#i had so many ideas about this and i needed someone to write it so... i did it
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one time there was a bomb threat at my college and the sniffer dog false alerted near my dorm building (and another one) and so, rudely, at 10pm on a Tuesday they shepherd at least 1000 young adults between both dorm complexes,first to an open field and then to the gym when they realized they need the field for staging police and the news. great. ok. So. It's going on 11pm on a Tuesday night and you have unexpectedly been dropped in the gym, no one thought they were going to be out long because the way we were evacuated was via the fire alarm and like, its probably a fire drill right. So what do you do in the gym when you weren't expecting to go to the gym. It's not like many people were in the mood to be actually exercising. I happened to be playing my switch when the alarm went off, so I had entertainment, but the battery was not going to be lasting the full time because, none of us knew it, but we would not be cleared to leave until 1am. So we started playing with an elliptical. Because it said you could play youtube. so we started putting on youtube videos on the elliptical, but someone had to like, mildly use the elliptical or else the video would turn off. Then someone started complaining about the assignment they had due the next day they were working on. And someone had the brilliant idea. This thing is hooked up to the internet, you were writing the paper on google docs, right? Anyways within 5 minutes we had commandeered a second elliptical and he was attempting to do more work on his assignment on Google Docs on the elliptical machine. I don't remember that going well for him.
accidentally hit something on the treadmill at my gym and it opened a web browser??
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How would Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, and even Ace feel when they see their S/O wearing their clothes for the first time in the beginning of their relationship, like a shirt or a hat (if Luffy and Ace allow their s/o to wear it?)
S/O wearing their clothes for the first time - Luffy, Sanji, & Ace
Content: fluffy established relationship moments, they love you! Sanji is a perv but lovingly <3
Notes* hiiii so I can only do up to 3 characters in a request, and after thought I decided to go with these three :) I love Zoro but I couldn’t figure out what article of clothing to write about, so maybe part 2??
Luffy
If it were someone he didn’t know or wasn’t close to, Luffy would immediately feel like they were invading his personal space and demand that hat right back
Even with other crewmates, he only really lets Nami touch his hat and that’s only if need be
But when it comes to you, it’s different
He knows you’ll respect and keep it safe, but it’s a hard feeling to explain. He would trust his whole crew with his hat if need be, but he only wants you to have it
He doesn’t really understand the feeling, he just likes seeing you in it sometimes
Since his hat is so important to him, seeing his partner wear it would make him feel extremely happy that they recognize its meaning
It also solidifies the idea in his head that you’ll be at his side when he becomes the pirate king
For Luffy, love is about sharing his adventures and dreams. Seeing that hat on your head is the loudest declaration of love that he could ever know
Sanji
Sanji doesn’t have very many comfy clothes and he doesn’t have a hat you can wear, but there’s something about wearing his dress shirts to bed that’s extremely comfortable
Maybe it’s because they smell like his cologne, or because they’re baggy on you, but you always steal a clean one to shirt in
He loves it.
He always ends up with a nosebleed when he sees your sleepy face in nothing but his shirt, draping past your thighs with just a small pair of shorts on under them
That view of your legs, how his shirt swallows you up
You could practically see the steam coming out of his nose while his face turns bright red, heated by the blush in his cheeks
He will definitely say a few pervy things without shame and Nami would probably have to shut him up
Ace
Ace is the one who puts the hat on your head more than you taking it to do so
He likes seeing you in something of his, and his hat is the one thing that he doesn’t mind sharing at all
If you can ignore the sweaty smell, you’re good. His Devil Fruit doesn’t help with that, being hot all the time and all
He makes a show out of it whenever he needs to protect you from anyone by taking off his hat and placing it on your head before diving into a fight
He’s had that hat ever since he set off, and he intends to wear it until the end of his journey. Seeing you in it as well just adds to his growing memories that he’s going to make along his journey
He doesn’t like it when you wear your own hats or hair pieces because he wants your head to be free just in case he feels the need to see you in his hat
It’s a symbol of their strong connection, and that you are truly part of his life, not just a passing moment
#one piece#hwop#harleywritesop#luffy x reader#one piece luffy#straw hat luffy#monkey d. luffy#monkey d luffy#sanji x reader#op sanji#one piece sanji#black leg sanji#vinsmoke sanji#ace op#one piece ace#ace one piece#fire fist ace#portgas d ace
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୨・──── 𝙏𝙀𝙇𝙇 𝙈𝙀 𝙄’𝙈 𝘼 𝙇𝙄𝙏𝙏𝙇𝙀 𝘼𝙉𝙂𝙀𝙇, 𝙎𝙒𝙀𝙀𝙏𝙃𝙀𝘼𝙍𝙏 𝙊𝙁 𝙔𝙊𝙐𝙍 𝘾𝙄𝙏𝙔 ────・୧
pairing ⸺ satoru gojo x reader
teaser ⸺ as a child, you were taken in by the powerful gojo clan and raised alongside their heir, gojo satoru — but never as his sibling. now, at an elite school, your fragile bond is tested when an actual noble woman enters the picture, bringing in a marriage proposal.
content ⸺ fluff, reader is an academic achiever and has a good handwriting, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, cliff hanger ending, human auctions, implied slavery, jealousy, implied torture, shoko talks about using medical tools for torture (lol), blood, implied abuse, implied grape (not at reader), magic!au, historic!au, the ages of reader and gojo throughout the story: 3, 10, 12, 15, 17
count ⸺ 22k
author’s note ⸺ thank you to everyone for waiting patiently! this is just the part one, i hope it does well to give me enough motivation to write a part two. i have so soo many ideas i’m hoping to incorporate. this fic will be updated on ao3 and wattpad soon and will be linked below.
🎧 ao3 wattpad
You sat next to the man, bowing deeply with him at some figure you couldn’t care less about. It had to be someone important obviously, and you knew now was the time you were going to get kicked out of a place for the tenth time in your life, unwittingly dragging this poor man with you as well. He had seemed kind enough when he had bought you off at that auction.
He wasn’t anything like you had feared. You had met other girls bonding with each other inside the cage; girls older and prettier than you, getting sold off one by one to old and creepy men who looked like they couldn’t keep it in their pants. You had dreaded meeting the same fate as them. That was, until the man who kept increasing his offer for you looked younger and stronger.
He was probably like one of those army officers you had seen at your mother’s house, who would stand guard outside your small room each night she and her happy family went out to lavish parties, to make sure you didn’t escape. Well, even if you did, you thought that was what they would have wanted, but they kept saying that they didn’t want anyone noticing your existence. Not that they didn’t have a good reason.
In your mind, you had hoped the man would win, and when he had, the triumphant look on his face made you sigh in relief; at least now you were sure you wouldn’t be used as a hole for life. But were you, though? Because the thoughts kept creeping back; the looks on the other girls’ faces when they were taken away by their new masters. But the mysterious man had made you sit on his pretty horse, taking you somewhere, away from the horrifying auctions that represented the worst atrocities made by humans.
You peered from under your hands, still in your bowing position. The person had now risen. He had dark hair and vivid blue eyes. He seemed to peer at you in as much curiosity as you were at him. That was, until a crisp voice had cut through the silence, knocking you out of your bow when it addressed your saviour to “pack his things and leave”.
“I understand, madam,” he said smoothly, getting up to leave, not before giving another curt nod. Then he turned to you. “This is where my job ends, little one. You’ll be much happier here,” he whispered, nodding at you and standing up. You almost wanted to stop him before you remembered you were told several times that you didn’t possess any human emotions. So you watched him leave, wondering how he was so sure this wouldn’t be another one of your previous houses.
“As for the child,” you snapped your head back to the dark-haired man in front of you who seemed to be giving commands, “we must decide which family keeps her. From the looks of it, she needs to be tended to,” he eyed your wounds from previous struggles you wished to forget about.
You stared at the people he was questioning, and they all looked away. This seemed like a meeting room, and the people were lined up sitting parallel to each other. Some were glaring at you like you had come to raid their houses, fuck their wives and drink their blood. None of them seemed to realize you were only a child of ten. Nervous under all the gazes, you wished to find another person you could bow to, just to avoid all the staring you were receiving.
“We will,” said the same voice you had heard earlier, and you finally looked at its source.
She had long, white hair that seemed to reach till the floor. Her eyes were light, and she looked pretty. She had a cold look on her face that made her seem frightening, though, and that was probably why you saw that none of the others could even muster enough courage to look at her eyes when she said those words.
“Well, it’s decided then,” the man said in a final tone, as if he had only bargained about the price of a few watermelons from his local vendor. “Love, if you will.”
Love? Oh, maybe they were married.
The woman stood up and everyone bowed at her again. You were about to sink back into the position before she crouched down in front of you, caressing your hair with a touch that made you look back at her.
“Come with me, daughter.”
──── ୨ৎ ────
“I have a sister now?” “Shh, and don’t call her that. I’ve already told you, she’s not your sister—”
“Does she know how to ride horses?” “Do you ever do anything else?”
“She should know how to ride horses.” “You can teach her.”
“Oh, wow, really?”
You scrambled away from the door at the sounds of footsteps returning and sunk back into the expensive bed the woman had had prepared for you. The ‘woman’ who asked you to call her ‘mom’, somehow losing the twinkle in her eye when commanding maids around, which she seemed to regain every time you spoke something.
You knew it was a trap though. If she really ‘adopted’ you and wanted you to call her ‘mom’, wouldn’t that mean you were the sister to whatever child she already had? Yet here you were, all cleaned up and changed, almost believing the charade before realizing the child was being advised not to consider you as their sister.
You bit your lip, trying not to cry. At least you weren’t at your old house thinking of ways to poison your family, or in that cage counting down for when it was your turn, or lying dead in some creep’s backyard. Maybe you could enjoy this while it lasted.
“May I come in?” A polite, boyish voice rang out from behind your door. A hushed whisper of an older woman seemed to reprimand him for not knocking, and the two started to argue.
“Yes?” You didn’t quite know how to respond professionally to the request, so your answer came off more as a question. You sure hoped the man wouldn’t scold you for your manners as well.
A boy stepped forward, and you immediately knew he was the son of the two clan leaders. Not because of his clothes, but because of his face. He had the same white hair as his mother, and the blue eyes he got from his father. Maybe blue eyes were a thing of the clan?
“Hi,” he said awkwardly, and the door closed behind him. “Mother sent me here for ‘bonding time’.” You kept staring at him, not realizing you were staring. He looked up at you and flushed. Only then did you realize, chuckling awkwardly and scratching your wrists, trying to get used to the expensive scents the maids had covered you with.
“Can I… uh,” he trailed off, staring at you, and you blinked back at him, not knowing what he was going to say.
“...sit on the bed?” You offered, and he raised an eyebrow before climbing on it, sitting in the most formal position you had ever seen.
“Do you like horse riding?” “What?”
He flushed even more. “Mother said we should ask each other questions to get to know the other better.”
“Oh.” “Yeah.”
There was another silence.
“So it’s my turn to ask a question now?” You asked. “Yeah.”
“Do you like potatoes?”
“What?” He processed your question for a solid five seconds before bursting into laughter. You kept staring at him as if he was stupid. Did you say something stupid?
“I like you!” He said in between giggles, his old formal, uptight position long lost. It was your turn to flush now. No one had ever said they even wanted you alive, let alone say that. Well, no one except for three people in the past few hours, and now this guy. You had a feeling you might prefer this over anything else for now.
──── ୨ৎ ────
The soft hum of celebration still lingered in the air. Lanterns flickered outside glowing warmly across your room. You sat on the edge of your bed, staring at the wrapped gifts and trinkets the Gojo family had insisted on presenting you earlier. It had been strange, the idea of sharing a birthday with Satoru. You didn’t even know your real birthday, so his — no — your mother announced it would be shared.
Satoru had, of course, embraced the attention, dragging you along with him to cut the massive cake. You had never seen anything like this before, and it might have shown on your face, because he had held your wrist tightly as if annoyed you were taking so long, and cut the cake with you. That was what made it impossible to shun the feelings of belongingness.
Now, the house was quiet, and the festivities had faded. But just as you were about to pull the covers over yourself, the faint sound of your door creaking open made you pause.
“Hey,” Satoru’s voice whispered, followed by the soft padding of his feet. You turned your head to see him, still in the formal robes mother had fussed over earlier, though they were now slightly askew. His hair was a mess, his face flushed from excitement — or maybe all the sweets he’d devoured.
“Should you not knock?” you asked, folding your arms. You inwardly cringed at the noble accent you had unknowingly adopted from the Gojo family. “And what are you doing here?”
“Escaping,” he said, as if that explained everything. He plopped down without invitation beside you on the bed, leaning back on his hands and gazing at the ceiling. “Mother’s got the maids cleaning up. I was bored. Figured you’d be awake.”
You rolled your eyes, but he caught the faint smile tugging at your lips. “You’re going to get us in trouble. Again.”
“What’s the point of having a birthday if you can’t even cause some trouble now?” He shot you a grin, then leaned closer to the window. “Let’s go outside.”
“What? No.” “Please, please, pretty please?”
“I am not letting my first birthday become my death day,” you scoffed at him. Taking one look at the pout on his face, which seemed to stretch all the way down to his neck, you sighed, and he knew he won. “Fine. But we’re only looking outside.”
“What!? But what’s the fun in that?” “Then go alone.”
He pouted again, but you merely looked away trying to shield yourself from his cuteness. Soon after though, Satoru relented. He slid the window open and climbed onto the ledge, grumbling for you to follow. You joined him, settling beside him as the smell of night air filled your room. The stars were brilliant tonight, like silver dust across an ink-black canvas.
“They’re so bright,” you murmured. “It’s almost… too much.”
Satoru snorted. “That’s the problem with you. You overthink everything. Just look at them — they’re pretty, that’s all there is to it.”
You rolled your eyes again but couldn’t suppress a small laugh. “Fine. They’re beautiful. Happy now?”
“Very,” he said, grinning. Then he tilted his head, closing his eyes and mumbling something to himself. He opened his eyes, looking at you expectantly. “Now it’s your turn. Make a wish.”
“What?” You frowned.
“A wish! Like for your birthday. I know we already made some during the cake thing, but this one’s private. Just for us.”
You hesitated, unsure of what to wish for, before finally closing your eyes. Satoru watched you intently as if trying to guess your wish, but when you opened your eyes again, he pretended to be fascinated by the sky.
“Oh, done already? What did you wish for?” he asked after a moment.
“You said it was private,” you shot back. “What did you wish for?”
“Not telling,” he replied smugly, crossing his arms. “What if you laugh?”
“Why would I laugh?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Because you’re you.” “And you’re stupid.”
The two of you fell into another argument, but when it finally died down, it was followed by a comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional sound of distant crickets. Then, out of nowhere, Satoru blurted out, “Do you think the stars can hear us?”
“What?” You stared at him.
“The stars,” he said seriously, pointing upward. “Do you think they grant wishes, like gods or something?”
“That’s stupid,” you muttered, but you couldn’t hide the faint curl of amusement on your lips. “They’re just balls of gas.”
“Well, maybe those gas balls are listening,” he said, sticking his tongue out. “You don’t know everything. Maybe they are hearing us right now.”
You opened your mouth to retort but froze. A memory seemed to resurface…
“I still don’t know why you decided to keep the child!” a deep voice was screeching at another, soft one.
“I don’t know what came over me, I swear!”“It is the spawn of Satan himself! I respect you for what you have been through, but it is time to dispose of her.”
“Dispose? You don’t mean—”
Large hands came your way to muffle the screams from your mouth.
Your fingers clenched the windowsill.
“They didn’t hear me before,” you said quietly, almost to yourself.
“What?” Satoru noticed the change in your tone, and turned to look at you, his brow furrowing. “Who? The balls?”
You shook your head quickly. “Never mind. Forget I said anything.”
But Satoru wasn’t one to let things go. “Hey,” he said softly. “You can tell me. I mean, if you want.”
His sincerity made your chest tighten. Normally, after the word ‘balls’, he would have made a bad joke about male anatomy. But he seemed to have read the room enough to shut up. You looked at him, his bright blue eyes watching you with genuine concern. For a moment, you thought about telling him. But then, the weight of it all felt too heavy to share. He was too young, too shielded from the horrors of the world to be able to handle any of it anyway.
“It’s nothing,” you muttered. “Just something dumb I used to believe.”
Satoru opened his mouth to argue, then seemed to think better of it. Instead, he smiled gently and nudged your shoulder. “Okay. But if you ever want to talk about dumb things, I’m here. You know, I’m dumb, so…” he tried making the joke you always did.
You didn’t know how to respond to that, so you simply nodded. The two of you sat in silence for a little while longer, watching the stars. Finally, Satoru stretched and hopped down from the ledge.
“Goodnight,” he said, giving you a lopsided grin. “And happy birthday.”
You blinked at him, caught off guard by the warmth in his voice. “You too,” you said softly.
As he closed the door as softly as he could behind him, you stared out at the stars, wondering if maybe, just maybe, they had started listening after all.
──── ୨ৎ ────
The sound of hooves clattering against the cobblestone path filled the air as the royal carriage swayed gently on its way to the prestigious School of Royalty. The morning sun cast a golden glow on the lush green fields outside, but inside, the atmosphere was both tense and excited.
“You know,” Satoru began, leaning lazily against the plush velvet seat, “I heard there’s a whole batch of new exchange students joining today. Rumor is, one of them’s from the Silver Crescent Kingdom. Ever seen anyone from there? They’re supposed to have that, uh… ‘ethereal glow.’ You think that’s real, or just something people say?”
You barely glanced up from the notebook in your lap, furrowing your brows as you paused your incoherent babbling of equations. “If you spent half as much time studying for the exam as you do gossiping, maybe you wouldn’t need to cheat off me later.”
He smirked, unbothered. “Cheat? Me? I’m offended. I’m just naturally brilliant.”
“And naturally annoying,” you muttered, flipping to another page of hastily scribbled notes.
Satoru ignored the jab, his grin widening. At fifteen, he’d grown into someone who couldn’t step into a room without people swooning for his attention. You guessed it was just a Gojo thing he inherited from his mother. The girls adored him — some from afar, others more boldly (you still cringe remembering that one time a girl with a sorry excuse of a top was taken away by your guards for trying to get a kiss from him last year) — and the boys either envied or wanted to be him. The name “Satoru Gojo” seemed to be whispered wherever he went, and he couldn’t be happier.
You, on the other hand, had decided that the attention you receive at your house was enough to satisfy you for a lifetime, and you would rather spend your time learning something new — at least, that’s what you told your mother; that you would rather cry over your grades than guys, to which Satoru had cleverly remarked, “Why not both?” earning a glare from his mother. While you did have friends, and you did seem to be friendly with everyone around you, you would watch in dismay when most of these friends would recite their love stories, and you had nothing to share. The boys barely noticed you, too busy being gay over Satoru. But you had your books, your achievements, and the satisfaction of knowing you didn’t need anyone’s approval.
“And get this,” Satoru continued, his excitement growing. “I heard one of them’s some kind of prodigy. Like, they mastered advanced magic when they were ten. Can you imagine? Finally, someone who might be able to keep up with me. They’re a senior too, so I want to see the look on their face when they realize I’m better than them.”
“Mhm,” you replied distractedly, not bothering to look up. You were too busy with the definition of archaic spellcasting principles and the formulas for mana stabilization to muster a reply of more than a single syllable. The exam was in less than an hour, and the thought of failing even one question sent a jolt of anxiety through you.
Satoru leaned forward, peering at your notes upside down. “What’s that? Something about magic circles? You’re still on those? I mastered those ages ago.”
You snapped your notebook shut and shot him a glare. “You didn’t ‘master’ anything. You just wing it and hope for the best.”
“Hey, it works, doesn’t it?” He shrugged. “Besides, you’ll cover for me if I mess up. That’s what partners are for.”
“We’re not partners.”
“Sure we are,” he said breezily. “Partners in crime. Mischief-makers extraordinaire. The unbeatable duo.” He winked, and you rolled your eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t fall out of your head.
The carriage hit a bump, causing you to clutch your notes tighter. Satoru, unfazed, lounged back in his seat and stared out of the window. “You know, you should relax a little. Exams aren’t life or death.”
“For you, maybe. Some of us don’t have a safety net made of charm and raw talent.”
He laughed, the sound warm and unguarded. “Wow, you really think I’m charming and talented? Thanks, baby.”
You didn’t dignify that dumb statement with a response. Instead, you turned your attention back to your notes, determined to make use of every second you had left.
The carriage began to slow, signaling their arrival at the school gates. Satoru straightened, his excitement palpable. “Here we go. Time to make an impression. Think the exchange students are going to swoon over me?”
“Only if they have no taste,” you muttered, gathering your things.
He grinned, standing and offering you a hand as the carriage came to a stop. “Come on, don’t be such a poopy.”
You cringed again before taking his hand, letting him help you down. The moment your feet touched the ground, the buzz of the school grounds surrounded you. Students swarmed the entrance, chattering excitedly about everything from the new arrivals to last-minute cramming for the exam.
Satoru strode ahead confidently, while you lingered a step behind, clutching your notes tightly. He glanced at you, running back to catch up with you. “Where’s Kuro? He’s supposed to be part of the dramatic entrance I had planned.”
“I sent him away. He was annoying me with the confetti.” “You— WHAT?”
You ignored him, continuing to walk up the stairs leading to your exam hall without looking up at anyone. Satoru jogged beside you.
“We haven’t met with any of the exchange students yet!” “Satoru, if you want to, then leave.”
He pouted, planting your face in front of yours above your notes. “You know I won’t leave you.”
“Then stay quiet and let me study.” “Alright, alright,” he said, sighing. He stared at you for a few moments, pacing around the hall with you while you muttered curses under your breath. He smiled. You always hated this one subject but felt the need to excel in it anyway. “Hey,” he said softly. “You’ll do great, you know.”
The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, but you masked it with a scoff. “You’d better hope so. If I fail, you’ll fail too.”
He laughed again, a sound as effortless as everything else about him. “That’s true. Can’t impress anyone with an F on the paper, can I?” The loud bell rang, and Satoru moved to cover your ears with the palms of his hands. “I’ve got you covered, princess. In return, you must guarantee that I pass.”
You smiled a genuine smile at him, something you had gotten quite used to doing in the past four years you had spent with your new family. “I can’t guarantee that. Let’s go, I’m done now.”
His eyes widened comically, “What do you mean you can’t guarantee that?” You laughed at him, and he snatched your notebook from your hands. “Give me that! Oh god. I’m doomed, aren’t I?”
“Yup, let’s go now.”
The exam hall echoed with the sound of faint murmurs and the occasional nervous coughs. While theory had been nerve-wracking, at least you had been able to cram for it. But the practicals? They were a whole different beast. No amount of late-night revisions could prepare you for actual spellwork.
You clutched your wand tightly, its polished surface cold and smooth against your clammy palms. The examiner called your name, and your stomach flipped. Taking a deep breath, you stepped forward. What were the steps again? Swing your wand, say the words, and hope for the best.
You stood before the enchanted apparatus. It was a simple magical round glass that would respond to the accuracy of your spell, changing its colour accordingly. The orb pulsed softly, steams of gas floating stilly in its interior, waiting. You were supposed to transfigure a cactus into a goblet full of water. The room was silent, dozens of eyes boring into your back.
Why did they have to make everyone do the practicals individually, and on stage?
You closed your eyes briefly, mustering every ounce of focus. With a flick of your wand and the carefully practiced words spilling from your lips, you executed the spell. Wand still in the air, you waited. And waited. And waited. Nothing happened. Then, the orb glowed a brilliant gold.
“Perfect!” The elderly professor cried, clasping her hands together. She really liked you. “Next, please.”
Relief washed over you, and you felt a disbelieving smile creep onto your face. Scooting off the stage, you climbed down the stairs to your seat. You caught Satoru’s eye and mouthed, Good luck. He was slouching on his chair, winking at you and giving you a lazy thumbs-up.
Just as you sat down, you noticed your gaze didn’t leave him. You kept looking at him, how effortlessly good he looked in his outfit, sunglasses perched languidly on his nose. He was looking straight ahead at the stage above, and you glanced at the front too. Shoko got a pale yellow glow from the orb, an easy B.
Your eyes wandered to the girl in line ahead of Satoru. You recognized her instantly, how could you not? Wavy chestnut hair that caught the light just so, impeccable posture, an air of confidence that bordered on smug, and her pink lips upright looking behind her. She was from one of the distant kingdoms—brilliant in class, annoyingly charming, and unfortunately, quite pretty. And right now, she seemed pretty happy about being positioned so close to Satoru.
It was the way she was smiling at Satoru that irritated you. Not the polite, fleeting kind of smile you’d give a classmate. No, this was different. She tilted her head slightly, her lips curved in a way that made even you highly uncomfortable. You saw her fingers brush a strand of hair behind her ear — twice, because apparently once wasn’t enough — and she leaned just a fraction closer to him.
You squinted. Was she flirting? She was flirting. Yuck. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, but your jaw tightened. Getting up sneakily from your seat, you joined the crowd they stood with to spy on the two.
“I hear the examiners this year are super strict,” she said, her voice soft and lilting. “Not that you need to worry. I’ve seen you in dueling practice — you’re incredible,” she sighed at him dramatically, eyes turned to hearts.
Satoru blinked at her, then scratched the back of his neck. “Uh, thanks? I guess?”
She laughed — too loud for a casual compliment. “You’re so modest! That’s so rare, you know.” Her eyes sparkled as she stared up at him, clearly hoping he’d reciprocate the energy.
He didn’t. “Modest? Me?” Satoru’s tone was laced with genuine confusion, his brow furrowing slightly. “You sure you’re talking about the right guy?”
You saw Geto, his best friend, stifle a laugh at that, but you didn’t find any of this funny. Geto caught your eye and immediately stopped laughing, trying to inch closer to Satoru to warn him of your incoming wrath.
But the girl kept blocking his way.
“Oh, absolutely,” she said smoothly, leaning in even closer. “I bet you’ll get top marks, as always. You must have so many admirers.”
Your grip on your wand tightened. You might not be as violent as Satoru when it came to dueling, but you couldn’t care less about that at the moment. Nor did you seem to notice the sheer number of students surrounding you.
Satoru, as usual, was utterly oblivious. “Admirers? I sure hope so,” he said with a shrug. “But thanks, I guess?”
You wanted to shake him. How could he not see what she was doing? The way her voice softened whenever she said his name, how her lashes fluttered just a bit too much when she looked at him — it was painfully obvious. And yet, Satoru treated her like he treated everyone else: polite, casual, and just detached enough to make it clear he wasn’t interested.
“Next!” called the examiner, and the girl’s name echoed through the hall.
She turned to Satoru with a dazzling smile. “Wish me luck?”
“Uh, good luck?” he said, scratching his head.
You were half a second away from gagging, Geto slipping from beside Satoru to join you, both of you dissing the situation in hushed whispers.
As she walked away, you muttered under your breath, “Unbelievable.”
Geto muttered, equally frustrated, but this was pointed towards Satoru, “Unbelievable indeed.”
Your eyes followed the movements of her wand, and you tried to calculate the exact angle by which she tilted her wand too high, the length by which her hand movement went wrong and the distance between her wrist and the cactus assigned to her. Geto shook his head at your overly focused expression.
A loud pop filled the air, followed by startled squeaks. Your eyes widened. The examiners scrambled around, now very much turned into rats! The girl froze, her wand dangling uselessly at her side as laughter rippled through the room.
You bit your lip. What were you supposed to be feeling right now? Secondhand embarrassment or vindication? Serves her right, you thought, though a small part of you almost pitied her. Almost.
The headmaster, who had been watching the whole ordeal with an amused expression, quickly restored order, probably glad he wasn’t turned into a mouse or something. He dismissed the rest of the students and awarded automatic A’s to those who hadn’t gone yet.
You groaned and Geto laughed at you, a grimacing Shoko dangling from his arm. Together, the three of you were about to leave the hall when Satoru caught up with you, grinning like he’d just won the lottery. “Wild. Best exam ever. I didn’t even have to do anything!”
You shot him a sideways glance, your mood souring again. “Yeah, lucky you.”
“Wait, are you mad?” he asked, peering at you. “You’re mad. Why are you mad?”
“I’m not mad,” you said shortly, walking faster, waving goodbye to Geto, who was now left alone to deal with a hungry kitten, Shoko.
“You’re definitely mad,” he teased, catching up. “What, is it because I got an A without lifting a finger? Don’t worry, you’ll get to cheat off my usual genius self next time. Maybe you’ll even get an A+++++++ because of me… or whatever the highest grade is.”
“Right,” you said, rolling your eyes. “You’re so modest,” you mimicked the girl from earlier, but he didn’t get the reference.
At break, you sat under the shade of a tree, quietly eating your snack and watching the courtyard buzz with post-exam chatter. Across the lawn, the girl was crying into her boyfriend’s shoulder, her wails loud enough to carry. You frowned, unsure whether to feel sorry for or annoyed at her.
Her boyfriend, a tall, broad-shouldered guy from her kingdom, seemed to be comforting her, rubbing her back and murmuring reassurances. Weird, you thought. He doesn’t even know he’s worse than Satoru in her eyes.
The suspension had been swift: four months for reckless and dangerous spellcasting. Watching her now, you couldn’t muster much sympathy. It was one thing to fail; it was another to fail so dramatically. It’s what she deserves.
Satoru plopped down beside you, unwrapping a burger he’d somehow acquired (probably chased after Shoko to steal her food). “Hey, isn’t that, uh... Britney? No, wait, Bridget? Or... Burger?”
You raised an eyebrow. “Burger?”
“Yeah, burger,” he said, taking a huge bite and gesturing vaguely in her direction. “She’s got layers, y’know? Like a burger.”
“You’re ridiculous,” you said, shaking your head.
“C’mon, you gotta admit it’s funny,” he said, his grin widening. “She tries to turn on the charm, and bam! Instant ratification.”
You groaned at the pun, but laughter bubbled up anyway. Satoru’s dumb humor always had a way of disarming you.
“Heyyyyyyyy!” A voice dragged out, and you were met with a flash of dark blue hair before you were hugged tightly. “I heard your exam went great, but then, of course it did.” She patted your head. “Well done.”
“Thanks, Utahime.”
“No need to thank me,” Utahime pulled out your favourite chips from her bag and handed them to you.
“Hey, nothing for me?” Satoru wailed.
“Who the fuck are you?” “Rude.”
She ignored him and turned back to you. “Anyway, did you see any of the new exchange students? They’re good-looking.”
“So?” You munched on your chips.
“So,” she said loudly, shooing Satoru off to sit in his place next to you, “we can finally get you a boyfriend.”
Satoru snorted. “Boyfriend? Why does she need a boyfriend?”
“And,” she stepped on his foot with her heel and he skipped away across the courtyard, foot in his hand and muttering curses under his breath. “There’s that prodigy guy. You two could have been academic rivals if he was in your grade. Ugh, this is so annoying. Couldn’t he repeat a few classes? Dumbass.”
“Uh, I’m not interes—” “Yes, you are,” she looked at you with a wide, crazy smile as if daring you to disagree, and you gulped.“No wasting time watching couples break up,” she pointed at the girl in front of you, whose boyfriend seemed to have heard of the real reason she messed up her spell. Utahime lifted you by one arm and practically flew the yards to reach the main hall, where your assembly would take place to welcome the exchange students.
The assembly hall buzzed with anticipation, the crowd of students shifting restlessly as they filled the rows of wooden benches. Your arm still ached from Utahime dragging you all the way here. You, on the other hand, couldn’t help but feel drained—physically and emotionally.
The morning’s drama was still fresh in your mind, particularly the girl’s humiliating display. The idea of someone so brazenly cozying up to Satoru still gnawed at you. And now, you had to sit through an assembly to greet some mysterious prodigies who probably thought they were better than everyone else. Perfect.
“Sit here,” Utahime ordered, pointing to a spot near the front. “I need a good view.”
“Of what?” you asked, dropping onto the bench with a huff.
“Duh, the new guys. Maybe one of them will be your destined academic rival-slash-love interest,” she said dramatically, clasping her hands like a cheesy romance novel heroine.
You rolled your eyes. “I’m fine without one, thanks.”
“Oh, don’t be boring,” she said, plopping down beside you. “You need some excitement in your life. Besides, I heard some of the new guys are supposed to be really good-looking,” she whispered, leaning in as if discussing a conspiracy theory involving the Monarchy of Mars. “Like, model good-looking.”
You let out a noncommittal hum, tracing the edge of the seat in front of you with a finger. Utahime nudged you. “Don’t you care? Come on, aren’t you curious?”
“Not really,” you lied.
Utahime rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed. “Sure, sure. But if someone walks in here looking like a movie star, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Your gaze wandered to the double doors at the front of the hall, where the new students were supposed to enter. You didn’t care much about the guys. But what if there were girls? Pretty girls. The kind with perfect skin and perfect hair and that effortless grace you always seemed to lack.
Your stomach churned. Why were you even thinking about that?
You glanced at Utahime, still chattering away about rumors she’d heard excitedly. She was bouncing slightly in her seat, her eyes scanning the room like a hawk. But you couldn’t shake the thought — what if everyone thought the other girls were prettier? You could almost smell the break up stories your dozen friends would fetch for you because the new girls seemed hotter to the dung-nosed guys of your school.
“For the next few months, I will be stuck amidst boy troubles,” you muttered, glancing across the hall. Satoru had finally joined the crowd, sauntering in late as usual. He spotted you almost immediately and shot you a wink before sliding into a seat with Geto and Shoko.
Your stomach did an involuntary flip, but you shoved the feeling down. He was just being Satoru like always. That’s all it was.
Right?
The headmaster’s booming voice filled the hall. “Welcome, students, to this year’s exchange program orientation!”
The crowd settled as the headmaster launched into a long-winded speech about tradition, excellence, and the importance of collaboration between kingdoms. You zoned out almost immediately, your eyes drifting back to Satoru.
He was whispering something to Geto, who smirked and nudged him in the ribs. Shoko looked utterly disinterested, flipping through a medical journal she’d smuggled in. Typical.
You pulled your eyes away from them. The last time you had zoned out in class because of him, your mood had been soured for the whole following hour. The sound of applause gave you an excuse out of your reverie. The exchange students were being introduced now, stepping onto the stage one by one. They were all polished, confident, and, admittedly, quite impressive.
Utahime elbowed you sharply. “Look at that one!” she hissed, nodding toward a tall boy with striking blond hair and piercing brown eyes.
You blinked. “Looks like he walked out of a painting.”
“Exactly,” she said, smirking. “He’s perfect for you.”
You groaned. “Can we not do this right now?”
Utahime ignored you entirely, listing off reasons why he’d make a great boyfriend: “Smart, handsome, probably good at magic—”
“Definitely better at cactus transfiguration,” you muttered, earning a snort of laughter from her.
Meanwhile, Satoru had twisted around in his seat, craning his neck to see what the commotion was about. When his eyes landed on you and Utahime, his expression soured slightly. He didn’t like being left out, and it was written all over his face.
“Who’s better at cactus transfiguration?” He suddenly appeared behind you.
“None of your business,” Utahime shot back, sticking her tongue out.
“Wow, mature,” Satoru deadpanned.
The assembly droned on, with each exchange student introducing themselves in turn. You tried to pay attention, really, but your mind kept wandering. Utahime’s ridiculous matchmaking schemes. Satoru’s infuriatingly perfect smile. The girl’s earlier meltdown. It was all swirling together into a chaotic mess of emotions you didn’t have the energy to untangle.
Finally, the headmaster wrapped up his speech with a flourish. “Let’s give our guests a warm welcome!” he declared, prompting another round of applause.
As the crowd began to disperse, Utahime grabbed your arm again. “Come on, let’s go talk to him!”
“To who?” you asked, bewildered. “The blond-haired guy, obviously!”
“Absolutely not,” you said, digging your heels into the ground.
But before you could argue further, a familiar voice interrupted.
“Leaving without saying hi? Rude.”
You turned to find Satoru standing behind you still, his trademark grin firmly in place.
Utahime groaned. “Go away, Gojo.”
“Can’t. I’m here to rescue my friend from your matchmaking madness,” he said, draping an arm over your shoulder.
You tried to shrug him off, but he held on tight, his presence annoyingly comforting.
“Why do you care?” Utahime shot back.
Satoru’s grin widened, but his tone was surprisingly serious. “Because she doesn’t need some random guy when she’s got me.”
He tugged you away, leaving Utahime fuming in his wake.
“Thanks for the save,” you mumbled once you were out of earshot.
“Anytime,” Satoru said lightly, though there was an edge to his voice you couldn’t quite place. “And besides, didn’t want you to end up with an annoying mother—”
You raised an eyebrow at him. Did he forget he was in a royal school where all the students and teachers were high-class nobles and the mere mention of vocabulary outside of the poshed-up ones exclusively for the rich would make him an infamous wreck in everyone’s eyes?
He caught your eye and continued, “—trucker.”
──── ୨ৎ ────
The dining table was as extravagant as ever, its polished surface reflecting the golden glow of the chandelier overhead. Plates were neatly arranged, and bowls of steaming food were placed in a perfect line down the centre. Mother sat at the head of the table, her posture so upright it made your back ache just looking at her. Across from her sat Father, whose stern expression was an almost permanent fixture at meals.
You occupied your usual spot, tucked between Satoru and his mother, a position that felt both safe and stifling. Satoru, of course, lounged in his chair as if it were a throne, pushing peas around his plate with one chopstick, clearly uninterested in the discussion at hand. It was peaceful and calm. But as soon as Satoru’s father set down his chopsticks, you knew this tranquillity wouldn’t last.
“Satoru,” his father began.
Satoru didn’t even look up, lazily poking at his food. “Uh oh. Here we go.”
“Don’t start,” his mother said sharply, and Satoru sighed dramatically, dropping his chopsticks like they were too heavy to hold.
“Fine. What is it this time? Did someone see me napping in class? Because, for the record, I was listening with my eyes closed.”
“Your instructor tells me your theoretical scores are excellent, as expected,” Satoru’s mother began, her sharp gaze sweeping across the table to land on him. “But your duel with Suguru during last week’s practice was... undisciplined.”
Satoru shrugged, not bothering to look up. “It’s not my fault Suguru got cocky.”
His father’s goblet hit the plate with a sharp clink. “And whose fault is it that you refuse to follow proper form? You’re not dueling for fun, Satoru. These exercises are meant to sharpen your skills for real combat.”
You could feel the tension grow, so you instinctively focused on the rice in your bowl. Satoru, however, leaned back in his chair, completely unfazed.
“Real combat isn’t about sticking to the rulebook,” he said lazily, resting an arm on the back of your chair. “It’s about adaptability.”
“That is not an excuse to showboat,” his mother snapped. “You might think you’re untouchable, but arrogance will get you killed one day.”
For a brief moment, something flickered in his eyes — irritation, maybe, or defiance — but he masked it with a grin. “Not likely.”
“Only because you’re naturally talented,” his mother interjected coldly. “Talent will only carry you so far, Satoru. You lack discipline, respect, and—”
“Manners,” his father finished, glaring at him.
His mother pinched the bridge of her nose. “All we’re trying to make you understand is, this isn’t a joke, Satoru. You’re supposed to be the strongest, and yet you’re constantly underperforming. Meanwhile, look at her.” She gestured to you, and your heart sank.
“Oh no,” you muttered under your breath.
“Look at her,” his mother repeated. “Top marks in every subject, excellent dueling reports, and the teachers can’t stop praising. Why can’t you be more like her?”
Satoru threw up his hands. “Because she’s a robot! Have you seen her handwriting? It’s terrifying!”
“I just have neat handwriting,” you mumbled defensively.
“Neat? It’s like a calligraphy competition on every page,” Satoru said, jabbing a chopstick at you. “She probably practices writing spells for fun.”
“She’s perfect,” his father said firmly, as if it were an unshakable fact of the universe.
“Exactly my point!” Satoru exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air. “How am I supposed to compete with that?!”
“You’ve been doing wonderfully,” his mother interrupted warmly, and you almost choked on your water. She reached to kiss your forehead and you felt fuzzy all over.
“Really?” you said hopefully.
“Yes,” his father agreed, nodding. “We’re very impressed with your progress. And your last dueling performance was flawless. Keep it up.”
Satoru’s jaw dropped. “What? That’s it? No lecture about being even better? No existential guilt trip?”
“She doesn’t need one,” his mother said simply.
“She’s already self-motivated,” his father added.
Satoru gawked at them, then at you. “Wait, are you seriously not going to roast her? Not even a little?”
His mother held up a hand to silence the banter. “Enough. We’re not here to discuss her. We’re here to discuss you and your inability to take anything seriously.”
“I take plenty of things seriously!” Satoru protested.
“Name one,” his father challenged.
Satoru opened his mouth, paused, then pointed to you. “Her.”
You nearly choked on your rice. “What?!”
“See? I take her academic success very seriously,” he continued smoothly. “She’s basically my tutor at this point. Without her, I’d probably be failing food transfiguration.”
“Food transfiguration is not the metric for success,” his father said dryly, but his lips twitched like he was trying not to laugh.
“And yet, it’s a class!” Satoru shot back. “A class I pass, thanks to her.”
You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Please stop talking.”
“Never,” Satoru said cheerfully, ruffling your hair like you were a pet.
The room went silent for a beat, and then his father muttered, “Pass the rice.”
You couldn’t help but snort, quickly covering your mouth to stifle your laughter. Satoru’s grin widened, clearly taking your reaction as a victory.
“I’m serious about the food transfiguration, though,” he whispered to you as the conversation shifted. “You saved me from flunking that one.”
“By telling you to stop turning the chicken into a dinosaur?” you whispered back, rolling your eyes.
“Exactly. Genius advice.” Satoru sighed, slumping dramatically. "I swear, if I weren’t so charming, I’d be useless."
“You are,” you replied, teasing him with a grin.
──── ୨ৎ ────
The foreign exchange students filed into the classroom. You hadn’t met any of them yet, but the instant you saw a giggling pack of girls, dressed in a way that clearly screamed “I’m a tourist, please give me attention,” take seats scattered around the room, you knew this would be a long class. They were chatting loudly, condescending smiles on their faces and prissy postures to back it up. One of them locked eyes with you and stood up.
The girl scanned the room, perhaps trying to find something to shift the attention of the bustling and noisy class to her. Sitting beside you, Geto didn’t even flinch as the girl cleared her throat loudly. You could feel it. She was about to open her mouth.
And open it she did.
“Do you guys feel,” she addressed her fellow exchange people, “that the culture here is a bit… Well, I don’t know what you'd call it. Primitive, I guess? It’s like they just dug it up from some ancient ruins," she said, waving a hand dismissively, as if she were talking about a dusty artefact. “This whole— uhm— ‘honour’ thing? So outdated. I didn’t find any such codes on how to behave in the culture of the South, or the West, or the South-West. Maybe it is because the people here still need to be taught manners, I suppose.”
The other students, contrary to what she had hoped, didn’t pay any attention to her. They didn’t seem to have heard her, because if they had… well, all of them were from noble clans, of course they would have a problem with it.
The girl didn’t seem to notice. Or care.
“You there!” She screeched at you, coming to a halt in front of your desk after pacing around like she was delivering an important lecture. “I heard you’re the top student. Representative, or something, they told me. Like—” she turned to face you more directly, suddenly noticing the lack of a surname on your badge “—wow, you don’t even have a last name. I heard you were from the Gojo clan. But, I mean, you don’t even have their surname? Were you picked up from some ditch or something?”
You flushed. Most of the students were tactful enough to not point that out to you, and if they did, they would return with a bruise soon after, credit to Satoru. But Satoru was in the hospital wing right now, and thankfully so, because you didn’t want him making a scene here in the middle of your Charms class. Geto’s fingers brushed lightly against your arm; he was trying to calm you down. He didn’t need to say anything; you already knew what he was thinking.
Shoko, sitting in front of you, shifted in her seat. Her fingers twitched toward her coat pocket, and you could swear you felt a chill run down your spine at the look she had on her face. Shoko’s glare was murderous, and her hand slowly moved to her doctor’s tools — just a few inches away from hurling them at the girl’s smug face.
“Don’t bother,” Geto murmured under his breath. “Let her go on. She’s not worth the energy.” His eyes never left you as he spoke, a detached smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Ignore her, Shoko.”
The girl leaned on your desk as you continued to determinedly stare at a spot on your notebook
“Oh, but wait,” she continued haughtily, “you must’ve been a mistake. I mean, the Gojo clan leaders, right? They couldn’t possibly have any sense of judgement, could they? Considering who their son is, who he’s raised by. They probably just took in anyone, huh? Just to fill the numbers. I bet they didn’t even care to see if you had any real worth.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Geto interrupted her calmly, his smile widening, a maddenned look in his eyes. “If you don’t stop right now, you might have to deal with a curse or two, because I’m not exactly one to be afraid of duelling in front of teachers.”
Alina was unfazed, leaning back in her chair with a smirk plastered across her face. “Oh, I so do. You can’t silence me. The Gojo clan is only famous because they have money and influence — nothing more.” She leaned forward again, her eyes narrowing. “And the leaders? They’re a joke. All that power, and they still let their precious son — what’s his name? Satoru? —play around like the child he is. Tell me, do you ever wonder if he’s actually good for anything besides being the ‘chosen one?’ Or is it just another piece of their precious family’s empire?”
No.
That was it.
You snapped. Your body moved before your brain could catch up. Pulling out your wand from your pocket, you let the cold tip touch her throat. The girl immediately shut up, caught off guard and not having the time to reach her own wand, which was kept on the table her friends were sitting at.
“What’s wrong? Can’t speak? I’d love to hear more from that croak of a voice you possess. Please, go on with your pathetic guesses about my lineage.”
“Don’t,” Geto warned, but you were too blinded by the ringing echo of her words about your family. Shoko was already gripping the side of her desk, looking like she wanted to step in.
“You want me to speak more?” The girl said. “I can speak more. Because I know what you are. I would have felt sorry for you if you weren’t so stuck up though. As they say, no power, no future.”
Before you could retort, or even say a quick charm to freeze her throat so it snapped in half, the door flew open, and a voice interrupted your anger.
"Both of you, in my office. Now."
It was the teacher, standing in the doorway, arms crossed, clearly fed up. Without missing a beat, you spun on your heel, flicking a glance at Geto and Shoko.
──── ୨ৎ ────
It was oddly quiet in the headmaster’s office. You sat alone at the desk, gloves pulled snug over your hands, a rag in one and a half-polished trophy in the other. The cleaning did little to distract you from the frustration you felt.
The headmaster’s words still rang in your ears: “Detention builds character, and perhaps a lesson in self-control will serve you well.”
Self-control. As if it was your fault someone had insulted your family.
The soft creak of the door interrupted your thoughts. You stilled, expecting the headmaster to return and scold you for slacking off. Instead, a familiar white head of hair peeked around the doorframe.
"What the—" you hissed. "Are you insane? If someone catches you here—"
“Wow. You, of all people, getting detention?”
Satoru leaned casually against the doorframe, his arms crossed and a lazy smirk on his face.
“What are you doing here?” you asked, your voice sharper than you intended.
“Came to pick you up,” he said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Kuro was freaking out because he didn’t know why we weren’t at the gates, so I told him to head home without us.”
“You didn’t have to—”
“Relax. He’s used to me pulling stuff like this.” Satoru strolled into the room, glancing around with mild interest before his eyes landed on the pile of trophies waiting to be polished. “So... what’s the story? Did you finally snap and hex someone?”
You rolled your eyes, turning back to the trophy in front of you. “Shouldn’t you be hiding somewhere? I mean, you’re not supposed to be here after school.”
“Oh, I’m cutting it. I figured detention with you would be more fun.”
You ignored him, hoping he’d get bored and leave, but Satoru was never one to take a hint. He perched on the edge of the desk beside you.
“Come on,” he said, nudging your arm lightly. “Tell me what happened.”
You bit the inside of your cheek, refusing to look at him. “Nothing. Just... a disagreement.”
“A disagreement?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow. “That’s all you’re giving me?”
You stayed silent, scrubbing furiously at a nonexistent smudge on the trophy. But your hands were shaking slightly, and he noticed.
His teasing expression softened. “Hey,” he said quietly, leaning closer and nuzzling your hair. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” you said quickly, but the crack in your voice betrayed you. You cursed under your breath, setting the trophy down harder than you intended.
“Right,” Satoru said dryly. “You know lying is a sin, right?”
Before you could stop him, he reached out and plucked the rag from your hand. You opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off with a firm look.
“Enough,” he said, tossing the rag onto the desk. He grabbed your hands, tugging the gloves off gently, his touch warm and steady against your cold fingers.
“Satoru, what are you—”
“Helping,” he said simply.
You stared at him, your breath hitching slightly as he held your hands in his. His grip was firm but gentle, his thumbs brushing over your knuckles.
“You shouldn’t have done it,” he said after a moment, his voice quieter now. “Gotten detention, I mean.”
Your throat tightened, and you looked away. “I didn’t even do much. I just threatened her, ‘s all—”
“I know,” he said. “But you didn’t have to stand up for me like that.”
“Yes, I did.” The words came out sharper than you intended, but you didn’t care. “She had no right to talk about your family like that. Or mine,” you added quietly.
Satoru’s expression softened, and he sighed, letting go of your hands only to pull you into a hug. Your breath stopped. It was so sudden and unexpected, but his arms around you were so warm and secure, and for a moment, you forgot just how cold the office was.
“Thank you,” he murmured against your hair. “For putting us first.”
You swallowed hard, your face pressed against his shoulder. You could feel his heartbeat. His vanilla scent filled your nostrils, and you couldn’t help but sigh at the sensation.
Just what were you feeling?
He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. The gesture was so gentle, so unexpected, that it sent a shiver down your spine. Goosebumps prickled along your arms, and your breath caught in your throat. Eyes widening on his chest.
Satoru pulled back slightly, his hands still resting lightly on your shoulders. He studied your face for a moment, his gaze searching, before giving you a small, crooked smile.
“Alright there?” he asked softly.
You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. His smile widened, and he gave your shoulders a reassuring squeeze before stepping back.
“Good,” he said, picking up your gloves and the rag you had abandoned. “Because I think it’s my turn to polish these things. You’ve done enough.”
You blinked at him, confused. “You can’t just—”
“Too late.” He waved the rag dramatically, grinning. “Go sit down and relax. Perfect students need to take a break to be imperfect once in a while.”
Despite yourself, a smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He waved you off, already humming to himself as he began scrubbing.
──── ୨ৎ ────
You sat with your detention homework in your garden after the headmaster had insisted on giving you some more ‘punishments’ for letting Satoru in his office. On the stone bench, you glared at the crumpled detention slip in your hands. The words from earlier still rang in your ears.
Wow, you don’t even have a last name. I heard you were from the Gojo clan. But, I mean, you don’t even have their surname? Were you picked up from some ditch or something?
You must've been a mistake
The nerve of that girl, whatever her name was. She had no right to talk like that. But as much as you hated to admit it, her words dug deep. Why didn’t you have the surname? Why were you even here?
You sighed, staring down at your hands, throwing the slip away and watching it skid between bushes. The gate creaked, pulling you from your thoughts. Satoru’s mother stepped into the garden. She always seemed to know when something was wrong.
She smiled warmly as she approached. “Trouble at school?”
You let out a small huff, tossing the detention homework onto the bench. “Some girl decided to remind me I don’t belong here,” you muttered. “She’s not wrong. I mean, I don’t even have your family name. I’m just... here.”
Her expression softened, and she sat down beside you. “Suguru told me it was someone from the Kamo clan. She said that, did she?”
You nodded. “She made it sound like I’m just some random stray you all picked up out of pity.”
A shadow flickered across her face, but she stayed silent for a moment, as if weighing her words carefully. Then she sighed softly and folded her hands neatly in her lap. “You don’t carry the Gojo surname yet because... you aren’t meant to. One day, you will.”
You were confused. “One day? What are you talking about?”
Her gaze softened further, and she reached for your hand. “You’re not here because of pity. You’re here because I care for you deeply. You’re family to me. And... well, you’re engaged, my dear. To Satoru.”
The words hit you like a thunderclap. “Engaged?” you whispered.
She nodded gently. “It was my decision. Not to strengthen ties or fulfill some tradition — I couldn’t bear the thought of marrying you off to anyone else. You’re important to me, and to this family. No one else would cherish you the way you deserve. No one else would love you the way I know he can.”
Your head was spinning. Engaged? To Satoru? The same Satoru who stole your dessert, teased you relentlessly, and drove you up the wall with his arrogance?
“Does he know?” you managed to ask.
A small, amused smile tugged at her lips. “Not yet. I’m waiting for the right time to tell him. You know how he is — he’d probably react with some ridiculous joke or dismiss it entirely without thinking it through.”
You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “You mean I’m supposed to sit on this bombshell while he’s running around like an overgrown child?”
She chuckled softly, reaching over to pat your shoulder. “It’s not so bad. You’ve already grown close to him, haven’t you?”
Close. You couldn’t deny it. In the past few years, you had gone from tolerating his antics to — well, something. The butterflies in your stomach betrayed you every time he smiled or stood too close.
But this? This was too much.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” you asked weakly, peeking through your fingers.
“I wanted you to have time to figure out your feelings without the weight of this hanging over you,” she admitted. “And... I wasn’t entirely sure when you’d be ready to hear it. But seeing you upset, questioning your place here, I couldn’t keep it from you any longer. Forgive me, darling.” She stood then. “You’re exactly where you’re meant to be,” she said gently. “Never let anyone make you doubt that.”
And with that, she disappeared back into the house, leaving you alone with the truth.
Engaged. To Satoru.
The butterflies in your stomach weren’t just fluttering now—they were staging a full-on rebellion. You let out a groan, slumping back against the bench.
──── ୨ৎ ────
Over a year had passed. The two of you were turning seventeen the next year, and with the increase in your age, the load of schoolwork increased too. The School of Royalty had seen so many changes. They were rebuilding the duelling grounds and organising even more clubs than before. Girls were mysteriously beginning to drop out of school, and you didn’t want to know why. There were less than ten girls in your class of fifty, and you figured this number would reduce even more as women in nobility were hurriedly married off to distant kingdoms, forced to give up their education to serve as a showpiece for the men to flaunt.
You were thankful the Gojo clan saw you as more than that, or you wouldn’t have been in the same class as your friends this year. You couldn’t bear not seeing Utahime, Shoko, Suguru and of course, Satoru.
Satoru.
The one you had realized you didn’t want if he wasn’t looking at you at all times, if he wasn’t talking to you at all times, or cracking jokes to you at all times. The one you had realized you wanted more of, more than what the two of you are now, more than what you two have ever been, more than friends, more than best friends; you wanted him more than anything in the world. Him, him, him, him. You wanted his eyes on you, his hands on you. You wanted everything about him. Everything. Every single thing—
“Hey, you alive?” His voice snapped you back to reality.
“Huh? Oh yeah.”
“I was saying,” he pulled a girl towards him by her hands and she landed on his chest with a dull thump. “This is Alina.”
You stared at her. Triumphant looking face, lips giggling into the broad layer of his front.
Wait.Wasn’t she—?
“You might remember her,” Satoru pressed. You did. Vividly.
Oh.
“She needs some duelling practice apparently, so she’s gonna be watching us from there,” he points at the stands. “Hope you don’t mind.”
“Oh, yeah, it’s okay,” you said in a voice you didn’t know you owned. The words felt so heavy on your tongue, as if it was an entirely different person speaking them.
“Great, thanks,” he ushered the girl back to the stands and leaned down to kiss the top of your forehead again. You blinked.
Oh, no, he didn’t see it like that at all.To him, it was just a gesture he had grown used to doing. Yeah.
You stood across from him on the training field, your stance ready and tense. The sunlight was bright today, almost too bright, and you didn’t know if it was the heat or the sudden emptiness you felt. Satoru smiled at you, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“You ready?” he asked, voice nonchalant. It wasn’t the usual teasing edge. The spark was missing.
You nodded.
“I’ve got you today, Gojo,” you tried making the dumb jokes he used to make. You weren’t sure if it was working, but you tried anyway.
The sparring session started, but something felt wrong. Satoru’s movements were slower than usual, his focus elsewhere. He kept glancing at the stands from time to time, as if trying to see if she was watching him. He didn’t block your attack in time, letting you knock him down with ease.
“You alright?” You bent down to help him up, but he just waved you off, a tight smile on his face.
“Yeah, yeah. Just… tired, I guess,” he shrugged, avoiding your eyes.
Alina came running down the stands, her hands clutched on her chest, fussing over him while he waved her off too, getting up.
“Another one?” “No, thank you.”
That was the first time you had ever said no to him.
──── ୨ৎ ────
Later that week, you walked into the cafeteria, hoping to find Utahime and grab a quick meal before your History class. You were halfway into the queue before you realized Utahime had Charms class right now. After all, she was a senior of yours; she would have more schoolwork than you. So you were about to take the tray you got to one of the empty tables alone, hoping to find someone else.
And you did find someone. Satoru sat across from Alina as comfortable as ever. They looked like they were on a date. Was this why he had skipped a class he had with you?
“Oh, hey,” he greeted you when you approached, but his voice lacked its usual warmth. There was a coolness in it, like he wasn’t really there.
The girl’s voice broke into the silence, bright and too eager. “I was just telling Satoru about how I’m finally starting to get the hang of wand control now. I know he’s been busy with other stuff, but he’s still managed to help me out.”
You felt the hairs on your neck prickle.
“That's great,” you said, keeping your tone neutral. “I'm sure Satoru is happy to help.”
You tried to keep your expression even as you sat down on their table. Wrong choice. Satoru, oblivious or indifferent, didn’t seem to notice any sort of tension in the air. He smiled, nodding along to whatever the girl was saying, while you forced a smile and picked at your food.
You felt like an outsider.
──── ୨ৎ ────
That same week, after a banquet of the noble families held at the Gojo clan’s immaculate residence, you were walking alone towards the girls’ dorms when you overheard two voices seemingly arguing calmly. You pressed an ear onto the door hiding the people.
“You don’t seem to realize your Alina is the same girl who was insulting your own family,” Suguru was saying. “She got us into trouble too. You weren’t there so you don’t know how bad she talked about—”
“I know she’s not like how she was before,” Satoru interrupted loudly. “And I know you guys still have a problem with her, but you’ve got to trust me, okay? She’s changed.”
Your heart sank. “Changed?” Suguru repeated bitterly. “Really? After everything she said about the Gojo clan?”
He didn’t reply right away, but when he finally spoke, it was with that soft, almost apologetic tone.
“I get it. I really do. But she’s… trying, okay? She’s not the same person.”
You clenched your jaw, your hands trembling slightly at your sides. You felt numb all over. Uprooting one leg from your position, you walked backwards, away from your heartbreak.
“I don’t know if I can believe that, Satoru. Not after everything she did.” “I know, but please. Try, for me?”
Your back hit the pillar and you stopped. Slowly lifting feet one after the other, you walked. You didn’t know where you were walking to, but you just walked. You didn’t know what hurt more: the fact that he was asking you to trust her, or the fact that you wanted to — because you trusted him so much.
“There you are!” Utahime caught up to you. “Where did you go? How can you get lost in your own house—” You lifted your face up to her, and she looked taken aback. She inhaled, wiping tears you never realized started falling after stinging your eyes so bad, and she asked in an uncharacteristically soft voice. “Baby, what’s wrong?”
“Utahime—” your voice broke.
──── ୨ৎ ────
You were walking down the school halls, your mind preoccupied with your own thoughts as you made your way to the classroom. The noise of chatter and the shuffle of students faded into the background, making you realize you were starting to zone out again. You seemed to do that a lot these days.
“And I just know it will be you!” Alina’s voice cut through, syrupy, too sweet to be sincere. You froze, stopping behind a pillar. They were standing conveniently near the same path you had to cross to get to your class. Great. Now you had to bite back any snide remarks you had because poor Satoru would be upset if you didn’t.
You peeked out. Alina was leaning against the wall, her laughter light and airy as she spoke to Satoru, who was right beside her, looking at her with that familiar, careless smile he used to reserve for you, one that you had now grown to hate.
You could hear her complimenting him, the way she laughed too loudly at every word of his. “Oh, Satoru, your technique today was amazing, as always! I honestly don’t know just how you do it.” Her tone was sugary, and you cringed. You wanted to look away, but something held you in place, as if some invisible force was gripping you to that spot, making you watch the scene in front of you with red eyes and darkness underneath them.
Then you heard his voice. “Come on, Alina, you’re making me blush,” he chuckled playfully. He was oblivious, as usual (or maybe he wasn’t, and he truly trusted this woman more than his friends). But you weren’t. You noticed how her hands lingered on his arm a little too long, how her fingers curled around his sleeve possessively.
You couldn’t breathe.
You turned, hoping to slip past unnoticed, but of course, she caught sight of you. There was a flicker of something dark in her eyes before she forced a smile onto her face, calling out in that voice that made your skin crawl.
“Oh, hey!” she chirped, calling out your name. “You don’t mind sharing, do you?”
The words hit you like a slap. You were caught between disbelief and anger. How dare she speak to you like that? You glanced at Satoru, hoping he would interject, but he didn’t. He was too busy focusing his attention on her like a complete idiot.
You looked down at the floor, clenching your teeth. “You can have him,” you muttered. You didn’t want to show her how much it hurt, but it was all too clear in your voice and actions.
Alina’s smile faltered for a split second, her eyes narrowing. “Oh, are you sure?” she said, “I’m sure Satoru wouldn’t mind at all. He’s such a generous guy.”
You could hear her subtle challenge, the way she was almost daring you to react. But you didn’t give her the satisfaction. Instead, you straightened up, forcing the words out with a calmness you didn’t feel.
“I’m sure,” you said simply. Not waiting for a response, you turned on your heel and walked away as quickly as you could, your heart pounding in your chest.
Behind you, you could feel her eyes on your back, but you refused to turn around.
You hated her. You hated the way she acted so confident. You hated how she was so entitled. And you hated how Satoru, in all his charm and glory, refused to hear a word against her; how he couldn’t see the way she was trying to wedge herself between not only the two of you but also your entire friend group.
It was always this way, wasn’t it? The more you wanted him, the farther he seemed to slip out of reach.
──── ୨ৎ ────
After a three hour long soak in your bathtub, you decided it was time to go back into your room without anyone noticing. You spent most of your time hiding away from everyone; your parents, your servants, and him anyway, so you doubted anyone would miss you. With a sigh, you wore your nightdress and pushed your bedroom door open.
Satoru was sitting on your bed, his chin in his palms as he stared at the floor, clearly deep in thought and waiting for you to return. The moment you walked in, his gaze snapped to you, and the tension in the room tripled.
“You’re back,” he said. There was something in his voice — you couldn’t point out what exactly it was, but you didn’t like how it made you feel.
“What are you doing in my room?” The words came out harsher than you had intended them to be.
He didn’t answer right away; just sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his face before standing up and facing you fully. “Why are you always so mean to her?” His voice was quieter now, more frustrated than usual.
You blinked, taken aback. "Mean to whom?" you asked, trying to play dumb.
“Alina,” he said. “Why do you always treat her like that?”
You controlled the urge to roll your eyes, though you knew Satoru expected you to. You wanted to scream, but you held it back, just barely. “Oh, you mean the girl who’s been constantly hovering around you? The one who acts like she owns you?” You crossed your arms defensively. “Sorry, I didn’t realize I was supposed to cheer her on and clap for every little thing she does.”
Satoru scoffed, taking his face in his hands before looking up again. “You don’t have to be so cold all the time! Can’t you just try to get along with her? She’s changed. Why can’t you just see that?”
“Changed?” You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing at his innocence. “She’s the same girl who insulted your family. She insulted everything you stand for, everything you care about, and you think she’s changed? Are you seriously that blind?”
His eyes darkened, and he gritted his teeth. “You’re always so hung up on the past! Why can’t you just move on?”
You shot him a look, disbelief swirling in your chest. “Move on?” Your voice was shaking with the effort of holding back everything you wanted to say. “Why is it that you’re the only person who sees that she has changed? Why is it that everyone else around you swears she hasn’t?”
Satoru didn’t respond right away. Then, he took a deep breath in, as if it was taking every bone in his body to control his emotions to hit you at that very moment. “Why do you care so much? Why can’t you just give her a chance?” he asked, almost pleading with you.
You stared at him for a moment too long. “Because,” you bit back, “She’s using you. And you’re too caught up in your own world to even see it.”
He took a step toward you, voice rising now. “That’s not true! She’s not using me! She—”
You threw your hands up in frustration. “You don’t get it, do you?” You were shouting now. “She is using you, Satoru! And I’m the one who’s supposed to stand here and watch while you defend her? While you act like she’s some saint who’s done nothing wrong?”
Satoru’s patience snapped, and his expression hardened. He couldn’t stand anymore of you making assumptions about her anymore. “You don’t even belong in this house! Why do you think you have a say in anything I’m doing? You’re not even part of this!” He took a step toward you, his eyes dark with anger, a final insult.
The words hit you like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, you couldn’t breathe. The blood drained from your face as everything came crashing down around you.
“Oh,” was all you managed to say, your voice barely a whisper as your eyes filled with tears. You couldn’t speak. You couldn’t even look at him. You felt your heart shatter into a thousand pieces in your chest.
Satoru’s expression faltered, but it was too late now.
“Leave,” you whispered through gritted teeth.
He hesitated for a second, looking like he wanted to say something more. But he didn’t. With a sharp breath, he turned and walked toward the door.
The second the door slammed shut behind him, you collapsed onto your bed, your hands clutching at the sheets as sobs wracked your body. You cried harder than you ever had before — louder, deeper, until you felt like you couldn’t breathe. Your chest ached with every gasp, every sob, the pain of his words echoing in your mind.
You don’t even belong in this house!
He was right.
You don’t even have their surname? Were you picked up from some ditch?
She was right.
It is the spawn of Satan himself!
They were all right, all absolutely right, weren’t they?
Come with me, daughter.
It was a lie.
You know I won’t leave you.
Lie.
She doesn’t need some random guy when she’s got me.
Lie, lie, lie!
You know lying is a sin, right?
You clutched your chest hard. You didn’t know how long you cried, but when the tears finally stopped, all that remained was emptiness. A hollow space where something you had always held onto seemed to disappear.
──── ୨ৎ ────
“What are you doing here?” you asked coldly.
He shrugged, his usual smirk flickering to life. “Just passing by.”
“Passing by my room?” you shot back, though your voice was devoid of any emotion.
He rubbed the back of his neck, looking almost sheepish. “Maybe… I wanted to talk.”
“What do you want?”
He hesitated, just for a moment, before forcing a laugh. “I don’t know. How are the studies? Still out to prove you’re the best in the room?”
Your expression didn’t change, and the awkwardness between you grew even more.
“Also,” he chuckled nervously, “what did you say to Utahime? I was almost killed thrice in the last two days.”
“If you don’t have anything important to say, Gojo, move.” You stepped past him, unlocking your door. You had begun locking it since the incident that night, to avoid him sneaking in when you were away and to avoid anyone walking in on you bawling your eyes out, trying to drown the repetitive voices in your head with theories about spells and charms.
“Why are you being like this?” His voice stopped you. He paused, watching you fiddle with the lock, clearly taking the hesitating actions as a cue to continue. “Like… like you don’t care.” His eyes finally met yours, and for a moment, they weren’t the Satoru you knew. There was no smugness, no teasing — just guilt.
You bit the inside of your cheek to keep your voice steady. “You’re imagining things,” you said, pushing the door open.
“Am I?” His tone sharpened, and he took a step closer. “You’ve been avoiding me for weeks. You won’t even look at me.”
“Maybe I have nothing to say to you,” you replied, turning to him to see his expression one last time before sorrow overtook your senses again.
His shoulders were stiffened, and for the first time this night, he couldn’t meet your gaze.
“That’s what I thought,” you said, your voice quieter now. “You know exactly why, Satoru. You just don’t want to admit it.”
He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. “I didn’t mean it,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Goodnight, Satoru,” you said, slamming the door in his face before he could say anything else.
The silence that followed was deafening, and on the other side of the door, he lingered. You waited, holding your breath as you leaned against the wood, but no sound came.
And just like that, the distance between you grew wider.
──── ୨ৎ ────
Your school year was nearing the end, and summer was around the corner. The days before that had been a blur. You had avoided Satoru like the plague, throwing yourself deeper into your books and classes. Even your classmates had noticed the change, though none dared to bring it up to your face.
Except for Shoko.
“Are you okay?” she asked one afternoon, cornering you in the library.
“I’m fine,” you lied, not looking up from your Curses: A Guide to Identify the Weakness book.
“No, you’re not.” She pulled up a chair, crossing her arms as she stared at you. “You’re avoiding him, he’s avoiding everyone, and the rest of us are stuck in the middle of whatever this is.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said flatly.
She groaned, leaning back in her chair. “You’re lucky this is me and not Utahime. Just so you know, he sent a message.”
That caught your attention. Slowly, you closed your book and looked at her. “What message?”
“He said he’s done with Alina,” Shoko said softly. “Said he wouldn’t talk to her anymore.”
“Why are you telling me this?” you asked quietly.
“Because,” Shoko said, standing up, “you’re both being stupid. And I’m sick of watching my friends tear themselves apart over something that could be fixed with one honest conversation.”
“Honest conversation?” you repeated bitterly. “What’s there to say? He made his priorities clear, Shoko.”
“Did he?” She raised an eyebrow, leaning closer. “Or did you just decide that for him because you’re too scared to hear what he actually thinks?”
Your jaw tightened. “You weren’t there, Shoko. You didn’t hear the things he said.”
“You’re right, I wasn’t. But I’ve seen how miserable he’s been these past few weeks,” she countered. “He won’t say it, but he’s been beating himself up about it. He knows he messed up.”
“And what about me?!” you snapped, your voice harsher than you intended. “I’m supposed to just forget everything? Pretend like I wasn’t the one he hurt?”
Shoko sighed, her expression softening. “No. But you’re not giving him a chance to make it right. He’s been trying to talk to you — hell, he even took all the hits heroically when Utahime nearly ripped him apart.”
You blinked, caught off guard. “Utahime — what?”
“Oh, yeah,” Shoko said. “She had a few choice words for him. Might’ve included running him over by her carriage horses. Not my place to repeat them, but let’s just say she wasn’t thrilled with how he handled things.”
Despite yourself, a small, bitter smile tugged at your lips. “Good for her.”
“Look,” Shoko said, softening her tone again, “you don’t have to forgive him right away. But at least talk to him. He’s done with Alina, and it’s obvious you’re not over him. Don’t let this thing between you two fester any longer.”
You stared at her for a long moment, her words sinking in despite the stubborn walls you’d built around yourself. “I’ll think about it,” you said finally.
“Good,” Shoko said with a satisfied nod. “Just… don’t take too long. We’re not kids forever, you know.”
──── ୨ৎ ────
The knock on Satoru’s bedroom door felt louder than you intended. You had rehearsed this moment in your mind a dozen times already. What were you supposed to say again?
Hey. It’s me. Haha.
No no no. Hey, how have you been?
No, ugh. Hey, nice weather?
Still, when the door opened and his bright blue eyes met yours, every word you had prepared seemed to vanish. The two of you only stared at each other, he in surprise and you in embarrassment.
“Hey,” he said, trying to break the silence.
“Hey,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.
The silence stretched between you for a moment before he stepped aside, gesturing for you to come in. You did, though your fingers fidgeted nervously at your sides.
The room looked messy. The bedsheets were sprawled around as if he had been tossing and turning all night earlier. The curtains were closed so the room was in utter darkness. Yet, you needed no amount of light to see the look of sleep-deprivation he carried on his face.
Was it because of you? Because you had acted this way? Was it because he was regretting what he said to you earlier (he should, a voice in your head said, but you pushed it away)? Or was he failing his classes again? His stream was different from yours so you couldn’t meet him in school either. Or was it perhaps because of—
“I was—” you both started at the same time, cutting each other off awkwardly.
You let out a breathy laugh, and for the first time in weeks, his lips pulled upward, a glimmer of the boy you knew. “You first,” he offered, stepping closer.
“I was going to say that I…” Your words faltered as he reached for your hand. His fingers, warm and tentative, brushed yours before interlocking gently. “Oh. Wow.” He smiled at you, pulling you closer to kiss the top of your head. “I missed this,” you admitted finally, your voice breaking slightly.
“I’m sorry,” he said immediately, softer than you had expected him to be. “For everything. For being such a—”
A sudden knock interrupted him, and a servant’s voice called from the hall. “Young Master, Miss — Madam requests your presence in the meeting room immediately.”
Satoru groaned under his breath, but you let go of his hand, smiling as well now. “We’ll talk later,” you murmured, turning to leave.
The Gojo clan’s meeting room was one thing, but the Gojo family’s meeting room felt even more imposing. High ceilings, ornate woodwork, and an air of superiority — that was the only way anyone could describe it. Mother and Father sat at the head of the low table, their expressions unreadable.
“You’re here,” his father said. He gestured for you and Satoru to sit, and you did, sitting in a formal position with your hands on your knees, feet touching the soft pillow under you. His mother only nodded at both of you. “We’ve received an invitation from the Kamo Clan.”
Kamo Clan? You had read about a legend of theirs in your history class. A man who had dropped himself to the bottom of the hells indulging with curses to create powerful heirs. The Kamo Clan had an awful reputation — ancient, powerful, and, if rumours were to be believed, sinister.
Beside you, you felt Satoru stiffen, and whisper only one word.
“Alina?”
Of course! How could you have forgotten that? The girl who had been plaguing your school ever since she set foot in it was Kamo Alina. Suddenly, what his father said didn’t matter anymore. The way his mother was staring between you and him didn’t matter anymore. What was about to happen in his room that time didn’t matter.
“The banquet,” Satoru’s father continued, and it took a lot of effort from you to keep listening, “is an exclusive gathering of noble families from across the globe. It will take place in the south, and attendance is mandatory for representatives of our house.”
You gathered the courage to steal a glance at Satoru’s expression. The look on his face was enough to tell you he wasn’t surprised by the connection. He knew. He had known it all this time. Your hands curled into fists under the table, your nails biting into your palms, probably leaving marks too.
His mother’s voice said coolly. “Prepare yourselves. You’ll leave at the end of the week. Dismissed.”
You didn’t wait for Satoru as you stood abruptly, your pillow gliding across the floor. You made your way back to your room, trying not to look back at his face, but you didn’t make it far before he caught up with you.
“Wait!” He grabbed your arm, spinning you around to face him. “It’s not what you think.”
You yanked your arm free, glaring at him. “It’s not what I think? Really, Gojo? Because I think you lied to me.”
“I didn’t—”
“You said you weren’t in contact with her!” you snapped.
“I’m not! This isn’t me — it’s her family. They’re the ones—”
“Oh, so her family conveniently sends in an invitation to us to attend their stupid gathering at somehow the right time?”
“I don’t know? Look,” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, not at you, no, but at that darn family. “I told you, I’m not in contact with her. That is the truth. I haven’t spoken to her since—”
“Since when?” you interrupted, stepping closer. “Since you told Shoko you were done? Or since you got caught? Because it feels like right now, I’m finding out the actual truth.”
“That is not the truth, please just list—”
“Stop,” you cut him off. You had had enough. “It’s okay. I don’t know why you think I even care. I ‘don’t belong here’, remember?”
“That’s not what I meant!” he shouted, his voice echoing in the empty hallway.
You stepped back, shaking your head with a sigh. “Don’t follow me.”
“Please,” he pleaded, his voice softer now, desperate. But you didn’t look back as you turned and headed for the courtyard, away from him and his stupid, stupid noble traditions.
──── ୨ৎ ────
The journey to the Southern estate was agonisingly long, but then again, you were from the East, and crossing entire landmarks took more than weeks by unruly waters. After the travel on the Gojo estate’s huge ship, your family was met with a stout, snotty man representing the Kamo clan, in charge of dropping you to their estate by comfortable carriages. The carriage rocked back and forth, and the countryside unfolded before you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to appreciate any of it. Your focus remained on the window, your reflection glaring back at you. Anything to avoid looking at him.
Satoru sat beside you, arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently against the carriage floor. The silence was so oppressive it practically screamed at both of you to make up already. His mother sat across from you, but her usual composed expression faltered slightly as she glanced between you and her son.
After what felt like an eternity, Satoru let out an exaggerated sigh, his head lolling back against the seat. "Are you seriously going to do this the whole trip?"
You didn’t move. “Do what?”
“This,” he said, waving a hand vaguely in your direction. “Acting like I don’t exist.”
“I’m not acting,” you replied coldly. “You’re still breathing, aren’t you?”
He bristled at your tone, his foot tapping faster. “Wow. Real mature.”
You didn’t dignify that with a response, instead shifting slightly in your seat to angle yourself even farther away from him. The silence returned, heavier now, and his mother finally cleared her throat, breaking it.
“Is everything all right?” she asked delicately, her eyes lingering on you longer.
“Yes,” you answered quickly, too quickly. “Everything’s fine.”
Her brow lifted slightly, but she said nothing, her gaze darting to her son. He sat rigid, his jaw clenched as he poked his head out of his own window, refusing to meet her eyes.
“Fine,” Satoru muttered after a beat, as if to echo you. His tone was harsh, though he didn’t look at either of you.
His mother’s lips pressed into a thin line, but she didn’t press further. The realisation seemed to dawn on her that her carefully curated plans for her son’s life — whatever they might be — were starting to crack at the seams.
Satoru’s foot finally stilled, but his irritation hadn’t seemed to disappear yet. After another stretch of unbearable silence, he tried again, his voice softer this time. "Look, I’m not going to apologize for something I didn’t do.”
“Good thing I’m not expecting one, then.”
He groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Can you at least try to meet me halfway here? This is ridiculous.”
You finally turned to look at him. “What’s ridiculous is pretending any of this matters. I shouldn’t even be here, right? So why don’t you just—”
“That’s enough,” his mother cut in, her tone sharper than you had ever heard it. Her gaze pinned you both in place. “We’re almost there. I suggest you both compose yourselves before we arrive.”
You bit the inside of your cheek, retreating back into silence, but not before catching the slight smirk on Satoru’s face. It wasn’t amusement, though — it was frustration barely held in check. He didn’t say another word, leaning back against the seat and staring resolutely at the ceiling as the carriage rocked along. You pressed your lips together and turned back to the window.
That was when you saw it.
The estate loomed in the distance, its dark silhouette framed against the dusky sky. It wasn’t grand in the way the Gojo mansion was. No, this place had an oddly familiar air of foreboding. Its high walls and shadowed towers looked like they were whispering secrets and things long forgotten in history. The closer you got, the more a strange chill settled over you, prickling the back of your neck.
Goosebumps ran down your arms as the carriage rolled closer. The gates opened with an almost eerie slowness. There was billowing mist surrounding the entire area, and it made the scene even more creepy. You couldn’t explain it, but something about this place just felt… wrong. It wasn’t just the estate’s imposing presence or the way the evening light seemed to bend around it — it was something you couldn’t place at all.
You felt like something bad, really bad was going to happen here, or perhaps had already happened. A chill ran down your spine when you recalled the pages of absolute horror you had seen attached to the restricted books in your library, and their vibes seemed to match that of this place.
Beside you, Satoru shifted uncomfortably. You glanced at him for a moment and saw that his confident facade had slipped. His eyes lingered on the estate, as if trying to figure out just what it was that made the place seem so uncanny and unreal, like it was something straight out of a horror novel.
As the carriage came to a stop, his mother stepped out first, poised as ever. She didn’t seem fazed by the oppressive air of the place, but then again, she rarely showed any cracks in her demeanour.
You followed, your legs unsteady as they hit the gravel path. The chill hadn’t left you, clung to your skin. Satoru came last, his usual swagger dimmed.
“Remember,” his mother murmured as the servants approached, her voice low and pointed, “appearances are everything. Do try not to embarrass the family.”
You nodded stiffly, but deep down, all you could think about was how much you wanted to leave this place. Sighing and ignoring the tremble of your gut, you held your own hands and entered the estate.
The estate’s grand entrance hall was vast, its high ceilings decorated with intricate wooden carvings that spiralled into ominous shapes. A line of servants stood on either side, their heads bowed low in synchronised precision. “Welcome to the Kamo estate,” they chanted together, their voices echoing.
A servant stepped forward, addressing Satoru’s father (and not batting an eye to his mother) with an apologetic tone. “We regret to inform you that our — that is, the Kamo clan’s — leaders could not greet you in person. Urgent matters required their immediate attention, but they send their sincerest apologies and look forward to meeting you tomorrow.”
Satoru’s father met his wife’s eyes, and she nodded curtly, and the servant's eyes widened as if he realised the error he made by ignoring her and addressing only the male leader in your group. “It is of no consequence,” she replied coolly.
As the servants moved to escort you all further inside, you couldn’t help but glance around. The estate was undeniably grand, but there was something cold and uninviting about it. The polished marble floors gleamed under flickering chandeliers, and the thick, musty air clung to your skin. It felt more like a mausoleum than a home.
The servants led you through endless corridors, the silence broken only by the sound of footsteps on stone. Every now and then, you passed ornate doors or shadowy alcoves, each one looking more foreboding than the last. You tried to shake the feeling of being watched, but the creeping sensation never left.
Eventually, they stopped in front of a door, and the servant gestured to it with a bow. “This will be your room,” he said before retreating with the others.
You stepped inside hesitantly. The room was smaller, far removed from where they were escorting Satoru now, and you had a feeling his would be uncomfortably close to Alina’s. The room was smaller, colder, and had an air of neglect, as if it hadn’t been opened in years. Dust coated the surfaces, and the faint scent of damp wood lingered in the air. There were faint scratches on the walls as if someone had clawed at them long ago. The wallpaper had started peeling in places, and the furniture looked untouched, as though someone had decided only yesterday to disturb the fifteen year old cobwebs. The architecture, the layout, even the faint smell of mildew — it was unsettlingly familiar, though you couldn’t quite place why.
Satoru’s mother appeared behind you. She took one look around the room, and her eyebrows twitched into a carefully concealed scowl. “Well,” she said. “This is... quaint, to say the least.”
You turned to face her, unsure of how to respond. She gestured vaguely at the room, the bare walls, the dull, muted colours. “If you find this unsuitable, arrangements can be made. I’m sure a clan as proud as Kamo wouldn’t want their guests to feel...” She paused, her lips curling in distaste, “uncomfortable.”
You swallowed hard, shaking your head. “No, mother,” you said, forcing a polite smile. “This is fine.”
Her brow arched, as though she didn’t quite believe you, but she didn’t press. “As you wish,” she said softly, turning on her heel and leaving without another word.
The door closed behind her with a heavy thud, and the silence of the room enveloped you. You exhaled slowly, taking in the sparse furnishings, the musty air. You hated the idea of being a burden, but now, as you sat on the bed, watching it creak loudly, you wondered if you had made a mistake.
Late that night, you lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to get yourself to sleep.
“One sheep, two sheep, three sheep—”
What would he be doing right now? Was he still upset?
“Fuck, lost count again.” You sighed loudly. This was probably the sixth time you had tried but failed to sleep. All because of him. You closed your eyes tightly to try again.
“One sheep, two sh—”
Shit. Nature’s call.
You widened your eyes and glanced at the door, dreading the thought of stepping out into the pitch-black halls of the manor. Your room didn’t even have a washroom, which seemed absurd for a house of this size and considering who it belonged to. Clenching your jaw, you tried to distract yourself from the pressure in your bladder by examining the room, but there was nothing to look at. No paintings, no books, no trinkets — just plain walls and dull furniture.
With a sigh, you finally pushed yourself up, deciding to find a maid to help you find the washroom. You lit a candelabrum sitting next to your bed to help you navigate the area. The hallway was dimly lit, the flickering lights casting eerie shadows across the walls. You tried to stay calm, but every creak of the floorboards beneath your feet made you jump.
You walked, and walked, and walked. The layout of the house was like a maze in itself, and every turn seemed to lead to another identical hallway. Within the span of minutes, you found yourself descending a set of stairs you didn’t remember seeing before.
The air grew colder. The scent of damp stone and decay was thick in your nostrils. You paused at the bottom of the staircase, realizing with a jolt of horror that you were in what looked like the basement of the manor. The little light coming from your candles barely illuminated the space.
A wave of nausea hit you. The place smelled like dead rats, but somehow, despite your lack of sight in the room, a lot of scenes seemed to cross your mind. Shadows in the halls. Muffled screams. The overwhelming fear of being dragged into this very basement to be punished for something you couldn’t understand. Your eyes caught on the walls, and you lifted your candelabrum up and stepped closer. There were faint marks carved into the stone. Tally marks. Dozens of them. Maybe hundreds.
Your hand reached out, trembling, brushing against the ridges. A flash of a memory hit you — your hand gripping a piece of stone fully covered in blood, dragging it across a surface, one line after another. But where had it been? In a classroom, on the board? No — this was something else, something darker. Your stomach twisted, and you stumbled back, the nausea overwhelming.
“Miss?” A voice shattered the silence, and you whipped around to see a maid standing at the top of the staircase. Her face was pale, her brows furrowed, as if you had offended every fibre of her body by stepping down into this basement. “What are you doing down here?”
You opened your mouth to answer, but no words came out. The smell of the basement, the tally marks, the scenes — they clung to you, and you could only shake your head.
“Let me escort you back to your room. You shouldn’t ever be here”
You nodded mutely, following her up the stairs. She led you back through the winding halls. By the time you reached your room, the trembling in your legs had mostly subsided, though the chill of the basement still remained. She opened the door for you, offering a rigid nod before disappearing back into the dark hallways. You stepped inside, closing the door behind you, and exhaled shakily.
Your hands were still trembling slightly as you sat on the edge of the bed, trying to steady your breathing. The scenes — fragmented, disjointed — played on a loop in your mind. What were they? Forgotten memories? Flashbacks? The tally marks, the muffled screams. They were just like something out of your worst nightmares. You buried your face in your hands, feeling the sting of tears prickling at your eyes.
A soft knock at the door startled you. You hastily wiped your eyes, rising to your feet. When you opened it, Satoru’s mother stood there. Her expression softened slightly when she saw you.
“You’ve been crying,” she said matter-of-factly.
“I’m fine,” you said quickly, stepping aside to let her in.
She swept into the room, her gaze flickering briefly to the empty, barren space. “This room is unacceptable,” she said bluntly. But then, as she turned to face you, something in her eyes looked gentler, almost human — something she had always carried around you. “You should have asked for it to be changed, darling.”
You shook your head. “I didn’t want to be a bother. It’s fine, really.”
Her lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, she studied you. Then, to your surprise, she stepped closer, her hands resting lightly on your shoulders. “You’re far too used to accepting the minimal,” she said quietly. “That’s not what you deserve.”
You blinked, startled by the tenderness in her tone. Before you could respond, she leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, her cool hand lingering briefly against your cheek. The gesture was so unexpected, so maternal, that your throat tightened with emotion.
“I will speak to the servants in the morning,” she said, straightening but not pulling away. “And if you ever feel uncomfortable — ever — you will tell me. Do you understand?”
You nodded wordlessly, unable to trust your voice.
“Good.” She adjusted the edge of your sleeve with a small, practised motion, as if tidying you was a second nature for her. “Get some rest. You look exhausted.”
She turned to leave but paused at the door, glancing back over her shoulder. “And whatever it is that has you so unsettled tonight... I will see to it. Do not let it weigh on your mind. The past has a way of creeping into the present, but you are stronger than it.”
The door closed softly behind her, leaving you standing in the middle of the room.
For the first time since you had arrived at the estate, you felt a sliver of comfort.
──── ୨ৎ ────
Over the next week, your efforts to blend in with the household paid off in more ways than one. Most of the maids, initially wary of you as a noble guest, had warmed up to your presence. They appreciated your willingness to help with menial tasks and often joked that you were more reliable than some of their own peers. Soon enough, their dislike for the Kamo family began to slip into their conversations.
It started one evening when you were helping two maids, Haru and Tomoko, carry water from the wells. They spoke in hushed voices, glancing around nervously as though the courtyard’s walls themselves might eavesdrop.
“I’ve always said the Kamo family has skeletons in their closet,” Haru muttered. “Well, in this case, they’re probably in the basement. You’ve seen it, haven’t you?”
You nodded. “I have. It’s disturbing. What were those tally marks on the walls?”
Tomoko sighed, setting her bucket down with a huff. “No one really knows for sure. Some say it’s the number of people tortured down there. Others think it’s the number of people who died. Either way, nothing good ever happened in that place.”
Before you could press further, another maid, Aoi, cut in sharply. She was older, sharper, and rigid. Yet you had watched her pull the buckets back up from the walls with such brute force that it was no wonder she was still working for the clan despite her age. “Enough! You shouldn’t fill her head with stories. She’s a noblewoman; this isn’t her concern.” Her eyes avoided yours, fixed firmly on the stone path.
Haru rolled her eyes dramatically. “Oh, relax, Ms Aoi. She’s not like the rest of them. She’s helped us more than half the family ever has. Why shouldn’t she know what’s really going on?”
Tomoko nodded enthusiastically. “Exactly! And she’s already seen the basement. It’s not like we’re revealing some great hidden treasure. Besides, it’s about time someone outside this house knew what the Kamo family is really like.”
Aoi crossed her arms, her frown deepening. “And what good will it do her to know? The Kamo family isn’t to be trifled with. You’re putting her in danger — and yourselves, too, for that matter.”
You cut in gently, trying to defuse the tension. “I appreciate the concern, Ms Aoi, truly. But if the Kamo family has nothing to hide, then why should talking about it be dangerous?”
Haru smirked. “See? She gets it.”
Tomoko leaned closer, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “Do you want to know what I heard? Years ago, when the punishments in the basement were still happening, the head of the house would personally oversee them. And sometimes…” she trembled visibly. “Sometimes, they weren’t even punishing people who broke the law. Just anyone they didn’t like. Servants who fell out of favour. Merchants who got on their bad side.”
Haru shuddered. “They say the screams would echo up through the floorboards. That’s why most of the older staff refuse to even talk about it. Too many bad memories. There is also the ghost of that little girl—”
“That’s enough!” Aoi snapped. “The girl doesn’t need every grisly detail.”
“Oh, come on, Aoi. You hate them as much as we do. Don’t act like you’re above this.”
“Whether I hate them or not is irrelevant,” Aoi huffed. “You’re still being reckless. If anyone hears about this...”
Tomoko grinned mischievously. “And who’s going to tell them? You?”
Aoi gave an exasperated sigh but said nothing.
That night, you wrote letters to Shoko and Utahime, recounting the strange conversation and the haunting basement. You might have mentioned a glimpse of Satoru, too, though your thoughts on him were far more conflicted.
Shoko’s reply was predictably blunt.
Sounds grim. Torture rooms, tally marks, mysterious deaths — real classic Kamo vibes. Maybe they’re compensating for their family’s lack of charm. But, you know, not my circus, not my corpses. Still, were they tortured with surgical precision? If so, let me know which tools were involved. I’ve got a scalpel set if you want to reenact it. Besides, I’ve always wanted to see how far someone could go with a bone saw and no anaesthetic. For science, of course. Stay alive. Bye.
PS: If you find any good booze down there, bring some back for me.
Utahime’s letter was far less chill.
That two-timing bastard is probably off doing handstands to impress some girl who can't tell her right from left. Honestly, I’m waiting for your mother to tell him the truth already. If he doesn’t start acting like your fiance, I’m going to come over there and bury him in that damn basement myself. If I had to spend more than two breaths in his company, I’d kill him. Actually, I’d kill him for free. Just say the word.
PS: If I didn’t love you, I would’ve told you to go into that basement again just for fun. But I do love you, so stay safe.
The Kamo clan leaders remained an enigma. Somehow, their presence was so secretive that their portraits were absent from every book and document in the library. You wondered if even the servants themselves had seen these people. “Maybe they’re so ugly they’re too ashamed to show their faces?” Shoko had suggested in one letter, and you still snorted remembering that.
From all your time in the estate’s library, you could only find their names — Kamo Daijiro and Kamo Akane. Creepy. You also learned they had two daughters: Alina, the eldest, and her twin who had married into another prestigious family and no longer lived at the estate.
You still hadn’t caught so much as a glimpse of Daijiro or Akane, but that would change soon. A grand gathering was scheduled for the following night, and the maids were already preparing for their arrival in the estate.
──── ୨ৎ ────
The Kamo maids worked on you, dabbing floral scents to your neck and pulling a corsage on your hands. Behind you, Aoi’s hands deftly pulled at the laces of the corset you were reluctantly being tied into. Earlier, an unexpected scuffle had broken out between the Gojo clan maids and the Kamo maids when the latter had shown up, intending to tend to you.
“She’s our priority,” one of the Gojo maids had sniffed, her arms crossed.
“Not anymore,” retorted Tomoko. “She is living in the Kamo residence right now. Your loyalty isn’t required here.”
“Well, she’s from the Gojo clan!” snapped another maid, her tone haughty.
“Yes, and?” Haru shot back. The Gojo maids had given up after a reassuring smile from you, muttering about how they are only leaving because “the Lady asked so”.
Now, Aoi was tugging the corset strings tighter. The conversation had shifted from the petty bickering of maids to something far darker.
“You wouldn’t believe the stories this house holds,” one of the younger maids murmured, a shiver in her voice. “Do you know about the little girl?”
“What girl?” you asked. You hadn’t seen the story of any little girl mentioned in the books you had read, but you had distinctly remember a mention of her story in an earlier conversation with these maids.
“Ms Aoi knows about it best!” Haru exclaimed.
Aoi’s face darkened as she let out a long sigh. “It happened about a decade ago,” she began. “A child had appeared on the doorstep, barely an year old, mind you. The family had taken her in, but of course, they did not treat her like a daughter. They had left her in the care of us servants. I was like her mother,” she said proudly. “She had turned three, I still remember, it was her birthday that night. She spilled a glass of expensive red wine on Lady Akane’s dress. It wasn’t even the girl’s fault. She was just a baby, carrying a tray too big for her tiny hands. But Sir Daijiro… he doesn’t forgive mistakes.”
The other maids exchanged uneasy glances as Aoi huffed loudly, pausing her hands on your laces to wipe stray tears. “The girl was dragged to the basement, where they lock away the disobedient. She… she never came out.”
Your breath caught in your throat. “She was… killed?”
“Yes,” whispered one of the younger maids, her voice trembling. “It’s said her ghost still lingers. Sometimes we hear her cries late at night. And the mist that hangs over the estate? They say it’s her curse — her anger at the clan.”
Aoi nodded grimly. “I was here. I wasn’t much younger than I am now, but I couldn’t do anything to save her. All I could do was sneak her scraps of food and try to mend her torn dresses after… after the punishments.”
You were horrified. “Punishments? For a child?”
Aoi’s tears couldn’t be held back anymore. “She was just a baby,” she croaked thickly. “I’d hear her cry at night, calling for her mother. And when… when…” Haru handed Aoi a cloth to wipe her face. “When she died… it was the moment I stopped believing the Kamo family had any humanity left.”
The room fell silent for a moment, save for the sound of Aoi’s sniffling and your shallow breathing. “How can someone be so cruel?” you murmured.
“That’s why we’re all so terrified,” Tomoko confessed. “If they could do that to a child, what chance do we have? Everyone here walks on eggshells, afraid to make even the smallest mistake. The leaders haven’t changed. They’re still the same people who let that little girl die.”
Aoi’s hands resumed their work, tying the last knot on the corset. The maids stepped back. You glanced at the mirror, seeing not just your reflection but the haunted expressions of the women around you.
The little girl’s story stuck with you, her cries echoing in your mind. If the Kamo clan could be so ruthless to a defenceless child, what horrors could they unleash on those who dared to cross them?
──── ୨ৎ ────
The grand gathering was suffocating. The air was thick with the scent of incense and expensive perfumes, the soft hum of conversation occasionally punctuated by bursts of laughter. You had probably sent about fifty letters in all to Shoko, Utahime and even Geto asking them if they would come to the South, and they all had replied with repetitive no’s. You had tried to keep your head down, avoiding the heavy gazes of the Kamo guests. But you were glad to see that Satoru, for once, was sticking close to you, uncharacteristically quiet. He hadn’t so much as glanced at Alina all evening, and perhaps even all this time during the visit if you were lucky. Not that you cared, of course.
Earlier, when you had overheard his mother asking him to keep his distance from “that Kamo girl”, and you remembered how he had rolled his eyes so hard you thought they would have gotten stuck.
“Fine,” he had said with mock drama. “But only because I’m such an understanding guy. And because I want you to stop looking like you’re ready to shank me with a chopstick.”
Now, true to his word, his focus was entirely on you. Every time you caught him looking elsewhere, it was never in her direction. He had even waved off her attempts to engage him, subtly turning his back to her as though she didn’t exist.
“See?” he murmured, leaning down to your ear. “Haven’t even looked her way. You believe me now, right?”
You arched a brow, unimpressed. “You don’t get points for doing the bare minimum, Gojo.”
“Bare minimum?” he gasped, and you smiled a little. His response reminded you of the ‘old times’, as they were now. “This is maximum effort for me! Have you met me?”
“Hush now, both of you,” his father interrupted. “They’re here.”
The Kamo clan heads arrived, and the air shifted. The room quieted, all eyes turning to the doors as Daijiro and Akane Kamo entered. Their presence was magnetic, commanding. As they moved through the crowd, the guests bowed slightly, parting to make way. You moved your eyes to the carpeted floor. You didn’t want to introduce yourself to someone who would torture a little girl to death, for God’s sake.
But then curiosity overtook your senses. You had been thinking of what they would look like for ages. They were like a mystery you had been picking apart ever since you stepped foot into that basement. Now was finally the moment you would get to see the leaders who hid from newspapers, books and even their own servants. You finally looked up. And the moment you saw their faces, the world seemed to tilt.
Sharp cheekbones. Piercing eyes. Their very presence struck a chord you hadn’t felt in years. Distantly, hauntingly familiar…
Your parents.
“Hush, little baby, everything you need is right here,” your mother cooed, and you walked to where he was leading you. “Yes, that’s it. There are your favourite snacks here, and all your favourite toys. Come on. Go there.”
But you found something else to interest you. Aoi, the maid, was standing right there, watching everything, and you wanted to walk to where she was instead of your bad mother.
“Stupid girl, where are you going?” your father pushed you from behind into the basement, and you fell over its many steps. Falling, falling, falling. By the time you reached the bottom, your face felt hot with some weird liquid.
“This is your new house — for now,” your mother said finally, walking down the steps. “You have given me enough trouble. From the moment I was cornered in that dark alley, alone and frightened, till now — you have been nothing but trouble. You are a constant reminder of what happened to me that night. You shall die, die!”
“There, there, now, Akie,” you watched your father cradle your mother’s head in his chest. You tilted your head, and the force almost made you fall back to the ground. “The child will no longer remain here. I have the most secretive merchants arriving from the North to here. They will be taking this… thing away from us, away from you. And then you shall finally be free.”
The realisation hit like a crashing wave, pulling the air from your lungs. Your vision blurred, and your chest tightened. It was too much. Too much. It was unbearable.
Without thinking, you reached out, your trembling hand finding Satoru’s mother instead of him. Her warm, steady grasp grounded you back to reality, and she turned to you immediately in concern. She studied you for just half a second before realising something was wrong, horribly wrong.
“Come,” she said softly, guiding you out of the hall without a moment’s hesitation.
Satoru’s voice trailed behind you, confused. “Where are you—”
“Stay with your father,” his mother ordered firmly over her shoulder.
Once outside, the cool night air hit your face, and it made you realise the warm wetness flooding your cheeks and stinging at your eyes. She led you to a quiet corner of the garden, still holding you as tightly as possible.
“What’s wrong?” she asked gently, her eyes scanning your face. “Are you unwell?”
The words tumbled out before you could stop them. “They’re my parents.”
Her brow furrowed. “Who are?”
“Them.” You swallowed hard, finally breaking down. “They! They left me. They sold me. I didn’t know their names but… I’ve seen them. They’re…”
Her expression shifted from confusion to horror. You looked at her face. You had never seen a look like that on her ever before. She released your hand only to pull you into a tight embrace.
“You poor thing,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I had no idea. But I swear to you, they’ll never hurt you again. Not while I’m here.”
You cried on her shoulder loudly, and you could feel she was crying softly too. “Why? Am I not worth raising… Mom?” She pulled back slightly, cupping your face in her hands. “Why didn’t they come back for me?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t care what their reasons were. You will be a Gojo soon. It is only a matter of time now. And you will forever, forever, be a part of our family. I will not let the Kamos stain your history, ever.”
You sniffled. From somewhere in the hall, you could hear Satoru’s loud voice, probably causing some kind of scene.
“See?” his mother said softly, trying to distract you. “He hasn’t looked at their girl once, just like he promised. That boy might be infuriating, but when it comes to you, he’s surprisingly reliable.”
A faint smile tugged at your lips.
Satoru’s mother stood behind you. Her fingers were combing through your hair softly, as if to sooth your emotions with her caring rhythm. She adjusted your corset strings next, pulling them tighter, not harshly, but enough to make you focus on the present instead of the roaring panic threatening to take over.
Beyond the ornate doors of the gathering, voices rose and fell. You strained your ears to pick out the words, leaning slightly toward the source. And then you heard it.
A deep, booming voice. The same voice from your nightmares. The one that haunted your memories. Your breath hitched. It felt as though the walls were closing in to suffocate you.
Satoru’s mother’s hands immediately moved to your shoulders to steady you. “Breathe, darling,” she said firmly. “I’m here, am I not? You are safe.”
You nodded, though tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. “I’m trying,” you whisper, clutching the fabric of her dress tightly.
And then, the voice spoke words that made your blood run cold.
“…a marriage between Kamo Alina and Gojo Satoru.”
You froze. Your heart seemed to have stopped. The room seemed to have crashed down onto you. You tried to process what you had just heard. Satoru’s mother stiffened behind you, her hands pausing mid-movement.
“What did they just say?” you whispered.
She didn’t respond, though her head tilted slightly as she listened intently to the conversation happening inside the room. You caught snippets of whispers as noble families exchanged their astonishment at the bold proposal.
Surely, Satoru’s father knows. He knows that Satoru is supposed to be engaged to you.Right?
But then you heard him speak. His voice seemed proud and approving. “An excellent proposal, Daijiro Kamo. This alliance shall strengthen both our families. I accept.”
The words hit you like a slap. Your stomach churned, and for a moment, you thought you might be sick.
“Mom?” you whispered and turned to Satoru’s mother. “Why…?”
Her lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes narrowing dangerously. “That moron,” she hissed under her breath. Her hands fell away from your shoulders furiously. “He didn’t consult me. He didn’t consult anyone except Daijiro. Of course, he didn’t. Men like to think their decisions are final simply because they made them.”
The applause from the other side of the door grew louder. The sound vibrated in your ears as the nobles toasted the ‘union’. Your panic surged again. “What do we do?” you asked desperately.
Satoru’s mother exhaled sharply. “I shall handle it.”
When she threw the doors open roughly, the room fell silent. The silence following her entrance was not mere courtesy; it was submission. Her presence demanded it. Yet Kamo Daijiro, standing near the center with a goblet of red wine in his hand, immediately stepped forward with a smug smile. “Ah, my lady Gojo,” he began, his voice filled with condescension. “I was just about to inform you of the wonderful arrangement your husband and I have come to. My daughter, Alina, will—”
“Will do nothing,” she cut him off coldly.
Daijiro blinked, clearly taken aback by the interruption. “I beg your pardon?” he said with mock-politeness.
“You heard me,” she said, stepping further into the room. Every eye in the room was on her. “You dare discuss an engagement for my son without consulting me?”
Daijiro’s lips curled into a patronizing smile. “With all due respect, Lady Gojo, this is a matter for the men to decide. Your husband and I both agree that this alliance is mutually beneficial. Surely you trust your husband’s judgment.”
She laughed humorlessly. “Trust his judgment? You think I’m going to stand by while you play politics with my son’s life?”
She turned to glare at her husband. Satoru’s father cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable under her piercing gaze, but Daijiro waved him off. “Lady Gojo, your anger is misplaced. This is a matter of strategy. You may oversee the household, but these are decisions of power — something women cannot fully comprehend.”
The room grew deadly quiet now, and Alina seemed to have understood that what her father just said had been a mistake. Satoru’s jaw tightened at the insult at his mother, but he did not say anything yet. You were still frozen in the doorway, but you could feel that he was about to snap at any moment now.
Satoru’s mother’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Women cannot comprehend power?” Every word was pronounced clearly, and she took a single step closer. “You’re standing in my authority. Under my presence. Having begged for my appearance at this folly of an event. And you think I don’t comprehend power?”
“But this is an alliance—” Daijiro started.
“An alliance that disregards my authority,” she interrupted sharply. “An alliance that treats my son like a pawn in your political game of blind chess,” Her eyes flicked briefly to Satoru, who watched the exchange with a furrowed brow.
The room erupted in whispers. The many noble families exchanged shocked glances. Even Satoru’s father looked uncomfortable now, though he didn't dare interrupt.
Daijiro straightened, his tone hardening. “Lady Gojo, I understand you may feel... emotional about this. But this is for the good of both our families. Surely you don’t mean to disrupt an agreement between two patriarchs.”
Her expression darkened further. Without breaking eye contact, she reached for a glass of wine from a nearby tray. In one swift motion, she threw it to the ground, and the crystal shattered into thousands of shards. The sound echoed in the silence.
“The marriage is off,” she declared, her voice unwavering. “Because Satoru already has a fiancee.” She turned and gestured to you, standing awkwardly in the doorway having followed her from outside. “My future daughter-in-law, her.”
The room erupted into chaos. Gasps and furious whispers filled the air. Kamo Daijiro’s face turned a deep shade of red. The Kamo clan, the maids (who were standing outside, peering through the gates you left open, having not been allowed to enter the prestigious ceremony) and leaders alike, looked mortified at her words.
“You cannot be serious,” Akane said through gritted teeth.
“I’ve never been more serious,” she countered.
“You have humiliated my family!” Daijiro growled, stepping closer threateningly.
At this, Satoru stood up, his sword in his hand as he placed himself between his mother and Kamo Daijiro. He tilted the weapon slightly to make sure the threat of blood was sent across to Daijiro, and blocked the way to his mother. Her eyes softened at his action, and she straightened. “This discussion is over. Take your child and leave, Kamo. I will take mine. There is no alliance to be forged here. Gojo clan!” She called to the maids, soldiers and workers of the Gojo clan who had come along with them on the journey. “We shall set off back home right now. Prepare.”
Daijiro stared at her with rage and humiliation. But when he glanced at the sea of judgmental eyes surrounding him, he knew he lost. With a barely concealed snarl, he turned on his heel, motioning for his family to follow.
Satoru fixed his sword back into its scabbard. His mother turned to you, softening again. She rested a hand lightly on your shoulder. “Come. We shall leave this place now, for good this time.”
She led you out of the hall, her grip steady and reassuring, even as the whispers behind you grew louder.
──── ୨ৎ ────
The journey back home felt strangely fast compared to the painstaking crawl southward. Perhaps it was Satoru’s mother’s fiery words that had lit a spark of patriotism among the servants, and maybe even the horses. Whatever the case, you arrived at the Gojo estate far sooner than expected.
You barely had time to set foot inside when Satoru found you. He cornered you in one of the quieter hallways. The first thing you noticed was his face; his usual, easygoing expression was clouded with something you had never seen before.
“Did you know?” he asked.
You blinked, thrown off by the abruptness. “Did I know what?”
“That you’re my fiancee.” The words came out bitter and flat, as if he couldn’t believe he was saying them aloud.
Your breath caught in your throat. You had been bracing for this conversation, but not so soon. Not like this. “Yes,” you admitted after a moment.
He reeled back, as though the admission had physically struck him. “You knew?” His voice rose, echoing off the corridor walls. “How long? How long have you known?”
“A year,” you said hesitantly, feeling guilt rise up in your throat. “I mean… last year, your mother—”
“A year?” His voice cracked, and he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “You’ve known for an entire year, and you didn’t think to tell me?”
“I thought she would tell you,” you stammered. “She said she’d handle it.”
“Well, clearly, she didn’t!” he snapped, spinning to face you again. “So what, you were just going to wait until the wedding invitations went out?”
“That’s not what I meant!” you shot back. “I didn’t even agree to this in the first place. I was just as blindsided as you when she told me!”
“But she did tell you, and you did know,” he repeated coldly. “And you didn’t think I had a right to know?”
“You’re acting like I had a choice!” you said, your voice rising to match his.
“That doesn’t excuse keeping it from me!” he shouted too. “You and my mom — both of you — went behind my back. You made me feel like an idiot standing in that room today.”
“Oh, we made you look like an idiot?” you scoffed. “Why? Because you were actually planning to agree to her proposal? Because you wanted to marry that witch of a woman?”
His eyes widened in disbelief. “Are you serious? I barely even looked at her if I didn’t have to!”
“That was because mother had told you not to!” you countered. “Don’t stand there and question me when you’ve been acting like you have other options.”
“I didn’t know I didn’t have other options!” he shouted. “Because no one told me! The two people I trust the most in this world, you both kept me in the dark!”
You sighed. “Satoru—”
“No,” he cut you off. “Do you have any idea what this feels like? To know that the people you rely on the most didn’t think you were worth the truth?”
“That’s not fair,” you said softly, trying to find the right words. “I was just obeying mother—”
“Obeying mother?” he laughed incredulously. “By lying to me?”
“I didn’t lie!” you snapped. “I just… didn’t know how to tell you.”
“Well, you should have figured it out,” he said bitterly. “Because now, all I can think about is how little I actually know about you. About us. About… anything.”
The air between you felt heavy, suffocating. You wanted to say something, anything to fix the look of betrayal in his eyes, but your mind was blank.
Finally, he shook his head, his voice dropping to a strained whisper. “Look… I’ve never thought of you that way before, okay? You’re… you’re pretty, but you’re like a sister to me. That’s how I’ve always seen you. Nothing more. Nothing less.”
Oh. Of course.
“I need space,” he muttered, stepping back. “I need time to think.”
© chuulyssa 2024 - do not copy, plagiarize or repost my works on any platforms. do not translate.
#prince!gojo ── ★#gojo x reader#prince!gojo#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru#jjk satoru#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo#jjk gojo#jjk#jjk x reader#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo fluff#jjk x you#jjk imagines#jjk fic#gojo angst#gojo#angst#fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo fanfic#clanleader!gojo#clan leader!gojo#prince au#clan au#jjk au
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So, I have this wacky Javert & Cosette detective agency AU idea that I’ll probably never write…
Post-Seine Javert starts a private detective agency — reuniting loved ones, shutting down extortion rackets, stopping forced marriages, things like that. He doesn’t make any money because he fails to collect payment on the rare occasion he’s not working pro bono. [Very Angel Investigations, sans vampires … unless?] The work is both penance and its own reward.
Bored of social calls and society dinners, Cosette decides to help him in his work. Javert refuses her, but she keeps showing up. She proves herself useful, as no one ever suspects her of being a double agent, she’s clever, and she can cry on command — which is an incredibly effective distraction. Since Paris’s underworld is already familiar with him from his previous profession, Javert has had difficulty making progress on some of his cases. But Cosette is entirely unknown. Grudgingly, he allows her to help on his smallest, safest, most respectable cases. Which rapidly escalates into her running the place. He’s really not an ideas man.
There are capers! Escapades! Daring rescues! A heart-warming Christmas episode!
Valjean and Marius are given to believe that Cosette’s time is spent volunteering with ladies aid societies. When the truth comes out, Valjean is apoplectic, and it’s the first real risk to his relationship with Javert (well, post Seine, haha), especially when Javert makes it Cosette’s choice whether to continue. Marius’s anger burns out much quicker; that boy is nothing if not easily led.
Meanwhile, Montparnasse has filled the leadership vacuum left by Thénardier and has made great inroads in the Parisian organized crime scene. With Javert foiling many of his more lucrative business interests, Montparnasse decides it’s time to deal with with him more permanently...
Other odds and ends for this ‘verse:
Javert accidentally adopts some urchins when he attempts to cultivate them as informants, but they keep showing up like stray cats when they realize he’ll feed them.
Having heard it in her tenderest years, Cosette quickly picks up the accent and argot of the street and becomes a mistress of disguise.
She also purchases an umbrella with a stiletto hidden in the handle, which she mostly uses to underline her better rhetorical flourishes.
Whilst Javert is not an easy man to like, Cosette appreciates his honesty. Granted, that honesty is couched in the most pessimistic, condescending and insulting way imaginable. But after her father and her husband gaslighting her for years, it’s a relief to not second guess the information someone gives her.
They both appreciate having someone to commiserate about Jean Valjean’s idiosyncrasies with. “You know the way he clears his throat when he disapproves, but won’t say he disapproves — and if you ask him if he disapproves, he’ll deny it?” “I know it very well!”
After Jean Valjean is finished being furious, he moves right on into being jealous. He wanted them to get along, but not quite this well. He of course would rather eat glass than admit it.
Also, as many of les amis survive as I can reasonably get away with. Definitely Courfeyrac, because I like him. Probably Bahorel, in case they need some additional muscle when working a case. And Joly because they’d need someone with a medical background to identify the cause of death/provide medical aid. Also no one should die with a cold, talk about insult to injury.
Anyhoo. Everybody lives happily ever after with a gentle ’90s TV glow. Fuck you, Victor-Marie Hugo.
#I just think Cosette & Javert would be a very interesting dynamic#cosette#javert#les miserables#les mis
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Oh my God, you mentioned wanting to write a thing about when Starrk finally let's his reiatsu out, and honestly, I've been thinking about that so much!!! Like here is Starrk, who has been keeping his reiatsu down to around average, who sleeps all the time, so doesn't stand out, who stands beside Ichigo, Ichigo who crazy stands out, also Starrk who joins the 4th, the 4th who everyone else considers to be weaklings!! You imagine the look on everyone's face the first time he let's lose!?! Maybe some bullying goes too far, and Starrk, who nobody thinks much of, just smacks them down hard!!! And everyone is like WTF lol 😆
sorry, I just love the idea of when people realize that Starrk is actually strong like Ichigo!! So 😁 funny!! Anyway, thanks for sharing your thoughts about this. I love reading them.
Lol yes it's one of those scenes that you see happen in so many different ways and all of them would be fun. I'm undecided on how I want to do it Officially so I'm putting it off (or maybe I'll just write several of them lmao).
I imagine it would have to be very serious bullying for Starrk to take that much action, cuz like he really isn't the sort to step in for every little thing. If it happens to someone he considers one of his, he might note it down and then quietly go and prevent it from happening again from behind the scenes, but in real time, he'd rather diffuse the situation or leave it to the "victim" to handle it and only step in if it looks like they really can't, and even stepping in would just be a sharp word or two to run the bully off. He's not a straightforward bleeding heart the way Ichigo is, cuz the hit-the-problem-so-it's-no-longer-a-problem method is def Ichigo's go-to strategy, he would absolutely smack the shit out of someone bullying Asuka or Rangiku in front of him and be done with it right then and there, prob flaring his reiatsu without even meaning to cuz his control's a lot better these days but it's also kind of 0 to 50, well-hidden or flashing neon sign, no in-between unless he really concentrates 😂 It's another reason Starrk would have little reason of his own to act, cuz like Ichigo would absolutely beat him to it.
For me, I could prob imagine him unleashing his reiatsu/revealing his strength if someone's about to die and the threat is big enough that he actually has to flex. He's just not someone who'd easily show what he can do, and hiding it from the likes of Aizen and the Quincy wouldn't even be his top reason. It's more like lingering PTSD--his strength doesn't bother him anymore now that he's had years of proven control under his belt, and he's even needed every last bit of his power over the past decade of war, but subconsciously, he's still not 100% comfortable with just letting anyone feel it, even tho he has enough control now that it wouldn't hurt them unless he wants it to because what if? So like, his first instinct will always be to keep it locked down, and for minor stuff (altho minor is relative for him I guess lolol), pulling out that much power is def a last resort.
Again, it contrasts what Ichigo would do. Ichigo's just used to overkill. Like even before he got his powers, he learned that an overwhelming show of strength would solve most of his gangster-related problems very easily, plus he lived in a household where Isshin only backed off from kicking him into a wall or something by kicking first or kicking back. And then after he got his powers, it's not even really his fault that he internalized a "might is right" kind of mindset /points at the entire fucking SS invasion arc and honestly every arc after that/. And also he spent his first years of Shinigami-ing running around with an unsealed Zanpakutou and zero reiatsu control, being in a constant state of Shikai is natural for him, and (moving into this AU's headcanon territory) it took him several months into the Quincy War before he finally learned to seal it away and actually have other ways of fighting that isn't just flinging Getsuga Tenshous around. He uses Bankai the way other people use hand-to-hand combat or Kidou spells, so even now, his first instinct is to just hit the problem hard enough so that it won't get back up to do more harm, and for him, that applies to everything from schoolyard bullying to fighting monster-gods. And on top of all that, his actions are largely driven by emotion. More than anything else, his first reflex is to protect, and that often leads to him throwing way more power at a threat than he actually needs to. He knows how to be more subtle these days, but it's not his preferred method and def not a reflex either the way it is with Starrk.
Of course, Starrk also understands "might is right" just by dint of being a Hollow, but he's basically spent a thousand years as someone too strong for anyone to fuck with just by existing, so he doesn't have the same kind of exposure to physical conflict that Ichigo grew up with that would make violence his first instinct.
Aanndd omg this ran away from me lmao sorry, you get a speedrun analysis on Starrk and Ichigo instead 😅
TLDR I'm still not sure of any exact scenarios that would force Starrk to show his hand, I don't want to wait until a Sternritter shows up or a final showdown vs. Aizen happens because that would take forever before we get there (I mean I could just jump right in there since this isn't a whole fic, but in-universe-timeline-wise, I'd prefer it happening earlier), but it's difficult for me to imagine that something in everyday life or even just a Hollow extermination mission would be enough to make him reveal even a bit of what he can really do.
Case in point, if you remember that mission in SP canon where Shunsui brings Ichigo and Rangiku along on a mission into the Rukongai to gain experience, and Ichigo sees a Hollow about to attack Shinji who hadn't spotted it yet, but he also didn't want to leave Rangiku unprotected, he went straight for unsealing his Zanpakutou and basically hand-delivering a shopping list of unusual or downright unique abilities to Aizen via Gin. In this AU, if Starrk goes along, he would never do such a thing, and in fact, he'd stop Ichigo and just fire a damn Byakurai or something across the clearing and kill it that way. Even if Ichigo doesn't have the finesse to pull off a low-numbered Kidou spell on the fly, he could've chosen a higher-numbered one and that would've still revealed far less to Aizen than unsealing his Zanpakutou would. But again, subtlety isn't his strong suit. He now at least has the presence of mind to think about the consequence of leaping into the fray without thought, it would leave Rangiku wide open, but his first instinct is still to use overwhelming strength to protect the people he cares about.
In contrast, Starrk may be a soft touch compared to basically every other Hollow and quite a few Shinigami, but he has the maturity and just the general personality to go for the strategic option. He has a far more tactical mind, implied even in canon to rival Shunsui in that department, so rushing in just isn't in his nature.
The only other way imo is if someone just... asks. Reikaku (reiatsu-sensing) is a thing Shinigami learn. In canon people can sense exactly who's coming just by their reiatsu (if they know them), not just if they're a Shinigami or a Hollow or even a Human, but it doesn't really expand on how. So I imagine you have to have a good feel for the person's reiatsu, it's the same as my age headcanon for reiatsu, not only can someone halfway decent at sensing reiatsu be able to get an idea of the other person's age, they would also be able to recognize and associate that reiatsu signature with that person since everybody's is different, but obviously they would have to be exposed to it a few times to learn it. Starrk's reiatsu is very unique so once or twice would be enough, and I can see a situation where the kids might ask to feel it for that reason, or a mission might require the team leader to ask, etc. etc. So yeah, that's all I got.
#man this got long i'm sorry#and vaguely off-topic???#bleach#coyote starrk#kurosaki ichigo#ichigo & starrk time travel verse
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Marauders fanfic writers: Does ANYONE want to co-write and/or edit a fic with me?😭 IM BEGGING I NEED ASSISTANCE! I have zero marauders friends who are fanfic writers and my one friend who’s in the marauders fandom doesn’t like non canon AU’s so I can’t ask for her opinion on it..
I have so many ideas for this fic and for the flow of it and I think it could be really great if I could get out of my own head and see it from someone else’s perspective because I think all my writing is too trash to publish and I’ll be too scared to post it.
I think this fic is the best idea I’ve ever had for a fic but im too worried about my writing being mediocre and I think if I had some assistance from someone (around my age) who’s in the fandom and likes reading/writing.
Anyone around the ages 16/17/18/19 who likes writing and reading
Much appreciated if you are willing to help 💜
#dead wizards from the 70s#marauders au#marauders#marauders era#marauders fandom#marauders fanfic#marauders fanfiction#marauders fic#archive of my own#wolfstar#wolfstar fanfiction#jegulus fanfiction#jegulus#james potter#remus x sirius#remus lupin#sirius black#regulus black#barty crouch jr#sirius loves remus
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Isekai Yandere Strawhats CH II
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The book stayed on her mind for the next few days. Everywhere she went, it felt like someone was watching her. Y/n found herself rereading the letter and the book whenever she was free. She went over every page and squinted to see if she could find a hint of something more. Her mind kept wandering to the possibility of a connection between Open Your Mind, whoever N.R was, and her journey.
From the characters to the feeling of fate, the world-building was all familiar but new. She wanted to believe it was just her imagination, but there was a lingering thought of ‘what if’.
What if the author of this silly little book had experienced the same things she did? As she lay in bed, looking at the ceiling, the letters from Law she reread for the nth of times on her nightstand, she began feeling a sliver of excitement.
The letters had been so cryptic, yet so hopeful. The steps she needed to open the portal were clear enough but from the letter from ‘L’ she believed there to be something more to the story. There must be something she was missing.
The instructions had said she needed to wait for a “month of stabilizing” before attempting to open the portal, the truth was, the thought of really meeting Law again, seeing them all again, filled her with an intoxicating mixture of excitement and fear.
She let out an angry huff at herself there was nothing truly to be excited about, especially when there was a letter from a random ‘L’. The random letter could have been from Luffy and the crew, but, thinking of that world that she once knew, when everything was still shiny, new, and exciting her heart couldn’t help but skip a beat.
She sat up from her bed quickly heading to the kitchen huffing and puffing like a 1940s cartoon character. She’d moved on, hadn’t she? She had a whole new life now—-closer than ever to family and friends—-but how could one forever truly forget the magic of that world?
That feeling of belonging, the constant adventure without the worry of assignments, money, etcetera. The strawhats were her fantasy that jumped off the page and Law jumped right into her heart. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the teapot boiling.
She hummed pouring the water into her cup anticipating the camomille to calm down her brain. With the cup in her hand, she quietly padded through the hall back to her room to see her phone dimly lit up.
A text.
Have you started?
Her heart skipped a beat. She glanced at the calendar—April was nearly halfway through. “ Shit.” She whispered. Time was ticking faster than expected she needed to get moving. But where would she begin?
How could she be 100% sure that the portal would work? What happens if Law isn’t on the other side? She felt overwhelmed and quickly sipped the tea to calm herself. “Thank god for camomille,”
She briskly typed back:
I need a little bit more time but I’m working on it.
Don’t Worry.
The warm tea soothed her nerves as she began writing down her plans for the next week when she realized she had no idea who the text was from. She sighed and rubbed her eyes, the weight of the decision hanging heavy on her chest.
There were too many unknowns for this not to be too good to be true. The number of unforeseen variables was enough to send her right to bed that night, leaving her teacup half full.
She dreamt of them. The smell of the sea air, the wind flowing through her and Nami’s hair as they picked tangerines, the chaos that raved through the boat. Although brief, that world had been hers too, The strawhats scared the shit out of her but the bliss of that dream had fully made up her mind before she was even lucid.
Y/n was returning to the world of OnePiece to finish what she started.
The last few weeks of April and the early days of March were filled with study sessions, late-night preparations, and endless questions that made the back of her throat itch. Y/n made sure to follow every step diligently: no electronics at night, keep the curtains open during the day, and ensure that the mirror stays spotless.
But the anxiety never truly left her, no matter what tea she drank or what she did to distract her restless mind.
Despite the lingering doubts, she knew it was only a matter of time before the portal opened. One night after the other, when she knew her mother was asleep and the house was quiet, she stood in front of the mirror.
Making sure it was pristine and hoping to find out which ‘L’ was waiting for her on the other side. Her fingers hesitated to brush against the glass, and for a second, she wondered if this was all a dream and she would wake up in a psych ward.
On Thursday, March 7th, she felt the hum of power in the air. The little hairs on her neck stood tall and the moon was full shining through her window. She bit her lip till it almost bled and closed her eyes, just as instructed, visualizing the portal opening.
The seconds dragged on, each one stretching over what felt like the course of a thousand years. She opened her eyes and saw…nothing. Her reflection was the same as it always has been.
But just as she was about to give up, there was a flash of light, and the mirror flickered like an old television screen. Y/n gasped as the image distorted, and for the briefest of moments, she thought she saw something—or someone—on the other side.
A face.
Trafalgar Law.
Her heart raced, her palms clammy with anticipation. She reached out, hand trembling as she touched the mirror once more. The surface felt different now, softer, warmer. There was a crackle of energy, and she heard a faint voice.
“You did it.”
It was Law's voice, unmistakable. Her breath caught in her throat as she took a step forward.
🏷️: @angstylittleb1tch @thepinktiredfreak @littleplantofdeath @chipster-321 @wguvudqhij @elektraeriseros @virgocathaunted @zola-exp
A/N: Idk how long you’ve waited but I hope this was worth the wait and IYLSM FOR WAITING !!!!😭 🫶🏽🫵🏽
#x black fem reader#one piece#one piece imagine#isekai yandere strawhats#isekai one piece#luffy x black reader#isekai yandere#one piece oneshots#one piece angst#trafalgar d law x reader#trafalgar one piece#trafalgar d water law#traflagar law#trafalgar law x black reader#one piece sanji#robin one piece#one piece zoro#straw hat pirates#isekai x reader#Isekai onepiece
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Bravo to you for choosing not to let Rem be forgiven so easily. Honestly I've never been a big fan of Rem as a character, sometimes her endless pandering and obsession with subaru just really annoys me instead, and I've never understood people looking at her doing all that and then saying “Wow that's so hot I'm so jealous of Subaru!”
As for the ones who want her deeds to be easily forgiven by everyone, my personal guess is that they all only care about her body and the unheathy way she forces herself to act like the perfect waifu just for Subaru's sake, but subconsciously they can't stand the shit she did either, so they secretly want their favorite waifu to be a perfect being without flaws. But to me, isn't it essential to love a character and accept their flaws as well? They did wrong things, but there's no doubt THEY did them anyway, and that is part of what makes them who they are. Another thing is that forgiveness has to be earned, we're not cruel, coldhearted, or closeminded for not forgiving someone who hurts us. So I too agree with that anon who thinks WHDAA cast need to to beat some sense into Subaru on way too forgiving and tolerating the people who have hurt/killed him.
But now that you've decided to do that, beware of those rabid Rem stans coming after you and I'm worried that their harassment goes overboard and affects your personal life
I will say — I believe that Rem and Subaru’s canon dynamic is one of the most intriguing and multifaceted dynamics in the entire series. Their parallels regarding their insecurities and family members, their mutually codependent tendencies, the way they run the risk of becoming each other’s perfect enablers, the genuine sense of love and affection that runs parallel to the unintentional toxicity fostered within their relationship — it’s all really interesting stuff. In fact, exploring their dynamic through the lens of outsiders (including amnesiac!Rem) finally getting to peer under the hood is one of the main reasons I wanted to write a react fic at all.
As for why people like her — honestly, I think it’s kinda easy to guess? She’s a very cutely designed anime girl, she’s incredibly well-voiced, her insecurities are genuinely relatable, she’s got a super awesome oni power-up transformation, her morning star lends itself to some of the best choreographed action scenes in the series (or at least Season 1), she appeals to the whole “submissive maid” aesthetic that she knows Subaru finds attractive (and that also appeals to the target demographic of Re:Zero specifically, let’s be real here) — and frankly, there are so many scenes in anime where characters we’re supposed to like do fucked up shit that it’s not difficult to just…gloss over the whole “tortured the mc for several hours” part of her character. It’s understandable, especially if you’re not an insane person who spends all their time hyperanalyzing the anime they’re a fan of like I am. I don’t think it’s really that far of a leap for her to develop such a massive following, she was basically designed to be as popular an anime waifu as physically possible.
But then, that clash can become…a little uncomfortable if you’re writing a story where “Rem tortures Subaru” is a major plotpoint, and if you don’t want to reevaluate their entire relationship, it makes sense to find a way to just — get the characters to move along, much like a lot of the irl audience does.
But I really like toxic characters and angst and complicated relationships and all that fun stuff, so that’s what I’m gonna focus on. —Also Rem is WORSE in the LN. Girl starts fantasizing about whisking Subaru away while he’s practically comatose from shock (second Arc 3 loop) and then also makes a comment like “even if he had tried to assault her in her sleep, she knew she never would have resisted” like GIRL??? The idea of not tapping that insane well of potential drama is ludicrous to me lmaoo— especially because I really don’t care about maintaining the status quo ;)
(Also frankly, anyone who would start seriously harassing me over whether or not I share their opinion about a fucking anime girl is too pathetic for me to care about. I honestly don’t think I’ll get that big of a response — especially not on Tumblr “Gay Website” Dot Com — but even if I do…I don’t care, lmao.)
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Keep you safe and keep you dreaming
hi friends! wrote a quick lil sickfic for ficwip's 1000-word challenge (write a fic with exactly 1000 words) that doubles as a gift to my no-longer-sick friend @anxietybard!! thank u to @toweroftunes for the beta!! pls give it a read under the cut or on AO3 <3
She hates when he’s sick, and he can’t help feeling guilty about it.
Soul tosses another tissue into the trash-can heap, watching as it tumbles down the mound of bunched-up microbes and nestles itself against the rim. He lets out a sigh that is noisier than usual, mucus corroding the sides of the exhaust pipe that is his throat.
He understands the root of her discomfort, of course. It’s not so much the present cough and sniffles as it is the memories it brings back. It’s the past that eats at her soul, for lack of a better word. Because when he’s sick, she makes herself sick with her own consumption, her own acidic bile of regrets. He knows what she sees, when he’s lying in his own bed in the apartment: the Soul of ten years prior, bedridden and feverish in an infirmary cot, looking like the first cut into an ultra-rare steak.
He tries to remember this, to empathize with this, when she’s being the way she is now, three hours deep into a WebMD rabbit hole and shoving both remedies and conspiracies in his face.
“An orange is a perfectly reasonable thing to eat when you’re sick!” she’s saying from the foot of his bed, holding a plate with a full-on pyramid of them balanced in her left hand, the other hand defensive on her hip.
“S’not the idea of oranges that’s unreasonable, it’s the fact that you’re giving me twelve ,” he grits out. He wants to lie back dramatically, but he’s too clogged up to do so.
Many moons ago, he would’ve thought of the orange onslaught as a thinly-veiled attempt to keep Blair out of his room, having heard way too many warnings and factoids about cats and their aversions to citrus over the years. As if on cue, Blair yells out a grateful “Thaaank you~!” from the living room, her keen nose having registered the oranges’ absence.
Years prior, Blair would have been way too happy to ‘play nurse’ for him in his vulnerable state - something that had always irked Maka, obviously. To be fair, he sort of feels like having someone lie in bed with him might be pretty helpful for his recuperations, though he has a strong first choice for this assignment, and it certainly has never been Blair.
“Twelve oranges might be good for you!” Maka insists, pinking in the cheeks at his mental suggestions. Their link is always more open when he’s sick; it takes too much effort to keep his walls up that he doesn’t want to expend, and all she usually hears is vague sniffling and doom-and-glooming, so. “Besides,” she adds, suddenly serious. “Scurvy’s making a comeback.”
“You think I have scurvy? ”
“I’m just saying that an orange or twelve couldn’t hurt!” she exclaims, moving to place the plate on his bedside table. He snatches his phone off its charger just in time to avoid death by Annoying Orange, and makes good use of it to pull up the symptoms for scurvy.
As he scrolls, he starts to grin. “Hah. Maybe I caught it from you.” At her curious glance, he adds: “Apparently one of the main symptoms of scurvy is being chronically irritable.”
She huffs, rolling her eyes at him as she exits. Guilt renewed, he sends out an apology on the airwaves, one that she meets with a brush of mental fingers.
M’not going anywhere, okay? he thinks, sending the words through the gap in the door, a love letter. Promise.
There’s a sound like a sigh in her soul, followed by a montage of emotions. An old, deep, burning fear. An undying flame, smothered by time, suddenly reborn. And then - relief. Comfort. And then… guilt of her own, for being the one who needs the comfort.
Go sleep s’more , she thinks back, voice growing weaker as she heads deeper into the house. I’ll be here when you wake up.
The reciprocal I promise that she tacks on is a mere whisper of a thought, but he hears it nonetheless. It’s an effective anesthetic, lulling him into a nap.
He dreams of orange peels and dark cathedrals, the old ache across his ribs tugging at something still-unhealed in his psyche.
When he awakes, it’s to a new smell - a bowl of chicken soup, steam rising and catching the late afternoon sunlight through his window. Next to it, a cascade of saltine crackers arcs along the accompanying plate. A mug of tea sits at its side, steaming slightly as well. The oranges are still there, moved slightly back. She’s left him a tiny space on the table for his phone to sit, which he sheepishly plugs in.
He reaches out for the soup and takes a sip, the ache in his chest slightly soothed. He smiles a little, savoring it, taking in the quiet of the room, the way the steam clears his head, opens his sinuses.
Once he’s almost done, the door clicks open - she’d felt him wake up, of course.
“Is it okay?” she asks.
“S’delicious,” he says, clearing his throat a little.
“Good,” she says, business-like, taking the empty bowl and placing it on the table. And then, slightly less businesslike: “Can I come in?”
He looks up at her, gaze soft as he takes in her embarrassment, as if they haven’t been doing this for years. “Duh.”
She lifts the comforter and clambers in, getting settled and resting her head on his chest.
“You sure you wanna stay?” he asks after a few minutes, poking at her shoulder. “Might get sick.” “S’worth it,” she mutters, ducking her head. “Besides. I’ve had plenty of vitamin C.”
“You sure?” he asks. “Got some oranges I could lend you.”
She scoffs in response, squeezing at his side.
For the rest of the afternoon, they lie wrapped in each other, comforted by the fact that, amidst the steam and the scent of oranges and the promise of not going anywhere - that suddenly, it’s slightly easier to breathe.
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I love him, and I love to hate him! Gin is a really wonderful villain. He's extremely skilled, extremely perceptive, and able to hold in that he knows something until the right moment — unlike a certain protagonist we know who just has to blurt out his deduction the moment he has it.
Example: Gin knew when Sherry was hiding in the fireplace — because he could hear her breathing! — but let her think she had escaped so that he could learn more about the situation and better confront her later. How many other times has Gin actually known more than he's let on? When Conan was hiding in the locker, did Gin really just coincidentally decide to stop looking right then — even with Conan breathing heavily right there?
Does Gin really forget the names and faces of the people he's killed? If yes, that's kinda cool in its own evil-zen way (and lol at the tag: #go ruthless guy with face blindness and shitty memory <3). But I also wonder if he really was being 100% serious when he said that, or if this is just another example of him being more aware of the situation than he's led us to believe.
Gin is also so so so horny to be an assassin. He's absolutely found his calling in life. He's got the classic car and the black trenchcoat and the long hair draped over the black trenchcoat because he doesn't even need to be subtle. And he's got the gun and the cigarettes and the cigarette lighter from his classic car and the cigarette smoke in the noir shadows... And he's gotten ever more impatient and homoerotic as the series has gone on. Which on the one hand is awesome, but on the other hand makes me a little bit worried that such a cool character as Gin is in danger of becoming flanderized for the sake of senselessly hot violence. He can maybe have a bit of senselessly hot violence sometimes, as a treat. Or as a character flaw, ooo, that would be awesome. But I think Gin would generally be much more into sensibly hot violence.
Example: Gin caught an FBI agent, stuffed his gun into the FBI agent's mouth, and asked the FBI agent if he'd be willing to spill the secret location? The FBI agent unintelligibly went murfmumrmah with the gun in his mouth. And Gin goes, hm? not willing to talk huh? And then Gin shoots the FBI agent dead.
Either: 1) it's a plotpoint that, actually, Gin doesn't need the secret location and this was all a ruse just for some sadistic fun! (hot and sensible, very good, yes). Or 2) Gin really does need the secret location but he got too horny to hold himself in check (hot but not very sensible and might veer into out-of-character territory if he does this sort of thing too often without it being addressed in some way!)
Like, this easily could be a flaw, and he has made other mistakes in the past that could be attributed to horny impatience (example: he made extremely predictable choices when ensuring the death of someone he really wanted to see dead). But if Gin keeps messing things up by being too horny, it's a bit weird that Vodka never comments on it (hey Aniki, are you sure that was a good idea?), it's never an issue for him, etc etc.
Gin messing up due to horniness is at odds with his other characterization of being so extremely perceptive and competent. He's also sadistic, yes, but you can't just throw his other characterization away for the sake of a sadistic scene. Unless you are writing it that way very much on purpose!! If written well, this would make Gin more complex and probably hint at the mode of his future downfall. But if written poorly, it could make Gin lose the cool characterization he had before.
So, ultimately, Gin is a character I love enough to worry that he might get flanderized! :X
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Kudo is actually such a kind, soft-hearted guy that had to toughen up because he cared too much
He looked at AFO's rule, and even though he was weak, he had that glint in his eye that has been referred to as the "will of a hero" to oppose him. A hopeful glint shared with Midoriya, Bakugo, and Hawks
He even parallels Hawks when they talk about that particular look in their eye
From a glimmer in the eye, to which eye is shown, how much of the face, a similar angle of the face, and placement of text questioning the existence of that light,
He stormed to kill Yoichi with Bruce, but couldn't, once he saw the state Yoichi was in. Even knowing he was the enemy, he still reached out his hand and never let go, even when they were running
When Yoichi died, even though they'd only been together for two months, Kudo still cried and froze up.
This is a reaction from a man who repeatedly used lives as a stepping stone for his own goal.
Kudo said himself, that victory was life, and defeat was death. He had killed and seen his friends killed over and over, but still cries when it happens again. And to someone he only knew for two months, at that.
Kudo gathered allies under his cause, and they were loyal enough to die for him. Bruce cries (still smiling tho) facing AFO, tried protecting Kudo when he froze up at Yoichi's death, and we see all Kudo's comrades dead in the end. Maybe Bruce was suicidal when he went to face AFO, knowing he'd die, but most of his comrades (and Kudo) were already gone. Their cause was snuffed out, but the will persisted.
Kudo is a bit like Aizawa.
A bit crass and blunt, doesn't like beating around the bush, but he can clearly see what kind of person you are. He's not openly kind, but you know he cares so much, but has also lost too much once. He's seen his friend(s) die, and shouldn't it have been him in that spot? Shouldn't he have died instead, but was forced to continue living for that dead person's sake?
His speech about why we call Abilities "Quirks", recognizing people's intent over raw power is the real power. (Ch 369)
He's blunt and goes straight to the results rather than beat around the bush, but it doesn't mean his heart is frozen and he doesn't care about you. (Ch 408)
He cares so much, and that's why he has to do so much. (His whole Resistance thing, figuring out how Yoichi's Factor works to make sure Yoichi and his will can live on in some way)
He recognizes that Midoriya isn't driven by duty, but that he genuinely adores Quirks too much. (Ch 414) He could look at Midoriya, read that immediately, and even though he looked through his memories, Midoriya's character was his takeaway. Not that Midoriya is an idiot for letting himself be stepped on, or that this kid was bullied, but that Midoriya could see the goodness in others.
Like how Aizawa saw that Midoriya was relying on the reason [It can't be helped] whenever OFA broke his bones and told him he can't always break himself just because he could be fixed (Midoriya's recklessness that showed itself on the first day of school). He called out something that was an underlying, innate belief to Midoriya, that was so normal to the teen, and no one else had brought up as wrong to him.
The first thing they perceive is a person's character.
When Aizawa tied up Midoriya on the first day of school, he wasn't telling him off over his Quirk destroying him being a PR thing or too gruesome for the public. It was out of the fact that his Quirk shouldn't destroy him, because it's dangerous for Midoriya.
Aizawa came off antagonistic, but he was looking out for Midoriya. He didn't want him to keep breaking his whole arm, he didn't want him to get stuck in the mindset that he had to get hurt to use his Quirk, he was looking out for his wellbeing from the start. A kid he didn't know personally until that day.
Kudo did a similar thing. He turned his back, and refused to help, because they were putting their hopes in a delusional boy who would go too far. When the vestiges realized their gathered Abilities and Quirks were letting Midoriya have the freedom to do as he wished, Kudo already knew, only saying "His path is the right one". He could relate to having to run full-sprint to see your goal realized, even if everything opposed him, but didn't want Midoriya to go through that same path alone.
If he were alone, he'd be like Nagant. He had to have comrades to be like Kudo, able to continue and stand for their beliefs, but having comrades to fall back on, or pull him back when it's too much. That's why he follows up in that moment with, "But, if there's something Midoriya does need..."
Kudo and Aizawa could see themselves or their comrades in others, and knew how to approach those character flaws that were normalized to others and said person.
Kudo could see others for who they were, and I think it's this, and his caring nature, that he gathered so many allies with him. He knew when to be blunt, when to show kindness, that the truth hurts but needs to be seen, was actually very logical and witty, and when to step aside and let people do their thing, even if it wasn't the best move (like saving All Might). Because that was what was best for that person.
It's not like people would join someone so wholeheartedly without conviction and being left unseen by that person. So many people were willing to die with and for Kudo, and Bruce believes in him so much.
When All Might's vestige was fading and becoming more solid, Kudo had to look away. They knew it meant All Might was dying in the real world.
Kudo was telling Midoriya not to intervene with Gearshift there. But once he saw All Might genuinely dying out, he couldn't look at him, and kept quiet. He stopped hanging onto battlefield logic of necessity, shut up, let Midoriya do his thing, and it saved All Might. It saved Midoriya from seeing his idol die in front of him, and Kudo didn't have to see another ally die beside him.
The chapter is literally called [We Love You All Might!!]. Even if it's just meant to focus in Bakugo and Midoriya, and only has 2 exclamation marks, it can't discount the world is watching. The vestiges care about All Might too.
When the vestiges come up with the plan to forcibly transfer themselves to deal damage, Kudo volunteers himself as the test dummy. Sure, he backs it with a lot of reason too, but he didn't want anyone else to go first as a test drive
He, with a Gearshift Ability that resembled a manual car, was the test drive. Ha ha pun- *gets shot*
En tried going first. Kudo rejected him, saying he would go first.
"Part ways with Gearshift [me], and you'll be free of the crippling recoil too."
Too. TOO.
KUDO JUST WANTED TO GO AND BE DESTROYED FIRST. HE PUT THE FREEDOM OF RECOIL DOWN AS AN EXTRA BONUS SO THEY'D AGREE WITH HIS CHOICE.
I'd cut the image so it looks better, and I can use Bruce's words elsewhere, but this is an image limit, so,
- Kudo refused to let anyone else go first. This was before giving reasons to convince them he should leave first
- En gives reason to why it can't be Kudo. Kudo just says, "Listen." and reminds them of now.
- Look at Kudo's face when he says that. The guy knows what he's doing when he cuts off En, and would probably be a horrible liar. He might as well be pulling this out of his ass.
He's said "The world will end" "You have to or else" "Five minutes" "You're going to die" a few times in this fight already. DUDE STOPPP
(Terrible liar and a guy who purposely eggs you to torment? What a great friend he would be [yknow, when u make ur friends freak out by being ominous or reminding them of stuff. Like Toast to Lilypichu in a game of Observation Duty])
- "Too."
- Bruce's trust in him, but knowing when to pull Kudo back from going too far
Also, when he's transferred, he smiles to Midoriya. He knows he's about to die again, but the last thing he does for Midoriya is
1) Take away the recoil of his existence as a Factor on the boy
2) Reassure him that it's okay, so it doesn't weigh on his conscience
Even if only in thought, STILL!
KUDO LOOKED SO PROUD OF MIDORIYA!
I bet Kudo is suuuch a sentimental fool
> [Be me and watch your new friend die]
> [I have Yoichi's Factor]
> [It's like I carry his will now]
> [Have a glint of opposition in my eye that drives the Demon Lord and my comrades (Bruce) crazy]
> [Hey Bruce, let's figure out how it transfers]
> [Bruce's common sense VS my rabid ideas]
> [I win]
> [Bruce was unwilling the whole time and still ends up with the Factor]
> [The Factor is named One For All, after something in Yoichi's favorite comic book series]
> [We pass it on to the future to carry forward]
> [Even as everyone else and me dies, I make sure Yoichi and his will are safe from his Demon Lord brother that locked him up]
> [Decades later, my sweet vaulted friend reminds me of when we met]
> [I turn around and give my whole-hearted support to believe in some 15-year old boy because Yoichi believes in him too]
SEN - TIM - ENT - AL!
When Shinomori was stolen by AFO, Shinomori pushed everyone away before they could really notice the invader. Kudo called out for him.
Everyone is in shock, but I don't think it's a mistake that the text bubble calling out for Shinomori is pointing from Kudo.
All For One made it through and is ready to steal them, but the first thing Kudo did was call out for the one at the very front.
[On the post I made that mentions Shinomori pushing everyone away] What if Kudo wasn't pushed away? What if this was him at the front, realizing the danger and turning around, but being unable to do anything for Shinomori when he saw?
Like Bruce, Kudo communicates. He doesn't expect you to just follow or understand him. He actually lays it out and makes sure you keep up.
He explains
- the transfer of vestiges, and why he should go first
- his Quirk
- why Quirks are Quirks
- reports to Midoriya what's happening and what's next
- to Yoichi why they couldn't trust in a delusional boy. In a way that wasn't Bruce's roundabout "we lived in a terrible era and a leader gathered us"
When En panics, he barks at En to keep up. By barking at him, rather than any other way he could've used his tone, it shuts up En in his frantic babbling. Kudo also lets Vestige Might put in his thoughts to understand better, and uses it.
Eye reflection. Kudo can really see people for who they are, and understands others, and himself.
I can't repeat the pics cuz image limit, but look at previous panels here. For example, Kudo saying Yoichi's will lives in him, and when AFO reflected in his eyes
It's something I learned from Re:Zero. When a person in reflected in one's eye, something something that person can see the true core of you, of what you really are underneath everything. The eyes are the window and mirror [glass] of the soul. I finally see the true you.
AFO never reflected anyone.
But Kudo reflected AFO when the man accidentally killed Yoichi. He saw that AFO wasn't seeing anything, so later, Kudo smiled and mocked AFO at his own death.
"Yoichi?"
"He's gone."
"You killed him, Demon Lord."
And AFO hated that reminder.
Kudo was reminding him of what the truth was. Kudo saw it himself, and AFO blocked it out from the get-go. Kudo already knew what AFO was, what he was seeing, what he was doing to himself by blaming Kudo instead of himself.
And then, Kudo's eyes reflected his own hand when he realized Yoichi's Factor was in him.
Kudo clearly saw himself, and in himself, Yoichi. Nothing distorted it. It really was a clear mirror.
He really perceived Yoichi's will was living on, and was right. Otherwise, his eyes wouldn't have shown it.
Kudo was right about AFO. It's even implied back when he and Bruce had their backs turned; Kudo knew what AFO's real goal was. That was back when AFO preached unity and division under him.
Kudo could always see right through AFO. He really understood people from the start. And he never tried making up truths to justify what he was seeing, facing it head-on.
Kudo's lying about the world being black and white.
Kudo and Bruce saw the world as black and white. This was mentioned in the void.
Kudo also says, "Victory meant life. Defeat meant death."
But it's the Resistance. It's when Japan and the world was at their lowest. The world wasn't black and white; there's lots of gray.
Kudo and Bruce would've seen this. Kudo even admits that there's gray, just not directly.
Kudo says Yoichi knows, how he killed and trampled so many lives, to get back at AFO. He knows it wasn't right, or an amazing choice. Later, he says that when your back is against the wall, you have to make callous judgements. These hint at gray moments.
Kudo and Bruce have faced and been in the gray. But it's too hard to make the right choices, and there are times there is no right answer.
Historically, soldiers would convince themselves the enemy were monsters. They wouldn't be able to fight and kill them otherwise. They wouldn't be able to live with themselves without believing in this so badly.
Kudo and Bruce had to have been the same way. They were Meta Humans [Monsters] in a time they were viewed as diseased humans. The monsters were real. And they had a Demon Lord. Kudo and Bruce literally dressed up as soldiers.
Even if they were monsters to society, being Meta, Kudo and Bruce were still human. They knew this. The ones who tried believing in only black and white were inhabitants of the gray itself.
But they have to protect themselves. Kudo is so adamant that the world is only black and white, because he can't stand the gray. What it makes him do, what it means, that he's too weak to do anything.
Yoichi is an example of that gray area. The mortal enemy's younger brother, was actually locked up and sickly. He's just a comic book nerd. And it humanized the other side Kudo opposed so vehemently.
Kudo says victory is life and defeat is death. And Yoichi asked why he reached out to him then. He reminded Kudo of that gray area, and Kudo opened up.
Kudo might avoid the gray area because it's a matter of the heart and a moral dilemma, but it's what makes him human. When there's no right answer in the battlefield, he decides on his feelings instead.
He wishes the world was black and white, because it'd be so easy. But it's not.
Yoichi reminded him of how entering that gray area led to OFA ("when you reached out your hand to me"), and it had been the best choice in the end. The gray area is real, and Kudo's left a bare man with only his emotions when he's there.
Kudo is actually really kind and understanding. He's too soft for his own good. Thanks if you made it this far, I hope it makes sense (tag and image limit)
#KUDO IS UNDERRATED NEEDS MORE CONTENT RECOGNITION HES THE KINDEST WITTLE BOY EVER#my thoughts#i think ppl who write resistance stuff should also consider that not everything was black and white#there will be moral arguments where you cant decide. and the resistance has faced those sorts of things where There Is No Right Answer.#kudo is really kind tho. exactly because he cares so much he does all these things and tries to harden himself#but like exoskeletons work - its only an armor to protect the soft squishy insides and keep them from drying out#i woke up and had to put this stuff down#me: *picks up a sentence note in my fic notes* *puts it down here and elaborates*#the line was in relation to putting down stuff about the vestiges to remember dynamics#[Kudo is the kindest despite appearances]#kudo seems like he would be fiercely protective over ppl he cares about. exactly because hes seen so many of his comrades die over and over#kudo#bnha#mha#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#spoilers#ofa#one for all#bruce#bruce is the meme of “*chuckles* I'm in danger” and its just. Kudo w/ his new crazy idea chasing him down with Gearshift and Yoichis Factor#hikage shinomori#en tayutai#yoichi shigaraki#ive been thinking he was kind for a long time but never elaborated why. if u look at his actions words and thoughts it all makes sense#theres underlying kindness in there. he wants to be kind but the world would scorch him if he didnt have a stick up his ass#also adding on to the prev tag of kudo and fiercely protective- because in their times comrades were everything. otherwise you were alone#the world sucks resources are limited and youre a diseased human [Meta]. but you have someone willing to walk with you.#also about the [Kudo is the kindest] note among the vestiges- i dont think any of the other vestiges would do what kudo did#calmly volunteering himself rather than it being in panic. extending a hand and saving what shouldve been his mortal enemy. yknow
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Hear me out:
Kotoko adopted Es, and Fuuta went ballistic.
Rip Fuuta... he can never catch a break... Asdfsdf thank you for this, it was a blast thinking of all the ridiculous ways this could have played out! (One possibility I toyed with was Fuuta's competitive instincts take over, he fights her for Es, only to realize too late "*I* don't want to be responsible for a whole child WAIT") It's a similar format to the last one, with a knock-at-the-door reveal, but I still think it works 😂
“Don’t fuck with me, Es.”
“I would never.”
Lying brat. Fuuta knew they would every chance that they got. It was the reason he was so relieved that Es decided to find somewhere else to live after Milgram’s end. Fuuta had nothing left to fear from his former warden, but the others’ suggestions that Es become his new roommate still made him shudder. Three interrogations in a closed space with the rude kid were enough for him, thank you very much.
However, it wasn’t all a relief. He couldn’t help feeling concerned about who they’d gone to live with. Given how cryptic they were being, Fuuta would have been convinced they walked into the woods to find a furry family of Jackalopes or something to raise them –except, they showed up for this walk with clean clothing and internet access.
“I don’t believe you. You’re fucking with me right now. Why can’t you just tell me who it is?”
“It isn’t any of your concern. Hey, I thought you swore to stay out of others’ business. You turned over a new leaf and all that?”
“Tch. I meant other people’s business. You’re different.”
If Es had vanished off the grid like some of the other prisoners, Fuuta wouldn’t have cared. But they were here, near enough to arrange some lame meetup, which meant they were going to remain in his life for a while longer. And that meant, as the model citizen that Fuuta was, he felt responsible for ensuring they didn’t get themselves kidnapped by some creep.
He asked, “how much do you know about them, anyway? I mean, what kind of person can house a random weird kid on incredibly short notice? That’s definitely suspicious.”
Fuuta pulled the mask up on his face as they turned down a more crowded street. He knew people were going to gawk at his eye anyways, but it still helped him feel like he was blending in. With his thoughts on the injury for a moment, he was glad that bitch Kotoko was one of the prisoners who had gone off the grid. Good riddance.
“I promise, she’s fine. Not weird with children at all. In fact, she’s really good with them, which is why she could help me on such short notice.” They muttered, “but it’s not like I’m that young…”
“That’s still not normal. Is she some old housewife or something?”
“Ah, are you trying to do the interrogation this time? Actually, I’d say she’s around your age.”
“It’s just you two living alone? I’m still worried about Milgram coming looking for us again – can a girl like that really protect you?”
“Is everyone supposed to live with a big, strong man, like you?”
“Wha–!” Fuuta’s cheeks burned red. “That’s not what I –!”
“I’m only teasing. It’s cute that you care about me.”
That only agitated him more. “It’s not cute! I’m being realistic! One of us has to think about your safety while you’re just distracted by some pretty girl.”
“What makes you think she’s pretty?”
“Well, why else would you be so careless in deciding to live with her?”
All of the sudden, he saw it in Es’ eyes: that spark of mischief that Fuuta had come to loathe. He could never tell what they were plotting, but it was never a good sign.
Es held up their hands in mock surrender. They put on a ridiculous, overdramatic voice. “Ah, you caught me, Fuuta! I’m hiding her identity because she’s the most beautiful, capable woman in all of Japan, and I want to keep her all to myself!”
He groaned, but they weren’t deterred. “She’s got everything, I couldn’t risk you falling for her! She’s quite capable of defending me. She’s very strong, with protective instincts much like your own. She understands our situation like no one else could. She’s got intense eyes, and you wouldn’t believe her singing voice. She enjoys deep conversations, she’s a dog person, she –”
“ – now you’re being the creep! Just shut up, I get it already...”
When they finally had the decency to pull it together, they reassured him. “It’s all true, though. So there’s no need to worry about me. I’m in good hands.”
Good hands, his ass. In only a brief conversation, the caretaker had gone from sounding a little suspicious to sounding way too good to be true… meaning she was extremely suspicious.
“Maybe someday I’ll introduce you, if you’re lucky...”
He turned his eyes away. “At least let me run some background checks on her first.”
(He would just stalk her on social media, but that still counted.)
“You’re just going to stalk her on social media. That doesn’t count.”
“Eh? I have legit methods!” He hid deeper under his mask.
Even after the topic was dropped, after he and Es parted ways on an awkward goodbye, Fuuta was left thinking about this mystery woman. It took a bit of digging (and maybe a tiny bit of social media stalking) but at last he found where Es lived with this stranger. Contrary to what they may believe, he had turned over a new leaf. There would be no more hiding behind screens or letting others do the confrontation for him. Now that he was a changed person, he’d do the healthy and normal thing with this information: he’d march on down there himself and confront her like a man.
He made it all the way to the front door with his chin high. He knocked with confidence.
Then he began to shift nervously. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get the woman’s description out of his head. Sure, he was here to check on Es, but if someone happened to check him out at the same time, it was only right to be prepared… He straightened his shirt collar. He ran his fingers through his hair. He wondered if he should have covered up his eye to look more presentable.
The door swung open.
The surprise on Kotoko’s face was nowhere near the amount on Fuuta’s.
“Oh, for fucks sake –!”
From somewhere behind her, Es’ laughter rang out.
#milgram#fuuta kajiyama#es#kotoko yuzuriha#the informal narration voice was a bit more than i usually do - i hope it wasnt too cheesy because i thought it was a ton of fun aasdfsdfs#in the first one it was cool to write kazui as avoiding naming shidou for pretty good reasons (he doesnt want to make amane upset and he#genuinely has a hard time talking about liking men after so many years of secrecy)#however. es has no such reasons. they are a little troll and their favorite activity is messing with fuuta. this is the most fun theyve#had all week. they actually hoped they could keep the lie up for a little longer.#i picture kotoko has chilled out a lot post-milgram BUT upon finding out fuuta once again tracked down a childs address she chases him off#(with es still dying in the background)#i firmly believe that bisexual fuuta my beloved would Not be immune to the idea of kotoko......#thank you for the request!!! adfsdf i hope you enjoyed#it took a hot second to write down but i was cracking up thinking about it the whole time#for the other adoption idea i figured i could spin it so fuutas government-job father had connections to help him get custody paperwork#but he doesnt come out and say what he needs it for so his dad just thinks his son is finally getting his life together and helping#someone else in need -- and fuuta himself doesnt realize right away that he just adopted a whole ass kid out of spite 💀#drabbles
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One day I want to write an AU where Dante and Vergil were actually born a few hundred/thousand years pre-story, which is something Dante tries to hide while Vergil doesn't. I have 2 main ideas for it- DMC1/3 Fusion AU and DMC4 AU. These got long, so I'm putting them under the cut!
In the DMC1 AU, it'd be sort of like a combination of the anime, DMC3, and what you see in DMC1. Dante'd look like he's in his late 20s for this one. He and Lady would meet because they've both been hired for the same job, then encounter each other on some odd jobs before they end up working together on a big one. Maybe Arkham killed Kalina Ann when Lady was a teenager, but didn't manage to enact the rest of his plans right away so Lady's been chasing him for a decade, hunting demons in hopes of finding a lead. Dante meanwhile just likes the human world, so he goes from place to place hunting demons until it gets too suspicious he's not aging and he has to leave. This AU'd have branching paths at the big job they take take together: the Temen-ni-gru or Mallet Island. In both cases Dante and Vergil haven't spoken for a while. Vergil's gone silent for years or even a decade or two in the past, but he'll have a bad feeling about this particular silence (for good reason).
The main difference between the two would be who Arkham allies with. In both cases, Lady isn't aware of how old Dante is, or just *who* he is until partway through. She knows he's part demon, but with the way he acts she assumes he's actually in his late twenties and the kid of a demon that was probably fairly powerful, but unknown. But the truth would come out partway through, which...would maybe change things, maybe not. It would be a shock regardless.
Back to the branches though, in Mallet you could go with the plot where Arkham is trying to revive Mundus, so Dante intervenes. This one would have a Nelo Angelo bit (making Dante feel terrible because he'd just allowed Mundus to do whatever he wanted with Vergil for who knows how long, all because he hadn't bofhered to check up on his unusually silent brother). I might have a sort of B-plot involving Lady, Arkham, and Trish to accompany the Dante, Mundus, and Vergil angle.
With the Temen-ni-gru, it would be your classic Arkham+Vergil relationship, but with a much older Vergil he wouldn't be tricked by Arkham this time. Arkham would think he has Vergil in the palm of his hand until he clearly doesn't and Vergil deals a fatal blow as soon as Arkham pulls off his betrayal. I think Lady would be pissed Vergil stole her kill, but ultimately have to back down for the Dante vs Vergil fight because with that many extra years under their belts, she'd be no match. Seeing them would be an interesting contrast though, because Vergil so clearly clings to the past (he'd be in a more Renaissance style than Dante) while Dante's all about the present and human world. This one...I think would be harder to resolve than the other one, because I'm not sure how Dante would convince someone so set in his ways (again, hundreds of years old at a minimum) to change, but it could be fun to play with.
As for the DMC4 AU, this one would be a case where Nero is still a teenager, and Dante's really surprised because oh boy, who in the *world* managed to convince Vergil to sleep with them when he'd been so uptight for centuries? And Dante's excited to have a family member and can't help but mess with them.
I think in this one it might also be fun if Fortuna was aware that Sparda had children because then you'd have a case where people potentially worship said children, whether or not they realize it's Dante. Maybe Vergil ruled Fortuna for a little while after Sparda left and that meant people knew he existed. Dante hadn't been aware he'd apparently come back, but Nero's proof enough so he's really going to have to have a talk with Vergil the next time he returns from his travels. I'm not set on whether the people of Fortuna would know that Sparda had twins, or if they'd just know about Vergil and thus be in denial that Dante could possibly be the son of Sparda because he's *so* different. In either case eventually people (or at least Nero and Kyrie) would have to reconcile Dante with the figure they'd been worshipping and that would be hard (and for Dante, hilarious). I think in this one I might make Lady part of a bloodline that has fought alongside Sparda since he split the Human and Demon worlds, sort of like the Castlevania series with Alucard and the Belmonts, while Trish would be someone Dante recruited a few decades to centuries ago (importantly, she's younger than him).
In this one I think part of the driving force would be that Dante wants humanity to be able to protect itself/prove its worth, or for Nero to protect them/prove his worth, because if they/Nero don't then Dante's worried Vergil might instead deem humanity a scourge and do something bad.
The plot of DMC4 revolves around humans using demons to fuel their own power, and in this case I think Dante will have found out about what Fortuna was doing too late to erase what they've done, so it's a case where humans need to prove that there are more good humans than bad humans so Vergil doesn't slam down the hammer. Dante can encourage them in the right direction, but he can't carry them the whole way. If he does then Vergil will deem his interference proof of humanity's weakness and do...Dante isn't totally sure what, but he doesn't like how Vergil's been the past few decades and he's increasingly been feeling like Vergil might decide he's had enough of the human world and side with the members of the demon world Dante *knows* have been slipping through the border to speak to Vergil. And while Dante doesn't think he'd *lose* to Vergil, the battle would lead to immense destruction and would weaken them enough that Dante's fairly sure Mundus or some other demon would take advantage of the chance to invade the human world while they're in no state to defend it.
...Anyway! That's two/three ideas for first that I will...maybe get to, one day, once I finish the million other fic ideas I have. I just really like the concept of "totally goofy guy is actually super old" or "frustratingly unserious guy is actually one of the guys you grew up worshipping, somehow." I think there's a lot of room for fun there.
#erurandomness#erubabbles#eruwrites#dmc#eru hcs#i have SO MANY IDEAS but right now all my time is being funneled into leveling my crafters and gatherers in FFXIV...#expansion drop is the best time to make money but also i need them leveled before savage drops so i can craft my raid gear#i've made i think 8mil so far this expansion? but that's not enough for a pentamelded raid set#also that's barely enough to buy the new mount. and i'm someone who likes collecting mounts#i really shouldn't be so uptight about this. i have 82 million gil and i own a medium house so i don't have much to spend it on#i'm not interested in the 50mil gil mounts#but i DO want the night pegasus and eureka mounts which are expensive#...but i really want to get those as drops myself#same thing with the eureka orthos mount. i've beaten it 3 times and no drop. potd i've beaten once#and got to 181 once and 190 once. so i had many chances for pegasus but no drop#anyway that's all ffxiv and this is a dmc post so i'll stop rambling here#maybe i will start on this while i work on my other longfics#right now i have one at 62k and one at 96k i think? wips. and then one that's 'done' at 10k that need major overhauls bc im not happy w/it#plus 4 or 5 others that are at 1-8k i think#i have so many dmc fics guys. i just. am having problems with being happy with my writing quality so i haven't posted any...
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I have been DYING to get a minute to sit down and write out my thoughts about this because oooooooh boy you really got my brain racing with this one.
Echo and Fives have been so much of a package deal that they’ve fallen into a pattern they’re both comfortable with. Echo has a level head, confidence, and he’s very comfortable with authority figures. Fives is passionate and fiery but he also gets antsy with waiting around. The having to think about what’s coming next really gets to him whereas Echo doesn’t get that nervous.
I have noticed that there are several times Fives follows Echo’s lead, lets him take the front, and Echo is their voice. Often when you’re so intertwined with someone else you can tend to fall into patterns that work for you and I think it’s totally possible that happened for Fives and Echo.
Echo just does so well with structure, mediating, strategy and the planning process. It seems to get him more ready to get moving. Hearing about what’s going on, their mission, how they’re going to help, just gets him fired up to get going. He is never hesitant to state exactly what he thinks and he is a compelling man. When he believes in something he’s hard to ignore. Fives just wants to get out there and do it. The more he has to hear about how bad it is, how many steps it’s going to take, how dangerous it is, the more nervous he becomes. It’s like he has this anxiety about having to hear about it, sit with it, know it’s coming. The anticipation drives him up a wall he would really rather just do it and let his adrenaline do the talking.
Echo is so comfortable in the structure of it all. He likes having rules and boundaries and he likes knowing how to bend them. He’s confident, which is something I love about him. And Fives is confident too just in the ‘doing’ phase more so than the ‘planning’ phase.
I like the idea that they level each other out. That they need each other for different things. An equal and balanced partnership. A partnership that is shaken to its core at the Citadel. Fives has to learn to make up for the balancing act he lost.
And in a lot of ways he does. He changes. It’s so clear to me that by Umbara there is something different about him. The way he fights for what he thinks is right is something I’ve just come to associate with Fives but I like seeing him grow into it, find ways to speak out, and make people see him. Fives is one of those characters that really grows into himself, ya know? We see him at a few different stages of life and see how he’s changed from his cadet years and I’ll always be proud of the man Fives became.
I know Echo is proud of him, too.
I’ve always loved the idea that Echo was 60% of the chaos of the domino twins. Fives gave a good 40% of it but mostly held on for dear life and made sure Echo had someone backing him up. He knew Echo would have his back, would stand up for them and would recite every regulation he could remember to get them out of hot water. Echo may not be able to lie one bit but if he can use his knowledge against you he’s golden. The second they had a plan Fives would be all for it, ready to go, jumping in as fast as he could, but Fives knew to let Echo do the talking if they got caught so he could get them out of the hole they’d dug themselves.
I don’t know really where I was going with this just that I love it and can’t get enough of these two 🩶
Fives Thoughts
Sooooo I literally just made a post being like 'here are some fun bits from Umbara because the arc is depressing and I don't wanna talk about the sad bits' but uh... I had thoughts in the last 15 mins and now I wanna share them. 😃
And of course tagging as usual for people I'm interested to hear opinions from: @saturn-sends-hugs @inkstainedhandswithrings @the-bi-space-ace
It's been a while since I watched these story arcs back-to-back, so a lot of the character development is really showing atm. And one I find interesting is a shift in Fives between The Citadel and Umbara.
Fives has always had a bit of a firey personality, but up until this point he's been a little bit held back with that passion for the most part. And I'm gonna touch in something that @novaceleste and @spaceyjessa spoke about in their podcast (@coffeeandclones I was just listening to it the other day and they talk about some interesting points. Defo recommend you check it out. Also #JusticeForDroidbait2024) because it really is the basis for this whole point. Despite Fives being the brasher, slightly more hardheaded personality, and Echo being the more by-the-books one, it's Echo that tends to do a lot of the talking when authority is involved. When they speak to Shaak Ti, it's Echo that takes the lead, while Fives is a little more hesitant.
And when they first meet Rex and Cody, Fives automatically introduces himself as CT-27-5555, despite being very open about his displeasure of being called that throughout their training. He has this louder personality but he tends to draw into himself and panic slightly when put in front of authority.
However, he still has these more fiery moments, like during his speech in ARC Troopers. When he's put in a fight, that spark within him comes out full force. "My blood is boiling for a fight." That's what drives Fives. That's where that passion comes from. He always wanted to make ARC trooper, to prove himself and to demonstrate that fire in the fight.
And yet when we get to the Citadel, he's surprisingly nervous. Echo seems to be fairly on board with everything, he's listening intently, he's down with the plan. But Fives is rather hesitant and doesn't seem totally enthused about the whole thing. They've made ARC trooper, they're being included in a specialist mission, the things that Fives so desperately worked for. But now that they're here? He's really not comfortable with it.
And I think that Fives' passion and drive is so prominent in the heat of battle because his adrenaline is going, he's got the energy to burn and so that's when we see this fire in him. But in the quieter moments, the meetings, the in-between fights? He's nervous. Those are the moments where he can sit on it and really think about what they're up against. And what becomes really apparent is that Fives is absolutely terrified of the thing that fuels his fire. The thing he worked so hard for scares the absolute shit out of him. And for good reason.
But it's never been so much of an issue because he had Echo. Echo, who's more level headed, who feels comfortable with plans and formats and authority. He could be the comforting presence that Fives needed outside of battle, while Fives could be the spark in it. They're like fire and water. They keep each other regulated, balanced.
But then The Citadel happens.
And watching the Umbara arc, I noticed that Fives doesn't have that very noticeable fear. It's not that it's absent, it's just that it isn't so obvious all of the time. Of course, some of that is going to come with experience, he's been an ARC for longer, he's know Rex for a while so there's slightly more comfort with that level of authority, but he's definitely more consistently confident than he was before.
So my suggestion is, what if that comes as a result of losing Echo (at least in part)? He doesn't have that calming presence anymore, the one to balance his nerves. He doesn't have someone to stand firm beside him or take the bigger step for the two of them, so he's had to learn to do that himself. I think part of it is natural growth that comes with experience (to quote Rex: "experience outranks everything") but I do also think it comes with no longer having that constant other half. Fives has had to learn to balance himself.
Like I said earlier, a lot of this links back to stuff said in Nova and Jessa's podcast, so I'd recommend checking it out. But I just wanted to add my extra thoughts on it, having just watched Umbara, because it definitely stuck out to me on this rewatch.
#well I rambled hopefully it made sense 😅#thanks for tagging me I was literally buzzing thinking about getting home to write this 🩶
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I’m the type that can and will cry if think too hard <3
#random post#me tag ∠( ᐛ 」 ) |/#I’m not an overly emotional person in the stereotypical way. but I do get in my feels when thinking about life and the experience of living#I’m like. constantly explaining things to myself cus there’s never really a time or place to talk about it#also my method of explaining things is very not coherent sometimes. so it takes me a bit to really get my point across in a comprehensible#way. I’m a big thinker. I have many thoughts and ideas a views. a daily thing of mine is noticing problems#and then fixing them in my head with thought out explanations and motives and outcomes#it’s like I’m talking to someone else. much like how I format my text posts. that’s how my inner monologue is#me talking to myself is actually me talking to someone else. someone that isn’t real#anyways it’s a daily occurrence. every day of my life is spent with thoughts similar to those breaking down a movie#lots of thoughts from adhd. compulsive thoughts from ocd. overwhelming thoughts from autism. distressing thoughts from bpd#ya. this isn’t a vent I just need to like. see the thoughts in writing so I can do smth else. like eat this muffin ive been staring at for#over an hour now <3 mmmbfbg yea muffins are hard to eat now cus I had some with mold and food mold especially is a big nono for me#spend like. five minutes examining the damn thing before I even consider taking a bite. I’m very hungry an thirsty </3#when your mouth is so dry you can taste your own mouth 👍 I’m experiencing#nothing in particular. just experiencing. I wouldn’t have it any other way. I like having an experience and living#drank my tea and I had like. hallucinations of like an alcohol prep pad. I’ve been using those in my ear cus. tmi. had a pimple that’s#causing problems so mom suggested that. it burned! which means it worked so word. I’ve noticed lately that both me AND my family have been#using ‘word’ a lot. dad says we’ve been saying it but no we haven’t. if we had I’d have BEEN saying it. maybe we’ve used it before for a bit#but now it’s back. idk. I’ve said it in class on more than one occasion lmao I don’t look like the type to say smth like that but whatever#it’s like when I used to say bro after every sentence like 10 years ago lol. we’re a family of parrots we repeat eachother a lot#I started saying I love you out of no where and they started doing it too. we whistle at eachother from across the house. sing ear worms#together. quote funny things at every opportunity and drive the joke into the ground. everyone in this house is a different kind of mentally#I’ll and it’s the most beautiful clash of personalities because we’re all so annoying and we love eachother so much and also our#communication is shit because some ppl have hearing loss and another is a short fused child and some are quick to interrupt and some dont#get a word in and some just can’t explain and some can’t understand. we get there eventually at some point. we don’t get the full grasp of#how much we love eachother yet. but we’re gettin there. anyways this went into several different directions but they’re all good ones#I think. if you read all this good on you! this is my brain 24/7/365 haha ok love you
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i dont think melt down is supposed to be a sad song but the way i teared up while listening to it anyways
#the lyrics are the most youngk lyrics ive heard in a while#feel like i can trace the concepts to so many lyrics that he's written#its a direct answer to not gonna love#which btw the krn title has the word ice in it and so he spends a lot ofthat song with a play on words and talks about how he needs#someone to melt his heart#similar word uses of like shivering#reminiscient of wonpils stranded which youngk helped write iirc#using the phrase 'its okay' (seems to mean so much to him fr fr)#'youve done well' wyls helloooo#better better has similar concpts of like being able to withstand a day bc of someones smile#bruh better better was stuck in my head today too lol#and just the idea of finally giving back to the people he loves its smth he explores like in thanks to and want to love you#the only thing that would have made this more youngk is if he had used the word 'thanks' somewhere in the lyrics lol#tbh surprised it doesnt show up def a song where that would have been a very appropriate lyric#as always theres just something so raw and so pure about his lyrics and how he delivers it i dont even know how to put it to words!!#rambles
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