#life is a bittersweet contradiction

[bukaters]

Plucking a fruit from a tree that you've planted and eating it right then and there shouldn't feel so amazingly joyous. We're so disconnected from what we were originally put on this planet for that even something that basic and that should happen every single day of our lives gives us an intense rush of serotonin.

[noxtivagus]

how fleeting huh

[sorcerersseestars]

LIMERENCE (III)

PART I, PART II

preview: So maybe this was unexpected, but maybe not. Your parents had always told you to be careful who you lent your heart to, but even more careful about who you made promises—or rather, vows—to. You were never fond of listening to their advice, however life saving it turned out to be…

word count: 11.9k

warnings: Violence/violent thoughts, mentions of illness/injuries, mentions of choking, vomiting, and blood, actual romance finally?? 😳

song rec: Mahler Symphony III, mvt VI <3 for nostalgic/bittersweet parts

NOTE: JJK0 edit! In this timeline, Geto invaded the school, failed to obtain Rika, but left unscathed. The twins depicted as mid-late teens.

“WILL YOU please lay off for once?” The man sighs, an unusual note of annoyance threatening to creep into his voice.

“But, Master Geto, this is horrible! They look like they're on death's door and you basically dropped them!” The girl exclaims loudly. “Who even are they?”

He hoists your limp body back over his shoulder, easily handling your weight. He had set you down for a few moments, as his shoulder had begun to ache after being burdened in one position for too long, but he intends to move you to a more permanent place than the ground he had momentarily set you on. He begins to walk away and, like always, the girl is his shadow, following behind immediately with no hesitation.

"I didn't drop them, Mimiko. My shoulder was hurting, so I had to put them down..."

"You practically did. If that's how you treat someone who's unconscious, remind me to never pass out around you. It looks like they hit their head when you 'didn't' drop them."

"Well, they have a price to pay. I wasn't necessarily trying to be gentle," He chuckles bitterly, “Let this be a lesson to you and Nanako. Don’t make a deal you’re not willing to follow through with until the end. It could cost you your life.”

The young girl frowns, confusion clear in her bright eyes. “But Master, aren’t they a sorcerer and not a monkey? I feel their cursed energy, even though it is weak. Why are you acting like this, Master Geto? I feel like…I feel like I don’t know you right now. How can you be so kind to us and then…and then treat this sorcerer…”

Her voice that started strong, as she means her words and thus began her inquiry with conviction, now gradually fades in volume until nothing can be heard but the roar of the wind.

He turns away quickly, trying to conceal how wide his eyes are, to hide the quiver that runs down his neck and through his fingers, to bury the contradicting feelings and morals that are tearing him apart. Yes, he has always been praised for his gentle nature and softness of his soul. Yes, he has always been commended for his strong moral compass and even sometimes accused of being self-righteous. Satoru had a tendency for the latter, but you…you would always readily agree with Geto and would look to him for an example. He remembers your eyes on him when Satoru pledged to kill all of the sorcerers that had involvement with Riko’s death during the Star Plasma mission. You had instantly laid down your weapon when Geto told Satoru that it wasn’t worth anything, that it wouldn’t change the tragic outcome that had already fallen upon them.

But when Geto later had—in the view of the sorcerer’s world, and most definitely in your view as well, he can only assume—his fall from grace, you had not looked to him or followed him then. But as he only had one opportunity to speak with you after, he could not pretend to fully understand your entire opinion of him—did you despise him, did you feel betrayed by him, or maybe, deep down, did you understand?

He doesn’t know what you truly think, and probably never will. And yet he cannot hold back about what he thinks about you—you, a pivotal figure in the Jujutsu world, a strong sorcerer who also has a strong attachment to the strongest sorcerer. You, who represent and fight for the future generation of sorcerers. You, who often put your life on the line to save mere monkeys, and teach others to do the same.

He turns back to Mimiko, who looks to him with wide, hesitant eyes. Her presence alone reminds him of his purpose, of his mission, and he quickly summons his resolve. He has his reasons, after all.

“Master, I am so sorry, I didn’t mean…I didn’t mean to doubt you or disrespect you—“

Geto sighs, expression softening at the slight tremble in her voice. “It’s quite alright, Mimiko. I am the one that should be apologizing. It’s just that it is difficult for me to be in their presence, knowing what they are and who they are close to. It makes me someone…someone that I sometimes wish I wasn’t. They are both symbols of everything we despise, of everything we are fighting against. I can’t help but feel disgusted and irritated in their presence.”

She blinks slowly, processing his words. "So you mean them and...are you talking about this sorcerer and Gojo Satoru?"

"Very good," Geto praises, but he does not smile. "Those two have been on my list a long time."

Mimiko raises an eyebrow. "I understand about Gojo Satoru, of course, but why this person? I don't recognize them from our black book. Aren't they just a teacher at Tokyo or something?"

"(Y/N) was our classmate at Tokyo, and it is true that they teach there now. They are particularly special to our situation, you could say. They could turn the tide for us," He pauses, then shakes his head decisively. "No, they will."

Mimiko's lips twitch as many more questions threaten to burst out, but she holds her tongue and instead takes in her master's expression. Excitement glitters in his dark eyes, or maybe anticipation. He looks like he has cracked the code to something very important, giving him an almost manic appearance. But there's also something else in his countenance. She can't put her finger on it, but an emotion akin to regret occasionally interrupts his otherwise eager expression.

"They have always been infatuated with Gojo. I can't say it was love at first sight, but as close as you can get to that. I knew that, eventually, they would fall for Gojo. For a long time, I never thought anything of it, other than the fact their heart was going to be broken someday. After all, he was notorious for his arrogance and, well...philandering, I guess you could say, back then."

Mimiko rolls her eyes. "You mean he was a playboy."

"So, you get my meaning," Geto chuckles. "Yes, he has always been like that. And ever since the night that...that I rescued you and Nanako, ever since we went our separate ways, I haven't been able to lure him out. Not that I've wanted to, yet, but you know my goal."

"Yes," She breathes out the word almost instantly. "To eliminate all non-sorcerers, for the betterment of our world."

"That's the end goal, yes," He says, letting out a grunt of assent. "But remember what I told you and Nanako all that time ago?"

He turns to face her, eyes searching her expression, wondering just how firmly she believes in his ideals.

She looks up at him instantly, eyes glinting with a determination and purpose beyond her age. The intensity of her gaze almost startles him. "Gojo is the sorcerers' figurehead. Once he is eliminated, they will panic and we can make our move. They won't have the advantage anymore."

"Figurehead...maybe I said that before, but he is no figurehead. The higher-ups are, definitely, but Gojo...Gojo is the real deal. As much as I hate to admit it, we are no longer equals and haven't been for a long time. He is the most difficult to handle, and that's why we have to take him out first."

"Even though you didn't get Rika? I thought acquiring that cursed spirit was necessary."

Geto sighs, "You wound my pride by reminding me of that failure...but, no, that won't be necessary anymore."

He enters his room and haphazardly deposits you onto his bed, although it is still considerably gentler of a movement than before. His eyes sweep over your form, scrutinizing your sickly appearance. You look rather convincing for his case.

"Why not?" Mimiko prompts after the silence stretches out too long. Her patience can only last so long—he has been avoiding what she has really wanted answers for this entire conversation.

He nods to your form. "Gojo will come for them soon. He knows this is my doing, I made sure of it. And once he sees their condition, knowing that he caused this...and after they explain our little Binding Vow we took, his worldview will shatter."

He doesn't elaborate. Mimiko, who was listening with rapt attention, shakes her head in confusion. "Master, please explain this to me. What do you mean to happen? I thought you wanted to dispose of him."

"I did, once. When I was angry with this world, angry at his sudden insistence on helping the weak, I did. But I've never truly wanted to kill him, just as he has no desire to kill me. He's supposed to, but he won't. We were best friends, after all. After this happens, after they succumb to this disease, then I can't imagine he will ever want to help anyone ever again, monkeys included. Even if he doesn't join us, he will no longer be a threat."

His dark eyes trail over your form, taking in your gaunt cheeks and thin hair. He lingers on your closed eyes—even though you are unconscious and technically resting, the fatigue that plagues your features does not fade in the slightest.

“Which disease, Master?” Mimiko prompts, seeing that Geto’s mind has drifted. His eyes quickly shoot up to meet hers.

"They are afflicted with Hanahaki disease. This is what I anticipated all those years ago as I watched them fall head over heels for Gojo. That he would be too cautious to show his affection to them and they would believe their love to be one-sided. It is not, I know it is not, but I convinced them otherwise. I made a Binding Vow with them to guarantee that they wouldn’t notify anybody else about their condition, once it has befallen them. They vowed to keep quiet until they sensed they were close to death."

“They took this Vow willingly, or…?” Mimiko asks in a hushed voice, as if afraid to offend her master.

“Yes. I told them that one day they would fall prey to this disease, that their love would be unrequited—they easily accepted this. I convinced them that letting them succumb to the disease would be…would be for the best.”

Fear and confusion pulse through Mimiko, quickening her heart rate. She is quickly piecing together all the information that pertains to her master, and through every line of thought she comes to the same conclusion. She squeaks out, “But won’t he come for you?”

Geto shakes his head calmly. “No, he’ll come for them.”

“That’s not what I meant, Master,“ She says with urgency. “Won’t he kill you?”

“And what would that accomplish?”

“He’ll be angry, he’ll want revenge! You implied that he…that he loves them, too.”

“Killing me will not bring them back.” He says simply, coolly. “It would only bring him more pain. His love and his best friend dead in one night? It would be too much to bear.”

Mimiko shakes her head worriedly. “Even so…would he really consider you his best friend after that? I think you are misjudging the situation slightly, Master…”

Geto laughs, “You believe me to be a fool. I can’t say I disagree, but I know him. Too well.”

“Can I ask you something, Master?” She asks quietly. He nods his consent with an intrigued expression. “Did he ever expect you to defect? When you two were close, did he ever know this side to you? If not, then…how do you expect to know him at all, either?”

Geto says nothing, train of thought interrupted by a bright sound. Mimiko’s point is clear, clearer than the peals of the bells from the rustling wind chimes outside. The wind that consumed Mimiko’s words before now disturbs his thoughts with this incessant chiming.

He eventually says, “He will be defeated, especially with the knowledge that they agreed to this. That they agreed to die for him.”

“Why did they?” Mimiko whispers, gazing at your broken form with unbridled pity in her eyes. “What did you promise them?”

“They came to me, begging to spare him. They knew I would come after him some day. They admitted to me that he had direct orders to kill me, but could never go through with them or even think on them. They feared this weakness of his would cause him to hold back and leave him vulnerable if I ever decided to go through with my plans. But I, of course, needed something valuable in return if I were to promise to spare him. And this is the only valuable exchange I could came up with…a way to defeat him without ever needing to physically do so. They didn’t hesitate to lay down their life, and I…”

Geto pauses, reflecting on his feelings for you. You had once been a good friend, although he always thought you were too lenient towards Gojo—always walking around with large puppy eyes for him, at times blind to his faults. At one time, you and Geto were so close that he perfectly knew your order at the local cafe, down to the two sugar packets and only a few droplets of cream, and that you would only ever go to bed earlier than 2 am if you knew they were serving your favorite breakfast in the morning. In comparison, Geto doesn’t know much of you anymore—but he knows your literal fatal flaw—you give up too much of yourself for Satoru, this time being your life.

“Well, I have to admit it didn’t feel great guaranteeing the death of an old friend, but…it is for a higher purpose. Our purpose. It’s for the sake of the entire world. If Gojo goes down, in one form or another, we will be able to infiltrate and dismantle their whole society. Their death won’t be in vain.”

A new voice pipes up from behind him, soft and choked. "That's too cruel, Master Geto.”

He looks over to the doorway and sees only long, dark brown hair and shaking shoulders.

“Nanako?” He questions quietly, tone gentle, yet curious.

Nanako slowly turns around, her face revealed inch by inch, and he is surprised to find glossy eyes and rivulets of tears pouring down her cheeks. One hand is pressed over her mouth as if she is trying to rein in her emotions, but is failing.

“I know it is for the betterment of our world—“ She is stopped by a telling rasp in her voice. “But—I really can’t believe in love and goodness anymore if they die.”

Before she can hear any response from either her sister or her master, she turns on her heel and races down the hall.

The air in Geto’s lungs is stuck and feels like it’ll be forever suspended there, but then Mimiko says, “She still believed in that stuff?” and he can finally exhale.

Gojo Satoru isn’t having a good night—or, rather, a good morning. Ever since you called him at 3 am, he has been wide awake and filled with a jumble of emotions. He was so relieved to see your name pop up on his screen—he thought it was a good sign, that maybe you didn’t hold his ghosting you for months against him. He was also glad that he didn’t have to initiate contact with you, which he honestly didn’t feel like he deserved after how he’s brushed you aside—although he couldn’t shake off the feeling that maybe he was just a coward and in denial about it. He’s often in denial about things pertaining to his feelings—oftener about feelings involving you.

Ever since the call ended, when your screams and near unintelligible speech were abruptly cut off, Gojo has been frozen: hands shaking, vision coming in and out of focus, mouth turning to sand. He can’t reach you right now. He wishes he could teleport instantly to you, but he remembers Shoko’s news that you have moved to a new apartment about a month ago. Shoko had been shocked when he admitted he didn’t know, and further so when he didn’t proceed to ask for your new address. Gojo always used to come by and bother you at your last apartment, after all. And here his past behavior comes to bite him in the ass.

His mind begins to race, full of regrets and hopes and fears; his thoughts fly by faster than they ever have before. It makes him think of you all the more, and memories he had long forgotten begin to surface.

It’s funny how fast he is inundated with memories. In school, you had always teased him about how slow he was in school, specifically how slow of a test taker he was. He would always finish last, no matter the day, no matter the subject.

“You must be a slow thinker,” You used to tease him. Once you had followed it up with, “I’m surprised you even take the tests seriously. I figured you’d just Christmas tree it and be the first one done just to get it over with. Wouldn’t ‘the strongest’ want to focus on training more anyway?”

Your mischievous smile flashes through his mind, your laughter so full of mirth that he hasn’t heard in forever also rings through his mind; his chest aches. Back then, he didn’t exactly know what to think of how you could never stop poking fun at him—he didn’t understand what you meant by it, but he sorely, sorely misses it now. Back then, he couldn’t help but try to fire back with something he found equally as insulting, but it never had the same effect. His face would always be flushed and his charisma would melt away, revealing a stuttering and helplessly in love boy. Nobody could look at him and recognize him as what would be the strongest sorcerer in their age, or relate him to the cocky, rich Gojo heir who was rumored to be head of his clan soon. He was a mere boy would wanted to impress a regular sorcerer of no material or familial importance or fame, a sorcerer who was smart and witty enough to cut down his personality—or, rather, his persona—down to his raw self with just a few words. And yet when Shoko and Geto would poke fun at his crush on you, he would vehemently deny it. He didn’t truly believe it himself—or didn’t want to believe it—because of how vulnerable you made him feel. Despite all the signs, he maintained his claim of not liking you, which was hard to believe with his strong need to impress you.

He couldn’t use his charm or fame to get to you, so he wanted—no, needed—to impress you through other means. For example, Gojo did indeed prefer training to studying, but he couldn’t just say that, otherwise he would reveal too much. So whenever you would tease him about his molasses pace in academics, Gojo would begin to either shrug or quip back with something about how you were quite the opposite, a quick learner with perfect grades but always the first one to be beaten in a spar and the last to understand a new technique. You never seemed offended or even embarrassed by his claims, which irked him, considering how ruffled he would get if you said something similar to him. You would just smile as if you knew something he didn’t.

The real reason why he tried so hard in academics is—surprise, surprise!—that he wanted to impress you. He found that you were difficult to impress—you didn’t seem to care about how strong he was as a sorcerer, or about his looks and charm. In Satoru’s view, you always seemed to prefer his best friend Suguru for his mind and moral compass. Suguru was naturally book smart and didn’t have to work hard to get good grades; if Gojo fell behind, he thought he wouldn’t have a chance with you at all. In actuality, you cared little about others’ grades, but you were amused—and, okay, maybe a little impressed—by how diligent Gojo seemed to be.

Either way, you’d be destined to fall for Gojo Satoru anyway. Either way, Gojo Satoru was destined to be oblivious to your attraction toward him.

But, your love for him was inconsequential—either way, he would always come for you. Even if you hated him, he would be there, with no ounce of hesitation. He wouldn’t think twice when it came to you, even if it involved someone he also had a painfully complicated relationship with.

His former best friend, someone he truly believed to be the only one to understand him, blindsided him all those years ago. Even you, who were always so perceptive and attentive to your friends, hadn’t anticipated Geto’s horrific exit from society.

That was the first time you had seen cracks emerge in Gojo’s mask. He remembers your concerned gaze on him when he would forget to laugh when a joke was told, or at how quickly his perpetual smile would fall once he thought nobody was looking.

“We’re all shocked,” You had tried to console him once, even though he acted like he didn’t need it. “It’s not your fault, Satoru. Nobody expected this…”

You two were enjoying ice cream, sat lazily on the steps of the school. It almost felt normal, but the fact that Satoru’s treat was untouched broke the illusion for you.

“Who said it was?” He tried to laugh like he normally would, but it sounded faker than he anticipated. “If that idiot wants to go running off like a little bitch, let him.”

Your brow had furrowed as you tried not to glare at him. You hated when he used misogynous terms like bitch or pussy when describing someone negatively, but he couldn’t give a flying fuck right now. You knew he was struggling so you said nothing on this, but your sharp gaze reminded him of his fault nonetheless.

“It’s a little more than just running off,” You had sighed. “The report was…”

You trailed off, not wanting to recount the atrocious crimes someone you believed to be so gentle committed.

“Like I don’t fucking know that.” He snorted bitterly, angrily.

The mask was slipping more, that much was obvious. You wanted to help ease it off, but knew you would likely have to press him. It wasn’t healthy for him to be holding everything inside.

“There’s a rumor that they’re going to assassinate him,” You said quietly.

“It’s no rumor,” He said, voice quivering from trying to hold back his emotions.

“Really?” You turned to him with rapt interest, but he didn’t elaborate. The school-wide known yapper sat silently, his jaw clenched.

“Why are you holding back?” You suddenly accused. “You never say so little.”

“He shook his head, avoiding your eyes. He felt like he could snap at any second, that his mask would shatter for good and he’d be completely exposed in front of you.

“Why are you holding back?” You repeated more loudly. You didn’t seem like you were going to give this up.

He suddenly threw his uneaten, melted ice cream to the ground. There was a palpable crunch as pressed his palm down on the cone, shattering it. You flinched, momentarily caught off guard, but deep down you weren’t surprised. He had so much guilt, anger, and sadness sitting dormant inside of him, and it was only a matter of time before it erupted.

Your eyes followed his figure as he pushed himself up and started to walk away. He didn’t glance at you—but it guessed he was being avoidant rather than spiteful.

“Don’t you dare walk away, too,” You had pleaded, but it sounded more like a threat. “We’re not done here, Satoru.”

You stood up quickly, ready to go after him, but your fear would soon be proven unfounded, because Gojo stopped abruptly at your words. For a moment, both you and him were still. You were scared of what might happen next, but you didn’t dare say another word.

You didn’t have to. Gojo swiveled around, eyes blazing with a fire you had never seen before and chest heaving as if he had just been battling. Long gone was his usual cocky smile and condescending, playful gaze.

He began to shout at you. “What do you want? For me to admit to you what you already know?! Well, fucking fine! They ordered me, me of all people, to murder him—or, as they put it, ‘dispose’ of him. Is that what you wanted to hear me say? Are you fucking satisfied now?”

Your eyes were wide, taking in this new and painful information. You recovered quickly, speaking back in the most gentle tone he had ever heard from you.

“I’m sorry, Satoru. I didn’t know. I can’t believe they would…No, I guess I can believe that, but they can’t…they shouldn’t be allowed to order you that just because you’re the strongest. I’m sorry I pressed you about this,” You murmured. “I just wanted you to let out whatever was hurting you. You keep pretending around everyone, but…You’re hurting more than any of us, but you won’t admit it. You can tell us your pain…you can let it out.”

Nobody had seen through him like that before.

Then words began to flow out, words he had never told anyone. Truths that had never seen the light of day. He hated that you had this effect on him, that you able to unravel him like nobody else could. He could never keep anything from you, and this alone would influence many decisions in the future.

He shouted the words out, thinking that maybe if he yelled it would force the ugly painful lump in his throat to go away. “I hate that I’m expected to kill my best friend. I hate that the higher-ups use me as a weapon. I hate that ever since I was born, that’s all I’ve been and ever will be. And I hate most of all that one day, one of us will have to kill each other, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

Your eyes swam with tears, horror clear in them. You knew his words were true. You knew it was true, and you had to do something about it. Later you would seek out the other side behind Gojo’s back, not knowing why desperation burned through you until you had settled a deal.

You looked so scared that it startled Gojo out of his miserable state. He came closer to you, arms held out as if he was halfway thinking about embracing you.

“God, I’m sorry I yelled at you like that, angel.” He said, mistakenly believing that his yelling induced your horrified state, eyes crinkling apologetically behind his shades.

“Angel?” You questioned, taken so aback that you barely remember what other words he uttered.

His cheeks suddenly colored. You had never noticed him blush before, even though he had because of you many times, so you couldn’t help but be surprised at his redness.

“I-is that okay?” He asked, uncharacteristically sheepish.

You rolled your eyes. “Sure, Mr. Flirt. I’m sure you call everyone that, anyway.”

He shook his head, “Nah, I’ll reserve this one for you. Of course, everyone else is baby, or sunshine, or pookie—”

“Okay, can I give you one then? How about harlot? Can I call you that?”

“What? NO!”

He smiles at the memory—the first time he called you angel, which was then cemented as his ‘ironic’ nickname for you. How you never realized his pet name was indicative of his feelings, he could never understand.

His smile falls—that pet name hasn’t crossed his tongue in ages, just as he hasn’t been open with you about his feelings and situation. He is sorry to say that you and him haven’t had the type of transparency you had in the past in a while, at the very least not since he was backed into a corner by the higher-ups and forced to ignore you. And maybe even not since the time you once came to him, bawling your eyes out and claiming you felt like you had done something awful that involved him but you couldn’t remember what, as if someone had put a spell on you to forget.

These memories all run through his head at a speed beyond what he can comprehend. He feels like he is missing something, and that it may be hidden somewhere deep in his memories. But Gojo does not have the luxury of time on his side; he has no more time to dig through his memories. Even if the answer may lie from within, he has a better chance of finding it out by pursuing you.

After he allows himself a final moment to remember and remember and remember, to regret and regret and regret some more, he starts making calls—he needs to gather information as quickly as possible. He knows that Geto is crafty and calculated—this must definitely be related to your Binding Vow with him. He can’t guess what it entails, and as much as he wants to believe that Geto must have some good in him still, he can’t rule out the possibility of your life very much being in danger. You being some sort of a twisted bargaining chip is a fear that does not go unnoticed in his mind. He knows this to be highly probable, but he doesn’t want to admit it.

Gojo knows that Geto and his association, disguised and funded as a “religious organization”, are constantly moving around. Their temple’s location has been known for a long time, but they are rarely there, intel has reported. Thus he makes calls to all of the top sorcerers involved in collecting intel to see if a new hideout has popped up. He was hoping that they could pinpoint exactly where Geto is, but they only have a few general ideas of his location.

Gojo hangs up on the last sorcerer right after they could only propose two vague locations. He wanted to berate all of them for being inadequate, for letting such a high level dangerous sorcerer like Geto to exist without detection, to let him run amuck in their society with virtually no consequences, even after targeting Gojo’s student for his sole personal benefit. But Satoru knows this anger would be misdirected—projecting the higher-ups problems onto these sorcerers who are just obeying orders.

“Fuck!” Gojo yells, the panic and frustration rising with every passing moment. “I’m going to kill those fucking higher-ups one day.”

At least they all had similar guesses, so Gojo has an idea of where you could be held. The only completely useful piece of information he acquired was your current address, as much as it pained him to ask a random person for it. And just like that, Gojo is on the case. He could have called in specialized trackers, but it would take too long to dispatch them and would definitely result in interference from the higher-ups.

Instead, Gojo pockets his phone—which he had thrown quite forcefully onto his bed in his frustration after failing to locate you—and teleports to your new address. He races up the steps to your floor and stops in front of your unit. He frowns. Your front door is ajar, which makes him bristle. It’s a clear statement from Geto—brazenly boasting that he got to you easily and with little care about being caught. Well, really no care—which is suspicious and smells of a trap. But there’s no way Gojo will choose not to pursue you—and, unfortunately, Geto seems to know this, too.

Gojo sets his Six-Eyes on your apartment and finds no active cursed energy. Finding the coast to be clear, he quickly pushes the door open further and walks in. He is first struck by the mess in the living room, eyes darkening at the sight of the broken glass and neglected blooms lying on the floor.

You struggled all the way to the door, is what Gojo assumes of the eerie mess. His jaw clenches as he recalls your shrieks as you were dragged against your will. He continues on, reaching your bedroom first. It is surprisingly in order there, so he moves to your bathroom—and that’s when his heart drops into his stomach.

Blood. Blood is everywhere. He feels sick. The scent clogs his nose and he swallows to keep himself from gagging. He sees the imprint of your hands in the edges of the pool of blood on the floor. He feels sick. He sees red handprints on the doorframe where you desperately tried to hold on while you were dragged out—there are gouges in the wood from your nails digging in. He feels traces of your cursed energy, fainter than they should be, overpowered by Geto’s strong residuals. He feels sick.

The only key detail that Gojo fails to notice is the singular baby blue petal, darkened from a layer of dried blood, lying on the floor. You had disposed of the flowers earlier in the night because their presence only allowed you to think of him—but this petal had evidently escaped your notice. Is it ironic or fitting that the object of your affection and disease does not notice the petal in the color of his eyes?

Geto has been waiting patiently by your bedside. You haven’t woken yet, which spares him the ordeal of conversing with you. He fears that you would be troublesome if you realized that Gojo would be coming for you—if you truly realized what was going on, you’d in hysterics, surely. Good thing that he prevented that the day he made the vow with you.

On the other hand, however, Geto is curious about what you would possibly say to him. Would you be glad to see him after all of these years? He doubts you truly despise him, deep down. After all, you always aspired to be more like Geto—from his composure, to his gentle character, to his morals. You definitely don’t adhere to the same moral code now, and Geto is positive you think of him lowly for his misdeeds. But perhaps you may still envy him for his composure and even his apathy to an extent—his ability to keep calm in life or death situations, and for his ability to kill without batting an eye. Maybe you wish you more like that so that you could take him out and spare Satoru the pain of doing so.

Or maybe he is completely wrong. Maybe you have changed—if you had not been in such a sickly state, would you have fought back to the point of killing him? Have you gained enough mental fortitude and tenacity to kill him in Satoru’s stead?

After spending a few more minutes mulling over his thoughts, Geto leaves the room. Satoru should be here soon—but not too soon. After all, nobody knows his new location—only him and his girls know. So Gojo shouldn’t arrive at least until sun-up, or at least he hopes. He’s depending on that—if not, then he might have to interfere more directly.

Geto exits the house, hoping the chill of the night air will clear his mind. It is very cold tonight—a few small flakes are falling, but melt as soon as they touch the ground. He’s itching for a smoke, a warm stick of cancer to fill his lungs with. He detachedly wonders if Shoko is still keeping her old habit.

“Master Geto?” Comes a small voice.

He turns his head to acknowledge her presence.

“Can’t sleep?” He asks with genuine concern. “It’s late, Nanako.”

She shakes her head. “Not really…this place doesn’t hold the best memories for us.”

He nods. “I know. That’s why we chose it though, right? It sets the scene well.”

“Yeah. It’s kind of eerie that nobody lives around here anymore…I mean, this countryside was full of monkeys.”

“I remember very well,” Geto says with some disgust. “You and Mimiko were too good for this place. They were cruel to you.”

She sighs. “I know, we really hated it here. To think what would have happened if you didn’t rescue us…thank you, Master.”

Geto smiles gently. “There’s no need to thank me. I only did what was right.”

Nanako smiles back, looking a little sheepish. Then her smile falls and she nervously twiddles her fingers together. “By the way, Master, they’re still asleep…and still breathing. I thought they would…I thought you said they’d be deceased by now?”

His eyebrows furrow. “Hm. I thought so, but perhaps I was mistaken. I’ll go check on them. You should go back to bed and try to get some rest.”

He seems troubled and his mood noticeably soured. Nanako nods and quietly excuses herself, not wanting to bother her master any further. But before she is out of sight, Geto loudly lets out a string of expletives from. When Nanako turns to look at him, she sees that his head is in his hands.

“What’s wrong?” Nanako asks, rushing back to him.

“He’s here,” Geto says through gritted teeth. “Nanako, go. I don’t think he’d harm you, but I won’t take any chances. Wake Mimiko and go to the place we discussed earlier.”

Nanako doesn’t hesitate. She really doesn’t want to be anywhere near Gojo Satoru, who her master has admitted surpasses him in strength. She’s seen Geto in battle before—she can’t imagine how monstrous Gojo must be in comparison. She rushes back into the house, set on going directly to Mimiko, but instead pauses by the room where you rest. She studies your sleeping form, lingering on the unfairness of your situation. But what can she do? She is powerless to help you.

And so, Nanako and Mimiko flee just as they were told to. One wonders if she’s doing the right thing, the other yawns and asks about breakfast.

While they’re escaping, Geto ponders what to do. It’s not dawn yet—the sky is starless, covered by black clouds full of snow—but the barrier Geto placed has been penetrated. Gojo Satoru has arrived. Early. Which is, well, rather inconvenient: you aren’t dead yet. But he can’t just go and finish you off—it would defeat the entire purpose of this set-up. He doesn’t have to lay a finger on you for you to die. That’s the beauty of it.

Geto suddenly stands up straight, alert from the feeling of cursed energy so near. His eyes trace the perimeters of his vision, but he sees nothing even in his peripherals.

“Where are they?”

The words come from nothing, from nowhere. It’s as if the words enter only his mind and not his ears.

His instincts are going off like crazy—ringing through his head as a massive wave of cursed energy washes over him from behind. Geto slowly turns around, regaining calm as his thoughts catch up to his instincts.

There stands Gojo Satoru, the man who can change everything. Just like the time Geto ‘revisited’ Tokyo Tech, white bandages obscure his famous eyes. While Geto blends into the night’s shadows, Gojo almost glows. His white hair and pale countenance instantly draw attention to him.

As Geto quickly looks over his figure, his eyes begin to narrow. Considering what he’s seeing, he’s not sure how to approach this or what his reaction will be—because right now, Gojo looks different. He doesn’t stand with his usual casual air, and even lacks the cocky smirk he normally wears. His hands aren’t in his pockets, he isn’t leaning on anything, and his weight isn’t shifted to one side. In contrast to his normal posture, he stands tall, finally doing his height and strength justice.

If Geto were wiser, he might be scared. After all, he’s never seen Gojo look this serious, even when he was messing with his students in front of him. But knowing what he knows, Geto can’t help but feel smug. Almost everything has gone according to plan so far—a plan that he had enough foresight to create years ago. His prediction of you falling for Gojo and feeling the keen sting of unrequited love came to fruition—surely, everything else will also fall into place.

Geto chooses not to be wise.

Geto looks at Gojo calmly, a small smile appearing on his face. “Always so direct nowadays, eh, Satoru? Well, nevertheless, I’m glad you’re here. Without the strongest, this would all be pointless.”

Gojo’s lip curls. He can hardly believe that the man in front of him used to be his closest friend that he thought understood him the most. To Gojo, it’s sickening how gentle and familiar Geto’s easy smile is, knowing he has killed more innocent people than he ever saved.

“Oh, really? Care to enlighten me on your worthless plan this time? I’m really starting to think you actually went crazy just like everyone said.”

Geto walks away from Gojo, back turned to him. With no eyes on Gojo, he leaves himself completely exposed and at the mercy of Gojo. Geto’s display of trust makes him bristle, eyes darkening under the swath of white that lays over his eyes.

“That would be easier to accept, wouldn’t it?” Geto says, but quickly pulls away from the topic. “You know, Satoru, I didn’t even give you the address. I would give a warmer welcome for an invited guest…say, like (Y/N)! They have been received well by myself and my twins.”

Gojo sighs, adopting more of his casual charm as he chuckles dryly.

“Just what is this, Geto?” Gojo holds up his hands. “Don’t tell me you’re the jokester now, because this isn’t fucking funny.”

“Whatever you say, Gojo. I’m thoroughly amused.”

His dark eyes, glinting in the light of the moon, crinkle in said amusement. Gojo holds back a shiver—there’s something sinister in those eyes.

“Just because you have forsaken yourself doesn’t mean others will accept that,” Gojo says firmly. “I thought that would be obvious by now.”

“And when has that stopped me?” Geto says with a tut. “Besides, you’d think someone would try to interfere if they didn’t accept this. But alas, you have left me alone for years. Is this not a product of your own doing?”

Gojo almost falters. After all, he’s not wrong.

“I leave you alone for years and you go and—” He audibly exhales. “You harass my students and then kidnap (Y/N)? Let’s cut the bullshit. What are you plotting? Why would you take (Y/N)? What could you possibly want with them? You left all of us and never looked back.”

“With them? Don’t you mean from them?” Geto says, turning to give him a small smile. “As to what I’m planning…you’ll find out soon enough.”

Gojo’s brow furrows, but he says nothing.

“It’s so cold tonight,” Geto sighs lazily, as if he hasn’t a genuine care in the world. “You know, I would welcome you inside, but you’re here earlier than expected. I don’t know if they’re ready for you, yet.”

Gojo is rendered silent for a few moments as he considers what Geto could possibly mean. Geto speaks lightly, as if he’s hinting at something amusing to himself. Obviously Geto has done something to you—but what could be possibly mean by ‘ready for him’?

Gojo doesn’t want to entertain Geto by falling for his bait, so he speaks only what he truly wants to know. “I already told you, Suguru. Cut the bullshit. Tell me what you want from them. Now.”

Geto turns to him with a sharp glare. “What am I, a dog for you to order around? Don’t you know that’s what monkeys are for?”

“Do you try to control, or should I say enslave, humans now, too?” Gojo sneers. “Sounds like you have less dignity than one of your so-called ‘monkeys’.”

“What a low blow. Enslave? No, nothing like that! I just put them out of their own miserable existence after they do some of my bidding. You know Satoru, you’re more feisty than you used to be.”

“I wonder why,” Gojo says bitterly, but tries to hold his tongue. The more he gives in to his banter, the further he is from what he came here for.

Geto doesn’t respond this time. Gojo doesn’t like the feeling he starts getting—the feeling that Geto is stalling for time. He needs more information if he can get it, but Gojo knows he doesn’t have any more time to waste—you could be in any sort of condition. He’s beginning to panic, even though he knows he shouldn’t.

“What do you want from them? Why would you take them?” Gojo speaks lowly. “They don’t have anything to do with you anymore.”

When Geto remains silent, Gojo barks out, “Tell me now, Suguru! I won’t play these fucking games with you. You already crossed the line before by messing with my students. Now this? You should be careful. It’s like you want me to kill you.”

Geto laughs heartily, as if this is just a tense moment in an otherwise pleasant reunion. “Sure, Satoru. We played poker together, don’t you remember? You could never hold your pokerface. You’re still horrible at bluffing, I see.”

“Call my fucking bluff then,” Gojo spits.

“I have been, all these years. We both know why I’m still alive.” Geto says calmly.

“But you know that I won’t overlook this. I don’t know what you’re thinking, Suguru, but there’s only so much I can sweep under the rug. Especially with…with them, and you know that.”

“Oh, yes, I certainly do.” He smiles easily, eyes crinkling as if he is particularly pleased.

This unnerves Gojo even more.

Geto startles when Gojo suddenly appears mere inches from him. He’s never before witnessed his former friend with an aura this agitated and full of aggression, with cursed energy so inflamed and oppressive. Gojo seems so tall in this moment, towering over Geto even though they’re practically the same height.

Geto finally feels a sliver of doubt. Gojo has never been able to harm him, or rather, could never bring himself to. Geto has known this and has exploited this, in fact—but right now, for the first time, he can’t help but wonder if today is the day.

“What the fuck are you doing, Suguru?” Gojo asks lowly, anger bleeding in to his tone despite his efforts to stifle it.

Geto laughs. If only he knew. If only he knew that he would soon be on his knees, reality falling apart, finally succumbing to Geto’s worldview.

“I don’t think that’s the right question,” Geto shakes his head, his voice teasing—mocking. “Wouldn’t it be ‘What have I done?’”

He watches the color drain from Gojo’s face as his meaning sinks in. Something has been done to you, and it might be irreversible. You might be…you might be de—

Gojo sharply inhales as his mind goes blank with fury. His entire mind is consumed with the thought of strangling Geto. He can’t get the image of his hands around his throat, hurting him like he must have hurt you, life draining from his twisted eyes, to fade away. The fiery rage in him is triggering the euphoria he gets with a taste of violence—when he almost goes mad, addicted to his own strength and invincibility.

But…but you. What about you? What if you’re still alive?

The violence falls away, cast away by thoughts of you. All it takes is a single second of your smile, an echo of your sweet laugh, for him to singularly focus on you. If you’re alive, he needs to find you right now.

And the next time Geto blinks, he is greeted on with an icy breeze, as the figure in front of him has vanished. Geto doubles over in laughter, thinking that he has won. He will be the one to break THE Gojo Satoru, or at least shatter the weapon the jujutsu higher-ups love to use. This weapon will be at his disposal; with Gojo Satoru by his side again, the extermination of the human race will be finally be within his grasp.

That’s assuming that your heart has stopped beating. Geto, who chooses to be a fool, does not even check. Even though Nanako relayed that you were breathing a few minutes ago, his arrogance and hope to break Satoru exceed any doubt.

Gojo is also a fool, or so he thinks. He wasted so much time on Geto, who had him so easily transfixed by his vague mentions of you. He should have just searched for you from the start.

Thundering footsteps and calls of your name now echo through the house in which you reside. Finally able to focus solely on you after separating from Geto, Gojo frantically searches the house, going from room to room as fast as he can.

He hadn’t acknowledged it to Geto, but he’s been here before, that time when he had to confirm with his own eyes the extent of Geto’s crimes. It doesn’t bode well with him that Geto chose this place to house you—the place where he slaughtered dozens of people, his first step to breaking away from jujutsu society.

Gojo finds himself profusely sweating—whether it’s from fear or from sprinting through this maze of a house, he can’t tell. But after learning practically nothing from Geto except that he has done something to you, Gojo can’t keep the bubbling anxiety at bay for much longer.

The panic rises acutely in Gojo once he realizes something—he feels so blind, running around like a chicken with its head cut off, because there is no cursed energy to detect. Your distinctive energy that led him from your home until here, is nowhere to be found, as if it has been extinguished.

He can’t breathe. His chest feels tight, and he is practically wheezing as he continues to rush around the rooms, scanning them with his bare eyes since he doesn’t trust his Six-Eyes right now. It’s illogical, he knows, but maybe his eyes are broken and that’s why he can’t see your energy. He refuses to give any serious thought to the alternative—if you didn’t have any cursed energy anymore, then that would mean…

He enters the last room—this room is larger than the rest, implying its greater importance, but is practically empty. It’s one of the the most minimalist looking bedrooms Gojo has even stepped foot in. The only thing that immediately captures his attention is a neat stack of papers that sit on the desk. He instantly recognizes the scrawl on the top paper as Geto’s. It pains him that he still remembers a detail as minute as that about Suguru.

His gaze migrates to the rest of the room, namely to the bed that is nestled into the furthest corner. His heart lurches. The fact that he didn’t notice this immediately, not used to relying solely on his normal vision, isn’t good. Him not noticing someone usually means they’re not with the living.

Only steps away, there is a figure strewn out over the sheets, unmoving and looking rather ragged. Hair unkempt, lips cracked, clothes bloodied, chest still.

Chest still.

He immediately moves to you, not wasting a second as takes a place by your bedside.

“No, no, no,” Satoru whispers, as if speaking too loudly will mean that this is reality, that maybe if you don’t wake up it’ll be because he didn’t speak loudly enough. Though soft, his voice is urgent and pleading. “Please no. Please don’t be true.”

He instantly scoops you up, handling your weight easily. He cradles you close to him as if you could disappear from his arms at any moment—and maybe, if you could see yourself, you’d understand that his fears aren’t unfounded, as you truly look as if your life force could fade at any moment. He then notices a rivulet of blood running from your mouth—he tries to gently brush it away, but ends up smearing it onto both your chin and his hand. Anger fills him when he thinks what Geto must have done to reduce you to this state.

Your eyelids begin to flutter open at his touch and warmth, but Satoru still sees more of your long eyelashes than your unusually dull eyes. They will not open past halfway, no matter how hard you try. In your disoriented state, you don’t notice Gojo’s sigh of relief, or how his grip on you tightens as if to remind himself that you’re here, you’re alive and breathing, you’re safe in his arms.

Through the spots in your eyes, you see a halo of white and two luminescent blue eyes. As your vision clears, you admire the light filtering through his translucent hair, which makes him appear angelic. Of course, he is as beautiful as the last time you saw him.

“Satoru? ‘S that you?” You manage to ask, and you sound raspier than a chronic smoker, much to your displeasure. You cringe internally, knowing how awful you must look and sound right now. You know it doesn’t matter how disheveled you look when you’re on the brink of death—and yet you can’t help but worry about it while you’re in his presence.

“You’re so cold,” Is his softly spoken answer. “God, I really thought– I thought that—”

If you didn’t know any better, you would say he sounds despaired. But that can’t be right—there’s no way he still cares about you. Not after his cold and harsh behavior towards you, not after he got together with Utahime—he can’t care. Or at least, not how you want to be cared by him.

After a few moments of silence, it’s evident that Gojo doesn’t intend to finish his sentence. Even in your hazy state of mind, you can guess what he was going to say. You do look awful, probably even worse than the last time you had a chance to look in the mirror.

“I think you’re just warm,” You tease weakly, with a smile full of too much amusement when considering the situation, when considering your condition. Now you’re playing Gojo’s role: joking when you should be serious.

It hurts Gojo to see the gentleness in your smile, gentleness and goodness that reveal how truly soft-hearted you are. Your natural softness after what you’ve been through—it angers him.

“No, I can’t be. It’s snowing outside,” He says, growing more upset with each sentence. “But you’re– you’re even colder than that. Your skin is—it’s like ice. You’re making me fucking worried!”

You blink rapidly, startled by his show of strong emotion but even more surprised by the glimmer of near tears in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” You say quietly, although neither you nor him know what exactly you’re apologizing for.

“That’s not what I meant,” He says, sighing, pulling you tighter to him. “I’m just…I was worried before I came, but now I’m really scared for you.”

“You are? You have been?” You blurt out automatically and mindlessly, eyes wide open now. You look so surprised that Satoru can’t help but chuckle a little, though it pains him that you don’t seem to believe him.

Heat rises to your face and you squirm a bit in his arms, now suddenly aware of your closeness, of all his skin touching yours. He quells your movement with a brush of his hand on your arm, encouraging you to stay still.

“You shouldn’t move too much. You really don’t look too good, angel,” He says, voice tight and threatening to break. “What did he do to you?”

Hah. You must look so disgusting and beat up that he assumes Geto hurt you. You smile weakly to yourself, wondering what he would think if you said you had looked like this for days.

“He didn’t,” You simply say, not seeming to have any intention to clarify. “This is how he found me. How could something like this happen overnight?”

You’re astounded by your own honesty. It’s always been difficult to be completely transparent for you, especially to Satoru—always trying to brush things off, make excuses for people, diminish your own pain in order not to bother or worry others.

Your words cut deep through Gojo and instantly take his breath away.

How could something like this happen overnight?

He hasn’t seen you since the day he rudely brushed you off, and it has been weeks since then. In the months before that dreadful interaction, he had only seen you one-on-one a handful of times. He knows you didn’t mean anything by your words, but he can’t help but feel guilt and karma very sharply. He deserves this after ignoring you for so long, even if he thought it was for the best.

You begin to cough, and it’s a horrible grating noise. It’s a miracle this didn’t happen sooner, although you wish that Gojo wouldn’t see this at all.

“You should go,” You croak out between coughs. “Leave me here, get away from Geto. It’s…it’s too late for me. Leave me.”

Gojo lightly rolls his eyes, partly in frustration by your melodramatic reaction and partly at himself because he has made you believe that he would just leave you there.

“As if,” He says almost playfully, gaining back some of his personality now that he has processed that you’re alive. “What are you saying? If I leave, I’m leaving with you. Just gimme a second to call Shoko, she’ll get everything prepared as always, she’ll be annoyed but she always has a soft spot for you—”

“No,” You interrupt Gojo, your voice firmer than he’s heard from you in a long time. “I told you, there’s no saving me.”

The dread sets in. Why are you so insistent on that?

He opens his mouth, about to say something, but doesn’t manage get the words out before the room is filled with rough coughing. You cough until all the air escapes from your lungs—and then you’re wheezing and choking on nothing.

“You okay? Tell me what’s going on,” He asks in an even tone, but he is anything but calm, especially when you are thrown into another coughing fit. “Angel? It’s okay, just breathe.”

Gojo places you back onto the bed, elevates your back so you’re in a sitting position, and begins to pat on your back in the hopes that it’ll help regulate your breathing. What he doesn’t realize, though, is that you’re not just having a panic attack. Something is actually lodged in your airways.

You begin to choke and gag. Satoru’s eyes are wide when he realizes that something is wrong, something is horribly wrong. He pats your back harder, the force beginning to push your body forward.

“Well, it’s finally started, has it? A little late, but no matter.”

Gojo’s head whips to the door so fast it almost gives him whiplash. He has been so focused on you that he didn’t even sense Geto’s sudden presence. He rests on the doorframe, watching with interest sparkling in his eyes.

“What’s going on here?” Gojo asks, accusatory, but is so scared to hear the answer that he almost wishes neither respond.

“Just watch and you’ll understand,” Geto says knowingly, easily. Everything is unfolding as it should, he’s glad to see.

Geto looks to Gojo smugly, wanting to see the fear swimming in his uncovered eyes, but is completely caught off guard by the intensity of his gaze. Adrenaline quickly courses through Geto’s veins, the type that spiderwebs through your tingling palms and traces icy fingers down your spine, for the first time in years. The true fight-or-flight feeling, reminiscent of when he first fought a high-level curse. But now it’s from Gojo’s hardened blue eyes boring into his own, penetrating down to his very soul, like a god passing divine judgment.

Your hacking interrupts the tense face off. Gojo is the one who looks away, but Geto does not feel as if he is backing down. He is ashamed to admit that he feels waves of relief once Gojo tends to you again. Unsettled, Geto takes a few steps away from the doorframe, retreating into the hallway away from Gojo’s scrutinizing gaze.

You don’t notice it, but of course you can’t in your state. At least, not when you feel it coming.

The thorns and stiff branches begin to scratch your throat. The numerous petals suffocate you and are slow to rise as they are heavy with blood. You grip Satoru’s wrist tightly to get his attention.

“Go,” You manage wheeze out. “Leave. Don’t want you to…see.”

He looks at you with so much horror in his eyes, looking even more scared than you feel. You can visually see the gears turning in his head, connecting the dots. Your weakness, your coughing, the blood from your mouth, the fact that this ‘couldn’t happen overnight’—

A blue petal escapes from your lips. It spins through the air, right before Gojo’s eyes, confirming his worst fears.

This must be a nightmare. It has to be a nightmare. Maybe he hallucinated the petal. Maybe you can still be saved, even though your coughing keeps getting worse and worse.

But then there’s something he can’t deny out of existence. As he rubs your back, helping you through your coughing and gagging, you cough up what he feared most. His heart rate skyrockets as he lays eyes on what you coughed up. A flower.

A flower the color of his eyes, the beauty of it corrupted by your blood that drenches it. A flower that’s meant for him. A flower that means you love him and that you don’t believe he loves you back.

Pain shoots through him, spikes working under his chest. He brought this on you. He thought he was protecting you, but instead he has been slowly killing you from the inside.

“No…” He whispers, unbelieving.

For some reason, you smile. Just a tiny quirk of your lips and the crinkling of your eyes as you look up at him. It’s a real smile, one he hasn’t seen in so long. And it hits him: one he might never see again, if he doesn’t fix this.

“No!” Gojo gasps out, not wanting to believe his eyes. “No, angel, no. Not this. This– this can’t be real. Why? Why did this happen to you?”

It’s cruel, but he knows very well why. He vied for your affection for years and years and has loved you for just about as long. And yet you are the one cursed to this fate, due to his denial erroneously leading him to Utahime and the suppression of his feelings leaving him to heartlessly ignore you.

You stare up at him with wide eyes, shame flickering through them. You didn’t want him to find out.

“‘Can’t help it,” You say weakly. “Not when it comes to you. Always sort of knew, but I figured it out recently. By then, though, you were…gone.”

He shakes his head frantically, words coming out in a jumble as he desperately tries to explain. “I just wanted to protect you. The higher-ups were after you—I thought I had to let go of you. I-I never thought this would happen. I never knew that you…”

“It’s okay, Satoru. I understand,” You say, holding back tears. “I’ve accepted it. It’s okay that you don’t feel the same. You have…you have her and that’s enough for me.”

You smile again. So bright, so genuine, and yet so painful.

“No! I…”

He wants to vehemently deny it, but the words get stuck in his throat. For years he has swallowed his feelings and never truly allowed himself to feel or speak them. The deepest feelings in his heart have never risen to the surface to be shared; they have always pooled deep in his soul, away from prying eyes and hearts.

But now they are so close to be verbally admitted that they are in his throat, choking him. He looks into your eyes and is overwhelmed by the waves of emotion that crash over him; it’s uncomfortable and even painful.

He has always shoved down his emotion for you. Any time he has ever shown his true feelings, about you aside, is when you eased it out of him. He has never divulged any real emotion on his own.

Despite his natural instincts screaming at him to keep it inside, despite the knot in his throat choking him, this time, he lets himself be overwhelmed.

“I love you. I always have,” He speaks, voice trembling with emotion. “Even when I didn’t know it yet. (Y/N), I’ve always liked you. I used to try so hard for you during school, always trying to get your attention. Remember how I never left you alone? You’d get so annoyed at me. Shoko and Geto said I was so obvious…”

Now that he’s started, he can’t seem to stop.

“I know I’ve fucked up recently, but it’s not…it’s not because I don’t have feelings for you. They’ve never once faded, even when I tried to ignore them. I tried with Utahime because I couldn’t get you out of my head, even though I needed to. The higher-ups have been targeting you, and I thought it was because of me, so I had to prove to them that you weren’t close to me. I even went out with Utahime, who hated my guts, but that…didn’t work out. It wasn’t fair to her—she herself realized how in love with you I am.”

He looks at you with an emotion you can’t place—it fills you with warmth and brings tears to your eyes. You sniffle a little, wondering if this is a cruel trick because this just cannot be real. There is no way in the world that Gojo Satoru went to look for you after months of radio silence. There is no way that he is here, right now, admitting feelings you never once suspected.

A sob wracks your body, even though you try your hardest to keep it in. You cover your face with your hands when you can’t stop yourself from the absolute meltdown that ensues, trying to preserve your dignity. He can’t love you, he just can’t.

“Don’t do that,” He says softly, gently easing your hands away from your face. “You don’t have to hide from me. God, I’m so sorry, angel. I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault.”

He leans in close, wanting to embrace you but not knowing if he even deserves to hold you. You sense his hesitance when he comes near you, and you think that this is the most vulnerable you’ve ever seen him. His hand slowly comes to your face to caress your cheek, to wipe away your pathetic tears, and you are shocked at the drops that fall on your skin from above.

“You don’t believe me, do you?” He chuckles weakly, tears freely falling, his words an echo of your own mind. “I shouldn’t be surprised, but please…please try. I don’t want anything more to happen to you.”

And you do try. You do, but you feel so tired and weak. Your vision is starting to go out of focus and your ears are ringing. Your body is telling you that it will soon give up. Your body is ready to give up, but you aren’t.

You lock eyes with him as best as you can, your heart skipping from the prolonged eye contact. If only you could have always been able to look into his eyes like this.

“Satoru, I think it’s pretty obvious by now, but…no matter how hard I try, I can’t stop loving you. Not even if it kills me…” You smile sadly. “And I think it might.”

“But I love you!” He cries, and it comes out as a plea. Tears stream down his face. “I don’t understand, I love you, (Y/N)! Is it– is it someone else? It’s okay if it is, I’ll take you to them and—”

You laugh, causing blood to dribble down your chin. “Even after all that studying, you can’t think. I already said it, but should I say it again? I love you, Satoru.”

“Then why? It was just one flower. You should- you should be fine. Please be fine.”

“The flower,” You explain hoarsely. “That wasn’t the first one. I’ve already coughed up a lot of them. Too many. I think my fate has been sealed for a while. I’m sorry, Satoru. I’m a fool. I finally learn that you love me, and I’m like this.”

He’s frozen for a moment, everything sinking in. Your life is no longer suspended in his hands, but rather in death’s treacherous grasp. There is no telling how long you have left.

In the next moment, he quickly gathers you in his arms, scooping you up effortlessly from the bed.

“You’re not dying on me,” He says, trying to assume his regular calm. “I won’t let you. We’ll figure this out, o-okay? Please angel, just fight it a bit more for me. We’ll leave right now, I’m sure Shoko can handle this.”

You nod, seeing through his false calm. “Satoru…I want you to know that even if I d—”

He shakes his head resolutely. “Tell me when you’re all better, okay? Promise me.”

Time feels suspended when you look into his eyes again, all of your emotions showing through them as if this is the last time you’ll ever see each again in this world.

You never get to promise him. Instead, Geto’s loud and commanding voice startles the two of you. “You’re not leaving with them.”

“Like hell I’m not,” Gojo snarls. “Like you can stop me.”

He closes his eyes, mentally easing into his large store of cursed energy, and prepares himself to make the familiar teleportation route to Tokyo Tech. But something’s different this time—his eyes fly open, pupils blowing wide, when he hits a block he never has before.

“You can’t teleport once you’re inside this barrier,” Geto explains calmly, voice as smooth and slow as molasses. “Thought you might pull something like this.”

You’re glad you didn’t promise him. Your ears ring again, and you feel so dizzy that you can’t keep your eyes from closing, even though you hear him begging you to keep them open.

The conversation between Geto and Gojo is lost on you with your fading hearing. You only hear their vague intonations and cadences, shouting and cursing. And then you’re being jostled wildly. Gojo is running with you in his arms, making a break for the edge of the barrier—that much you can surmise by the loud thumps and his erratic breathing.

You’re fading fast. You mumble out his name, giving everything you have just to open your eyes.

He’s so beautiful. The moonlight catches in his silver hair and reflects through his blue eyes you’ve always loved so much. You gaze into them as if they were pools you could dive into, endless depths of his soul. You wish you could spend more time looking at his eyes, just like this.

You hear his voice you could listen to for hours. He usually has a sly, silver tongue, but not today. It is weak and wavers. It bares the true feelings of the strongest today. “Don’t you dare die on me, angel!”

You wish you could promise him that, but your eyes close without your permission.

part iv

TAGLIST: @certainduckanchor @kawaiivillainess98 @arehzhera @starrylibras @mandysfanfics @rain-and-a-nice-nap @csillana @sup-hoes-its-me @llliissuu @hawkdaddy1111 @dcvilxswish @angel-kyo @eliz-lovesgojo @5268r @wooasecret @timetobegone @ceronnica @torusblindfold @mo0nforme @crookedlyaddictedtodark-blog @soapysofi @sadmonke @shartnart1 @dummyf @adoraspace @allie-jay @notgoodforlife @spin-garden @astrokatsuki @reiluvr @kinny-away @turtl3-warr1or

a/n: not Geto listening to the confession like 🧍‍♂️

ahhh I’m so sorry it took this long!!! Thank you for your patience! basically I had a pretty long draft written out and it yeeted itself out of this world (😭😭😭 legit have no idea what happened to it) and was really frustrated by that, so I didn’t return to this for a long while…Anyway, I’m glad to be back!!

There will be another part! Sorry not sorry about the cliffhanger/ambiguous ending. 😳

Btw I’m really sorry to all Geto lovers out there, I feel like I always do Geto dirty and write him as some evil unfeeling man 💀💀 but I swear I don’t actually hate his character and I think he’s a lot more complex than I write him…🥴

Thank you for reading! 💙🩵

[quivm]

— Miles Morales' future.

Earth 42 Miles Morales x gn reader light light angst (?). minors can interact! major spoilers for across the spiderverse. ૮ ˶´ ᵕˋ ˶ა

wc: 1.2k

genre + warnings:

very light angst if it even is idk who to describe it. extreme possessiveness (yandere), implied manipulation, implied death, kidnapping, being followed, gn reader but feminine pet names are used

notes!! i saw @ichangedmycornyahhname work of 42 Miles and got so inspired i was so happy. i watched ATSV the day it came out and saw 42 Miles was working in alchemax when they looked at where the spider came from so 42 Miles is really smart and my brain went smart villain = dangerous / manipulative with his intelligence ?? i love this headcannon so part 2 or other ff with this hc is definitely pending o(≧▽≦)o

Your steps hastened, desperate to reach the end of the alleyway. Your unbridled heartbeat raged as the echoes of the rapid steps behind you increased. The dread and unease of the situation washed over your body as you came to the reality of the situation - you were being followed.

Anxiety at the forefront of the many emotions bubbling up worsened your ability to keep a level head. Realistically, your capture was unlikely. The claim Miles had on you was well known throughout the criminal world as an unspoken rule. Never touch any hair on your head. An immense help in day to day life in the overpoliced and crime riddled city of New York but you didnt know that.

This time though it seemed that unspoken immunity ran out, seeing as you were targeted after closing up shop and walking home. Words could not describe the terror that fell into your stomach as an icy hand lurched forward subduing you.

“Where are you going pretty? You have a nice bag, huh.”

This was it. Your end would not be in action or helping people. No, your deeming end was going to be by a group of thoughtless thugs way over their heads. When a frosty cloth was pressed against your nose it reaffirmed your thoughts. This was your deathbed.

____

A dreary house was the first sight you saw as you gained consciousness. The organised but messy state made it abundantly clear to you someone was in constant use of it, although it was not welcoming or homey. Fires and mayhem in the skyline gleamed in the window, a bittersweet view. Sadden because that was your life forever unless you leave NYC- which you could never afford but reassuring in the fact that you were still in Brooklyn as harrowing as it is.

Times like this made you resent Brooklyn, there was no one to help. The police had more problems than officers, criminals were rampant and encouraged. The city felt empty, everyone was on their own to see the next day. Community was fragile and easy to shatter into a moment of the past.

Fright jolted up your spine. The heavy steps clanged toward the door. Even though you were not tied up it was a matter of time. Maybe the men would let you go? Maybe they were here to tie you up? Racing through your mind all sort of nonsense was thought about, until the step stopped right outside the door. The door creaked open, on its last leg.

The illuminating light from the hallway and window shone on you. Survival was the only thought on your mind, though fleeting and hopeless. It seemed only achievable through pretending to be asleep. Your motionless body layed frigid, shallow breaths was all that seemed manageable as the heavy boot came to a stop right infornt of you.

“I know you're awake.”

The short and sweet statement shook your world. Fear paralysing you as you reacted by trembling inconsolably as you cracked open your eyes. The dizzying onslaught of purple welcomed you as you looked at your kidnapper. Horror consumed your soul. It was the prowler. Contradicting previous thoughts, you knew you were over your head.

Before the tears pooled in your eyes could drop, as well as your pride as you were getting ready to beg for mercy, another statement from the masked man was made in the same chilling voice although this time laced with amusement.

“Calm down princesa it’s me.”

The sound of the mask slowly unveiling the man underneath echoed throughout the room. Confusion bloomed in your mind. Everything you knew blown out the window leaving only fright and shock.

“Miles?”

Your rough around the edges, attentive boyfriend who treated you with the utmost respect was the prowler? The prowler who everyone in NYC knew. The man with no enemies as he took them all out. The man who created New York into the shit hole it was today was your Miles? The universe must hate you and everything you stand for because worthwise why would it play the shitest card it has on you.

You knew Miles was on the streets doing crime, he told you when the relationship got serious. As concerning as it was you knew you couldn’t stop it and tried to help him any way you could to make sure he got home safe. But you never expected he wasn’t just on the crime scene he ran it for the whole of New York. That changes everything.

“Mi vida, I know this is a shock-”.

“No! This is more than a shock Miles!”

Everything your relationship was built on was slowly chipping away. You both shared the most vulnerable intimate parts of your lifes, you thought you knew him. But he was practically a stranger. A second life untouched and hidden away which made him who he was today. This wasn’t something that could be blown over. With more confidence and left over adrenaline you stood up next to him.

“Why am I here Miles?”

This large reveal couldn’t take your mind off last night's events. You were kidnapped by a group of men and then you suddenly woke up here with Miles. Did that mean Miles ordered it? He could have come to see you though. None of it made sense and you needed clarity.

“Last night you were touched by some low lives. That's unacceptable princessa. I went over with Uncle Aaron and took care of them, don’t worry you're safe now.”

The gentle caressing of his hand on your cheek which would have been comforting in any other context wafted the smell of iron to your nose and felt inexplicably cold on your cheek. You knew what being ‘taken care of’ mean’t, you caused deaths. You were Miles’ and he was a possessive man, no one could touch you without facing the consequences. Your ability to walk downtown and come out unscathed made sense; you weren’t lucky you were a death warrant.

“Mi vida you are mine and no one could take you from me. Comprendido?”

Reality sunk in. You weren’t only Miles' partner, you were his future. He loved you, you were his lifeline to sanity after his Father died and he had shoulder the responsibilities of the family. The only semblance to normality and happiness in his life other than the close circle of loved ones that were Uncle Aaron and his Mother. And that circle only had one more space for you. He would never let go of you, he viewed you as an extension of himself. There was no where you could escape too, he owns NYC any manhunt he orders would end quickly. People feared his power and strength but laid dead from his intelligence and foresight.

There was nowhere you could run except into his arms.

[cupcakeshakesnake]

HELLO UM-

Your little Harbour PotC AU gives me absolute life, just for the record. Even tho i am very very late, thank you for making it :D

There is a headcanon I got that wouldn't leave my brain after looking at your art, originating from that one conversation between Beckett and Jack where there were some implications about canon being everyone’s previous lives. Whether this is actually a part of your au or not, it got me thinking eheheh

Theoretically, (perhaps in an au of an au, if this headcanon contradicts your lore,) what if your au and canon were the same 'verse, just several hundred years later? And what if not everybody were on their second life?

We obviously have a sprinkling of supernatural stuff, so what if the secretly-a-goddess Calypso and immortally-cursed Davy Jones were the OGs that they were in the films? Like, Davy Jones maybe came back somehow (as per movie 5's end-credit scene lol) and took back the role of the Dutchman's Captian after Will went back to Shipwreck Cove. All is good.

He learned his lesson now and actually does his job of ferrying souls. As times changed, so did his ship, in some magical way. She's no longer a sailing ship, and he'll always miss that, but he doesn't mind all that much. His crew usually only stay for that 100 yr contract, so he's seen plenty of sailors come and go. Eventually, he even hires living mortals. Less people die at sea, so by the 20th century, Jones takes a mortal job as a fisherman (or whatever his job is in your au) as well.

Whether or not he knows about the whole reincarnation thing doesn't really matter; the day he employs a familiar man by the name of Bill Turner, he chalks it up to coincidence. Even if Bill has a son named William, well- it's been 200 years, perhaps it's just a really really big coincidence. Either way, it doesn't matter to him.

It's not until he's docked in a small, out-of-the-way harbour, and three troublemaking kids sneak onto the Dutchman that he finally realises. Bill's boy, on his own, is just a matter of coincidence. Those three, together? It's unmistakable. And as bothersome those three pirates were, so long ago, I'd like to think that he looks back on that age, on those people, with some kind of fondness.

(Until he discovers they can be the most INFURIATING little gremlins he's ever met in all his centuries. But he'll find that out later.)

Anyway I drew it :D Have my humble, scribbly offerings.

(I feel bad about running away with this, even as just a headcanon-of-an-au, please don't take this as a 'you should do this' lmao, it's just me adoring all of your content it makes my brain go brrr you are amazing thankyou!!!)

This is so lovely 😭😭😭

The idea of Calypso and Jones being the same ones from canon but just... having had a lot of time to chill down and have a second chance is so??? Imagine what Jones must be thinking looking at those kids... this is so bittersweet (but mostly sweet)

I'm sorry it took so long to respond, I wanted to write a proper reply expressing just how much I love this but couldn't get around to it. Hope you don't mind me posting this publicly; I need everyone else to see this as well.

[skrrts]

Heart's Contradiction Series * Hongjoong (mature!)

✧ gn!reader x hongjoong ✧ reader is a human ; hongjoong is a demon ✧ feat. wooyoung & seonghwa ✧ genre: au, soulmates, villains, romance, angst, emotional, comfort, supernatural ✧ word count: 12,9k ✧ warnings: adult language, death (non graphic) & rebirth, losing something important to you, loneliness, sadness, bittersweet, mdni!

in a world where finding your soulmate is everyone's highest goal, there is more at stake than just finding love. your soulmate is meant to change your life forever, for better or worse. what will you do when, after searching for so long, you come to realize that your soulmate is seen as the villain in somebody else's story, maybe even your own? the legend about the demon who tears lovers apart is as old as the soulmate bond itself, those who cannot endure living without their other half any longer call for him and in exchange for half of their lifetime, are united with their one right away until the monster returns to collect his price. when you heard noises on the second floor of your apartment complex, you didn't really think it through. the moment you pushed the door open and your gazes met, it was over. you know it's him, not because of the red string only visible to you but because soulmates are made of one soul and for the first time, you are sure to meet a pair of eyes that match your loneliness. time is a strange thing, you waited for something for so long, but as always, it's slipping right through your fingers. again.

a/n: this was meant to be the closing piece of the series due to the topics it covers but it ended up working easier for me to write. joong is the villain in the story of soulmates who give in to their longing to find them for a price. please make sure to read the warnings. if you decide to give it a read, thanks a lot 🤎

You made a face when Wooyoung placed the cake in your hands so he could lighten the candles. The topping said ‘Happy You Day’, fitting for somebody who did not like to celebrate their own birthday and your friend respected it by not using that word to decorate it. After years, he figured out you’d accept the cake but not much more. Birthdays just never mattered to you, not only because no family was there to celebrate it with you but you failed to see why one should only celebrate life on one specific day. It was even worse if one believed that soulmates really used to be one soul split into two on that day, even if they only were separated to finally be reunited.

“Make a wish,” Wooyoung smiled and you sighed a little but closed your eyes. What should you wish for? Your life wasn’t too bad, really. You were used to being alone, doing everything by your own efforts but also interests. From your childhood up to this point, you simply got used to that. You had friends, especially Wooyoung, but when you went home after a long day, that was it.

Unlike the entire world, you weren’t looking for your soulmate. There was not one way that worked for each to find them, fate was the asshole to decide over it, so why should you freak out about it? You were tired of the daily acts of desperation in the news: people who commited crimes to be with their soulmates, those who lost all will to live because theirs died or scammers promising to find it for you.

For Wooyoung to always be happy! It seemed like a good wish! You blew out the candles and watched Wooyoung with his cute, little claps and smile. He really was a great friend and you felt bad for being all grumpy about it. “Thank you for the cake, they get prettier every year,” you winked and he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck.

“I am working on it! Ah, I am sorry I cannot stay around this year to eat it with you, and that we are doing this on the street literally,” he sighed, looking at the watch. 

“Nonsense! You will absolutely get the job, this is my birthday after all and with this, I shall give you the power to fullfil your dreams!” You insisted and he was looking at you with a small smile.

“You really are amazing, Y/N. You know, I won’t ever stop admiring you… Hey, let’s meet on Tuesday and we cook together, okay?” You nodded and Wooyoung turned around, waving before he finally went out of sight and you sighed, lifting the cake up a little higher: “Now, what do we do with you? I won’t ever be able to eat all of you by my own until you can’t even survive in the fridge anymore.”

With some skill, you managed to get the cake safely back into your small apartment, placing it in the fridge for later before kicking off your shoes and leaving your bag and jacket by the door. It was Friday, this was probably the best of all birthday gifts because like that you could dodge most of your co-workers with their unserious wishes. 

You grabbed an energy drink, deciding to make use of it and binge-watch a show all night when you fell onto the couch. Upon searching for the remote, you leaned over to see if it fell into one of the cardboard boxes. It had been a few months since you moved in but there just were some you had no reason to unbox, memories of a time gone, unsure why you kept them. 

As you pulled out the remote, your eyes fell on a silly book. You picked it up and brushed over the dusty cover. Humans always loved to scare their children from doing something naughty with stories. The book was about an evil monster, one that came and promised you to find your soulmate but for that, you’d lose something else important to you, so if you saw him, you were meant to rush out of the room, close the door and repeat for him to go away. 

“Tch, considering how soulmates exist, who can blame some for believing this exists too.” 

It was an old story, one ironically everyone knew. It said if you called out for a demon, he would find your soulmate for you but in return, you had to sell your soul to him and one day, he’d just come and claim it and then you died. 

You dropped the book on the table and started the first few episodes of the show but somehow, you didn’t really get into it at all. The cake came back to mind again and you forced yourself up, cutting out a single slice and shoved a fork in your mouth. You did have to give it to Wooyoung , while his decoration skills had room for improvement, the taste always was on point. 

“This is how you spent your twenty-sixth birthday,” you nodded to yourself before suddenly, there was a loud boom which led for you to drop the plate with the cake, it crashed on the floor, shattering.

“Fuck!” you cursed and looked around, grabbing something to start and pick up the shards, followed by a towel to try and clean up. When you sat up, you paused. Not only because there was the same sound again, although quieter this time but most of all you were staring at your wrist.

“Hell?” you were good with cursing today it seemed but as you pulled on the red string around it, the thing wouldn’t move. “What’s this?” you blinked and crossed your legs, grabbing a knife but it seemed as it was invisible to the sharp blade. The third shattering sound from the floor above yours finally let you look up. 

You swallowed thickly, standing up and pulling on your sneakers, together with your phone and your keys. You kept pulling on the string as you walked up, taking two stairs at once. Above you lived a guy in his fourties, a drunkard because his soulmate left him, likely for that. Ah, just because a soul was matching yours didn’t mean all of them received their happy ending, sometimes the human mind just didn’t live up to it.

You stood there, hesitant for a moment, your hand wasn’t shaking when you reached for the doorknob but to your surprise, the door was unlocked. It opened without a sound and you found yourself in the middle of a strange scene. The body of your neighbor was lying on the floor, but it didn’t seem as if he was breathing anymore, a shelf next to him, likely one sources of the noises, and then there was a handsome man around your age that was pulling on a string around his wrist. 

He was cursing and said something you did not understand but he didn’t notice you yet. His brown hair was dancing around delicate features with silver eyes starring at his wrist. His outfit was … a bit strange, maybe it reminded you a little of what you saw people wearing in deserts, oversized comfortable white gowns made of soft fabrics, hinting of the build underneath without showing too much, a satin scarf tied around his neck, ears adorned with a great number of earrings and piercings. They looked slightly pointed towards the end.

It was the moment he looked up that your gazes finally met and it was strange but it felt like looking in a mirror. Not because the two of you would look anything alike but there was something in his expression: you knew the gaze of eyes who had gotten adjusted to being alone because they looked back in form of your mirror’s reflection every morning for the past decade. 

He finally moved, fingers snapping as he seemed to rush to the bathroom.

“Hey! What happened here?” You finally found your voice and walked towards him but you stopped when you saw that the said bathroom door turned into something that seemed to be pitch black water. 

You were staring now and suddenly, pulled forward by your wrist. You stumbled over some pairs of shoes and made a soft sound, this was one time too many but as you tried to get up, the pull continued and before you knew it, your eyes remained on a red string. It looked like the one around your wrist but somehow it was going through the apartment now.

The stranger was busy trying to obviously walk through the water but it seemed, every time he tried, it turned into ice and very slowly, he turned around. 

“They can’t be serious, what’s this?!” For some reason, you were quite sure he was still speaking that strange language but now you understood it perfectly.

Your gaze finally completed the picture, following the red string from his wrist back to yours. As you slowly sat up, you gave it a strong pull and this time, it was him who fell, almost on top of you. He cursed and glared darkly at you.

“Stop doing this! No, this is not right!” he hissed and struggled back onto his feet but it was of no use, neither of you seemed to be able to remove that strange red string, if anything the more you tried the shorter it seemed to get. 

“No no, this can’t be no… oh no, what is this?” he started to walk up and down, and very slowly, you managed not to feel like you were going insane. Your eyes returned to your neighbor and you swallowed.

“Is he dead?”

The stranger shrugged as he bent his hair back: “What about it? His time was up. He got what he wanted, he should not have made such a fuss now that I had come to collect the payment.”

“Payment?” You were suddenly dragged to your feet and stared at him when you were so close. To your surprise, he was warm. It was silly, you figured maybe he was something like a grim reaper but he felt awfully alive like that.

“He sold his soul to me 25 years ago, half of his lifetime in exchange for his soulmate. The irony is, sometimes humans naturally shorten their lives by going for the bond. This outcomes is likely more pleasant than dying from a drunk liver.”

You shivered when he held your hand and when he tried to brush through the black water once again, it worked.  You could see how he swallowed and let go, snapping his fingers and it was just a door again. He was defeated, disappointed confused, scared?

“Stop reading my emotions!” he cursed and you blushed, having been caught for doing something you did not even know you could do.

“I do not really get half of what you are talking about … you got his soul… like in the children’s book?”

The stranger was frowning at you now, confused about the fact that there was such a thing, or maybe, he had no idea what it was? Wait, if you could experience his emotions, did that mean he also… oh. 

“I guess, whatever that means. Do you live inside of this place? Let’s go there.” He started to walk again and you were dragged, hissing: “Could you maybe stop doing this?!” Almost as he was about to tease you, he tugged on the red string again. “The sooner you follow me, the earlier we can cut this off and be done. I have to go back to hell and I won’t go there with you.” 

There were two emotions you sensed: the first one was that this was a lie, the second was desperation, maybe more doubt.

You never heard that any pair of soulmates ever managed to cut their bond, surely some tried but it couldn’t be done. 

Hongjoong’s eyes scanned through the small apartment. He had been a deal maker for around four hundred years, he saw all kinds of homes and this one was not really out of the ordinary. He noticed the broken plate on the floor, splattered with cake. The demon was trying his best to keep his thoughts collected, the last he needed for you was to be able to sense the truth.

He had no idea what was going on. It was easy, every demon found its soulmate within one hundred years of birth, with no exceptions. Until Hongjoong was born and when everyone found theirs, there was none for him. Thus two centuries passed and he simply dropped it. What was the point of being sorrowful about it? If hell said there was no demon for him, good! This job was annoying enough. Humans were silly creatures.

Hongjoong wasn’t the only one but one who took many calls, likely due to not having a soul to share, no reason to desire more resting times. It was the human who called for a demon, not the other way around. It simply was practical, they were so willing to give and demons no longer needed to be violent to regain the energy needed to ensure the balance of the world remained. Not that humans would like to know that either.

He always told them very well what was to take place, the price of it but they never listened. When the time was up and he showed to collect their life time, they grew violent just for not wanting to finish a business they got rolling.

Now, several parts about this made it hard to stay calm: First, why the fuck was his soulmate a damn human, and how was it that he found you now? Souls who did not make foolish decisions usually went into a cycle of rebirth so … where have you been all this time?

No, he was not going to fall into this now! He needed to cut this off before it was too late. Hongjoong’s eyes wandered back to you as you tugged on the string, cursing him since he ignored how you complaint about how you did not clean up, not knowing you'd have visitors and how you ignored him.

Reading the other’s emotion and a string limiting distance was a demonic trait of soulmates, not one of humans. No, theirs never was as intense and sincere, much simpler. Then he only was able to pass through the portal to the gate with you by his side, in touch which meant.

“What? Do you think I am not hot enough to be your soulmate?” you puffed your cheeks. For a human, you were taking all of those new lessons well, really.

If you did not manage to cut off the bonds tho, your time as a human was running out. It seemed that your soul already started to accustomed to his demonic presence and with this, you likely would turn into one. Then, there was no way for you to stay here, your life would be over, and thinking how human souls always begged not to leave behind what they loved...

“What’s with those dirty old shoes inside of a home?” he pointed out, finally giving you some kind of answer. It was of no use, while there was no reason to put you into a spiral of panic for the moment, it would be easier to think if you stopped treating him like a puppy on a leash.

“Before you make a big scene, yes I am a demon and yes, we do have soulmates. Then, this one is a little different, you see when your soulmate is near, the string around the wrist appears and usually, it only leads you together, you follow it and then, each keeps the one on the wrist but that’s it. With us demons, that is different. We experience everything more intense, and because we benefit from our soulmate bonds, in exchange we always have to be together, our radius to be able to walk away is short so I guess, when we threaten to leave, the string reminds us of that.”

You turned your wrist around, looking at the red string and then back to him. At least, you were quick-witted and smart because you already took notice that the string, while there, was invisible to all around you. Clothes, and objects, they just went through it like it was made of air but you could not separate, it kept your souls together and with that, the bodies.

“Can I ask some stupid questions?” you asked and Hongjoong shook his head. “Can I ask for your name? C’mon, you just said we are soulmates, what’s with all of this hesitation?”

“I told you, not to read my emotions!” You were far too good at it. Hongjoong was trying his very best to keep it at bay, somehow it seemed rude to do just that and he wondered when he suddenly became shy around a human. “Hongjoong, that’s what my name means in your human tongue anyway.” 

Yours already adjusted to his though, another warning sign that things were progressing fast.

“Hongjoong, it’s cute! I am,” you suddenly stalked closer, whispering your name to him and he was naturally withdrawing. “What are you doing?”

Oh, how you judged him for this, not only the way how your head tilted and you looked at him: “What is it? What makes you so displeased about me being your soulmate? Is it the look? The name, or because I am human?”

He was glad you did not know that he was considered abnormal because you were gone for so long and he had given up that you existed. Urgh again, he agreed with himself he did not need a soulmate! No, he could not get emotionally attached to you now, not more than the string already forced onto the both of you.

“I do not need a soulmate, my life is busy. I work a lot and demons aren’t permitted to stay in the mortal realm for long. I just told you, demonic soulmates cannot separate and since I am one, this means we are in a hassle.” 

You were so much worse than he expected. Please, where was the terror, the screams, the begging not to be tied to a monster?

“So, just take me along then, problem solved. You said you cannot go without me and it seems easier for me to go with you, I just text my coworkers I found my soulmate and I am running off with him. They likely think I am desperate enough for it.”

You said that with such lightless that for the first time, Hongjoong allowed his emotions to go through, that sense of confusion but mostly, he was finally trying to read yours properly, going deeper than the bits of curiosity, and annoyance. 

Your words were so lighthearted proving you must be used to being like that because deep down, he found a familiar, radiant pain. No, you did not say it because you were reckless and curious, you seemed to believe there was nothing for you here.

Hongjoong forced not to look through your apartment again, now wondering where it was, those human affection everyone held and it was only now that he foolishly admitted he did not look at it from your perspective. Human lives were short, you couldn’t be older than your 20s but with that, you waited for quite some time. 

His silver eyes remained on the splattered cake and he walked over, opening that metal box you all used for food storage. The cake inside told him what he needed to know to put it together. It was your birthday. Humans always celebrate them with their families and friends. You were alone, eating cake. 

“You caught me, it’s my birthday! So in theory, you owe me because I was in the middle of a celebration when your noises scared the hell out of me… I probably should not use this word as a joke anymore huh?” This time, your voice wasn’t as convincing and you bit your lip because you also slowly got used to the fact that the two of you could sense the other’s emotions.

Hongjoong did not want a soulmate. He got used to being alone. It might be silly, foolish even but the demon’s greatest fear was simple: finding his soulmate only to lose them again. You never could truly miss what you did not know but losing it after you had it, oh having felt it, after watching his friends glow up and be with theirs.

The moment he’d give into the longing, there wouldn’t be a way for him to let you go again.

He didn’t want to push the burden of being with him onto you. It would be a lonely life for a former human to live in hell with its limitations just to be called to desperate souls, uniting them with their soulmate only to know the grief you’d push them through by the time when you returned to claim them. 

It didn’t change, Hongjoong had no idea how to cut it off because deep down, he knew that there was no way but it didn’t mean he couldn’t try to save your soul. 

He would.

“Well, let’s celebrate your birthday then.”

This was not what you expected him to say. For the past half an hour, your soulmate ignored you, broadening about your situation and now, he wanted to celebrate your birthday? 

His emotions were confusing because they seemed to change all few seconds, going through confusion, being upset, and sometimes, sorrow. That one hurt, it reminded you of whenever people told you that your loneliness would end the day your soulmate would come into your life.

Nobody ever said how to deal with that creeping fear. Everyone you loved was gone, what if finding your soulmate meant hope just to have it ripped from you again? How funny, you spent so much time cursing and asking simply for a soulmate that could not die, one that was instructable when you were a teenager. Then, there was no way to lose them, right?

Now, this had come true quite literally. 

“What do you mean?” you asked as you watched him carefully taking out the cake and placing it on the counter. There were so many questions you had, about him and hell since it seemed, the two of you would spend… however long you would be able to live with him together there.

“Humans care about birthdays, we do not do that. I mean, we have celebrations but we do not put up those,” Hongjoong explained. You loved to listen to his voice, it was calm and pretty. Ah, he looked like an elf, the longer you thought about it, the less it seemed like a monster. Then, maybe they were like angels in stories, taking a more human shape to please the souls and scare them less but would he have to even try when he came to claim a soul? 

“How do you put these on…” he asked pointing at the candles. There was no way to chuckle about it and he seemed to blush just a little.” Guess, it means you cannot spy fire or something.” Your fingers opened one of the drawers and took out a lighter. 

“Well, first thing you have to learn is that just like humans have countries and differ in appearance, so are demons. It really is just an umbrella term but no, as I told you, I’m a collector. We collect the life energy so I do not steal your soul before you ask about it. That doesn’t work since soulmates exists and you need to find yours again.”

You paused, surprised that he suddenly was sharing so willingly about it and it made you wonder if that was because he was upset your thoughts were so cliche or if it was sincere. “Wait, you are telling me that humans are really reborn and then you have the same soulmate in all of them?”

Hongjoong hesitated before shrugging: ”Something like that? I can’t really go into details.” Somehow, you could sense there was a ‘now’ he did not dare to speak and it just further added to your suspicion that he was trying to hide something from you. He certainly had reasons to dislike you, hell you even could see that somebody living for centuries was not too keen to suddenly have what must feel like half a teenager stuck by his side but was it really all?

“Here, we have those. You push that little wheel and then it makes fire,” you showed it to him, offering the lighter to him. Hongjoong seemed hesitant before he took it and you admired how soft his hands looked, hell must have a pretty impressive skin care. 

It was cute to watch him struggling just a little with it but eventually, all of the five candles were lighted again, minus the one you removed earlier when taking a slice from it.

Hongjoong was holding up the cake and for the first time, you noticed his pretty eyes had no reflection. There was a wave of hesitation all over him and it really was hard to figure out just what was going on in his mind. 

“Here,” he offered it to you and you blinked.

“Actually, I already… wait a second.” You decided against mentioning how you already made a wish because he put the effort in and you did not want to be ungrateful, rushing over to pick up two juice glasses and some mineral water, uncertain if demons consumed alcohol and you honestly did not have any at home anyway.

You poured two before sitting down, smiling, and closed your eyes, thinking how you wished, you could live a life with him from the start. It sounded stupid considering you just met him but maybe then, it would be possible, to be comfortable instead of awkward. 

As you blew out the candles, his expression shifted, suddenly it was strangely soft like he was looking at an old lover he had not seen for a long time and he was just admiring you before being caught and clearing his throat, gaze torn away to place the cake back on the table. 

“Okay then, let’s eat some of it,” he said and cut another piece off, placing it on a plate. You offered him a glass and smiled: “We have to do a toast too, that’s important. Let’s drink, uhm to be good soulmates. Next life, let’s be happy together!”

Hongjoong was making a face, it was as if he was about to say something but he just sighed and accepted the water glass, toasting with you before emptying it. 

“Now eat, you should enjoy the food. We do not really eat in hell;” he mumbled and forced the plate on your lap before looking away again. You mumbled something but took it, this time enjoying the flavor and for some reason, you got sad to think how now you never would be able to tell Wooyoung in person how tasty the cake was or to see how his decorative skills would improve.

You bit your cheek, reminding yourself that the demon by your side could sense it and he already seemed so against your idea to simply go with him. Your decision did not change, it just really made sense in your eyes, you had a few friends, especially Woo but that was about it. Their lives would improve once they found their soulmates and go on without you, nobody would grieve for you being gone for long, it was just how it was.

People were always torn away from you and you were forced to suffer alone but nobody ever seemed to feel like that about you. If they did not die, they just walked out never to return.

“I don’t look like that!” Hongjoong’s offended voice tore you out of your thought train and you looked up, seeing him holding up the children's book, finger pointing at the scary monster. “Sure, I am not the only collector but none of us looks like this! Also, what’s this with we steal your soul and will just disappear if you close the door and speak our name!”

You could not hold back the laugh because the demon was taking this so awfully seriously, you could feel how he was annoyed by the portrayal of the demons who helped humans find their soulmates in exchange for their lives.

“Well, it’s supposed to be a scary story. In the eyes of the people, your kin is somewhat of a villain, you know? Making use of the insecure humans who just want to find their missing piece and soulmate,” you explained and Hongjoong’s eyes glanced over it again before dropping it. 

“Tch, it’s them who calls us and we actually put the effort in to look good, so it is not scary at all.” You leaned in and for the first time, dared to come a little closer to him. “So you look different in hell?”

 Your soulmate was studying you carefully, before shrugging: “Not necessarily, let’s say our features are a little sharper, some of us do have like wings or horns but I’d not say… I have a hard time to assume if you find it scary, humans seem so easily terrified.” 

Interesting, then nobody really could blame them for being upset when angels always were portrayed so beautifully although their original descriptions were rather terrifying.

“What are you doing?” Hongjoong froze the moment you grew bold and your hands rested on both of his cheeks. His breath lowered and he looked down, to see how your fingers brushed along his sharp jawline.

“You are beautiful, you know? I mean it, you really are. I almost feel a little ashamed I am so… simple,” you whispered and to your surprise, he was now turning the tables. His movement was so quick and sharp, you did not see it coming how he grabbed your chin gently, lifting it a little as his white eyes looked over your face.

“I do not see it, you being simple. You are pretty, to me anyway. We are soulmates, you could look any shape or form and we are still meant to adore each other, you know? Now, what do I do with you? Not afraid, eager to move to hell, being so bold with a demon. You really want to come with me?”

You swallowed, throat went dry when his voice was husky at the end, almost a little threatening. Then, very slowly, you nodded. The red string around your wrists relaxed it wasn’t as tense anymore as it was in the past hour.

Hongjoong looked at you for a moment before withdrawing and standing up, when he acted, he always confused you because his emotions never seemed to match. There was this odd feeling of guilt that came over your connection but you had little time to think of it. When he asked you, the last you expected was the snap of the finger and how he simply carried you through the black water.

Somehow, you figured you would have some time to text your goodbyes before moving casually to hell. 

Hongjoong dropped you carefully, watching your expression as you looked around. Ah yes, humans had very specific ideas of what hell would look like and you were likely surprised to realize, that some parts of it did not look so much alike to your own world. The part where most of the collectors resided was not unlike an oasis in the middle of a desert, with elegant buildings craved out of sandstone, vast plants, and plays of water rushing through the city.

“This is different,” you breathed, looking around like you just ended up on vacation. It was hard to deal with your strong emotions, it seemed as time passed by, the bond increased and Hongjoong grew worried about how much time he would have to safe you before you’d turn into a demon. 

It was hard to tell why he was so adamant about it. Was it really only because once he grew accustomed to you losing you would be too painful or was it something else? He could not shake off this fear of how he somehow knew you’d not be able to endure the life of a collector, how every human begging you not to take their life often at their happiest…

His thoughts were interrupted when Seonghwa came around the corner, he was humming, his soul string relaxed. This guy somehow managed to cheat the soulmate bond, maybe because his soulmate was just as gentle and trusting but also cheeky as the older demon. 

It was when his gaze landed on the human that he froze: “You?”

You turned around and Hongjoong was quick to step by your side, forcing you to stand behind you. Not that Seonghwa would pose any threat to you or well, anyone else. Demons were quite strict when it came to soulmates, it was a big thing here, much more than up there for you humans. Hurting another's soulmates was considered the biggest crime.

“It’s complicated… but you need to help us to cut it somehow,” Hongjoong lifted his hand, pulling gently on the string. He was a little taken back to see his best friend all confused as he was looking at you strangely before finally, Hwa’s golden eyes focused on him.

“Okay, slow down there, Joongie. You just found your soulmate, let’s ignore it’s a human, and you want to cut it, now why would any sane soul do this?”

“I agree,” you announced and then just walked past him, causing a blush on his cheeks when you seemed so trusting with Seonghwa like you had known him forever. 

“Nice to meet you! This guy talks about cutting it off since we met, although I told him how I am okay to come here! I mean, my human life isn’t awful or anything but I have an easier time just coming here with him.”

Seonghwa’s features softened too much and Hongjoong was not sure why this somehow felt unsettling. He was trying to get himself together and rushed back to your side: “Why give up a life up there? I am perfectly fine on my own and humans, they have to stop thinking soulmate is the only option… there are plenty of people to pick.”

His best friend looked at him with a gentle smile before poking his forehead: “How about you slow down a little there, sir? You know that there is no known way to break that bond other than death. Not for us, we aren’t humans.” 

Hongjoong opened his mouth to say something but was silenced by Hwa’s strict demeanor. “Why don’t you go and get your soulmate something more comfortable to wear? Since one of the two of you is relaxed, it should be fine. Relax, that way the string will give you some space.” The taller gave his best friend a shove and sighed, only mumbling to himself and walking off.

Hongjoong brushed a strain of hair behind his ear, as he focused to listen to the conversation. Down here, his instincts and senses worked perfectly. Ah, he should have known Seonghwa just would be so open with you. His fingers suddenly felt a little shaky when he went through his room, starting to find something that would fit you.

“He’s really tense… I almost think he does not like me,” you whispered and Seonghwa leaned in, delicate fingers curling a strain of long dark hair around his finger. “It’s because we demons find our soulmates right at the start. You see… we only have this one life. If we fade, that’s it. Humans can be reborn, so I guess, he believes that in your next life, destiny will fix this for you. Hongjoong... tells himself he has long accepted to not have one but look at that.”

Your curiosity was of no help, Hongjoong picked something that should look cute and pretty on you. Maybe it was not the worst idea while he figured out how to fix this mistake.

“If you only have one life… what becomes of your soulmate if you vanish?”

Your question was too bold, humans had no taste for when to be tender with questions as Seonghwa’s features indicated pain. Hongjoong knew there was somebody his best friend knew once who lost a soulmate and there was a rule which made it hard to deal with it.

“As we are immortal unless something causes our death and there is no rebirth for us... losing your soulmate is said to drive a demon insane,” Hongjoong started as he stepped by your side again. “Thus, there is a magic some may consider a curse or blessing. If your soulmate dies, unlike a human who keeps theirs, the string vanishes and the demon forgets about them. Other demons are forbidden to ever speak about it, so the pain will not resurface. It’s rare tho.”

Why were you so sad about this? It was not just the emotions coming over the string but also your features.

“But this seems so cruel? Not to be able to remember the person you spent your entire existence with. I understand it… the pain of loss, of having to go on but I always rather remember than be forced to believe I always was meant to be alone.”

Seonghwa was silent as you said it and Hongjoong stood there, a little lost before sighing: “Anyway. Here, we can get you something proper another time… it should fit you. As you see, we all somewhat wear similar styles, just with changes in detail. It’s always the heat of Summer down here, you will see why it’s more comfortable.”

You turned around smiling: “Thanks, I’ll go and change… uhm.” Hongjoong pointed towards the rooms he just came from: “That’s where I live, take your time.” 

He nodded and only glanced as you rushed off.

“Joong, do you really want to cut the bond?” Hwa’s voice was gentle and if he did not know it better, his best friend seemed almost mourning about it.

“It’s better, I do not think that my soulmate is fit for this life … I do not want to push a human soul through the pain of collecting life energy, I am not sure that …"

He did not need to finish it, Seonghwa understood and the two of them just stood there in silence. 

You suddenly felt yourself shivering, it was hard to explain and certainly hadn’t anything to do with your new clothes which were surprisingly light and comfortable. It seemed the fabrics of demons were woven differently from what you knew from the earth. Hands rubbed over your arms when Hongjoong walked to your side, sighing.

“How are we supposed to do this together? Look at you,” he frowned and you looked as innocently as possible: “What’s with that feeling? You feel it too but you do not seem to mind it at all.”

For a moment, Hongjoong was silent before he took your hand and started to walk with you through the city. It was a strange place, the buildings elegant and carved beautifully. The demons barely reminded you as such, even those who had less human traits than Hongjoong and his best friend.

“You know, Hell plays an important part in the balance of the world. Heaven, Earth, Hell. We are one big circle that supports each other, as odd as that sounds for a human. A part of hell deals with the souls of humans who need to be led back to a righteous part while also harboring … what you likely imagine when hearing demon. To ensure that all stays the way it is, we need energy, think of it like humans need the sun.”

It seemed he was leading you towards the tallest building in the center, for once you managed to stay silent, indicating you were listening and Hongjoong nodded as he continued:

“When humans started to reproduce in great numbers, the energy on earth became too much. Thus, we started to seek ways to slow it down, and as we need energy to keep this alive, humans gave us the answer themselves. When they started to summon demons in exchange for leading them to their soulmates, it was a natural decision. No harm would come to humanity, but help to balance the numbers of souls ever so eager to be reborn at once. You see, a soul isn’t directly reborn. It waits for the soulmate until a matching moment is found and only then do they come back. Ah, let’s not bore you with the detail.”

You wanted to disagree, just needing a moment to put his words into a larger picture as you walked passed a small crowd but nobody seemed to mind a human walked among them. 

You entered a room that looked surprisingly like a library just with files, Hongjoong seemed to naturally find the one he was looking for. He placed it on the table so you could have a look, a woman in her late 30s, made the pact at the young age of eighteen and you slowly understood, thinking of your neighbor.

“Because demons are so sensitive to soulmates, we can forcefully make the string appear and with that, find their soulmate. As I mentioned before, when they agree, the contract is written here but there is one thing humans often do not consider. Their lifetime can change, a reckless decision, an addiction. Somebody meant to reach the age of a hundred might live fifty years with their soulmate but shorten it to forty because of an addiction. That is not our problem tho. When their estimated time is up, you feel this shiver and you will know which one it is as you were the one to have made it.”

Before you could say anything, Hongjoong took your hand and this time, his grip was firm as he snapped his fingers and the water appeared. 

“I do not want to be cruel but I guess, the only way for you to see why you are not made for this is to see both by yourself. Soulmates work together, if you stay with me, every day, every call, you have to come with me, no exceptions.”

Suddenly, you stood in the middle of a fancy house, wide open doors showed a beautiful garden with a play of water and the humming sound of a woman who was watering her flowers. This was somebody wealthy but money could not give you a soulmate, right? “Do you know why she’d have died so early on?”

Hongjoong looked at you, nodding: “It is part of the note but sometimes, it is better not to know too much.” With that, he let go of your hand but the string soon forced you to follow as he stepped outside and the woman turned around. The moment she saw Hongjoong’s beautiful features, she grew pale.

“No,” she gasped, the water jug dropped to the ground, spilling clear water everywhere. “It is much too early! You cannot be here yet, it must be a mistake.” The average human life was anticipated to be around eighty to ninety, now many even reach their hundred. You were not surprised how she must be surprised to face death now, like that. Beautiful but sharp.  

“Your death date has been concluded and thus, I am here to collect the price in exchange for our deal made. It will be quick, you won’t feel a thing,” it was odd for Hongjoong, who usually spoke with so much impatience or worry, to lack any emotion. You swallowed as you reminded yourself how this had been his life from the beginning of his existence and based on his words, he must have lived for quite some time already.

“No listen, my daughter, she’s just done with high school! I just need a few more years!” the woman begged but the demon seemingly remained unaffected. 

"We have fulfilled our part of the deal, now it is time for you to do so as well.”

Her gaze was a mixture of hatred and desperation as she grabbed him, starting to shake your soulmate: “Is this all you monsters have to say?! You make use of poor humans in misery, longing for their other part, and then just treat us like objects! You truly are a monster. Bless god, my daughter already found hers, I will not have to worry she will lose her soul to such a monster like you.”

This was the moment her eyes fell on you, staring like she barely could make sense that a monster would have a soulmate and it made you wonder if it meant those affected by a pact could see the red string connecting your wrist.

“How can you?!” she did not get a chance to finish her sentence, Hongjoong snapped with his fingers and she simply fell to the ground like she just lost consciousness. You swallowed as you watched a ball made of radiant white and golden light seemingly leave the body, the golden one going up, while Hongjoong took the white into his hand and made it disappear.

“It’s a quick death, it just stops. She has not committed any crimes, her soul will remain in the good realms until her soulmate has passed as well and they can start over”, Hongjoong concluded and looked at you.

It was the moment the door opened and a man walked in. You noticed how his red string looked different from yours, it was clean like it was made of one piece rather than the cut-off ends that indicated the connection to another. 

The moment he saw his wife’s body, the sound of his voice, your heart cracked and Hongjoong could sense how you thought of him as cruel, for forcing you through experiencing all of it. He did not pull you away, offered no comfort and did not let you go back to hell because he wanted you to see what it meant to make a pact with the devil, the villain of the story of desperate soulmates.

You hated how tears dwelled at the edge of your eyes but you were not sure why, death stopped touching you such a long time ago.

When you received news of your mother's passing, it was first hard, by the time your grandmother left as well, did you really get used to it or did you barely alter yourself focusing on the memory of the calm face that looked at you in the mirror, asking if being alone wouldn’t be easier, kinder.

Finally, the familiar snap appeared and Hongjoong led you back to hell. 

“Do you want a blanket? I can get you one if you are cold,” Hongjoong’s voice was soft, worried. When you came back, you just curled up as a ball on his bed. The thought of this repeating tomorrow was hard, could you get used to it? You’d have to! Not only because you talked so boldly about being fine like this, but it was not as if you had an option.

Did you want an option?

It wasn’t your question but a wave of emotions formed into words coming from him. Hongjoong had tried to be soft, caring even and it was strange. Finally, he seemed to have enough of your lack of answers, he sat down at the edge of the bed and gently but forcefully turned you around.

Tears remained in your eyes and his fingers were so gentle, it almost broke you. For a moment, you imagined what it would have been like to meet Hongjoong as a human. Somehow, you thought how he would have been somebody gentle and kind, maybe a painter, focused to find beauty in the detail or a florist, creating art that made hearts bloom.

Why was he born a demon, forced to do this work alone?

Alone. No, he wasn’t alone anymore. You should get yourself together! Maybe there was a reason for it, maybe not but it was on you to make the most out of this bond.

“Stay with me,” you whispered and his arms curled around you, pulling you close. “Not like I can go anywhere,” he teased and you chuckled. “True.” 

You allowed your face to burry against his neck, only noticing now how he had this faint scent of wildflowers, maybe a herb your grandmother used for tea, it was hard to tell why but it was familiar, like you once were used to have it around you.

“Tell me about you,” you whispered after a while, no longer crying as his hand kept gently rubbing over your back, his chin resting against your hair so you could hide against his chest from the world. “What do you want to know?” he asked, thoughtful as his movements held for a moment. 

“Mh, anything? We can skip food, since you say you do not eat but what do you like to do? What are your hobbies? Placed to go, things to do? Let’s pretend there are no stupid rules or limitations.”

He chuckled again: “You always ask the big questions or too many at once but let’s see… I like to paint or I used to. For a while, I had the feeling like there was something important I forgot and it would help me remember but all I got together were places I saw but whose meaning seemed odd. Sometimes, on days when the hours I have up there are not spent on work, I like to walk the human world at night. The fake lights making your cities look so breathtaking from afar, fireworks, the scents of food. People just going by with their lives with so little worry about their futures. I also like the beach, we do not have oceans here, not ones made of water.”

It was fascinating to imagine Hongjoong, just walking along those places, eyes bright and shining like the ones of a child.  “We should go and do that then, you know? I can show you a few, we eat food, explore the beach and look at the fireworks. It is Summer now, a good time.” Hongjoong fell silent for some time, you could feel the heavy sorrow like he just was reminded of something.

Maybe he just made a decision.

“I would like that.”

The next two days felt like a familiar fever dream. Waking up holding you in his arms, the way you smiled at him so easily like he was not the one who stole your life, your careless curiosity, the way you enjoyed exploring the city, endless stories to share which made him wonder why you spent your birthday alone.

For a moment, Hongjoong was weak. Suddenly, he enjoyed it, the idea of having you by his side, how it could be like if you remained with him, the life shared together but the day he woke up and started to note the little changes to your features, the way how your ears were a little more pointed.

He realized time was ticking. Soon, he would have to make a decision or there wouldn’t be a way around it. Little did he know how he would find his answer when the call was sudden, a harsh painful cry for a demon to appear. 

You dropped a plate of colors as you felt it, wincing and Hongjoong was quick to be by your side, cupping your cheek: “Don’t worry, it is okay. It is rare for summons to be so sharp, they usually are a little more … desperate.”

It was hard to tell if fate was just cruel tho, to force this one on the two of you after a few peaceful days without interruption. “Are you ready to go?” he asked and you looked at him, hesitant but nodding, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze: “Let’s go.”

The apartment you stepped in was a mess. Books and papers laid around, clothes, a black cat plushie and the smell of freshly baked goods. Nothing he hadn’t seen before. 

It was your reaction that made him pause, the sharp gasp when you inhaled, the shiver that run through your body but before Hongjoong even had time to ask, tears rushed down your cheeks, and the one who called stepped out of the bathroom. 

It was a handsome man around your age, long black waves falling into his face, a jacket clinging to the shoulders. His eyes were wet, the vibe a mixture of desperation and pain. Finally, Hongjoong’s eyes stuck on a photograph. A graduation scene, him and you, posing together with your degrees.

“You are the demon that can find my soulmate?” he asked voice husky, indicating he must have cried for some time.

“Wooyoung?” as you called out his name, the man looked at you. It was hard to tell if it was a curse or a blessing at this point, because you came with the demon and the progress of change started, he did not recognize you anymore.

“You have a soulmate?” he swallowed, his gaze was on you for a moment. Zhe hard gasp leaving your lips were hard to endure. When you moved, Hongjoong just froze. “No, Wooyoung listen! You do not need to do this! Your soulmate will come to you in time, do not give up your life time for this!”

Finally, the demon acted and pulled you back. There was a simple rule, if a demon answered a call, no going back. If the humans wished for the pact, it would happen. The way you tried to free your wrist was hard to take but Hongjoong was firm.

The human seemed confused as he watched the scene, not understanding why the demons meant to help him would suddenly tell him not to.

“I want to do it. I just lost another person … I can’t go on and wait to be alone. I rather die young being loved than be alone most of my life. Do it.”

He was talking about you, both of you knew it and somehow, it finally gave you the rest. You sunk to your knees and cried, the air full of tension. Hongjoong tried his best to deal with the emotions through your bond and it was hard, he felt dizzy and overrun by your grief and sorrow but eventually, he managed. The red string appeared but it was made of a single piece, with no ends for a string.

Wooyoung looked at it before Hongjoong found his voice: “I must reject it. There is nothing I can do for you.”

Confusion radiated from both of the humans and Wooyoung made a step towards the demons.  “What do you mean by that?!” Hongjoong paused. There was one, rare occasion, where even the willingness of a human was pointless: if the soulmate already passed away. It happened often, it was fo those who waited all thei life, thinking how they never found this one person. 

“Your soulmate already passed over for the next life. In this one, go and find a love that your heart longs for, not so much your soul. It does not have to be any less fulfilling just because it is not made of a string.”

This time, Hongjoong spared you the reaction of your best friend, he dragged you through the water before any of you could witness it.

As you dropped on the floor of his home, you cried, you would not stop at all but Hongjoong did not have the cruelty to go down and try to soothe you. Somehow, he knew you would reject it.

“He won’t remember this, the moment we leave, he just will have this realization that he knows his soulmate will not find him but as I already told you… there will be a next life.”

Of course, it offered you no comfort. The tears would not stop. Finally, Hongjoong swallowed and he went on his knees, he was terrified for you to push him away because hewas about to steal the life of likely the one human you did care for, the one that baked you the cake and he did not even hesitate.

To his surprise, you allowed him to pull you closer, burying your face against his shoulder.

And as he held you, experienced every one of your emotions, he knew. You were not meant for this life and now, the answer was simple.

When he first waited to find you, he always said he’d do anything for his soulmate, once they would be together, make them happy. In a time before he told himself he was better off alone.

He would protect your soul now too, which would wither like a flower if you stayed.

There was no way to cut the string of souls.

Except one.

“You look different…” you looked at him. Seeing Hongjoong in streetwear, he was almost looking human, just a little prettier than any you encountered. “Blue hair would suit you well, you know? Goes with your white eyes.”

Hongjoong blushed, this was the first time he was doing it so obviously but it made you giggle. “What about it? I do not get why you guys like those jeans so much… the tank top is okay but why do you wear it when you need a jacket on top? Wouldn’t it be easier simply to wear a long sleeve to begin with?”

You still were surprised when he took you to a mall earlier, asking you to pick an outfit for him and then, one for yourself. It took your hours but he insisted on taking your time. Of course, you guessed he wanted to distract you from what happened yesterday, something you tried your hardest to push aside, forget but Wooyoung’s face still haunted you in your dreams. 

Maybe this was a good idea, getting out for a little, spending time with your soulmate. You could not just let Hongjoong down, could not tell him this was too much for you, not after all you forced him through, promises you made so carelessly.

“It’s because if it gets hot, you just take off the jacket and won’t sweat but if a wind is coming up, feel warm and snuggly. You also can give it to your partner, you know? That way, they can show it off, it’s like a more comfortable way of soulmate string.”

Hongjoong just looked confused but you liked it, your arms curled around him as he snapped his fingers and opened a portal. It must be late afternoon, the smell of the ocean was quite strong, and there were many voices, giggles of couples, and laughs of families alike.

A festival? Ah, that was right, there was one around a week after your birthday. Had only such a little time past by since you met Hongjoong? Just one week? 

“I was thinking, you could get us some food, we do… whatever humans do here and then, enjoy the fireworks.” Hongjoong seemed almost shy, forcing his gaze away as he asked you to go for that. It was almost like a date and the thought excited you! “Leave it to me, we can do all of the things. Ah, is it okay to be like this?”

You gently tugged on his arm and his gaze met you, it was soft and loving as he nodded: “I do not mind it. Humans can see us since we came here on our own accord but they should not spend any special notice of us, since my magic shelters us just enough.” 

You thought again of just how warm he was, the way his skin was soft and he smelt so nice, like a memory. “Noted, I promise it will be fun and then we can go back in no time.” Hongjoong shook his head: “Don’t worry… about that. Just let’s have fun okay? Like there is no tomorrow.” 

Ah, he was always so dramatic but then, this surely was his first time here, so you wanted to make the most out of it. 

You did not waste time, you dragged him over to all kinds of stalls, all the times you watched others do this with their lovers. There were silly games where you had to catch rubber ducks, the owner was sure Hongjoong was cheating just because he was too good at it.

Food was a whole different thing, demons were not required to eat, but they could if they wanted to although, Hongjoong noted how their flavor wasn’t as developed as the one of a human. Still, you ended up buying some chocolate strawberries and feeding them to him slowly. The way his face flushed when he dropped the first, nervous when he was chewing the second, and deciding how he liked it. Everything was new to him and his curiosity was quite obvious shared over your bond.

It was good because it helped you to relax and forget about the worries for a little. The sun was sinking deeper when there was a cliche moment, of somebody playing music and couples watching, some dancing and enjoying the play of the violin with an acoustic guitar. 

“I always wanted to learn how to play one of those but then I just skipped it, didn’t have the patience,” you admitted, pointing at the violin. Hongjoon hesitated, lurking over to a human couple before he placed himself right behind you, arms curled around your waist as he rested his chin on your hair.

This time, it was you who blushed but you relaxed into the hug, allowed to enjoy his presence, the way how your heart was beating louder now. “Learn it, you never are too old to learn, you know? Even if it takes a long time, do what your heart calls for, remember that the only limits are the ones given by yourself and social expectations. You are not too old to learn, and you can be happy without your soulmate, love will be there if you want it.”

His words touched you and you looked up, trying to get a glimpse of his face but he did not move. “Well, I have a soulmate so I do not have to worry about that.”

You chuckled and for a moment, you were sure to catch his smile before he let go of you, squeezing your hand as he nodded towards the beach. “It will get dark soon. We should head to the beach, for the fireworks. I’d like a spot alone for us.”

Was it already this late? “Ah sure, let’s go!”

Hongjoong helped you to get over some rocks which were intended to keep people away but it did not seem to bother the demon. He held you gently as he led you down a path and found just the perfect spot in the sand. As you sat down, he noticed your shiver and obviously, remembered something. Hongjoong stripped out of his jacket and placed it over your shoulder.

It was the moment when your gazes met and if you did not know better, it seemed his heart was breaking. Thre was a brief moment of sadness but it was washed away by happiness so quickly.

“You know, I lived a long life, and I think, considering all, it was a happy one. I look at it and I think, I received everything a demon could hope for.”

His hands cupped your face once more and you blinked: “What’s with all of this past tense?” You wanted to sound casual but somehow there was a hint of worry, like you should be alarmed but your thoughts were interrupted once more as you kissed.

You gasped because the kiss was far too familiar to be a first one like the body remembered something the mind did not. Slowly, your eyes shut and you gave yourself into it, it was sweet and tender, longing for one another. Your arm curled around his neck and for some time, you simply remained just like that, only interrupted by the cracking explosion of fireworks over the sea, the sun now gone for good. 

Hongjoong gently broke the kiss, his fingertips brushing your hair away as he smiled, this was the happiest smile you had seen from him.

“Let’s enjoy the firework”, he whispered and pulled you closer, his arm curled around your shoulder. You snuggled against him and only slowly, forced your gaze to look at the colorful lights painting a picture over the ocean. You had seen many fireworks before but this one felt more breathtaking.

“Y/N…” Hongjoong mumbled.

“Hm?” 

“You should always celebrate your birthday, you know? Make it big, go and wish for whatever you want. Eat cake at the busiest places.”

“Mh, we can do that together,” you nodded.

“I’d have liked to celebrate more birthdays with you cause I hate the thought of you doing it alone,” he whispered.

Finally, the fear set in with you as you turned around and noticed how soft white light was radiating from Hongjoong’s body, something you saw before, a soul passing.

“Why would you say that?” you whispered. Oh no, no no.

Hongjoong smiled: “Live a happy and silly long life, okay? You got still good sixty years ahead of you, do all those things you want to.”

He was disappearing. Seonghwa said the only way for a demon to die was when something harmed them or they spent too much time in the human world. But you weren’t here for longer than maybe four hours… but it was based on a week, not a day. The shopping trip. Oh no.

“Don’t leave me,” you whispered but he tightened his embrace again. 

“You aren’t alone, silly. People are here for you, maybe not the way you think of them but here, for birthday cakes and text messages. To love you. Just trust it.”

Hongjoong looked at you and smiled, his hand placed on top of your head, ruffling your hair.

“But I want to be with you! Hongjoong!” you called out but the sad smile already told you that it was both, too late and him having made up his mind.

“I am sorry, Y/N. I need you to live a long and happy human life, okay? I won’t ever forget you.”

He leaned in, his lips closed as he slowly seemed to vanish. “Close your eyes,” he pleaded. As you looked at him, you regreted how little time you spent with him, how you did not just sit down, admiring his beauty for hours and... and you tried your best to close your eyes when the tears would not stop following.

Please, not again, not again. Please, do not take him away from me.

You begged to somebody, anybody but just as all the times before, they would not answer you.

As you kissed you, the sob ran through. 

“Thank you, Y/N, for finding me,” he breathed. He did not need to say it, you felt it. Once and for all, as clear as the sky above your head.

Hongjoong loved you. It was such a strong feeling, overwhelming but comforting, you wanted to whisper it back but it was stuck. Yet, somehow you felt he was smiling like he was telling you he knew you felt the same. As he leaned back, you felt his breath tickling your face, his hand on top of your head.

“Count to ten,” he whispered. You forced your eyes to remain shut, counting. Yet his picture in your mind clear as the day.

The confusion when you first met, the little annoyance, the blush, the look in the morning and his smile earlier.

10…9 … 8…. 7 …. 6

“Next time,” he whispered.

5… 4… 3…

“I’ll find you,” you promised.

…2

"Please wait for me."

….1.

The last firework exploded over your head and you opened your eyes. You blinked, confused and looked up. “Uh, what the fuck? Why am I crying over some fireworks?” Fingers stopped as you tugged on a jacket that was far too big for you but you liked the scent, wildflowers, something familiar.

As you carefully made your way up to the road again, you still did not manage to stop crying, just what was it? Some threw glances at you as you must seem like you just had the worst week of your life. Why was your heart so full of sorrow?

“Y/N? Hey, there you are, I was looking for you the entire week and then your location was very vague! Are you okay?”

Wooyoung’s face showed up and you blinked, his slender hands reached for your face and he scanned over you to see if you were injured, maybe hurt somehow. “How did you find me?” you asked, just to say anything but your friend seemed confused about the question. 

“You sent a text?” he pulled out his phone. “I admitted it didn’t sound like you but then, you did not show up at work for a week. I guessed something must have happened.”

A week huh? You looked at the text, coming from your number and this was the first time you noticed that little heart next to your name, making your cheeks heat up. 

text: firework, today, pick me up after. thanks.

Why was that? Then suddenly, it hit you like a realization and you looked up to Wooyoung. Ah, this was why it was hurting so much.

“I figured out that my soulmate is already… gone. I guess, as much as I always said it’d be fine without one… learning there really isn’t one was a bit much., especially if you never really met... or well, I am not sure how to describe the feeling”

Wooyoung seemed to be surprised before understanding: ”It’s probably insane but…same?” For a moment, the two of you just stood there, people passing by who went on their way home after the firework was done and the festival shut for the day. 

“Do you want me to drive you home?” his voice was soft, and there was some colors on his cheek. For a moment you looked at him and realized, Wooyoung had been part of your life for so long, always putting effort in but you had been so busy with your loneliness that you overlooked it.

Now you saw him clearly.

“I’d like that.”

Seonghwa relaxed against the small food stall, the owner ever so busy preparing more snacks. His soulmate joined him, a sweet smile on her lips as she followed his gaze. 

You and Wooyoung were chasing one another along the sandbank before he would catch you and pull you into his arm, soft kisses given to one another. The two humans seemed relaxed and happy, with each of them having a red string attached to their wrist, made of one piece, indicating their soulmate already moved on from this life, waiting in the next.

“I admit, I did not believe it was possible,” Seonghwa sighed but he was smiling. “Demons aren’t reborn but then, maybe they are? I am not sure if these two demons just have been so excellently stubborn that they managed to define our nature.”

His long arm curled around his soulmate, placing a kiss on top of her hair. 

He remembered the day like it was yesterday, the way how your past life looked at him so confidently, you never lacked confidence once you made your mind. When you knew you could not live for eternity like that, collect souls because you knew, Hongjoong would not be able to withstand it forever. He just was telling himself it was what he would do. How he dreamt of all those human things, caught in a life of pain. So when you left a century ago to set it into motion, so he could able to be free with you one day, you did so thinking he’d follow you no matter what.

Seonghwa's gaze lingered on your wrist. A demon’s string disappeared when they died, it made sense why yours was gone until you met Hongjoong. You weren't a demon anymore but human, his fading when you died the first time but returned once reunited. Fate never changed its mind once picking soulmates for one another.

Seonghwea sighed, looking up: “I bet, my best friend is somewhere vibing right out there, grinning like an idiot because he really managed to be reborn as a human, forever together with his beloved.”

He laughed: “Good! I do not expect anything but many happy lives from now on, Joongie.”

A life or so later …

“Y/N, you need to bring a date,” Wooyoung wined on the other line of the phone. It was hard to ignore your best friend even while being in the middle of a painting class. “It is my wedding, just bring anyone, really! I get it, you are super old-fashioned waiting around for Mister Soulmate, whom I feel sorry for based on your expectations: handsome, warm, smelling like flowers. Not easy to fulfil all of that”

You rolled your eyes as you dropped the brush and looked at your piece of art. “Well, being a professional violinist and having a needy best friend already keeps me busy, so I am good. If you care, I will bring somebody for the wedding. Now go, you do not want to miss your final suit fitting.” Wooyoung muttered but ended the call.

“Mh, this is familiar,” Jongho suddenly appeared next to you, making you jump. “How are you so quiet?” You asked but your fellow art lesson classmate grinned at you: “Secret, but I mean it. I think, there was a similar painting. Ah, wait a moment.”

He returned with a flyer from the art class: “Here, it’s one of the examples. It was painted by a former instructor a few years ago, Oasis in the desert. I mean, it isn’t exactly the same but it’s the same place? You said you just painted it out of your imagination?”

You could not deny how striking similar they were, just that you were by far not as talented as this person, barely an amateur painter as a small escape from your busy life as a violinist. ”Not at all… maybe it was a photo I once saw.”

Jongho frowned a little: “If you say so… You could just ask him tho? He’s a famous painter these days but I heard, he was giving a lecture today, on the other side of the building.”

You made a face, wanting to say if that would not be a bit strange but decided to keep the thought for yourself. “Anyway, I have to go. Need to get a wedding gift, I see you for the next class.” You waved, taking your bag and making your way to the exit.

It was the noises of falling shelves making you jump. You looked around until you noticed an open door of one of the art rooms. As you took out your phone, just in case it was an emergency, you paused.

“Hell?”

You blinked, looking at a red string around your wrist. For a moment you paused, in awe that it showed. You heard about it but you were about to give up. The noise again, a gentle hiss and you finally forced yourself to move.

A head of blue hair caught your attention first as you entered the scene of a few dozen empty canvases having fallen over and likely in an attempt to pick them up, led to more fall down, just that the man now was busy tugging on a string on his wrist.

There it was so clear, the red string, it remained visible just for your gazes to meet before all that was left were the strings, indicating that they had another end it belonged to.

“Are you okay?” you asked, unable to hide that little grin as your soulmate’s cheeks flushed and he managed to get himself up.

“Uhm, yes! I was trying to prepare an art lesson! Well, it seemed the art disagreed with me there,” he blinked and you could not deny how pretty he was. The blue hair seemed a little strong against his pale skin and features that almost felt a little unnatural for a person, too many piercings decorating his ear, an oversized jacket clinging to his shoulder like it was meant for somebody else.

“Need some help?” you asked and closed the door. He looked at you, almost lost when you stepped to him.

“That would be nice,” he whispered and blinked, pressing a hand against his eyes. “Uh… I swear I usually do not cry when I am meeting people.” Yet there he was, crying and somehow, you almost felt as if you could feel it.

“No worries, I get that,” you replied and closed the distance, suddenly hugging him.

He smelt like somebody familiar and before you know it, his arms curled around you. “Took you long enough, I was waiting forever,” you whispered, not sure why you said it.

It felt right and somehow, he knew exactly what you meant.���

Hongjoong sighed: “Sorry for being late.”

closing note: if you read up till here, thanks a lot. it was meant to end with hwa's pov but you know.

[miss-sweetea-pie]

Zutara lens vs k.ataang lens.

I been thinking about how some of the messages in avatar Change if you watch them through a k.ataang lens vs a zutara lens.

The big one is Jet.

In the zutara lens, jetara can be seen as foreshadowing for zutara. Jet and zuko have alot in common. Rugged teenage boys with traumatic back stories. They both betray katara and test her character, katara’s biggest strength and weakness is her companion. Katara is extremely trusting and it’s really satisfying to see her grow but she never loses her ability to love. The one difference we see is Zuko working to earn her forgiveness. jet could have had this arc too but his untimely death cut it short. I don’t think jet was all that bad of person he was consumed by grief and bitterness, and I think he did feel bad for hurting katara, when his life flashes before his eyes she was a big piece of it. He even told her that he changed. He just didn’t have the time to show her.

Taking it a little deeper jet dying could also foreshadow Zuko almost dying from lightning. It’s a bittersweet lesson how we waste time holding grudges and sometimes people don’t have the luxury of apologizing to the people they love. Just a thought.

So from a k.ataang lens it leads more towards the lesson that katara need to stop letting these “bad boys” break her heart, “dumb girl your too trusting just give the sweet guy a chance”. And some will feel these types of lessons have aged poorly, but they were quite common in the early 2000s and targeted at kids especially for shows with male leads. But I do believe that this contradicts the overall message of avatar as a whole. In the episode the avatar and the fire lord, it explains how all people are capable of good and evil. And people need to be given a chance. People are complex. But I guess not if they are a “bad boys” who want your forever girl those guy are just bad. Also I think this is why a lot of people misunderstand the southern raiders episode and why Zuko gets characterized as the manipulator and katara is misguided and need the “nice guy” to save her.

[hazelira]

𝖊𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖓𝖆𝖑 𝖒𝖔𝖔𝖓𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙

@bywons - heeseung x y/n oneshot event

my love is mine all mine;

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

The night was calm and still, the kind that made your skin tingle with the promise of something unknown. The moon hung high above, a silver hole of light piercing through the darkness, casting an ethereal glow over the old, abandoned circus tent. The tent, now a relic of a bygone era, stood tall and silent, its colours faded but still holding a certain mystique. It was here, under this celestial spotlight, that Heeseung found you.

He was a vampire, a creature of the night, his existence a blend of elegance and danger. You were merely human, fragile and fleeting, your heartbeat a compelling rhythm that called to him irresistibly. Yet, there was something more between you two that transcended the boundaries of your mortal life and his eternal night.

Heeseung approached you, his footsteps silent on the dewy grass. You stood there, gazing up at the moon, lost in thoughts as elusive as night. When he reached you, he placed a cool hand on your shoulder, causing you to startle slightly before relaxing into his touch.

"You're always here," he murmured, his voice a soft caress in the darkness.

"Just thinking," you replied, leaning into him. His presence was a comfort, a strange contradiction to the fear he should instill. "The moon... it feels like it's watching over us."

Heeseung followed your gaze upwards, his eyes reflecting the moonlight. "It's seen everything. Before us, after us. It's always there."

You turned to him, your eyes searching his face. "Heeseung, do you think the moon could carry our love? Even when we're gone, it could shine down, holding all we were?"

Heeseung's expression softened, a rare tenderness crossing his features. "You want to send your heart to the moon?"

You nodded your voice barely a whisper. "So when I die, which I must do, it could stay here, with you, shining down, a reminder of what we had."

Heeseung's grip tightened slightly, an almost imperceptible tremor running through him. The thought of losing you was a knife to his heart, one that twisted cruelly. "I wish I could keep you forever," he said, his voice breaking the silence like a prayer. "But your love... it's yours. All yours. And when you're gone, I'll hold onto it. I'll let it shine through the night, through the moon."

You reached up, cupping his face in your hands. "My love is mine, Heeseung. It's all I have. Nothing in this world belongs to me but my love for you. And that's enough."

Heeseung bent down, pressing his forehead to yours. The closeness of him, the way his breath mingled with yours, was intoxicating. "Your love is everything," he whispered. "It's all I need. All I'll ever need."

A tear slipped down your cheek, and Heeseung caught it with his thumb, wiping it away with a tenderness that belied his nature. "My baby, here on earth, showed me what my heart was worth," you said, your voice shaking. "So, when it comes to be my turn, could you let the moon shine down here? For her?"

Heeseung kissed you then, a kiss filled with all the passion, fear, and love that words could never convey. It was a kiss that spoke of eternity, of promises made under the moon's watchful eye. When he pulled away, his eyes were dark with emotion.

"Always," he vowed. "For as long as the moon shines, I'll let your love be my light—mine, all mine."

You smiled a bittersweet expression that held your mortal heart's hope and sorrow. "Nothing in the world is mine for free, but my love... it's all yours, Heeseung. All mine, all yours."

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

@bywons I hope I'm not too late, I wasn't able to post when wifi is an on and off situation in my city. But hopefully you guys enjoy reading!

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

[mirrorbvllhoon]

ONLY IF YOU SAY YES (Dionysus!Jake x Ariadne!fem!reader)

This ain't no phase

I promise I'ma be the one who stays

˚｡⋆‧ XO (Only if you say yes)

WC:2.1k

CW: fluff, being abandoned, betrayal, and I think that's it

Y/n had woken up a few hours after the sun rose to paint the earth canvas with its light, the same light that covered her skin like a cloak, the warmness of the sun heating her body after the abysmal coldness of the night had weakened the strength that she had left, she looked to the horizon, to the reflection of the sky over the see, how there was no longer a ship on the deck, how she had arrived accompanied to the island of Naxos, but now she was alone, there was no ship, no food, and of course, no Theseus.

Her eyes closed, her body still lying on the blanket Theseus decided to leave her with, his last act of mercy if it could have even been called that; in the silence of the day she had no other thing to than remembering, longing for her old live who now seemed so glorious compared to the vanity of her situation now, how only a week ago she was still a princess in Crete, how she was free, oh how she longed now for that liberty, she remembered how she had decided to help Theseus…out of the kindness of her heart

She remembered the palace the gardens that surrounded it, the labyrinth under it, which hid a minotaur, only the gods knew for how long that beast was roaming around, and King Minos of Crete, y/n’s father, in an attempt to protect his kingdom selected seven young men and seven young woman, who then were taken to the minotaur’s labyrinth, each and every year the tributes arrived to satiate the beast’s hunger and thus for maintaining the treaty between the kingdom of crete and the kingdom of Athens.

That was until Theseus decided to put the massacre to an end, hoping to become the hero the prophecies told of him had prepared him to be, he sailed with the other young men promising justice and vengeance to his land and that each and every young men and women would visit their families again.

It was time for the tributes to be seen and presented before King Minos, however the young y/n was accompanying her father, she had no interest in the politics and the sacrifices, however she couldn’t contradict her father, so she just watched and stood quietly along him, that was until her eyes were focused on the young Theseus…

That same night she arrived at the dungeons where the tributes were made to sleep and rest, she stood next to Theseus' cell and whispered for only him to listen

“I think it would be a waste for someone like you to die in here” she pronounced

“Oh, but if it’s the princess y/n herself, to what do I owe the pleasure?” answered Theseus, his voice filled with bittersweet discomfort.

“I will help you to escape the labyrinth” she whispered, taking a ball of yarn and a sword, “Here, you will use this yarn to make a path and this sword will allow you to kill the beast… I must confess I do this just because I don’t wish for my hands to have the blood my father has spilled”

“Or… you could just admit you fancy me, I saw how you eyed me up there” he said, a crooked smile on his face.

Her empathy was nearly reduced to an object of desire, and although she had thought of Theseus as a young handsome men, she wished for freedom more than she did for a lover but there was something in him that tried to proof her wrong, and the deafening silence spoke for itself, maybe y/n was in love after all.

Once Theseus had put and end to the minotaurs life he ran away along y/n to the island of Naxos, after betraying her country, she had become a runaway, yet the crown over her head still reminded her that she was Theseus queen… until he decided she wasn’t.

There she was, alone in Naxos, Theseus had what he wanted, freedom for his people and glory attributed to his name, because y/n had helped her in secret, no one would know the secret behind his great escape from the labyrinth.

She had no food to eat, no cloak to cover her from the night’s coldness, she was alone on her own, no kingdom, no lover, how could she bear living?

Her eyes opened again, the sun had set already, and in an attempt to eat she started to walk through the island, searching for something that could satiate her hunger.

“Who are you?” a voice spoke from behind the bushes, that made her turn around searching for the recipient of said voice.

“Who are you?” she answered, fear in her voice yet the sound was still firm.

Silence then a low chuckle, “You are quite a brave mortal to even dare to speak to me”

The young god stepped outside from his hidings, and now in front of y/n stood Jake, a cursed god, yet the less cruel of them, his body was astonishing and so was his face, a god of wine and festivities that had a face that could be worshiped, yet to his eyes the women in front of him was an enigma, beauty adorned her face contrasting the torn edges of her dress and her arms a product of the bushes and thorns that surrounded the area, the smirk drawn on his face turned to confusion, the same confusion that adorned on her face and pricked under her skin.

“Are you hurt?” he asked his voice turned to a soft almost melodious tone, “I’m Jake, I’m sorry if I scared you, don’t cry please”

The tears in her eyes weren’t teared for him, they belonged to Theseus as her old self, yet now she was in front of Jake, a god so delicate and kind because of his mortal mother, of how he had shared the feelings and sadness that humans felt as well, all of that hidden through the pleasures and theatricalities of his facade.

“You didn’t scare me, I’m just searching for something to eat, I haven’t eaten in so long”

“And why are tears in your eyes? if they are from hunger I can bring you something to eat, and something to change too… whatever you need I can give you that”

“I betrayed my country to save the life of the prince of Athens, we escaped from Crete because otherwise we would’ve been killed, I thought he liked me but then this morning he just abandoned me… his ship is gone and so is every trace of him”

Jake was cursed by Hera into madness, but not only that, his own mother was a mortal, so unlike the many gods that existed and wandered through the earth, he was far more compassionate and understanding of the human emotions and the complications that the same ones created, so when he heard about what had happened to the beautiful young women in front of her, he couldn’t feel anything else than sadness and pure anger.

“Well for being a prince he is such a prick” Jake scoffed after the princess had told him each and every piece of the story.

She looked at him for a second and chuckled, “Well he is a prince, aren’t all of them the same?”

“Well, they’re mortal…”

“You forget the fact I am mortal as well” she scoffed, playfully acting as if his words had hurt her, placing her left hand over her chest.

He got close to her, taking her hand and putting it to the side of her body, a genuine smile drew from his lips, “Of course darling, but you are you”

y/n blushed at the remark, and freed her hand from his hold.

“I stand by my offer”, Jake continued, “whatever you want I will give you, you can follow me, I can show you a place where you can stay for however long you wish, I’ll take care of you”

He offered her hand and for a brief moment y/n remembered Theseus and the empty promises he had made her, but this time when she held his hand it was all different, this time there was no risk no what-ifs, this time she knew it as clear as the water that surrounded her, she wouldn’t be left alone.

The days passed by and as promised, Jake had provided for her anything he desired, dressing his affect and love for the princess as mere chivalry, however she was smarter than that, she knew for a fact that there was something else than a deep bonding because of their circumstances, then the day arrived where in the midst of gazing at the stars at night she held her courage and decided to ask him.

“What’s it that’s going between us?”

“What do you mean darling?”

“I mean this, I don’t understand, is it pure kindness or chivalry? and if it is, then why do you keep looking at me with those eyes and smile at me with that damned beautiful smile… I think I’m in love with you, but then…”

She was in the middle of her ranting when she felt a pair of lips crashing into hers, inviting yet full of tenderness, Jake’s arms found her back and hugging her close, he separated from the kiss, now her head rested on the crook of his neck and his hands played with the strings of her hair

“I’ve loved you since I saw you for the first time in those bushes, you took quite a long time to decipher that… I thought I made myself obvious when I told you I would give you whatever you wished for” he whispered to her, kissing her forehead.

“Well, you should’ve specified… what if I told you I wanted to be a goddess?” She replied, hoping that her comment would take him off, instead just a small chuckle left her mouth.

“Then I would’ve given you ambrosia and made you a goddess, my goddess if that’s what you wanted, if you wanted to I would give you a whole constellation…”

“And what if I told you I wanted us to get married?”

“Just give me a date and we’ll make that happen”

she looked at him doe-eyed, she couldn’t even understand how she had gone from being a princess, to a runaway, to alone to herself again, and now she had the opportunity to be herself with Jake by her side, and now there she was, with him hugging her tight protecting her body with his whispering sweet nothings and “I love you”s every few seconds.

“I love you too” she whispered, which made him smile, then both of them fell asleep.

When the wedding day finally arrived the isle of Naxos was dressed in the most beautiful flowers and trees, the island couldn’t have looked greener than that day, when Jake and y/n stood in front of each other, vowing to love each other forever for the whole eternity, and this time it was meant to be.

“I do” he had said before kissing her again, as he had done many times before and would continue to do many times.

He took the tiara over her head in his hands, taking her by surprise for a second, until he tossed it to the sky where it became no longer visible, confussion lingered over but he assured her that once the night arrived she would understand.

The night arrived sooner that day, thanks to the desire that unraveled between the two young souls, and when y/n took a look over the darkness of cloak that covered the sky canvas, she could see something familiar.

“Is that my tiara in the sky?” she asked quietly, Jake's hands surrounding her.

“Now everyone will know of how much I love you, and when you forget about it too, you can look to the night sky and you'll see”

Life was kind to both of them, allowing them to leave happily with each other, with the pass of time Jake had turned y/n into a goddess, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to exist without her, the proof of their love remained written on the stars above and on the hearts and mouths of the people who told their tale, spreading the rumors of how a princess promised to be a queen became a goddess, and how value comes from the right set of eyes, because in Jake’s eyes, she was the most beautiful and deserving of everything.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

[rainboneish]

i lied, i can’t wait until the official release, so have an absolutely massive text dump about what i think about chapter 267 and what i think could happen from here considering the newest developments:

okay i’ve decided… i like the fact that nobara is back, and i do think that it doesn’t contradict anything that has been previously established (her survival was very deliberately left as a possibility in a decently believable way)

the way she went down (and what Nitta said about her status) was open ended enough, no complaints there (especially comparing her “departure” (to quote gege) to Nanami’s and Mahito’s line wondering if he could drop her with one hit since he couldn’t do that with Nanami if he wasn’t already on the verge of death, it’s more than a bit of a Checkov’s gun, which is why so many people were already theorizing that she would return the way she did)

i also think that Megumi and Yuji’s conversation about her being as ambiguous as it was is not outside of the realm of realism, since it was only a couple days after she went down (so around 2 months earlier than the point when she woke up) so if her status at that moment was “comatose on life support and very unlikely to wake up”, so almost the same status Yuji last saw her in (plus considering the time Tsumiki spent in a coma makes it more likely for Megumi to sort of struggle to state the fact out loud)

however…

while I understand that gege might have deliberately avoided mentioning her status so that she would surprise us the way she did Sukuna, i think that it would feel less like a deus ex machina if they had mentioned her at least one more time, either by having Yuji (or anyone) visit her sickbed during the month’s preparation for the showdown, or by having Gojo allude to SOMETHING at any point where Yuji wasn’t present (be it at the airport, while talking to Ijichi before the fight, the same way that Yuta said that he would put Inumaki to work set up the recorder scene)

it didn’t have to be anything that would necessarily confirm her status or a direct mention of her, it could have been an unlabeled hospital bed at some point or something equally vague

i just personally would have liked having another connecting dot for her return around the time when seeds for similar surprising events were planted to make it fit a tad better

anyway, all that said and done, now to the return itself: Loved it, the whole chapter was very well executed and the build up in the chapter itself was very good

it does feel a little out of character for the tone of the series itself (gege has a habit of not letting the good guys win anything without it feeling bittersweet or pulling the rug right from under them (and us) at the last second (the fight against the death paintings with Yuji’s grief after, Mahito being absorbed, Kenjaku starting the culling games just as Yuki’s appearance gave people hope, the whole Tsumiki twist just when we thought they were getting out, the way Gojo died just when they thought he won etc)

because of that i am SO SCARED RIGHT NOW (which i’m sure he did on purpose)… everything looks like we are lined up for 3 to live (if gojo stays dead, which i hope he does, as much as i love him, the guy’s last words are that he is happy he went out the way he did and that he hopes his afterlife vision is real, LET HIM REST, he wouldn’t want to survive in exchange for Yuji or Megumi’s death (also having another character come back from the “dead”, especially one that is properly established to be dead, at this point feels like it would cheapen the concept of death in the series))

now, if this is how it ends, and this chapter was officially announced as the climax of the battle in advance so that’s likely, especially with the condition sukuna was in at the end, you won’t catch me complaining (i’m not THAT kind of shonen fan, griping over on twt about how it’s bad writing if we get a happy ending, these kids have been through ENOUGH, let them have time to grow older together, they never even managed to get to first name basis)

however: we do have another 4 chapters left…

and that leaves us with the option that if gege decides to be evil (like he often is) we could dramatically go from having unexpectedly reached the final “3 live 1 dies “ configuration, giving us a sense of security, to a fear of reaching the dreaded “only one survivor” option

Now, I previously made a different too long post about why either of the boys being the lone survivor would both be equally good story telling for a bittersweet ending to this story (see here)

now, i’m going to exclude the option of Nobara dying because her coming back just to be killed a chapter or two later would be stupid (plus the only way i can see that happening is if Uraume suddenly shows up at the dam after having killed Hakari and taken a train which… yeah… ), so that would automatically make her the lone survivor (again, already talked about the reasons why either of they boys dying works, though i will say that her return would strengthen Megumi’s will to live)

Nobara is more independent as a character than either of the boys, as far as her motivations go. She is the one character (out of the three of them) who viewed being a sorcerer as a job (think about her asking Momo is her life is just a job during their fight), more than having it directly tied into her purpose in life, which is something a lot of the adult survivors have in common. She has people outside of jujutsu society that she would like to see again (to be blunt, she has other friends and family, unlike the other two, plus she didn’t go through the additional trauma that made the other two cling to each other even more)

while she would definitely grieve them immensely, she has the resilience to grow around that grief, if both Megumi and Yuji should somehow die with Sukuna.

Again, i don’t think this is the most likely outcome, especially considering that gege said that he hopes the ending will make people happy which dead main characters don’t tend to do, but i do think that this is definitely an option i can’t dismiss out of hand until Sukuna is officially dead

edit: another point in favour of the happy ending is of course, the whole "jjk is about breaking the cycle" theory, which is reinforced by the "cycling curse" line on the second to last page of this chapter

[impala-dreamer]

Colder Weather

A Supernatural Story

~Dean's always been the one for you, but his life - hunting, fighting, almost dying constantly- it hasn't given you a chance to try. Until one day, things seem to change...~

Dean Winchester x Reader, Sam Winchester (briefly)

2858 Words

Warnings: Bittersweet Romance, Angst, Glossy Smut. - Set somewhere inside the SPN Finale - S15E20, Carry On. - Just so beautiful and painful and ... damnit. I did, in fact, cry a few times while writing... 

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

It’s the strangest thing. His skin is so incredibly soft in some places, so rough and tortured in others. He’s covered in scars, lines thick and faded to a dull white; holes where bullets have torn him through, but around those imperfections lie a universe of freckles covering the softest skin she’d ever felt.

His fingertips are forever calloused but so tender when they’re caressing her flesh, scooping up into her, even roughly holding her down. There’s fire in his soul but his kiss is pure love, lips so cracked but plush, smooth and tingling as they trail across her cheek, slide down to taste her.

Everything about him is a contradiction. He’s brave yet scared, strong yet fragile, quiet but so loud when he’s in her arms. He could talk forever with one cheek on the pillow they share, green eyes staring into hers as if blinking would break the spell.

He talks of forever, of leaving his life and settling down somewhere in the woods by a stream. He wants to spend his days fishing and learning to finally play the guitar for real. He wants to stand in the sunshine and breathe deeply, close his eyes for once and not be worried about something attacking from the shadows. He wants to put down his blade, lock up his gun, put it all behind him. He talks of nights spent by a little fireplace wrapped in her arms, fighting for space beneath a handmade blanket while the wind howls against the old windows. He wants to wake to her sleeping face, to brush the hair back from her cheek and kiss her delicate eyelids. To wake her with love, not an alarm. He wants to take his time, ride out the rest of his life by her side.

She teases him that they’d be bored after a while, that a fantasy like that would never last, but he swears that it would. Says with her, he could never be bored, he’d never want for anything ever again as long as she was there. Her cheeks burn from smiling and she bites her lip to hold it all in, but that only makes him want to kiss her, and they roll under the sheets once more.

Every time with him is the same.

There’s a text, maybe a call if he’s desperate to hear her voice.

‘I’m nearby. Wanna buy me a drink?’

‘Passing through on Tuesday, you around?’

She’s always around it seems, life hitting pause when her phone rings. She would put aside the entire world just to see Dean Winchester walk through her front door. And she does.

It’s a Thursday the last time she sees him darken her front steps. The sky is a deep oily gray with lighter clouds than makes sense. It’s been raining on and off for hours and the midday sun is lost behind the airy cover, lighting the edges of the world but only enough so that he didn’t have to turn the headlights on.

She heard the car anyway, didn’t need to see the familiar sweep of light across her front windows.

She’s at the door before he’s even got the driver’s side door shut and she hears the creak of metal, wonders why he’s never oiled the hinges. Everything else about the car is perfect; from the sheen on the tires to the way the raindrops slick off the hood and slid down the windows in a race to the ground. She can close her eyes and smell the old, worn leather in her dreams. Something comforting and warm even on a chilly day like this. She can feel the springs in the backseat give as Dean lays her down. Remembers the feel of the felted roof beneath her fingertips, the cool chrome pressing into her back. So many nights spent driving out into the middle of nowhere and finding bliss in the backseat together.

Dean looks up as he closes the door and a smile tugs at his pink lips. Realization catches in her stomach and Y/N wonders if he’s ever looked happier. His hair is a bit longer than last time they met, his face a little fuller, features more relaxed. He looks good, content. She dares to think: happy.

Even in his lighter moments, there’s always a darkness in Dean’s eyes. Something nagging at his thoughts, some horror lurking that she can’t get near. She would, if he’d let her. She would dig down deep into his soul and scrape away all the pain, all the scarred bits of him until he could breathe again. But he keeps her just far enough away that it’s always a mystery to her. She knows of his life, of the things that lurk in the night, but he never lets it touch her. Not once has she feared for her life, never have the monsters of the world knocked at her door. She’s his secret. His lifeline to normal. His good dream.

But now, he smiles so easily it almost scares her. Her cheeks twitch and she bites her lip, watching as he gallops up the walkway and takes the steps two at a time until she’s in his arms.

He smells like tacos from the road and is so warm she melts right into him, her face in his chest, her arms sliding around to hold him close.

“Dean.”

She looks up and he beams down at her, green eyes fresh and clear, cheeks rosy with a grin.

“You gonna invite me in or we gonna do this out here?”

She laughs at his assumption and slaps his chest as she backs away. She turns to go inside, but he grabs her arm, spins her back to him. His big hand catches her cheek and his thumb curls beneath her chin, lifting her face gently. His kiss is familiar yet striking, wet and hungry. She breaths him in too deeply and stumbles when he lets her go, dizzy and so in love.

“Won’t you please come in, Mr. Winchester?” she teases, bowing her head to invite him inside.

He chuckles softly and takes her hand, fingers slipping in between hers so easily it’s like they’ve been there forever. He kicks the door shut behind him with one muddy boot and the rain is left to carry on without them.

She shoves the jacket from his shoulders, nips at the tip of his ear. He kicks his boots off, paws at her chest.

They stumble through the living room, desperate for the empty expanse of her bed while they strip the road from his back. Naked and shivering, they fall together onto the blankets with searching hands and warm, hungry lips.

He’s starving for her, but he takes his time. Slowly savoring every inch of delicate flesh, he drinks her in, tastes everything she has to give. Relentless, he doesn’t stop until she’s breathless and begging for him.

His name reaches Heaven, pushed like a prayer from her kiss-swollen lips.

When it’s done, they lay tangled in the sheets, fingers laced, hearts synced.

She stares, counting the flecks of gold in his gorgeous eyes, pondering the changes she feels in him.

“You’re starin’ right through me,” he says, blushing like a fool.

Y/N shakes her head gently and lays her hand on his cheek. The stubble sparks against her palm and she rubs her thumb across his cracked bottom lip.

“Not through you,” she answers honestly, “never through.”

He kisses the pad of her finger and smiles. “Hope you like whatcha see.”

“I do.” She leans in, fingers sliding back to scrape lightly over his scalp. “I really do…”

Their kisses are soft and lingering, lazy. Leading nowhere. There’s no urgency, no push to overtake the other. It’s just peace and love and wanting to be close.

Dean catches her in his big arms, closing his hug around her head and kissing her hair. She laughs against him, captured and terribly, wholly happy.

She can hear his heart beating, feel it ticking beneath her cheek. It’s steady and calm, so different from the hundred times before.

“What’s up with you?” she asks, her words slipping out before she thinks them.

He sighs, relaxed. “What do you mean? I’m good. I’m… really good.”

“That’s… kinda what I mean.” Pushing back, she looks up at him and lets her head rest on his bicep. “You just… You seem different. So happy. There’s no… I don’t know, you’ve always got this dark cloud over you and today… it’s gone.”

Dean’s smile falls but it’s not for sadness. His lips pucker and smooth out, the dimples pop above his lip as he thinks about her words and how to answer. Thick lashes distract her for a moment as they flutter over a constellation of freckles and his deep whisper almost makes her jump.

“Something happened, Y/N. I’m still not sure if it was good, but I think it was. I really do. And… things are different now. There’s… hope. I have hope for the first time. I can see a future for me… for-” He takes a breath and brushes his fingertips across her cheek. “-for us, maybe. A real future. Not random hookups every few months. I mean… a real, honest life together.”

Shock washes over her and bubbles up into tiny laugh. She swallows it down and stares at him, her eyes flickering between his, in awe and surprised.

“Dean, I-”

Suddenly shy, he pulls his hand away, but she grabs it, puts it back against her cheek.

His voice cracks. “I didn’t mean to just assume-”

She kisses his palm. “Dean… I have never wanted anything more than to be with you. I hope you know that.”

The smile that spreads across his face is true and stunning and Y/N can’t help but trace it with her fingertips.

“You are so beautiful, Dean.” Her eyes float across his lips, his crooked nose, the deep seated crease between his eyes. “If you are happy, so am I. I mean that. And if… whatever happened has opened something up for you to be able to be with me… then- I mean- of course, I’m yours, Dean. Of course I am. I always have been.”

He crushes her like he’s afraid she’ll disappear, breathes her in as if she’s the only air in the room.

When the moment settles, he tells her everything. He talks of God and how they defeated the biggest evil in every universe. Of Jack saving them, bringing the world back and setting everything right. Wipes away tears when he tells her about Castiel and how he gave up his soul to save him. He smiles, amazed at how he and Sam finally broke away from fate and their horrid lives. He talks about feeling free for the first time in his life and how he’s thought of nothing else but being with her, of running away and starting their life together.

Y/N clings to him, listening with all of her being. She’s confused but grateful that he’s opening up, nervous to hear some parts, but happy that it all ended well.

Silence holds them close as they drift off to sleep, promises made and minds at ease.

He’s going to take her away for a while, somewhere with sand and sun and little rum drinks with neon umbrellas shoved in their tops. He wants to rub sunblock on her shoulders and run through the waves, feel the world around him, feel alive and safe.

He just has a few things to finish up back home.

One more hunt.

Then he’s out for good.

It should be easy, he says as he kisses her forehead and squeezes her hand. “More like one last road trip with my brother, really. Do what we do best, ya know?”

“Do you have to?” she asks, sad to see him go. “You could just text him. Doesn’t have to be such a dramatic farewell.”

He laughs and sucks his tongue against his front teeth. “Nah. Sammy deserves more than a text. Besides, I want to tell him all about you and that’ll take a while. And I gotta pack up my room, give the car a tune up and then-” He reaches down and wraps an arm around her back, tugging her close. “Then it’s you and me and clear blue waters, baby.”

He grins and she pushes up on her toes, sealing it all with a kiss.

She watches from the door until the brake lights are faded, until the glint from the chrome doesn’t catch her gaze anymore.

Days pass without a word.

There’s no answer when she calls, no reply to a text, nothing.

Worry stirs in her gut and Y/N spends the third night pacing her livingroom, running a trench into the hardwood with her barefeet. There’s an aching fear deep inside and she jumps whenever headlights strike her window.

It’s never him.

Panic wraps itself around her and she grips the phone, calling every number she has for him, listening to every voicemail intro like they’re ripping her soul open.

“Dean, please- whatever is going on, just call me. Please. I just need to know that you’re alright.”

It’s two in the morning when the line picks up. Her heart stops midbeat and pain webs across her chest. She takes a breath and presses the phone to her ear.

“Dean?”

She’s near to fainting waiting to hear his voice, but it’s not Dean who answers.

He clears his voice, takes a breath. “Uh- No, it’s… This is Sam.”

“Sam.” She says his name and her hands start to shake so badly it’s hard to hold the phone. “Um… Hi. I don’t know if you know who I am, I don’t know if Dean ever- well… My name’s Y/N. Dean was- We were-”

Sam exhales quickly and she can hear the tears on his breath. “I know who you are. He… Dean told me about you.”

“Oh. Good.”

This is wrong, she thinks. Something’s wrong.

She closes her eyes, blocking everything but the white noise in the background and Sam’s heavy breath. “Is he there?”

The pause is painful. She holds her breath, ready to scream, to run, to collapse in on herself.

“Sam?”

She can hear his hard swallow, a swipe of fabric across a wet cheek.

She can’t stand it.

“Is he dead?” she whispers. Her eyes are flooded already, jaw clenched so tightly against her trembling that her teeth ache. “Sam-”

“He’s… He’s gone.”

She can feel herself falling, takes the crash of her knees into the floor like it’s nothing. Her limbs go numb, her eyes blur.

She doesn’t want to ask but she has to know, has to understand.

“What happened?”

Sam’s voice is so low she has to strain to hear him.

“It was… it was so stupid. We, uh- It was just a milk run.” He hangs there for a long moment as memory washes over him. “I tried. I wanted to get him to the hospital but it was too late. I couldn’t- I couldn’t save him. I couldn’t save him.” He trailed off, losing against his tears. “I’m so sorry.”

She wasn’t sure how long she’d laid there on the floor but it felt like forever. Her back was aching, body craving water after shedding so many tears.

She crawled to the bedroom, struggled up onto the bed and hid her face in his pillow. He always took the left side when he was there, always nuzzled deep into the down, said he loved her pillows.

The sheets still smelled like him and she pushed her face into them, wondering how long it would be before his scent left her for good. She clawed at the pillow, crushed it to her face, wanting to suffocate, die with him on her last breath.

“Dean…”

It’s the strangest thing. The sand is soft and yielding but rough between her toes. It’s hot too, like the sun has penetrated every tiny grain with heat and its pushing into her with each step.

It feels good.

She walks along the beach, skirting the waves as they breach the shore and threaten to overtake her. She stares out into the waves, squints at the sun. She sees the ocean for the first time and thinks of him. Of how tanned his face would be under the tropical sun, of how silly he’d look slathering lotion on his nose when he started to burn. She dreams about watching the sunset over the water, their asses sinking into the damp sand, the breeze tickling their cheeks.

Her heart aches for him but the tears never come anymore. She hugs her arms over her chest and closes her eyes, imagining his warmth, his love. If she tries really hard, she can feel his lips on her cheek, his firm chest pressing into her back, holding her close.

In some small way, he’s always with her.

And she holds onto that until the day she can see him again.

2023 Forever Tags (Always Open! Send an Ask!)

@aditimukul @agirlwithdemonblood @amanda-teaches @akshi8278 @alwayskeepfightingsweetheart @b3autyfuldisast3r-blog @babysimpala @beardburnsupersoldiers @because-imma-lady-assface @bloodline1632 @charred-angelwings @chenshemesh1 @cosicas-cuquis @covered-byroses @djs8891 @deanwinchesterswitch @deansyahtzee @feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @iamsapphine @idreamofdeanie @ilsawasanacrobat @impalaspixie @jawritter @justcallmeasmodeus @kazsrm67 @kittenofdoomage @leigh70 @lovealways-j @lyarr24 @mariekoukie6661 @maggiegirl17 @mistressofallthingsgeeky @pandaxo79 @peachy-vans @rachiem4-blog @roseblue373 @sacriceria @samwellwinchesterthebrave @sexyvixen7 @spideysimpossiblegirl @spnexploration @stevekempscocktails @the-wounded-healer05 @thoughts-and-funnies @vulgar-library 

[daily-hanamura]

Hi! Do you have any souyo fics you would like to recommend?

HELLO @littlebalsam OH BOY DO I

as a caveat I consider myself to still be relatively new to souyo, so I haven't read too many fics? but these were some of my favourites and I hope you enjoy them too!

some of these fics may have mature themes (p4 is a mature game after all) so please check the rating/tags!

a doorway back into the life he wants by chash

Rated T; a stardew valley-esque AU that somewhat follows the beats of their original story, but sees the characters as grown-ups dealing with Life (TM), with Yosuke as the manager of Junes and Souji taking over his grandfather's farm in Inaba. There's a kind of mature calmness to the atmosphere here that is both gentle and delicate, and the result is something so very gorgeous.

(and honestly, anything written by Chash has been 11/10)

mr perfect by unsungillumination

Rated G; where Yu has to work on his social stats in order to confess to yosuke - the writing here is SO beautiful and there's something so wonderfully emotional about Yu's pining here (I adore any fic that makes use of game mechanics as a plot point lol)

sharing is caring by hydrocarbon (dontrollthedice)

Rated T; where Souji learns to share (and learns what jealousy feels like when he doesn't want to) - any fic with possessive/jealous Souji is a good fic and this one was so spectacularly well done that I still think about it for days

the boy who leapt through time by MrRee

Rated T; time-travel AU where Yosuke has the ability to jump through time and struggles to create a happy ending for everyone. Yosuke's characterization here is so perfect and beautiful, and the fic is very poignant and emotional during the entire ride, but I promise the payoff is absolutely worth it.

summer lessons by thenotwriter

Rated T; "kissing practice", where Yosuke is perhaps a little oblivious, but he learns something along the way. Yu is so very patient and Yosuke is a very very lucky boy. This fic is sweet, fluffy overload and I am not complaining one bit.

just like the classics by kiwoa (Rinoa)

Rated G; Yosuke finally coming to terms about his feelings. I really love fics where Yosuke struggles a little but also when there's a contradiction between what he says and what he does, and this fic was just so cute about it!

for now (or; how to teach your boyfriend to cut an onion in five easy steps) by tattedmariposa

Rated T; Yu teaches Yosuke how to cook. If you've spent any amount of time on this blog/with me you would know how much of a sucker I am for fics that feature food as a metaphor for love - the playful, knowing banter between them juxtaposes beautifully with the bittersweet tone, and it made me so very very soft.

under cover by chromsama

Rated G; another adorable fic where Yu and Yosuke share umbrellas. I don't recall if I've posted about the umbrella scene before but I've adored it since day 1 and this fic made it something so much more. Yosuke needs a little help arriving at certain realisations, but when he does it's absolutely brilliant. I also really love the way Yosuke plays off with Kanji here, and I love how some thing can be so simple yet so impactful!

gravity's how we got here by ashley-amelie (kitana)

Rated M; same theme of first kisses in the guise of "kissing practice", a theme that I am so weak for and could read a hundred million times. I adore the careful, tentative atmosphere in fics like these, and again, YOSUKE IS A VERY VERY LUCKY BOY.

your loving is all i think about by nedrika

Rated M; yu somehow manages to read minds, and reading yosuke's teaches him something interesting. it's kind of a naughty fic so I won't go into too much detail, but it's great and that's all i'm gonna say on the subject.

and finally, absolutely feel free to reblog with your own additions!!

[londondungeon2]

BACK TO CHEST (SOUL TO SOUL) END NOTES

RAAAAGH I WANTED TO WRITE THIS SINCE 2023 LETS FUCKING GO! ( ノ ^o^)ノ

I'm sick as a dog so I decided to post this ten days earlier lol

Jade in his Wuthering Heights era but also not,, I really wanted to include Jade screaming out "Oh God! it is unutterable! I cannot live without my life! I cannot live without my soul!"

Beyond words, I hope the audience could not predict the ending. I like unpredictable shit — I’m a fan of it in the movies I watch — so I wanted the reader to be concern: is Jade going to ask Malleus to keep him under a spell of sleep, is there’s going to be a resurrection, was Jade going to overblot, or some secret fourth option?

Not the original premise because the original premise was ALWAYS resurrection done by Malleus, but with the saprophytic mushrooms, the thoughts were to feed parts of the Reader’s corpse into mushrooms which Jade would find a way to convert fungal matter into new lungs, new epidermis, new eyes. Life with a stomach of death. Obviously not a powerful enough mage to do this, dream Reader convinced him to go to Malleus for help.

Reader’s school ‘uniform’ is based off what Thom Yorke (singer of Radiohead) wore in the music video 'Just' — just really liked the look of it and thought huh why not (-｡-;

Chanterelle Dreams, Amanita Nightmares is a real book; no, it doesn’t have the spell for necromancy in it

Floyd’s shirt is a real shirt; you can get it at Zumiez

“OMG, this reader writes poetry so it must be the closest we’re getting to a self-insert” NO! I HATE FUCKING POETRY, trust me I’ll tell u when i write a reader where I’m like:

:I’ll be tell you guys that it’s my bonafide, indulgent self-insert

Originally, in the memory of Malleus and Reader sitting by the gargoyle, the Reader was suppose to confide in Malleus of their fear of magic as they had been hurt by it before on many occasions, but this would contradict it being a sweet memory. I'd be a weak writer if I included something that foreshadowed their doom -- "I know you would never hurt me Malleus" or "I trust you greatly" — that moment absolutely could not be bittersweet.

Eventually, I would like to write a Reader who has a fear of the magic around them — just to test what that dynamic might be like in Twisted Wonderland.

I’ll give credit where credit is due: the act of syncing up breathes together, skinship or back-to-chest, was siphoned from M Night’s movie Signs (my absolute favorite from M Night)

I don’t think Jade would ever want to be separated from Floyd or vice versa which is why Jade brings the reader back to life. Sorry to the people who were thinking they would get the angst of staying trapped in a dream </3, it’s good angst but unrealistic for Jade as a character.

The Leech family dynamic has be in tears always,, they’re the most brothers to ever brother

This is a oneshot people can totally return to on Halloween bc knowing me I won't have something prepared that day (⋟﹏⋞) ....... unless Harley Poe themed Floyd oneshot hmmmmm

This oneshot has so many theme songs it’s actually insane but: Voltaire’s WAKE UP; Flyleaf’s AGAIN; whatsaheart’s THE STARS COLLIDE

[chosetherose]

You know what's interesting about So High School? It has all these callbacks to songs that contradict the idea of Travlor as something wants. It's like she's planting subliminal messages in the minds of fans, so they go back and listen to older tracks that will then make them uneasy about 🚜, by highlighting how opposed this relationship is to what she wanted in the past.

The music and the lyric about "a wrinkle in time" both evoke Hits Different - a song which talks about switching out Kens, and an "argumentative antithetical dream girl" who may not be Taylor herself, and, oh, has the immortal line "I slur your name til someone puts me in a car / KAR"

"I'm sinkin', our fingers entertwined

Cheeks pink in the twinkling lights"

This echoes Gold Rush.

"Gleaming, twinkling, eyes like sinking ships on waters

So inviting, I almost jump in"

and

"I don't like anticipating my face in a red flush"

Gold Rush is another song that is incredibly obviously about a female muse, with signs pointing towards Karlie in particular.

"You already know babe" evokes I Think He Knows. A song that talks about footprints in the sidewalk (iconic Kaylore) but even from a Hetlor perspective reminds them Travis is not Taylor's type. "He's got that boyish look that I like in a man" hmmmm

"I feel so high school every time I look at you" I can't explain what I'm picking up on here, but something in the music, as well as the lyrics, calls back to Fifteen. A song that talks about starting high school, and being too naive to know there were bigger achievements in life than dating the guy on the football team. Feeling "so high school" is not a positive association here. The message is doubled down on with "bittersweet sixteen". If this song is about how great their relationship is, why is she telling you she's not happy? What is the "bitter" that's mixed with the sweet here?

"But look at you" - this calls back to Gorgeous. "But look at your face". Gorgeous is another song obviously about Karlie, where a lyric was also changed from "I'm so curious". Because that was too loud. In fact, the whole song is about Taylor obsessing over this incredibly gorgeous love interest, while disinterested in what her supposed "boyfriend" is doing. The boyfriend being Calvin Harris, who was pretty similar to Travis, wasn't he? More red flags for the Hetlors

"Tell me about the first time you saw me" calls back to Mastermind's "And the first night that you saw me" which . . . I mean, do I even need to explain how incredibly Kaylore coded that entire song is? Probably not. But also, let's just enjoy the contrast, shall we? This song about a grown woman who calls the shots in her own love life and is proactive, vs the Taylor who is depicted in So High School, who is just reacting and giving in to everything this meathead guy does, or else waiting for him to notice her. We're actively told they're not on the same level intellectually ("you know how to ball, I know Aristotle") vs the love interest in Mastermind, who was on her level ("you knew the entire time"). How do Swifties mesh these two Taylors in their heads? How do they not see regression here? It baffles me.

These probably aren't even all the connections pinging back to songs that poke holes in the Travlor narrative. SHS is a bop, but seriously. I feel like the whole purpose of the song is to be subliminal messaging for why fans shouldn't ship Travlor, and to remind them of all these other songs that might push them down the 🐰 🕳️

Ooo interesting idea!

[semiotextiana]

ive kind of reconciled my present self with pre covid and mid covid clean girl salome and the black hole that were post-covid years spent off the grid…… havent felt motivated to take care of myself in so long. but im back on my shit via ways i wouldnt have imagined and chased and whipped by months of probably the worst existential anxiety and dread ive ever felt. and i did that myself, ive made some great new friends, ive made a very enriching professional experience and really i needed all that torture (growing pain) bc i was clinging to the old ways and i would not have started letting go for the life of me if it hadnt started feeling so hopeless and impossible. bittersweet also bc this was mostly triggered by my best friend moving away from berlin who i couldnt appreciate as much as i shouldve when times were weirder and things werent as clear to me as they are now. neither of my two best friends of those years are talking to me right now but i respect it and the bond i have with those two people honestly transcends any temporary differences or geographical distances or journeys that we need to take each on our own which is the case rn. i think for the first time ever ive arrived at a certain level of self respect and it feels dignified as hell. like im at peace with it being not perfect and at peace with ill feelings and with the contradictions and the randomness of life tbh

[pierofilm]

#007. serendipity ▶ koga yudai.

one word prompt.

warning: bittersweet angsty oneshot ig, mentions of depression and anything related to that so please read with discretion.

a/n: not sure how this turn out to be quite lengthy, it should've been a drabble but anyways 🤸

"SERENDIPITY."

they say, that wonderful or good things happen when you least expected them to. refraining from actively seeking them out leads you to a better solitude, less expectation and a fulfilled life rather than frantically chasing after them. but what is there to life if you will only wait for good things to happen?

isn't it better for you take the lead, take charge of your own life, lift your pair of feet to achieve each imaginary moment you desire?

or was it simply that you couldn't understand the word despite rereading the explanation since a few hours ago?

you couldn't understand. but what right do you even have when you couldn't even push yourself off the chair, to a life you desire? a simple contradiction, or maybe a hypocrite you call yourself.

you knew what was needed to be done, but there remains no energy left in you for you to execute each meaning in this particular word.

"tell me a new word, again?"

the golden rays drenching over the green board, blending with the white dust chalk engraved on them gave you a rather solemn atmosphere. with the shadows of the window frame casting on the walls and desks, you never understood why you found them so terribly saddening to look at.

"serendipity," you sighed, resting the hard edge of your open book on your desk, emitting a hard thud that resonated throughout the empty classroom.

empty, almost — if it wasn't for the hazy figure floating around you, shifting its position by leaning against the wall, placing himself on the window seat—quite a funny scene for you as he didn't need to go that far when the colours of his skin weren't as vibrant as the smile on his face.

"pretty word for the first time! se-ren-di-" his lips formed each corresponding shape that perfectly enunciate each syllable, but the foreign word hasn't been completely integrated into his mind as his tongue fumbles at the end. "truly a pretty word, but there's no point in making it so long and hard to pronounce."

his pretty features contorted into an animated expressions of a thumping soul.

giggling as you shook your head at him, "each word is no accident, at least in my opinion. therefore, do your best to learn it. who knows, god up there would compliment you for your well-earned english skills and probably give you a chance to be reincarnated in another country, perhaps in london?"

well, it didn't matter which country; as long as it was far, far away from this concrete, from this land your feet are bound on for eternity, with the terrible noise of the invisible shackles wrapped around your ankles. or perhaps, it was just your mind fabricating scenarios to appease yourself, like they said.

"eh, who says i want to be reborn in a foreign country?" his eyebrows raised in disbelief, "as if kanji aren't anywhere difficult."

another amusement adorned your face, "i didn't say kanji wasn't difficult."

he shrugged in return, swaying his translucent feet in a hypnotic motion in the empty air.

"a kindergarten teacher, you say?" he snorted, "bet your future little students would cry a river for every word of the day you write on the damn board."

"well, they gotta catch up."

"cruel, i wouldn't want to be your student when i'm reborn someday."

"gotta toughen up the lil kids while early, kei."

this lost soul in his translucent body where the luminous sun rays pierce through like an arrow grew even more vibrant, making each edge of his existence breathe life into them. every now and then, you almost always forget that he was nowhere as alive as his animated expressions.

the reddish rusty pin of muted green cactus with a cartoonish art embedded on his school's jacket, right on his chest—had you initially wondering what leads to it's eventual discoloration when his neatly ironed uniform, white pair of shoes, and a well kept slicked back hair were very much a stark contrast from it.

and now that you eventually come to know about it, you'd rather not say anything.

"yeah, yeah. anyways, what does it even mean?" he gestured his index finger to the written word of 'serendipity' below the list of words you've studied.

"happy accidents." you answered, looking through the big fat dictionary on the right side of your desk to make sure. "luck that takes the form of finding valuable or pleasant things that are not looked for; a lucky stroke, or you could compare it with a four-leaf clover that is difficult to find but when you found it, that's serendipity."

"quite the same as meeting you on the stair that day."

"that," you averted your eyes from the dictionary to the boy, "a happy accident for you?"

"almost." he corrected, a mischievous grin reaching his pale cheeks. you scoffed at him. "watch your steps though, doesn't seem like a nice way to go."

"what if i don't watch my steps next time?" you replied, adding a tone of playfulness. but who were you even fooling?

"you would be an idiot." his pearly white teeth came into view, laughing at your choice of words. "but please, save me the trouble. let's not be born on the same day in my next life." kei shook his head, not taking the idea very well.

"why not?" you asked, curious of the intention behind his words.

"just." his lower lip jutted in a pout, "atleast wait a few years before you follow me, or even better, atleast seventy years or so."

a heavy silence replaces the conversation, followed by the sudden increase of the breeze flowing into the classroom, gracing the curtains through a dance. if the boy had a beating heart at this very moment, then it would've brush against his cheeks.

you tucked your locks beside your ear, pressing the tip of your feet slightly hard on the floor as you lean back against your chair. letting your shoulders droop down, "seventy? that's too far-fetched."

"not as far-fetched as mine, you got a long life ahead of you, why not anticipate the serendipity that will come along with each day?" kei suddenly paused, chuckling at his minor mistake. "oh wait, we shouldn't anticipate it."

"i don't think i can live that long, i do not look forward to anything.." you let out those eight words as murmurs, a sound so low it's impossible to be heard by a normal human.

but to him, he could. your voice were as clear as the blue sky, devoid of the dense clouds and heavy storm.

"is memorising your daily vocabularies, not something to look forward to?"

"they're only meant to keep me alive." you replied nonchalantly.

tap, tap, tap.

the noise emitting from the tip of your pen resonated through the empty room, forming a calming atmosphere for you as it resembled a thumping heart; where the boy on the window seat had none of that, and while you, despite having it—

"you know," kei shifted his position his back rested on the wall slightly, lifting his left leg up in a leisure manner. "my mom used to cook me a meal whenever i'd go for dance practice, but they weren't that healthy enough to keep me fit for it, you see."

you lifted your heavy eyes at him, "so you threw it away?"

"i gave it to someone else." kei corrected, "but it's not like i don't want to eat it, i do want to eat it. just, not yet."

you nodded, humming along. imagining a scenario where you put yourself in his shoes, wondering how it was to roamed around about everywhere as a translucent being, left with remnants of the past, a beating heart, and a starving soul—yet unable to fed oneself for eternal.

"—now i couldn't eat them anymore, all because of a damn reckless driver." kei's pupils remain stuck, and yet still he blinks, even when he knows it's all too useless to even do so. but atleast, it still provide him the comfort that he was once alive, that he had left his footprints somewhere else even if it was bound to covered by almost anything. "it was a happy day, skipping school just to get to the place where the audition was held, that doesn't seem like a happy accident at all, isn't? or maybe it was a conjunction, the word you taught me for the first time!"

you tilted your head at him, a glimpse through your memories where your figure were laying on cold surface of the rooftop, and him sitting beside with you with his legs apart as if he had no care in the world yet with his head looking up above the sky as if he was hoping, wishing, or more specifically—longing for something. a totally weird situation that follows after a tiny 'accident' down the stairs which leads up to this rooftop.

"conjunction, it is the words we used such as "and", "but", and "if". or in other words, where two or more things occured at the same time." you randomly blurted out much to the boy's initial surprise and dumbfounded expression, "this, our situation, you and i, are a conjunction of utter ridiculousness and lack of scientific evidence, also a potential symptom that i might've gone insane and that i could be sent to the nearest mental asylum in this city."

kei's face contorted in utter awkwardness, mind malfunctioning as he tries to understand your barrage of words. "i don't have any heck the slightest idea you're talking about, miss." and with a random afterthought, he added. "i love to dance, though.. hm, the name is kei, by the way. what's yours?"

a ghost asking you for your name sounds too comical, you've always thought that they automatically knew your name through some random articles, newspapers, gossips from your peers, and the myth circulating around the kids in your neighborhood.

"are you.." you frowned, "trying to be friends?"

and he simply nodded, almost exaggeratedly, with the brightest spark imbued in his marble-like eyes.

from then on, with the days following after and so on, it doesn't feel that difficult to breathe, atleast for a tad bit—with this soul of a teenage boy following you around like a lost puppy for a few days, and when he disappears for a short period, you were engulfed with fear—but what were you even fearing about?

was it because you were concerned that he might've disappeared or that a worst case scenario had happened to him? which is quite stupid despite knowing very well what he is, or perhaps you were being selfish—desiring for that poor soul to remain by your side so you won't feel lonely as you used to before?

you didn't know which route to settle your mind on, but everytime he appears back, returning to your side—not too close, but not too far, paired with his lively expressions and bustling vibe, you found your lips drifting onto a vast array of conversations but surprisingly, it was almost about anything but you and him.

as if you and him knew that it's better to not to go past the threshold where there's a big possibility, huge even, that a desire for belonging and attachment might arise. yet for some reason, today feels a bit different.

just a bit.

kei lifted both his hands for you to see, bending the rest of his fingers for his index finger to emerged, forming a 'one'. and he slowly attached them together as he speaks, "happy plus accident."

"finally you got it." you squeeze out a chuckle, although deep inside, a crawling sentiment or rather a heavy lump were emerging to the surface of your relaxed eyebrows and lips.

and despite not asking each other what drove you to do that, and what lead him to the way he is right now, the sign was all too obvious. it was as if both of you knew the answer from the very beginning the day you first met each other.

you knew very well of how he ended up the way he is right now, and that was also on the rooftop where after shortly you taught him the word—you dozed off to sleep, but not before listening to him talking about how he used to live, and how he reached the end of his dreams.

"sing," his eyes squinted at the golden sun, a reaction that simply won't deliver the same effect to him right now but out of habit, he often did so. "and dance."

observing him and his little antics, a desire to ask him a question squeezes its way out of your mouth before you could think.

"don't you hate him?"

kei paused, knowing very well who you meant. "hate who?"

"that person who took your life."

a heavy beat of silence consumed the space again as kei's eyes fluttered rather slowly, "well, having my life wasted away by some crazy bastard that chose to drive despite having his more than enough shots that day." a sigh follows after, a long and deep one. "hate is a pretty weak word. resentment? yeah. at some point, i did."

"then why don't you go possess him or something? perhaps give him a taste of his own karma? i heard those stuffs exist."

"good idea," kei hummed in approval, pressing his chin on his knuckles. "but wouldn't that cost my precious ticket to reincarnation if i became a vengeful spirit, eh?" he shrugged in a playful manner, a mischievous grew on the corners of his lips.

"you got a point.."

"didn't know you had that spirit in you," kei feigns a surprise, eyes widened in shock. "now that i look at it, you could pass off as sadako, especially with that long hair. and instead of coming out of a glitching tv, a big fat book is what you will use to horrify everyone."

another chuckle escapes your lips, "spirit? the thing is, i don't have anyone to that i could fight with, or hate." you slowly lifted your eyes to the blackboard, scanning each stroke of the kanjis. "simply nothing."

"you still have yourself, though." kei shoots a playful wink at you, only to receive an expression of playful disgust spreading over your features, "there's more good things that come along just by being by yourself."

"that sounds depressing."

it did sound very depressing, he agrees and yet he didn't need to verbally tell you that. not when his eyes could count the faint red shade of long, deep, and engraved visible marks on your left hand, peeking slightly beneath the hem of your sleeves as you rested your chin on your palms.

he could only wonder how hollow those carvings could be, and how deep it could've reach inside your soul.

"karma, or serendipity.. we can't control that though." kei said, "atleast that's what i heard from the spirits roaming around, but from what i believe in, atleast we could control how our life goes about, even if.. even if we die someday by others' hands or—"

he caught sight of a yellow balloon drifting up and about the empty air out the window, guided by the breeze of nature to a destination where one might or might not encounter it anymore. a thought run through the back of his mind that a child might've carelessly let go of the tight grip they had on the thread,

careless.

the word is all too familiar for him.

yet another thought surfaces, another different scenario; that someone, probably not a child by form, but by heart; one that longs for something—must have willingly let go of the balloon for a reason no one might ever know if they were unwilling to say, or if anyone even try to ask, or if even they did—words were discarded as mere form of exaggeration.

"by our own." another pause as he looked down at his lap for a brief second before he gathers the silent strength to look into your eyes again. "just memorize each word, each day, till you can form your own very word, okay?"

your eyes widened in inches, taking his words in, nodding your head in silence, as you pursed your lips in to blurt out any potential choke that might surface from your throat or how your insides grew warm for what seems like a long time, or how your stiff and rigid fingers relaxed on its own.

like a frozen statue in time, probably equivalent to the deadly temperature of the ice age but only you as it's tenant, it was short of nothing but quite a journey—one that's terribly bleak, and devoid of colours, by the way. the flickering lamp post from the park gaves you a spooky vibes back when you were a child, yet now, you couldn't but describe the scene as the equivalent of it staying alive.

just a bit more everyday, till it could.

but a common phrase would often drifted off to your ear, that a lamp post's job is basically that, automatically, to stand with absolute strength all while providing light for people.

because that's just how the people you believe in—had always believed about.

multiple beats of crunch resonated throughout the air as you walked across the autumn leaves decorating the entire ground of the school. october sounds like an old man in its muted orange sweater, a cane gripped by his right crumpled hand, and a pumpkin supported by a knotted rope as he walk about the town, and probably visiting the old cemetery where he wondered that he, too, might be buried beneath the same soil someday.

you wonder too.

soon enough, you were greeted with a sight of kei in the hallway, up in the third floor at the school. him, leaning his back against the wall, with his left leg supporting him and his right leg stretched all the way to the floor. his hands in his pockets which made you think if he was trying to warm them.

you almost wanted let out a hiss upon parting your lips due to the chapped and dry skin, yet you held yourself, forcing a small smile to lighten up the mood. "hey."

with him catching the sight of your presence, he fixed his posture with the same smile cutting back to his face. "ayo."

for sure you didn't expect that the next word would lead to that, despite knowing it all to well.

"it's time."

it caught you off guard even though you've prepared for it, repeated it like a broken affirmation in your head, even. despite anticipating it all along those months. a lump formed in your throat, as if the clock had slowed down the speed of this world that contains billions of lives. you've anticipated for this day, and it eventually came. it eventually did.

you wanted to say something, but what is there left to say?

"wanna go for a last walk?"

the hallway to the exit suddenly feels short than it used to be, it felt terribly long a few hours ago, a day ago, and the days that occured before this very day.

"i used to memorise these ridiculously hard dance steps in one go,"

you raised your head to look at his face, an expression you know too well to be emitting a sense of longing, pain, and disappointment.

"—but all it did was make my dance look like a barrage of trash, my dance teacher says." laughing at himself, you wondered if he really used to be like this when he was alive, or was it only a way to keep the remnants of his usual self intact.

you don't know, and you weren't sure if you want to.

"that's cruel."

"that sounds weird coming from you," he chuckled, shaking his head as he spun around to face you, walking backwards. "ah, in my next life, i want to eat more food. if i'm lucky enough to have a mother, that is. and right, i should brush up my skills in looking left and right before crossing the road, heh."

"you will." a curious question suddenly struck your mind after that, "but hey,"

"yeah?"

"how will i find you if you no longer have the same name?"

caught off guard by your question, he froze, blinking quite fast before bursting into an awkward chuckle. "you wanna find me?"

you nodded, feeling quite awkward at your random approach but you brushed it off.

"well, certainly, my name wouldn't be kei in my next life. but who knows what might happen? i don't know who would i be, what kind of person i would be.. i don't even know if i would be born here again."

a question left with no answer, and maybe it was for the best. you let the question drifted into the empty air, letting it sink it nowhere.

"ah!"

you jolted slightly at the unexpected rise of his voice, seeing him lifting his index finger as if a light bulb flickered above his head. "we could decide on a symbol maybe? like a secret code—" leaning in closer, "we could cheat the old man up there."

baffled by his idea, you weren't entirely sure how this was going to work but you nodded anyways, asking him what exactly he meant by a symbol and he replied rather in a tiny voice, "i probably wouldn't remember you, but i heard that souls bear if not all but a little resemblance and memories from their past lives, something that is important enough to them that it sticks no matter what."

you shook your head at him, saying that a symbol decided a few minutes before he departs to a place wherever he needs to reincarnate—wouldn't take an effect. at least that was how you perceive it, sighing as you kicked an empty soda can strewn on the path, momentarily hissing at whoever didn't throw it properly into the trashbin.

"but this is important though, isn't?"

hearing those words from him, you couldn't help the way a sudden warmth engulfed your heart and your eyes shifting from the floor back to him again; those eyes that held firm determination in it, just like you've always seen him ever since. "alright, what's the secret code then?"

"that one," his eyes gestured towards something, down at your side and with confusion, you followed his line of vision—leading to your bag.

"my bag?"

"no you idiot, that sticker."

an old, worn out cropped out sticker of a crown decorated on the side of your dark indigo schoolbag.

"a crown?"

"you sure this would work?" giggling at the idea of an old sticker being the secret code, you couldn't help but find it stupid—adorably stupid, that is. "how does a secret code like this would help me to meet you? what, do you wear a fat ass crown on your round tiny head someday?"

"i don't know, i have no idea." kei shrugged, pouting terribly. he, too, were skeptical of the idea. "but what's the harm in trying?"

"okay," you nodded, satisfied with his answer. "we'll see how this secret code would come to use someday."

straightening the worn out sticker on your palms, a warm smile made its way to your lips and unknowingly to you, you failed to caught the pair of eyes switching to a solemn shade.

"we're here, you don't have to follow after me now."

two pair of eyes; chocolate brown looking into yours as he paused on his tracks, leading you to do the same.

it finally has came to an end, no words exchanged, only a short goodbye paired with a brief nod leaves your lips and his, and as he spun round his heels with his back now facing you; one that you've longed to atleast embrace—you clenched your fist beneath the hem of your sleeves.

"say," kei paused on his tracks, and you—a few metres away from him, lifted your eyes only to be met with his locks almost obscuring his ones as he kept his vision fixated on the floor before eventually lifting it to look into your eyes. "do you still not agree that the day we met was a happy accident?"

your heels spun directly to his direction, epiphany settling itself in the back of your mind as you processed his words. you were unsure whether you were simply imagining that there was a glint of hope imbued within his marble-like eyes, or how his translucent hands fiddled the hems of his black worn out jacket. though, there was one thing you were sure of. "of course, meeting you was a happy accident."

the corners of his lips pulls up in a sheepish grin that pulls the strings in your heart, the locks of his hair swayed gracefully that it had you wanting to touch it. why is it reacting to the breeze? was this nothing but a mere imagination of yours?

"kei."

"hm?"

you clenched your hands as you observed your reflected figure on the glossy tiles, your shadow soaked on the wall on your right side as a result of the illuminated spherical sun set peering from the window on your left side, where the infirmary room was located; it's doors left opened.

"the next time you're reborn again, can you—" you held yourself, refraining from being selfish.

right.

good things happen when you don't actively seek out for them, for they're often more defined as gifts when they do happened.

with your lips parting, replacing it with a smile you've been longing to give to him, genuinely. "the next time we meet again, for the first time, i'll make sure to put on a smile—a genuine one."

kei's lips parted slightly, eyes softening paired with a gentle smile that adorned his lips.

"wanna grab a meal together next time, then?"

taken aback you did at his words, yet you hold yourself back from pouring your scattered thoughts of what ifs, you nodded, as clear as you can for him to get the message that you are more than willing to. devoid of words, yet those subtle gesture was more than enough for him, he was more than satisfied, pressing his lips into the biggest smile before spunning around his heels, walking off to the long hall where on the other side leads to a new life.

a new chance.

with his back facing you, he waves his arms off in long strides. "remember, one word at a time!"

and where beyond that—your first and last serendipity disintegrates into the waterfall of illuminated golden sea, now one of them—will he return as the sunrise for the years to come.

you walked off, but not before taking one last look at the exit. despite saying those words to him, you weren't entirely sure if you even believe at the whole "reincarnation" thing, if hell or heaven truly existed.

your eyes fixated solemnly on the very spot he disappeared into, you found the courage to say these words you weren't so sure would be ever granted yet you could only look forward for that day.

"see you later, kei."

the walk back to the classroom was now hollow than ever, your legs felt like it could snap at any point if it wasn't for your palms supporting you and guiding you up the stairs and across the hall, where you will now return to your seat without the spot on the window seat occupied as it used to.

yet white strokes, vibrant as snow caught your attention from your peripheral vision, and there written a sentence on the blackboard—something you've been longing to hear from someone. a chuckle, followed by a disbelief, and then a choke surfaces from your throat before you burst into tears; one that is devoid of sound as a long time habit as a child, paired with beads of sorrow yet a profound warmth imbued in them trails down your cheeks.

who could've known that a dying and flickering lamp post could only be understood by another one like it, but one that are devoid of light—an artificial light that is, it would be a pure mockery to say that when this one bears the light that surpasses all physical form and shape; a star.

like a star that keeps on burning in flames, etching it's existence above the glittered universe—that would be the perfect way to define him.

and with that, the year 97' will come to an end; autumn leaves will fade back to the original vibrant shades of verdure returning to adorn the land once again, going back and forth in a constant loop but despite that you'll try to memorise each word, one at a time, until you can form your own word.

" 誰も��さまざまな形で苦しみや幸福を経験します。

大丈夫、一日ずつやっていきましょう。

ただ生き続けるだけではありません。 ライブ。

あなた自身のための ：）"

a word with an alternate definition where you can create your own serendipity first, all while waiting for the rest to come. and even if it didn't come, atleast you still have yourself.

"goodnight for now."

end of footage. . .

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