Right now it’s a crime scene while they investigate it as an arson case.”

“But the fire’s been put out, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you know anything about how it’s being watched?”

“A couple cops at night, I think.” Doyoung’s voice was guarded. “You’re going to sneak the alien back there, aren’t you?”

“He has to get home somehow, Doyoung,” you insisted. “Unless you think we should steal a spaceship from somewhere else that’s fit for intergalactic travel?”

“Hey, I’m not disagreeing with the whole ‘get the alien back home’ idea,” he said defensively. “Just don’t get arrested while you’re at it, alright? Johnny would have a stroke.”

“Yeah, I know, he nearly had one last night and this morning playing alien doctor,” you sighed. “I don’t think he’d bail me and Jungwoo out of jail if it came to it.”

“Call Yuta for your one phone call if you need. He’s good for it.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking. Or Taeyong, he probably wouldn’t hold it over my head.”

“Good point. Or, even better—don’t get arrested in the first place.”

“Plan A: Don’t get arrested. Plan B: Taeyong. Plan C: Yuta. Plan D: You. Plan E: Jaehyun, who would definitely bring Johnny with him.”

“Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out,” Doyoung chuckled. “I’ll leave you and Spock to it then.”

“He has a name, you know.”

“Yeah, but I don’t have all the right flaps, right?”

“Who told you? Donghyuck? Mark?”

“Johnny. He called on the way to work to ask if I knew anything about the ship.”

“Huh…”

“Anyway, I’ll leave you and Stitch be. Holler if you need something.”

“You’re hilarious. You’re fucking hilarious,” you rolled your eyes, hanging up. Plopping back down in your armchair, you relayed the pertinent parts of your conversation to Jungwoo. “According to Doyoung, a lot of your ship survived the explosion. They’ve put the fire out, but there will probably be a couple cops patrolling it at night, so we’ll have to be careful when we go check it out tonight. Until then, I guess we’ll just hang out. Sound good? How are you feeling? How’s your side? Do you need more bandages after showering? I can call Johnny up, probably swing by his office and get some more or see if he can come by on his lunch and take a look at you? Maybe bring some more morphine?”

“I don’t need any more bandages,” Jungwoo shook his hand, lifting the sweatshirt to allow you to see how he’s healed so far. There was still a considerable amount of bruising, but the skin had entirely mended itself, no evidence of a scab, only a dark, puffy scar.

“Does it still hurt?” You asked with a sympathetic grimace. “I know you said you take longer to heal internally than on the outside. I can probably convince him to bring some more morphine for you. I don’t know what your metabolism is like compared to ours, or even how much he gave you last time. I mean, are you in pain?”

“It is painful,” he admitted, dropping his shirt again. “But I don’t—I’ll be fine.”

“Jungwoo, if it hurts—”

“Not that bad.”

You felt a bit mean for this, but you reached out to poke his side, and he immediately let out a yelp, covering his wound and ducking away from you.

“What did you do that for?” He asked you, jaw dropped.

“You liar,” you scoffed, bringing your phone out. “I’m texting Johnny.”

“He will administer it the same way as last time, won’t he?” Jungwoo questioned quietly, stopping your typing.

You put your phone down. “Probably, yeah. He’s not… used to letting people drink that stuff.”

“Then I will be fine without it.”

“Even if I hold your hand again? You can’t do another one?” You asked. “I’ll talk to you, you can squeeze my hand like a stress ball—or we’ll get you a real stress ball, whatever you want.”

He was silent, and you let out a sigh.

“Jungwoo, I don’t like seeing you hurt, you know,” you shook your head, cutting off a piece of your pancakes with the side of your fork, lifting it to your mouth. “But it’s up to you, I’m not going to hold you down and make him stick you or anything.”

With a flash of iridophores, Jungwoo’s head turned, and his eyes were focused back on you, his hands wringing together. “I’ll do it.”

Your jaw stopped mid-bite. “Wait, seriously?”

“Yes. If Johnny agrees. I get the impression he doesn’t like me very much…”

“No, no, he likes you just fine, I promise!” You reassured him, reaching forward to pat his knee. “I just stress him out, that’s all. I’ll text him right now, okay? We’ll get you feeling better in no time!”

“Can’t believe he’s making us come to him,” you grumbled, pushing your way through the sidewalks with Jungwoo’s arm around your shoulders. “You literally have bruised ribs and fell from the fucking sky last night.”

“I don’t mind,” Jungwoo tried to be diplomatic, even as he held his side with his free hand. “He’s doing me a favor.”

“He’s being an asshole.” You tried to match Jungwoo’s slow, hobbling pace. “Making you come all the way across the city in pain. Risking you being out in public. Goddamn asshole.”

“I don’t mind,” your companion repeated, looking up past the visor of the baseball cap you’d put on him to conceal his glinting iridophore flecks as best as possible. “I haven’t seen much of Earth. Your sky is beautiful. Is it always blue?”

“During the day, yeah, usually. What color is Galaria’s?”

“A bright violet.” He was leaning more of his weight on you, and you stepped into the alcove of a shop door to rest for a moment. The crowd continued hurrying by you as you leaned against the wall and Jungwoo leaned against you.

“Purple sky?” You repeated, staring up at the crystalline blue expanse above you and trying to picture it.

“Yes, most of the time.”

“That sounds really gorgeous.”

“I suppose it is.”

You looked over at him curiously. “You don’t think so?”

“Well, I suppose I’m just so used to it… I don’t know,” he shrugged, looking back to the clear aqua sky above you. “I quite like your blue sky.”

“I think I’d like to see your purple sky someday,” you hummed thoughtfully.

“Really?”

“Yeah, as long as you could bring me back,” you shrugged. “Always wanted to travel.”

Jungwoo blinked down at you, and you shook your head with a chuckle.

“Sorry, that probably sounded like I was asking to run away with you or something. And you’re like, in a bunch of pain,” you laughed at yourself. “I should stop blabbing and get you to the man with the morphine. You ready to keep going?”

“Yes, absolutely.”

At Johnny’s animal clinic, you had to stay in the waiting room while he finished up with a patient. After he handed the dog back to its owner, and dismissed the front desk attendee for their lunch break, he finally gestured the two of you back. You helped Jungwoo up from his seat, wrapping his arm back around you so you could slowly follow your friend into the back. Johnny held the door open for you all as he led the way into the exam room. You could tell the morphine had been wearing off faster and faster, even though Jungwoo hadn’t said anything. He had been favoring his side more and more, and vocalizing noises of pain more frequently as the day wore on.

“How is it?” Johnny was nice enough to ask as you helped Jungwoo half-sit and half-lean on the exam table. You’d seen some pretty big animals on this thing, you were pretty sure it could handle him.

“Fine,” Jungwoo hissed.

“He’s not bleeding on the outside anymore, but everything’s still pretty banged up internally,” you answered honestly, shooting Jungwoo a pointed look. “Do you think you could like x-ray him while we’re here? See if anything’s broken?”

Johnny stopped where he had been getting supplies from some drawers. “Would x-rays kill him?”

“I mean, you traveled through space, right? Isn’t there a bunch of radiation there?” You asked Jungwoo hopefully. “Johnny can take some pictures of you with x-rays, right?”

“Yes, that will be fine,” Jungwoo nodded minutely.

And so Johnny moved around his portable x-ray machine to take a few images of Jungwoo’s side where the pain was most concentrated. You had to stand outside the room while it was being done, but as soon as Johnny gave you the thumbs-up, you rushed back in, helping Jungwoo sit back up. Johnny took the lead vest back off, leaving him in his white coat again as he went back over to the imaging machine.

“Okay, here we go,” Johnny muttered, clicking a few things on the computer to pull up the images. “Remember, I’m not a human doctor, and definitely not an alien doctor.”

“We know, Johnny,” you retorted.

The first image came up, and you yourself weren’t any kind of doctor, but that definitely didn’t look right. A dark line going right down what you assumed to be a rib, splitting it all the way through. “Yep, your rib’s broken,” Johnny declared, pointing to the severance.

Jungwoo’s brow furrowed with concern. “It shouldn’t—”

“Yeah, no shit. Remember, dude, you fell out of the sky twelve hours ago, I’m surprised you’re alive.”

“No, I should be more healed than that.”

“You said that the lack of hydrogen in the atmosphere was making it so your body couldn’t produce as much natural painkillers, remember? Maybe something is making you heal a bit slower, too,” you suggested reassuringly. “I’m sure you’ll be fine, it’ll just be a little longer.”

“That’s probably it,” Johnny agreed. “Are you eating enough? I know Y/N only has that vegan crap at her house, you probably need a real meal—”

“His whole planet is vegetarian, you dick.” You flipped him off. “You’d probably kill him if you gave him a steak.”

“Alright, damn,” he held his hands up with a laugh. “Let me just shoot him up with morphine and you two can get out of here, huh? I’ll do a double dose from last time.”

“I need to be able to get him home, John,” you said frankly.

“I’ll drive you.”

“Alright,” you nodded, then looked to the alien. “Sound good Jungwoo? Twice as much as last time? So hopefully it’ll last a bit longer?”

He nodded, his eyes fixated on Johnny as the human had gone back to getting the supplies for the injection. You grabbed his hand without prompting, flashing him a bright smile as you tried to come up with something to talk about to distract him. “So, how else are Earth and Galaria different?” You asked him. “The skies are different colors, we know that. What about the oceans? Do you guys have oceans?”

“Yes, we do.”

“Ours are blue, for the most part. Or, a blue-green.”

“We have—oh,” he wrinkled his nose, but didn’t look away from you. “Pink seas.”

“I think we have a pink sea too, somewhere!” You perked up. “I’d have to look it up, but I’m pretty sure somewhere has pink water. It might be a lake, actually, not a proper sea. Don’t quote me on it…”

Jungwoo smiled at that. “I won’t hold you to it, then.”

“What about like, glaciers? Do you have those? Really big floating chunks of ice in the ocean?”

“Galaria is mostly frozen tundra…”

“Damn, really?! How cold is it there? Wait, there’s like, no way we use anywhere near the same units of measurement for temperature. Your transcoder probably couldn’t help with that, huh?”

“No, we presumably don’t use the temperature scale.”

“All done,” Johnny announced, scooting his chair back and disposing of his needle and gloves. “I’ll take you two home now.”

“Thanks, Johnny.” You smiled up at him, helping Jungwoo up. “How are you feeling, Jungwoo?”

The Galarii took a couple slow blinks. “Mm… starting to feel better…”

“You said morphine doesn’t make you high, does it make you tired?” You questioned, following Johnny out towards the back where his car was parked in the alley.

“Not usually… but my body hasn’t been doing what it’s supposed to be doing the whole time I’ve been here…” he said slowly, narrowly missing hitting his head on the roof as you helped him into the backseat. You scooted in after him, encouraging him to lean against you after you’d buckled him up.

Johnny took off quickly through the streets, occasionally watching the two of you in the rearview mirror. Outside your apartment building, he helped you unload a half-awake Jungwoo, the alien rousing himself just enough to climb the stairs. Giving your friend a final thank-you and goodbye at the entrance to your apartment, you tugged Jungwoo back into your home, guiding him once again back to your bed.

“Come on, time for a nap,” you sighed, encouraging him to lay down. “You need to rest up, dude.”

“Y/N?” He murmured, grabbing your forearm as you went to walk away to leave him in peace.

“Yes?” You stopped, looking down at him attentively. “Do you need something, Jungwoo? Water? Food?”

“Will you just… sit with me? And talk to me? Until I go to sleep?” He requested. “I… find your company soothing.”

“Oh.” You shifted your weight uncertainly between your feet, but acquiesced nevertheless, scooting onto the corner of the mattress near his head. “Sure, Jungwoo. Here, I’ll look up those pink oceans I was talking about, see if I was right.”

And so you read some Wikipedia articles to Jungwoo about various pink lakes and beaches until his eyes fluttered shut, his breathing evened out, and you were more than certain that he was asleep. But even after you were sure he was fast asleep, and you stopped reading the article aloud, you stayed right there, silently scrolling on your phone and occasionally looking from your screen over to his face. Because for some reason that you couldn’t put your finger on, you sort of found his presence calming, too.

When it seemed as though Jungwoo was stirring, you quickly got up from your spot and scurried from the room, feeling a bit weird about sitting and watching him sleep the whole time. You had a feeling that he wouldn’t have minded, but you didn’t want it to be a fact known to anybody but you that you had done that. Truly, you didn’t even want to really admit it to yourself, either. And so, when Jungwoo finally wandered out of your bedroom some hours later, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he found you tucked into the corner of your couch, in the middle of an episode of a TV show, as if you had been doing that the whole time.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” you greeted him nonchalantly, pausing the episode. “How’d you sleep?”

“Mm, well,” his reply was punctuated by a yawn.

“And how are you feeling?”

“I’m still feeling the painkiller effect, but I am no longer tired.”

“So, do you think you’ll be up for checking out your ship tonight?” You checked the time on your phone. “We can probably eat dinner then head out after.”

“Yes, I would very much like to see it.”

“Cool, let’s do it.”

After eating another modest meal prepared by you, you and Jungwoo headed out. The streets weren’t as busy at night, and with Jungwoo moving fully of his own power again, the two of you were able to make your way through them much quicker. The intel you got from Doyoung was good, the entire expanse of beach was roped off with police tape, and one officer was stationed on either side of the shoreline. Because of how far the fire had spread through the trees, the officers were pretty far from where you remembered the ship being. Getting in and out would be the tricky part, but once you were in, you were certain they would be none the wiser that somebody was there.

Jungwoo followed you silently, and you finally found what you were looking for. The old public access to the beach. When you were little, everyone used to have to take a steep staircase that started right off the highway. After a particular heavy rainy season that brought rockslides from the mountain up above, it was deemed entirely unusable by the city, all markers for it taken away, left in disrepair, and a new, much safer one was made further down the road. There was a ‘CAUTION: ROCKSLIDES’ sign nearby, which is how you knew you were in the right place. The best part was that it was right in the middle of the thicket of trees, meaning that as long as you were quick, you should be able to drop right in undetected.

All boardwalks and rope that had been spared by rockslides and Mother Nature over the years were left untouched by the city government, and you were able to start the steep descent like normal. It was about a third of the way down that things started getting dicey, broken pieces of wood, large gaps that you had to step over, and several areas where you had to test the steadiness of rocks before putting your weight on it because there was no manmade material for you to step on at all. When you and Jungwoo got to the place where the path would’ve diverted to the beach instead of dropping you right into the trees, you bit your bottom lip and resisted cursing aloud. It was a steep drop from where you were. It was too dark for you to see where the ground was, but instinct and memory told you it was too steep for you to just jump down. Looking around desperately, you realized there was a much shallower incline further down the trail, but it was close to where one of the officers was patrolling. You were already too near him for your liking.

A distant voice humming got closer and closer, and you held your breath and held your position, keeping your eyes peeled in the direction of the noise for any sign of movement through the trees. You never did see the police officer, but eventually the humming got further away again, until you stopped hearing it, and you made a break for the shallow area, sliding down the mostly sandy, occasionally rocky hill on your butt. You heard the sounds of Jungwoo hurrying after you, but didn’t look behind you until you were sure you two were well concealed in the trees again. Glancing up at him, you saw his chest heaving, and motioned for him to keep quiet as you listened to the officer run back over towards the road end of his side.

The crackle of a walkie-talkie, then a distant voice. “Hey, I think I heard something. You hear anything?”

After a second, his buddy responded, his voice slightly garbled through the walkie-talkie speaker. “Yeah, you heard a rock fall down the mountain. Rockslide area. Been hearing them all night.”

“Damn, you’re right. Thanks.” And he was gone again.

You took off through the brush at a brisk pace, knowing that Jungwoo would be right behind you. The ship was easy to find, with the concentration of charred and blackened foliage getting greater and greater the closer you got to it. When you finally found it, the spaceship was mostly intact, which the size of the explosion from last night did not lead you to believe. Jungwoo let out a sigh of relief, and did a quick walk-around first. It was when you got to the tail that you saw why there had been such a huge fireball. Four huge canisters that must have housed something flammable were nothing more than metallic flowers now, the material burst open and curling over on itself from the force of the explosion.

“The reactors…” Jungwoo breathed out.

You chewed on your bottom lip, asking quietly, “Is it fixable?”

“I don’t want to say anything until I see the inside.”

You followed him around to the side, where he pressed a button that you had missed last night on account of it being entirely smooth and looking like nothing more than a random dot. A set of hand and foot rails emerged seamlessly from the surface of the hull for you to climb up with. Once the two of you were up at the cockpit, Jungwoo pressed another button up there, and the ladder seemed to melt back into the metal of the ship once again. The glass was still propped open, making it very easy for you to hop down into the ship. Whatever red flashing warning lights that were going off before had deactivated, leaving it in pitch black, and you immediately brought out your phone to turn the flashlight on.

“Ah, thank you,” Jungwoo said as you pointed it at wherever he looked.

“I told you, I’m your flashlight girl,” you grinned.

As he looked over many different panels and controls in the cockpit, you drank in every detail with fascination. While the button on the outside of the ship had functioned seemingly almost like a touchscreen, the ones in here looked analog at least, though you couldn’t figure out for the life of you what a single one was for. You kept your hands to yourself. Jungwoo finally pressed a button, and a screen lit up, one that quaintly reminded you of computers from the nineties in its size and resolution. As he navigated through the program, you watched with interest. He sat down in one of the two chairs, and indicated to the other one for you. You eagerly sat. It was remarkably comfy.

“You seem to be very close to Johnny,” he commented abruptly, spamming one button in particular with a bit of frustration.

“We’re all really close.” You nodded, and the program finally loaded the next screen. “But yeah, I guess John and I are a bit different. Our parents are all friends, so we’ve been friends since we were little. He’s had to deal with my bullshit for our whole lives. We even call each other’s parents Aunt and Uncle, that kind of thing.”

“He is… similar to your cousin?”

“Sort of? I don’t know, he was kind of like a built-in older brother.” A sheepish smile tugged at the corner of your mouth as you reminisced in childhood memories. “People in our neighborhood and at school did actually think we were cousins. He’s a few years older than me, and I was a bit of a troublemaker. I remember he’d pull me away from getting into fights with kids way bigger than me, or when I’d talk back to teachers, the head teacher always brought the both of us in for a scolding. Something about how he should be keeping his younger cousin in check, too. Poor guy. He took it like a champ. We came to an agreement that he wouldn’t tell my parents if I stopped getting in trouble so much.”

“You’re not so unruly anymore.”

“Oh, I’ve still got a bit of a rebellious streak,” you chuckled. “Johnny always says I’m going to make him go grey. I mean, you and I are literally on a crime scene right now. And I pulled an alien out of a spaceship that was about to explode last night.”

“I suppose that’s true…” Jungwoo trailed off, brow furrowing as what looked like a schematic of some sort came up on the screen. “Hm.”

“Something wrong?”

“Mixed results.”

“What?”

“There are some bad things and some good things.”

“Tell me the bad stuff first.”

“What?”

“When somebody says ‘I’ve got good news, and I’ve got bad news,’ they’re supposed to let you pick if you want to hear the good news or the bad news first,” you explained the small colloquialism. “I want the bad news first, so we can end on the good stuff.”

“I see…” he hummed, clicking a few more things. “The bad news is… I will need to reconstruct the reactors and make other minor repairs.”

“And how long will that take?”

“I do not know Earth measurements of time.”

“You’ve been on Earth for one day now. How many of those do you think it’ll take?”

He took a moment to think about this, then eventually answered, “Twenty to thirty? Maybe more, maybe less, I’m unsure, I was asleep for much of the ‘day’ that I experienced.”

You nodded. “Okay. And the good news?”

“There was no serious structural damage to the hull or critical systems of the ship. Once I reconstruct the reactors and make those repairs, I will be able to leave.”

“That’s great news, Jungwoo!” You beamed, holding up a hand for him. He uncertainly put his palm against yours and laced your fingers together, eyes flicking around the ship nervously. You burst into laughter. “I wasn’t trying to hold your hand again, sorry. It’s a high-five. It’s celebratory, friendly.”

“Ah. My apologies. How do you do that, then?” He took his hand back from yours.

“I put my hand up for you, and you hit your palm to mine pretty hard. You’re trying to make a—” you clapped your own two hands together “—sound.”

“I think I understand.”

“Okay, take two.” You held your hand up, and he gingerly tapped his hand to yours. Once again, you couldn’t help but giggle fondly. “Yeah, pretty much. A for effort,” you declared. “So, anything else you need to do right now? Or is that it for tonight?”

“I wish I could begin working right now, however I will need lots of materials for the reactors.”

“Let’s get out of here, we can talk about what kind of stuff you need and where to get it on the way home.”

“So is your brother older or younger?” You asked as you and Jungwoo took a more leisurely pace back to your apartment.

“I’m sorry?” Jungwoo tilted his head, as if he hadn’t heard you, which was weird, considering he was already looking at you when you turned to ask him that.

“Your brother whose ship you took. Is he older than you or younger?”

“I… don’t know.” He frowned thoughtfully.

You balked. “You don’t know?”

“No. It’s not something we’re told on Galaria.”

“But—” You laughed out of habit as your brain tried to process this information. “What? Why?”

“It’s not important.”

“I mean, I guess not. But like, it is!”

“Why?”

“I mean, some cultures here have entire systems of honorifics that you call people based on your age relative to theirs. But just—” You were still staring at him. “Don’t you know how old your brother is?”

“I know his birthday.”

“But not how old he is?”

“I… suppose not.” He shrugged. “That’s all kept somewhere.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just difficult for me to wrap my head around. You’re not allowed to know your brother’s age—”

“I’m allowed to know,” he corrected you. “If we were to learn somehow now, it would be fine. There’s no punishment for it. But it’s just not something that we grow up knowing. Nobody is referred to as the older or younger.”

“Do you remember your brother being born?”

“No.”

“Was he in a higher grade than you in school?”

“School is based on ability, not age.” It was his turn to look at you with bewilderment. “You move up in levels as your learning progresses, not your physical body. Is that how it works here?”

“We keep kids who are the same age together, yeah.”

“Fascinating.”

“What about siblings that have big age gaps? Where you can totally tell who’s older and who’s younger?” You asked. “Or step-siblings? Like, you already knew their age and then your parents got together?”

“Again, it’s not forbidden to know a sibling’s age,” Jungwoo reiterated. “It’s just not… important.”

“So if your brother is a controversial politician… What are you?” It felt like you could ask him questions forever and never run out. “You never did tell me that earlier.”

“My profession?”

“Yeah. What do you for work?”

“Specialized cargo transport.”

“Uh…” You blinked up at him. “You know that sounds really shady, right?”

“When people need things transported across galaxies, typically under time constraints, or with specific instructions, they come to me.” He tried to explain it further.

“What kind of stuff have you transported, then?”

“Anything from fuel, to an engagement comb, to produce from someone’s home planet that they were missing after moving elsewhere,” he shrugged.

“So you’re like an intergalactic DHL driver,” you laughed. “Sounds fun, I guess. You’ve been to a lot of places, then?”

“Yes, many different planets and cities and galaxies.”

“And this is your first time on Earth?”

“I haven’t had a reason to come to this solar system before. Your planet isn’t exactly involved in intergalactic trade. So, I might not have another chance to visit.”

“Nobody’s requesting any black market Earth commodities?”

“I guess… we don’t really know what’s here. Nobody’s ever put in the effort to find out, I suppose.”

You couldn’t help but laugh again. “We’re just not interesting enough, huh? Can’t even make it on the niche alien knickknack market.”

Jungwoo smiled a little. “That tends to be a good thing, in my experience.”

The two of you were walking through a night market at that point, and you perked up as you saw a particular stall. Your dinner earlier hadn’t included a dessert for Jungwoo. You stopped him, pointing to the ice cream stand. “Ooh, hey, you want something sweet?”

“Sweet…?” He peered over the crowd to try to see what they were serving.

“Yeah, dessert. Ice cream. Want some? They’ve got toppings too.” You pulled him into the line as you talked. “You can get sprinkles and candy, or even entire brownies as toppings. And they’ve got some really good flavors.”

“Which flavor do you like?”

“Peanut butter cup and green tea are my two favorites. But you can only get one flavor at a time here,” you sighed wistfully, getting on your tiptoes to look at their options again. “I think I’m going to do green tea today…”

With your own green tea cone and Jungwoo’s peanut butter cup selection in hand, the two of you started back down the streets together. You watched with interest as Jungwoo took his first tentative lick off the scoop, his face lighting up with delight.

“It’s good!” He declared happily. “We have something similar... on Galaria.”

“If your planet is mostly frozen tundra...” you paused to eat some of your own ice cream. “Is most of your food hot or cold?”

He seemed to contemplate this for a moment. “I don’t know...”

“It’s okay, Jungwoo,” you laughed at how hard he seemed to be thinking about it. “I wouldn’t be able to answer that about Earth food. It wasn’t a very fair question, I think.”

“Still, I feel bad that I can’t answer your question.”

“It’s fine, really,” you promised, squeezing his arm. “It’s not going to keep me up at night.”

The next day, after another injection from Johnny on the vet’s way into work, you took Jungwoo to Yuta’s garage. There was no way you would be of any serious help when it came to furnishing him with parts for his ship, nor did you really want him just walking into your local hardware store asking for alien spaceship parts. Today seemed to be a slow day, as only one of Yuta’s coworkers was there, firmly wedged under a car on the other side of the garage, loudly playing music from a speaker, so you weren’t worried about him eavesdropping on your conversation so long as you kept your voices low. Jungwoo and Yuta had a slightly rocky start, obviously using different terminology, but eventually got on the same page, leaving you in the dust as they started going over various specifications and parts. You zoned out, taking over Yuta's chair and kicking up your feet on his workbench as you let their words go in one ear and out the other.

“Hey,” Yuta’s hand came down on your head, catching your attention again.

You craned your neck back to look up at him. “Yeah?”

“I’ve given him everything I had in stock, there’s a few things you guys will have to pick up at a shop,” he explained, and you turned around to see Jungwoo loaded up with a duffel bag that he hadn’t walked in with. “I wrote everything out so you know how to ask for it in human.”

“Thanks, Yuta.” You stood up and got out your wallet. “How much do I owe you for the parts?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“What? But—”

“Hey, we all want to help him get home.” He held his hands up, backing away from your money. “Just doing my part.”

You narrowed your eyes at him knowingly. “Uh-huh... very charitable... What’s the catch?”

“Well, I’m going on this date tomorrow, and—”

“Pass.”

“You didn’t even hear me out!”

“I’m assuming the girl wants to bring a friend, you’re trying to turn it into a double date,” you snorted. “The last time I went on a double date with you—”

“No, not you,” Yuta waved you off. “Jungwoo!”

“Excuse me?”

Your friend had already sidled up to the alien, throwing an arm around his shoulders. “What do you think? Date with an Earth girl? You’re only going to be here for so long...”

You rubbed your face in exasperation. “Yuta, you do remember that we don’t want people to find out that we have an alien here, right?”

“We can say he’s from out of town.”

“What is wrong with you?” You stared at him incredulously. “Just bring Johnny, or Jae, or any of your other ten million single human loser friends.”

“You’re not Jungwoo’s mom,” Yuta snorted.

“Well, no—”

“There we go, Jungwoo, do you want to go?” Yuta focused his question on Jungwoo instead.

Jungwoo’s eyes shifted nervously between you and Yuta. “Uhm, well...”

“Okay, I hate to be crude here, but keeping in mind how your successful dates usually look, Yuta,” you cut in again pointedly, “We can’t risk exposing what Jungwoo is. Doesn’t matter if we say he’s from out of town.”

Yuta raised an eyebrow at you. “Wow, Y/N, didn’t think you’d bring up the alien dick angle first.”

You groaned as your face burned. “You’re the worst. Why’d you have to say it?”

“Pretty sure you said it—”

“Will you drop it?!”

“I don’t want to go!” Jungwoo interjected loudly, stopping yours and Yuta’s bickering. “I don’t want to go. Uhm, thank you for the invitation, Yuta, really. But I’d rather not...”

Yuta shrugged. “Alright. I’m pretty sure Doyoung’s free.”

Your skin was still on fire as you left Yuta’s garage. He didn’t end up making you pay, despite neither of you fulfilling his need for a double-date partner. You were pretty sure the embarrassment of that conversation was payment enough in his mind. As you and Jungwoo headed for the nearest hardware store, you swallowed down some of your discomfort, unable to imagine how Jungwoo was feeling in that moment.

“I’m sorry about him, Jungwoo,” you sighed. “He shouldn’t have dragged you into all that.”

He looked down at you curiously. “Do you frequently feel the need to apologize for others’ behavior?”

You blinked at him, caught off-guard. “Uhm... What?”

“You apologized for Donghyuck and Mark being excited and a bit overzealous—in your opinion—when they met me. Now you’re apologizing for Yuta asking for a favor that was inappropriate—again, in your opinion. Do you do that a lot? Feel responsible for what your friends do or say to other people?”

“Well... I mean, no,” you stared down at the shopping list in your hand hard as you thought. “I guess... I’m embarrassed that they’re not behaving better around you.”

“You’re embarrassed of your friends?”

“No, I like them. I like my friends, or I wouldn’t be their friend.” You bit the inside of your cheek. “I mean... they’re not treating you like someone they just met. They’re treating you like they’ve known you for as long as they’ve known the rest of us. You’re supposed to ease into that stuff so you don’t scare people off.”

“That makes me happy,” Jungwoo declared, a soft smile on his face as he looked down at you.

“What? Why?”

“Both that your friends would want to be familiar with me and not treat me like an outsider, and that you’re afraid of their behavior making me uncomfortable,” he explained. “You don’t want me to leave. Of course that makes me happy.”

You felt your eyes widen as you looked up at him. “Well, I mean, I do want you to leave, eventually. Obviously, I want you to go home. But I mean, yeah, I want your time here to be nice, you know? I don’t want you to be back home on Galaria thinking about your time on Earth being bad.”

A strange look flickered across the spaceman’s face then, you could’ve almost sworn it was pained, before the same serene smile came back. “I think I’ll remember my time on Earth very fondly. Really.”

You looped your arm with his, trying to shake the memory of the odd look on his face from your mind, playfully bumping your shoulder into him. “Well then let’s get you off Earth so you can start looking back on it, hm?”

After getting your last few things at the hardware store, you had to wait for the sun to go down before heading back to the beach. The path down to the ship was even more treacherous now that the two of you were loaded up with supplies, but you finally made it there in one piece. Jungwoo didn’t stop in the cockpit this time, leading the way towards the back of the ship, through the narrow hallway. He pressed a button outside a doorway, then when nothing happened, pressed it again. Nothing. He banged his fist against it a couple of times, cursing under his breath.

“What’s in there?” You asked.

“It’s the crew quarters,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “There’s a desk in there. We’ll be a lot more cramped working in the cockpit, but apparently this circuitry got affected too.”

“But we can still do it, right?”

He nodded. “Yeah, yeah.”

You turned around to head back to the front of the ship. “Then let’s get started.”

Jungwoo seemed to be able to do much of the repairs on his own. You shone the flashlight on the work area, handed him tools and parts when requested, or held small pieces so they didn’t roll away from him. It was a bit cramped sitting on the floor of the cockpit behind the seats, it obviously wasn’t designed with this purpose in mind, and Jungwoo’s long limbs only made the space feel even smaller.

“Can you move the light here?” He requested, pointing to the side of the device that was facing him.

You scooted closer, trying to maneuver your phone around without blocking his vision with it. “How’s that?”

He shook his head. “I still can’t—”

“Hold on.” You scooted around behind him instead, pointing the flashlight from over his shoulder. “What about this?”

Jungwoo was quiet for a beat, and you peered around to try to look him in the eye.

“Jungwoo?”

“That’s perfect,” he answered, eyes focused down at object in his hands. “Is your arm getting tired?”

That was the first time you really noticed the ache in your limb from holding up your phone for so long. “Yeah, a little, I guess.”

“You can rest it on my shoulder, if you want.”

“Oh, thanks.” You lowered your arm until it was propped up by his shoulder, making sure you adjusted your grip on your phone to keep your light on the same place. “Light still good?”

“Yes, thank you.”

As he kept working, you quietly watched his deft fingers move over the pieces. “So how do you know how to do all this?”

“I fly a lot,” he answered, his attention held by the parts in his hands as he was trying to precisely line up two of them.

“Yeah, but I mean, I have a driver’s license and I couldn’t change a flat tire, gun to my head, much less fix up the whole car if I crashed it off the side of a mountain,” you scoffed.

“You’re allowed to pilot a vehicle that you’re unable to repair yourself?”

“We have mechanics and stuff for that. Are you saying you’re not allowed to get your spaceship pilot’s license or whatever on Galaria without knowing how to build one from scratch?”

“You’re required to have a certain engineering proficiency to get your solo pilot’s license, yes.”

“Ah, you have a specialty license, then.”

“Yes, I do. It’s a requirement in case you ever find yourself in circumstances like this.”

“Crash landed on an alien planet and stranded with a busted ship?”

“Yes.”

You noticed that he had paused his machinations as you were talking. “Sorry, am I distracting you?”

“No, this is all I can do tonight. The adhesive needs to cure for some time before I can continue working.” He carefully set the part down. “I should be able to resume tomorrow night, I believe.”

“Sounds good to me.” You yawned and stretched your arms over your head. “I’ve got work tomorrow anyway.”

“And what job do you do?” Jungwoo asked with intrigue as the two of you stood up.

“Reception at a law firm.” You could feel your nose habitually wrinkle with disdain.

“You don’t like it?” He immediately surmised.

Thankfully, the two of you were climbing out of the ship then, and had to stay silent through your trek up from the beach. You had time to think about how to answer his question as you climbed back up to the main roadway.

Finally, as the two of you started the walk down the shoulder of the highway, you let out a huff and said, “The work is fine, I guess. Except I hate being talked down to and belittled by people on the phone who think I’m stupid just because they’re attorneys and I’m not, or because I’m a woman, or I’m young, or because I’m just a receptionist or whatever. And I hate when they start yelling at me for no fucking reason, and I hate when people are in the office and start being fucking rude to me and I’m supposed to just sit there and take it. And I hate that in between all of that, it’s fucking boring. It constantly fluctuates between being so stressful and so goddamn boring I want to bang my head against a wall either way.”

“So... you don’t like it?” he asked again, head tilted with clear confusion on his features.

“It’s a job,” you replied flatly. “I need to eat. Do you like your job?”

“Yes, quite,” he replied quietly. After a pause, he questioned, “What sort of work do you want to do, then?”

“I wish I didn’t have to.” You let out a cynical chuckle, looking up at the sparse dotting of stars above you as the hum of the city streets started up around you again. “I mean, I’ve always wanted to see more of the world, just do more, learn more. And now that I know that aliens are real—” You looked over at Jungwoo wistfully. “I don’t think I’ll ever be happy behind a desk again. You know?”

Jungwoo met your eyes, his lips parted as he couldn’t seem to respond for a moment.

You shook your head at yourself, looking back down at your feet and the concrete below them. Forcing humor back into your tone, you apologized, “Sorry, sorry. Of course you don’t know, you’re criss-crossing galaxies all the time, huh? You’ve got enough problems of your own right now anyway, you don’t need mine too.”

A large hand grabbed yours, cool to the touch and surprisingly firm as it squeezed yours. You could feel the callouses on Jungwoo’s hand where his skin pressed against yours. Shifting your gaze from your shoes back up to the alien, you furrowed your brow curiously, but made no move to pull away.

“Please, give them to me,” he said. “And when I leave, you can imagine that I’m taking all your problems with me, to somewhere very far away from here.”

It was your turn to be speechless for a moment, and the only thing that kept you from skidding to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk was the sea of other pedestrians keeping your momentum moving forward. Your skin got hotter, and you wondered if Jungwoo could feel it where he was holding your hand.

In an instinctive bid to diffuse the tension that was currently squeezing all the air from your lungs, you gave his shoulder a friendly bump as you teased, “Alright, well here’s a new problem: That’s quite possibly the most romantic thing anybody’s ever said to me, and I’m 100% sure you didn’t even do that on purpose.”

“I—”

“And our next problem—” You plowed right past whatever Jungwoo was about to say, still fighting the prickle along your skin where you knew his eyes were. “Unfortunately, it’s not Bring Your Alien to Work Day tomorrow, so do you think you’ll be okay at my apartment by yourself all day? Or do you want me to see if some of the guys can keep you company?”

“While I don’t want to inconvenience anybody, if somebody has time, I wouldn’t mind seeing more of the city.”

“Sure, I’ll find someone.” You immediately took your phone out to text your top choice.

[you: are you busy tomorrow? i need someone to hang out with jungwoo while im at work]

[yonggie: i have a few errands to run and a few of us were talking abt seeing a movie in the afternoon. he’s welcome to tag along!]

[yonggie: unless the grocery store and stuff is going too be too boring?? i can do it another day and we can do something else!]

[you: i just feel bad keeping him cooped up in my apartment by himself all day. im sure he’ll have plenty of fun going grocery shopping with you. he’s never seen a human grocery store, after all]

[yonggie: sounds like a plan! let him know i’ll be by around 10ish!]

[you: thanks yonggie, i owe you]

“Taeyong is free tomorrow,” you announced to Jungwoo. “You haven’t really met him yet, but he was there when we found you. You don’t mind tagging along with him while he runs a few errands, do you? He’ll be going all around the city, I’m sure. Oh, and it sounded like some of the guys might be doing a movie later, too.”

“Thank you, Y/N,” Jungwoo smiled down at you. “For everything.”

You smiled and lightly elbowed him again. “Like I said, I want you to have good memories of Earth.”

A few more days passed by like that, with you finding various friends to leave Jungwoo with during the day while you went to your dreadfully boring job, then the two of you would eat dinner together before heading off to the beach to work on his spaceship until late. Tonight in particular, you didn’t have much to help with, as he was able to prop up a spare flashlight you’d gotten from the hardware store for illumination as he worked.

“When do you think we’ll be done tonight?” You asked, spinning the cockpit seat around as you unfocused your eyes, letting the colorful lights become hazy blurs and streaks in your vision.

“Soon,” he answered shortly as he usually did when he was focused. “Do you have something you need to do?”

“The guys are going out.” You read the texts on your phone as they streamed in. “They invited me and you, by the way.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, Jaehyun just got promoted to assistant professor, so we’re celebrating.” You stopped your spinning to watch him work again, but found that he had stalled his ministrations. “It’ll be at least two or three nightclubs; if you’re not up for that, that’s fine.”

“They invited me?” He repeated, brow furrowed as he had clearly not been expecting that.

You couldn’t help but laugh and pat the back of his head fondly. “Yeah, Jungwoo, they like you. It’s also definitely a bit of novelty, you know—‘Hey let’s see if we can get the alien shitfaced’—but I won’t let them mess with you.”

“Yes, I’d like to go with you.” He smiled, looking back down at the contraption in his hands. “It won’t be much longer.”

Knocking on the front door of a very familiar apartment, you bounced on your toes as you waited for one of the occupants to answer. It was Johnny who opened the door, eyes lingering on Jungwoo behind you before he went to give you a hug. “Hey, kid. How are you?”

“Good, good. How are you, John?” You patted his back them dropped back down onto flat feet.

“Same old, you know?” He grinned and shrugged, then finally addressed Jungwoo. “Hey, man. How’s your side?”

“Fine, good. Thank you,” Jungwoo answered hastily, offering a polite nod.

“Jae!” You called into the apartment, latching onto Jungwoo’s wrist and dragging him over to Jaehyun’s closed bedroom door. You banged on the door. “Jaehyun! Come on, it’s me, your favorite!”

The door opened a second later, Jaehyun looking at you stone-faced as he buttoned up his shirt. “You claim you’re everyone’s favorite.”

“I am! Aren’t I?” You grinned.

“Can’t a guy get dressed in his own apartment in peace? Bother Johnny.” He was about to close the door in your face when you stuck your foot in the way.

“Can Jungwoo borrow some clothes?” You requested sweetly, batting your eyelashes at him.

Jaehyun looked the alien up and down skeptically. “He’s already wearing my clothes.”

“He can’t go to the club in a sweatshirt and jeans!”

Your friend sighed and opened the door wider, jerking his head in a gesture for you two to come in.

“Thank you!” You squealed, pulling Jungwoo in with you.

Jaehyun sat on his bed as you started rifling through his closet for something for Jungwoo to wear. Pulling a couple shirts down first, you held them up to the spaceman, humming to yourself as you compared how they looked on them. You clicked your tongue and shook your head, putting one back and looking for another. With two new shirts, you held them up again, nodding in satisfaction. “Yeah, I like that a lot better.”

“He’s not a doll, Y/N,” Jaehyun snorted. “Go ahead, Jungwoo, you can tell her not to play dress-up with you.”

Jungwoo rubbed the back of his neck, the iridophores on his cheeks flashing as he shifted awkwardly in place. “I don’t mind it, really…”

“And that’s how I ended up as the first and only victim of Y/N’s Barber Shop when I was eight.” Johnny had joined the three of you, leaning in the bedroom doorway with his arms crossed over his chest.

“You say that like your hair didn’t grow back,” you scoffed. “I didn’t take your ear off or anything.”

“Just my dignity.”

“And who gave me the scissors?”

Johnny held his hands up in surrender, making his roommate laugh.

“Johnny’s always been a pushover when it comes to Y/N,” Jaehyun explained to Jungwoo, still chuckling. “Ever since they were kids.”

“Alright guys, listen up!” You called for their focus loudly. “This is going to be one of the most important questions I ask you in our entire lives.”

Johnny and Jaehyun gave you two very similar amused but attentive looks, while Jungwoo beheld you with absolutely rapt attention.

You held up the two shirts that you had narrowed your selection to for Jungwoo. “White lace or black silk?”

“He’s not wearing those jeans, is he?” Johnny cocked his head.

“God no,” you shook your head. “Or the sneakers. I’m thinking simple black pants and boots. His necklace will go good with both, right?” You pointed to the gold transcoder that rested below his collarbones.

“White.” Jaehyun pointed.

“Black.” Johnny shrugged.

“Helpful.” You glared at them. Turning to Jungwoo, you held up the tops. “What do you think? Do you even like them at all? These are just my favorites, you can pick something else if you want.”

“I like them,” Jungwoo reassured you, fingertips gently running over the front of one shirt, then the other. “Which is your favorite?”

“I think the black silk?” You appraised it again. “Yeah, I like the neckline, and I think the material will move really nice for a night out, you know?”

“That’s what I was thinking.”

You handed him that hanger and put the other back in the closet where you found it. Looking at the owner of the room, you prompted, “Jae, you’ll get him the right pants and stuff, right?”

“Sure,” he nodded and stood up, teasing glint in his eye. “It’s not like we’re meant to be celebrating my accomplishments tonight or anything. I’m just a butler, really.”

“Great, thanks!” You grinned back, traipsing out of the room with Johnny.

A few minutes later, Jaehyun joined the two of you in the living room, sitting down on the couch and pulling his shoes on. “So, anything new, Y/N?” He asked innocently.

“You mean, other than the alien living in my apartment?” You raised an eyebrow at him. “Not really, work’s the same.”

“You’re still at that shit place?” Johnny didn’t hide his distaste of your workplace.

“Yup.” You replied flatly.

“I thought you said you were looking for new jobs.”

“One, you said that. I didn’t agree to anything. Two, I am, the job market sucks right now, John.”

“Have you even interviewed anywhere? Submitted your résumé?”

“God, not this again…” Jaehyun groaned from his spot between you two on the couch.

“Not everybody can inherit a veterinary practice once their mentor retires and have their life made,” you snapped, turning to glare at Johnny pointedly.

“My life’s made? I’m still paying off my student loans, you know that, right?” He scoffed. “Not to mention how much free morphine I’ve been giving your buddy in there just the past few days.”

“I told you I’ll pay you back once he’s better, you said not to worry about it, and now you’re holding it over my head!” You said in disbelief. “God, this is just like you!”

“‘Just like me?’”

“Yes, you always nag me about shit like you think I can’t do anything, and insist on handling things for me instead of letting me do it, then just turn right around to use that as further proof that I can’t do anything on my own!” You were about to launch to your feet when Jaehyun caught your arm and urged you back into your seat.

“Woah, woah,” Jaehyun looked back and forth between you two. “Time out. You’re both right and you’re both wrong. Johnny, we get that you’re coming from a good place, but obviously Y/N feels patronized with the way you treat her. Y/N, Johnny has a lot going on too that you’re ignoring on purpose to make him seem like the bad guy, which also isn’t fair.”

Johnny pushed some of his hair out of his face as he stared ahead at the TV across the room, obviously refusing to meet your eyes now. You crossed your arms over your chest and flopped back against the cushions, not looking at either of them. You’ve never been great at apologizing first.

“You two aren’t making up before we go out, are you?” Jaehyun rubbed his face.

“No.” “Nope.”

Jaehyun’s bedroom door opened then, Jungwoo hesitantly stepping out, still fussing with the shirt. When he looked up, the searching look fell from his face as he obviously could sense the tension in the room, turning cautious instead.

“Is everything alright?” While his question was general, his eyes were focused on you when he asked.

“Yeah, Jungwoo!” You forced a cheery smile again, jumping to your feet as you appraised his outfit. “I love being right. It looks so handsome on you!”

“Ah, well…” He rubbed the back of his neck again as you walked around him, brushing off a spare piece of fluff from his back. “Thank you.”

“What do you guys think?” You asked the other two proudly, looping your arm with Jungwoo’s.

“Yeah, he looks—”

“Fine. Can we go now?” Johnny cut his roommate off, grabbing his keys and walking over to the door.

“Rude,” you muttered under your breath, but followed the other two with a roll of your eyes nevertheless.

“Congrats!” Everybody cheered in unison, clinking their glasses together.

“Thanks, guys,” Jaehyun beamed at you all, bringing his drink to his lips.

“So are you like tenure track now, or what?” Doyoung prompted him eagerly.

“Yes, I am,” he announced proudly. “I’m no longer instructional, I’m academic.”

All your friends let out a chorus of jesting but supportive ‘ooh’s at that, and you squeezed his arm from beside him. “Look at you, a real academic now. Knew that big head was good for something.”

“You little—” He went to tousle your hair. You let out an ‘eep!’ and jerked away from his hand, back into Jungwoo on your other side.

“Sorry!” You laughed through your apology to the alien, patting his arm as he hadn’t been knocked very far back at least. “You alright, Jungwoo?”

“Yes, I’m okay,” he reassured you with a fond smile.

“Now, are you absolutely sure you can have that?” You pointed to the drink that you had helped him order. After realizing that for some reason he immediately knew what morphine was, but his transcoder was failing on what alcohol was, you’d explained the drink—with some assistance from your friends and Google—to him to make sure it wasn’t going to kill him, but you noticed that he hadn’t yet actually taken a sip yet.

“Yes, yes.” He lifted the glass again.

“If morphine doesn’t get you high, I wonder if alcohol is even going to do anything to do you,” Johnny mused, slowly nursing his liquor.

“Take it slow, drink water, and even though we ate before we came, keep eating while we’re here, okay?” You told Jungwoo, shooting Johnny a glare over the spaceman’s shoulder.

He nodded, and with that, you grabbed your own drink, clinked it to his one more time, and drained half of it in one go. You watched his face carefully, both for any sign that he was in imminent danger, and in the vent that he was fine, if he liked the drink you’d picked. You’d chosen a cocktail on the sweeter side for him, a fruity, bubbly, unnaturally bright colored one that a couple of the guys had snickered at, which he either didn’t notice or didn’t care about. Jungwoo didn’t immediately go into anaphylactic shock, which you pocketed as a win. Just like when he tried Nutella for the first time, his eyes widened with delight before he went back in for more.

You couldn’t help but laugh and pat his head fondly. “Pace yourself,” you reminded him.

He set it down and smiled sheepishly. “Right. Thanks.”

Hyuck and Yuta had disappeared at some point, as they were now returning to your table with a round of shots for everybody. You shook your head, but picked yours up and knocked it back with everyone else. Jungwoo watched you, taking your lead. While the rest of you had various hisses and negative reactions to the tequila you were now realizing they had gotten you, Jungwoo seemed unaffected by the burn as he calmly set the shot glass down.

“Ugh, did you guys get motor oil or something?” Johnny pushed his glass away from him with distaste.

“Cheapest shit they had,” Yuta informed him smugly. “Afraid real motor oil tastes better than that.”

“I’m going to get us some waters,” you told Jungwoo before slipping off into the crowd.

You watched the bartender quickly fill up your two glasses with ice, then water. Right as he had pushed them over to you, you became aware of someone sidling up to you at the bar and grabbing your hip. You whipped around and jerked away to put distance between yourself and the newcomer, a complete stranger to you.

He chuckled at how he had startled you, stepping closer to you once again. “Woah, sorry, baby.”

“It’s fine,” you replied flatly, reaching for your waters to turn to leave.

“Hey, I did want to talk to you.”

“No thanks.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“I don’t want to.” You didn’t like that he had started shifting in front of you, putting himself between you and the rest of the club, blocking you against the bar.

“Y/N!” A familiar voice called your name as a taller figure pushed past the stranger, securing your arm in his hand. Johnny fixed the man with a hard stare before looking at you again, “There you are. Come on, we’re toasting Jaehyun again.”

“Right,” you smiled up at your friend, letting him half-pull you away from the bar. The other man didn’t say a word, letting you go as he disappeared into the crowd as well.

Halfway back to your table, you reluctantly mumbled a sharp ‘thanks’ to Johnny’s back. He must’ve heard you somehow over the thumping music, as he looked back over his shoulder at you, his eyes softening for just a moment as he nodded once, before continuing to clear a path for the two of you back to your other friends.

You wormed your way back into your spot between Jungwoo and Jaehyun, pushing Jungwoo’s glass against his arm. “Here.”

“Thank you.” His eyes didn’t leave you, seemingly scanning you over with worry. “Are you alright?”

“Huh? Yeah, fine.” You shook your head to clear away the memory.

“I’m sorry, I realized that man was making you uncomfortable, but I wasn't sure what to do. Johnny told me to stay here while he went over.”

“Oh, that’s okay, Jungwoo.” You assured him. “We can't have you getting punched defending me and bleed blue all over the place. Thanks for keeping an eye on me and telling Johnny, though.”

“But—”

“Hey, you know what?” You flashed him a smile, already starting to feel warm and airy from the alcohol. “I want to dance. How about you come with? Creepy guys should stay away if I’m already with someone.”

“Sure,” he nodded for you to lead the way.

You grabbed his hand and pulled him away from the table and into the outer edge of the dance floor. Putting your hands on his shoulders, you tilted your head, “Is this okay?”

“Yeah, should I…?”

You took his hands that were uncertainly hovering in the air and put them on your hips before returning your own to his shoulders. “There. Also, sorry.”

“For what?”

As soon as his question was out of his mouth, you inadvertently stepped on his foot, a sheepish smile flashing across your face. “I’m not a very good dancer,” you admitted. “Sorry.”

He chuckled. “That’s okay.”

“Hey, you’re pretty good,” you laughed as he kept up with the rhythm and also kept you from being a general hazard.

“Thank you.”

“Do you have places like this where you’re from?” You were careful not to say anything out of the ordinary to hint that ‘where he was from’ was actually outer space.

“Residents from elsewhere have brought similar nightclubs to our larger cities,” he informed you. “I’ve visited a few.”

“You a party boy?” You grinned.

“I’m not sure about that,” he was smiling as well. “But I’m enjoying myself with you, Y/N. Thank you.”

“I’m having fun too, Jungwoo,” you replied sincerely. Your toe caught on his shoe then, and you squeaked as you stumbled forward towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck to catch yourself from completely face-planting into his collarbone. His hands on your waist steadied you, and you smiled up at him sheepishly. “Sorry. Thanks.”

“You’re not usually this clumsy.”

“I’m a bit tipsy,” you whispered loudly. “Alcohol and motor function… not good.”

“Ah, I see.”

“Can I stay right here?” You requested sweetly, watching his patches of iridescent freckles flash and sparkle in the lights that pulsed across the dance floor. “You’re surprisingly sturdy, and your irido-irido—you know—are so pretty…”

“Of course,” Jungwoo readjusted to hold you more securely. “Do you want to sit down?”

“No.” You shook your head, starting to sway in his arms to the music. “I like this song.”

A warm puff of air washed over your ear as he chuckled. “I like it too.”

Sometime later in the night, you were sat in a booth at a different nightclub, slowly draining a water that Doyoung had pushed in front of you. Your other friends were somewhere in the club, only Jungwoo next to you. His cheeks were a little pink, but that could easily be from the body heat, as you were pretty sure you hadn’t seen him drink anything but water since your first stop of the night.

“Hey, Jungwoo?” You looked over at him with your cheek in your palm, supported by your elbow on the table.

“Yes?” He met your gaze without hesitation.

“Do—” You were cut off by a hiccup. “Do you think you’ll remember me? After you leave, once it’s been a while?”

“What?” He blinked at you, face turning oddly stern as he placed his hand over yours on the table. “Yes, Y/N. I don’t think I could ever forget you.”

“Oh. Do Galarii have photographic memory or something?”

“No.”

“But…” Another hiccup. “Don’t you go to all these places and meet so many people and do all sorts of stuff all the time? Like, of course I’m gonna remember the one alien I ever met, but why would you—”

Jungwoo turned to hold your hand with both of his. “Do you really think that you’re so insignificant? Or that I’m so… indifferent?”

“No, Jungwoo, I just—” You took your hand back to brush your fingertips over his iridophores under one eye. “I guess it’s kinda like how you don’t think these are anything special.”

“Y/N, if you remember only one thing from meeting me, please…” He shifted forward slightly, nothing but sincerity on his features. “No matter where I’ve gone, I’ve never met anyone who wasn’t special. Including you.”

You felt your bottom lip quiver, and regretted that last shot you let Yuta and Donghyuck talk you into. As soon as you blinked, the tears fell, rolling quickly down your cheeks. You buried your face in Jungwoo’s shoulder, grabbing a fistful of the silk material of his shirt.

“I’m… sorry?” He said quietly, gingerly patting your back.

“She crying?” Johnny’s voice came from behind you.

“Yes, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine, she’s an emotional drunk after she’s partied herself out,” Johnny reassured the alien. A gentle hand landed on your head. “Hey, Y/N, time to go home.”

“That’s my shirt!” Jaehyun said indignantly, having also returned to your booth.

“I’ll clean it before I return it,” Jungwoo promised.

“Y/N,” Johnny called for you again in a sing-songy tone. “Come on, let’s go home.”

You lifted your head enough to sloppily wipe at your face, Jungwoo helping to push some hair back. Squinting at Johnny, you asked, “You’re taking me home?”

“Yeah, I’m taking you home,” he confirmed.

“But I thought you were mad at me?”

“I’m never that mad, kid, promise.”

“Do you need help, Johnny?” Jaehyun offered, then looked at Jungwoo. “Or are you going now too?”

“I’m going back with her,” Jungwoo immediately replied.

Johnny helped you scoot out of the booth, and on uneasy feet, you threw your arms around Jaehyun to give him one final congrats. Johnny took you back from your professor friend to half-guide, half-carry you out of the nightclub, Jungwoo following behind. Out front, Johnny cursed under his breath as he looked around.

“Jungwoo.” He waved the alien over. “Stay with her while I bring the car around, will you?”

“Of course.” Jungwoo immediately took your arm from Johnny’s grasp, steadying you as you swayed in place. Johnny gave the two of you one last uncertain look before taking off around the corner. You stepped closer to Jungwoo, leaning your weight against him as you let out a heavy sigh.

“I’m sorry about him…” You said. “He should be nicer to you.”

“It’s okay,” Jungwoo responded, shifting to support you with an arm around your waist as your knees buckled for a moment. “He’s concerned for you, which I’m glad for.”

“I wish he’d stop treating me like a kid, though,” you huffed. “He literally calls me ‘kid.’”

“Is this why you were so curious that I didn’t know if my brother was older or younger?”

“Does he treat you like a grown-up?”

“He had some concerns with my career path at first,” he informed you, some amusement in his tone. “But I also worry for his safety.”

“I worry about Johnny,” you insisted. “I just… don’t make him feel stupid for it when I do.”

Johnny’s car stopped in front of you two then, and Jungwoo helped you into the backseat. He gently brushed your hands away so he could do your seatbelt for you—which took a few attempts, admittedly—and let you rest your head on his shoulder for the entire ride back to your apartment.

After a lot of insisting, you finally got Johnny to leave your home. You were tucked into bed in your pajamas with a glass of water, and heard Jungwoo eventually close the front door behind Johnny.

“Jungwoo!” You called for the alien loudly, not really caring about the time or your neighbors.

“Yes?” His head immediately poked into your room, eyes focused on you attentively.

“C’mere.” You patted the empty space next to you. He walked over to sit down, but as soon as he had, you shooed him away, “Wait, no! You should get into your pajamas too.”

“Alright. One moment.” He nodded and smiled softly. A few minutes later, Jungwoo emerged from the bathroom no longer in Jaehyun’s nice clothes but in Jaehyun’s sweatpants and t-shirt. He sat down cross-legged on top of the covers. “Better?”

“I’m tired,” you rolled over onto your side towards him.

“I’ll let you rest, then.” He moved to get off the bed, but you grabbed his arm and stopped him.

“Wait.” You yawned. “Can you stay for a bit?”

“As long as you wish.” He acquiesced easily.

“Can you…” Another yawn. “Can you tell me some more about Galaria?”

He shifted the arm that you had grasped to hold your hand instead. “Sure. If you’ll close your eyes.”

“You’re trying to make me go to sleep.”

“Hmm, maybe,” he hummed.

You snickered, but let your eyelids flutter shut anyway. “Hey, Jungwoo?”

“Yes?”

“I’m really gonna miss you once you go.” You squeezed his hand as you shifted around to get comfortable under your covers.

There was a stretch of silence so long that you were almost tempted to open your eyes again, but before you could, he squeezed your hand back and spoke again, voice sounding slightly strained, “I’ll miss you too, Y/N. A lot.” He cleared his throat, then continued, “So, Galaria…”

In the morning, you groaned before you even had a single human thought. You instinctually rolled away from your window, where the faintest halo of light was coming in from around your curtains, burying your face into your pillow. And then your stomach lurched. Heaving yourself to your feet with some speed, you hurried into your bathroom, not even bothering with the light before kneeling at the toilet. Thankfully, nothing came back up, and after a few minutes, you got back to steady-ish feet. Looking back at your dim bedroom, you saw it devoid of anybody else, which you were mildly surprised about. You faintly remembered going to sleep with Jungwoo sitting next to you. He had no clue about human customs, for all you knew, Galarii wouldn’t have thought it strange to share a bed. You knocked back something for your stomach and the pounding in your head before treading out towards the living room. You were going to feel a little uneasy until you put eyes on your alien houseguest.

He was sitting upright on the couch, and stood up as soon as he saw you walking out, a relieved smile on his features. “Ah, you’re awake. How are you feeling? Johnny said I should make you breakfast—”

“That’s alright, Jungwoo, I’m not very hungry right now,” you admitted. “Maybe later. How are you? Anything from the alcohol?”

“I’m fine.” He frowned. “Are you okay?”

“Honestly, I’m not feeling well, Jungwoo.” You touched your forehead, giving him an apologetic smile. “I think I’m going to lay down for a bit. Will you be good out here?”

He looked at you anxiously. “What’s wrong?”

“Just a headache. I’ll be fine,” you reassured him. “Do you need anything before I—”

“Can I go with you?”

“…Into my room? That’s right down the hall? While I nap off a hangover?” You arched an eyebrow, pointing at your bedroom next to the living room.

He nodded.

“What? Did you imprint on me like a baby duck or something?” You joked, stretching and yawning.

“I don’t know what ducks are nor the imprinting habits of their young, but yes.”

“You don’t really need to know what ducks are, but baby ducks—Wait, what?!” Your brain finally processed the rest of his words, and you stared at him wide-eyed.

“I’m not sure if the term is used the same, but I imagine it’s a similar concept.”

“You think I’m your mom?!”

It was his turn to look at you with bewilderment. “No, of course not.”

You put a hand over your chest, relieved. “Okay, God, I had a heart attack.”

“You’re my mate,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Excuse me?!” And your blood pressure was back through the roof.

“Lover? I’m not sure the term…” Jungwoo scratched the back of his neck.

You held your hands out defensively, trying to calm yourself down more than anyone else. “Jungwoo, look, we just met like a few days ago.”

“Yes, I’m aware.”

“That’s not nearly enough time to say we’re soulmates or anything.”

His face lit up. “Ahh, soulmates? Is that the word?”

“No!” You immediately shot that down. “Don’t start calling me that.”

“Y/N—”

“What even is this imprinting? Like how do you know it’s happened? Do you do it on purpose? Because if you did, you’ve got to ask people’s permission before doing that kind of thing, dude.”

“It’s not something we have control over. So no, I did not do it intentionally.”

“Oh. Okay.” That only calmed you down marginally.

“It’s…” Jungwoo sank his teeth into his bottom lip as he tried to figure out his words. “I didn’t realize it at first. When you dragged me out of my ship and I first saw you, everything was different. I thought it was the new atmosphere, new gravity, that my body was just adjusting.”

“What do you mean, ‘different’? Different how?”

“Colors are brighter around you—”

“That’s just some cheesy pickup line. It was pitch black when I found you.”

“No, really. Our species’ senses are sharpened around our—”

“Don’t.”

“—when we’ve imprinted, around whoever we’ve imprinted on. To better protect them,” he explained cautiously. “Again, I thought I was just getting used to your planet, but I always know where you are—”

“I tell you where I’m going when I leave.”

“I don’t mean like that. It’s stronger the closer you are, but I just always have this feeling, of where you are. I know you left work yesterday afternoon to go down the street, then went back.”

“I went to the convenience store on my lunch break,” you confirmed with a huff. “Assuming you’re telling the truth and aren’t actively stalking me, I’m guessing that would be another… mechanism to protect that person? That you’re… you know.”

“Yes.”

“What’s even the point of imprinting on me? Or anybody that’s not another Galarii?” You crossed your arms. “My eyes work just fine when you’re not around, and the only way I’d know exactly where you were if I couldn’t see you would be chipping you like a dog.”

“I don’t know.”

You shook your head. “So… you all are just, what? Celibate? Until you eventually find someone to imprint on?”

“Casual relationships aren’t unusual, though many don’t see a point in having such a relationship before imprinting.” He immediately became even more serious. “I’m not inexperienced sexually, if that’s a concern.”

“Oh, God, no!” You covered your face with two hands and groaned. “I was just wondering like… How do you know this imprinting thing is for real? Like, you’re actually ending up with someone good for you, if you don’t have any sort of reference to draw from on what sort of person you like, what you want and don’t want in a relationship?”

“We don’t have to know before, because we’re not picking our… lifelong companion, like I understand you humans do.”

You blinked at him. “Marriage. You’re talking about marriage.”

“Yes. You have to have this set of parameters before you prepare for… marriage. We’re not choosing, so we don’t need such standards. We find.”

“Yeah, but why me? What is it about me that activated your imprinting or whatever the hell?” You couldn’t help the shiver that went up your spine when you said it. “Shouldn’t that be something that only other members of your species can do? Like, evolution-wise?”

“That’s something that my species is still investigating.”

“God, okay…” You rubbed your temples. “Well, my head fucking hurts. I’m going to lay down—alone.”

“Of course.” Jungwoo nodded and stepped back, sitting down on the far side of the couch from you.

Your bed smelled like Jungwoo. You couldn’t nap like this, or even rest your eyes. But you didn’t want to go back out there yet, needing time to let your brain turn over what you’d just been told. So you laid in your bed that smelled like Jungwoo and scrolled on your phone, absentmindedly chewing on the skin around your thumbnail.

⇢ part two

TAGLIST: @bee-the-loser @giirlfriendd @ppddpjdr @shaqs-oatmeal @sofipolii01 @tearinka @yoursyuno @yutasputa69 @winkeuu

[mononijikayu]

cantarella — gojo satoru.

“Satoru.” you called softly, holding up the flower crown you had made. It was a simple creation, woven from a mix of daisies, buttercups, and clover. The flowers were arranged in a delicate, colorful circle, their petals still fresh and dewy from the morning sun. He looked up from his sketchpad, his expression as indifferent as ever, but a hint of curiosity sparkled in his eyes. “What’s that?” he asked, his tone more inquisitive than dismissive. You knelt beside him, holding the flower crown out. “It’s a gift for you.” you said cheerfully. “I made it just for you. I thought you might like to wear it.”

GENRE: Alternate Universe - Nobility;

WARNING/s: Angst, Not Safe For Work (NSFW), Dark Fic, Yandere! Gojo, Toxic One-Sided Romance, One-Sided Incest, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Incest, Hurt/ No Comfort, Character Death, Grief, Mention of Depression, Mention of Mourning, Depiction of Physical Touch, Depiction of Mental Anguish, Depiction of Violence, Depiction of Death, Depiction of Harm, Heavy Angst, Heavy Pining, Please Save Reader;

WORDS: 11k words.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: this was inspired by this version of cantarella by kaito and miku i watched a long long time ago. i remembered about this notes i had about it while sitting and studying for uni. and i wrote it sitting down instead of reading more because inspiration came to me. i hope you enjoy it, even though its a dark fic!!! i love you all <3

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YOU WERE FREE, YOU THINK. As the heavy iron gates of the convent swung open, the world outside flooded your senses, a stark contrast to the cloistered life you’d led for years.

The scent of damp earth and blooming flowers replaced the cold, sterile air of the convent, while the distant hum of life—a world you had been shielded from—pressed in on you. Your eyes blinked against the sudden brightness, the light almost painful after so many years of darkness.

The distant memories of your parents’ tragic deaths haunted you, lingering like a dark cloud over your soul. Their faces were blurred now, softened by time but not forgotten.

The whispers of their absence were loudest in your heart, a constant reminder of the life that had been ripped away from you. Grief had been your only companion, even more than the nuns who had raised you, and now it threatened to drown you as you took your first steps into the world beyond those gates.

Now, as the newly orphaned Duchess, the title weighed heavily on your shoulders, burdened with expectations you weren’t sure you could fulfill. The responsibilities that came with it loomed over you, a shadow of the future that awaited. You had been a child when the world had last known you, but now, the world demanded more—a woman, a Duchess, a leader.

You stepped out into the open, the gravel crunching beneath your feet as the cold wind whispered through the barren trees. The carriage waited in silence, an imposing reminder of the life you were about to inherit—a life you had never asked for. The estate loomed in the distance, its shadowy silhouette framed against a darkening sky.

It was supposed to be home, a sanctuary, yet it felt nothing like it. The sprawling lands, the echoing halls, and the faceless people who would serve you—they were yours now, or so everyone insisted. But as you stood there, shivering in the twilight, you couldn't help but wonder what "yours" truly meant.

Was it the title bestowed upon you, heavy and hollow, that now defined your existence? Or was it the legacy that clung to your name, a legacy built on the sacrifices and sorrows of those who came before?

Perhaps it was the past, a mosaic of memories and losses that had shaped you, leaving cracks in your heart that would never fully heal. And now, as you faced the uncertain road ahead, you realized that your future, too, was bound by these invisible chains. A future where each step would be weighed down by duty, expectation, and the inescapable fear of the unknown.

But despite the fear gnawing at your resolve, despite the weight of the unknown pressing down on your shoulders, you knew there was no turning back. The world outside the convent walls, a world you had once seen only in fleeting dreams, had now become your reality.

A reality where your choices—or lack thereof—would define not just your life, but the lives of those who depended on you. And so, with a heart heavy with dread and determination, you took a deep breath and stepped forward. Ready or not, you had to face it.

The carriage stood before you like a silent sentinel, its dark velvet interior offering little in the way of comfort. The family crest, meticulously embossed on its side, glinted ominously in the fading light, a stark reminder of the bloodline that bound you to this life.

As you approached, the driver, a man of few words and fewer expressions, gave a brief nod, his face as unreadable as the future that awaited you. There was no comfort to be found in his gaze, only the cold efficiency of someone accustomed to serving the powerful.

Climbing into the carriage, you felt the chill of the autumn air seep into your bones, mingling with the dread that clung to your skin. The unfamiliar path ahead stretched out before you, winding through forests and fields that you barely remembered.

Every jolt of the carriage wheels against the rough terrain seemed to echo the uncertainty within you, the sense of being unmoored from everything you once knew. Yet, despite the fear that tightened your chest, a quiet resolve began to build within you. The path was dark, and the journey would be long, but it was yours to take.

As the carriage began to move, you allowed yourself one last glance at the world you were leaving behind. The convent, with its high walls and serene silence, had been a place of refuge, but it was also a cage—one that you had outgrown. The life ahead, with all its unknowns, was daunting, but it was also a chance to carve out a new destiny, one that was truly your own.

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YOU WERE FINALLY HERE. Days had passed before the carriage finally came to a halt. The endless journey had given you time to think, to imagine what awaited you, but nothing could have prepared you for the reality.

The estate loomed large and imposing before you, a testament to the power and wealth that now rested on your shoulders. But it was not the grandeur of the estate that caught your attention as you stepped down from the carriage—it was the man who stood waiting.

Gojo Satoru. Your cousin. The only family you had left.

You had heard of him in whispers and letters, the distant cousin who had managed your affairs while you grew up behind convent walls. The cousin who had wanted to raise you himself but had been overruled by those who deemed it more proper for a young duchess to be sheltered and shaped by the church. A cousin who had become a stranger over the years.

But now, standing before him, you saw just how much he had changed. He had grown handsome, undeniably so. Tall and broad-shouldered, his presence was commanding, his silver hair catching the last rays of the setting sun, giving him an almost ethereal glow.

The dark glasses he wore only added to the air of mystery, concealing his eyes and leaving you to wonder what lay behind them. His lips curled into a smile that was anything but comforting. It was a smile that promised more than a simple welcome; it promised possession.

You were drawn to him, as you had been as a child. The way he moved, the way he spoke—it was as if the world bent to his will. But now, as a woman, you saw the darkness in his gaze, the twisted hunger that had taken root in his heart over the years.

"Cousin." he murmured, his voice smooth and sickly sweet, as if every word was coated in honey, "it’s been too long."

You swallowed hard, trying to steady yourself in his overwhelming presence. "It has, Satoru. I... hardly recognized you."

His smile widened, a flash of white teeth that made your heart skip a beat. "And I, you. But then, how could I recognize someone I’ve only known through letters and rumors? Yet here you are, in the flesh, finally free from those cold walls."

There was something in his tone that made you uneasy, a sharp edge beneath the politeness. "Yes, finally," you replied, your voice quieter than you intended. "Thank you for... taking care of everything while I was away. It must have been a burden."

"Burden?" He chuckled softly, the sound rich and unsettling. "Not at all, my dear. It was a pleasure, truly. I did what any family would do—protect what is ours, and ensure it would be ready for your return.”

“Then…Then, I thank you, cousin.”

Though…." he paused, his gaze lingering on you, "I must admit, I didn’t expect you to have grown into such a… lovely woman."

The way he said it made your skin prickle. There was no mistaking the intent in his words, the way his eyes, hidden though they were, seemed to strip you bare. You took a small step back, trying to reclaim some sense of control.

"I suppose we’ve both changed," you said, keeping your voice as steady as possible. "But we’re still family, Satoru. I hope we can... get to know each other again."

"Indeed," he replied, his voice dropping to a lower, more intimate tone. "Family is everything, after all. And now that you’re here, we can finally be together, as we were always meant to be."

The way he said it sent a chill down your spine. There was something more in his words, something that hinted at a deeper, more dangerous desire. You forced a smile, hoping to mask your unease. "Yes, together. It’s been so long, after all."

He stepped closer, closing the small distance you had created. "Too long, cousin. But now that you’re back, I intend to make up for all the lost time. You and I… we have so much to catch up on."

The finality in his tone left little room for argument, and as he offered his arm to lead you inside, you had no choice but to take it, feeling the warmth of his skin through the fabric of his sleeve. His grip was firm, almost possessive, as he guided you through the grand doors of the estate that would now be your home.

But as you crossed the threshold, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were stepping into something far more dangerous than you had ever imagined. And that the cousin who walked beside you was not just your protector, but something far darker, something you were not sure you could escape.

The estate he led you to was vast, cold, and eerily silent. Each step echoed through the corridors, the sound bouncing off the stone walls that seemed to close in on you with every passing moment. It was a place meant to impress, to awe with its sheer size and grandeur, but all it inspired in you was a deep sense of unease. The shadows seemed longer here, the light dimmer, as if the house itself had secrets it was unwilling to reveal.

Gojo’s hand hovered just above your lower back, never quite touching, but close enough to make you acutely aware of his presence. It was a silent assertion of control, a reminder that he was guiding you, that you were under his protection—or perhaps his possession. The gesture felt more like a threat than a comfort, his proximity sending a shiver down your spine.

As you walked, you noticed the servants—silent, spectral figures who moved quickly to avoid your gaze. Their eyes darted away whenever they saw the two of you, averted as if they knew something you did not, as if they feared something you were only beginning to sense. They kept their distance, and when they spoke, it was in hushed tones, their whispers carried away by the drafty corridors, lost in the vastness of the estate.

The grand halls, adorned with portraits of ancestors long gone, felt more like a mausoleum than a home. The faces in the paintings seemed to watch you with disapproval, their cold eyes following your every move, judging you, questioning your right to be here.

The air was thick with history, but it was a history that felt oppressive, as though the very stones of the house were weighed down by the sins and secrets of those who had lived here before.

Gojo’s voice broke the silence, low and almost conspiratorial. “It’s been a long time since these halls have seen life,” he said, his tone carrying a hint of something unspoken. “I’m afraid the estate has grown as cold as its master in your absence.”

You forced a smile, trying to shake off the unease that clung to you like a second skin. “It’s... it’s very grand,” you replied, struggling to find the right words. “I suppose it will take some getting used to.”

He chuckled softly, the sound devoid of real warmth. “Grand, yes. But it is a lonely place, cousin. One grows accustomed to the silence, to the emptiness, but I’ve always thought it would be different with you here.”

The way he said it made your skin crawl. There was something too intimate in his words, something that suggested his desire for you went far beyond familial affection. You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, but his expression was unreadable behind those dark glasses, his lips curled into that same unsettling smile.

“You’ve taken such good care of everything,” you said, trying to steer the conversation to safer ground. “I’m grateful, truly. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.”

His smile widened, but there was no joy in it, only something dark and possessive. “There’s no need for repayment,” he murmured, his voice dipping into a more dangerous register. “You’re here now, and that’s all I’ve ever wanted. We’re family, after all.”

Family. The word echoed in your mind, but it felt hollow, like a cage closing in around you. The estate, the title, the wealth—it was all yours, but at what cost? And as Gojo led you deeper into the heart of the mansion, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being led into something far darker, something that would be much harder to escape.

At last, you reached what appeared to be a sitting room, the heavy doors creaking as Gojo pushed them open. The room was dimly lit, a fire crackling weakly in the hearth, casting flickering shadows on the walls. The furniture was old but well-kept, the upholstery dark and rich, but it did little to warm the cold atmosphere of the room.

“This will be your sanctuary,” Gojo said, guiding you inside. “A place to rest, to think, to remember that this is your home now.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of his words. As you looked around, the reality of your situation began to sink in. This was your home, your life now. But the estate that should have been a sanctuary felt more like a prison, and the man who should have been your protector felt more like a captor.

“I’ll leave you to get settled, cousin.” Gojo said, finally stepping back, though his presence lingered in the room long after he had left. “But don’t be a stranger, cousin. We have much to discuss, and I’ve been waiting a long time for this.”

As the door closed behind him, the silence of the room enveloped you, cold and suffocating. You were alone now, but the shadow of Gojo’s presence lingered, and you knew that this was only the beginning.

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YOU WERE THE CENTER OF THE WORLD. Or at least that’s what Satoru had said when he told you that society celebrated your return with much joy.  A ball was to take place in your honor, a grand affair meant to celebrate your return to the echelons of noble society.

The thought of it filled you with a mix of excitement and dread. After years of isolation, the idea of stepping into a room filled with the most powerful and influential members of the ton was daunting. You could already hear the whispers, feel the weight of their expectations. 

Your reflection in the mirror stared back at you, a stranger dressed in silks and jewels. The gown you wore was exquisite, a deep sapphire that brought out the color of your eyes, the neckline adorned with pearls that once belonged to your mother. But despite the finery, you couldn’t help but feel exposed, vulnerable in a way you hadn’t since leaving the convent.

A soft knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts, and before you could respond, Satoru entered the room. He moved with an easy grace, his presence commanding and almost overwhelming. Dressed in a tailored black suit that accentuated his broad shoulders and tall frame, he was every bit the image of a duke, a man who could have anything and anyone he desired.

His eyes, hidden behind those dark glasses, seemed to pierce through you as he approached. “Nervous, cousin?” he asked, his voice smooth and laced with amusement.

You tried to smile, but it felt forced. But you could not help it, to be this nervous. To feel like you were going to vomit and find yourself in fright. This was your social debut, after being far away from your kind for so long.

“A little.” you admitted, your hands twisting together in your lap. “I haven’t been to a ball since I was a child. I don’t even know how to behave anymore.”

Satoru’s smile was gentle, but there was that ever-present edge to it, a darkness that lingered just beneath the surface. He stepped closer, taking one of your hands in his. His touch was warm, firm, and it steadied you, even as your heart raced beneath your chest.

“Don’t be.” he murmured, lifting your hand to his lips. He pressed a kiss to the back of it, the gesture both tender and possessive. “None can rival your beauty, or your existence. You will be the brightest star in the room tonight, and they will all fall at your feet.”

The way he spoke sent a shiver down your spine. His words were meant to reassure you, but there was something almost predatory in them, as if he was not merely presenting you to society, but staking his claim on you before them all.

“I just… I want to make a good impression.” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I am a duchess of the realm. I must do well. For our family."

“You will, cousin. Do not worry much.” Satoru replied, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles. “But remember, you have nothing to prove to them. You are the Duchess, the true heir to this estate. They should be the ones worrying about impressing you.”

You looked up at him, searching his face for any sign of doubt, but all you saw was confidence, a certainty that made you feel both comforted and trapped. There was no escaping the life you had returned to, and Satoru was a constant reminder of that.

“I’m here, by your side,” he continued, his voice a low, soothing murmur. “No one will dare speak ill of you. Not with me watching over you.”

His words wrapped around you like a protective veil, and despite the unease that still lingered, you felt a flicker of hope. Perhaps this night wouldn’t be as terrifying as you feared. Perhaps, with Satoru by your side, you could navigate the treacherous waters of noble society.

“Thank you,” you said softly, your fingers curling slightly around his as you let yourself lean into his presence, if only for a moment. 

“Think nothing of it,” he replied, his smile growing wider, more possessive. “Tonight is just the beginning. And I’ll make sure they all know that you belong to me.”

With that, he offered you his arm, guiding you out of the room and toward the grand hall where the ball was to take place. The music had already started, the sound of violins and piano filling the air with an elegant melody. 

As you stepped into the room, all eyes turned to you, and for a brief moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. You could feel the weight of their gazes, the scrutiny, the admiration. But Satoru’s hand on yours was a constant anchor, a reminder that no matter what, you were not alone.

And as the night unfolded, with dance after dance, with whispered conversations and stolen glances, you realized that Satoru’s words had not been an empty promise. You were indeed the brightest star in the room, and every person who approached you did so with a mix of awe and reverence. But beneath it all, you could feel the shadow of Satoru’s presence, always there, always watching.

And though you smiled and played your part, there was a part of you that wondered just how deep that shadow, and how much of yourself you would lose to the man who claimed to protect you.

As the evening progressed and the ballroom filled with the sounds of laughter and music, the time for dancing arrived. You had been introduced to countless faces, each more eager than the last to make a connection with the newly returned Duchess. But all the introductions and small talk had left you feeling exhausted, your nerves frayed by the constant attention.

Then, as if sensing your unease, a man approached you. He was tall, with a calm demeanor that immediately set him apart from the others. His hair was blond, neatly combed, and his sharp features were softened by the warm, sincere expression on his face. He bowed gracefully before you, his eyes meeting yours with a quiet intensity that made your breath catch.

"Your Grace," he said, his voice steady and kind, "may I have the honor of this dance?"

You hesitated for only a moment before placing your hand in his, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. There was something about him—something genuine, something safe—that made you feel at ease in a way you hadn’t all night.

"Of course," you replied, allowing him to lead you to the center of the dance floor.

The music swelled as the two of you began to dance, moving in perfect harmony with the waltz. Unlike the others who had tried to impress you with their skills or status, this man—Count Nanami Kento, as you had been told—was different.

He was careful with you, his touch gentle as he guided you through the steps. His eyes never left yours, and in them, you saw not the hunger or ambition you had grown accustomed to, but something else entirely—kindness, understanding, and a quiet admiration that made your heart flutter.

With each turn, each graceful movement across the polished floor, the weight of the world seemed to lift from your shoulders. The laughter and chatter of the ballroom, once so overwhelming, now faded into a distant hum, a backdrop to the moment unfolding between you and Nanami.

The lights softened, the grand chandeliers casting a warm glow over the sea of dancers, yet all you could focus on was the man guiding you effortlessly through the crowd. His touch was gentle yet firm, his presence steady, grounding you in the here and now.

As you glided together, Nanami spoke in a voice so soft it felt like a secret shared between the two of you. He asked about your life, your thoughts, your dreams—questions that were simple, yet carried a depth that surprised you.

His gaze never wavered, and the way he listened made you feel as if every word you spoke was of utmost importance. There was no rush, no need to impress; just a quiet, sincere interest that drew you in.

Nanami was a world apart from the overwhelming force of Satoru, who often swept into your life like a whirlwind, leaving you breathless and off-kilter. Satoru’s presence was impossible to ignore, a vibrant, chaotic energy that demanded attention.

But here, with Nanami, everything was different. His calmness soothed the edges of your anxiety, his steady demeanor a balm to the storm that often raged within you. There was a reliability to him, a sense of safety that you hadn’t realized you craved until this very moment.

You found yourself drawn to him in ways you hadn’t anticipated. It wasn’t just the contrast to Satoru’s intensity, though that was part of it. There was something about Nanami’s quiet strength, his thoughtful nature, that spoke to a deeper part of you.

As you danced, the rest of the world seemed to fall away, leaving just the two of you in a cocoon of shared understanding and unspoken connection. It was unexpected, this pull you felt toward him, yet it was undeniable.

Your graceful dance continued and little by little, you allowed yourself to get lost in the rhythm, in the soft cadence of his voice, in the comforting warmth of his presence. The worries that had plagued you moments before melted away, replaced by a sense of peace that was rare and precious.

In that fleeting moment, it felt as though time had slowed, and all that mattered was the steady beat of your hearts moving in sync, the unspoken promise of something more that lingered in the air between you.

As the dance came to an end, he held you a moment longer than necessary, his hand lingering on yours. His eyes, warm and sincere, held yours, and you felt a rush of something you hadn’t felt in years—something like hope, like the promise of something good. When he finally released you, he bowed again, his voice low and sincere.

"Thank you, Your Grace," he said softly. "It was truly a pleasure."

The words were simple, but the sincerity in them made your heart swell. You offered him a genuine smile, the first you had felt all night. "The pleasure was mine, Count Nanami."

As he stepped back into the crowd, you found yourself watching him go, your heart still racing from the unexpected connection. There was a warmth in your chest, a sense of peace that you hadn’t felt since you’d arrived at the estate. By the end of the night, you couldn’t deny it—you had fallen for him, the quiet, steady count who had treated you with such care.

But then, as you turned your gaze away from where Nanami had disappeared into the crowd, your eyes were drawn to a figure standing in the shadows at the edge of the ballroom. Satoru. His dark glasses glinted in the low light, but you could feel the intensity of his gaze, piercing through the distance between you. His expression was unreadable, his lips curved into a faint smile that sent a chill down your spine. 

You knew that he had seen everything—the way you had smiled at Nanami, the way your guard had dropped in his presence. Satoru’s eyes bore into you, and the warmth that had filled you moments before was replaced by a cold dread. 

No matter how much comfort you found in Nanami’s gaze, you couldn’t escape the shadow that Satoru cast over your life. And as the night drew to a close, you realized with a sinking heart that the feelings you had developed tonight would not go unnoticed or unchallenged.

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IT WAS OBVIOUS, THAT YOU WERE SMITTEN. In the weeks following the ball, the once overwhelming silence of the estate became bearable, softened by the anticipation of receiving each new letter from Count Nanami Kento.

The grand halls, with their cold marble floors and towering ceilings, no longer felt as lonely when you held his carefully penned words in your hands. His letters arrived with a sense of regularity, as if he knew precisely when you needed them most, each one a lifeline connecting you to something warmer, more genuine.

As you unfolded the delicate parchment, the world outside your window seemed to fade away. His handwriting, neat and precise, reflected the man himself—thoughtful, deliberate, with each word chosen with care.

His letters were not just a form of polite correspondence; they were conversations, deep and meaningful, where his interest in your life and well-being shone through. He asked about the small details, the little things that most overlooked, making you feel seen in a way you had not experienced before.

Nanami’s words were a balm to your troubled heart, each sentence carrying a sense of calm and reassurance that eased the tension that often gripped you in the estate’s oppressive atmosphere.

His kindness wasn’t ostentatious or overwhelming, but quiet and steady, like a gentle stream that slowly erodes the hardest stone. Through his letters, he offered you a refuge, a place where you could express your thoughts and feelings without fear of judgment or dismissal.

As the weeks passed, you found yourself eagerly awaiting each new letter, cherishing the moments when you could escape into the world he created with his words. His thoughts and feelings were laid bare, revealing a depth of emotion and understanding that resonated with you on a level you hadn’t expected. In a place where everything felt rigid and predetermined, his letters brought warmth and a sense of possibility, reminding you that there was more to life than the cold formality that surrounded you.

In his words, you felt understood and valued in a way that was rare and precious. The letters became a bridge between your two worlds, drawing you closer to him with each exchange. What had started as a simple correspondence had grown into something more, something that brought light into the darkest corners of your life.

And as you carefully folded each letter and tucked it away, you couldn’t help but feel that this connection with Nanami was something special, something that had the power to change everything.

However, not everyone was pleased with this growing connection. One evening, as you sat in the dimly lit parlor, absorbed in the latest letter from Nanami, the quiet solitude was suddenly disrupted by the sound of footsteps.

You looked up to see Satoru standing in the doorway, his presence filling the room with a tension that hadn’t been there moments before. His usual carefree demeanor was nowhere to be found; instead, his expression was stern, his blue eyes darkened with something you couldn’t quite place.

Satoru had been quieter than usual lately, his playful banter and easy smiles replaced by an uncharacteristic stillness. The change in his demeanor was subtle at first, but now, as he stood before you, the weight of it was undeniable.

His normally relaxed posture was rigid, his shoulders squared as if he were bracing himself for a confrontation. The way his eyes narrowed as they flicked to the letter in your hands sent a chill down your spine, making your stomach tighten with unease.

He didn’t say anything at first, but the silence between you was heavy, charged with unspoken words. You could feel his gaze, intense and searching, as if he were trying to unravel the connection you had been so carefully building with Nanami through your letters. The air in the room seemed to thicken, the warmth of Nanami’s words in your mind now clashing with the coldness radiating from Satoru.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low and controlled, but there was an edge to it that made your heart skip a beat. “You’ve been spending a lot of time writing letters.” he remarked, his tone betraying the undercurrent of disapproval he was trying to mask. The implication was clear, though he didn’t directly mention Nanami’s name. 

You felt a surge of defensiveness rise within you, but it was tempered by the confusion and hurt that came with seeing Satoru like this. The man who had always been a whirlwind of energy and confidence now stood before you, guarded and almost vulnerable in his own way. The tension between the two of you crackled in the air, a silent battle of wills as you both struggled with what was left unsaid.

Satoru’s gaze bore into yours, and for a moment, it felt as if the world had shrunk to just the two of you in that room, locked in a standoff where neither wanted to be the first to back down. The letter in your hands, once a source of comfort, now felt like a weight, a reminder of the widening chasm between you and the man who had always been a constant in your life.

“And I have heard from whispers, dearest cousin. You’ve been spending a lot of time with count Nanami.” Satoru remarked, his voice edged with an irritation that was difficult to ignore. “I see he’s become quite the confidant.”

You looked up from the letter, surprised by the sudden shift in his tone. “He’s been kind to me, Satoru. He’s welcomed me back into the ton with kindness.” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “We’ve exchanged letters, but it’s just a way to stay connected, to find some comfort in this unfamiliar world.”

Satoru’s smile was thin and cold. “You’re aware, I’m sure, that count Nanami’s intentions aren’t as noble as they seem. He’s a man of ambition, just as any man is and you’re merely a means for him to elevate his own status. He’s using you, and yet you seem to take his words to heart.”

The accusation stung, and you felt a surge of defensiveness rise within you. “That’s not fair, Satoru. Count Nanami has always been genuine with me. He’s been nothing but respectful and kind. I don’t believe he’s using me for his own gain.”

Satoru’s expression hardened, his gaze growing colder. “You’re naïve if you think he has no ulterior motives. He may seem kind now, but he’s a count—an ambitious one at that. He sees an opportunity in you, and it’s only a matter of time before he tries to exploit it.”

“I don’t think you understand him at all.” you said, your voice rising with frustration. “Nanami is not like that. He cares about me, and I care about him. Why can’t you accept that?”

Satoru’s eyes flashed with anger, the dark glasses doing little to mask his irritation. “Careful, cousin. It’s one thing to indulge in a fleeting fancy, but it’s another to be so blinded by it that you risk your own position and safety. I’m only trying to protect you.”

“Protect me from what?” you demanded, rising from your seat. “From finding someone who treats me with respect and kindness? Nanami is not a threat—he’s a friend, someone who has shown me a different side of life.”

Satoru stepped closer, his demeanor imposing. “A friend who will inevitably use you to further his own ambitions. I’ve seen this game before, and it’s not one you want to be a part of. If you can’t see that, then I’ll have to make you understand.”

The tension in the room was palpable, and you could feel the walls closing in as Satoru’s anger boiled over. His words were like daggers, each one aimed at driving a wedge between you and Nanami. But despite the fear and the rising sense of dread, you stood firm.

“I won’t let you dictate who I can and cannot befriend,” you said, your voice trembling but resolute. “Nanami is more than his title, and if you can’t see that, then perhaps it’s you who doesn’t understand what’s truly important.”

Satoru’s face darkened, and for a moment, the room was filled with a tense silence. The air was heavy with unspoken words, with the weight of conflicting loyalties and emotions. Finally, he turned on his heel, his frustration evident in his stride.

“Do as you wish,  cousin.” he said coldly. “But remember, I warned you. And if you find yourself disappointed, don’t come seeking my sympathy.”

With that, he left the room, the door slamming shut behind him. You stood there, heart racing, the echoes of his harsh words still ringing in your ears. The letter from Nanami lay on the table, a reminder of the solace and understanding you had found in him. Despite Satoru’s anger and warnings, you knew that you couldn’t turn away from the connection you had begun to cherish.

The world outside the estate might be filled with ambition and deceit, but in Nanami’s letters, you had found a glimpse of something real—something worth holding onto, no matter the cost.

A few weeks later, as the seasons shifted and the public gardens came alive with the colors of spring, you found yourself meeting Nanami Kento in a secluded corner of the park. The air was crisp, filled with the scent of blooming flowers and the gentle hum of bees. The vibrant landscape provided a stark contrast to the somber confines of the estate, and as you walked along the winding paths, your heart felt lighter, freed from the constraints of your daily life.

Nanami awaited you beneath a canopy of flowering trees, their petals drifting down like confetti around him. His eyes lit up with warmth as he saw you approach, and for a moment, the world seemed to narrow to just the two of you. He offered you a soft smile, his gaze filled with a tenderness that made your heart flutter.

“Your grace,” he said, taking your hand in his as you reached him. His touch was gentle, and he guided you to a nearby bench, where you both sat, the blooming flowers forming a natural backdrop to your intimate conversation.

“It’s so beautiful here,” you remarked, looking around at the garden’s vibrant colors.

“It is, my lady.” Nanami agreed, but his attention was solely on you. He reached for your other hand, holding both of them on his own. “But not as beautiful as you.”

The sincerity in his voice made your cheeks flush, and you glanced down, unable to hide the smile that curved your lips. “You always know how to make me feel special.”

Nanami took a deep breath, his gaze locking onto yours with a seriousness that made your heart race. “There’s something I need to tell you, my lady. I hope I may be so prude as to ask you for your kindness.” 

You smiled at him tenderly. “I give you leave, my lord. You need not ask my permission.”

“I….I must be honest with you, my lady.” he began, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “From the moment we first danced together, I knew that you were someone extraordinary. Over the weeks, as we’ve exchanged letters and shared our thoughts, my feelings have only deepened.”

He paused, his fingers tightening around yours. “I am in love with you, more than I’ve ever thought possible. And I intend to marry you, if you’ll have me.”

The words hung in the air, their weight both exhilarating and overwhelming. You stared at him, the truth of his confession sinking in. The garden, the flowers, the world seemed to fall away as you looked into his eyes, seeing the depth of his affection reflected back at you.

“Yes, my lord.” you said breathlessly, your voice filled with emotion. “Yes, I will marry you. I’ve been waiting for someone who sees me for who I am, and who makes me feel truly alive. I can’t imagine my life without you.”

Nanami’s eyes softened, and a relieved, joyful smile spread across his face. He pulled you gently into his arms, holding you close as he whispered, “You’ve made me the happiest man in the world.”

You nestled against him, feeling the warmth of his embrace and the promise of a future together. The garden around you seemed to celebrate with you, the flowers blooming even more brightly, the air filled with a sweet, intoxicating scent. For the first time since your return to the estate, you felt a sense of genuine happiness and hope.

As you looked up at Nanami, the man who had shown you a different side of the world, you knew that this was the beginning of a new chapter—one filled with love, joy, and the promise of a future where you could finally be yourself.

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YOU HAD NEVER BEEN HAPPIER. The news of your engagement to Nanami Kento spread like wildfire, and by the time of the next grand ball, it was the talk of every guest in the room. The ballroom, usually filled with the hum of polite conversation and the clinking of glasses, was now charged with an air of curiosity and excitement.

Everywhere you looked, people were whispering behind gloved hands, their eyes alight with speculation about the upcoming union between the Duchess and the influential Count. The event, ostensibly a celebration of the merging of two prominent families, felt more like a stage for the spectacle of your new life—a life that had changed so swiftly, it sometimes felt as if you were watching it unfold from a distance.

As you moved through the room, graciously accepting congratulations and well-wishes, you couldn’t help but notice the eyes that followed your every move. Some gazes were filled with admiration, others with envy or curiosity, but all of them were fixated on you, the woman at the center of this momentous occasion.

The weight of their expectations settled on your shoulders, making the air feel heavier, the music louder, the lights brighter. Despite the celebratory atmosphere, a part of you felt detached, as if this wasn’t your life at all, but a role you were playing in a story written by someone else.

Amidst the sea of unfamiliar faces and forced smiles, your eyes were drawn to one figure that stood out from the rest. Satoru. He was present at the ball, his imposing figure a stark contrast to the lively crowd around him.

He cut an imposing figure in his formal attire, his white hair catching the light as he moved with the grace of someone who had long been accustomed to being the center of attention.

Yet, tonight, there was a distance about him, a coldness that had not been there before. He was surrounded by admirers and well-wishers, as always, but even in the midst of the crowd, he remained aloof, his eyes scanning the room as if searching for something—or someone—he could not find.

Your heart ached as you watched him, the memory of your last confrontation still fresh in your mind. The distance between you had grown wider in the weeks since then, an unspoken tension hanging between you like a storm cloud that refused to break.

You longed to mend things, to reach out and bridge the chasm that had formed between you and your cousin, but every time you caught his eye, he looked away, his expression unreadable.

The ball continued around you, the music swelling, the dancers twirling, but your thoughts were with Satoru. The joy that should have accompanied your engagement was tainted by the unresolved tension between you, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that something precious was slipping through your fingers. Nanami’s presence beside you was steady, his hand warm on yours, but it was Satoru’s absence—his emotional distance—that gnawed at your heart.

As the night wore on, you found yourself searching for moments when you could catch Satoru’s gaze, hoping to see some sign that he was still the cousin you had grown up with, the one who had always been by your side.

But each time, he remained distant, his walls firmly in place. The chasm between you seemed insurmountable, and as the ball continued, the realization that you might never bridge that gap settled heavily within you.

Yet, despite the ache in your chest, you knew that this night was a turning point, a moment that would define the course of your future. The ball was not just a celebration of your engagement; it was the beginning of a new chapter in your life.

But as you danced with Nanami, his presence comforting and reassuring, your thoughts kept drifting back to Satoru, the one person who should have been standing by your side, sharing in your happiness. Instead, he stood apart, a distant figure on the fringes of your new life, and the pain of that realization was almost more than you could bear.

With a deep breath and a determination to confront the situation, you made your way across the ballroom toward Satoru. The crowd parted slightly, and his gaze met yours as you approached, his dark glasses hiding his true emotions but his posture unmistakably stiff.

“Satoru, dearest cousin.” you began, your voice steady despite the fluttering in your chest. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you. I’m sorry for how things went the last time we spoke. I didn’t mean to defy you or hurt you.”

He regarded you for a moment, and then his expression softened slightly, though he remained guarded. “I’m sorry too, my lovely cousin.” he said, his voice low and sincere. “I let my frustrations get the better of me. It wasn’t fair to you. I only wanted what I thought was best.”

Before you could respond, Nanami approached, his presence a calming contrast to the tension between you and Satoru. He offered a warm smile to both of you and extended a hand in greeting. Nanami then shifts his face, looking towards your own cousin.

“Is everything alright?” Nanami asked, his tone gentle and concerned.

Satoru glanced at Nanami, then back at you, and after a brief pause, he nodded. “Yes, everything is fine, my lord. I was just about to make a toast in honor of the engagement.”

He signaled to the servants, who quickly moved to bring in bottles of wine and glasses. The murmur of the crowd grew as they sensed something significant was about to happen.

With a gracious nod, Satoru raised his glass, and the room fell into expectant silence. His gaze shifted between you and Nanami, and though he spoke with his usual composure, there was a sincerity in his tone that was hard to ignore.

“Ladies and gentlemen, my gracious lords and ladies.” Satoru began, his voice carrying through the ballroom. “Tonight, we celebrate not only the union of two distinguished families but also the beginning of a new chapter in the lives of these two wonderful people. To my cousin, the duchess, and to my lord count Nanami Kento, I offer my heartfelt congratulations.”

He turned to you and Nanami, his smile warm but tinged with an underlying complexity. “May your life together be filled with happiness and prosperity. May you find joy and support in one another through all the challenges and triumphs that lie ahead.”

The room erupted in applause, a cascade of sound that seemed to envelop you from all sides. The clinking of glasses followed, a symphony of celebration that filled the grand hall, yet in the midst of it all, your heart was racing with a blend of emotions you could barely contain.

Relief washed over you like a cool breeze, cutting through the tension that had been knotted in your chest for what felt like an eternity. The applause wasn’t just for the announcement of your engagement—it was for the moment of reconciliation that had just played out before everyone’s eyes.

Satoru’s gesture, though unexpected, had sent a ripple through the gathered guests. His choice to stand and raise his glass in a toast, his expression carefully composed but unmistakably sincere, was more than just a public acknowledgment of your engagement.

It was a sign—a signal that he was willing to accept your choice, even if it pained him to do so. For so long, the distance between you had been a source of quiet anguish, an unspoken rift that neither of you had known how to bridge. But in that moment, with everyone watching, Satoru had taken the first step toward closing that gap, and the weight of that gesture settled over you with a mix of gratitude and sadness.

You felt Nanami’s hand tighten around yours, the warmth of his touch grounding you amidst the swirl of emotions. When you looked up at him, his expression was calm, yet there was a depth in his eyes that spoke of an unspoken understanding.

He didn’t need to ask what you were feeling; he knew. He had always known. Nanami’s quiet strength, the steadiness that had drawn you to him in the first place, was your anchor in this moment. His support was unwavering, his presence a silent promise that he would stand by you through whatever came next.

The applause continued, but the world around you seemed to blur, the faces and voices fading into the background as you focused on the two men who meant the most to you—one by your side, offering you a future, and the other across the room, finally offering you his acceptance. There was a bittersweet quality to the moment, a recognition that while you were stepping into a new life with Nanami, something else was being left behind.

As you smiled and nodded in response to the well-wishes of the guests, the gratitude you felt wasn’t just for the applause or the approval of those around you. It was for the unexpected turn of events that had allowed a measure of peace to be restored between you and Satoru, even if things would never be quite the same as they once were.

The mix of relief and gratitude in your heart was tinged with a quiet resolve—to honor the connections that had brought you to this point and to move forward with grace, knowing that you were not alone in this journey.

In that moment, with Nanami’s hand in yours and Satoru’s gaze finally softened by acceptance, you allowed yourself to breathe, to feel the weight of the past lift just enough to let you take the next step forward. The path ahead was still uncertain, but with Nanami by your side and the lingering warmth of Satoru’s gesture in your heart, you felt ready to face whatever lay ahead.

“Thank you, Satoru." you said softly, raising your own glass in acknowledgment. “Your words mean a great deal to us.”

Satoru inclined his head slightly, acknowledging your gratitude, and then turned to mingle with other guests, leaving you and Nanami to share a moment of quiet reflection.

The evening continued with renewed energy, and as you danced with Nanami, you felt a sense of peace, knowing that despite the challenges, you were surrounded by people who cared for you and were willing to bridge the gaps that had formed.

As the night continued, the ball's festivities seemed to intensify, with guests dancing and chatting in high spirits. But amidst the celebration, you noticed that Nanami appeared increasingly pale and uncomfortable. His hand, which had been warm and reassuring in yours, grew cold, and he occasionally grimaced, as if battling an unseen pain.

Concerned, you guided him to a quieter corner of the ballroom, away from the crowd. “Kento, my love.....are you alright?” you asked, your voice filled with worry.

He tried to smile, but the effort was clearly painful. “It’s nothing, my darling.” he said, though his voice was strained. “I’ve just been feeling a bit unwell lately. It’s probably nothing.”

You helped him to a nearby chair, your hands trembling as you guided him down. But as soon as he sat, you noticed something terribly wrong. His face contorted with discomfort, his brows knitting together as a pained gasp escaped his lips.

His breathing grew shallow and labored, each breath a struggle that sent a jolt of fear through you. His hand moved to clutch his stomach, his fingers digging into the fabric of his coat as if trying to ward off an invisible agony. His skin glistened with sweat, and his once calm and steady demeanor was replaced by something raw and unsettling.

Before you could even react, his body suddenly slumped, going limp in the chair. The color drained from his face, his eyes fluttering shut as if the strength had been completely sapped from him. Panic surged through you like a bolt of lightning, your heart racing as you dropped to your knees beside him. “Kento!” you cried, your voice thick with fear, hands shaking as you desperately tried to rouse him. But he didn’t respond—his eyes remained closed, his body frighteningly still.

Frantically, you called out for help, your voice breaking as terror gripped you. The noise of the ballroom, once lively with chatter and laughter, fell into a stunned silence. The sudden shift in the atmosphere was palpable, as if the entire room had collectively held its breath, waiting to see what would happen next.

Satoru was among the first to arrive, his tall figure cutting through the crowd with an urgency that matched your own. His usual easygoing demeanor was nowhere to be seen; instead, his expression shifted from confusion to alarm as he took in the scene before him. His gaze darted between you and Nanami, the gravity of the situation sinking in as he knelt beside you, his own hands hovering over Nanami’s still form, unsure of what to do.

A doctor, who had been attending the event, quickly rushed over, pushing through the gathering crowd with a determined expression. You watched in desperate anticipation as the doctor knelt on Nanami’s other side, his fingers moving quickly to check for a pulse, to feel for any sign of life. His face grew increasingly grave as the seconds ticked by, his lips pressing into a thin line.

The minutes dragged on, each one feeling like an eternity as the doctor worked, his movements precise yet tinged with a growing sense of urgency. The room’s tension mirrored the heartache building within you, a crushing weight that threatened to overwhelm you. Every second that passed without a sign of improvement, every quiet murmur from the doctor that you couldn’t quite hear, only deepened the pit of dread in your stomach.

The once festive atmosphere of the ball had been completely shattered, replaced by a chilling silence that seemed to echo your worst fears. The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the cold, terrifying reality that the man you loved was slipping away, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

Finally, the doctor straightened, his expression sorrowful. “I’m afraid there’s nothing more I can do, your grace.” he said quietly. “Count Nanami is dead.”

The words struck you like a physical blow, leaving you momentarily paralyzed as their meaning sank in. It was as if the ground beneath your feet had been pulled out from under you, and you were left to freefall into a void of disbelief and despair.

You stared at Nanami’s lifeless form, his face pale and still, the strong and steady man you had known reduced to this fragile, unresponsive shell. It didn’t seem real—couldn’t be real. The vibrant world around you blurred, the colors bleeding into one another as your vision wavered. The music that had once filled the ballroom, the laughter that had echoed off the walls, now seemed like a distant, haunting memory from another life.

The sounds around you dulled, as if you were underwater, the cacophony of voices and gasps of disbelief fading into a muffled, indistinct hum. The air felt thick, suffocating, as if it were pressing down on your chest, making it difficult to breathe.

The reality of the situation was too much to comprehend, too overwhelming to process. Nanami, who had been so full of life just moments ago, was now gone. The finality of it was like a weight crushing your heart, and you felt as if you were being dragged into a darkness from which there was no escape.

Satoru placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, a gesture meant to offer solace, but it only deepened the emptiness that had settled in your chest. His touch, usually so warm and reassuring, felt hollow and distant, as if even he couldn’t bridge the chasm that had opened up between the life you had known and the unbearable reality you now faced.

You didn’t look up at him, couldn’t bear to see the reflection of your own grief in his eyes. Instead, you remained fixated on Nanami, your mind desperately trying to reject the truth, to find some way to undo what had just happened.

The guests, who had been caught up in the joy and excitement of the evening, were now stunned into silence. Their expressions of shock and somber concern mirrored the confusion and heartache you felt. The whispers began to spread through the room, a low murmur that grew in intensity as people tried to make sense of the tragedy that had unfolded before them.

The once celebratory atmosphere had been shattered, replaced by a palpable sense of unease and sorrow. The collective joy that had filled the ballroom had evaporated, leaving behind only the cold, stark reality of loss.

As you stood there, your mind spinning and your heart breaking, the world around you continued to move forward, indifferent to the pain you were experiencing. The echoes of the music and laughter that had once filled the room now seemed like cruel reminders of a happiness that had been irrevocably taken from you.

The life you had imagined with Nanami Kento, the future you had so carefully envisioned, was gone in an instant, leaving you adrift in a sea of grief and uncertainty. Nothing was left behind.

You clutched Nanami’s hand, tears streaming down your face. “No, cousin....I....I cannot....” you whispered to him. “This can’t be happening. He was just here. We were about to start our life together.”

Satoru’s voice was gentle but firm. “We need to get you out of here, you cannot stay here.” he said, guiding you away from the scene with a sense of urgency. “Come with me.”

As you were led out of the ballroom, your mind was a whirlwind of grief and disbelief. The promise of a future with Nanami had been abruptly stolen from you, leaving you with nothing but the crushing weight of loss. The vibrant night that had once held so much promise now felt like a cruel mockery, its joy eclipsed by the shadow of tragedy.

✧❁❁❁✧✿✿✿✧❁❁❁✧

YOU COULD NOT COPE WELL. Months had passed since Nanami’s tragic death, and despite the time that had elapsed, the ache in your heart remained as fresh as ever. The estate, once filled with the excitement of the engagement and the promise of a future, now seemed like a silent, mournful shell. Each day felt like an endless repetition of grief, with memories of Nanami lingering painfully in every corner.

Satoru, your cousin and now your closest family, had tried to coax you back to some semblance of normalcy. He encouraged you to attend social events, to engage with the world beyond the estate’s walls. But each time, you found yourself unable to muster the strength or the will. The world outside felt alien and unforgiving, a stark contrast to the warmth and hope you had once known with Nanami.

One evening, after yet another failed attempt to persuade you to join him for a dinner gathering, Satoru’s patience finally wore thin. His frustration, masked for so long, burst forth in an outburst that left you reeling.

“Why can’t you just move on?” he demanded, his voice sharp. “It’s been months. You can’t spend the rest of your life hiding away in this grief-stricken state.”

The words stung, and you felt a surge of anger and sadness collide within you. “You don’t understand,” you cried, tears streaming down your face. “You didn’t lose him. You don’t know what it’s like to have everything ripped away like that.”

Satoru’s expression softened, a flicker of regret in his eyes as he saw the depth of your pain. The harshness in his voice faded as he approached you, his demeanor shifting to one of concern and gentleness.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his voice now filled with an earnestness that cut through the earlier anger. “I didn’t mean to be so harsh. I’ve been trying to help, but I know I can’t truly understand your pain.”

He reached out, gently taking your hand and guiding you to a nearby armchair. His touch was soothing, a stark contrast to the emotional turmoil you were feeling. “Let me help you,” he said softly, kneeling beside you. “I know this is hard, but you don’t have to go through it alone.”

Satoru’s presence was a grounding force, his usual aloofness replaced by a sincere attempt to offer comfort. He poured a drink from a decanter on a nearby table, holding it out to you with a reassuring smile. “Here,” he said, “a little something to help calm your nerves.”

You accepted the drink, your hands trembling slightly. As you took a sip, the warmth of the liquor began to ease the tight knot of grief in your chest. Satoru settled beside you, his presence a steady anchor in the storm of your emotions.

He placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, the gesture tender and supportive. “I know it’s not the same as having Nanami here,” he said quietly, “but I’m here for you. We can get through this together, even if it takes time.”

You leaned into him, finding solace in his steady presence. The tears continued to flow, but amidst the sorrow, there was a small flicker of hope—hope that perhaps, with time and the support of those who cared for you, the heavy burden of grief might one day become a little lighter.

Satoru stayed with you, his hand resting gently on your back as you cried. In that moment, his support and understanding offered a sliver of comfort, a reminder that even in the depths of loss, there could be moments of compassion and connection.

The truth began to unravel slowly, almost imperceptibly. You had been grieving, struggling to find any semblance of normalcy, and trying to rebuild a life that seemed forever altered by Nanami’s death. Satoru, in his way, had been both a source of comfort and a persistent presence, urging you toward recovery. His support, once reassuring, began to feel increasingly intrusive, as though his concern masked something darker.

One evening, as you were going through some old letters and personal effects, a hidden compartment in one of Nanami’s personal belongings caught your attention. Inside, you found a stack of letters and documents that seemed out of place. As you sifted through them, a particular letter stood out—a letter from Nanami to you, written shortly before his death. Its contents were cryptic and filled with a sense of unease that made your heart race.

The letter spoke of suspicions of being watched, of a growing sense of danger, and a mention of a mysterious figure who had been lingering in the shadows. That evil forces were coming, investigated by the Crown. That he was a blue shadow, a dark shadow. You put the letter down, your chest tightening.

The pieces of the puzzle began to click together in your mind, and a chilling realization dawned on you. Satoru, he...he was called the Queen's Blue Ghost. That was what he does for the Crown. You bit the lower edges of your lip. You could feel your legs losing strength as you grabbed the table to balance yourself.

You shake your head, almost as though you were in denial. It can't be. Your cousin....He would not. He promised, that he would always be good to you. To everyone. He, he can't be.

Desperate for answers, you confronted Satoru, your heart pounding with a mix of fear and anger. You cornered him in his private study, your voice trembling as you demanded the truth. He raised his head and smiled at you. But quickly, that retreated the moment he saw that look on your face.

"Cousin, is something wrong? Dearest one, you are agitated. You must—"

“Satoru, please.” you said, trying to keep your composure. “I require your honesty. Please. I need to know the truth."

"Whatever about? I have always been honest with you."

"Not on everything. And you know this. I know this."

"Dearest cousin, calm down—"

"What really happened to Nanami Kento? About the others. How many? How many others did you hurt?"

Satoru’s face, usually so controlled, betrayed a flicker of something dark and unsettling. He stepped closer to you, his eyes gleaming with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. The moment you said his name, the moment it all snapped. You could feel your heart pound as he corners you, traps you, in his vicinity. You swallow the bile down your throat.

“The truth, you say?” he replied, his voice smooth but laced with a dangerous edge. “I’m afraid you might not like it, cousin. I fear I might upset you. And....that is out of the question."

You took a step back, the fear overwhelming you. “What did you do? I know you had something to do with it. Did you poison him?”

A cold smile spread across Satoru’s lips. “You’ve been more perceptive than I gave you credit for,” he said softly. “Yes, I was responsible. But it was all for you, my dear cousin.”

The words struck you like a blow. “For me? What are you talking about?”

Satoru’s gaze softened, but the malice beneath it was unmistakable. “I’ve always been in love with you. Even when we were children, I was captivated by you. Everything I did, every action I took, was driven by my desire to have you for myself. And I do not care, how many suffers for it. That lowly count, those pesky tattletales. I do not care, cousin. As long as I have you. ”

The enormity of his confession hit you with a force that left you reeling. “You killed my Kento… just to have me? Do you....do you know how derange that is? How could you? How could you do this to me?”

He stepped closer, his voice a whisper that was both chilling and intimate. “No one else could ever be right for you but me. I couldn’t bear the thought of anyone else taking you away from me. Nanami was an obstacle, and I removed him to clear the path for us.”

Horrified and desperate, you tried to flee, but Satoru’s reflexes were swift. He grabbed your arm with a strength that was both frightening and unyielding. You struggled against him, but his grip only tightened as he pulled you close. Your heart pounded, and tears streamed down your face as you realized the extent of his obsession.

“Let me go!” you cried, your voice breaking with desperation. “I can’t be with you. Not after this.”

Satoru held you tightly, his arms encircling you in a possessive embrace. “No,” he said firmly, his voice unyielding. “You belong with me. I’ve waited too long for this moment, and I won’t let anyone—least of all you—deny what’s meant to be.”

His words, though tender in their own twisted way, were laced with a darkness that left you feeling trapped and helpless. You could see the unshakable resolve in his eyes, the certainty that he was the only one who could provide the life he believed you deserved.

“I did it all for you, dearest one.” Satoru continued, his tone a mix of reverence and obsession. “Everything I did, every sacrifice, was to ensure that we could be together. You’ll see, in time, that no one else can care for you the way I do.”

It was as though for a moment, your memories echoed. That boy Satoru was, the distant and aloof boy you had looked up to, chased after — he was not there anymore. All that’s left is a monster. A monster who believed that loving you meant hurting you. Tears fell as you remember the boy he was. 

The large, sunlit gardens were a backdrop to a series of memories, each one highlighting the contrast between your vibrant, spirited nature and Satoru’s reserved, emotionless disposition. 

You were only six years old when you first encountered Satoru’s indifference. He was sitting alone in a secluded corner of the garden, surrounded by books and sketches, seemingly lost in a world of his own. His silver hair gleamed in the sunlight, but his eyes, hidden behind dark glasses even then, were as cold and distant as the surrounding shadows.

Despite his aloofness, you were determined to reach out to him. You approached him with a bright smile, holding a daisy you had picked from the garden. “Satoru,” you called out, “would you like to play with me?”

He glanced up briefly, his expression unreadable. “I’m busy,” he replied curtly, his voice lacking warmth.

Undeterred, you sat down next to him, placing the daisy on his sketchpad. “But it’s such a nice day! Don’t you want to come outside and enjoy it?”

He stared at the daisy, then at you, a flicker of something—perhaps curiosity or irritation—crossing his face. “I don’t see the point in playing,” he said, turning his attention back to his sketches.

You persisted, your enthusiasm unwavering. “It’s not just about playing. It’s about having fun and being together. We can make up a story about the garden and pretend we’re explorers!”

“I don’t want to.” He whispered.

You pout. “But that’s no fun!”

As a young girl, you were determined to break through Satoru’s emotional barriers. One sunny afternoon in the grand estate’s garden, you devised a simple, yet heartfelt plan. You had spent the morning picking a variety of wildflowers, their vibrant colors brightening your small wicker basket. You were excited to surprise Satoru, who was once again immersed in his books and sketches in his usual secluded spot.

The garden was alive with the hum of bees and the soft rustling of leaves, and the sunlight filtered through the trees, casting playful shadows on the ground. You spotted Satoru sitting against a large oak tree, his focus intensely fixed on his work. With a smile, you approached him quietly, careful not to disturb his concentration.

“Satoru,” you called softly, holding up the flower crown you had made. It was a simple creation, woven from a mix of daisies, buttercups, and clover. The flowers were arranged in a delicate, colorful circle, their petals still fresh and dewy from the morning sun.

He looked up from his sketchpad, his expression as indifferent as ever, but a hint of curiosity sparkled in his eyes. “What’s that?” he asked, his tone more inquisitive than dismissive.

You knelt beside him, holding the flower crown out. “It’s a gift for you.” you said cheerfully. “I made it just for you. I thought you might like to wear it.”

Satoru’s usual aloofness seemed to falter as he took in the sight of the flower crown. There was a brief flicker of surprise in his eyes, a momentary break in his emotional armor. He looked at the crown, then back at you, clearly unsure of how to react.

Without waiting for his response, you gently placed the flower crown on his head, adjusting it carefully so that it sat comfortably. Your fingers brushed against his hair, and you beamed at him with an innocent, genuine smile.

“There!” you said, stepping back to admire your handiwork. “Now you have a crown fit for a king.”

Satoru’s initial reaction was one of shock, his mouth slightly agape as he touched the delicate flowers with hesitant fingers. The corners of his mouth twitched, and for a brief moment, you saw a rare, genuine smile break through his usually stoic expression. It was a fleeting, but unmistakable, expression of delight.

He looked up at you, his eyes softer than they had ever been. “You made this for me?” he asked, his voice betraying a hint of warmth that was seldom present.

“Yes, cousin!” you replied, your eyes sparkling with happiness. “I wanted to do something nice for you. I thought it might brighten your day.”

Satoru’s gaze lingered on you, and you could see the conflicted emotions playing across his face. The flower crown, so simple and yet so heartfelt, seemed to have touched him in a way you hadn’t anticipated. He looked away, his expression growing contemplative.

“It’s… nice.” he said quietly, a hint of genuine appreciation in his tone. “Thank you.”

You smiled, pleased with his reaction. “I’m glad you like it, cousin!” you said, reaching out to gently touch the crown. “I hope it makes you smile.”

As you walked away, you felt a sense of accomplishment. You had managed to break through Satoru’s emotional wall, if only for a moment, and the sight of him wearing the flower crown was a memory you would cherish. Little did you know that this simple act of kindness would become a significant, albeit bittersweet, part of your lives.

The contrast between the boy who had once been so distant and the man who now held you captive was stark and painful. The memories of your childhood—the times you had tried so hard to reach out to him, to bridge the gap that had always seemed to exist between you—now echoed in your mind like a cruel mockery.

Those moments, once filled with innocent hope and longing, now served as a haunting reminder of how drastically things had deteriorated. The boy who had seemed unreachable, who you had thought might one day come around, had instead grown into someone who was both terrifyingly close and dangerously unrecognizable.

As you struggled in his arms, the harsh reality of your situation became all too clear. Satoru’s love, which had once been a source of warmth and comfort, had twisted into something dark and all-consuming. The affection that had once made you feel safe was now a prison, its walls closing in around you with every passing second.

The realization that his love had warped into an obsession sent chills down your spine, and the fear that gripped your heart was unlike anything you had ever known. You had always known Satoru was different, that there was something in him that set him apart, but never had you imagined that his feelings for you could turn into something so possessive, so terrifying.

His grip on you was unrelenting, his arms a cage that you knew you could not break free from. No matter how hard you struggled, how desperately you tried to push him away, his hold only tightened. There was no trace of the gentle boy you had known in his eyes now—only the cold, determined gaze of a man who would not be denied.

As he held you close, you could feel the weight of his obsession pressing down on you, suffocating you with its intensity. The warmth that had once drawn you to him had been replaced by a chilling darkness, and the love that had once been your sanctuary had become the source of your greatest fear.

A profound sense of betrayal and loss settled over you, heavy and unyielding. The man who had once been your closest confidant, your protector, had now become the architect of your greatest sorrow.

The trust you had placed in him, the bond you had thought unbreakable, had been shattered beyond repair. The future you had dreamed of, filled with hope and happiness, was now overshadowed by the bleak reality of his possessive love.

In that moment, as you were held captive in his arms, you understood with a heartbreaking clarity that the Satoru you had known was gone, replaced by someone you could no longer recognize.

The boy who had once been distant, yet filled with potential, had become a man whose love had turned into a dark obsession, and the life you had once envisioned was now lost to the shadows of his twisted affection.

“I waited so long for this day, to have you free from the nuns, from the watchful eyes of the church, from anyone who would keep you from me." He whispered. “And I had to deal with that pest, that lowly pathetic count. All of those who wanted to steal you from me!”

The air in the room thickened as he stepped closer, his breath brushing against your skin. You knew what he wanted, what he had always wanted. It was written in the way he looked at you, the way his fingers twitched as if resisting the urge to reach out and claim you right then and there.

But you were no longer a child, no longer the naive girl who would blindly follow where he led. You were a Duchess now, with power of your own, and you would not be so easily consumed by the flames of his obsession.

Yet, as his hand finally found its way to your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze, you couldn’t help but feel the pull. The twisted, sick desire that mirrored his own, the yearning to give in to the darkness that had always lurked beneath the surface of your soul.

"You will be mine, cousin." Gojo whispered, his lips hovering above yours. "Whether you like it or not."

You were drawn to him, as you had been as a child. The way he moved, the way he spoke—it He reached for you, his hands rough yet strangely tender as they cupped your face, his grip firm and unyielding.

Before you could react, his lips crashed against yours with a force that stole your breath. You struggled, tried to push him away, but he was stronger—much stronger. Your fists pounded weakly against his chest, a futile attempt to break free from the iron hold he had on you.

Tears welled up in your eyes, spilling down your cheeks as you felt the helplessness of the situation, the weight of his obsession bearing down on you. But even as your mind screamed in protest, there was a part of you that responded to his touch, a dark, twisted part that had long been buried beneath years of repression.

His hands roamed over your body with a fervor that mirrored the storm brewing inside you, fingers tracing the curves of your form as if memorizing every inch. He pulled you closer, his embrace tightening until there was no space left between your bodies, the heat of his desire searing through your clothes, igniting a fire deep within you.

You hated yourself for the way your body betrayed you, for the way your heart raced not only with fear but with a sick anticipation. You could feel the hunger in his touch, the same hunger that had lurked within you, hidden and denied for so long. 

Gojo’s lips trailed down your neck, leaving a burning path in their wake, his breath hot against your skin. His words were a whispered promise, laced with a dark possessiveness that sent shivers down your spine.

"You can’t escape me, cousin." he murmured against your throat, his voice thick with desire. "I’ve waited too long, dreamed of this moment for too many nights. You’re mine now, and I’ll never let you go."

His hands slipped beneath the fabric of your dress, fingertips grazing the sensitive skin beneath as he explored with an urgency that left no room for doubt. You gasped, the sound caught between a sob and something else, something far more dangerous.

As his touch grew bolder, you realized with a sickening clarity that no matter how hard you fought, no matter how many tears you shed, you were losing yourself to him. The line between love and hate, between desire and fear, blurred until it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began.

Gojo pulled back just enough to look into your tear-streaked face, his eyes darkened with a twisted satisfaction. His thumb brushed away the tears that still fell, a cruel smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Don’t cry, my dearest." he whispered, his voice laced with mockery and something softer, something almost tender. "You’ll learn to love this, to love me, just as I’ve always loved you."

And as his lips claimed yours once more, the last vestiges of your resistance crumbled, swallowed whole by the darkness that he had nurtured within you, until all that was left was the Duchess who belonged to the Duke—no matter the cost.

[dreamwatch]

Turn The Page

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest

Day #30 - Prompt: Fame and Fortune | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: implied alcoholism | POV: Steve | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: mild angst with a happy ending, future fic, they’re in love your honour, Eddie’s over it

Again, another iPad entry so hopefully no typos but… who knows!

The moment Eddie gets off the stage Steve knows something is wrong.

The twenty-first had been hard, a day of press, of meet and greets, of things Steve asked Eddie to cancel. ‘It’s easier to just do it’; it’s not though. It never fucking is. The press and the fans get a Diet Eddie, and Steve ends up with an angry drunk in his bedroom. But they power through it. They always do.

 Steve goes to special shows now, wouldn’t have come to this one but it’s the twenty-seventh, and what’s more special than knowing your boyfriend is still alive?

Eddie practically throws his guitar at his tech as he rushes off stage, rushing past everyone, Steve included.

“Eddie?” he calls out.

The rest of the band get off the stage. “Eddie!” Jeff shouts from behind him. “The encore!”

But he’s gone, down the labyrinth of hallways, the crowd still cheering for more.

He doesn’t shower, doesn’t grab his shit from the dressing room, just walks out of the back of the venue to their car,  Steve running behind him. The car isn’t ready, they’re not expecting him for another thirty minutes at least, and it’s a confused mess of security and crew, frantic radio messages.

“Eddie, what the fuck is going on?” Steve asks, taking him by the elbow. He gets a tight head shake as a reply.

The car ride is silent, the smell of cooling sweat blending with the air con blowing full blast at them, and when they get to their hotel room, Eddie heads straight to the phone.

“Hi, can I get room service to the Junior Suite?”

Steve just gawps, he feels like he’s losing his fucking mind.

 “Uh… can I get… do you have pineapple? I’d really like some pineapple actually. And a bottle of champagne… whatever you think is best, oh and hold on,” he says covering the mouthpiece with his hand. “Do you want anything?” 

He sounds manic, so off, so not his usual self. Wild in a crazed way, and it’s scaring Steve. He stands in the entranceway, mouth hanging open.

“Yeah, I want to know what the fuck is going on?”

Eddie blinks.

“And a cheese burger and fries.”

He hangs up and finally peels his t-shirt off, letting it drop to the floor as he walks to the bathroom to shower. The phone keeps ringing, Jeff asking what the hell is going on, their manager, Phil, screaming at him. Eddie wanders in, towel around his waist, another wrapped around his hair. He doesn’t even stop to ask who Steve’s talking to, just gently takes the handset from his hands, places it back on the phone.

The room service arrives and Eddie leads Steve to the dining table, tells him to sit and eat, and then he takes a huge piece of pineapple with him to the bed.

The phone rings again, and this time Eddie rips the cord from the wall.

“Ed, you have got to talk to me.”

“I will. Just let me eat this first. Eat your burger.” 

As if he could.

Eddie sits on the edge of the bed half naked, eating pineapple. Steve’s watched them trash rooms before, true idiot behaviour, but this is probably the weirdest fucking thing he’s ever seen.

There’s banging on the door, Steve can hear Gareth’s voice, then Phil’s again, it’s after midnight now. Eventually they go away.

“You know,” Eddie says breaking the silence. “I don’t think I’ve enjoyed anything in the last few years as much as I enjoyed that fucking pineapple.” He frowns at the half eaten fruit platter, like he’s trying to solve a math problem. 

Steve crouches in down in front of him, his hands gripping Eddie’s knees.

“Bambi, please, what the fuck is going on? I mean, do I need to call a doctor here…? You’re scaring me.”

Eddie looks at him like he’s water on a hot day. 

“What if I said let’s run away? I’ll quit the band, we’ll buy a ranch or a farm. Get out of LA.” His eyes meet Steve’s properly for the first time since he got off stage. “What would you say?”

“I’d say give me ten minutes to pack.”

“Really?”

“Really. Where’s this coming from?”

“I died twenty years ago. And I got a second chance and I took it, you know. We’ve done amazing things. But it’s not fun anymore. It hasn’t been fun for a long time. And life’s too short for that, it’s too short for me to waste it being miserable. And I am. I’m a thing, I’m a commodity. I go where I’m told, I turn up, do my thing. I don’t remember the names of the towns I’m in, I always thought that was a joke you know? It’s not. It’s real.” He laughs, but it’s shallow, his eyes flat. “Who fucking knew?”

Steve gets off the floor and sits beside Eddie on the bed. “Are you serious?”

Eddie doesn’t answer straight away, but when he eventually looks at Steve he nods, and for the first time that day, Steve realises, he smiles. “Yeah. Yeah I’m serious.”

“I hate that you felt this way and didn’t tell me.”

Eddie takes his hand, threads his fingers through, locking them together.

“I didn’t want to worry you.”

This stupid, beautiful man. His everything. His life.

“And the band?”

Eddie shrugs. “They’ll be fine. They’ll get another guitarist no problem. People would kill to join them.”

Steve reaches for Eddie, lays his palm against his cheek, trails his thumb along the silvery thread that runs all the way to his throat, a memory woven on his face. It scares him how close they were to not having this, hits him sometimes out of nowhere. He leans in, his lips meeting Eddie��s, tastes pineapple, tastes home. He wouldn’t deny this man a single thing.

“Alright then,” says Steve says, breaking the kiss with a smile. “I guess we’re going shopping for a ranch.”

[spoiler-alert-andabunchofnumbers]

One of my favorite additions that the MDZS adaptations gave us was the little detail that, in addition to storing Emperor’s Smile in his room, Lan Wangji also stored bamboo flutes and was implied to have learned how to carve them and did so on a regular basis.

I just really like the idea that even though he didn’t know if Wei Wuxian would come back, he was preparing for it anyway. He raised Lan Sizhui and tried to train the juniors to be open-minded and unbiased, he held the weight of his whip scars and the sun brand on his chest, he filled his room with Emperor’s Smile that he might never be able to give Wei Wuxian.

I like to think Lan Wangji was learning to carve bamboo flutes even before Wei Wuxian died, since his methods of expressing himself often manifest in secret actions rather than words. Before he knew it, he found himself taking an interest in making dizi flutes and had a collection of them building up - and Lan Xichen is watching with a knowing gaze and offers to tune the flutes to help him improve (does Lan Wangji know how to play any flutes? I assume Lan Xichen knows somewhat how to play a dizi even though his Liebing is a xiao but I'm not a floutist so idk). Bonus angst if Lan Wangji ended up burning a pile of flutes every time he had a breakdown about Wei Wuxian being dead. Then he just goes around carving more.

The original novel has Wei Wuxian using the same out-of-tune bamboo flute nearly till the end, but like - Lan Wangji seeing Wei Wuxian playing badly just to (poorly) hide his identity and then Lan Wangji being so madly eager to show off his skills that he prepared just to serve Wei Wuxian at any and all times. He just whips out a bamboo shaft and a carving tool, and masterfully makes a flute in moments, and Wei Wuxian is oblivious like "Wow, nice job, thx!" and doesn't fully grasp that Lan Wangji is saying "I will make you a thousand bamboo flutes because I love you and will give you whatever you desire, that little surprise and pleasure on your face is worth all the time I waited -"

You know?

Still working way too hard on an MDZS fic BTW, like it's way over 1000 pages in Google Docs and half of it is me just transcribing the novel and the other is me repeating my feelings on everything with an OC or three. What am I doing with my life?

[t-lostinworlds]

Warm Winter & Fiery Frost | B.Barnes [Completed]

》 PAIRING: bucky barnes x ex-HYDRA assassin!female!reader

》 TROPE/GENRE: grumpy x grumpy, enemies to lovers-ish, slow burn-ish, angst, fluff-ish

》 SUMMARY: They say opposites attract. You and Bucky were so alike—He was called The Winter Soldier and you were called Frost, for fucks sake—that it's probably the reason why you hated each other. Or was it the denying of powerful feelings in fear of getting hurt? You know, like how the cliché goes. Because you know what they also say: There's a fine line between love and hate.

》 WARNINGS: canon typical violence (blood, guns, combat, etc.), canon divergence, meanness against each other (at the start & that one scene™), emotional constipation! (on both sides. they both need therapy lbr), poorly translated russian prolly, soulmate vibes (not really?), r has bucky at knifepoint quite often (& threatens to kill him), bucky's kink unlocked? (not explored lol), down bad!bucky, r has a backstory, mentions of: past traumas, grooming (no specific ages but it's implied that r was very young), manipulation, experimentation, child trafficking, torture, murder (u know hydra tings), a sweet, happy and open ending (+ if i missed anything pls let me know!)

》 TOTAL WORD COUNT: 29k+ (my longest fic yet)

A/N: i actually started this a year ago??? (according to my doc) which is crazy to me?? bc it feels like i only had this idea for months? where has the time gone. ANYWAYS. first behemoth bucky fic & first fic in a few months so pls be kind ksksks

++ also would like to say that r in this isn't the usual happy-go-lucky, sweet, emotionally capable, sunshine-y person compared to what i typically write but she has her reasons. cold & hardened but mushy on the inside. u know. like our fave supersoldier. they're honestly the same person just different fonts lmao. ANYWAYS,

++ additional note: tumblr has a limit of only 1000 paragraphs (or text block so to speak). the fic itself is 1300 paragraphs so it's waay over the limit. so i decided to cut it into two parts BUT i also posted it on AO3 if you want to read it as a whole already. hope you guys still read and enjoy it! <3

📍 BLOG NAVIGATION ✩ B. BARNES MASTERLIST ✩ MAIN MASTERLIST ✩

⊱ ─────.⋅♚ *｡･ﾟ.★. *｡･ﾟ✫*.

PART ONE | PART TWO

or READ ON AO3

✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ♛ *.

↬ thank you for reading lovely! reblog & leave a comment if you enjoyed! feedback is always appreciated! ++ consider supporting me on ko-fi if you can!

✉ NO TAGLIST: go follow @t-lostinlibrary​​​​ and turn on notifications to get updated on my works!

© t-lostinworlds, 2024 ✘ I do NOT give any permission to repost, translate, & use any of my works (writings, gifs, dividers, etc.) on any platform, with credit or otherwise. Please respect that. Thank you.

[jeankluv]

The forgotten boy - Geto Suguru | Chapter 01

Words: 3k

Summary: He made a deal with the devil, over 1,000 years ago. Just for the sake of his loved ones but the deal came with a condition. Everyone he met from now on, would forget about his existence within minutes, and will be like that for the rest of the eternity

Like that Geto Suguru has lived for the last 1000 years being forgotten but everyone he met, not being remembered by anyone and being alone.

"You remember me?"

You nodded. “Of course I do.” You smiled. “You have been coming here for a few days now. Always at the same hour and always asking for the same coffee.”

ac: _3aem

Tags: fantasy au, modern settings and historical settings, angst, fluff, eventual smut, hurt/comfort, magical themes, use of y/n, no physical appearance except for some freckles reader has.

Notes: first chapter of this new Suguru fic. A few things I have to say about this fic is that it has more text, more inner dialogues and information. Flashbacks. It’s also dual pov or more like external pov, we will be able to see what both main characters think. Also sorry if there are any mistakes or typos, English is not my first language. I hope everyone enjoys this story.

materialist | next chapter

"In any lifetime, I swear I will find you. I swear."

˖✧˖°.✶₊ ⊹ ⋆˖✧˖°.✶₊ ⊹ ⋆

Suguru got out of the bus and walked across the street. He always took the same route. And for some time now he had always come across the same faces, whose names he did not know but he did remember his faces. Unlike him, those people could meet him a million times and never remember his name or his face.

But it was the price he had to pay for the sins he had committed 1,000 years ago and would continue to pay until the end of the world.

His feet stood in front of the coffee shop that had recently opened its doors. The coffee they served was the best he had tasted in the city, and today he had decided to go there again to drink that same coffee again and feel like he belonged to that reality.

He waited in line, like a mere mortal, and when a boy of only about twenty years old arrived at the counter, he was greeted with a smile. Suguru without saying another word asked him for a coffee and retired to wait for it to be served. He sat at one of the many tables that the cafeteria had until his name came over the speakers.

"Kento"

It wasn't his real name, but with the curse besides from not aging and being forgotten by everyone. It also happened that Suguru could not say his name, nor say it, nor even write it, if he tried it would disappear as if nothing had ever been written on the paper. That is why he changed his name constantly.

"Enjoyed it"

You with big eyes and freckles crossing your face smiled at him, Suguru smiled back and took the coffee from you.

He sat back down at the table he was before and looked out the window. It was April, a month that brought back distant, very distant memories of his childhood. Where the snow had already disappeared from the roads of the village where he lived and the flowers were beginning to bloom, ushering in spring and the beginning of his countless afternoons of fun with his best friend. But those were just memories now, nothing more than that. Memories that only he remembered and that those who appeared in them had long since left.

The world continued to rotate, change and evolve, while he continued to hope that one day he would once again be the boy who went to the banks of the river to hunt tadpoles.

He finished the coffee and left the tip on the table and then left that cafeteria. And he began to walk, aimlessly and without any rush, since what mattered least to him was time, because he had plenty of that.

He had returned to what had once been his home village and had now become an urban metropolis, just a few years ago. After being cursed, Suguru decided to leave his beloved home behind, nothing and no one needed him there anymore and the only thing he could bring was bad omens. And that's why he traveled the world, using different names always being forgotten on the same day. He had spent the last hundred years in the UK, but he had decided to return to Japan after so long and see how it was.

His blood ran cold when he got off that plane and began to walk the streets that once seemed familiar to him. Everything was different, everything except a hill where he used to go with...

Suguru shook his head and turned to look in the direction of the hill, which remained the same. As if nothing had changed. People who were going for a walk or run, walked by there, and with his hands in his pockets, he went up and up. He remembered the hill being much bigger, but that was probably because everything seemed so much bigger to him as a child. He sat on the bench there and simply watched the horizon as the hours began to pass.

Something that the curse brought is that he did not feel tired, hungry, or sleepy. The first time he noticed it, he stopped eating for too long, a time where no human being could continue living. It was then that he understood that at that very moment he made the deal, he had stopped being like the rest of humans.

The sun had set hours ago and those who were walking or running on the hill had long since left. He got up from the bench and began to walk with a specific direction, this time. He entered the luxurious building and clicked on the floor where he was going. When he reached it he walked down the hallway, dragging his feet until he reached the door. He entered the code he borrowed months ago (as he liked to say) from that “friend” of his and entered on that apartment.

He knew the apartment would be empty, he knew the owner's schedule well. He considered him a friend, if that was even possible. But Suguru didn't care, or at least that's what he told himself.

Shortly after arriving in Japan he had met a man named Nanami Kento, he was a businessman and they had met in a cafeteria, the conversations flowed normally and safely. The next day when Suguru found him there again he showed up again and had another different conversation. Perhaps under different circumstances Nanami would have also considered him his friend.

Suguru sat on the couch and closed his eyes. He knew that Nanami wouldn't be coming home for the next two weeks, so he might have a place to rest for at least two weeks. You might think that what he did was low, but he had lived for more than 1,000 years and during all that time he had had to find ways to live, like a normal person. Even if that meant lying and manipulating others, but it didn't matter because they would forget about him.

He looked up at the ceiling and felt the comfort of that apartment. It was warm there but he couldn't call it a home. When was the last time he had a place to call a home?

Probably around 450 years ago. He was living in Italy, in a remote house that was long abandoned, it was just him and the dog that welcomed him the first time. He always wondered if animals could remember him or just like anyone else they would forget about him. He didn't know but that dog would always show up in front of that abandoned house and move it's tail whenever he welcomed him.

But soon enough, the dog died and he was left alone once again. He lived in that house for another 100 years, a lot of time for many, short for him. It was then when he decided to move to America and lived there, in different places, different countries and then he moved back to Europe, to England to be exact where he witnessed the changes of the world and cruelty of the humanity.

Suguru had lived too long, he had learned different languages, known different cultures, and heard thousands and thousands of stories. But he was tired, living so much and not having anyone to share his experiences, or moments, was exhausting. And frankly, it crossed Suguru's mind more than once to end everything, he even tried it, but when that demon appeared before him the first time he tried, he warned him.

"If you end the contract we sealed, you will become a curse and for the rest of the centuries, I will make you torment the reincarnations of those you once loved."

He never tried it again.

˖✧˖°.✶₊ ⊹ ⋆˖✧˖°.✶₊ ⊹ ⋆

"I will give you anything, but please grant me that wish, let me save them."

"Anything eh?"

˖✧˖°.✶₊ ⊹ ⋆˖✧˖°.✶₊ ⊹ ⋆

Suguru opened his eyes to the sunlight that slipped through the window, announcing a new day in the world. He stretched his stiff muscles and headed to the kitchen of the apartment. He took one of the fruits that Nanami had and ate it and then went to the bathroom and took a leisurely shower. They were those small moments that made him feel completely human again.

He left the bathroom and went to the closet. He was lucky to be wearing a size similar to Nanami's. He grabbed a white shirt and a black knit vest for the top and black pants for the bottom. Walking to the couch she grabbed the long jacket and some coins from the counter. Was he an asshole for doing that? Probably, but after so much time it was easy for him.

Just like the day before and the day before, he took the same bus, greeted the driver with a smile and sat in the same seat as always. Where he contemplated the city that dawned. He got off at the same stop and took the same route to the cafeteria.He waited in line for his turn to arrive. And he began to think about his current life, monotonous, gray and rotating.

He ordered the usual thing again and sat down at the same table again, until he heard that new name that he had chosen, because his could never leave his lips.

"Kento!"

The same girl, the same smile, the same freckles. All the same.

"Here you have." You said, hanging him the coffee.

"Thank you." Suguru took his coffee and smiled back at you.

He sat back down at the same table and watched out the window for who knows how long. But what difference did it make, right? If when they became aware of his presence again they would think that he had just arrived. The cafeteria went from being crowded in the early hours of the morning to being calmer.

"Do you want more coffee?" Suguru could feel his heart beating out of his chest when he felt the voice next to him. "I have noticed your cup is empty." You with your freckles crossing your face and a smile on you shiny face, pointed at his cup. "You want more?"

Suguru looked at his, now empty cup and then back at you. "No, it's okay."

You hesitated for a moment. "But are you sure? It's in the house, so please accept it." You smiled.

Suguru handed you the cup. "Alright." He knew that once you disappeared from his sight, you would forget him and a new cup of coffee would never return.

You smiled at him and ran to the bar counter. Suguru looked outside again and mentally told himself that he would wait 5 minutes and then he would leave.

Five minutes passed and Suguru turned to look at you, who were talking to your coworker. Suguru sighed and stood up from his seat. He didn't understand why after so much time he still had a modicum of hope.

He walked to the exit and left the small cafeteria. And again the same routine as every day, walking aimlessly until his feet got tired, even a little, sitting down to observe the landscape and returning to his "friend's" "borrowed" apartment.

And like that another day went by and another one began. Same routine. Wake up, shower, eat something, take the same bus, walk, wait in the queue for his morning coffee, wait at the table.

"Here." A voice he already heard before spoke. Suguru looked up meeting the smiley face of the same girl he met yesterday, you. "I'm sorry for yesterday. I got busy with my coworker Yuji and when I was going to give you your order, you were already gone." Something inside Suguru reeled. "That's why, this one is on me."

Suguru still didn't say a word. Was his mind playing with him? It was not possible that you remembered him? It was not.

"Is everything okay?" You tilted your head looking at him with curiosity.

"You..." He swallowed, trying to moisten his dry throat. "You remember me?"

You nodded. "Of course I do." And smiled. "You have been coming here for a few days now. Always at the same hour and always asking for the same coffee."

It wasn't possible, it wasn't, you couldn't remember. No one in 1,000 years had been able to do it. How come you were capable now? No no no. Suguru's head didn't stop spinning. Too many questions had accumulated.

"You are okay?" You moved closer to him with clear concern on your face.

"I..." Suguru tried to catch his breath, he felt like he was out of breath and in any moment he was going to pass out.

"Hey!" You touched his shoulder and kneeled in front of him. "Tried to follow my breathing okay?" Suguru nodded. He followed your instructions until he could feel the air entering his lungs normally again.

"Thank you." He whispered.

"It's nothing, but you scared me." You stood back up. "Kento..."

Suguru looked at you in confusion and then remembered that was his new fake name. "Yeah, that's me... You haven't told me your name."

"Y/n." You said with a smile to him and Suguru smiled.

Your name was called by the boy that Suguru had seen behind the counter, the days he had been coming, he had pink hair and was always smiling, just like you.

"I'm coming Yuji!" You shouted and turned around to look at him once again. "My coworker is calling me. But stay here as much as you want."

"I will." He said your name once again to say goodbye.

"Bye Kento!"

Suguru waved at you and stayed in silence, was he dreaming? For the first time in 1,000 years he was feeling alive. But he was also terrified. What if this was just a coincidence and everything would vanish as soon as he left that coffee shop? No, you said you knew him from the previous days, which means the curse didn't happen when he left the other days.

His knee moved up and down, nervously, he didn't want to leave, but knowing that you remembered him it would seem strange if he stayed there for many hours. You'd think he was crazy or something.

An hour passed by and then he stood but before leaving he went searching for you. He wanted to see you, wanted to know you, he wanted to feel alive like he felt when talking to you.

He swallowed and turned to the pink-haired boy behind the bar. "Excuse me."

The boy turned and gave him a smile. "Good morning, would you like something to drink?"

Suguru for a moment felt like a bucket of cold water was being dumped on him.

"Oh Kento!" There you were, once again smiling at him and remembering him.

"Hi." He whispered only you being able to hear him.

"Y/n, you know him?" The boy wondered.

"Yeah! He comes here every single day, at the same hour and orders the same thing." You kept on looking at him. "You literally attended to him all these days!"

"Did I?" He titled his head. "I'm sorry I can't remember."

"Don't worry." Suguru smiled. "A lot of people come here, it's normal that you don't remember me."

"With that face it is hard to forget about you..." Suguru heard you whispered for yourself.

When you noticed the gaze of him looking at you, your cheeks started to grew red.

"Oh." You covered your mouth. "Did I say that out loud?" Suguru nodded, trying to hid the smile that was forming on his lips. "Sorry! That was very inappropriate! But I think it's true...You are really handsome and a face like yours is not easy to forget."

"Thank you. I think you are the first person that has ever told me that." Suguru noticed you nervously looking around, like trying to hide somewhere after what you said. "I wanted to talk with you." You looked back at him. "If you have time."

You looked around and nodded. "Yeah, there isn't a lot of people around, so it's fine." They walked to the side, so they wouldn't disturb the people. "What did you want to talk about?"

"I was wondering when do you finish your shift."

You opened her mouth, forming an O in surprise. "In..." You thought for a moment. "An hour and a half."

"Great." Suguru nodded. "Then I would like to invite you to a coffee, if that's okay with you of course."

Suguru felt nervous for the first time in ages, but he liked it. He liked it because that made him feel more human, more real.

"I..." You hesitated.

Suguru wanted to slap himself, of course you would say no and think he was a freak. "Sorry, I probably made you uncomfortable."

"No, no it's not that." You shook your head. "We can go and grab a coffee without a problem." That made Suguru smile. "But I will have to leave early, I have other things to take care of." Suguru nodded, it was okay for him.

"It's fine by me."

"Then... I will see you once my shift is over."

"Alright."

Suguru said goodbye to you and left the cafeteria, it would be too strange to stay there so he decided to walk to that hill and wait. For the first time in a long time he felt truly alive. And happy.

Notes: end of first chapter, I hope everyone enjoyed it. Sorry if there are any mistakes, also if you see a “she” or “her” please let me know, bc the fic at the beginning was written in the third person so there might be a mistake there.

Also I will try to be as historic accurate as possible when talking about Geto’s life during those 1,000 years. My notes on my phone are completely mess with names and dates, not to mess anything 😅

- comment if you want to be tagged.

🏷️: @drownedpoetess @aducksmokingquack @walkingtravesty97 @pdacex @zhenyuuu @n1vi @blendingcaramal @mimiixen @bbyxxm @paprikaquinn @my1fx

[utterlyotterlyx]

I'm utterly (😉) obsessed with your writing and if youre up for it, id like to request an azriel x reader fic, where azriel is in the middle of his fuck boy era. Reader is a new healer in the night court taking madjas place. While readers been healing people shes heard females gossip about the rumors (not really rumors since its true) regarding Azriel and how hes been around. She doesnt really think anything of it till one day shes healing him and the bond snaps. And poor Az is so freakin excited and its the best freakin day ever for him, hes stumbling over his words and flushed pink. And reader so so shocked and hesitant towards him. Maybe shes not as experienced as him cuz her main focus was her work and education. Hes trying his best to win her over and get to know her but every time theyre on a date one of his previous hook ups always interrupts their dinner, shows up at his apartment, valkaryies flirting with him, girls trying to grind on him at ritas and touching his strong arms. She finally tells him that she cant accept the bond right now and maybe when hes gotten this life style out of his system she'll reconsider. Hes obv heart broken yet somehow oblivious to how it looks from her pov. Its not until he sees her get hit on (maybe some guy tells her shes beautiful and tucks her hair behind her ear) and Azriel immediatley wants to kill him for touching her and hes just like OMG i get it now. 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️ lol. I feel like it could be angst with a happy ending obviously. ❤️

Hahaha love the lil pun ✨

I love thisssss! All round angst and happily ever after fluff 🤍

1000 times yes