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punksyeet · 8 days ago

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ᰔᩚ Confessions ᰔᩚ

Plot: Gianna (OC) has been split from her ex for two years now. He drops their daughter off from visits with him every weekend, but this one ends a bit differently.

Warning: Talks of smut & hefty flirting!

"Mommy!" my daughter calls out excitedly, hopping out of my ex Joshua's car as soon as he parks.

I crouch down and she runs straight into my arms, to which I respond with a tight hug.

"Hi baby!" I reply excitedly, before kissing her cheek. "How was your time with daddy?"

"It was so much fun!" she replies, looking up at me. "We baked cookies and watched all the Barbie movies."

I chuckle and look up at him, still responding to her. "Sounds like you guys had a blast. I'm sorry I missed it."

He responds with a soft smile on his face - the same gorgeous smile I fell in love with all those years ago.

For context, Josh and I were together for 6 years and have been seperated for 2.

We started dating at the ages of 19 and 23, so naturally, some stupid decisions were made - one of which, lead to our daughter Jalina.

As big of a mistake as it was at the time, becoming a mom has changed my life for the better.

And my love for her somehow grows more and more every day.

She has all of her dad's features: his curly dark hair, big chocolate brown eyes, perfectly round nose, full lips that turn into a gorgeous smile, and even the exact caramel-like shade of his Samoan skin.

As for why we split in the first place, it was mainly because of the distance.

As the years of our relationship rolled on, Josh was getting more and more involved with WWE, and the traveling and time spent away was no joke.

From live shows, to weekly matches, and even occasional PPVs outside of the country, we barely got to see each other.

Which of course, caused us to drift apart and make the mutual decision of parting ways.

Unfortunately, our daughter had already been 4 by that time, so the breakup not only confused her, but hit her hard.

Just to be clear, the attraction is still in full effect, at least over here.

Josh is still very much the most attractive man I've ever laid eyes on, and his subtle ways of flirting with me to this day have lead me to believe he feels the same.

Anyway, fast forward to now, Jalina is 6 years old and spends time with both of her parents separately.

Her home is here with me in Savannah, but when Josh is off from work, she goes and visits with him in Atlanta.

"It's okay mom," Jalina replies, setting her backpack down onto the floor in the doorway. "I brought home some cookies for you."

She pulls out and hands me a tupperware container filled to the brim with cookies, sprinkled with pink sugar crystals.

I smile and kiss her temple. "That's very sweet of you, baby. Thank you."

She smiles and zips her backpack up again, throwing one of the straps over her shoulder.

"LiLi why don't you head upstairs and unpack," Josh suggests, stroking her hair gently.

"Okay daddy," she replies, wrapping her arms around his waist.

I smile as they share a quick hug and kiss before she runs inside and upstairs.

The jingle of the key chains on her backpack zippers gets quieter and quieter, causing me to stand up and brush off my biker shorts.

"You hungry?" I ask, breaking the comfortable silence. "I was in the middle of making dinner when you guys arrived.”

Josh gives me a soft smile. "What kind of man would I be if I turned down your cooking?"

I smile, playfully roll my eyes, and walk back into the house, inviting him to follow me.

He does, shutting the door behind him and taking a seat on a stool at the island.

"So," he begins again, watching me as I transfer the cookies into a Ziplock bag. "How's everything been?"

I shrug, sliding the zipper across the top. "Quiet, thank God. How's work?"

He tilts his head, nodding. "Busy as usual. You been keeping up with the shows?"

"Haven't I always?" I tease, setting the cookies to the side and turning around to open the fridge and grab some ingredients for a side salad to go with dinner.

I hear him chuckle from behind me. "Aight fair enough. I appreciate your support though forreal."

On my way over to the sink to wash some vegetables, I can practically feel his gaze on my ass.

I grab a cutting board and knife, and head back over to the island counter.

"No worries," I finally reply, cutting off the ends of a cucumber. "Half the time Jalina is the one to turn on the channels to watch her daddy, so it's not like I have much of a choice."

"Gee thanks," he replies sarcastically, causing me to giggle.

Comfortable silence falls over the room again, as the faint sound of our daughter playing with her dolls upstairs echoes throughout the house.

"Can I help with anything?" he asks, as I turn back to the stove to stir the pasta.

I think for a minute. "You can set the table if you'd like."

"Cool," he replies, the sound of his footsteps getting closer.

His hand lightly grazes against my hip, as he reaches up to open the cabinet and grab three dishes.

And, as if nothing has changed, I automatically get goosebumps in reaction to the feeling of his soft fingertips against my body.

"You cold?" he asks, walking past me smirking.

This mother fucker.

"Boy shut up," I reply, taking the pot off the heat and over to the sink to strain the pasta water.

He chuckles and heads over to me once the table is all set.

"I know you missed me," he teases, hugging me from behind.

"Don't flatter yourself," I lie, shaking the strainer to get all of the excess water out. "And our daughter is just upstairs. Don't act like an idiot please."

"You're acting like she wouldn't love to have her parents back together," he mumbles, his hot breath against my ear. "And besides, you ain't pushed me away yet."

He got me there.

"Whatever," I mutter, heading back over to the stove and pouring the pasta into my homemade Alfredo sauce.

He comes up from behind me again, his big hands stroking my sides, and somehow leaving even more goosebumps behind.

"Good comeback," he mumbles, and starts kissing my neck.

I bite my lower lip gently and tilt my head back, laying it against his chest to give him more access. "Joshua..."

"Feels good, huh?" he coos sexily against my jawline. "Daddy could never forget your favorite spots."

Once the pasta and sauce are fully combined, I turn towards him and fold my arms. "Josh, we've been apart for well over 2 years. What makes you think I'd still call you daddy?"

I mean, of course I would.

But this explanation should be interesting.

He cups my face, his thumb stroking my cheek and his dreamy eyes staring deep into mine.

"I remember all those late nights," he begins, caressing my ass with his free hand. "When this ass was all mine. I loved seeing it arched in the air while I fucked you from behind. My favorite was when I'd shove my face in it to swallow that pussy whole. All you said was 'daddy please' this and 'yes daddy' that. You miss that just as much as I do, huh baby?"

With every dirty memory that leaves his dreamy lips, I feel myself getting wetter and wetter.

God, the things this man does to me.

"More than anything," I reply, my voice just above a whisper. "But I don't miss being apart from you all the time. We'd have sex just like you said, and then I wouldn't see you for a week, sometimes two. I felt so alone. So used."

His eyes sadden, as his thumb starts to stroke my cheek again. "We were so young, baby. But we're grown now. We know better and we can make it work. I'm willing to try again, if you are."

I let out a deep sigh, wrapping my arms around his neck and playing with his curls. "I don't know."

"Say yes mama," he practically begs, his thumb now grazing my bottom lip. "I've been missing you so much. I'd give anything to have your beautiful self belong to me again. For our daughter to have her mommy and daddy back together again. To come home after a long day and fall asleep with this gorgeous body in my arms again. I love you baby. Just say the words and I'll be your Jey-Daddy again."

Jey-Daddy.

A nickname I gave him the first time we ever had sex.

So many unwanted memories, but so many good ones too.

I take a deep breath before standing on my tippy toes and pressing my lips to his.

I don't know why I'm doing this instead of responding, but it feels so good.

Better than words anyway.

He automatically responds, wrapping his arms around my waist, pulling me closer, making the kiss slow and passionate.

Our lips and tongues move perfectly in sync as he lightly grips my neck.

When we finally pull away, he looks into my eyes again. "So is that a yes?"

I lick my lips and give him a soft smile. "Yeet."

He smiles back and pecks my lips then left cheek before pulling me into a hug.

I hug back, resting my head against his chest and inhaling his delicious cocoa butter scent.

"My beautiful lady," he coos, resting his chin on my head. "I love you."

"I love you too," I reply, rubbing his back. "I never stopped."

He kisses my temple and rocks us back and forth.

—————————————————————————————————

The light snores coming from Jalina and Josh fill the room as the credits to "Cinderella III: A Twist in Time" roll on the living room TV.

I press the power button on the remote and look over at the two loves of my life.

Could I be any more lucky?

I pick Jalina up and off of Josh, making sure to be extra careful so that I don't wake either of them up.

She stirs in her sleep but wraps her arms around my neck, causing me to smile softly.

I carry her upstairs and lay her in her bed, lifting the blankets onto her body and making sure to tuck her in extra comfortably.

I press a gentle kiss to her forehead before quietly leaving her bedroom, shutting the door behind me.

I head back downstairs and find Josh still asleep on the couch.

I chuckle quietly at the sound of his loud snores and kneel onto the cushion next to him.

I gently cup his face and stroke his cheek, to which he responds with his eyes fluttering open and a soft smile when he sees me. "Hi baby."

"Hi sleepyhead," I tease, running my fingers through his curls. "I brought Jalina up to bed. You guys were knocked out by the time the movie ended."

He chuckles in response and rubs his eyes while stretching.

"I didn't wanna wake you," I continue. "But I know you have to be somewhere tomorrow and the couch might not be the most comfortable."

He smiles again, and strokes my cheek. "You're an angel, baby. Thank you."

We share a quick kiss before I take his hand and lead us upstairs to bed.

Once we're all cozy under the covers, we just kinda lay there, staring into each other's eyes.

"What?" I ask shyly, blushing like a maniac.

One thing about this man: he's always gonna make me blush regardless of the 6 years we spent together.

He chuckles and removes a curl from my face. "You're so pretty, baby."

"Thank you," I reply looking down, my face hot to the touch.

He gently lifts my chin and stares deep into my eyes.

"I'm so happy you're mine again." *Kiss* "You're everything." *Kiss* "I love you so much, baby. And I will for as long as you'll let me." *One final kiss*

I kiss back each time and bite my bottom lip after the last one before speaking up. "I love you too. More than you'll ever know."

We share a smile as I wrap my arms around him.

He rubs my lower back and buries his head into my neck, giving me a ton of kisses there too.

When we finally pull away, he puckers his lips and I giggle before accepting his offer, pressing mine to his once more.

Soon enough, we drift off to sleep in each other's arms.

Lord, thank you for bringing the man of my dreams back into my life.

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pxnsneverland · 6 months ago

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Ruthless Grace | Austin Butler x OC (part 1)

plot summary: Amidst the grime and squalor of Victorian England's winding cobblestone alleys, a young woman's life hangs precariously in the balance. Violet, a poor peasant girl with long raven locks and piercing gray eyes, possesses a haunting beauty that belies the harsh realities of her existence. Tragedy struck two years prior when Violet's mother succumbed to illness, leaving her to fend for herself and her father – a cruel, selfish man consumed by vices of alcohol and gambling. On one fateful night, Violet's father drags her unwillingly to that very den of iniquity, and there she learns a horrifying truth from the club's greedy, perverted owner: to repay his mounting gambling debts, her father has sold her into sexual servitude. Violet's vehement protests fall on deaf ears, until an unlikely savior emerges from the shadows. Lord Austin Butler intervenes with a bargain of his own. This dangerous man offers to pay off Violet's father's debts in exchange for her accompaniment, and Violet is torn from the only life she has known. While Austin's demeanor remains shrouded in mystery and detachment at first, Violet gradually glimpses his softer, even playful side as time passes within the manor's walls and an unexpected connection blossoms between the unlikely pair.

pairings: austin butler x oc

word count: 3,025

warnings/notes: I decided to post another Austin fic I've been playing with for a little while. This is a set up chapter for the story and hopefully you guys enjoy it. The romance will begin soon :)

Chapter 1: Anchors and Aspirations

The icy wind bit through Violet's thin shawl as she maneuvered through the bustling market square, her gray eyes flitting from stall to stall. With the stealth of a seasoned thief, she slipped a hand into a basket, withdrawing a bruised apple before anyone noticed. At her heart, there was no love for thievery, but survival in the grim alleys of Victorian England left little room for scruples. As she tucked the stolen fruit into the folds of her dress, a shadow loomed over her. Her heart caught in her throat. She turned slowly, only to see Mr. Clarence Johnson, a local shopkeeper known for his scrupulous eye and unforgiving nature.

“Miss Everly,” he said, his tone surprisingly soft, his gaze not on the stolen apple but on her face. “You look more worn than usual. Are you unwell?”

Violet tensed. Clarence Johnson was an uncommon figure in their decrepit part of town; his presence alone suggested he was either lost or up to something far beyond her understanding.

“I am just fine, sir,” Violet replied, her voice steady despite the fluttering of her heart. “Just tending to some errands for my father.”

“Aye,” he nodded slowly, his bushy eyebrows knitting together in concern.

“But you needn’t resort to pilfering for your sustenance,” he continued, glancing at where the apple had disappeared into her dress. “There are other ways, Miss Everly, ways that do not risk your slender neck at the gallows.”

Violet stiffened, her hand instinctively clutching the fabric over the apple. The threat of the law was always a ghost that haunted her every step in these streets. “Thank you for your concern, Mr. Johnson, but I assure you, I manage as best I can.”

Clarence surveyed her with those discerning eyes that missed little. “Your father,” he began, his voice dropping to a softer timbre, “he does little to provide, am I right?”

The accusation stung because it was true, yet Violet felt a surge of defiance. “He is my father still,” she said coldly, daring him with her gaze to speak ill of the man despite his failures.

Clarence sighed digging into one of his pockets and pulling out a few coins. He handed it to Violet. “Go buy the apple, girl. It would be a shame to see you hang for a fruit.” A trace of regret flitted across his features. “Miss Everly, I—” He paused, seeming to choose his next words with care. “I find myself in need of a reliable assistant at my shop. Someone keen and observant. Your... talents could be put to better use than thievery.”

Violet's heart pounded fiercely against her ribcage at the offer. Employment from Mr. Clarence Johnson was an unexpected lifeline, a beacon in her relentless sea of struggles. Yet, mistrust curled inside her like a dormant snake. Why would a man of his standing offer her, a known petty thief, an opportunity?

"I appreciate your offer, Mr. Johnson," Violet started cautiously, her voice a low murmur as she glanced around the bustling market to ensure no eavesdroppers lurked nearby. "But why would you trust someone like me in your establishment? You know very well my... activities."

Clarence's eyes softened, hinting at a depth that Violet hadn't noticed before. “Everyone deserves a chance at redemption, Miss Everly. I’ve watched you, not just today but many times. You’re quick, smart, and despite your current... enterprise,” he said, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly, “you have morals. You steal only what you need and no more.”

He was right—Violet never took more than necessary to survive. Her actions were driven by desperation, not greed. The acknowledgment of that fact from Clarence Johnson stirred something akin to hope within her chest.

"Consider it," he urged gently as he started to turn away, leaving the coins in her palm.

Violet watched Clarence's retreating figure, the coins heavy in her hand like the sudden possibility they represented. In a world that had offered little but hard edges and cold shoulders, the warmth of an unexpected offer ignited a flicker of daring in her spirit. She could almost taste the promise of stability, a stark contrast to the bitter tang of pilfered fruit and the relentless ache of uncertainty. Still, Violet knew better than to leap without looking. Her life had taught her the sharp lessons of betrayal and disappointment too well. As she moved away from the market square, her mind raced with both the perils and prospects of Clarence Johnson's proposal. Could she truly step into the light of legitimate work without the shadows of her past pulling her back? And more pressingly, what did Clarence see in her that others didn't? Was it pity, a calculated gamble, or perhaps something more personal?

As she wandered through the alleys, her route took her instinctively towards home—a term used loosely for the cramped, dingy room she shared with her father. The door creaked ominously as she pushed it open, revealing Edward Everly slumped over a table littered with empty bottles. The stench of stale liquor and despair hung thick in the air. Violet's entrance went unnoticed by her father, his consciousness lost to the depths of another drunken stupor. She stood there a moment, her gaze hardening as she took in the sight of his decrepit form. This was the life she was born into, one suffocated by poverty and neglect, a stark reminder of what awaited her if nothing changed.

With a soft sigh, she stepped over the threshold, her boots echoing softly on the bare wooden floor. The coins still clenched in her hand felt like both a promise and a burden. She walked past her father, careful not to disturb his fitful slumber, and seated herself on the small, worn-out chair near the cold fireplace. Here in the dim light of their one-room abode, Violet allowed herself a moment to think. Mr. Clarence Johnson’s offer was tempting—an escape from this life of constant desperation. Yet doubt gnawed at her; trust was a luxury she could scarcely afford. Her thoughts were interrupted by a sudden groan from across the room. Edward Everly stirred, his eyelids fluttering open only to squint at his surroundings in befuddled drunkenness.

"Violet?" he slurred, his voice soaked with alcohol and confusion.

"Yes, Father," she replied quietly, steadying her voice to hide the tumult inside.

"What are you doing, sitting there like a lost soul? No food again?" His voice was rough, accusatory, as he tried to focus his bleary eyes on her.

Violet's hand tightened around the coins, the metal biting into her palm. She considered telling him about the job offer, about the possibility of change, but the words died on her lips. Her father's unpredictable temper and his disdain for any sign of ambition or hope outside his own distorted view discouraged any such revelations. Instead, she rose to her feet, smoothing the front of her dress with a practiced motion. "I'll get us something to eat," she said, her tone neutral. "Rest now. You need it."

Edward grunted in response, collapsing back onto the table with a weary thud. Violet turned away, feeling the weight of responsibility press down on her once more. As she stepped out into the waning light of day, the coins still in her grasp represented more than mere currency; they were a test of her courage and resolve.

The streets outside whispered with the voices of dusk—traders packing up their stalls, children playing before they were called in for supper, men heading towards the pubs for their evening respite. Violet moved through them like a shadow, unnoticed yet sharply attentive. She made her way to the tiny store at the corner of the street, its windows dimly lit and shelves sparsely stocked. Mrs. Bauble, the elderly proprietor, looked up from her knitting as Violet entered, her eyes narrowing slightly with suspicion and then softening as she recognized the young woman.

"Back again, Violet?" Mrs. Bauble asked, setting aside her knitting. Her voice was raspy yet carried a warmth that was often absent in their bleak surroundings.

"Yes, Mrs. Bauble," Violet replied, approaching the counter with the coins still tight in her grip. "A loaf of bread and whatever meat you can spare for this."

Mrs. Bauble eyed the coins and then Violet, a knowing look crossing her features. "Trouble or fortune, my dear? Those coins look heavy with one or the other."

Violet offered a small, weary smile. "Perhaps a bit of both," she confessed softly.

The old woman nodded as if she understood all too well the dual nature of sudden opportunities. She turned to gather the requested items, wrapping them carefully before handing them over to Violet. "Be cautious, child. Fortune's favor is a fickle friend," she advised, her wrinkled hand briefly squeezing Violet's.

Violet nodded, feeling the weight of the old woman's words sink into her heart. "I will, thank you, Mrs. Bauble," she murmured, taking the small parcel with a sense of gratitude mixed with trepidation. As she left the store, the cool evening air brushed against her face, whispering possibilities that both exhilarated and terrified her. The walk back home was a quiet one, filled with the sounds of her own footsteps echoing off the cobblestones and the distant laughter of children not yet called to their suppers. Violet's mind spun with thoughts of Mr. Clarence Johnson’s proposal. It was a chance to step away from the shadowy margins of survival into something resembling a normal life. But at what cost? Could she really leave behind the streets that had taught her everything about resilience and distrust just as easily?

The uncertainty churned inside her as she approached the door of her humble abode once more. Violet paused, hand on the latch, feeling the divide between her current life and the one that might await her with Clarence Johnson. She could almost hear her mother’s voice, soft and encouraging, urging her to take a chance for a better future. Yet, the haunting memories of past betrayals loomed large, making her hesitate. Resolutely, Violet pushed open the door, stepping back into the shadowed confines of the room she shared with her father. Edward Everly was now snoring loudly, lost in an alcoholic haze that seemed to provide him the only peace he knew. Violet set down the small parcel of food on the shaky table and took a moment to look at him. Despite everything, he was still her father, and a pang of compassion tempered her longstanding resentment.

Quietly she unpacked the bread and meat, setting aside a portion for herself before preparing a smaller plate for Edward when he would inevitably awaken. Her actions were mechanical, performed with little thought as her mind wrestled with larger concerns. She knew that accepting Clarence’s offer would mean more than just changing jobs; it would mean stepping into an unknown world, risking exposure and vulnerability in ways she hadn't before.

Later, as darkness enveloped the room and the flickering candle cast long shadows across the peeling walls, Violet sat with her thoughts, tracing the outline of the bread with her fingers. The sense of impending change weighed heavily on her. It wasn't just the prospect of leaving behind the familiar, suffocating squalor that gnawed at her; it was also stepping into a realm so vastly different from anything she had known. What if she was unprepared for the challenges? What if she failed?

As these doubts swirled in her mind, Edward stirred from his stupor, his movements sluggish as he adjusted to the dim light. He squinted at the plate set before him and then up at Violet, a rare flicker of confusion crossing his usually indifferent gaze.

"Did you fetch this, Violet?" he mumbled, his voice hoarse.

"Yes," she replied quietly, watching him closely.

He took a piece of meat and chewed slowly. For a moment, there was silence between them—a silence filled with unspoken words and stifled dreams.

"Why do you stay?" Edward's question came unexpectedly. His eyes, clearer now, fixed on her with an intensity that made her flinch slightly.

Violet paused, her breath catching in her throat. It was not like Edward to show interest in her choices or her life. The question hung in the air, heavy and laden with implications that Violet had long avoided. She searched for an answer that could appease both her father and her own restless heart. "I stay because this is my home," she replied quietly, her eyes not meeting his. "And because you are here."

Edward snorted, a bitter laugh escaping him as he looked around the decrepit room that barely served as a shelter. "This? This is no home, Violet. It's a prison. You're young still. You shouldn't be shackled by my failures."

His words, so starkly honest, struck Violet with unexpected force. It was rare for Edward to acknowledge his own shortcomings so openly or to express concern for her well-being. This glimpse of the man he might once have been—before grief and vice had reshaped him into the figure he now presented—left her momentarily speechless.

"You could leave, find a better life. Isn't there anyone...?" His voice trailed off, his question unfinished but clear.

Violet’s heart pounded in her chest as she considered her father's words. They echoed the very thoughts that haunted her nightly dreams—the possibility of a life beyond these walls, a chance at happiness that seemed so tantalizing yet so remote. But the thought of leaving her father in this state, as wretched as it was, tugged at her conscience. "There might be," she admitted softly, allowing herself to think of Clarence Johnson once more. His offer had been genuine, filled with promises of respect and a new beginning. Yet, the weight of her current reality shackled her ambitions.

"But I fear what leaving would mean for you," she continued, her voice barely above a whisper.

Edward scoffed, looking away from her piercing gaze. "Don't make an anchor out of me, Violet. I'm already drowning." His voice was gruff, edged with the harsh self-awareness that alcohol sometimes brought to his lips.

Violet swallowed hard, feeling the sting of tears she refused to shed. Her father’s usual indifference made his moments of clarity all the more painful for their rarity and raw honesty.

"I need to think on it," she finally said, standing up and moving towards the small window that overlooked the dim alleyway below. There, she pressed her forehead against the cool glass, trying to draw strength from the night itself. The tangled streets of London sprawled out before her—so familiar and yet suddenly brimming with the promise of escape. Her heart fluttered at the thought, a wild bird caged by years of oppression and fear.

Inside, Edward shifted uneasily in his chair, watching her silhouette framed against the weak moonlight that dribbled through the grimy window. For a moment, he seemed about to speak again, perhaps to retract his harsh truths or to further encourage her departure. But no words came; instead, he sank back into his chair with a heavy sigh that spoke volumes of his resignation to life's cruel turns.

Violet remained at the window long after her father's breathing evened out into the rhythm of sleep. Her thoughts were tumultuous waves crashing against the shore of her resolve. Clarence’s proposal was not merely an employment offer; it was an invitation to step into a world where she could perhaps wash away the stains of her past and emerge reborn. It promised safety, respectability, and above all, an identity unchained from the degradation that had colored her life. Yet, her father’s words haunted her: "Don’t make an anchor out of me." Could she really leave him here, adrift in the haze of his vices, or was it her duty to stay and prevent him from sinking deeper into despair? The weight of decision seemed insurmountable, anchoring her to this moment of indecision.

Violet pressed her cheek against the cool pane, the glass fogging slightly with each exhaled breath. Outside, the labyrinthine alleys of London whispered secrets of escape and adventure, but also murmured warnings of betrayal and hardship. Each whisper tugged at her soul, a symphony of opportunity and fear mingling in the night air. Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft noise behind her. Turning slightly, she saw Edward shifting again in his chair, his face etched with lines of discomfort and regret. For a fleeting second, she saw not the man who had failed her but rather the father who had once held dreams and aspirations beyond the confines of their dreary existence. The weight of his words echoed in her mind, a haunting reminder of their shared struggles and the unspoken bond that tied them together.

Drawing in a deep breath, Violet stepped away from the window. The cool air had not offered solace nor had it stiffened her resolve. If anything, it had only deepened her turmoil. Walking over to the flickering candle, she snuffed it out with a quick pinch, plunging the room into darkness. She navigated through the black with practiced ease, her every step whispering against the wooden floor. Reaching her modest bedding in the corner, she lay down without changing, drawing the thin blanket up to her chin. The darkness was not just a physical veil but also a metaphor for the uncertainty that clouded her future. As she lay there, her mind continued to race, replaying her earlier conversation with her father, weighing each word, each pause.

As sleep eventually claimed her in its restless embrace, Violet dreamt of vast oceans and endless horizons—a world away from the cramped confines of their decrepit home. In her dreams, the ocean was a deep blue, not the murky grey of London's foggy mornings. She stood on the deck of a ship, the wind tugging at her hair and billowing her threadbare dress like a sail. This was a freedom she had never known, unshackled from the burdens of her father's failures and the oppressive weight of their squalid existence.

Stay tuned for part 2!! Click HERE to view!

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asdfghjklmals · 1 year ago

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MEET THE GOJOS✩༶‧˚

GENRE + T/W: sfw, fluff. mentions of injury and blood. WORD COUNT: 10.8k words. TAGS: satoru gojo x fem!oc. mutual pining. the babies are still not official yet.

SYNOPSIS: satoru asks oc gojo girlfriend to visit his clan with him during the semester break. how will meeting the gojo clan go? AUTHOR'S NOTE: made up my own gojo clan lore. fuck it, we ball lol. the hardest part is coming up with names for people. also, playful cloud belongs to the zen’nin clan, but in this au it belongs to the gojo clan because i swear i thought it did. i left a present in this fic for you guys and it starts with a 'first' and ends with 'kiss'. REMINDER: if you want to imagine yourself in oc gojo girlfriend's character descriptions instead, please do!

your first semester at tokyo jujutsu high had flown by. you've been sent on your very first mission with satoru (thanks to yaga-sensei), practiced your close combat with mei mei, sharpened up your cursed technique, refined your domain expansion, and of course, spent all of your free time with satoru gojo.

you and satoru were practically inseparable since your birthday. you don't know how it ended up this way, and everyone on campus knew that you both liked each other, but neither of you wanted to admit your feelings for each other. whenever anyone would bring it up, you'd both say that you were 'just friends'.

friends. friends that slept in each other's beds, friends that would buy each other souvenirs just because they reminded them of that person, friends that would link arms and hold hands while they walked together, friends that worried about each other when they went on missions, friends that called each other at random times of the day just to hear their voice. sure, you and satoru gojo were just 'friends'.

"(y/n), when are you and gojo just finally going to date each other?" shoko asked you out of the blue. she looked up from her medical textbook and stared at you, waiting for an answer.

you looked up from your pre-calculus notes, "i think dating satoru gojo is the least of my worries, shoko. i have a b+ in pre-calculus right now."

"being (y/n) (l/n) must be soooo hard." shoko mocked you playfully, "she's pretty, she's smart, and she has the one and only satoru gojo wrapped around her fingers."

a thought came to your head as you paused, putting down your pencil, "shoko, can i ask you something?"

"sure. go for it."

you asked that question you’ve always wondered, "have you ever liked satoru or suguru? as more than just friends?"

shoko started laughing hysterically, "never. both of them are definitely not my type. they are my best friends though, and i love them. that's why i keep pushing you to date gojo. i want to see you both end up together."

you rolled your eyes, "—and why would you want that for me? satoru's insufferable."

"i can't imagine gojo with anyone but you. you two are like yin and yang, fire and ice. you're basically geto but a girl version. you and geto are the moral compass to that guy. it's no wonder gojo likes you so much. i've never seen him act like this before. and to be honest, i never thought he'd ever be faithful to a girl."

"oh, so satoru's a flirt? i knew it." you giggled at the memory of satoru's bold faced lie. "he told me the other day he doesn't flirt with anyone."

"gojo will flirt with anything that breathes even though he doesn't mean to. he's just naturally a people person." shoko stated as-a-matter-of-factly, "but since you came to the school, i've never seen him so curious over a girl before. you should've saw the way he moped around campus when you went to visit your family for the weekend."

you pointed your pencil at shoko, "he came to see me at my clan's estate that weekend too. my brother was so suspicious of him."

shoko looked over at you again, "hey—i heard that gojo asked you to visit his clan with him for the upcoming break. the gojo clan seems to be interested in you. are you going to go?"

flashback: one week ago

the weather was starting to get colder as the climax of winter was arriving. ice clung around the cobblestone pathway, while a light layer of snow laced the school grounds. you and satoru were walking hand in hand outside sharing a small pocket hand warmer, giggling about sweet nothings and enjoying the day together.

satoru stopped in his tracks, grabbing your attention. "(y/n)."

you halted and looked back at satoru, "what? do i have something in my hair?"

"nothing's in your pretty hair, princess." he chuckled at how cute you were, "what do you think about going back to visit my clan with me next week?" satoru shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. he avoided eye contact with you, afraid of possible rejection.

"me? go back with you? to meet your family?" your eyes widened in surprise. he really wanted you to meet his family?

"yeah, my grandparents want to meet you—and to see your cursed technique. plus, i hear that our clans are actually good friends or allies, whatever you want to call it."

you remembered touya telling you that the gojo clan are allies of your clan. that was another reason why your clan elders were okay with you attending tokyo jujutsu high instead of kyoto—because satoru gojo was here.

you bit your lip. would it really be okay to go back with satoru to meet his family if you weren't officially dating? would they scold him for bringing you back to the estate? the last thing you wanted was to make a bad impression.

"are you nervous or something?" satoru asked as he stepped closer to you, invading your personal space like he always did.

you looked up at him, his blue eyes softening in your gaze, "do you think it would be weird? me going to meet your family?"

"i don't see why not—" satoru shrugged, "i mean, we spend almost every day together. you're pretty much my gir—"

satoru stopped himself to correct his sentence, "we're pretty much always with each other." he cleared his throat, "plus, our grandparents supposedly know each other."

satoru started to feel hot like an iron was branding his cheeks, he wanted to change the subject quickly. he couldn't believe he almost called you his girlfriend. he was kicking himself for that one.

an evil chesire-grin spread across your face, "you were about to say girlfriend, weren't you?"

"no i wasn't!" satoru was mortified and caught red-handed. he looked away from you, but you ran in front of him and blocked his path.

you taunted him, "satoru, just say it!"

satoru sighed, knowing he would never win an argument against you, the queen of stubbornness. the 6'3" sorcerer leaned into your 5'3" frame, "do you wanna be my girlfriend, (y/n)?"

you gulped while meeting his gaze. you felt like he could see right through you. he always made you so nervous. your heart skipped a beat when you looked at his lips. that stupid satoru gojo and his pretty lips. with lips like that he hasn't even tried to kiss you yet? the closest thing to affection he ever showed you were half-assed hugs. you never took satoru for a 'where my hug at?' guy until now.

"no, i don't want to be your girlfriend, satoru." you looked away from him, lying through your teeth.

"aw, come on. don't be shy now, (y/n)." satoru teased you, waiting for an answer to his question.

you rolled your eyes and changed the subject, "i'll go back next week with you to meet your family."

satoru lifted his face out of your personal bubble and celebrated with a little victory dance, shimmy-ing around the courtyard as you shook your head in defeat. you smiled at the fact he wanted you to meet his family.

to you, it felt like you were being tested. to satoru, it felt like he had won the lottery.

end flashback

"we're leaving tomorrow actually. he said his clan elders have stuff they want to talk to him about before the new semester."

"—and they want to meet you." shoko added.

you brushed her off. "it's not even like that, shoko."

the library door slid open, "it's not like what?" suguru interrupted.

"oh my god, suguru, get this. (y/n) is going to meet the gojo clan tomorrow." shoko started to update him on the hot new gossip on campus.

suguru set down his books next to you and flipped open his notebook. he was trying not to laugh. "satoru's already got you meeting the family? and he hasn't even made it official with you yet?"

"right?" shoko asked her other bestie, instigating the situation.

"come on, make him work for it, (y/n)."

you rolled your eyes, "you two are ridiculous."

"again—you and satoru would be cute together." shoko sang.

satoru busted through the library door, he had his books tucked under his left arm, a can of coke in his left hand, and a box of kikufuku in his right. speak of the handsome devil. he gave shoko and suguru a head nod, and smiled when he made eye contact with you. he was late to the study party, as aways.

"are you ever going to be time?" you chastised satoru. he put his arm around you, hugging you with little effort as you leaned into his chest.

"god, you two should just get a room already." shoko incited, twirling her pencil between her fingers.

satoru winked at the amber-eyed sorcerer. you gave him a death stare, knowing that he was probably thinking about something childish or innapporiate.

"what's in the box, satoru?" suguru asked.

satoru's face lit up, excited about the sweet treats he brought, "i brought kikufuku!" he passed everyone a piece.

the next day

"god, i feel like i failed my exam." you complained to your classmates as you all walked out of the classroom.

satoru put his arm around your shoulder, nuzzling his face next to yours, "i'm sure you did fine, (y/n). even if you failed this test, you'd still pass the class."

"she's used to getting straight a's, satoru, not a barely passing grade like you." suguru expressed.

"i feel pretty good about my test," shoko admitted, "(y/n), don't worry. at least you're still pretty.

you all laughed and joked around together while walking back to the dorms. suguru and shoko would be staying behind during the semester break while you and satoru were going to be leaving campus.

"(y/n), are you ready to head out?" satoru asked, unable to hide his eagerness to leave.

you smiled at him, "yeah, let me grab my stuff."

you spent all of last night packing for your weekend trip to the gojo clan's estate. this morning before class, you and satoru went on a quick errand together to buy fruits and a small cake as a gift. you told satoru that it was a good gesture to present a small gift to his family if you were going to be meeting them for the first time. and just for that thought, he couldn't say no to you.

you rolled your suitcase outside of your dorm to meet satoru in the hallway. he looked over at you and gave you his million dollar smile that always made butterflies flutter in your stomach. he had a small backpack ready to go, throwing it over his shoulder, taking your suitcase from you.

"a whole suitcase for a two day weekend?" satoru poked fun at you. you were so high maintenance, it wasn't even funny.

"i had to make sure i have options."

"you already know you look beautiful in anything.” satoru mumbled quietly as you gave him a self-satisfied smirk.

you looped your arm over his as he clasped his palms together, teleporting you to a beautiful, large minka with a gorgeous stone walkway.

the gojo clan's estate

you and satoru jumped down from the air and started walking along the walkway to the entrance of the gojo clan's estate. satoru held your hand, guiding you through the gated area. there was a large koi pond to the left.

"that is a huge koi pond." you ran over to see the koi fish swimming around. there were lily pads and rocks all over the pond. different sizes and colors of koi fish started to swim towards you.

"want to feed them?" satoru asked.

you nodded your head in excitement as satoru walked to a wooden storage unit next to the pond to take out a bucket of fish feed.

"they'll eat out of your hand." he told you, scooping a large amount of fish feed into your hand. he watched you place your hand into the water as koi fish started to surround you.

"this pond has been here for almost 500 years. some of the fish in here are really old." satoru told you as he watched your bright green eyes admire the pond, he felt his heart melting at the sight. you were so beautiful and radiant in his six eyes. how was it that seeing you so happy and content with something so simple as feeding fish could set his heart on fire?

satoru ran the water hose for you so you could wash your hands. you looked up at him, "satoru, it's beautiful here."

"the clan tends to take pretty good care of the estate." satoru was pleased to hear that from you. you noticed that he was looking off in the distance behind you.

"oh—hey grams!" the white haired sorcerer waved to an older woman that was walking towards the both of you.

you immediately felt nervous, a pink flush filling your cheeks. you took a step behind satoru, feeling him squeeze your hand in reassurance. you had a feeling you were about to meet a member of the gojo clan.

"i felt your cursed energy as soon as you teleported here, boy." the older woman laughed and hugged satoru, "satoru, who is this?" the woman peered over at you.

"grams, this is (y/n) (l/n)." satoru stated proudly with a bright smile, "she's our guest this weekend."

"your grandfather didn't tell me that we were having any guests! my goodness, let's get you two settled in.” satoru's grandmother turned to you, "(y/n), it's a pleasure to meet you. i'm satoru's grandmother."

you admired the woman who just introduced herself to you. she had grey hair in a neat, low bun. she had beautiful purple eyes, just like an amethyst. you sensed her vast amount of cursed energy. you bowed your head and greeted her properly.

"hi, obaa-san. my name is (y/n) (l/n) of the (l/n) clan. satoru and i brought fruits and a cake for the family to enjoy."

satoru's grandmother laughed, "well, that's sweet of you. no need to bow to me, child. i know your grandparents very well, (y/n). and you can call me sobo or 'grams' like satoru does."

she lifted your chin to study your face, "you look just like your mother and your grandmother. kanae gave birth to very beautiful children, you and your brother, touya." (a/n: oc gojo girlfriend's grandma and mother's names are inspired by demon slayer characters)

you felt a warmth of familiarity and comfort wash over you. you blushed at her compliment. satoru smiled at the sight of you and his grandmother interacting, enjoying what he was hearing and seeing. during one of the many nights that you and satoru spent together, he told you that his grandmother raised him growing up. she was his favorite person in the world. and now you were meeting her.

"thank you so much, sobo." you decided to call her sobo instead of grams. maybe one day you'd end up calling her grams, but for now, sobo will do. (a/n: there are so many ways to address a grandmother in japanese, i just chose this one.)

"satoru, please bring (y/n)'s belongings to your room for now. i'll make sure to have the housekeepers prepare a room for her."

"she can just sleep in my room with me, grams." satoru said nonchalantly.

his grandmother smacked his arm, "over my dead body, boy!"

satoru ran off hysterically laughing, only for him to come back and hug her. he kissed her on the cheek and grabbed your suitcase to head the opposite way. you followed his grandmother.

"we're going to get you a fresh clean komon kimono. these ones are specially made for the gojo clan." sobo smiled warmly at you. in that moment, she reminded you of your own grandmother. her welcoming aura put you at ease.

she led you into the gojo clan's beautiful minka. you were in awe. it was truly a work of art. the floors were heated and made of the finest bamboo. white and blue porcelain vases, jade statues, and expensive paintings decorated the long corridor that led to different rooms. it was a beautiful combination of modern and old-fashioned style. the lighting was brilliant and illuminated every detail in the estate. you expected no less from the number one family in jujutsu society.

you saw a couple of housekeepers getting dinner tables ready. as you and sobo walked by, they turned to bow their heads at her and quickly resumed back to what they were doing. you could tell that she was highly respected in the household by the way everyone bowed to her and catered to her every request with no hesitation or resistance.

you and sobo turned the corner, entering a small room where two girls were washing and drying kimonos and haoris by hand. they bowed when you both entered the room.

"good evening, madam gojo. is there something we can help you with today?" one of the girls asked.

"akemi, would you please prepare a kimono for our guest? this is (y/n) (l/n).

"it's a pleasure to meet you!" you greeted akemi, bowing.

"miss (l/n), what color kimono would you like to wear?" akemi asked you with a friendly smile. she started to show you all the fabrics hanging on the clothing racks. "—we have kimonos and haoris in all colors and fabrics."

"akemi, get her the jade green one. she looks best in that color." satoru chimed in from the entrance of the wash room.

satoru flashed a smile at you. he had changed into a white t-shirt and black pants, sporting a new pair of sunglasses. akemi and the second girl immediately stopped what they were doing and bowed towards him.

"good evening, master gojo. we'll prepare the green kimono for miss (l/n)." akemi turned to her partner, "hitomi, make sure you get master gojo's orange haori with the dragonflies ready as well."

"will do." hitomi turned to satoru, "sorry for the wait, master gojo."

"oh my god," satoru groaned, "what did i tell you two about calling me master gojo? just call me satoru. master sounds weird."

you and sobo laughed at satoru's interaction with the two girls. sobo left to supervise the kitchen as akemi and hitomi quickly prepared the kimono and haori for you and satoru. you changed behind the screen as they took your school uniform from you. they mentioned that they would have your uniform washed, pressed, and returned to your room by the end of the day.

akemi helped wrap your chest with a white cotton wrap as you draped the jade green kimono over your shoulders. with assistance from akemi, she tied a beautiful bow with a darker green ribbon behind your back.

"wow! miss (l/n), you look beautiful!" akemi beamed, "would you like green ribbons to replace the blue one in your hair?"

"that would be nice, but i'll keep the blue ribbon with me. satoru got this for me as a gift when he got back from a mission!" (read 'souvenirs' here)

surprised, akemi asked, "are you a jujutsu sorcerer like master gojo?"

you nodded, "i am."

"—and she's a pretty strong one too." satoru added, moving the screen. akemi's jaw dropped at the sudden intrusion. she was surprised that satoru came over and moved the screen as you were in the midst of changing your clothes.

"my apologies, master gojo. i should've told you if miss (l/n) was finished changing or not."

"no worries, akemi. it's nothing i haven't seen before." he winked at her.

you glared at satoru, "akemi, please ignore him. he has not seen me naked." you wished you could launch an ice shard at him for that.

akemi giggled and patted your back before she left you and satoru alone in the wash room. you turned back to him, piercing him with your emerald green eyes, "why would you joke around like that around your housekeepers?"

satoru ignored you, "trust me, the whole household is just over the moon that i brought a girl back with me this time. they're setting up a whole banquet today because gramps told them to."

"are you going to tell them i'm not your girlfriend though?" you confronted satoru. he rolled his beautiful blue eyes at you, grabbing your hand to lead you out of the wash room. he would actually like to introduce you as his girlfriend, but he wasn't sure how you'd react. he would have to find the right time to do so.

"come on, let me show you around—you look beautiful by the way." satoru complimented you as you blushed, forgetting that you were in the middle of scolding him. he sure was a sweet talker.

satoru led you back to the main hallway that you and sobo were walking through earlier. you admired his orange haori. the complimentary color made his eyes look bluer than usual. you passed by more housekeepers while you walked down the hallway, letting go of satoru's hand as you walked next to him.

satoru frowned at your sudden action, "what? don't wanna hold my hand now?"

"it's not that... it's just—we're at your clan's estate. be a little more modest with the pda." you quietly reminded him.

satoru respected your feelings whenever you were too shy to show pda in public. it was only just recently that you two started holding hands at the school and knowing satoru gojo, he would hold your hand whenever he got the chance. he was always the first one to initiate any pda. physical touch was his love language next to gift giving. satoru would probably die if he couldn't be within arms reach of you.

he put his arm around you in a half hug as if he was saying 'alright, fine then' before he walked in front of you to continue leading the way down the corridor. he showed you the family portraits on the wall of the gojo clan throughout the years. you recognized him in one of the portraits as a child. he was holding up a peace sign, ruining the picture. how very satoru gojo coded.

"you looked like such a trouble maker." you joked with him before asking, "—where are your parents?"

satoru pointed at a couple in a different picture. his father had white hair and his mother had light brown hair. "my mom married into the family. as you can see, my dad is the one with white hair and purple eyes."

you glanced at his parents. you guessed that the white hair ran in the gojo clan. his mother had beautiful golden eyes, reminding you of touya.

"wait. oh my god—am i meeting your parents tonight?!" you started to panic. you weren't ready to meet satoru's parents.

"nah, my parents are out on business. they're in africa studying a cursed tool that can apparently disrupt our clan's technique." (a/n: jjk0 miguel's rope anyone?!)

you sighed in relief. satoru turned to face you with a mischievous smile, "speaking of cursed tools, let me show you the gojo clan's collection."

the gojo clan's basement

satoru led the way further down the corridor. he opened a door that led to a stone chamber, unlocking the door using a two finger hand motion and some cursed energy. the lock unlocked and floated forward, dropping on to the ground.

"all that for a lock?" you laughed at all the effort that was needed.

satoru turned to you and grinned, "cursed tools are expensive on the black market."

he opened the door and flipped the light switch on. you gasped at the sight. the gojo clan's collection of cursed tools and objects was vast and extremely organized.

"all the cursed objects are sorted in order of power from grade 4-1." satoru explained. "and this one is my favorite."

satoru took a red, three piece nunchaku off the wall and threw it at you. "this one is called playful cloud. i grew up with it. and it's only as strong as the person who uses it."

you caught it and twirled playful cloud around. it was heavy. some cursed tools felt disgusting to hold, but playful cloud felt fine. you gave it back to satoru and walked down the room, admiring the wall of knives and blades. as you and satoru were talking about the cursed objects, you heard a stern voice call his name.

"satoru."

the both of you turned around. an older man with grey hair, a grey beard, and piercing dark blue eyes appeared.

"gramps." satoru bowed. you followed his lead and bowed as well. it was his grandfather. you could sense the immensely strong cursed energy from him as well.

satoru introduced you to his grandfather, "gramps, this is (y/n) (l/n)." he smiled proudly.

"ah, this is genkei's granddaughter? it's a pleasure to meet you, (y/n)."

genkei was your grandfather. you were surprised at how far back your clan and the gojo clan went. satoru’s grandparents and your grandparents were on a first name basis.

"it's a pleasure to meet you as well, ojiisan. you have a beautiful home and an impressive collection of cursed objects."

satoru's grandfather smiled at you. "no need for honorifics, call me ojii, (y/n). are you hungry? we're going to start dinner soon. your grandfather told me that you enjoy sushi."

"—and gramps requested omakase today." satoru added with a grin.

"only because you're home for the weekend, satoru." ojii smiled back at his grandson, "come, (y/n). let me show you to the banquet hall."

his grandfather reached his hand out to you and you held onto it.

"oh, so you'll hold my gramps' hand but not mine?" satoru asked, folding his arm like a child throwing a tantrum.

you turned back to shoot a glare at him, your blazing green eyes telling him to ‘shut up’. he held his chest in fake despair while following behind you and his grandfather. you could see ojii laughing to himself as he guided you to the banquet hall.

dinner with the gojo clan

ojii hit a traditional gong to gather everyone's attention. there were multiple tables set up and everyone in the gojo clan was attending this dinner, even the housekeepers and cooks. no one was ever left behind.

"i'd like to announce satoru’s return. he just finished the semester at tokyo jujutsu high." ojii started to say. you watched as family members clapped and cheered for satoru. satoru really was the pride and joy of the gojo clan. you wondered what his childhood was like growing up surrounded by so many people who admired him.

"also, i'd like to introduce our guest tonight, (y/n) (l/n) of the (l/n) clan."

everyone clapped and stared curiously at you. you smiled nervously and waved to everyone. satoru couldn't help but gaze at you in adoration. after the introductions, everyone started to eat. the banquet hall was filled with light conversation and laughter. drinks were being poured and there were different types of fresh sashimi, nigiri, and sushi rolls presented on the dinner table in front of you.

satoru turned to you, "you okay? you're quiet. if we were at splendid sushi right now, you wouldn't have waited for me to eat."

"just taking everything in," you said softly as you were overwhelmed, "this is pretty extravagant for your return home."

"i told you, gramps is being extra just because i brought a girl home." satoru scoffed, "here—take some wasabi." he placed a small dollop of the green paste on your plate.

as you and satoru were eating, his grandparents were watching the both of you. they were happy that satoru finally brought someone home to visit with him that wasn't shoko or suguru. someone that could be his life partner.

sobo and ojii thought back to how they got married. they had an arranged marriage within the jujutsu society and were married when they turned 18. satoru's grandmother was part of a small family of jujutsu sorcerers. her family wanted to form an alliance with the gojo clan and offered her to the gojo clan as a deal. and that's how she met ojii.

"dear, don't you think satoru and (y/n) make a fine couple? satoru seems to really like her." sobo whispered to ojii as he took a bite of his nigiri.

"don't you dare reach out to kanao to try to set them up." ojii laughed at his wife. after 40 years of marriage, ojii could read sobo like a book. he knew what she was thinking.

kanao was your grandmother. currently, your grandparents, genkei and kanao, were the main decision-making elders of your clan. they were also a part of the faction of elders in the jujutsu society.

satoru's grandmother started to imagine a future for you two. "can you imagine how grand a gojo and (l/n) wedding would be? and how powerful their child would be if they were born with a cursed technique?"

"i wonder what technique their child would inherit. do you think it'd be a mix of limitless and an element?" his grandfather wondered, "unfortunately, i don't believe their child would inherit the six eyes or the water element since only one person can inherit that in a lifetime."

"they are just like the legend of that couple." sobo said excitedly, "what if they're the reincarnation of those ancestors? oh dear, let's see if we can arrange a marriage for them." she begged her husband.

ojii brushed off his wife's request, "our son and his wife aren't even home to discuss this with. let's just let the children be children, my love. i don't believe they do arranged marriages in this day and age anymore."

the grey haired couple watched as satoru used his chopsticks to pick up a piece of his favorite sushi to place on your plate. you picked it up and ate it, chewing in approval. you gave satoru a soft smile, cheeks full of food as he laughed at you. he brushed your hair out of your face and behind your ear as you continued to chew your sushi with delight. his grandparents were in awe at his behavior towards you. they've never seen anything like it. they never thought they'd live long enough to see the day where their beloved grandson would show any acts of affection towards another person.

later that night

"(y/n). i had the housekeepers set up the empty bedroom next to satoru’s for you. i hope that's okay."

"yes, that's great. thank you, sobo." you bowed towards satoru's grandmother.

"hey grams, isn't (y/n) great?" satoru asked his grandmother, "don't you think having a (l/n) in the gojo clan would be a good idea?"

she teased him, knowing damn well satoru liked you and wanted to know what she thought of you. "she is quite a remarkable young lady. maybe we should set her up with one of your cousins so she can marry into the clan."

"no way, grams!" satoru got defensive, "(y/n) is my—no one in our family is her type!" he huffed, arms folded.

you laughed at the interaction between satoru and his grandmother. sobo grinned and winked at you. she was on your side, and rooting for you and satoru too.

"(y/n), sweetheart. the bathrooms are across the hall from your room. the shower springs should be nice and warm by now. towels, a robe, and slippers are in there for you as well. take your time."

"thank you, again!"

you turned to faced satoru, "i'm going to get settled down for the night, satoru. i'll see you in the morning." you gave satoru a warm smile and wave before turning to leave for the showers.

he looked at you from under his sunglasses. he waved while watching you walk away. he was unable to contain his happiness. you were really here with him in the very home he grew up in... and you got the stamp of approval from his grandmother.

*****************************

you stepped into the guest room and your jaw dropped at the sight. the room had a queen-sized futon made with a bamboo board. the room was spotless and smelled like jasmine. a large floor to ceiling window with sheer white curtains faced the massive koi pond from outside. you saw that your school uniform was folded neatly and placed on the corner of your bed along with your suitcase that satoru brought into his room earlier.

you grabbed your toiletries and headed to the bathroom. you took your time in the shower as the hot water soothed your muscles. you were quite nervous meeting satoru's grandparents today that you didn't realize how tense your body was. you hoped that you made a good first impression on them for satoru's sake. you would hate to make him look bad for bringing you here.

once you finished showering and drying your hair, you changed into a long sleeved sweater and cotton shorts. you made your way back to your room to find satoru sitting in your bed tapping away on his phone. you could tell by his damp hair that he was also freshly showered too. how could one person look so handsome after a shower? and why did that handsome person have to be in your room?

"satoru, what are you doing here?!" you hissed.

satoru looked at you in disbelief, raising his eyebrows at you, "you're telling me that just because my grams said you can't sleep in my room, i can't be in here with you?"

"absolutely not." you stated, "what if she thinks we're up to no good?"

satoru got up from your bed and started walking towards you, "and what if we are?"

you summoned a wall of water in front of you. nervous of him coming any closer to you.

"jeez, what was that for?" satoru asked, scratching the back of his head in confusion.

"i want to make a good impression for your grandparents, satoru. and sneaking around at night like we do at jujutsu high isn't a good look for me." you admitted.

his family's opinion of you meant a lot to you personally, especially because you liked satoru. the more time you spent with the special grade idiot, the more your feelings for him grew. and right now, you felt like your heart couldn't like him any more than you already did.

satoru reassured you, "trust me. they love you already. they wouldn't change their minds about you even if they caught me in here." he chuckled at the thought of his grams chasing him out of your room with a broomstick.

you released the wall of water that separated you from satoru. you walked over to him with a frown, reaching your arms out for a comforting embrace. he smiled at how adorable you looked with your puffed out cheeks, pouty lips, and emerald green eyes. he brought you in for a hug.

"does that mean we have to sleep in separate rooms tonight?" you laughed in his chest, "what am i going to do without my arm pillow?" (read 'sleeping with the enemy' here)

satoru groaned reluctantly, "if grams finds me in here, she might chop off a certain body part i need later in life for reproduction."

satoru looked down at you, grateful that you were in his arms. "gramps wants me to bring you back at the next semester break. what do you think about that?"

"i'll think about it," you taunted satoru, "depends on if we're still a thing by next year."

this dreaded situationship. this relationship between you and satoru that was lacking a clear definitive answer of commitment to each other. neither of you could start that conversation, neither of you had the guts. but maybe it was time to discuss it.

"don't think i'm letting you go that easily." satoru remarked. he kept his arms around your waist, squeezing you tighter as you giggled. god, he loved that laugh. it was music to his ears.

you placed your hands on his chest. his blue eyes sparkled like the tokyo bay whenever he looked at you, his perfect slender nose led your gaze to his soft pink lips.

he slowly leaned down towards you. you could feel his quiet breath against yours as you felt your heart race. you stood on the tip of your toes, moving your hands from his chest to lock your arms around his neck and shoulders instead.

you couldn't tell who kissed who first, but your lips and satoru's lips were made for each other. it was like the satisfying feeling of two puzzle pieces fitting perfectly together.

your tongues entangled, the two of you giving each other gentle kisses until you both felt like you couldn't breathe. you just couldn’t get enough of kissing satoru. you felt dizzy and out of breath, but you still wanted more.

and that was yours and satoru's first kiss.

as you pulled away from satoru to catch your breath, running your tongue across your bottom lip, still tasting his strawberry-flavored lip balm on you. you continued to hold him close. he studied your face before cracking a joke to break the awkwardness in the air.

"my virgin lips!" satoru gasped in fake shock as you laughed and kissed him again to steal his fake innocence. he couldn't believe that he finally got to kiss you. he was so infatuated with you in this very moment. if this was how it felt to kiss you, he hoped that he could do it every day for the rest of his life (along with hearing your laugh that he loved so much).

"that was really our first kiss? what took you so long?" you asked satoru in disbelief.

"it only took about 2 months." satoru dramatically sighed, "you're playing hard to get, princess. there was only so much hand holding and hugging i could take."

you scrutinized him, "it's only fair that a girl plays hard to get when it comes to satoru gojo."

"well, then. it's a good thing satoru gojo only wants one girl and her name is (y/n) (l/n)."

you continued to banter with him just how he liked, "wow, she sounds like a great girl for satoru gojo to only want her."

"she is." satoru beamed with pride, "she's the girl of my dreams." he said as he snuck another kiss.

you rolled your eyes and laughed, "you're so cheesy, babe."

satoru blinked twice, tilting his head to the right, "did you just call me babe?"

"no, sorry, i meant satoru." you quickly covered your mouth with your hands, a flush of red filling your cheeks.

satoru corrected you, "who’s satoru? i go by babe now."

"satoru."

"no! go back to calling me babe!" he whined, hoping you'd change your mind again.

you couldn't contain your laugh. you attempted to change the subject to distract him. you asked him sweetly so he couldn’t resist, "satoru, can you kiss me again?"

"don't gotta tell me twice, babe." satoru grinned, throwing back the petname towards you.

the white haired sorcerer bent down again to kiss you on your forehead, down your nose and on your lips again. you hit him on the chest.

"what was that for?!" satoru complained, "first we're kissing and then i get a smack to the chest?"

"this!" you motioned your arms around him and you, "—is why your grandmother didn't want us sleeping in the same room!"

satoru smirked at you, "i don't care. i'm staying here tonight."

you squealed as he swiftly picked you up bridal style and placed you on the bed, the both of you getting under the covers. he turned to face you as you watched him.

he kissed you on your forehead and left one last strawberry-flavored peck on your lips. he stroked your cheek with his hand and smiled at you. you turned your back to him so he could be the big spoon. he gave you an arm pillow as his free hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

"goodnight, satoru." you said, closing your eyes.

he called out your name before you fell asleep. "(y/n)?"

"what, satoru?" you asked, furrowing your eyebrows. this man would never let you sleep in peace. maybe you should have never invited him into your room on that one fateful day. (read 'love at first fight' here)

"can you call me babe again?"

you could feel your eyes rolling to the back of your head, "oh my god, satoru. no. go to sleep or go back to your room."

"it was worth a try." satoru grinned as he snuck a kiss to your shoulder blade. he snuggled his face into the crevice of your neck and shoulder. you could feel his soft breath against the nape of your neck as you fell asleep to the scent of jasmine and the warmth of satoru's body.

*****************************

little did you know, while you were sleeping, sobo and ojii opened the bedroom door to check on you. and to their surprise, they saw satoru in your bed too. his frosty white head of hair was still snug between your neck and shoulders, his arm curved around your waist as you both cuddled for warmth under the cool linen duvet. they smiled at each other as they saw the two of you sleeping together peacefully.

"look at them, dear... aren’t they precious?" sobo whispered to ojii as he smiled back at her. his grandparents were happy that their grandson was happy. being the satoru gojo was lonely, anyone who was willing to love their grandson for him and not for the powers he possessed was enough for them.

and you were enough for the gojo clan.

the next morning

"gramps wants to see your cursed technique, so we're heading to the sparring dojo after breakfast." satoru explained, biting into a piece of toast. you used your thumb to wipe off the crumbs that stuck to his bottom lip. you planted a gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth.

you were enjoying breakfast together in the banquet hall. in front of you were small plates of bacon, sausages, eggs cooked sunny side up for you and scrambled for satoru, toast with different flavored jams, and a small stack of pancakes with a little too much syrup thanks to satoru. the head cook of the gojo clan went all out for the occasion, happy to see you enjoying the food here.

"so what cursed technique does your ojii have?" you asked satoru as you poked at a piece of sausage with your fork.

"anything i can do, he can do and more. he just doesn't have the six eyes. and he's pretty damn good with close combat. almost everyone in my family is."

you leaned into him innocently and nudged his shoulder, "maybe you can teach me sometime."

satoru laughed at your sudden bold move on him, "what? training with mei isn't good enough?"

"she kicks my ass every time." you groaned. every spar with mei mei was grueling. no wonder her and touya got along.

"i'm not gonna go easy on you, babe." satoru sipped his orange juice, "just because you're cute, don't think i'll let you win. i never lose."

"babe, huh?" you laughed, thinking about last night and how you called him that first.

satoru smiled mischievously at you, "would you rather it be sweetie pie, sweetheart, babe, honey or sweet cheeks? all of them are good to me."

you crinkled your nose in embarrassment, hitting his arm playfully. he laughed and held your tiny fist against his chest. you tried to take your hand back, but he held onto it tightly.

"excuse me, master gojo, miss (l/n)." a boy around the same age as satoru came into the banquet hall.

you glared at satoru to let go of your hand. he just continued to laugh, knowing you were embarrassed about the pda.

satoru gave the boy a head nod, "hey kaito, what's up?"

"sorry to interrupt, but grand master gojo is ready to see you and miss (l/n) in the sparring dojo."

satoru gave kaito a thumbs up, "cool, we'll be there in a sec."

you got up and started to clear the utensils and plates from breakfast. the housekeepers insisted that you leave it to them, but you continued to help by stacking up plates on the cart before leaving the banquet hall. satoru admired how helpful and thoughtful you were in that moment. you were the same way even at jujutsu high. the girl he was falling head over heels for never ceased to amaze him.

satoru grabbed your hand to lead you to the dojo, you looked at him and asked the question you were wondering for the past couple of minutes. "who was that? the guy that came to find us."

"that's kaito. he's my grandpa's assistant. he’s a good guy."

satoru cracked his knuckles, preparing himself for whatever was going to happen in the dojo.

at the sparring dojo

as you entered the dojo, you saw ojii standing in the center of room with a couple of other boys around satoru's age.

"looks like my cousins decided to show up today." satoru announced. he felt irritated knowing this. he started to stretch his arms and legs.

"why are you stretching?" you asked him curiously.

"we're gonna be sparring. anything goes in the gojo sparring dojo."

your jaw dropped, "wait. what do you mean—"

"hey satoru!" a cousin approached satoru, waving. he had greyish white hair and dark blue eyes, he looked just like satoru's grandfather.

"what's up, minato?" satoru greeted while glaring at his cousin.

"this your little girlfriend that i've been hearing about? ojii said you brought a friend home this time around." minato glanced over at you.

"minato, this is (y/n). she's from the (l/n) clan." satoru cleared his throat. "—and yes, she's my girlfriend."

this definitely wasn't the way satoru imagined he would be introducing you as his girlfriend. but in a room full of his cousins around his age, he felt the need to stake his claim on what was his.

you quickly glanced at satoru, baffled to be exact. did he really just introduce you as his girlfriend? you turned to his cousin and greeted him, "—hi, i'm (y/n). it's nice to meet you!"

"nice, a (l/n). what element do you have?" minato asked you abruptly. he really didn't care for the introductions.

you pooled a large sphere of water in your hand to show him. his cousin grinned at you.

"water? wow. you and satoru must've been destined to be together." he scoffed, turning back to satoru, "come on six eyes, let's go say hi to ojii."

satoru continued to glare at his cousin in annoyance. you noticed that he was gritting his teeth, his jaw tense. you grabbed his hand, trying comfort him. you walked with satoru to greet his grandfather.

"(y/n), satoru." ojii nodded, "did you sleep well last night?"

"yes, thank you!" you bowed, "the bed in the guest room was very comfortable."

"i'm glad satoru could keep you warm last night." his grandfather teased.

your jaw dropped as satoru, minato, and his other cousins stared laughing. you felt your cheeks turn beet red. this is exactly why you didn't want satoru to sleep in your room. first it was yaga-sensei, and now it was satoru’s own grandfather.

"it was either that or she slept in my room, gramps. and you know grams would never allow that." satoru shrugged, attempting to save you from embarrassment.

satoru's grandfather turned to you, studying your cursed energy. "(y/n), genkei mentioned that you hold the element of water. i'd love to see the extent of your powers. how is your domain expansion coming along?"

“i’ve almost perfected it.” you smiled at him.

"gramps, she's really strong." satoru explained, "she's the second fastest at laying out her domain."

"who's the first?" a cousin named ren asked.

satoru gave ren a peace sign, "i am, of course."

"well then, i'd love to see your skills." ojii reached out for your hand to help you up onto the platform he was standing on. satoru watched as you stood with his grandfather.

"do you think you can target all five of these boys with your cursed technique?" ojii asked, wondering what the limits of your cursed energy was. was your power similar to limitless with the never ending negative emotions that came with water?

you scanned the room, satoru, minato, ren, and two more cousins stood in front of you. you nodded, knowing you could probably land a hit on one of the boys.

ojii laughed in amusement, "you have free reign to do whatever you want to these punks, don't hold back."

you drew 16 ice shards. satoru scoffed as his cousins' eyes widened. satoru was very familiar with these ice shards as he probably got one thrown at him on the daily. his cousins took a defensive stance as your ice shards circled around you.

you threw all of the shards in different directions. as the five gojo boys were jumping and dodging, you casted multiple jets of water in different pressures, speeds, and sizes. you managed to land a hit on one of the gojo boys. you waved away your shards and water jets, running to the injured cousin's side.

"mako is fine." ojii stated, "don't worry."

"i'm so sorry!" you gulped, "are you okay?"

"yeah, i'm fine." mako winced as he sat up, "damn, satoru. your girlfriend sure packs a punch."

"tell me about it." satoru grinned while walking towards the both you, "(y/n), it's okay. mako's fine." he patted your shoulder to let you know it was okay. you felt horrible that mako got hurt because of you even though his grandfather said you had free reign. you and satoru helped mako up so that he could sit on the sidelines where the gojo clan's family doctor started to heal him with reversed cursed energy.

"genkei said that you can also use reversed cursed energy. is that true?" ojii asked as he saw you watching the gojo clan's doctor heal mako. he was as good as new again in just a matter of moments.

you turned back to his grandfather, "yes, i can heal people."

"can you heal satoru?”

“i healed him once, but he hasn't gotten hurt since, so i haven't been able to try it again."

"well, let's put that to the test." ojii said as he quickly shot out a small red beam, barely slicing satoru's arm enough for him to bleed, but not enough to cause any true pain to his precious grandson.

satoru winced as he grabbed his arm. blood trickling down his bicep and forearm, "what the hell, gramps? what was that for?"

"ojii really hit you with red?" minato's eyes widened, "that was a fast cast."

"he wants to see if (y/n) can heal me." satoru grunted. he walked towards you as you looked at him in shock. you couldn't believe his own grandfather hit him with a cursed technique so fast that satoru didn't even get a chance to dodge it or turn on his infinity.

you placed your hand on his arm, worried, "are you okay?"

satoru scoffed, "yeah, don't you worry your pretty little head. can you fix me up?"

"of course."

minato, mako, ren, and kyo came over to watch you heal satoru. your right hand hovered over the small cut on his arm. you focused your cursed energy as water started to surround the cut and heal his wound. his cousins were amazed to see someone outside of the family doctor heal another person, and so was his grandfather.

"does it feel better?"

"like it never happened." satoru gave you a thumbs up and a cheeky smile to go along with it. "well, gramps? what do you think?"

ojii nodded his head in approval, "impressive. i'd like to see your domain expansion now."

"wait, you want me to use my domain expansion on you?" you asked in disbelief.

"would you mind?"

you shook with uneasiness. ojii really trusted you that much to show him your domain expansion? you only ever sparred with touya and satoru when it came to your domain expansion...

"um... if you can try to stay in one place instead of swimming to the top or bottom of my domain, i'll active it for 10 seconds so you can see what it feels like."

"go ahead, (y/n). an old geezer like me can handle it." ojii laughed. satoru pushed you foward. he knew how powerful your domain was and he knew that his grandfather could handle it, he wasn't worried.

your hand signal for your domain was the buddhist hand gesture of the vitarka mudra. you connected the tip of your thumb and index fingers while keeping the other three fingers straight. you put your hand in front of you. "domain expansion: iridescent ocean." (a/n: sorry this detail wasn’t explained in love at first fight!)

a large sphere surrounded you and ojii as it started to fill with water. you could see ojii start to hold his breath as he was submerged underneath the water. he was using some type of reversed cursed technique to try to cancel out your sure hit from your domain. you saw the blinding lights at the top and felt the water pressure at the bottom, you wondered what it felt like to ojii. after ten seconds, you released your domain as water poured onto the floor of the dojo.

ojii was breathless as you, satoru, and his cousins ran towards him. "i'm fine," he waved you all off, "i wanted to see what (y/n) could do. i could barely move or breathe in that domain. i can see why water is quite dangerous and why there can only be one water user in a lifetime."

"hey! that's like satoru and his six eyes!" kyo said with a smile, putting his arm around satoru.

"your grandparents must be proud of you and the way you’ve honed in on your techniques, (y/n). i know i would be too if you were my granddaughter." ojii continued, "you must be tired using all of this cursed energy in one session. satoru, make sure she gets some rest before dinner."

satoru nodded, "understood, gramps."

"boys! clean up the dojo." his grandfather called out to the rest of his grandsons.

minato grumbled, "if bringing home a girlfriend means i don't have to clean the dojo, i'm doing that next time."

"i can hear you boy. i may be old, but i haven't lost my sense of hearing." ojii retorted.

everyone laughed as satoru and you waved and said your goodbyes until dinner. a wave of exhaustion hit you as you fell forward towards satoru.

"i got you," he caught your fall and swiped you off your feet, "you tired?"

"exhausted." you whispered. he held you in his arms, bringing you back to your room. you tried to stay awake, but fatigue overpowered you.

he placed you onto the bed as you were already fast asleep, draping a blanket over you. you must've been completely worn out just like the first day he met you. you used all your techniques, a reversed cursed technique, and a domain expansion that same day too. you were really something else…

he smiled at you before closing the door behind him. it was time for his meeting with the gojo clan elders.

in the conference room

"how are your studies going, child?" one of the elders asked.

"average." satoru bluntly admitted.

"and your jujutsu training?"

"fantastic." he said sarcastically, "i'm ranked first in close combat and cursed technique."

"although you are number one in cursed technique, you need to be able to harness the power of infinity. that must be activated at all times for your protection." another elder added.

"27/4 with infinity? that's crazy. i'll run out of cursed energy. and i get tired when i have it on for long periods of time!" satoru barked.

ojii interjected, "not necessarily, satoru. that's where limitless comes in. limitless and infinity work together, if you can make sure that you always use a reversed cursed technique in small amounts, you will not tire yourself out. that is why you got hit with red earlier. if you had infinity on at all times, that wouldn't have happened."

satoru folded his arms in frustration. his clan elders always asked so much of him. sometimes he wished he wasn't born with the six eyes. he was tired of being told what to do and how to do it.

a third clan elder joined in, "it will take time and practice to do so, make sure you work on that this semester."

"how is your training with activating red and hollow purple coming along?" the first clan elder from earlier asked.

satoru rolled his eyes and muttered, "i’m working on it."

"this is serious business, satoru." the elder lectured him, "there are only a few select members of the clan that even know of hollow purple. that is our secret weapon against the rival families and our enemies."

"i got it, i got it." satoru shrugged, "i'll work harder."

"the last thing we want to talk about it is the (l/n) girl." the last elder in the group went on to say.

satoru glared. what could they possibly want with you? "—and what about her?"

"keep her safe. the (l/n) clan and the gojo clan have a strong alliance. if anything happens to her, consider the allied ties severed."

"nothing is going to happen to her as long as i'm with her. i swear on my life." satoru said confidently, "is that all?"

the elders dismissed satoru as he stepped out of the room. he groaned, he hated having these meetings every semester. he felt like every aspect of his life was controlled. could he just chill and have fun while in high school? he walked back to your room as the elders continued their talk.

"satoru will protect her. i've seen the way he looks at her. he cares about her." ojii explained to the remaining elders.

"should we meet with the (l/n) elders and consider an arranged marriage for them then?"

ojii disagreed with anything that had to do with an arranged marriage. "no. we don't need to arrange a marriage for soulmates who were destined to find each other again in this lifetime." ojii laughed in hilarity, "another six eyes and a water cursed technique user from the (l/n) clan together after 400 years... what a sight to behold."

back to satoru's pov

as satoru walked back to your room, he dismissed what the elders had to say. they really wanted him to have infinity on 24/7? were they insane? he should be able to turn his infinity off around people he was comfortable with, right? should he really have it on at all times?

satoru knocked on your door before barging in. you opened your eyes groggily as he sat down at the foot of the bed.

"did i knock out?" you asked sheepishly.

"completely. you fell straight into my arms." satoru smiled softly at you. just the sight of you made all his problems fade away. "you feeling better?"

"yeah, just a little tired."

"ready to go back to jujutsu high tomorrow?"

"i like it here, satoru." you smiled back at him, "we should come back soon." according to satoru, he only came to see his family at the end of each semester. you hoped that you'd visit more often with him.

"didn't you want to visit your family soon?" satoru asked.

"yes, and you should officially come visit with me." you sat up in the bed. "your last visit didn't count."

satoru laughed boisterously at the memory. he missed you so much he teleported to your clan's estate without telling you. he lied to save face, "i had to make sure you were safe."

you laughed at his ridiculous statement, "safe in my own family's home?"

"it's probably time for me to formally introduce myself as your boyfriend to your brother, huh?"

"i guess you can call yourself my boyfriend... i'll allow it," you grinned at him, "—and you better hope that touya doesn't kick your ass."

satoru and you shared a laugh as he patted your head, brushing your messy bed hair down your neck and back. you grabbed his hand and placed it against your cheek as satoru leaned in for a kiss.

"ready for dinner?" he asked.

"god, yes. i'm starving."

the next morning: heading back to jujutsu high

"the both of you take care now." sobo said, "make sure to eat all your meals and train properly."

satoru hugged his grandmother and kissed her on the cheek, "thanks grams."

"(y/n), it was a pleasure having you as our guest. come back soon, we'd love to see you again." ojii said as he smiled at you.

"thank you so much for having me!" you bowed towards the both of them and gave them your million dollar smile that satoru loved so much.

"grams, gramps, (y/n) is my girlfriend.” satoru proudly stated, “so it only makes sense that she'll be coming back to visit.”

"girlfriend, huh?" you nudged satoru with your elbow as he put his arm around your shoulder.

ojii and sobo laughed. they already knew that you and satoru would love each other in this lifetime. they could sense it as soon as satoru walked through the door with you. everyone besides satoru and yourself could see that you two were meant for each other.

"i’m sure kanao and genkei would love to finally meet the gojo clan's child that stole their granddaughter's heart," sobo gushed, "(y/n), make sure satoru meets your grandparents soon. next time you're back, satoru's parents should be here for you to meet."

"i can't wait to meet them," you said excitedly, "satoru is coming home with me in a couple weeks to meet my brother and grandparents."

ojii turned to his grandson, "satoru, make sure you pay your respects when you meet genkei and kanao. and take care of (y/n)."

satoru put his arm around your shoulder, "of course, gramps! nothing's gonna happen to my girl!"

you rolled your eyes at your newly titled boyfriend as his grandparents laughed at the both of you. satoru and you said your farewells to the gojo clan. his grandparents, akemi, hitomi, and kaito saw you off before satoru teleported you both back to tokyo jujutsu high.

EXTRA:

"so what did you think?" satoru asked as you were applying moisturizer on your cheeks. you rubbed your face in circular motions, working the cream into your face.

"think of what?"

"—of my family."

you took a moment to think before answering, "everyone was so nice and welcoming. i was thinking it was going to be the exact opposite to be honest." you admitted.

you sat down on your bed, satoru sat up and scooted over to make room for you. he raised his eyebrow at you, "why would you think that?"

"hmmm, the gojo clan being the number one family in jujutsu society might be a reason."

satoru rolled his eyes, "god, my family isn't as horrible and stuck up as people make us out to be. we live a quiet life and mind our business."

satoru frowned as you tilted your head towards him. "what's on your mind?" you asked as you caressed his cheek with your hand.

"my cousins said some stuff that bugged me before we left." satoru mumbled and pouted his lips.

"oh no, satoru gojo bothered by his own family?" you sarcastically sang, "what could they have possibly said to upset you?"

"they kept talking about how hot you were." satoru complained, "as if my cousins are your type. they need to find their own girl and back off of mine."

satoru gojo was jealous. now that was something you didn't see every day.

you smirked, attempting to push satoru's buttons, "i don't know, satoru. minato was really nice to me before we left. should i ask for his number next time?"

satoru gasped, "you wouldn't."

your bright laugh filled your dorm room, satoru ears perked at the lovely sound, but still attempted to glare at you with his cerulean blue eyes.

you confessed, "you're right, babe. i wouldn't. you're the only one for me."

"oh really?" he countered, "give me a kiss to prove it then."

"fine," you muttered, "come here, you big baby."

DIVIDERS PROVIDED BY @/ANLIAN-AISHANG

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sparklecarehospital · 9 months ago

Text

an anecdote about my recent art

i figured i'd make a post about this, just cuz i know people have probably noticed it. this isn't in response to anything anyone said, i don't know if anyone is actually talking about this or not, it's more just me talking because i feel like sharing this with you guys.

i'm sure you've noticed that suddenly i'm making an influx of main comic art. for a long time, months and months, i had really struggled with being able to fixate on my characters in their natural state as opposed to the various AUs i've been working on.

that's not to say i "abandoned" the main comic, but it's more that i wasn't really drawing it for fun anymore. i still worked on pages, v4 is finished being drawn and v5 is in the works, but it became more of a work-only thing and my personal art almost never focused on the main comic versions of my OCs.

the reasons for this are... complicated. some of it was emotional, some of it was trauma that i'd rather not go into detail about, but for lack of better words i just wasn't as comforted or engaged as i was when drawing AU stuff. cometcare is the most important thing in my life and it always will be, and i guess i just was going through a period where i needed that comfort more than anything. my life has been hard lately for lots of reasons, and they make me feel safe and better.

this also meant i wasn't attached to the main comic as much anymore, as i wasn't drawing it for fun. but i want to change that. i want to be able to re-attach to my OCs the way they started and as they really are because that's what matters most in the grand scheme of things. i'll always have my silly AUs, but i don't want my emotional state or current trauma or horrors i'm experiencing to make me incapable of loving my OCs the way they actually are.

thank you guys for being patient with me as i go through this, i know it's probably made some people sad that i distanced the way i did and i'm really sorry. last night i realized how sad it made me too. i want to make it better. i'm not giving up on the AUs, i'll still make updates and art for them, it's not that, but i'm not going to make it the only thing i ever focus on anymore.

i love you guys. thank you for supporting me and my art and stories, regardless of what it is, it means more than you'll ever know

#text #sparklecare #putting this is the tag because i want Everyone to see this

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pengweng-quack · 9 months ago

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Bloodbound

Carlisle Cullen x Human!OC

Summary: Place Carlisle in the Edward situation of falling in love with a human, and see what happens

Chapter 1/?

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8

Notes:

The only thing that took so long about this is the title because fuck titles (genuinely)

This is on Ao3 under the same title and username if you'd like to read it there (https://archiveofourown.org/works/54527830)

Probably would be my last (long) twilight post in a while since I've lost interest in the series for a while (give it like 3 weeks before I regain it lmao)

Posting (just like before) is random lol, hope you guys enjoy this story

Much much longer than Being a Witch with Vampires by the way, so we're in a long ride (or you are, because I already know the story)

Word Count: 2294 words

General warning: I used some religious references in this story so read with caution if you're not so keen into reading that

TW for this chapter: None

PM or Comment to be added on the taglist for this one!

Masterlist

A full year had passed since the Cullens returned to Forks, now acting as grownups instead of some teenager studying in Forks high school, minus Renesmee, to her dismay. Carlisle received a warm welcome back to the hospital, where he encountered new faces introduced to him since his departure.

“Good morning Doctor Cullen.” A nurse with red hair greeted politely to him, he was around his height and had brown eyes, a face that he doesn’t remember during his time there

“I’m nurse Sean, not the chief nurse but I think Eunice is getting her out now.” Sean informed him “You’ll like her I think, she’s professional as fuck.”

A girl with her chestnut hair tied up in a bun walked out of a room. At that moment, all Carlisle could think about was how captivating the woman was, everything about her screamed authority, he knew then and there that she was the chief nurse.

Time felt like it slowed down when they locked eyes, this woman has plagued over his mind. Carlisle subtly admired her face, she had eyes that matched the shade of her hair and pale pink lips that complimented her fair complexions.

“Celine Wright, chief nurse here.” Celine introduced herself with a prim and proper tone. She offered her hand in a handshake and Carlisle accepted it, feeling the warmth of her hand against the coldness of his

“Carlisle Cullen, former chief doctor here.” Carlisle introduced back, pulling his hand away from the handshake “Pleasure to meet you.”

From the stories that Carlisle has heard, Celine was 25 years old when she assumed the position and has demonstrated remarkable competence, excelling in her role for a year prior his return with unparalleled precision and skill.

But it was distracting him, she was distracting him. Despite her undeniable competence, it was her blood that proved to be the real challenge for Carlisle. The tantalizing scent of it often left Carlisle struggling to focus, forcing him to endure long stretches without breathing just to filter out the temptation.

But even after leaving work, her scent lingered in his mind, infiltrating every aspect of his life. Something as harmless as a report file with a hint of her scent could drive him to the brink of madness.

It’s been a year since Carlisle has been working with Celine, a year of extreme caution over his thirst. He was always making sure that he was fed before going to the hospital, making sure that there was always some distance between them. However, as the chief nurse, their interactions were inevitable, presenting a constant challenge to Carlisle's restraint.

It also didn’t help that Celine’s kind and caring nature was growing on him in ways that he didn’t expect that it’ll do so. Her smile became a source of motivation for him, brightening his day with a single glance. He found himself instinctively seeking her out upon arriving at work, drawn to her presence like a magnet.

Celine was growing on him, as a person, as a friend, as someone that he wishes he could pursue openly.

“She’s your blood singer and mate.” Edward concluded, having experienced a similar scenario before “You’re dealing with what I’ve dealt with when Bella was still human.”

“Great,” Rosalie scoffed, crossing her arm “Another human.”

“Carlisle won’t pressure her into something that she doesn’t want to partake herself in.” Esme assured everyone

“We would never know if he doesn’t pursue her.” Alice said, holding on from having another vision whether Celine Wright was in their future or not

“Would we rob Carlisle a chance to finally be with his mate?” Edward argued to Rosalie

“Would you rob another girl’s humanity for an uncertainty?” Rosalie asked him back; the tension was growing between the two

“Enough with the arguing.” Carlisle said, a decision set in his head

“I’ve figured out that she’s my mate. But I will not pressure her into anything.” He stated at once to everyone that was listening to him “Nor will I pursue her whatsoever. Let the future play how it has planned to be. Alice, Edward, no attempting to manipulate it to one of your visions.”

Just in time, his alarm has rung, notifying him that he has a shift to get ready for. He bids his goodbye, going to his office to get ready.

He was painfully slow, questioning whether his choice was the right one, plagued by uncertainty and the fear of denying himself a chance at happiness.

But underneath his own desires was the concern for Celine's well-being. He couldn't bear the thought of forcing her into a life she didn't want, no matter how difficult it was for him to accept the possibility of letting her go.

“Are you sure of your decision?” Esme asked him, walking into his office “Do you really want to just give up like that already?”

“She deserves a long, happy life.” Carlisle spoke softly, grabbing his briefcase with all the reports that he’s brought home “Not be damned for eternity.”

“And if she asks for a long, happy life with you, then what?” Esme asked him, making Carlisle ponder at her question. She was right, what certainty did he have that Celine wouldn’t welcome this life?

‘The risk is too high.’ He thought to himself

He left without answering her question.

It was another late-night shift that Celine accepted. Having heard another alibi from one of her co-nurses. Lying and saying that “they have some important matters to deal with,” only to see them by the bar as she drives by, drunk beyond their capabilities.

‘I have nothing to do anyways, so why not just earn more so I could leave this shitty town.’ She always used that to convince herself

In all honesty, Celine's financial status was not a factor in her decision. She had inherited a comfortable sum from when her parents died, ensuring that she was shielded from any financial struggles. But she’s heard that Doctor Cullen always took a night shift, working perfectly for their family’s set up of needing someone to be at home at all times.

What’s wrong if she was to indulge herself and the tiny crush that she had for him? After all, he wasn't married, a fact his hand had subtly conveyed to her.

“Nurse Celine, good to see you…again.” Carlisle greeted, walking in her office (which technically, is his office too) with a disposable cup of coffee “I thought your shift was over?”

“Yeah, Nurse Alex had to bail, said something along the lines of dealing with some personal stuff.” Celine answered “Made sure to give him the morning shift though, just as some sort of revenge.”

“I do not condone that behavior, but frankly, I would say that you deserve the rest.” Carlisle said, sitting next to her. It was dangerous, he knew. But he didn’t want to leave her alone.

“It’s a slow night.” Celine reported “Just one rush to the E.R. thinking that they were dying because of some spots they saw on their face. After doing some checking on it, it was just some questionably large pimples. Scary? Yes. But not fatal.”

“At least it has been slow so you won’t tire yourself too much.” Carlisle said, pushing the coffee near her

“Why don’t you just say to your sister that you don’t actually enjoy the coffee she makes? It just feels like a waste, giving away your coffee every time.” Celine asked, accepting the cup and drinking it

Carlisle was asked by Celine one time why he wasn’t drinking the coffee that he had, noticing that the cup was left untouched until he throws it away just after his shift. In panic, he fabricated a story, claiming that his sister Esme, who worked night shifts at her own job, often made coffee for herself and would give the extras to him.

He had offered it to her then, hoping that the coffee Esme made because she has missed the aroma of coffee was in Celine’s taste. Celine didn’t answer that time if she had enjoyed the coffee or not, but every time he would offer her the coffee, she would accept it.

This silent acceptance fueled Carlisle's hope that perhaps, in some small way, they were connecting through these shared moments over coffee.

From then, he asked Esme about the recipe and continued to make it from the comfort of his car before he walked in the hospital, using the coffee as a conversation starter, a way to engage with her, hoping to deepen their connection through these small interactions.

“You enjoy it.” Carlisle answered almost immediately. Celine looked at him, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion

“I mean, she always makes it at night for her work. Offers some to me, even though I don’t drink coffee, I’m just too shy to not accept it. And besides, you deserve some coffee yourself too.” Carlisle explained further, giving Celine the satisfaction of getting an answer

“Thanks. I owe you one.” Celine said, lifting the coffee and drinking some more of it “How do you even get the energy to do night shifts? Ever since you got here, you’ve like made it your thing to be the one for night shifts.”

“I sleep in the morning.” Carlisle answered, having prepared an alibi for when that question inevitably gets asked to him “Did kind of take a toll on my social life though, I’ll tell you. But I have accepted this way when I decided to step into the field of medicine.”

“Really?” Celine asked, piqued with how he was opening up “Why prefer night shift then? You could easily be transferred to morning shift if you’d just ask.”

“I prefer it this way.” Carlisle answered, Celine pondered if someone has asked him this question before “Besides, who will give you your daily coffee if I don’t join you with the night shifts?”

“I can get myself coffee, thank you very much.” Celine answered, fake insult in her tone and playfully rolling her eyes at him

“I know you can, I do enjoy it just as much to be the one to give you your coffees.” Carlisle said, a smile on his face

‘He looked like a Ken doll.’ She thought, looking at Carlisle and admiring his seemingly perfect features. His eyes was shining golden, a shade she never thought was possible for a human to have. The pale pink tint of his lips stirred a fleeting curiosity about their softness, though she quickly brushed aside any thoughts of how they might feel against her own.

“Some of the nurses are getting jealous, you should give them coffee sometimes.” Celine teased him. Carlisle looked at her, his eyebrows raised at her teasing. He did not want to give anyone else some sort of affection.

His undead heart was with hers before she even knew it.

“That’s if they’ll like 5 teaspoons of sugar and 3 teaspoons of creamer in their coffee.” Carlisle teased her back, watching as she finishes the coffee that he has prepared

“Well, anything that you would give to them, they’ll accept really.” She answered, before going back to reading some reports that the morning shift nurses has prepared for them

The night was long, the comforting silence joining them as they read through. Fortunately, there were no urgent emergencies demanding their attention. It wasn’t until Carlisle heard Celine stifle a yawn that made him check his watch, the small screen showing 8:17 AM.

“Shift over.” Carlisle announced, standing up and faking a stretch

He could have stayed there forever had she been able to do the same.

“Finally.” Celine mumbled, the aftermath of the coffee finally taking a toll on her as she slumps herself on the seat that she’s been on for the past 12 hours “So tired.”

“Need a ride home?” Carlisle asked, seeing that she wasn’t awake enough to go home on her own

Despite his declaration not to pursue Celine, Carlisle found himself engaging in behaviors that seemed to contradict his words. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was unintentionally leading her on, even though she hadn't explicitly expressed interest in him, neither through her words nor her body language.

“I’m fine, brought my car with me.” Celine murmured; her eyes closed as she rests her head on the chair “Just need a few minutes to close my eyes.”

“Okay then.” Carlisle answered, sitting down on the chair where he was sitting earlier, grabbing a bit more reports to read as he accompanies her

The few minutes became an hour. Then the hour became two hours. Carlisle then slowly realized that Celine was beginning to doze off in the chair she was sitting in. He looked at her with a small smile on his face.

He didn’t need to be a vampire or a doctor to know that she was in an uncomfortable position. Her whole torso was slouched down and her head was down, giving the look that she was uncomfortably bowing.

Carlisle moved his seat closer to hers, feeling the warmth of her arm against the coldness of his. With tender care, he lifted her head, cradling it on his shoulder. Though not as plush as a pillow, he knew it would be far more comfortable than where her head had previously rested.

As he sat there, Carlisle gazed at Celine, closing his eyes and synchronizing his faux breathing with hers, attuned to the steady rhythm of her heartbeat.

Carlisle knew that it was temptation, being this close to her. And a sin to indulge himself in such temptation. But if he was to be damned today, he would be happy to have indulged himself with the existence of Celine.

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kirbybecomesastarwarrior · 3 months ago

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Once again I thank you all so much for supporting me during the Kirby OC Tournament. Especially all my followers & mutual who humored me with all the poll reblog stuff.

As promised the lore. (And I've been cooking this turkey for a while and it's ready to come out of the oven.)

Fair Warning contains spoilers... I will not be explaining all the details of what happening. This is incredibly vague & via musical... so I won't spoil that much (since this does take place during the final arc... Void Termina Saga). The events that are being shown do not happen exactly how they are portrayed, however the essence of what's happening is the same.

Morgan shall be singing "Last Midnight from Into the Woods,"

youtube

Spoiler warning, (More drawn content is contained below)

(OH NO WHAT'S HAPPENING TO KIRBY...Sorry, I can't explain it just yet... Nor why Meta Knight's mask is broken in half... maybe he got into a fight or something, hold the phone I thought Galacta was trapped in insanity... what happened... Sorry if I tell anything of that it'll spoil the good stuff)

Dame Morgan: It's the Last Midnight

So in summary: After they refuse to hand Kirby over, Morgan reveals there's a traitor in their midst... Fumu is the reason why Kirby is in the state he is in (Fumu is currently regretting her life choices). Leaving Meta & Gala shocked, and scared to death at Kirby's current state, while Kirby is sad, and betrayed again...~

And Morgan just having herself a time, living her best life~

In the KBASW series, she tricks three major characters:

Namely: Queen Ripple, Hyness, and Fumu/Tiff. (the most devastating one she tricks)

Dame Morgan is basically a mixture of: "The Witch" from Into the Woods, Morgan from (Merlin's 2008 TV series), Eris from Sinbad (she has the voice of Eris), and the Joker from Batman.

Morgan represents the opposite of Celestine... (via Morgan vs. Merlyn wizard rivalry) The Anti-Celestine so to speak~

The one person she hates more than Arthur is Merlyn/Celestine.

Celestine sees magic as a tool, not a solution or the answer to your problem... promoting true self-improvement comes from within. For there will always be...: another bridge to cross, another monster to slay, another woods to go into. The only way to ever truly be prepared in this world is to learn from each other... and to be kind to one another & share the experience. If you cheat your way throw life will just get harder and move with you... Being better and leading a good example will inspire others to be better along with you.

The change starts within, with us...

While Dame Morgan:

Life is unfair, you play by their rules, you follow the system, sacrifice everything to fit the mold, and yet you can still be cheated out of what you deserve...

And you're telling me I should just "hang in there," "hold on", "it's gonna be okay eventually keep smiling".... nah? Let's stop "pretending to be good", everybody is just in it for themselves so... if you do that you're just a fool waiting to be tricked.

Why not live just for yourself... why not cheat back... why not be the bad guy? That's why her theme is "Stella Jang(스텔라장) _ Villain(빌런)

Morgan represents the easy way out, a quick fix... to blame someone else...an escape. How did she obtain this dark magic... The Jamba Heart...Granting everyone's selfish desires... the reason why everyone falls for it is because she has the charisma to make the offer far too tempting and to pass it up, no.

And guess who was her first customer... Hyness~

The biggest change I probably did the to mix anime & game lore. (Kirby Star Allies) In KBASW AU... Morgan the one who convinced Hyness the Jamba Heart was what he needed to restore his clan. It's the reason she's able to stay hidden for a long while...Allowing the negative to naturally corrupt him and use him as a figurehead...

Despite giving him the Jamaba Heart... she did not tell him exactly how to break the seal on Termina... (Whoops she must have forgotten, how clumsy of her...) Purposely having him fail~

However, the secret to this lies with... FUMU!? Due to the reincarnation of the first ruler of Dreamland... she holds the key to unsealing & controlling Void Termina... She throws them to the wrong person. She's very much tricked into thinking she's helping "Kirby," but... yeah this happens instead.

And of course, there's always a price... though once you do realize you've been bamboozled, she'll remind you that she gave you a choice... Ultimately making you realize it's your own fault at the end of the day. Very much rubbing your head in the mess you've made for yourself. (which is exactly what she's doing to Tiff/Fumu right now.)

In summary, she pretty much invites you to be your worst self; she's the villain but deliciously so! :3

#kbasw #kirby oc #dame morgan #meta knight #metadad #galacta knight #kirby right back at ya #kirby anime #krbay #tiff (fumu)#kirby star allies

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utilitycaster · 23 days ago

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sort of an offshoot of that post about video game characters but I think I've mentioned before the third person v. first person split in D&D, namely, do you say "I attack it with my scimitar" or "Drizzt attacks with his scimitar". This is a well-known thing in TTRPGs, I'm sure you can find more intelligent discussion about it, but it's come up for me specifically in that a lot of old-school D&D players skew hard towards third person and often they are less interested in actual play, because they see D&D as a narrative tool. There's no self-inserts; they are narrating the exploits of a guy they made. And so the parasocial elements (which are not necessarily bad, it just depends, and that's another post) have no appeal, and even things like accents don't really.

I don't think third person vs. first person necessarily means "not a self insert vs. self insert." I switch between the two and often use first person. But I don't feel like any D&D character I've played is a self-insert. They have aspects of me, sure, because of course they do, I need to be able to play them and try to think like them, but I think in a game where death and failure are really possible and where you must collaborate and where your options are rather limited - because even in D&D, they are limited by the type of game it is - it's actually vital to separate yourself out from your character.

It comes down to something I've said a lot about so many things in fiction (but yeah, this does bleed into real life): are you able to accept a character who is not like you? Are you able to accept a character who might make wildly different choices than you would? Is your capacity to empathize or see a character as a person limited by them specifically hitting some demographic or philosophical targets you have constructed? Can you, even in a low risk, fictional environment, let yourself be different from how you are.

this seems very silly but I think I may have alluded to Justin McElroy talking about not being able to play fat characters in most games, and so he often just plays characters who do not look a thing like him. He often plays as a woman of color. (I don't recall where this came up? I think it might have been on an ancient polygon video or maybe commentary on one of the TAZ seasons? I'd love to find it again). And I think that's actually really great that this was his instinct. I don't want to diminish the importance of RPGs and TTRPGs for self-discovery; obviously it's been a place for many people to explore gender and sexuality, especially, and I do not want to take away the ability for someone to play as a woman in a game before you feel like you can live as a woman publicly in real life (and notably my issues with the BG3 and Inquisition player characters are not ones of gender/sex/race, ie, I think it is personality and background that might need to be more pre-determined). But yeah, if you cannot connect with characters who aren't like you that's a problem, and it does feel a little frustrating that we know that centering a self-insert OC type makes for a worse story and people still want that.

I've always been intrigued by pre-made sheets in TTRPGs where you are limited in some way, not in a dumb "oh my god you can't play a druid bc I'm a weird vindictive dude mad that your nature magic beats my weaponry" way but just as an exploration of having to walk a mile in other people's shoes and to be a person other than one that you created to exist within your comfort zone. Because a lot of people aren't Justin, and do play themselves or as close to it as they can, regardless of what is happening around them, and I think that is a mistake.

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distant-velleity · 2 months ago

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Deviant in Looking-Glass Land (Teaser)

The boy stared into the mirror before him. Eyes bore into him, whispers mixing in with the crackling of fire. In this vast hall, he alone was an outcast.

It was so different, but so familiar. He held his chin up high, refusing to show weakness.

“State your name,” rumbled the “face” in the mirror.

“Yuuta. Nakajima Yuuta.”

“...The nature of your soul is…”

Silence slowly fell upon the assembly of students, everyone waiting with bated breath. In irritated anticipation, Yuuta clenched his hands into fists.

“——Divergent.”

HI GUYS!!! so i don't have his full introduction ready yet as i still need to make the art and flesh out. a lot of things, but in the meanwhile i wanted to give you this--because i'm bringing in another yuu OC!!! yay!!!

yuuta is actually a pre-existing oc i've had for a while now, but i'll be using him as my other "yuusona"; he isn't part of TGTWST but rather has his own timeline, which will be called Deviant in Looking-Glass Land (DVLGL for short lol)

i'm excited to share my concepts and thoughts for him with all of you, just as i've been doing for yuhua~

stay tuned!

…

That’s right. I wanted to kill him all along. He, who wore the same face and shared the same blood as me. The one who was always the complete opposite of me. That day, I gave up on maintaining an image of “self-control.” I should have regretted it, but I felt relieved. Surely, this was the end of my suffering. Surely, with his death, I can finally be—

...

#my art #twst oc #oc stuff #yuuta nakajima #dvlgl #YAY #i mean some of yall might remember that ive mentioned him here before #and how he was gonna be my yuusona before i decided to create yuhua #(so it's been about a year since i vaguely considered the idea)#but now!!! he's here!!! and i'll be slowly making his timeline as i go #hehe~#lore drop at the end too :) i wonder what that could mean

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mint-yooxgi · 2 years ago

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{13} - Morning Mist - Yandere!Dragon!Ateez X Chubby!Reader

Yandere AU & Dragon AU

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst

Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Focus on Jongho)

Words: 5,900

Warnings: Past trauma discussed: torture and imprisonment, scars, death, violence, a lot of angst but with a happy ending. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: Wow, it's really been a whole ass month since I've updated this series. Lmaooo whoops! Anyways, I really hope you all enjoy this chapter, I've got a lot more planned coming up as the following parts will really focus on the development of OC's relationships with all of the guys. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Also, gentle reminder that I do not do tag lists.

Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six - Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine - Chapter Ten - Chapter Eleven - Chapter Twelve - Mini Masterlist

It’s early that same evening when eight dragons sense a somewhat familiar presence getting closer to their own nest. Focussing in, they soon realize that there are actually two.

Stepping out of their home, all of the Halas (minus Jongho who currently sits on the roof), stare up at the two Neos who descend into their yard. Both dragons are blue in colour, though one is quite a lighter shade than the other. The darker of the two is slightly bigger, but the smaller radiates more of an air of intimidation. A moment later, they discover why.

Landing gracefully on the grass, both Jeno and Renjun appear before the eight Halas.

“Sorry to intrude like this,” Renjun begins, dusting off the front of his pants lightly.

“How did you find us?” It’s Yeosang that asks, brow furrowing slightly as he stares at the Neos.

“Is everything okay?” Immediately, Jongho hops down from the roof, worry clear in his eyes.

“Everything’s fine, don’t worry.” Jeno smiles at him faintly, and he watches as the youngest Hala’s shoulders relax. “You would have heard us roar if something had happened.”

“To answer your question,” Renjun shifts his gaze to Yeosang, “It was easy to find you. You guys don’t really hide your scents as well as you think.”

Hongjoong, San, and Mingi all purse their lips slightly at this, a minor furrow to their brows.

“Why are you here?” It’s Seonghwa who says it, but his tone isn’t as sharp as the Neos are used to. Instead, it holds a genuine curiosity as the eldest Hala crosses his arms over his chest.

“Well, I was sent here to collect a certain dragon.” Renjun says, before motioning to Jeno with a jerk of his head. “Her cub just wanted to ‘tag along’.”

At this, more than a few eyebrows raise.

“I came to make sure you don’t butcher her offer.” Jeno huffs, a roll to his eyes. “You make it sound like you’re here to bring back one of their heads on a spike.”

“Offer?” This catches Wooyoung’s attention, his entire demeanour perking up instantly.

“Who?” San doesn’t even attempt to hide the eagerness in his voice.

Both Renjun and Jeno spare a glance at one another out of the corner of their eyes before their gazes are shifting onto the youngest Hala standing across from them.

“Him.” Renjun jerks his chin in Jongho’s direction.

The younger male cannot help but stand a little straighter in his spot, heart racing in his chest. You sent for him?

“What about?” Yunho does his best to ask the question casually, but his feigned disinterest only serves to make the slight desperation in his voice all the clearer.

“That’s between him and her.” Renjun replies, a mild shrug to his shoulders as he turns back around. “She’ll be waiting.”

“Wait!” It’s the youngest’s voice that has Renjun halting right in his tracks for the moment. As soon as Jongho sees the Neo spare a glance over his shoulder, he’s continuing, “where can I find her?”

The corner of Renjun’s lips quirks upward before turning back around and taking off into the evening sky.

Jeno lets out a sigh, shaking his head. He meets Jongho’s gaze. “Let the lights guide you home.”

In the blink of an eye, Jeno has shifted and taken off into the air, following closely behind Renjun without another word.

All Halas turn to look at their youngest.

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” Mingi frowns, arms crossing over his chest.

“Don’t worry about it.” Jongho breathes, blinking after the two retreating dragons as he attempts to wrap his head around this turn of events.

You want to see him? He can still hardly believe it.

Before any more of his brothers can say another word, Jongho is taking off into the evening sky. The faintest hues of pink and orange begin to dust the clouds as the sun begins to set, warming the earth with its final rays. The way his golden scales glint in the fading light is synonymous with the way that his tail eagerly flicks back and forth through the air, cutting through the sky with a newfound purpose as he flies towards you.

It takes Jongho all of three minutes to reach that little special clearing on the edge of the cliff. He sees you just through the thicket of the trees, that small tower of stones resting beside you as you sit on the ground. The way he can feel your eyes on him, tracking his every movement has a pleasant shiver caressing his spine.

He circles lower.

If he’s being honest with himself, Jongho is a little cautious of flying directly into that clearing. You told him the last time he found you here that you only allow people that you have granted permission access to step foot on such a sacred part of your territory. He’d really rather not run smack into that invisible wall again.

Then, as if you’ve read his every thought, you chuckle.

“You may land, you know.” You smile softly as you stand to your feet. “I would not send for you to join me here if I haven’t already granted you permission to set foot inside this circle.”

Jongho’s breath catches in his throat, and he bets more than anything that you’ve heard his reaction loud and clear. So badly does he want to let out a rumble of content, but he feels as if it might be too much for the moment. He simply does not want to read into this more than is necessary. Yet, with everything that you’ve told him so far, he cannot help but do just that.

You called for him. You wanted to see him.

That alone gives him more hope than you could ever imagine.

Gliding towards that small opening on the side of the cliff, Jongho can still feel your eyes on him. The sensation of having your gaze roam over his true form is unlike any other, and for the first time, he senses that you are taking your time to memorize every detail. He simply hopes that you are as mesmerized by him as he is always mesmerized by you.

With his heart soaring in his chest, Jongho stretches his wings as far as they will go while he comes in for his landing. He purposely puts himself on display, fanning his crown as his tail flicks behind him. The way the light of the setting sun catches on his scales, illuminating the clearing with little iridescent reflections of golden hues has him preening proudly as he shakes out his muzzle.

The feeling of your eyes on him is like no other. That soft smile is still on your features as you stand with your arms gently supporting one another by the elbows. Your cloak rests open over your shoulders and as soon as he shifts back into his human form, you begin to take a few steps towards him. Only, Jongho cannot shake that brief look of longing that crossed your features for a moment.

Why did you just look so sad?

Closing the distance between your two bodies, you come to stand directly before him. Slowly, you take his hands in your own, staring deeply into his eyes.

He swallows thickly, doing whatever he can to keep his body from physically trembling while being held in your touch. “You wanted to see me?”

“I did.” You confirm, a slight nod to your head. “I’m glad you came.”

Jongho nearly hums at your words. “I will always come when you call for me.”

You motion for him to join you near the edge of the cliff, sitting down so that your legs are dangling off of the side. “I desired to speak with you.”

The pleased rumble that escapes him could not have been smothered, even if he tried. “About?”

“I have come to a few realizations over the past day, and there are some things I would like to share with you now.” You say, staring out over the valley as you continue to watch the sun set before you. “If this is to continue between us, then you have a right to know. I want you to know.”

Jongho wishes he could deny the way his breath catches once more in his throat. Slowly, he sits beside you on the edge of the cliff, feeling as if his heart is about to beat right out of his chest.

“I am not promising you anything, Jongho.” You turn to look directly into his eyes as you say this. “I cannot. That does not mean that I am not beginning to trust you. If you are as serious about me, about us as you say you are, then I need you to listen to what I am about to tell you. I need you to understand.”

His expression softens, and he has to prevent himself from reaching out and grabbing your hand in his own. Still, he turns towards you, giving you his full and undivided attention.

“I understand.” His voice is low, eyes flitting over your every feature and committing this moment to memory for years to come. The way the sunlight dances across every inch of your figure makes you glow, a warmth flooding his veins the longer he stares at you.

“You continue to prove yourself to me every day that I know you,” you continue, a slight tremble to your voice. “I think it’s only fair you finally get to know some things about me in return.”

“Please, only tell me if you’re comfortable telling me.” He says, a hint of concern in his gaze. “If you’re not ready, don’t force yourself. I can wait.”

“See,” you smile reassuringly, but he’s unsure if it’s more for yourself or for him at the moment, “You just did it again.”

“Did what?” He blinks at you.

“Proved you’re ready to hear what I am about to say.” The corner of your lips twitch upwards, and Jongho notices a few fireflies beginning to float around the area, dancing lightly around your head.

A brief silence settles over the both of you as he waits for you to speak. That is, until you’re letting out a low sigh.

“These are not easy subjects for me to discuss with anyone. Only my closest friends know these specific details about me, so I apologize in advance if it takes me longer to voice certain thoughts over others right now.” You say, shifting your gaze out toward the setting sun. “The chat I had with your brother last night made me realize that it wouldn’t be so bad if you knew some things, too.”

“Take all the time you need,” he gently assures you, his fingers twitching lightly as he rests his palm in the grass between the two of you. “I’m right here.”

He notices you swallow thickly, your hands resting in your lap clinging onto one another as your fingers nervously wring together. This is the most anxious he’s ever seen you, and his heart aches not knowing what he can do to make it better. The urge to pull you into his arms and whisper sweet nothings into your ears is strong, but he holds himself back for now.

Taking a deep breath, your mouth parts, only to close a moment later. Then, you exhale through your nose, shutting your eyes briefly as you steel your nerves.

“I will start with the easier admissions first,” you begin, “But everything I admit to you this evening does not leave this clearing.”

“I would never betray your trust like that.” Jongho replies instantly, nothing but the deepest sincerity shining within his gaze.

A firm nod from you is all the confirmation he needs that you believe him.

Again, you sigh.

“I understand that you and your brothers perceive myself along the likes of the ancients.” You breathe. “You would be correct.”

Jongho blinks in shock.

“Though I am no ancient, I was raised by one.” You tell him. “My father is one of the oldest of the original dragons still alive to this day. Other than my Uncle Ken, of course. He has power unlike anything you could believe, and it has been ingrained in me to be as strong as he is ever since I was small.”

“My mother was a powerful witch.” A slight purse to your lips. “I never met her, for she died during childbirth. My father loved her deeply, and was devastated when he lost her. Every time he looked at me, all he could see was her face, and how he failed her.”

Jongho swallows thickly, already not liking where this seems to be going.

“My Uncle Ken raised me for the first ten years of my life. I thought he was my actual father for a time, for he always treated me better than my biological one.” You huff out a dry laugh. “My father couldn’t bear the grief that came with seeing me, so he gave me away to his best friend. It wasn’t until he learnt I could summon the same powers as my mother that he finally made his presence known in my life.”

The growl Jongho has to suppress nearly chokes him, a deep hatred already blooming in his chest for your father. How could anyone not want you, let alone your own flesh and blood?

“I thought he wanted nothing to do with me after I found out,” you scoff lightly. “Imagine a twelve year old finally being told the truth.”

He has to keep himself from shaking, but still, he remains quiet.

“My training started after that.” You lean back onto your hands, looking upwards into the darkening sky as those fireflies float lethargically around your head. “I was sent to survive on my own in the wilderness. I nearly died eleven times in the first week, were it not for my Uncle Ken.”

Jongho’s jaw clenches, biting his tongue before he says something he might come to regret.

“I was young, and I didn’t know anything about survival. Hell, I didn’t even know I was a dragon at this point yet. My Uncle wanted me to live as normally as possible for as long as I could before subjecting me to certain types of magic.” You swallow. “I learned everything there was about this earth before I was fifteen, and I knew how to wield every type of weapon by the time I was twenty.”

“You were a child.” He seethes, eyes swirling with a deep golden hue.

“I was a prodigy.” You finally turn to meet Jongho’s gaze. “After all, my father had a reputation to uphold.”

“That’s despicable,” Jongho’s frown is prominent, smoke escaping him with every exhale.

“The past is passed, Young One. I’m not going to change it now.” You sigh.

“That doesn’t mean what you went through is okay.” His chest heaves with every breath. “It doesn’t make it okay.”

“I know it doesn’t.” You nod in agreement. “Remember, I am telling you this so you can understand.”

Again, Jongho bites his tongue.

“My father was adamant on me learning physical defence before ever properly training my magic. He believed that my powers should only be used as a last resort since they could destroy anyone in the blink of an eye.” You go on to say. “I realize now he only trained me the way he did because he was always scared of what I could become.”

“Scared?” Jongho’s brow furrows.

“You see, Jongho,” you chuckle, “because of the anomaly my entire existence centres around, I am potentially even more powerful than my father.”

You swear he stops breathing.

Taking a deep breath, you sit back upright.

“Do you recall what I told you the last time we were both in this clearing?” You ask, not even bothering to spare him a glance out of the corner of your eyes. “About My Cubs?”

A brief memory flashes within his mind as he nods.

“I told you that my father ensured I could never have ones of my own.” You continue. “Do you know why that is?”

He shakes his head.

“Other than the fact that my own children could potentially be more powerful than me, my father has never gotten over my mother’s death. He has blamed me for it every moment of my existence.” You tell him. “However, that did not stop him from developing a twisted sense of love towards me. He took away my ability to have hatchlings of my own to ensure I never incurred the same fate as my mother. I am the last living attachment he has of her, so he will do whatever he can to ensure my safety now. It’s why my training only got harder after what happened with Daisy.”

A moment’s pause before Jongho asks, voice soft and barely above a whisper, “what happened with Daisy?”

The way you instantly curl in on yourself does not go unnoticed by him. Your hands grip at the sides of your cloak, pulling it tighter around your body as you look down for the moment.

“Are you familiar with the S’ber Hunters?” Your voice is much quieter than it was before, blinking blankly at the valley before you.

“The ones that are always hunting for the ancients?” He frowns, attempting to wrap his head around what they have to do with anything. “I’ve heard that they haven’t been seen on this side of the fjord for almost fifty years.”

“There’s a reason for that.” You shift your gaze to him, and he notices tears beginning to gather in the corners.

“What did they do?” His heart pounds, already fearing the worst.

Your lips purse for a good thirty seconds, chin beginning to wobble as you attempt to control your emotions. Only, the second you go to speak a choked sob tears from your throat.

“They took her.” Your voice is no more than a mere whisper, words strained as you take an unsteady breath in. “They killed My Daisy right in front of me.”

Your eyes squeeze shut as you cover your mouth with one of your hands. A vicious sob wracks your entire body, and Jongho instantly goes to place a comforting hand onto your back. Only, before he can so much as graze your skin, he stops himself.

Slowly, he shifts closer, reaching over to grab your free hand in his.

Any and every comfort he can, he will offer to you. Even through something as small as this, he wants you to know that he is here for you. You are not alone, and he will be with you every step of the way.

“They killed her for loving me.” Your voice is rough as you sniffle, wiping away your tears for the moment.

Yet, you do not pull your one hand away from his own.

“I had just-“ your breath hitches in your throat, more fireflies coming to float around the two of you as if to offer their silent support. A deep, shaky breath later, you continue, “I am sure you are aware of our marking rituals between imprinted.”

Jongho’s back straightens. “I am.”

“Her mark - my mark - was on full display when she went traversing through the village that day.” You close your eyes, as if the visions are coming back to haunt your memories once again. “They followed her home and ambushed us. I begged her to deny their accusations of loving me. They would have let her go free if she did.” Your eyes blink open, more tears spilling onto your cheeks as you force a strained smile onto your lips. “She didn’t.”

His expression falls, hand squeezing yours tightly as his heart absolutely aches for you.

“My Daisy fought up until the very end. She was so brave, yet I couldn’t save her,” a broken sob tears from your throat as your whole body begins to shake. “I was still so young, and so weak.”

“No-“

“I was.” You cut him off. “I had been neglecting my training, and I couldn’t sense them creeping in around us. They caught me with iron before I could react, and all I could do was watch as the love of my life bled out before me.”

Again, Jongho shifts closer, placing his one hand overtop of your own still held in his other.

“S’ber Hunters are ruthless. They kill anyone who associates with dragons, but they never kill the dragon.” You shake your head slightly. “No. They do something much worse.”

Sliding your hand from his grip, you meticulously roll up your sleeves. Extending your arms to him, you put your scars on full display. The light from the fireflies illuminate the faint lines raised in jagged peaks along your skin, the weight of those iron shackles still ever prominent despite them having long since been broken off.

Jongho’s eyes go wide, his chest rising and falling dramatically as he takes in the sight before him. Furious doesn’t even begin to describe him right now as he sees the scars lining your skin. Though, nothing could prepare him for the anger and guilt that he feels towards himself. How has he never noticed before?

Carefully, Jongho raises his hands to cup your forearms gently in his grip. His thumbs trace lightly over the raised tissue over your wrists, entire body trembling as he attempts to put a leash on his anger for the moment.

“I’ll kill them for touching you.” His voice is low, eyes the darkest you’ve ever seen from him.

You smile, somewhat tensely. “You’re a few hundred years too later.”

His gaze darts up to meet your own, his fingers tightening the slightest bit as he continues to hold your arms gently in his grip.

A moment of silence passes between you as he attempts to keep his whole body from trembling.

“How long?” Jongho cannot keep the fear out of his voice.

You manage to meet his gaze.

“Five hundred and two days.”

The way his eyes shine says it all. You can see the pain, the grief he holds for you. Yet, also the anger, and the concern, along with the growing need to comfort and protect you in every and any way that he can.

“It doesn’t matter what type of dragon you are. To them, we’re all the same.” Your voice is low, and you don’t realize how he grabs your hands back into his own. “To them, we all have connections to the ancients, and we all know where their nests are.”

There’s a part of him that wants to ask, but he’s scared. The thought of you telling him just what type of tortures you had to endure terrifies him because he wasn’t there to protect you. Knowing that you have suffered, and that he could do nothing about it, pains him more than you’ll ever know.

“The S’ber are smart.” You add. “Tell me, Jongho. How do you kill a dragon without taking away their life?”

He shakes his head, a single tear already beginning to trail down the side of his cheek.

“You go for their wings.”

The mere thought of what you had to endure suffocates his very soul. He clings onto you for dear life, squeezing your hands as an unbridled rage festers beneath his skin. This must be why you react so intensely whenever someone touches your back.

“Everyday they asked me where the nest was, and everyday I received a lash for not answering.” Your jaw begins to tremble. “They were smart, too. Keeping me locked up in the dark so I couldn’t tell what day it was, or how much time had passed. The only way I knew was through the lashings. Everyday they would add one to the tally, until they reached one hundred. Then, they would start all over. The scars littering my back still have never fully healed, and it took me years to be able to shift again. I honestly don’t even know what the state of my wings look like now. Not after-”

You cut your words short, lips clamping shut as if admitting to whatever you were about to is far worse than anything you’ve already said. He doesn’t push.

Instead, Jongho’s entire body trembles, golden eyes staring at you with nothing but concern on his features. Right now, comforting you is more important than any rage he feels festering within his soul. No wonder you keep yourself so guarded.

If he ever so much as catches a single whiff of one of these hunters, they’re dead.

“That wasn’t even the worst part, though.” Your eyes are blank as you stare at your hands. The way you can feel him looking at you has a tight smile pulling at your lips. “No, the worst part wasn’t the beatings. It wasn’t being in the dark, or not allowing myself to grieve for Daisy during all of that time. The worst part was knowing that I was alone. My father didn’t once come looking for me when I got captured. He immediately thought I was dead, and would have rather succumbed to his own grief than spare a hope I had survived somehow. It was My Neos who rescued me, but even they had some help.”

“Your own father didn’t even bother to look for you?” Jongho is this close to hunting this bastard down and frying him alive, ancient or not.

“No.” You shake your head. “It was my Uncle Ken that helped the Neos, and destroyed the S’ber hideout. There’s not but ash left. Ash and memory.”

Jongho’s eyes flash, his whole body stilling as realization washes over him. A second later, and each breath he begins to release boarders on a feral snarl.

“My brothers,” his eyes are wide, a crazed gleam shining within, “they compared you to the likes of them. They ruthlessly compared you to the people who hurt you the most without a second thought.”

His fangs elongate, the air spiking with electricity.

Jongho sees red.

“They didn’t know.” You reply, much calmer than anything he could ever expect. As if you’re used to this type of reaction from people.

“That’s still no fucking excuse for comparing you to those beasts.” He snarls, pulling away from you for a moment as his claws extend.

The last thing he wants is to hurt you, or to scare you away. You’ve already extended more trust to him this evening than he could have ever hoped for. Like hell is he going to damage that, or make you regret telling him all of this.

“You understand why My Neos and I react the way we do now?” You state, meeting his gaze which flashes with the heat of his fury. “Why that promise I made to My Daisy is so important to me? Why I do not allow true hunters into my village anymore?”

Jongho blinks, digging his claws into the dry earth beneath him to ground him for the moment. “I do.”

“Good.” You nod once, wiping at your lingering tears with the back of your hand. “Then, I have one final thing to tell you.”

You go on to tell him the exact same thing about the prophecy as you told Seonghwa last night. The way Jongho remains quiet through it all has you watching him carefully. Every minuscule movement of his brow, every twitch of his jaw, you see, gaze calculating and calm.

“I despise your father.” He spits, rather harshly as a scowl tugs at his features.

This causes you to chuckle. “You, me, and all of My Neos. I’m pretty sure my Uncle Ken has started resenting him a long time ago, too.”

“If I ever meet him, I’m going to kill him for what he put you through.” Jongho turns to meet your eyes, nothing but the deepest form of sincerity shining within his electric gaze.

“I haven’t seen my father in over twenty years, and I’d like to keep it that way.” You say, and you feel the faintest of touches brush over your cheek in comfort. For a moment, you believe it to be Daisy, so you think nothing of it to lean into such a touch. However, at the warmth you feel remaining pressed against your cheek, a thumb tenderly stroking over your skin, you realize that that is not the case.

“I am deeply sorry, My Light, that you have experienced such hardships, and that I have not been there to protect you from them.” His voice is low, cupping your face gently in the palm of his hand. “I swear to you that I will never let anything hurt you again. Not as long as I am here to watch over you. I will never go back on my promise. You mean too much to me.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Jongho.” You gently place your hand over his own on your cheek, and he thinks you’re about to pull it away. However, the moment your eyes flutter shut, you leaning even more into his touch, he knows that that’s not the case. “I cannot tell you what happened to me fifty years ago yet, for the wounds are still all too fresh in my heart. I cannot promise you that this will be easy, either.”

A lone firefly lands atop the back of your hand, the subtle glow illuminating the side of your face in the dark of the night.

“I have denied most, if not all dragons who have imprinted on me in that time because I could not bring myself to love again.” You admit, a single tear cascading down your cheek. He’s quick to wipe it away, holding his breath as he waits for you to continue. “However,” that single word has his heart stuttering with hope in his chest, “I am willing to try again.”

Jongho swears that he stops breathing. Your words have filled him with such an unbelievable sense of warmth that radiates outwards from his chest, flooding his veins with every breath he takes, that he cannot help but shed a few tears of his own. Nothing but pure and utter happiness sparks through his soul, his hands beginning to shake as he holds you in his embrace.

He doesn’t even realize that his tail has emerged until he physically draws you in closer to his body. The way your eyes widen the slightest bit, a faint amount of amusement dancing behind your orbs says it all.

He goes to retract his tail, cheeks warming beneath your gaze. “Sorry.”

You smile at him faintly, allowing your thumb to lightly trace over the back of his hand still cupping your cheek gently. “I don’t mind.”

Jongho freezes, your words washing over him. He can feel his heart leaping for joy inside his chest, his eyes searching your face for any hesitancy or uncertainty. When he finds none, he smiles.

His tail, which he had slowly been shifting away from your lower back is instantly around you once more. He pulls you closer to him, your one leg pressed right up against his own as the tip of his tail swishes happily over the skin of your one thigh. There is nothing more intimate to him than this moment, right here, right now, with you, and Jongho is going to revel in this euphoric feeling for as long as he can.

Again, he searches your gaze.

“Thank you,” he breathes, shifting impossibly closer, even if only the slightest bit. “For everything tonight. For trusting me with this. For giving me a chance to prove myself to you. For letting me love you, and continuing to let me love you despite it all.”

You opt to remain quiet for the moment, blinking at him lightly as you observe his every move. You don’t want to acknowledge how quickly your own heart is racing for the moment, but with each passing second, you find yourself melting even more into his touch.

Just what is this dragon doing to you?

“I won’t let you down.” He leans forward, resting his forehead against your own as a pleased rumble escapes his chest.

Jongho doesn’t even attempt to hide the way his hooded eyes continuously flick down to your lips. His tongue even darts out to wet his own, nuzzling the slightest bit against you as he draws you in closer with his tail.

“You are so beautiful,” his voice is a mere whisper, the ghost of his breath trailing against your lips with every word he speaks. A pleased rumble builds in his chest, “And strong.”

It’s almost as if he’s gone into a trance. A trance of which where all he can see is you.

“My Light,” he hums contently, “I do not wish to overstep,” he swallows, his throat bobbing with the movement, “but, please,” his eyes flick down to your lips once more before coming up to stare deeply into your eyes, “please, may I kiss you?”

Your own breath catches in your throat, and you cannot deny the way your heart skips a beat in your chest. It’s been so long since someone has asked you this, and you find that it feels just like the very first time with Daisy.

Softly, you smile. “You may.”

His lips are on yours without another moment of hesitation.

With everything that he is, Jongho pours his entire heart and soul into this kiss. He cups your cheeks gently with both of his hands, tail wrapped securely around your lower waist as he presses you against him. The way he can feel your own hands find purchase on his body has a pleased rumble building within his chest, tingles erupting beneath his skin wherever you touch.

All too soon, he pulls himself away, not wanting to overstep or make you uncomfortable. His eyes remain shut as he leans into you, pressing his forehead gently against your own once more.

“I love you, My Light.” Jongho breathes, golden eyes blinking open to stare deeply into your own.

The subtle pull of your lips upwards is nothing short of sweet, and the way he can hear your own heart racing inside of your chest has a warmth unlike any other spreading throughout his body.

Jongho is used to the feeling of electricity flowing beneath his skin, but nothing could have prepared him for what your touch, your kiss does to him. Now, he only craves more, but even he knows not to push you any further tonight than you’re willing to go.

“Thank you for waiting,” your own voice is soft, tone gentle as you shift slightly so that your body is leaning against his.

“Always.” He hums, grasping your hand in his once more and intertwining your fingers together.

A small silence settles over the both of you now, comfortable and warm. Fireflies begin to dance around the clearing and over your heads, twinkling like the stars above. Both of you are more than content to bask in the other’s presence for the moment.

The way you softly rest your head against his shoulder as you lean into him says it all.

412 notes · View notes

faithshouseofchaos · 1 month ago

Text

“Sunshine the Ghost whisperer” Simon ghost Rylie x Sunshine!OC!Reader

Part one of ?

Warnings none

Word count — 1659

Would you want to see a second part?

"Sunshine" was the name that the 414 had affectionately given you. To many of the men on the task force, your presence was a mystery. They couldn't fathom how someone like you had earned a spot among them, particularly Ghost. He was a man of stark contrasts—brash and unyielding, thriving in solitude. For him, the task force was a sanctuary, a place where emotional entanglements were non-existent. Here, he could navigate through challenges without the burdens of vulnerability, relishing the freedom of being hard-edged and unapproachable.

One evening, as the task force gathered after a long day, the atmosphere was filled with a mix of exhaustion and camaraderie. They sat around in a circle, their banter filling the air.

Gaz looked over at you, his curiosity piqued. "Hey, Sunshine," he began, a hint of teasing in his tone, "I've been wondering something about you."

You turned your gaze towards Gaz, a subtle smile playing on your lips.

"And what's that?" you asked, your voice as soft and soothing as a gentle breeze. Gaz chuckled, exchanging a glance with Soap, who sat beside him.

"Well, considering the nature of this task force," Gaz began, "I have to ask, how did someone like you end up here, among us? You're a medic, yeah, but your personality just seems..." His voice trailed off as if searching for the right words.

Soap grinned, leaning in slightly. "Yeah, you're like a ray of sunshine in the middle of a storm. It's kinda refreshing, to be honest." He chuckled, his eyes reflecting genuine warmth.

Soap eyebrows lifted. "Unexpected paths, huh?" He chuckled. "Don't leave us hanging. We're all ears."

Gaz nodded, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "Yeah, spill the beans, Sunshine. We've got time to kill."

You leaned back, your eyes taking on a thoughtful expression. "Alright, I suppose I can reveal a bit of my story."

Soap and Gaz leaned in, their attention focused on you. The flickering fire cast shadows on their faces, making their expressions even more eager.

"I started in the medical field, working in civilian hospitals. But one day, an opportunity arose through a friend." Your voice was calm, betraying no hint of past turmoil. "The 141 task force was looking for a medic, and my friend thought I'd be a good fit."

Gaz and Soap exchanged glances, surprised by the simplicity of the tale.

"Just like that?" Gaz asked, a hint of skepticism in his voice. "You were just recommended, and you joined?"

You chuckled softly. "Well, it's not quite as simple as that. I had to go through rigorous testing and training."

Soap leaned forward. "So, you're saying you're a legit badass, even though you look like sunshine and rainbows?" You smiled a hint of mischief in your eyes. "Looks can be deceiving, Soap. I have skills that come in handy in this line of work."

Gaz chuckled, nodding his head. "I'll say. The way you stitch up some of these guys, you'd think you have magic hands." Soap chimed in, a smirk on his face. "Yeah, you've probably seen more body parts than a butcher, and yet, somehow, you're always calm and composed. How do you keep it together?"

You let out a soft laugh. "It's a necessary skill to have in this profession. Panicking won't help anyone. Plus, I've seen my fair share of gory scenes. I've learned to compartmentalize and focus on the task at hand when it counts most."

Gaz nodded approvingly. "That explains why you're always the steady rock in the chaos of a mission."

Soap chimed in, his eyes sparkling with playfulness. "Yeah, but don't you ever freak out? I mean, you see some pretty messed-up stuff, and you just calmly patch us up like it's another day at the office."

You smiled, the corners of your eyes crinkling slightly. "Occasionally, yes, there are moments when I feel the weight of it all. But panicking won't help anyone."

Gaz chuckled. "See, that's what's so amazing about you. You keep your cool, even in the most stressful situations."

Soap leaned in. "Is that why you always seem to know how to calm Ghost down when he's in a mood?"

Your expression softened a hint of knowing in your eyes. "Ah, Ghost. I've learned his cues, his tells."

Soap chuckled. "Yeah, he's a surly bastard most of the time. But when you're around, he seems a bit more...tolerable."

You laughed softly. "I try my best. He's always so guarded, so serious. Someone has to break through that tough exterior."

Gaz chuckled. "And you're the designated 'Ghost whisperer' now?"

You laughed. "Well, someone has to keep him from brooding all the time."

Soap smirked. "Yeah, who else would be able to handle his brooding better than you, a ray of sunshine?"

You shrugged. "He's just misunderstood, I suppose. There's more to him than meets the eye."

Gaz raised an eyebrow. "More than brooding and scowling? I'm surprised."

Soap chuckled. "Maybe you should start a support group for dealing with the grumpy Lieutenant."

You laughed, your eyes sparkling with amusement. "Oh, I'm sure that'd go over well. A support group for dealing with the Lieutenant's bad mood."

Soap snickered. "I can already picture the bumper stickers: 'My friend is a grumpy Lieutenant' and 'I survived a grumpy Lieutenant's mood swing.'

Gaz joined in, chuckling. "And the t-shirts: 'I survived Ghost's glare' and 'Grumpy Lieutenant is my spirit animal.'

You laughed harder, your laughter mingling with Gaz and Soap's. It was a unique moment of lightheartedness amid their dangerous profession.

Soap smirked. "You know, maybe we should start charging for your 'Ghost-Whisperer' services. You could make a killing."

Gaz chuckled. "Yeah, we could make a fortune. 'Grumpy Lieutenant Mood Swing Pass: Buy one, get one free.' People would pay top dollar to avoid his scowls."

You grinned, the corners of your eyes crinkling. "And we could offer additional perks like 'Limited Edition Grumpy Lieutenant Scowl Merchandise' and 'Ghost-Proof Armor for Dealing with His Glares.'"

Soap chimed in, his eyes sparkling with humor. "Definitely. And maybe we could create a special 'Ghost Temper Tantrum Survival Kit,' complete with earplugs, stress balls, and a 'How to Deal with a Grumpy Lieutenant' manual."

You chuckled, leaning back and enjoying the banter. "Don't forget the special 'Ghost Snark Translator' app. Just input his grumpy comments, and it'll provide a friendly, sunshine-approved translation."

Gaz laughed. "And let's not forget the 'Ghost Appreciation Society' merchandise. We could sell badges and T-shirts with his surly face on them as a sign of support."

Soap added, "And for the premium package, we could offer 'One-on-One Therapy Sessions' where you charge people a fortune to listen to Ghost's grumpy rants." You shook your head, your laughter now turning into light giggles. "Oh man, we could make a killing with that. We'll have to start investing in grumpy Lieutenant-themed merchandise immediately." You shook your head, your laughter now turning into light giggles. "Oh man, we could make a killing with that. We'll have to start investing in grumpy Lieutenant-themed merchandise immediately."

While the three of you were laughing you didn’t notice the man in question had walked into the room and had heard your conversation.

The laughter died on your tongue as you felt a presence behind you. Turning around, your eyes landed on the tall, imposing figure of Lieutenant Ghost, glowering at you.

A moment of awkward silence passed before Soap broke into a sly grin. "Ah, speak of the devil. Look who's here, just in time to hear us plotting his grumpy business empire."

Ghost's dark eyes flicked to Soap, his glare becoming even more intense. He wasn't amused by the ongoing banter.

Gaz chuckled nervously, trying to diffuse the tension. "Er, Ghost, we were just having a bit of a laugh about..."

He trailed off, unsure how to finish the sentence without pissing off the Lieutenant further. But you, ever the calm and collected one, took a step forward. "Just a friendly conversation about the benefits of grumpiness, Lieutenant."

Ghost's gaze shifted to you, his glare softening slightly, but only slightly. He stayed silent, his arms crossed over his broad chest. Soap, fearless as ever, decided to chime in again. "Yeah, we were thinking of starting a line of grumpy merchandise. Maybe some 'Ghost Scowl T-shirts' or 'Lt. Grumpface Coffee Mugs.'"

Gaz winced, bracing himself for Ghost's reaction.

Ghost's eyes narrowed, and he huffed silently, his shoulders tensing. He didn’t appreciate the idea of his grumpy persona being turned into a merchandise line.

You stepped closer, your voice gentle but firm. "We're just teasing, Lieutenant. Don't take it too seriously." Ghost's gaze shifted to you again, his eyes locking onto yours. For a moment, he held your gaze, a flicker of something indecipherable passing through his dark eyes.

Finally, he spoke, his voice gruff and gruff. "I don't find it funny. I don't appreciate my mood being the subject of your mockery."

Soap, ever the jokester, tried to lighten the mood again. "Come on, Lieutenant, lighten up. We're just joking around. It's all love."

Gaz facepalmed internally, wondering when Soap would learn when to stop. Ghost's eyes narrowed further, and he took a step closer to Soap. "I have no patience for your jokes. You'd do well to remember that, Sergeant."

Gaz and Soap exchanged nervous glances, realizing they'd pushed it too far this time. You, sensing the tension escalating, quickly stepped between Ghost and Soap, your presence a calming influence.

You smiled gently at Ghost, trying to soothe his irritated mood. "It was just a harmless conversation, Lieutenant. No harm intended."

Ghost's gaze switched back to you, and he seemed to soften again, his shoulders relaxing slightly. He huffed silently, his eyes flicking between you, Soap, and Gaz.

For a moment, he looked like he was contemplating saying something, but then he simply grunted, "Hmph," and turned on his heel, striding out of the room without another word.

#task force 141 #tf 141 x reader #tf141 x you #cod mw x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost mw2 #ghost x gender neutral reader #ghost x reader #ghost x you

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hiraeth-sonder · 16 days ago

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DO NOT GO INTO THE FOREST AT 3AM (GONE WRONG) (SCARY)

Yandere! OC x Reader

Totally not clickbait, real found footage

TW: descriptions of dead bodies, implications of cannibalism, stalker-ish behaviour

// lmao i've written this exact plot like twice and its been posted twice but atp its tradition to rewrite it every year. What a guy am i right

꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧

Whenever the older folks of the village tell the children to always return by dawn, it is natural for a young mind to abide by such a rule. When the sun falls below the horizon and bathes the world in warmth as a final hurrah, the chill of night seeps past supple skin and the mists of the otherworld emerge to veil the living.

Any child would listen, for those who don’t are never seen again.

Or so they say.

It was nothing but a bunch of lies to anyone less green in the ears. But you believed it, of course you did.

Even as you approach near two decades of life, you believe it.

Your father said you were but up to his mid waist, unnaturally tall for the youngsters of your generation, when you had started the horrid night terrors.

It had been a cool summer night, settled into bed with thin cotton pyjamas hanging off your lacking shoulders, hair braided up and oiled. Your dinner for the day rested comfortably at the bottom of your stomach, leaving nothing but a satiety luring you to the world of dreaming. A light breeze drifted into your bedroom through the open window, and with it the earthy scent of wafting petrichor.

As you had been finishing the last of your assigned school work, a noise had deferred the stream of focus you had bore. Unlike your father’s humming nor the men’s hearty conversation, it was only distantly related to vocal call. Yet still, it was not your grandmother’s needles or the windchimes hanging off the porch roof.

A melodic chime of bells ringing so clearly from the forest just beyond your window, silver tinkling together in a pleasant array as the whispers of allure sit at the edges of your mind. Like a euphonious song for your ears only, no matter that your ears could not understand it, your soul could still appreciate such a beauty of talent.

Your feet had not been your own that night, rising from your seat as you left the glow of your flickering candle to gaze upon the forest of jade leaves and carnelian fruits. The lady of the moon casted her kindly sheen upon the earth, and with such a gift, one could only marvel at the manner in which light had seemed to reflect and exalt the natural favour of rain and soil. And it was within such a haven that your eyes caught the wisps of a lone flame dancing in the night.

It was a brilliant light, more brilliant than any star in the sky and it was as if your humble village had been made worthy.

Then, in less than a blink, the shapeless flame took form and sprung to life. Arms and legs extending as a head of starry glimmer blinks back at you. Waving and dancing, only for you.

A child told only to stay in but never why, never ever why, is more likely to leap than remain in the comfort of the familiar.

With nothing more than your pyjamas on your back and the dwindling candle hastily shoved into a lantern, you had leapt over the boundaries of your bedroom, the dew of wet grass tickling the soles of your feet as you chased after the wisp. As though smiling with glee, its starry head flickered as its illusory legs bounded into the verdant mystique. You could do nothing but follow.

Unceasing, your ears were filled with that honeyed song.

Amidst soft soil and quiet hum of wind, the forest of yore had seemed to come to life upon your entry. Bearing heavy plush fruit like gems, they hung weighty upon inky branches and hidden amongst leaves of nephrite jade, carved to picture perfect precision, each vein and wrinkle curling without flaw. The earth beneath your feet gave way, more akin to fine cushions than soil. Thick roots of gnarled age crawl into such soft land, creating a trail for your tender feet as the path of untouched splendour waited for you.

No matter the kind moon’s gaze, each being that lived within that forest radiated pure and utter vigour.

More of the wisps, starry children, accompanied the first and the singing rang around your ears, each of them crooning to you in the same silvery bliss, the same silver-toned voice. They danced along the trees, amidst the leaves and on the soft path, steps light and airy as if having never existed at all.

My dear, they laugh, you must step light and fair.

Laughing and singing, brighter than any star, clearer than any bell. That voice calls for you.

Foolishly, unregrettably, your tongue had tasted heaven that day. The children were drifting amidst the canopies, encircling those bright red fruit with such glee that you could not help yourself. It was only but a bite, but even a lick was enough. Nothing could possibly replicate the sheer euphoria that rushed through your veins, sweet juice seeping into every crevice of your mouth and coating your tongue, such soft skin and succulent flesh. Scarlet leaked from your mouth, stained your fingers and it was as though you could drink nothing but its syrupy sap for the rest of your days.

In the clearness of your youthful vision, those wisps of stars flickered, blinked as the song rose to a zenith. The bells of silvery elation, the song of dulcet elan, you never wanted it to end.

My dear, they titter, you drip of sweet nectar.

And it was your foolishness, your greed, that had let your eyes wander from your pathetic little candle, burned away into nothing but a puddle of sizzling wax at the bottom of your lantern.

You had not cared, what light did it provide when compared to the radiance of those starry children?

Deeper and deeper, the fruit heavier and sweeter, trees taller and hardier, and the night darker and quieter. No call of cicadas nor breeze of the wind, merely the chime of silver bells and the lilt of bosom song.

The children remain no less bright but yet the paradise of nature only grows leaden. Your steps faltered, and perhaps for the first time in the course of your youthful hubris, fear had seized your rabbit-like heart in its vicious maws.

It had been so dark, truly so dark. Your vision had been in its prime at such an age, and yet still you could not see more than a few fingers ahead. Those stars blinked and flickered, blinked and flickered. And yet still it had been so, so dark.

My dear, they coo, you must not fear the unknown.

You wanted to turn back, you should have turned back. It was cold, cotton could only do so much in the face of shivery distress. There was no warmth to be had from the children, no matter how much they flitted around your form, they were empty shells of lustre.

Still they sing. Their song of allure and glee teeters off to humming melody, still beckoning, still drawing you in despite the fear penetrating your bones. There is nothing to be frightful of. Dusk nor morn, the trees bear their fruit and the children sing.

My dear, they hum, you still have so long to go.

You listened, foolishly, you let the children lead you in further and further. Still soft soil gave way to your steps, wet beneath your soles, the heavy branches bumped against your head, yet weightlessly pushed away upon your proceed.

My dear, they whisper, you see me.

The starry children flickered and blinked. Wisps of stellar flames waving in the wind, and without even a hint of dissolution, soared beyond your narrow perspective.

As your eyes followed your only source of light, your nose was first hit with a harsh twang of metal, akin to the raw deposits of iron piled up by Mr Lee’s house. Dank and metallic, stinging the delicate flesh of your nostrils when another branch sways against your head.

The fruit is soft, fleshy. You looked up and upon the moon’s light, you had seen your delicacies for what they truly were. Dark branches of ink, draped in mutilant peers, hanging limply amongst the complex thorns of the trees. Leaking scarlet down their hands as your own stained crimson.

Ripping through your throat, you could only scream. What else could a child do when faced with such a sight? You screamed and screamed until even the concept of noise hurt your ears, clawing and tearing at your mouth for even thinking to breathe. Tendons cut and bones liquefied, your knees sank to the cold wet earth and it was there that you saw it.

A red thread tied tightly around the body’s ankle, the same string Mr. Lee’s son had on the day he disappeared into the forest. Roots twist and curl into his veins, wrapping around bloodless flesh to drink as you once did. Cold eyes like stars stare aimlessly at you, lips pry open to breathe.

Quietly, as if nothing more than a hint in the wind, he calls to you. Yet still, his voice– their voice– rings loud and clear, silvery bells and silver-toned lilts your very own personal song.

Though the night had been dark, the children listened to their master and it was upon that day you beheld the visage of the fiend.

Tall as the trees themselves, pale eyes blinked and flickered, peering from behind a veil of white hair like a river. Devoid of all lifeblood, pearly teeth reveal themselves between dark lips.

A hand extended towards you, sweet nectar tinge your tongue as a keen nail pressed into your tongue, no matter your weeping lips. Even as you had felt the grasp of your conscious slipping evermore from your fingers, it pressed deeper and deeper, honeyed sap flowing past your throat as it sang and cooed.

My dear, he sings, you belong here.

The elders find you in the morning, hands still stained and lips running crimson. Returned no longer than four days in your childhood house, your grandmother sends you away to the city to live amongst the ushering prosperity of modernity.

Yet still here you are. A portable lamp lit upon your old wooden desk with nothing but cotton pyjamas on your back.

The bells ring in your ear, silvery chimes accompany honeyed voice.

The children dance on the edges of your vision.

My dear, he smiles, you can never leave me.

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc #x reader #oc x reader

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hms-no-fun · 1 month ago

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What was it like going from writing Homestuck characters throughout Godfeels to your original characters? Was it intimidating after so much time spent with just the Homestuck cast? I believe Lenore was the first to appear in a minor role at first, but then you have the Moon war crew, the Halo's AI and Epigone all take center stage as villains (especially those last two), but I guess you could also argue June's headmates were kind of OCs? How was it writing them in the beginning compared to now?

honestly, i never found it particularly intimidating. when i started Godfeels, i never planned to write beyond John and Jade and Terezi because they were the only characters whose voices i had a handle on. as the series continued and became more of a full-cast affair, that was the most intimidating part. learning how to write a convincing Dirk or Jane or Roxy or even Rose. the key i think is that Homestuck characters are a collection of traits which express personality in a few key ways. this is true of all fiction but it's an explicit narrative mechanism in Homestuck proper. i used to talk a fair bit about narrative building blocks, the ways Homestuck is perfectly designed to train you in the act of remixing characters. like, if i said "Jade Lalonde" to you, you'd probably have a pretty clear idea of what that character looks like despite the fact that this character does not exist in Homestuck. this is the nature of HS's hyperflexible mythology. the hardest part was just learning how these characters speak and why, which required a lot of revisiting the original comic and a multitude of drafts, and i still don't think i really got them down until well into GF3.1. the intimidation mostly vanished once i felt like i could set these characters up in a room and let them play off each other without me having to pause every few minutes to question their authenticity.

honestly, bringing OCs into Godfeels felt pretty natural. i understood the existing cast and the world they existed well enough that it was easy to invent interesting oppositions. of course it helps that, going into 3.1, i knew we were always heading towards The Land of Many Unique New Guys. i wanted to do new things with the existing cast and break from the established patterns of the series, and that meant blowing shit up and changing the status quo. most of the fiction i've written in my life has been original, so really, once i gave myself permission to do so, inventing new guys was practically second nature. frankly, this setting (particularly with the EWL) is a guy factory, because it takes HS's hyperflexible mythology as a foundation and then metaphysically incorporates the existence of MSPFAs and fan sessions to expand the possibilities. Homestuck characters are equations whose variables are remarkably elastic, so it's quite natural to shuffle the old variables around and swap some out with new ones. i think it's fun trying to find a type of guy that we've never seen in Homestuck but that still feels like a Homestuck character. the OCs i've brought into the fold in GF3 aren't independent creations that i shoehorned into this universe-- they were designed for and with this universe.

and then yeah, i mean, going back to GF2 even before Risk and Dare entered the scene, June herself is functionally an OC because she's a fusion of June and Vriska. that's the entire conflict of the story, is that suddenly John's become June and she's a Vriska now. i used to joke that she was my self-insert until a handful of haters decided to canonize it and use that as an excuse to write Godfeels off entirely (which is probably for the best tbh). really, i just wanted to relitigate the Vriscourse through the lens of a human character, explore the appeal of having a Vriska-like grip on your own agency and the ways that might turn out to be destructive. the hard part was finding a realistic middle ground between John and Vriska. by the time we got to 3.1 and the plural arc really kicked off, doing the headmates almost came as a relief. i'm having a lot of fun writing Dare because they're kind of the first time in this story i've actually been able to write a straightforwardly John character. it all feels fairly natural since, like i said, the entire process is supported by Homestuck itself.

when it comes to the Upsilon kids, i was inspired by the Omega kids of HS2/HSBC fame. i originally planned GF3 to be a mirror of the post-canon project, and that meant responding to their OCs with my own. but i didn't want that response to be linear! i didn't want them to feel like Another Group Of Homestuck Kids, nor an obvious direct response to the Omegas. GF3 is about escaping your normal and learning to live among new people, so i was very deliberate in keeping the direct-relations to a minimum. i'm sick of everything being about the characters we already know. it makes sense for HS2/HSBC to have the Omegas be the descendants of the main cast, so i figured i'd let them have that. the closest direct response is Edie, who felt necessary not just for the existence of Yiffy, but also because of Kitty from Kittyquest and the various other alternate interpretations of Jade's daughter that followed. i like the idea of "Jade's daughter" being a uniquely responsive variable, someone who is paracanonically defined by the absence of singularity. then came Dana, modeled after Dirk precisely because of his antagonistic role in GF2. they're both parts of an ongoing conversation with Homestuck-- OCs yes, but not entirely original either. Lenore happened as a result of my involvement with Vast Error, which is actually a huge inspiration for GF3 in general for how it takes Homestuck's template and changes many of the rules without feeling fundamentally unstuck from that context. that their version of Sburb is called The Game and operates on an entire different yet somewhat familiar logic is what gave me the idea to explore the Universe Engine as a system of infinite variables that the EWL must directly respond to. it can be anything. it can have anyone. and because Repiton is existentially cut off from Homestuck, i liked the idea of Lenore being this lone escapee from VE's continuity who's totally unable to go back or learn anything about her home that she didn't already knew before she left. last to the party was Alphi, who needed to be a combo breaker. six-armed muppet dressed like a prep! just an entire alien. she's by far been the most difficult character to figure out, but doing so was part of what gave me confidence in the Upsilons conceptually. these four characters should not get along. they are diametrically opposed in many respects, in stark opposition to the other kid groups who typically enter the story already friendly.

so you can see, then, how the act of writing the Upsilons is also an act of commenting upon the Betas/Alphas/Omegas. i want to see what it takes to make four people who hate each other fall in love with each other. i want to see what rhymes and what opposes. the fundamental challenge hasn't changed-- it's the characterization. once i've found their voices, the rest follows on naturally. everything new in this story is built from the bones of what came before. that's the entire project, top to bottom. yes we're in a completely new setting with a bunch of new characters after obliterating the previous status quo, but it IS still Homestuck. the hardest part of selling all these new guys was simply developing the circumstances which allowed them to emerge. in my own head i've always seen the gargantuan wordcount of Chapter 8 as the necessary cost of fulfilling that ambition. hopefully now, with 3.2 A1 and B1 finally in the can, you can see for yourself how despite all that's changed, Godfeels is still having the same fundamental conversation today that it was in 2019. albeit with a few new arguments :)

#sarahposts #homestuck #godfeels #OCs #writing OCs #homestuck fanfic #longpost

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werezmastarbucks · 1 year ago

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kevin khatchadourian x female reader timeline of relationship

(actually, a story I am too lazy to write, but which is just clear and palpable in my head)

• you meet him three times

warnings: violence, manipulation, underage relationships (no grooming), mentions of dissecting frogs, abuse (duh), toxic relationship, unpleasant and traumatic first sex, the OC is kinda very, very human and stupid, exactly as a fifteen year old girl should be. School shooting obv. Also, it's ve-e-ery long, but I'm really not in the mood of writing a book here, so, it's just bullet points. Sorry.

author's note: yes! I watched We need to talk about Kevin around 2014, actually. It seems, considering the nature of this whole blog, I've always had the hots for the worst kind of guys. Enjoy my sublimation!

it was so long I had to divide it into two parts. second part

• you're at the same school, and Kevin is closed, brooding and completely antisocial. You constantly see him smile when there's a fight. He never participates in scuffles but seems to observe people; the other half of the time, he just doesn't care about his surrounding at all. Seemingly

• you've been raised to sympathize with the outcasts, reading all the right books and youself, not being the most popular, the smartest or the most beautiful

• at the biology class, you flat out refuse to dissect a frog. You can't stand the sight of dead animals, to say nothing about cutting them with a freaking knife. You close your eyes and shake your head aggressively, while the teacher is getting angry with your childish stubborness

• until you feel that someone is standing next to you. Kevin says 'she doesn't want to cut the frog' assertively, and takes it to his desk. He doesn't look at you a second, but it feels like a momentary salvation

• you're thinking of thanking him; that seems like a nice thing considering he's never talking to people, and always having lunch alone. He has this loner allure, the misunderstood poet, the lone wolf, if you will. You're fifteen.

• your friends tell you 'are you nuts? he's the cat in the bag'

• there are all kinds of rumors about Kevin; about strangling someone as a joke, and swearing, and watching gore.

• "I didn't do it for you", he smiles, like it's the most obvious thing in the world, and you misunderstood the incident so badly that it's funny and totally makes you look like an idiot. "I just like to dissect frogs". But he looks at you so intensely that it tells you something more.

• he never goes to PE

• Kevin is bullied from time to time; he doesn't really react to it, like the other children don't even exist. He never replies to nasty remarks, but just watches them, head tilted forward, like a dog ready to bite.

• you wonder why nobody else is worried about this gaze.

• sometimes you catch him watching you during classes as if he's contemplating something. You think yourself some kind of sacred redeemer, not less. You don't look away, you don't realize you're getting yourself into a swamp. You're fifteen

• at one occasion you tell Kevin he doesn't need to be alone all the time, and there are nice people at school who would accept him

• he just grins at everything you say

• the same guy who bullies Kevin the most acrtively, or is trying to, steals your folder containing some notes, your journal and you photo album. He doesn't admit it but laughs in a way that makes it clear

• you go to the teacher, to the principal, but the conversations do nothing to that guy. He's just a bully, just a dumb jock who has very little thought behind his forehead. You're worried; he might not know, but your personal diary is in that folder.

• you confront him with the fists swaying, to no avail

• the next morning, Kevin walks by your desk and throws the folder, complete with everything, in front of you. You watch his back, wondering when he had got it, and whether he had read your diary. One of the entires was about him, and it was embarrassing.

• "he's tall; taller than the other boys. His face is like milk, but he has this pitch-black hair and vampire stare thing going on. He is always quiet, just watches people. He's reeeeeally good-looking, but damn, Khatchadourian might just be nuts like people say"

• your friends wisely advise you not to get involved with him, but you feel so special all of a sudden

• you start fantasizing about being the only girl at school who managed to get through to him

• as you talk, he notices your desire to be special, and uses it. He observes you with your friends, focuses his laser attention on your grades, tries to get into what makes up your world.

• soon, he manages to make you feel like you really are the one person he reacts to. It is incredibly funny to him. He deems you fuckable.

• he's attacking someone in the yard. The guys from the parallel were getting the best out of Kevin, and rightfully so. This time he's had enough. When it's just talking, he didn't care, but physical assault, he couldn't tolerate, because that was crossing his personal borders. So, when one of the boys tried to steal his backpack, Kevin took out a razor he carried with him

• you try to stop the fight and get in between them just in time to shield the other boy, and Kevin slices your arm across

• the boys run away horrified, and Kevin just stands there, disappointed and dark.

• he evaluates the situation, sees that the cut is pretty deep, and watches the gushes of blood leaving your arm. The first seconds you're silent with shock; then it dies down, and you start feeling pain and yelp.

• he cuts off a piece of his shirt and bandages your arm tightly, saying nothing, just lasers you with his glance. The sight of this wound on you, not unlike his own scar, even in the same spot, accidentally. He finds it curious, invigorating. He watches the expression of physical pain on your face and brings you to the medic's office, saying "I sliced her". It feels good to say that.

• there's a conversation at the principal office. You're quiet, he's almost pleased with himself. His excuse is, I was going for another person ¯_(ツ)_/¯

• he gets away with it. You notice his dad dotes on him, and is absolutely blind to anything Kevin does. He buys the legend of 'I brought it for biology class, because I'm used to working with my own instruments' so easily it's astonishing.

• you don't speak for a while, and Kevin doesn't say sorry. He doesn't look guilty and is equally unimpressed that other students start to avoid him even more

• but his presence is like an oil stain, you can't avoid looking. You want to get to the bottom of him, you actively put yourself in this situation. You're fifteen, edgy, you have a crush on the sexy strange bad guy.

• you catch him after classes and tell him, whatever you're feeling, you don't have to. There are good people, that are worthy of your time. You don't mean yourself, but you're trying to make him defrost a little

• for some reason, the topic of feelings triggers him, and he does the thing he would repeat several times. He gets angry, standing right in your face, hovering over with his height. He puts his face as close as possible to yours and tries to make you pee yourself.

• "how the fuck would you know how I feel? What do you know about how I feel? Tell me, how can a person like you know anything about me?"

• he doesn't apologize for slicing you because he knows he didn't mean it, hense, there's no reason to say sorry. But he sees the prospect of playing with you, and he's so bored. So, he thinks about what a normal person would do in his place. ?

• once, you go to your locker and inside, find a little bunch of field flowers, neatly tied together with a yellow thread. No note, but somehow you have ideas what it means.

• you go on to a party in one of your classmates' house. You still rock a tight bandage on your arm. The party is good. You see Kevin and he looks at you like he wants to talk. You think, this is just like one of those vampire stories. You evade your watchful friends who think you dumb for playing a heroine from the Vampire Diaries. You need to grow up, they say

• you go outside in the terrace and sit down. You drink and ask why Kevin isn't drinking

• "I never drink. It dulls the concentration"

• you tell him that what he said sounds like 'I'm not like all of you idiots'. He confirms that's the gist of most of what he says. You ask if he considers you dumb, too. Biting his tongue, he avoids replying, saying that you're 'nice'

• you keep drinking, feeling the need to master up some bravery in his presence. For what, you don't know. Finally you ask him about how he feels, since he got so angry when you assumed

• surprisingly, Kevin says,

• "angry, bored most of the time. I guess it makes me angry how boring everything is. And dumb. Sitting there at school for six hours every day to do what exactly? It's like torture"

• it's a good thing he found a toy to play with.

• he tells you about his mother, and how she broke his arm when he was little, for shitting himself, on purpose. You talk about mums, and fathers, and how you don't have a very good relationship with your parents. Kevin finds it very interesting. You tell him how your mum mostly ignores your existence because she's more preoccupied with the shattering marriage with your dad, and your dad, finds you annoying and 'too girly'. He tells you about his little sister who is so annoying, and she constantly jumps around him and nags on him. You try to explain that a little girl sees that her brother is big, and strong, and pretty, and is forming a bond. He gives one of the worst performances, but it grills you

• "Pretty?" with a suggesting smile.

• you kiss, mostly because you're drunk, and you both think about each other's background.

• you think how tragic it is, that a boy like Kevin doesn't get the love from the person a child needs the most. Think about his mum, imagine her looking at baby Kevin with hatred and disgust. No wonder he is growing up to be this unapologetic, menacing, edgy guy who brings razor to school and takes it out on others.

• you're partially wrong

• Kevin thinks about how you have daddy issues and feel unloved, unneeded, mediocre

• although everybody at school knows that Kevin Khatchadourian had cut your arm in a violent fashion, the literature teacher pairs you for a half-year assignment. You're supposed to prepare a one-hundred pages analysis of the book of your choice, complete with the presentation.

• you're actually down to such tasks as you can ramble about your favorite books for ages, but you're not sure how it'll work out with Kevin. Casual friendship, if you can call it that, is strange and non-regular; sometimes he ignores you completely in the corridors, sometimes he starts talking about history, and awful things like Unit 731, out of nowhere.

• the first time you assembled to work on the paper was at the library, and it was pretty uneventuful; even boring a little. Kevin was not in the mood, and didn't talk much, and then, after an hour and a half said he was bored, and just left.

• you remembered the kiss from the party, but Kevin acted like nothing happened. Every time, though, when you almost decided he had played you, it was like he read your thoughts, and appeared to reinforce hope in you.

• he suggested you should go to his house at the weekend, and spend the day working on the paper. His family will be away as they usually do, so

• a gut feeling told you not to go, and you really listened to it, refusing the offer. Kevin smiled with his special smile that was like blood and honey, that was very difficult to resist

• "you think I'll do something awful to you?" "Will you?"

• he had a habit of speaking more with his eyes than with his mouth. One of the reasons you were so drawn to him was, he seemed adult, on the inside. Sometimes he said things you didn't expect to hear from a fifteen-year old.

• "Only if you ask".

• you skipped this weekend, and Kevin refused to go to the library, saying he had some things to do after school. But you were free to work on the project alone, of course.

• after a week more you caved in and agreed to go to his place. The whole week he was being uncharacteristically neat, friendly and pleasant. You saw him smile at teachers and even say hi to someone from class. You wondered if he had other friends you didn't know about.

• Kevin had a massive, cool home. Both his parents were rich, but you wouldn't tell it by looking at him act. You were amazed at the interior: artsy, light, with interesting living room and shapes on the walls. Kevin was bored, unimpressed by your interest. He was slacking, stretching time not to get to work that was clearly dull to him; he showed you the bathroom, and his parents bedroom (which made you uncomfortable). As he went downstairs to make tea that he almost forced you to have, you washed your hands in the bathroom on the second floor. Going down towards the stairs, you passed his room with the door open. A song you liked very much played on his computer. You wondered.

• on the wall, you saw the picture of the family. Kevin was smiling like the happiest boy ever, and it looked like a person from another world. His parents, blonde and dark-haired, were so different. The dad, whom Kevin described as 'the dumbest creature I've met', smiled carelessly, totally satisfied with the day. His mom, on the other hand, looked exhausted. The deep dark eyes, like Kevin's, didn't have half of demonic suggestion in them, but she looked weary. She smiled like a person who was wise, and had a death wish. His little sister 'that perfect little princess who never does anything wrong', whom Kevin clearly had very mixed feelings about, had only one eye.

• while having tea in the kitchen, you asked him about his sister.

• "Oh, yeah, it happened a while ago. She poured solvent into her own eye. Mum left the bottle on the table in the open". "Why would she do that?" you were horrified, painting a picture in your head. "Well, kids are dumb", he said so nonchalantly that it sent shivers down your spine. You could understand not liking a younger, more adored sibling, but talking about how they got a disability in such an unaffected way...

• Kevin added "I was there, with her. I called the ambulance. It was go-o-ory". And he smiled.

• you had the intention of working in the living room - light, spacious, with a broad sofa and a huge coffee table. Kevin insisted that he needed to work on his laptop and it was uncomfortable to bend over the little table. You needed to go to his bedroom. Eventually, you agreed, so now, you were sitting elbow to elbow at his desk, so close that you could feel the warmth of his body.

• the first thing you noticed about his room was how minimalistic and boring it was. Nothing on the walls, clean, tidy, impersonal. The only thing on display was a wooden bow, placed against the wall, and a stack of red-feathered arrows, beautiful, hanging above.

• "Wow, do you do archery?" He was unphased, like it was a totally usual hobby. "Yeah". Whatever tickles the rich people's bum, you thought.

• Fifteen minutes into project your phone lit up. Kevin asked who's messaging you and you said it was your common classmate, Paul, who is your good friend. Kevin knew your - your common - surrounding, so he knew that Paul was a good guy, and a good friend, and also had an innocent teenage crush on you.

• "Let me see", he grabbed the phone from your hand and stretched out his arm so that you wouldn't reach. It turned into a game. You both laughed, and giggled, as you tried to get to your phone. It was half-serious, playful 'hey, don't be a jerk!' and him, watching you reach for the phone helplessly. He then threw it on his bed and, as you raced after it, gave you a little push, and you fell.

• Kevin managed to create that feeling of comfort. As he landed next to you on his bed, he pretended not to see your unease. "Come on, let me see. You know I'm nosy". You sighed, deciding that there was nothing incriminating in messages between two friends. After all, there was nothing but memes and schedule discussion in your chat. Kevin scrolled it, giggling, discussing other classmates, and soon, you were snuggled against each other, talking about everything. You showed him your gallery on the phone and he grilled you for the insane amount of pictures of Damon Salvatore.

• "Come on. Come on now, you know they manufacture those dreamy characters specifically with the accordance to the desirable image for teenage girls. They cater specifically to you, and you buy it".

• "I know! But you haven't watched it".

• A long silence with growing smiles on both sides decided the destiny of that evening. You watched the show together, bonding, discussing, talking about how stupid everything is, and how the vampiric lore cannot possibly be depicted perfectly in any movie you've seen.

• he felt so normal, so human, so warm, that you were drunk on love. You felt safe, entertained, enfatuated. You thought to yourself that maybe, this whole thing about Kevin being different, and dangerous, was a front. After all, he had to protect himself, he hadn't gotten any love at home, and he didn't really know how to act around people. You felt appreciated, understood, wholesome.

• it was already dark when you've finished watching the sixth episode, and you were both a little sleepy. As the episode was over, the screen got darker, and you realized that there was barely any light. Kevin was silent beside you; you heard him breathe calmly, but you could tell he's looking at you. Like a snake aiming for your throat and waiting for the right moment.

• as you were about to say something to discharge the situation, your phone rang. It was your mum, checking on you, and you confessed you hadn't gone through with the paper at all. You explained how boring it was, and that the whole day, you drank tea, or talked, or watched the show. She laughed at it and told you not to stay the night. Maybe she did love you after all.

• "My mum", you explained, as the light from the phone died out, as well. "She's worried about you?" "Just checking". "Checking what?" You didn't find what to say here. "Doesn't your mum check on you when you're late and not home?" "No. Usually, I'm the threat".

• somehow, you were kissing. It felt exhilarating. Scary, amazing and fast. You didn't notice how twenty minutes have gone buy, completely taken by the intensity of it. I'm in his bed, you thought, and he's kissing me. The prettiest boy in school, and the most interesting. The rest were boring, you thought, and realized, this thing you had in common. You thought majority of people, even some of your friends, boring. Kevin was the only one who made you look.

• as he went for your thighs, you shivered. "I'm not ready". "Ready for what?" he asked, jokingly. Constantly dismissing your words, as if he always wanted you to speak clearly and not mumble behind the metaphors. "I'm scared, I'm a virgin". Kevin gave you a long look. "Who hurt you?" he immediately assumed there was some dark reason for your fright. Reality was, "Nobody. I'm fifteen, I'm afraid".

• you made him promise he won't force you to anything. Even the fact that you had to make him give you his word should've been a sign. Kissing him, and making out, was the best thing that happened to you the whole year though.

• Paul was strangely cold, even rude to you the last days. Every time you tried to bring up something funny to him, he dismissed you and made himself scarce almost instantly. You could feel, although Kevin didn't openly follow you, that he watched you, like before. Sometimes you had the urge to ask him the banal 'what are we?'

• you approached him in between classes to ask what he's done to Paul.

• he wouldn't tell you 'I confronted him in the bathroom and put my razor right to his throat, making him understand who you belong to; I pushed it so hard it actually left a mark on his Adam's apple. Must have hurt. He looked like a scared puppy. I told him not to text you anymore and not to look in your direction. He ran so fast you could tell he would be a great cast for the Flash'

• he said, "Oh, I spoke to him. You were clearly annoyed by his advances, or was I wrong?" You were annoyed when you talked about it at his place. You lamented your friendship and said you found it irritateing that every guy you were actively friends with, started to fall for you.

• you didn't believe he just 'spoke' to him. You tried to call for the good in him again, but when it didn't work, decided to threat.

• "Don't do the things you'll regret later, Kevin". You tried to walk away, but he put himself between you and the whole world, hovering again, his face as close as possible. His eyes, the eyes of a snake, cold, black, menacing, asked you.

• "What things?" "You know what I'm talking about". "No, I don't. Say it". He dared you. You wanted to say 'violent things'. You remembered his face, full of cold rage, as he swung the razor at that guy in the yard. You looked at his face now, changed from the peaceful everyday mask he always wore, and suddenly it hit you. He was psychopathic. There was no other way he would be so unaffected by things, then jumping into sudden fury, then pleasant and sociable the next moment. He could stand like this for hours, it seemed, burning you down with his trying stare as if he was forcing you to show what you're worth.

• your friend broke this intense exchange by exclaiming, "wow. Get a room?" her voice was casually laughing, like, ha-ha, I'm mocking a PDA. But when you looked at her, her face was expressing concern. Her eyes didn't laugh and were fixed on you. Kevin slowly focused on her with a slight smile and then walked away, saying nothing.

• he stalked you, although you didn't know about it. Listened to your conversations, hiding in the bathroom, and stole your phone for a lesson, and then returned it into your tote bag, making you think you're absent-minded. You were entertainment to him, a goal to reach, with no prizes. He was deciding what to do with you after, in spring.

• the other weekend that you spent working on paper, the Khatchadourian house was full. The previous one, his mum and his sister were away in the countryside, and his dad worked. Now the whole family was at home, and Kevin wasn't really happy.

• his mom was excessively happy to see you, shaking your hand, and giving you a motherly hug. You read in her face that she was glad that her son was socialising.

• his dad was a big booming guy with the lumberjack energy.

• his little sister was a little angel: silky pearl hair, nice little face, only one eye. She was airy, happy, unspoiled. She was everything Kevin wasn't. He stood at the top of the stairs as his stunningly normal family swarmed you. His sister was looking at you curiously, considering the new concept: his brother's friend. She has never encountered that before. You took her little hand and something horrible stung your temples, almost like a vision. Kevin smiling with his absent, self-pleasing smile as she was on the kitchen floor, her eye bubbling, sizzling, blood and goo coming out.

• Kevin lost his patience and ran downstairs, took your hand and led you away from them, giving his mum a certain look. He refused to be served lemonade, and snacks, he just wanted to be left alone with you.

• as you entered the room, he locked the door, and you started making out immediately. The thought of his parents at home made him almost blind with excitement.

• you collapsed on the bed, kissing, rubbing against each other, panting. You were very wet, for the first time in your life for a real person. It was exalting, to desire something so much and get it immediately, to be desired back.

• he caresses the scar on your arm and kisses it. You take it as his way to finally say sorry.

• you don't know that he's never felt sorry, for anything, in his life. That he's calculating, cold, that he is only happy when it's physical satisfaction because all other is imitation. He's like a robot and he feels like a robot. To try to feel something, he used to watch the hardest porn he could find, the trashiest, goriest movies, he watched the nsfw news where the pieces of humans, chunks of meat and bones, were shown; he went to the dark web and watched snuff, and it made him feel nothing. The closest to happiness he felt when he was mildly entertained or cumming; and you were entertaining, for all the possible things he could do to you; and you almost let him cum.

• but you weren't ready for sex yet and, remembering the word he had given to you, he backed up. Building the tension was good for the eventual climax, and he would break you, he knew that, by the way you whimpered when he rubbed against you and kissed your neck.

• you finally had sex at the party once. Closer to spring, when the spirits were lifted. You snuck away from your friends who have half-way accepted that you were spending time with Kevin. You went upstairs and locked yourselves in someone's bedroom; you had been drinking for bravery because you knew what was coming. You wanted it, but you didn't know what to expect; maybe Kevin had a dragon in his pants for all you knew.

• he wasn't soft, but he was cutting the pain short. He made you feel hurt and kissed you tenderly the next second not to let you retaliate. At first, you just had to whitstand the pain, thinking it was normal. That's how it happens for the first time: the feeling of something tearing, and blood, and razor sharp pain. You were very aroused and very drunk, so even the pain ceased soon, and it was actually almost good.

• you went to the bathroom to clean yourself and cried, you didn't know why. Not like you now were a different person. You emerged, talking about the sad state of your makeup, and the room was empty.

• Kevin was downstairs chatting with a girl you didn't know, and when you tugged on his sleeve, he gave you a blind look, like he was seeing you for the first time. He was done with you, the look said. He didn't even smile anymore; he just looked tired, like you intervened in a mildly entertaining experience.

• for the rest of the month you were crushed. You didn't talk about it with friends: in fact, you lied to them that you had an argument with Kevin and never had sex. You were so ashamed to be a victim of such a simple, banal, everyday scam. You were now seeing him for what he was. Just a guy with the looks who was bored.

• you completely forgot about the project, it just came to a halt by itself

• you started alienating yourself from your friends, which wasn't too hard

• you started having lunch alone, and going to classes alone, too.

• you spent a lot of time thinking about the damn dress you wore at a party, as if it was the root of all evil that happened

• you were wallowing in the feeling of betrayal, the impotent desire to crash his face with a hammer. You were brokenhearted, being dragged down from the heavens of being special right to the pits of being played.

• after weeks of mourning your naivity, and your pure feelings for him, your past wish to awaken something good in Kevin, you felt so idiotic, perhaps even more idiotic than the stupidest person in this school. You were a laughing stock for your own self. Your pride was crushed, and your heart was broken.

• eventually you thought, well, it's schooltime. A lot of girls experience this. Maybe in fifteen years' time it will all seem like a minor failure and a useful lesson.

• right? In fifteen years?

• in the beginning of May, Kevin suddenly sat at your table at the closing of lunch. After weeks of literally no communication, dismissive, slightly surprised glances when you happened to be in his eye sight spot, he suddenly reappeared.

• "You didn't tell your friends even? Will you let me get away with it after all?"

• you looked at his face drawn with curiosity and laughter. He was laughing at you. His boyish, demonic beauty was now poisoned with the ugliness of his insides. Earlier, he was like a rare animal from the northern mountains, that was so evasive it seemed like treasure. He was mysterious, impeccable. Too good for you. Now, it was the handsomness of a used mannequin, with the paint faded. Too much blood in the smile.

• "What do you want, Kevin?"

• it's been moments after a short exchange that you felt rage in you. The rage you've been fostering this whole month. You stood up from the table and swung your arm with enthusiasm, and then landed your closed fist on his cheekbone.

• Kevin's reaction was slow, horrifying. In his eyes, you saw the immediate danger to your whole life. He didn't say anything as he rose from the chair, and you noticed his eyes scanning the yard. What if someone witnessed the punch?

• you tried to hit him again, on the shoulder, but he caught your hand, and suddenly, crushing pain sliced through your wrist. He was much stronger than you.

• this time, he approached you so decisively that for a second your only instinct was to fly, but your hand was caught up in his fist. Really, you got scared of him.

• "Never do that again", he said, as his hand took you by the back of your neck. He tilted your head back to look straight into your face, and all the possible trauma made you see the allure again. Yes, he was still laughably attractive, without even trying. He was just a walking trap, and all of your good intentions for him had just been horny.

• "Or I will snap your neck and forget about you in a second".

• the punch was good; a scarlett spot was forming on the side of his face. You were afraid to move because you could feel your wrist on the point of breaking. Such sharp pain, the third time in nine months, and the source of it, again, was Kevin.

• "Say you're sorry"

• "I'm sorry", you whimpered, "that you're such a monster who's unable to love, Kevin".

• you got ready to deal with the broken wrist and closed your eyes, expecting anything. He let go of you. "Love is a big word for you".

• you didn't know how jealous he was of Damon Salvatore.

• as the school year was drawing to an end, the school team started rehearsing

• the rehearsals were always fun; although you never even thought of getting into the cheerleaders, and you had exactly the amount of interest in basketball to understand what's going on.

• it was fun because the team consisted of all the people you knew; there was a lot of students you had good relationship with; the cheerleaders were all very easy going girls, and beautiful, at that. It wasn't like in the Mean Girls.

• and the spectators always brought pizza, or some snacks, to entertain themselves during the long, repetitive rehearsals. You liked to visit them because it was better than hanging out at home with your dysfunctional family.

• the last rehearsals were held in the evening of the 8th of April.

• as you sat there, you vaguely remembered, randomly, that it was to be Kevin's birthday soon; maybe in a week, or less. You pretended not to care, pretended to yourself.

• closer to the end of rehearsal, as people started leaving, your best friend, the one who was concerned about Kevin and even put herself in the position between you, said that her boyfriend had messaged her. She had to leave. You said goodbye and decided to wait for the end. Looking at the girls was mesmerizing; the way they did the combinations and screamed the chants. You thought it was very cool to be a cheerleader; but you weren't tall, or nimble, or beautiful enough.

• the main door was locked from the outside; probably the strings have gone bad again, and the entrance has been deemed a no go. So, your friend circled around the hall a little, tugging the doors with surprise. Finally, she found one working exit and left. As she was leaving, Khatchadourian walked into her, or rather, they ran into each other.

• "Leaving already?" he asked, with a smile. She said nothing and walked away.

• Kevin locked the door behind her. She turned around, puzzled, because her brain hadn't registered at once that Kevin was carrying a stack of arrows with him.

• As he started shooting his classmates, the swarm of people was lifted up, like an avalanche, and started making it for the entrance. The doors were locked. He repositioned, climbing up the spectator's rows, and finally had the perfect spot. From above, in the bunch of people, he saw you.

• you wondered, as all the noise left your brain, and the pale circles started pulsating in your eyes, why you didn't know earlier.

• in the moments he was swinging for someone's throat, or when he was threatening you, or when his face dropped the smile by the snap of the fingers. How do you even foresee something like that?

• you watched his face, a grimace of hatred, not indifferent anymore. He was aiming with his bare teeth, wallowing in every cry of the people he shot; the sound of arrows was almost comforting, whistling around like a seagull that passes over you quietly. Among the roar of the hall, the sound of arrows was so calming and so loud.

• you tried to group yourself, to make yourself smaller, because there were actually very few people left; seven or nine, in fact. But there was nowhere to run. Macey Walken, who ran for the side entrance, got a scarlet arrow into her back, and fell suddenly as if something pulled her. You looked at the floor, into a pool of someone's blood. Kevin was walking down carefully, between the seats, sending the arrows with accurate aim. He didn't even look like a human anymore; it was hard to describe him.

• he neutralized the three teachers first, then went for the students. Paul died in the other side of the hall in his purple and gold uniform. The cheerleader girls were running in circles, in zigzags, clearly entertaining him, moving targets. Kevin now almost approached the last group of five people, where you sat on the floor, numb with scream that never left your mouth, your legs paralyzed completely. He was killing you all one by one, from left to right. Ben, Mary, Meredith. Finally, the bow and arrow were turned towards you, mechanically.

• Kevin pulled the string and then relaxed it, keeping the arrow to himself, and moved on.

• you did manage to become the special girl after all.

#ezra miller imagine #we need to talk about kevin #kevin khatchadourian #kevin khatchadourian imagine

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