#aftermath of incidents au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lowkeyclueless5137 · 4 months

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The JJK mild au! :D

Because I just want to put the skrunklily through the horrors ™.

Will I have comfort? Will I follow Gege's footsteps and crush any hope of your fave ever catching the light of day in this Au? Welp... Only one way to find out. :3c

Again, if you know jjk, you know the absolute mountain of trigger warnings that will follow this Au. If not, I have a short list with the most proeminent: gore, murder, a lot of unhinged and messed up things... Yep. No one is spared. -3-

And we follow our wittle, tiny Jade this time! Man, I sure hope this one doesn't succumb to the horrors. :3c

So with everything outta the way... You get my pure, unfiltered and unedited thoughts with this Au. It's not like it's a difference from other Au Explanations I have. :'3

Also! I'll have to give u a fair warning: there will be brief spoilers for the anime in here, so I advise you to proceed with caution. I won't tag them, but I will mention certain big events. So when you see a mention of the event you last are up with, it's your cue to click off. :3

There will be also spoilers for book 7 in here so ya know... :3

We start off with bg: Jujutsu sorcerers were all around the world, but Japan had the biggest concentration of curses, hence why the most powerful sorcerers were there along with the elders, main Council organ. To exert some sort of order around, on other continents were instaurated sub-councils with other elders in charge of those matters. Only when very world end-level problems occur do these news reach the main elders and action is throughly taken. There are, ofc, student exchanges and a lot of multicultural trading in those continents as they are big areas who have to concentrate on the place with most curses.

That is your bg for now. This Au takes place in parallel with JJK's plot. Like imagine it starts in between JJK 0's Aftermath and Yuji eating the cursed finger events. Doesn't mean things won't get correlated, so you'll get mentions of the anime events.

We follow Jade. Now Jade was someone who lived quite cozy with his parents, following his local high-school. His brother was given a scholarship to a prestigious school in France and for 2 years Jade didn't see him. He did keep in touch via daily calls. His brother was sending him an abundance of messages and photos, but after his first year, he started to slowly lose contact, to the point Jade had no contact with his brother for some good months. It felt like something was wrong, but Jade assumed that things picked up some pace and his brother was trying to keep it up.

It was the start of school tho, when Jade got the news that his parents were coming home from work, when they got in a car accident. None of them survived, as such the news were given to Jade by his homeroom teach.

He was keeping his calm and he did try to reach his brother, but again, no contact. His teacher informed that his only relatives who could take them in were his aunt and uncle in Japan. Jade still asked for him to not be given a grace period to mourn as he will be fine. What he wants tho, is to get in contact with his brother. He was assured that his brother is likely to be informed as well by his school teachers and he will attend the funeral.

Floyd did not attend the funeral. Instead, an old family friend, Azul, attended. He was from France, but did not mention anything about Floyd. Jade's worries start to skyrocket as something clearly was wrong. Still, he kept his usual Demandour, which gained fear from other students, who couldn't believe Jade was acting like normal when his parents just kicked the bucket. And in a car accident too! So it wasn't something that could be pre-derminated and made peace with that easy.

One day, Jade stood after hours, packing some of his things for his imment move to Japan, when he caught glimpse of someone trespassing. Usually he wouldn't mind it.

But the trespasser looked awfully similar to someone that appeared multiple times in Floyd's photos. The latter did talk about the guy and Jade knew that he was supposed to be in France, not in here, in the east. It was on the whole other side of Europe!

So Jade pursues the guy, finding out he's named Jamil. The guy had with him some small thing that he was frantically trying to wrap in some seal bandage. He was hurrying and as such, Jade took him by surprise.

Jamil almost called out to Floyd, looking as if he saw a ghost, to which Jade took as another red flag. He inquired to know why Jamil was here and what was he doing with whatever that was. The latter was all tensed up and clearly ready to attack Jade, but he suddenly halted and rushed inside the school without any warning.

Jade didn't have any idea what was going on, but all he knew was that the school was getting trashed by an invisible force that Jamil apparently could see and could interact with. He seemed eager to protect whatever that thing was, but he dropped it and Jade picked it up.

It was a finger. Jade had a very bad feeling about it, but apparently whatever that invisible force was knocked him into a wall and thus the finger ended up in Jade's mouth. With the need for air, the latter swallowed the finger in an attempt at clearing his throat and taking a breath. He couldn't spit it because his mouth was holded close by the invisible force.

And slowly, Jade saw the invisible thing gaining a figure. It was a monster, looking more like a bunch of formless flesh moving around, with a big mouth darted with fangs, ready to eat Jade up, but thing suddenly went black.

Meanwhile, for Jamil, imagine his horror when he saw the curse blasted from inside out and Jade there, but with marks lining his body. 4 eyes looked at Jamil, which shaped into an all infamous grin as it wasn't Jade anymore, but someone else, someone who immediately butchered that curse.

And Jamil wanted to fight the new guy, but he gets stopped when the marks and 2nd pair of eyes dissappear and Jade finds himself in the middle of the whole mess, absolutely confused about what happened.

To add salt to the wound, Azul shows up. Jamil looks absolutely done with the latter, who apparently, was his teacher. Jade did inquire to know what the actual fuck is going on, because he thought he would die in here, only to find his jacket and tie ripped to shreds and in the middle of a crater made in the school floor.

Azul only inspects a bit Jade, asking very odd questions such as: do you feel wierd? Do your sides feel crammed? Is your teeth hurting? Do you carve meat? Questions which got all a prompt no from Jade. He only says that he feels a need to sleep, to which Azul reassures that he should succumb to it.

The second Jade closes his eyes, the marks reappear, the eye colors switch, an adițional pair of eyes open and nails grow longer. The new person Azul refers to as Floyd, who didn't look happy the slightest at the sight of the latter, accusing him of being a backstabber.

So Azul holds up his point that he was helpless in that situation, all the while dodging Floyd's attacks. Jamil is watching because Azul forbid him from getting into the fight, rather he watched what exactly was a special grade capable of. Floyd seemed more cautious than before, which allowed Azul to easily knock him out.

When Jade wakes up, he's in a very cold room, littered with seals as his hands are tied heavily. In front of him, Azul was standing and clearly found the situation as amusing as Jade did. The younger one asked what in the world is going on, to which Azul replies that Jade is oddly calm for the situation that he is in.

Then he moves aside, revealing that behind him, there was someone else tied up, facing Jade. Unlike Jade tho, the said person was tied by every limb, with heavy chains, their hands sealed in a metal box, impossible to see from inside. What was more or less wierd were the fins the person had on their body, which were quite big and sharp, almost like knives.

Jade tho, recognised the teal hair and the frame. It was Floyd, his very own twin brother.

Before Jade could even sink in the info, Azul explains that Floyd was here because he discovered a forbidden ritual. He achieved something that was believed to be almost impossible: a complete metamorphosis into a curse. Hence why the inhuman appearance.

Azul adds that the European council of elders deemed Floyd as 'the next sukuna' and in fear of him betraying them, they sealed him away and cut his fingers, in hopes they could use them as cursed artefacts and thus use them to keep curses around a bit more tamed, just how Japan used Sukuna's fingers for the exact purpose. So far, Floyd's situation is one of a sealed curse, thus he shouldn't be a problem anymore.

What the council disregarded tho, was Azul, who wanted to know how exactly his student achieved such thing. And Jade was the answer. He tells Jade that now Floyd's consciousness moved into Jade and he could take control any time he deems fit. Jade didn't have enough cursed energy before so Floyd's sudden overtake spiked it up, hence he could see his brother now.

Jade only demands to be freed. For him and his brother to be freed, but Azul denies him of that. He says that if the council finds out that Jade ate a cursed finger and currently is a vessel for Floyd, they will execute him. But, Azul promises that he will free Jade on one condition: Comply with his terms, keep this whole ordeal a secret and help him find out how this metamorphosis was achieved. It was something revolutionary after all. It wasn't a reincarnation, rather something else. And Azul wanted to find out what.

Jade has to accept, but he puts his own condition: that Azul will do anything in his power to free his brother. With these, the deal is made and Azul frees Jade from his imprisonment. Not before knocking him out first. :3

And while knocked out, Jade finds himself on soft sand, in a sort of underwater like place. Everything felt lighter and even fishes and other sea creatures swam around, some even passing through Jade.

And that's also when he hears and sees Floyd again.

The latter had the same marks on his body, but only his ear fins and claws were present. He mentions how this is not what he had in mind for a reunion, but is taken aback when Jade hugs him and tells him that he missed the funeral. That their parents died and now both were supposed to be under their aunt's custody.

Floyd, unlike how Azul warned that curses are quite unfazed by death, tears up at the news and at first tries to play it off as just a very lame joke from his brother. But it was real. And when the confirmation is made, Jade could see how the place darkened and fishes around fleed. Floyd bursted into tears and Jade could do oh so much but to hug him and pat his back. The latter begged for Jade to do anything but get in trouble, but it was too late.

Both were aware of the deal Jade had with Azul and as such, both knew that if they wanted to be back together and safe, they would have to fight against the system.

So while at that, Floyd decides to fill Jade in with everything. He was currently in Floyd's domain: Eden's Abyss. Floyd explains the basics of jujutsu and gives to Jade an insight on what he should expect.

But what Floyd adds is the way the council works here, in Europe. In Japan things were far more straightforward, with bloodlines being preserved for their jujutsu techniques. In here it was a whole amalgam of who has and who doesn't. Since jujutsu is a hereditary trait, Floyd clears out that there one of their ancestors was a jujutsu sorcerer. The gene just wasn't awakened in anyone until Floyd himself.

What Floyd makes clear was that in Europe, the council was made out of the most whealty jujutsu sorcerers. They primarily used their money to establish their own monopoles and as such use them to hide the actual activities of jujutsu sorcerers.

Right now, Floyd gave to Jade 3 important names: The Asims, the Shrouds and Crowley. He adds that unfortunately, the strongest European sorcerer is Malleus Draconia, whose grandma was kicked out of the council, following her daughter's actions years ago.

Floyd made it clear that he hates Crowley especially, since he was the one who gave the decree of sealing him away.

Jade asks what he's supposed to do to free his brother. Floyd admits that it's not that simple, since without his cursed power, which was sealed in the fingers, he would be as good as dead meat the second he's freed from those chains. He doesn't know where fingers are scattered, but if Jade has one, he should search for the rest. Once he gets all of them, Floyd promises he'll 'handle it from there'. He should nudge Azul into searching for the fingers, since he would know most likely where most of them were.

After that plan is devised, the 2 actually do chat and catch up with one another. Until Floyd deems that enough time passed and Jade should wake up. As such Jade is kicked out of the domain and back into consciousness.

Jade wakes up on a couch, in a notably very large living room. Azul notes how he woke up and that his husbands are gone to work now, so Jade will have time to get filled with his chores.

Azul made some mending so that Jade is unofficially participating under his courses as a jujutsu teacher. He is not allowed to go on campus ground, nor is he allowed to have a dorm room, so in the mean time, Jade will be a guest in Azul's penthouse and do chores when the latter has work on the school campus.

For now, Azul presents around and gets Jade to understand that at the moment he's in fricking Paris and since he doesn't know French, it would be a bit of a hard time to do errands outside. Azul was, ofc, prepared for this, saying that he always had his students who don't know French use sum flashcards at first. They were some pretty simple ones, with translation on the back of them.

Jade notes how he talked with Floyd while he was unconscious. At that, Azul perks up, asking if by chance, Floyd could hear them. Jade indeed confirms that his twin can hear what he hears and see what Jade sees. Floyd just chooses not to bother with the latter.

Azul exhales and starts by saying that if Floyd is wondering about the fingers, that is the problem: Azul was denied of knowing anything about the fingers. Jamil, his student, was sly enough to get sum Intel about one and hence his meeting with Jade. Currently the fingers are used to draw in one place curses before they would be properly turned into seals.

But, for the meantime, this is everything Jade shall know about.

That night, Jade caught Azul talking over the phone with his husbands, seemingly being upset over something. Jade doesn't pry as the latter only serves him dinner, opting to not eat too before going to bed. Floyd also seems to not know what's going on with Azul and his love life, but he assumes something was up.

First days were Azul teaching Jade basics in jujutsu control, all the while Jade gets to know Azul's other 2 students: Kalim and Jamil. Kalim is a sunshine and Jamil is just a resting bitch face on main. :'3

Jamil tries to 'educate' Jade on Azul, saying that this guy makes place for owning a restaurant, teaching jujutsu sorcery and also being overly flamboyant and dramatic. He absolutely hates Azul's guts and would rather have been teacher by the other teach at the school: Lilia Vanrogue. Unfortunately that old guy has already 2 pupils under him. And Jamil wholeheartedly believed that he could beat both of the 'elite' students and impress Vanrogue, but Azul still won't give him an opportunity to meet a sorcerer who could promote him to a grade 2 or more.

Kalim tho seemed pretty happy with his grade 3.

At first Jade his hand in trying out to fight curses around. To ensure that Floyd won't go apeshit every fucking time Jade's on a mission, Azul gave to the latter a grade 3 cursed weapon, to have everyone on the same foot somewhat. He would stay with them and always be in a close proximity in case of anything. Afterwards, if they did a good job, the latter would treat them to something nice from his restaurant menu.

One day, Jade is sent to do errands when he stumbles upon a bakery. The guy at the cashier was one year older than Jade, who introduced himself as Trey. He was pretty nice and even gave to Jade a croissant on the house part, saying that he looks awfully similar to a buddy of his friend.

Unfortunately, a curse also was in proximity. And unfortunately, Jade thought it would be short work since it looked weak. It didn't do anything, only move around in the ground and avoiding being stepped on by unsuspecting people.

Jade followed it, getting himself to meet much more stronger curses. Of course, trying to retreat proved futile and Floyd deemed it necessary to take over and finish off the curses in question. Still the fact that he was only at 1 finger power and overnumbered meant he didn't get out unscratched, hence Jade found himself with a much longer stay in the Eden's Abyss.

When Jade wakes up, the first person he sees is a very annoyed Azul, who nags him about getting into danger. The good part was that Floyd took over and stumbled upon another special grade who could heal the body itself.

The good news: they found a finger and the condition they could use to track the others.

Bad news: Riddle found out. And boy is he NOT happy of the whole ordeal.

Jade does inquire to know who tf is Riddle, to which it comes the response: Riddle is the special grade curse who can take on a human form. His job is to act like a healer for the European jujutsu society and in return he's not immediately killed.

Riddle himself was also there and immediately gives a forehead flick to Jade, nagging him for drawing curses near the bakery. The bakery is a place Riddle usually frequents as Trey is his friend as such is a ground 0, where curses rarely gather up. With the lately spike in them, Riddle was more around the place. But Jade's presence itself made the finger to react and thus act like a sort of caller for curses around.

Azul brings up that he will have to bribe some other sorcerers around the aera to not say a thing about the finger missing. He had calls non-stop and he blames Jade for wondering aimlessly after curses.

After that thing, Azul gets an order from the higher-ups to investigate a 'grade 2' curse with his students, which was roaming through the catacombs.

Surprise, surprise, it's a special grade. Now Azul would've been fine if it was just one, but no. There were multiple, all spread through the catacombs. Floyd insisted, multiple times, for his brother to let him take over, but Jade was stubborn, his recent nagging still pushing him to prove that he could deal with things without his brother needing to take over.

Jade almost dies so Floyd forcefully takes over in order to try and preserve what little life was left in the body.

It ends again, with Riddle whining about Jade being even more stubborn than his brother, while Azul clearly paces around and Kalim with Jamil try to calm tf down their teacher.

Meanwhile, Floyd confronts his brother his domain. Really both of them could've been gone for, to which Jade replies that Floyd still had 8 other fingers to use to get free.

Floyd says that he doesn't want to be free if he knows his one and only brother died because of him.

And this is what apparently breaks Jade down enough to sob aloud and cry about the fact that he almost died in there. He didn't want to die. He didn't want Floyd to die. He didn't want anyone in his family to die anymore. Why was that such a hard task?

Floyd really didn't know what to say to comfort his twin. He was blunt: Jade is though, but he shouldn't push to the very end. Leave things to him when it gets overwhelming.

A thing to note about Floyd, now that Jade had 3 out of 10 fingers, was that he was a bit more closer to the form Jade first saw chained up. It was a sign that the latter was growing in power.

And it showed also through other things, such as sometimes popping up on Jade's cheek as an eye with a mouth to speak outloud or sometimes controlling one of Jade's hands to show a sign or smth. It wasn't that drastic, but it was smth.

Meanwhile, Azul got a concerning call, which put him in a quite foul mood for the whole week. It showed in a much harsher training and overall not being his usual dramatic self.

What was the reason? His husbands came back. Jade initially thought it was something to be happy about, since those were his husbands after all. He never saw the 2 up until now.

No, Azul was mad because of WHY these 2 came back.

And it's painfully obvious when Jade sees for the first time Idia and Malleus, both looking quite apologetic. Alas, despite his raging need to scream and let his frustrations loose, Azul forgave them, which was surprising to Jade. Being an old family friend, Jade had his fair share of times where Azul got angry and boy does he not forgive that easy.

Idia was a grade one with his cursed weapon which housed inside Ortho. Malleus was a special grade due to his jujutsu technique and his domain expansion: Fae of Maleficene.

The latter insists on why Jade is here and Azul admits that Jade is Floyd's twin and thus he is taking care of him. Idia does raise a brow at that, but doesn't question, saying that the council found out that he was with Yuuta and helping him with working with Rika. Yuuta had to prepare for a leave when news about Sukuna reincarnating reached around, along with the Shibuya incident. Hence they decided to have Idia train some first years, while Malleus is entrusted with exterminating the 'curses hospots' caused by the fingers. It was supposed to be a secret mission, but clearly Malleus couldn't lie to anyone to save his ass.

As such, for starters, Azul insists for Jade to tag along with Malleus. He isn't actually repartised as any kind of student so him laying off the radar, under Malleus, will be a perfect way to keep at least a worry off.

As for Idia, Azul brought up how he didn't really know about the first years given to the latter. Idia admits that maybe their son did turn over a new leaf and things would be better.

Jade had no fricking idea Azul had a kid to start with.

Entering the first years coming to Paris. Unlike Jade's expectation to be 2 or 3, these mfs were 5 in number. And all were quite a bunch. From the discussion about them, Jade expected that the lavender haired one or the ginger to be the son in question, since they were more rowdy.

No, it was Deuce, the quiet bluenette, who seemed very happy to see again his parents.

Idia did take the first years with him, since they would stay at the dorms and Azul had to bid farewell to Jade for a while as now he had to follow Malleus around.

And it was awkward af. The latter was painfully blunt in everything. The pure truth was always given. As such, Jade took a leap of fate and asked about Deuce.

Malleus admits that Deuce is not a biological child, rather Deuce was found after an incident with a curse. He was small, around 2 or 3 and Azul was the one that found him. His mother was killed by said curse and the child unknowingly thought she fell asleep, so he was trying to wake her up because he was scared of the 'monster' in his room.

Malleus admits that maybe it was his and Idia's skepticism of the situation at start that may have nudged Deuce to grow into a delinquent and thus be sent to a boarding school as a last resort. But Azul missed him dearly and was heartbroken to know that the council was expecting for Deuce to become a jujutsu sorcerer hence why they made the papers in secret to transfer Deuce from the said school. No one is very proud of their status as a sorcerer in here. If you don't have money or the immense luck to be born in a family of the council, any mistake can be fatal.

With that out of the way, Jade is assisting Malleus with dealing with the curses hotspots, but they find no fingers. Something clearly was amiss.

Even Floyd was restless, telling his brother that he is sensing something wrong. He doesn't know what, but his gut is rarely wrong, so he asks of Jade to be on his toes in case of anything.

Things clearly were becoming more weirder. Azul apparently reported an increase in grade 1 curses and so far, the council dispatched Azul's team to all of them, as if expecting 2 grade 3 sorcerers to deal with that. He tried to take it with Lilia, but the latter admits that his students were given awfully simple missions. They were working lately with grade 4s and it was clear with each day that his students had to train separately to keep their skills sharp.

Then Idia comes, with his own report. His students were on a mission with a supposed grade 1. I say supposed, because Idia himself returned with a huge wound across his torso and the rest thankfully escaped with smaller ones, only because Ortho was aiding. Idia concludes that something is amiss with the curses labeling since what they exorcised there was a special grade.

Riddle also had his plate full, as being the only one who could use reverse cursed technique and heal others. He was a curse himself, but he has his limits too, you know?

Now when Jade talked with Jamil and Kalim, the 2 admit that now they know why Azul was so skeptical on a promotion. Jamil remembered that Floyd got himself a promotion to semi-grade 1 back before he became a curse and they were suddenly having a less of a spike in difficulty. It was Azul's scheme of training them without the council intervening too much. Silver and Ruggie, Lilia's students, were currently semi-grade 1 and grade 2 respectively.

It also implies that, for some reason, the council aims to exterminate the lower grades.

And for this, we suddenly get an announcement from the council: the one who kills Jade Leech will get promoted to grade 1 sorcerer and gain a seat in the council itself.

You can imagine Jade's absolute shock upon finding out this. It was a hunt for him of all people and to make matters worse, it was mentioned that currently he has no cursed technique or enough cursed energy to even see curses. The others would see Jade as already dead, a short work of you will.

The problem, clearly was Azul, who was protecting Jade.

And this is made painfully clear when Azul suddenly decides that they have to flee to Italy. They still had 6 fingers to find as Jade and Malleus uncovered 1 during their expeditions together. Idia offered to take Kalim and Jamil under his wing for as long as Azul needs to be gone.

Jade insists tho, that he can manage. He has Floyd by his side and he could deal with those sorcerers who desperately want that place in the council. Azul denies him of going alone, knowing that they are talking about multiple people who chase after the spot. From grade 3 to 1, everyone wants a spot in the council. It's the only way to assure one's future for the rest of their life.

But, they don't even get to leave Paris, that already chaos unleashed. Many sorcerers were simply hunting for each other in order to eliminate competition, which in turn got non-sorcerers to run around in panic and try to flee the sudden wierd disasters. Paris was big and crowded, which only allowed for more calamities to happen and thus more injured.

And that's also when the new decree is made: that Azul is a traitor for protecting Jade and thus he is also on the list for ramson.

It was all an elaborate plan to pin the blame on Azul and get rid of him once and for all.

Up until now, Jade never saw Azul's cursed technique. He only used a special grade weapon: Neptune's wrath, which seemed to do the job. But now, Jade gets to see upclose Azul's actual cursed technique: Replica, a technique which allows Azul to replicate to perfection other cursed techniques he sees. He replicated Riddle's Reverse cursed technique to heal himself and Jade mid battle, along with a bunch of others from different sorcerers.

This is also why Azul was a special grade. If only he sees a technique, he could immediately replicate it. It's an absolute broken ability and Jade wondered why Azul didn't use it so often.

But, with every sorcerer that comes their way, Jade is painfully made aware on why. It's either kill or be killed. Either they finish off the said sorcerer or manage to permanently immobilise them, or they will both die at the hand of the enemy.

Azul insisted for them to head to Italy, because in Rome is situated the council meeting place. They needed to get there and make justice with their own hands.

Unfortunately, people start allying together, which only makes more difficulty to flee the city. The airport was closed off due to the chaos and Paris itself was bordered around to 'keep the supranatural circumstances confined'.

At one moment, the 2 run into Vil, a grade 1 sorcerer with a unique cursed technique: Condition of beauty. He can put a condition on anything in his touch range and if the condition isn't met, Vil entraps the enemy who touched the object into a small charm prison. He can release them at will too, so one knows that Vil has at his disposal some effects, curses and even sorcerers he could summon in battle.

And Vil manages to catch Azul with his technique. Now, Jade expected wholeheartedly to be killed the second he saw Azul gone.

But Vil notes how Jade was able to see his technique. He saw the charms and the curses he released. And this goes against the council's claim that Jade is a normal guy.

As such, Vil gives to Jade, by force, 4 cursed fingers that he was initially told to dispatch. Vil used those to lure out curses, but now he had a pretty good idea that Azul protected Jade because of the finger that went missing in Jade's aera at first. He mentions how the staged accident surely got rid of half the problem for the council.

And something snaps in both of the twins. When Floyd takes over, he's downright rabid over the news that their parents's accident was staged. Why tf didn't Azul tell them that?!

Vil says that Azul is blacklisted from a lot of things. His husbands, students and the bribes he gives around are the only way he gets news of things. If he doesn't suspect something, he doesn't take action to find out.

Floyd does end up pinning Vil to the ground and inquiring why he should even think of sparing his life. The answer is simple: Vil has Azul and if Floyd kills him, all of the living things that were holded hostages in the charms will die.

Floyd does comply and gives the control back to Jade, who asks what does Vil gain out of it. The model says that he is sick and tired of the council and wants to get rid of them. And the only way that is assured, is if they awaken what they feared the most: Floyd. Floyd's main cursed technique: bounce off, is a technique which allows for any attack to ricochet off Floyd himself or something else he places his technique on. Since he became a curse, Floyd developed much more volatile attacks, whom became an actual threat to the council.

As such, Vil promises to only free Azul after Floyd will finish off the council.

Unfortunately, for them, they run into Deuce, who is more than mad over Azul being sealed. Add with the chaos that holds up Idia and others, it's clear that reasoning was hard to reach the latter.

In the end, Deuce dies... Not by Vil, Jade or Floyd, but because Vil unsealed Azul temporarily once an enemy ambushed them and took Deuce hostage. Seeing the special grade, the enemy immediately killed Deuce, using that as an attempt at a distraction, knowing that Azul would mourn his son. And he did do exactly that.

Except that Jade was the one who actually kills the enemy, as to not let them get away. Azul is absolutely devastated and Vil offers to seal him in a charm again, to not witness this. Azul wanted to deny, but Jade accepted for him, reasoning that if the sorcerers see only Jade and Vil keeps sum distance, they would assume Azul was taken care of and thus leave him in an advantage.

When asked where did Vil even bring them, the model says that he will bring them to the execution room, where Floyd's material body is kept. They had 8 fingers already. Vil deemed it enough to free Floyd.

Unfortunately, on the way, we have many others who kicked the bucket: Kalim(he tried to protect Jamil), Ruggie(he used himself as a distraction so the group could proceed), Sebek (sacrificed himself for Silver and Lilia), Ace(died when he fought a grade 1 sorcerer in an attempt at taking them away from the civilians). There were others such as Cater and Rook, whom Jade bearly meet, yet still they died for Vil.

Reaching, finally, the said room, Vil was the one who unsealed Floyd, the latter gaining slowly consciousness, yet he needed much more than that.

Imagine Jade's shock when his own brother stabbed him in order to get back his power. He still missed 2 fingers, thus he wasn't at his full potential, but he knew a bit of reverse curse technique to heal Jade back up.

Unfortunately, this is where Jade's supposed adventure should end. Floyd deemed that his brother did enough and this is now in between him and the council that sealed him away and planned to kill their parents. Jade, tho, denies of this, saying that he wants to avenge his parents too. That he wants to protect Floyd, that he didn't go through all this just to be told to sit back now, when it was clear it's needed any kind of help they could get.

What doesn't help them is that, this time, more sorcerers, the elite ones, were going around for them. Vil was killed, not before releasing everything in his charms with his last breath, thus unleashing a chaos of rampant curses. At least Azul was free, but at the cost of a lot of special grade curses reeking havoc around.

One of those curses was Floyd tho, who still was looking for his last 2 fingers. He felt their presence and demanded that he couldn't hunt down the council is he doesn't get the last 1.

One was hidden among the catacombs, which was an easy grab.

The other was at Lilia. :'3

And Lilia, clearly takes a jab at Azul for helping out the curse. He was always wary of Riddle, for curses have in their nature to feast upon one's suffering. Riddle was a curse on expectations. He thrived in here and he healed people just so he could thrive off their unfulfilled expectations. But Floyd? No one knew what kind of curse Floyd was. He used to be a human, but now he is a curse. A curse on what? What deep negative emotions could possibly Floyd be thriving from?

Unfortunately, Lilia was much more experienced than Azul, a fellow special grade with 1 technique: return to nature. Using that on Azul before he could copy it, immediately made the latter an easy kill.

Which, again, seemed to snap something in Jade. Floyd was leading the attack, but Jade was actually fighting and finishing off Lilia, via a stab in the throat.

Yet, despite their need to move on quick, Floyd allowed for them to stay a few minutes, once he saw Jade's tear full face. Floyd could only offer a hug and summon his domain, knowing that they are overwhelmed in this situation. He was back to his full power, but that was also with a price.

Jade does ask his brother, why did he become a curse in the first place? To look where they are now and tell him why did Floyd to that? Why did he give up on his humanity?

Floyd replies that he became a curse, that is meant to condamn all curses. His hatred of curses took roots and feed on other sorcerers's hatred. Already it was complicated and it only allowed for the whole process to be faster.

And now, Floyd tried feeding off his brother's hatred for this whole situation. He didn't find any hatred for curses, to which came the response: Jade could never hate his brother. He didn't hate curses, rather he hated the council, for the council was responsible for all of this.

And Floyd promises, while still in the hug, that he will do anything in his power to help Jade reach his goal.

And thus, it is born a binding vow in between the 2.

And here we finish off for now :3

With a cliffhanger, for all your hanging needs. :3

At the start, there were a lot of subplots: Azul's restaurant, Jamil wanting a promotion, Trey shenanigans... Then you slowly get even more once other students get introduced, only to have them end up with a halt when the hunt for Jade starts.

Theoretically, the twins doing their binding vow would happen around the time of the culling games arc in cannon JJK, so imagine that it's around that if you wonder what Yuji was up to during that time. :3

Welp... That would be all for now!

Until next time! Buh bye! :3

#twisted wonderland #jjk au #Damn everyone is starting nice and slow #And then half the cast hits the bucket -3-#There are book 7 spoilers #And a few for the Shibuya incident Aftermath #So that's everything to note #Also Jade's an interesting protagonist... :3 #It's fun to throw him through the horrors :3 #He broke down like 2 times in this whole thing

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cinnaminsvga · 3 months

Text

Harana | Jungkook

harana (n.): the act of wooing someone by serenading them

→ summary:

Unwilling to settle down with you after five years of dating, Jeon Jungkook decides to break up to chase after his dreams. In the aftermath, you leave your hometown, desperate to forget your past and relearn what it means to be on your own. Two years later while on your way to work, you pass by a familiar voice singing songs about a girl he had left behind.

{or alternatively: Jungkook still sings the love songs that he wrote for you. He still means them, too.}

→ genre: busker!au, exes to lovers, angst, humor → warnings: jimin is insane and kinda crude (he has some issues going on), jungkook is a pathetic wet bunny but he's trying his best, oc has So Many Problems, so much arguing and yearning, ambiguous ending??? but my god there is hope!! the humanity of it all!! → words: 16.1K → a/n: HOLY SHIT IM BACK (kinda) and happy new year!! yeah ok its march but im relearning how to form coherent sentences so be patient ;w; this is the first installment of my hfoh series that i teased a LONG time ago... i made it a resolution to complete this series by the end of the year before i kms (Keep Myself Safe) so here's to a brand new year :D (oh god @ universe pls be kind)

part of the “heart full of hugot” series

Two days before the incident, your shower nozzle decides to explode.

Okay, you have to admit that statement is a little misleading. Shower nozzles, in all its nonsentience, do not randomly decide to explode no matter how much you try to defend yourself to your landlord. Maybe your grip had been a little too harsh that morning, or maybe hanging 5 pounds of hair products on the handle had been a bit too much for the old sport to handle. Or maybe, just maybe, the universe was warning you about the incident.

Whatever it was, it doesn’t erase the fact that your shower would be out of commission for the next week or so (though your landlord seems adamant about prolonging your suffering as long as possible). Until then, you’re going to have to find some other ways to keep the grease and grime from building on you. Heavens know that you already have a thriving ecosystem living in the back of your couch—you don’t need another one growing under your armpits.

Lucky for you, you have friends. More importantly, you have friends who have showers. There is one problem though—all your friends live on the other side of the country.

It’s been two years since you moved to the Big City™️, but you have done little to grow your social network. Call it introversion or depression, either way, you have no more contacts on your phone than you did when you left your hometown. Well, except for one person, if you could even consider him one. Frankly, you didn’t have a choice.

“Welcome to my humble abode, stinky,” Jimin greets you as you enter his house. Your nose is instantly assaulted by the smell of Bath & Body Works® Sweet Pea, reminding you once more why you didn’t consider him a friend.

“Hey,” you reply gruffly, shucking your ratty shoes near his entrance. Your shoes look incredibly out of place amidst the sea of designer Chelsea boots and a singular pair of thigh-high heels. You take a glance at his living room, already feeling worse about yourself tenfold.

You had met Park Jimin by complete accident, much like how his mother probably felt when she first saw him too. You had never known anyone quite as… interesting as him, to put it lightly.

When you got your job as a hostess for a luxury bar and restaurant, you figured you wouldn’t make many friends with your coworkers. Everyone was so… pretty, but in the shiny, untouchable sort of way. Almost all of the servers were as gorgeous as the models you’d see in magazines. You hadn’t known that the owners only hired a certain “demographic” of people for their restaurant, and you were equal parts flattered and disgusted that you’d somehow made it (though you suppose your bullshitting skills were all to thank).

Unsurprisingly, even the bartenders were gorgeous, including one Park Jimin. He did have an aura to him that screamed “I’m a cut above the rest and I know it,” but that could just be the gold chains dripping down his neck. You almost mistook him as one of the patrons who mistakenly made his way behind the bar, and knowing the sort of clientele you’ve had to deal with so far, you wouldn’t have been surprised. It took a couple of weeks before you finally found out who he was (and what his fucking problem was).

Jimin was a part-time bartender with a full-time job as a bitch a self-made entrepreneur. Which is to say, he sold… tasteful photos of himself on the internet. You had nothing against his line of work. In fact, you would go far as to say you didn’t give a shit what he did outside of your shared workspace. But if there’s one thing Jimin is, it’s that he hates being ignored.

So when you were adamant about not oohing and aahing at everything that makes Park Jimin perfect, he made it his self-appointed mission to befriend you. Or at least that’s what he claims, but given how he treats you lesser than the shit that cakes his cheeks, you have a lot of doubts. Perhaps he’s never made an effort to make a friend, hence his inexperience with being a decent human being. Or perhaps he’s just an asshole, but who is to say? The point is: he’s the only person you knew in this godforsaken city who would likely allow you to use his shower without being awkward about it and that’s that.

The worst part about being an acquaintance with Park Jimin was that he lived in the richest area of Downtown but he wasn’t old money, that’s for sure. His entire essence screamed overconsumption, and his myriad of little trinkets littered across his apartment confirmed your previous assessment. You wouldn’t be surprised if you opened his freezer and found ten types of ice sorted assorted by color and shape like the extra bitch that he was.

He made his money through sheer force, and it would have impressed you if he wasn’t, you know. Him.

“Bathroom is over there. I placed a towel and other shower amenities that you can borrow,” he says pointing to a door with a large “FART ZONE: ENTER WITH CAUTION” sign taped to it. You don’t ask.

“Thanks,” you say flatly. You wait patiently for his out-of-pocket comment.

Like clockwork, Jimin smirks. “Sure thing. I gave you the super heavy-duty stuff. Figured you’d burn a hole through my expensive towels with how stinky you are, with your yeasty cu—”

“Aaaand I’ll be done in a few minutes. Thanks again Jimin,” you interrupt, making your way to the bathroom and slamming the door with as much force as you can muster. You hear something fall as the door shuts, and you vaguely hear Jimin mutter something about his “fart zone” signage.

You begin to prepare your shower routine, humming lowly as you go about your business. You try to ignore the suffocating scent of ten million diffusers entering your nostrils, wondering for the umpteenth time if Jimin is suffering from long-term olfactory dysfunction.

“Focus, Y/N. The quicker you shower, the quicker you can get the fuck out of here,” you whisper to yourself. However, in your haste, you knock over Jimin’s towel by accident. When the towel falls, a sheet of sandpaper slips out from underneath it, and you stare bemusedly until it finally hits you.

“YOU ARE SUCH A LITTLE BITCH!”

From behind the door, you can hear Jimin’s infamous cackle. “Did you find the loofah? I got it just for you, darling!” he shouts back through his laughter, and you just grumble back in response. How on earth no one has strangled him to death, you have no idea.

“Whatever. I’m gonna shower now! Go beat off or whatever the fuck you do in your spare time,” you grouse, stripping as quickly as possible.

When the first droplets of water hit your body, you can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. You had both anticipated and dreaded going to Jimin’s house, but you desperately needed the shower. So you go through your routine, trying to find some semblance of relaxation throughout the process. However, it seems that Jimin was yearning for a little bit of attention as he chose to recline on the other side of the door and chat your ear off. Peace was never an option, it seems.

“Hey, Y/N! So why haven’t I seen you at work recently?” Jimin hollers from his living room. Despite the wall separating you, his voice manages to retain its volume.

You squirt a large glob of Jimin’s (expensive) conditioner onto your hands. “What do you mean? I go to work every day. You were the one who hasn’t been clocking in.”

You can hear Jimin scoff. “Um, correction! I went to work last Friday, which so happened to be your day off. If I didn’t know any better, I would have assumed you were avoiding me.”

And right you are, you think. But instead, you say, “Yeah, what a coincidence. I’ll be back to my regular schedule on Monday, though.”

“So that means you didn’t see the Justin Bieber wannabe stationed outside the restaurant then?” Jimin asks, voice miffed. “The guy suddenly sat down by the entrance window and a whole damn crowd started to appear! The absolute nerve of these people—don’t they know Park Jimin was just past the doors?”

This provokes Jimin to go on his long epic soliloquy, which you’ve learned to drown out over the past two years. He could go on hour-long tirades if he wanted, and any interruption from you would just bounce off his nonfunctioning ears. And so, you allow his voice to fall to the back of your mind, similar to white noise if it wasn’t so grating.

However, this was likely your greatest mistake. If you hadn’t been so exhausted, or if Park Jimin hadn’t been so damn annoying all the time, or if the stars had aligned just right… Maybe you would have been forewarned about the incident. It’s as if the universe was screaming at you to pay attention, but alas… You were standing on the proverbial highway, unbeknownst to the incoming traffic because you had your metaphorical AirPods on.

So there you are, completely showered but none the wiser to your impending doom, naively looking to the future with unsuspecting eyes. Even if you had known of what was to come, would avoiding it even be possible? In hindsight, you suppose not, but you still kick yourself for being so blind. If only you’d steeled your heart, then maybe you wouldn’t have felt like vomiting in front of a crowd of innocent bystanders the very next day.

xxx

Monday comes and your shower still isn’t fixed. Jimin makes the benevolent gesture of allowing you to use his shower in the meantime, though you’ll only partake in his offer as minimally as possible. He does mention that he’ll need at least an hour’s notice, warning you about “accidental voyeurism.” You shudder to think of what sort of horror you might find if you did visit him without warning, and you pray for the continued well-being of your retinas.

On your way to work, you’re too busy watching cute videos of animals to notice the unusual flock of people idling close to your workplace. When you get closer, however, the growing commotion is enough to rip your gaze away from your phone, and the sight of the large crowd makes you stop in your tracks.

It is 4 pm and the usual line of waiting patrons should not start piling up for another three hours, so this confuses you more than anything. You shuffle closer, squinting at the crowd until you notice that they aren’t lined up at all; instead, they have congregated into a large circle, but you are too far to see what they are surrounding.

An accident? You worry, wondering if something terrible happened. You tiptoe above the heads of people, subtly moving forward to take a better look. Curse you and your curiosity. You take a deep breath, bracing yourself to see something grotesque or astonishing, but instead…

It’s worse.

Inching closer, you can begin to hear a soft thrumming of a guitar and a gentle singing voice that causes alarm bells to ring in your ears. The warm melody digs up old memories of a time long past: of ballads sung outside your childhood bedroom window, of promises whispered under Spiderman sheets, of tender caresses tucking stray hairs behind your ears… They flood your senses, but all you can feel is dread.

It can’t be who you think it is. You accidentally elbow a guy on your way to get closer, unsteadying his grip on his phone.

“Hey, watch it! I’m filming a totally not-staged TikTok over here!” He yells, but you can hardly pay attention to him when you feel unnaturally drawn to come closer, still.

You’re nearly at the front, with just a couple of teenagers standing between you and the (not-so) mysterious street performer. But the distance is enough, and your breath catches. You can see him—

Black hair partially hidden under a bucket hat. Boots bigger than Pangaea and a pair of eyes equally as large. Dark ink snaking down his arms, peeking out from under oversized sleeves. Piercings that could rival Park Jimin on a good day. He isn’t facing you, but you can still see his big doe eyes, gentle sloping nose, and pretty lips stretched into a handsome smile.

Your heart is thundering in your chest. This can’t be happening, you panic. After two whole years of rebuilding and reshaping yourself, relearning how to be yourself and not… not just his girlfriend.

Jeon Jungkook stands before you, busking in front of your workplace of all locations. The universe could not have been any crueler to you.

You—you had been known as nothing more than Jeon Jungkook’s high school sweetheart. Buried memories of snide comments from jealous teen girls fill your mind, reminding you of the time when you were coined a simple side piece to the main attraction. Decor, as they would call you. Nothing more than a girl who happened to snag Jungkook before people realized he was going to turn… hot. A hot guy who could sing. An inevitable chic magnet, as they would call him.

And now, years later after much therapy and soul searching, your worst nightmare is standing in front of you in the flesh. This is what you will eventually dub the incident.

At that moment, however, there is little to no time to dwell on naming this ongoing core memory. All you can feel is the adrenaline pumping through your veins, as well as the nausea rising up your throat. You stumble backward, blatantly shoving onlookers away as you struggle to find some air to breathe. In hindsight, you probably should have backed away as subtly as possible, but you hope that your dyed hair might be different enough that Jungkook wouldn’t know it was you if he had glanced your way.

Even when you stagger towards your work establishment, the walls cannot perfectly muffle his soothing singing. You can’t make out the lyrics to his song too well, but his unmistakable voice is hard to ignore. Working as a hostess, your station is also coincidentally as close to the door as possible for maximum torture.

This can’t get any worse, you think as your mind races with conflicting emotions. You thought you had moved on, thought you were past the pain and the memories, but seeing Jungkook again, unexpectedly, stirs up a storm of feelings you thought were buried deep. Anger, hurt, betrayal—all rush to the surface, threatening to overwhelm you.

But there is no time to unpack all that baggage right now. Time will continue to march on, and your job is still on the line. How can you have the time to have a mental breakdown when you were still living paycheck to paycheck?

But even as you try to push Jungkook out of your mind, his voice echoes in your ears, his image burned into your memory. It's as if the universe is laughing at your misery, reminding you that despite all your supposed growth, you are still just you.

Painfully and pathetically you.

As you struggle to pull yourself together, a familiarly loud voice rings outside the edge of your consciousness. “Hey, Y/N! Fancy seeing you here…” Jimin greets you, his usual jovial demeanor halting midway when he sees your panicked expression. He clears his throat, perplexed. “Umm… Are you alright there, girl? You’re looking a little pale.”

You do not even have the mental capacity to wonder why Park Jimin was miraculously early to his shift, nor why he seems genuinely worried for you. Rather, all you can do is wave him off and use what little time you have before the restaurant opens to steel yourself for hours of melodious torture.

“I’m fine, Park. You should get to work,” you grit out, wiping your sweaty palms on your uniform. Normally, Jimin would have teased you about the obvious wrinkles on your skirt.

“You’re not the boss of me,” Jimin huffs, always the contrarian. He thinks better of it, however, and softens his tone. “Are you feeling sick or something? You look like you just saw a ghost.”

You freeze, perhaps giving yourself away a little. “I’m fine,” you repeat.

“You know, if you refuse to elaborate, I’m going to have to retract your shower privileges,” Jimin taunts with a smirk.

You feel a migraine growing by your temple, making you wince. God, why must men be the source of all your problems?

“I’m just… a little annoyed by the busker outside the restaurant,” you eventually admit, trying to be vague. Unfortunately for you, Jimin hates beating around the bush and would never take your crap if he knows something is up.

Unable to withstand the weight of his unimpressed stare, you clarify, “He was someone I used to know, that’s all.” You aren’t going to be any more specific than that, though you imagine Jimin gets the picture. You zip your lips, hoping to whoever is causing you pain that Jimin would somehow let the matter drop and leave you to your misery.

You brace yourself for his onslaught of questioning to come, and… it doesn’t happen. Instead, when you glance at Jimin, he is mysteriously stone faced. You wait for him to speak for what feels like a few minutes, but he doesn’t show any signs of wanting to tease or ridicule you. He simply watches you with a pensive expression. You can barely stop yourself from staring back at him, slack-jawed at his silence.

Of course, you aren’t just going to question your luck, or what little you have at least. So, you stay silent back and fidget uncomfortably.

Finally, Jimin seems to snap out of his strange reverie. He fixes you with a bizarrely sympathetic grin, patting you affectionately on the back. “I see… Well, if you ever need a drink tonight, head over to the bar for a little sip. I got you covered,” is all he says in response before sashaying away.

That was so fucking weird. You want to chase after him, perhaps beat the truth out of him. Jimin is nothing but a scheming dick, and you aren’t about to let him roam free with such sensitive information about yourself. Just as you’re about to stomp his ass (perhaps to relieve some of the building tension from your weary soul), your manager pops his head from his office door.

“Y/N! Make sure you’re logged into the booking system. There’s going to be a party of 20 coming in about an hour,” he reminds you, shooting you an apologetic look. You nod back with a sigh, swiping the booking tablet from the hostess desk and scrolling through the logs. Sure enough, it is going to be a busy night despite being a Monday evening. Perhaps a little busier than usual, in fact.

Whatever. You will use whatever distraction you can get, and perhaps the approaching noise from the restaurant patrons will be enough to drown out the sound of his voice.

You aren’t religious by any means, but you pray to whatever higher power exists that Jeon Jungkook doesn’t somehow decide to enter the restaurant. Stay outside, you plead. Outside the restaurant and your life, if possible.

Throughout the evening, you do your best to push aside the memories that threaten to resurface. You greet customers with a smile, lead them to their tables, and ensure their dining experience is pleasant despite the anxiety poisoning your insides. It's a routine you've perfected over time, a shield against the chaos of your emotions.

As the night wears on, you can feel Jimin's eyes on you from across the restaurant. You sneak glances back at him, and you blanch at his pitying gaze. If the restaurant had been slightly less crowded, you would have flipped him off.

He’s probably enjoying my suffering, you think darkly. Unwilling to give him the satisfaction, you straighten up and do your best to appear more unaffected. Just as you do so, you can hear Jungkook perfectly hitting a soulful high note.

“I’m so sorry for thinking I was strong,” you whisper to the universe. “Forgive me for my insolence.” You clench your fist in anguish, ignoring the confused looks from the customers in front of you.

By the time your shift comes to a close, you are completely and utterly drained. You feel like a snail that has been continuously salted over the past eight hours, and you cannot help but cheer in relief when the clock finally strikes two in the morning. You have to wait for the last few diners to make their leave, but otherwise you are ready to let your bed swallow you whole.

You stand by your hostess desk, leaning your head against it with a defeated sigh. Jungkook’s voice had died down only a few minutes ago, and you hope that by this point he has mercifully left the premises. You want to take a peek to make sure, but just as you’re about to make your way to the door, you feel a hand on your shoulder stop you in your tracks.

“‘Sup, bitch.” Jimin still has that weird, pitying gaze pointed at you, though his words don’t match it. “Are you okay to go home alone tonight? I can bring your dumb ass home if you want.”

You shove his hand away, ready to bite his head off when you think better of it. If Jimin drives you home, then that lowers the chances of seeing Jungkook down to pretty much zero.

“You know what? Thanks,” you grouse. Jimin smiles at you winningly, and the image of it brings a shiver down your spine. You hit him, creeped out. “Hey. Stop that, will you? You’re being really weird?”

Jimin scoffs, crossing his arms. “Me? Weird? At least I don’t look like a damn firework ready to explode just because my cringelord ex-boyfriend is singing sappy love songs outside—”

“Shut the fuck up,” you seethe, stomping on his foot. He yelps in pain and slaps your shoulder in retaliation.

“Ouch! Watch your ogre feet! My shoes are worth twice your monthly rent I’ll have you know,” he bristles. He breathes deeply, likely finding his inner calm (which you doubt exists). “But because I’m so nice, I’ll ignore your earlier transgression and blame it on your underdeveloped amygdala.”

You don’t know what’s more surprising: the fact that Jimin knew what an amygdala was or that he was forgiving you in the first place. “Whatever. Let’s finish closing up and then head out. I’m exhausted.”

You make quick work of your task and when you’re ready to head out, Jimin is already waiting by the backdoor. He’s twirling his car keys with a finger and gestures for you to follow him. As you make your way to his car in the back parking lot, you catch sight of a lone figure standing next to a beat-up pickup truck. He’s leaning against it, his hands busy tuning a battered guitar.

Your breath hitches, and you immediately feel nauseous. Of course the incident has yet to end. The night is young, after all.

Jimin accidentally slams the backdoor closed, and the noise wrenches Jungkook’s attention away from his ministrations. Immediately, his eyes lock with Jimin before finally turning to you.

Your heart skips a beat as he gazes at you, your mind racing with a hurricane of emotions. You hadn’t expected to see him again so soon, especially not after the tumultuous encounter earlier in the day. What did you say earlier? That “the chances of seeing Jungkook was down to pretty much zero”?

The chances of seeing Jungkook is low, but never zero, your mind unhelpfully supplies.

There is a long period of awkward silence. Jungkook has his mouth slightly agape, his hand subconsciously lowering his guitar to rest against his truck. To your left, Jimin’s breathing quickens slightly. You, on the other hand, are trying your best not to projectile vomit in this damned parking lot.

Jungkook is the one who decides to break the delicate silence. “Is that you…?” he calls out hesitantly.

Don’t say my name don’t say my name don’t say my name don’t say my name don’t say my—

“Y/N,” Jimin interjects. His gaze is steel cold, uncharacteristic of the carefree boy. He slings an arm around your shoulders, gently nudging you towards his car. With your view still fixed on Jungkook, you miss the way Jimin shoots the other boy with a playful smirk. “C’mon, babe. Let’s go home.”

His words startle both you and Jungkook. “Wha—? Jimin?” you splutter, flushing at his flirtatious undertone. You want to curse him out for his strange behavior, but all the shock has left you mute.

Jimin all but shoves you into the passenger seat. But just as he’s about to slam the car door, you hear Jungkook call out your name. It’s fleeting and quiet, but you heard him crystal clear.

It breaks your spirit to hear him say your name. For a moment, you feel as though you are floating.

When was the last time he called your name? And so softly, too? If you could replay that moment over and over, would you be able to catch some signs of tenderness in his voice? When you close your eyes later that night, would your dreams show you that he had been gazing at you with yearning? Was any of it true?

As Jimin starts the car and pulls away from the curb, you steal one last glance out the window, only to find Jungkook staring at you with an arm outstretched. You continue to watch him until his figure disappears into the night.

You are quietly immersed in your own thoughts, the whirlwind of emotions intensifying your persistent migraine. Unaccustomed to silence, Jimin decides to give his unsolicited two cents, as per usual.

“Geez. Didn’t know you were into the whole starving artist type. If I’d known, then maybe I’d stop trying to brag about my fortune to you,” Jimin scoffs. “If loser buskers like him impress you, then maybe I should—”

“Would you shut the fuck up for once in your fucking life!” You explode, whirling to face him with a glare. Jimin has the audacity to flinch, but he doesn’t take his eyes off the road.

“What the fuck? Why the hell are you mad at me?”

“What the hell was that back there? ‘C’mon babe.’” You mimic his voice with a sneer. “Why on earth would you do that? Now he thinks that we…”

“Why do you care what he thinks? He’s your ex, remember?” Jimin cuts you off, but you can’t even refute him. He continues, “Figured as much. And judging by how spooked you’ve looked all day, I have to assume that he was an asshole, right? Why else would you accept my offer for a ride home if you really wanted to avoid seeing him?”

You shrink under his accurate assumptions. Damn, were you really that easy to read? “I… I mean, yeah but…” You clear your throat, still feeling wronged by him. “You didn’t have to act like a weird prick in front of him!”

Without warning, the floodgates burst forth. You begin to ramble, the thoughts that have been weighing you down pouring out of you in waves. “Jungkook was my ex, yeah. But he wasn’t an asshole. On the contrary, he was really sweet. The nicest guy in my school, at least. Wouldn’t hurt a fly, that sort of person. I dated him all throughout high school and he was a great partner.”

Jimin hums skeptically. “Then why the messy break-up?”

“It wasn’t messy!” You retort defensively.

“Could’ve fooled me!” Jimin snorts. “I also frequently act like a trembling kitten when I see my exes,” he says sarcastically.

You ignore him. “The reason we broke it off was because he wanted to pursue his dreams to become a singer after high school and I wanted to do other things. It was a mutual break-up! Honestly, I’m glad that we did. Too many girls wanted him and all the unwanted attention was getting on my nerves. I was glad to find a reason to end it all,” you explain, hoping you didn’t sound as shaky as you felt. What you said was mostly true, though you left out the important bits to yourself. Mostly to save some of your dignity intact. (Truthfully, you just didn’t want to admit things you weren’t ready to face.)

“Then if you’re so glad, why do you look like you wanted to shit yourself? It ain’t adding up,” Jimin fires back.

“It’s just—” you stammer, trying to find a reason why you were so bent out of shape after seeing him. “I-I was caught off guard, I guess. I knew he was pursuing his dreams to sing and all, so I expected him to leave the country. I wasn’t expecting to see him outside where I work, of all places,” you mutter lamely. You have your head bowed, biting your lips from the nerves. Again, you weren’t totally lying.

Jimin is silent for a moment, contemplating your admission. When he looks so calm like this, it’s hard to get a read on what he’s thinking. As Jimin speeds down the highway, the street lights illuminate his face in a strange way, and for once, he looks like a stranger. His steely expression makes you nervous, for some reason.

Eventually, he asks you a question you would never have expected. “And he just let you go?”

You pause. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” Jimin huffs, irritated. “He just up and left without a fight? If I were him, I would have…” he trails off, his jaw clenching.

You don’t know where this Jimin came from. Under the moonlight, Jimin looks livid, but that can’t be right. Jimin, mad for you? Sure, you’ve seen his anger directed towards you, but this? Everything’s gotten so complicated, and you are just about ready to succumb to sleep and hope to wake from this nightmare.

The rest of the drive to your house is silent, save for the sounds coming from passing cars. Jimin pulls up to your apartment complex, his mysterious anger finally subsiding.

Just as you’re about to reach for the car door handle, Jimin places a hand on your shoulder. “Listen, Y/N. I’ll talk to management tomorrow morning. I know the manager well enough that I can probably convince him to do something about that ex of yours. He’s busking on private property, so it should be easy to get rid of him,” Jimin says, tone serious. He swallows, and for a moment you think he looks a little nervous. “If that’s what you want, I guess.”

His kindness scares you. You want to tease him, ask him where Mr. Bitchy and his $2000 Chelsea boots had gone. Anything to make this air of severe sincerity to abate. This new Jimin feels suffocating. But instead, you nod your head stiffly.

Jimin makes a pained expression for a moment, but it’s quickly replaced by his usual playful smirk. He slaps you upside the head, laughing heartily at your stunned face.

“Get some rest, babe. I’ll see you tomorrow evening,” he chuckles, reaching over to open the door for you. You scramble out into the cold city air, taking one last look back at him through his window.

He rolls it down, leaning forward to flash a toothy grin at you. “Hey, stop with all the angst, pookie. Wouldn’t want my favorite toy to get sick from overthinking. Who else would I bother at work if not you?”

You snort, both endeared and irritated in equal measure. He’s right. Everything was going back to normal tomorrow, you’re sure of it. You flip him off with a cheeky grin before making your way to your apartment.

Everything is going to be okay. Jimin says he’ll do something about it, and for whatever reason, you feel like you can trust him on this. Surely good fortune was soon to be upon you.

xxx

Jimin had texted you while you were still sleeping:

Spoke to Manager Jeong about your little problem. He said he’ll deal with him.

You breathe a sigh of relief, your body feeling significantly lighter. Your sleep last night had been tumultuous and restless. You feel more tired than you did when you went to bed, but all your weariness fades once you read Jimin’s text.

Once you make it to work, you find that management has gotten rid of Jungkook somehow. Added with the fact that your landlord has promised to look into repairing your shower (no guarantees, but you want to stay optimistic), today has been significantly better compared to yesterday. You even catch yourself humming as you set up your workstation, a small smile gracing your lips.

Jimin has a later shift this evening, and you find that you are somewhat disappointed for once. Your overwhelming gratitude is surely the only reason, otherwise you would never admit to wanting to see him at any given time.

You are in the midst of texting Jimin about all the good news when your manager passes by your desk. You are quick to pocket your phone away from his prying eyes, ready to defend that you aren’t slacking off… but his demeanor does not reveal any ire. In fact, he looks rather pleased for once.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Jeong. What’s up?” you ask, suspicious. You instinctively fold your hands behind your back; it is a subconscious effort on your part to keep your distance from him. Something about your manager always gives you a bad feeling when he looks a little too happy.

He grins widely. “Everything is going splendidly, Ms. Y/N. In fact, I think today might just be our lucky day!”

Never during your time working here has his and your luck ever coincided. “Our lucky day?” you echo.

“Why, yes! I spoke with your lovely friend and coworker Jimin this morning,” he starts, and immediately your alarm bells ring. You don’t even bother correcting him about the ‘friend’ part like you normally would. He continues, “He gave me a brilliant idea about the busker who had been performing in front of the restaurant the past two days.”

You nod slowly, not quite understanding. “Yes… The busker has been quite… the spectacle,” you say carefully. Somehow, you know calling Jungkook a ‘nuisance’ would have been the wrong choice in this instance.

Manager Jeong beams. “Exactly! You must have noticed the amount of people we served yesterday despite being a Monday. Additionally, almost all of those new customers requested outdoor seating no less!”

You feel the world tilt on its axis. What is he on abou—?

“What are you talking about?” you exhale.

“Don’t you think it would be even better for business if we got that busker to perform inside the restaurant? Why, it’s a brilliant idea and I don’t know why I didn’t think of it first! Our live band has always been missing something special, and perhaps a vocal accompaniment is the exact answer to our problem! Think about it, the atmosphere would be…”

Manager Jeong continues to prattle animatedly about his plans to your unhearing ears. There must be static or cotton plugging your head because you cannot possibly understand anything he is saying. Jungkook? Inside? Performing at your restaurant? But Jimin said he had spoken to the manager about getting Jungkook away from you! None of this makes sense.

“That makes no sense,” you verbalize, unknowingly cutting Manager Jeong from his monologue. He halts in surprise, as if now just realizing you were standing there (much less capable of interrupting or disagreeing with him). When he snaps out of it, you sense that familiarly sinister aura emerging from him in waves. You belatedly realize he must have mistaken your outburst as antagonistic.

“Well, Ms. Y/N. Whether it makes sense or not, we have hired Mr. Jeon to perform live at the bar stage for the next four weeknights. If, for some unknowable reason, I am incorrect,” he pauses to emphasize his words, “then his services will be promptly terminated. However, judging by his popularity from simply standing out in the cold and singing silly love songs, I am sure that worry is unwarranted.”

Behind you, the telltale sound of the main door swinging open catches you even more off guard. You do not even have the chance to turn to face the newcomer, only managing to register the gust of cold wind that accompanies their entry.

And so, you hear him before you see him.

“Hello?” Jeon Jungkook greets quietly.

Even without turning, you can imagine how he looks, how he stands, how he feels, how he tastes—

Manager Jeong claps his hands gleefully. “Splendid timing! Speak of the devil…” The older man nearly skips towards Jungkook like a youthful school girl, accompanied by his uncharacteristic squeals of excitement.

You can feel his gaze on you, almost tangibly. With nothing but your shreds of dignity left intact, you force yourself to face him.

He’s still so tall, is all your mind can helpfully supply as you stand feet away from your high school sweetheart for the first time in two years. He’s still wearing the same bucket hat from the night before, semi-shielding him from view. Despite that, you catch a small flash of white graze his bottom lip as he chews the soft flesh nervously.

“Hi, Y/N.” He addresses you directly, completely overlooking your manager without a single glance. Despite his hat, he still has his eyes lasered on you, as if not quite believing you were there. You hate how his attention makes you shiver all the same.

Even though he ignored your manager (which would have been a major dispute had you done the same), Jungkook still receives a friendly handshake in return. “Mr. Jeon! I’m surprised you know Ms. Y/N, though I’m sure you must have spoken with her when she was escorting guests to the outdoor seating the other day.”

You had actually gotten your co-hostess to seat all the outdoor seatings yesterday, but you weren’t going to mention that.

Manager Jeong claps him on the back, inadvertently causing Jungkook to stumble forward closer to you. He looks up at you then, eyes bugging out of their sockets like a rabbit caught in a bear trap. You stagger backwards in turn, barely concealing the anxiety on your face. Oh fucking hell.

Your manager is none the wiser, of course. “Well, this makes my job much easier! Since you’re both acquainted, I’ll let Y/N show you the ropes. The band doesn’t start their set until later in the evening, but you’re free to take a look at the stage and other parts of our facility in the meantime,” he says, chuffed. Meanwhile, Jungkook looks like he’s been shot by a freeze ray.

Then, your manager points a sharper gaze at you. “Ms. Y/N, treat our super star well. I know you won’t disappoint me.”

Fucking superstar… You can only nod in defeat. “Y-Yes, sir…” you whisper, clenching your uniform with your fists. It is the only way to keep them from shaking like a leaf. You watch as his figure disappears behind his office door, leaving you to fend for yourself. Powerless, you train your gaze to the floor, unwilling to meet Jungkook’s eyes.

But the nerves are taking control of your body, screaming at you to eject, eject, eject!

“Sorry, I have to go to the toilet,” you splutter quickly, almost tripping over yourself on the way to the restroom. You dimly wonder if Jungkook is going to think you’re leaving to throw up, but you can’t find any self-respect left to care. All you need is air and space to breathe—preferably away from him.

You slam open the stall, hardly checking to see if anyone else is around before locking the door shut. You sit on the toilet, plant your face between your knees, and scream.

Should you go home and use sickness as an excuse? But even if you did, you still had shifts every weeknight. You would have to see him eventually. You can pray all you want that Jungkook will be fired by the end of the week, but even your delusional mind can never fathom the idea that anyone would willingly want to send Jeon Jungkook away. Plus, you remember that the regular band that plays at the restaurant has been wanting to get a singer to accompany them for ages, and you know just how damn affable he can be. They are going to love him, and you hate him for that.

It is clear to you that there is no other option:

You pull out your phone to quickly open up Indeed on your browser, frantically hunting for any openings that might fit your measly qualifications. However, you have to pause in your search to deliberate. Wouldn’t it be better to move out of the country? You had been so naive to think that moving cities was enough distance between you and Jungkook—going across the ocean is the obvious answer. Should you start up your Duolingo lessons again and hope that you can somehow survive in a different continent with only a few dollars to your name?

You shut your phone in despair. Whether or not your plans of escape are feasible or not, in the short term, you are stuck with having to suck it up and just learn to ignore your ex-boyfriend’s presence. Surely you can force out a fake smile or two, especially with how much practice you’ve gotten after working with unbearably entitled customers.

Taking a step outside of the restroom stall, you head to the sink to splash some cold on your face. You stare at the mirror, confronted by a girl who looks two seconds away from having a Netflix Original-esque meltdown. You rake your fingers through your hair, doing your best to look like you aren’t about to rush into incoming traffic. To no one's surprise, it doesn't work.

“Okay, I got this. Just pretend like he’s just some guy, because at the end of the day, he is just some guy,” you mutter to your reflection. She looks back at you unconvinced. “He may have broken my heart into little bite size pieces, but who cares! HE’S JUST A GUY!” You repeat the phrase over and over again like a lunatic, in a desperate attempt to cognitively alter your brain chemistry.

At that moment, one of the other stalls in the restroom creaks open, and a girl you recognize who works as one of the dishwashers walks out. You both have a silent eye conversation as she quietly studies your crazed expression and crumpled work uniform.

Eventually, she awkwardly clears her throat, pointing to the only sink in the restroom. “Uh, sorry to hear about your, uh, guy problem. Could I use the sink please?”

You hastily back away, allowing her to take your spot. You don’t even have the energy to apologize for your spectacle, just bowing sheepishly to her before making your way back to the main hall. If she rats you out to the rest of your coworkers, then that gives you another reason to move out of the country. Maybe you should consider a name change while you’re at it.

When you exit the restroom, you half expect Jungkook to be waiting for you by the door, but find that he isn’t anywhere nearby. He isn’t by your hostess station either, and you thank your lucky stars for once. Even if your manager had asked you to show him around, you’re sure that Jungkook can find his way around just fine. Plus, the stage is at the corner of the restaurant and is sufficiently far enough that you wouldn’t have to make eye contact with him if you were careful.

You don’t know which greater entity has been messing with your sanity these past few days, but you hope that they can show you mercy just once—a brief reprieve, if anything.

You clasp your hands in prayer. I’ll eat more vegetables, I’ll remember to floss, I’ll call my parents from time to time… Just please let me survive tonight.

“Remember, Y/N… He’s just some guy,” you reiterate through gritted teeth. If a passing coworker happens to overhear your demented chanting, then you pay them no mind.

You walk towards the entrance, flipping the sign to open. You feel like a video game character when you glance at the clock, which signals the start of your shift. You can imagine the red bold text hovering above your head: 8 more hours until freedom.

This is just like playing Five Nights at Freddy’s, except you’ve only watched the movie and you suspect your life is probably worse than whatever Josh Hutcherson had to survive through.

You take a couple heaving breaths to brace yourself for what will be the longest eight hours of your life. You’ll show Jungkook just how well-adjusted and mature you’ve become. You are a professional, and not even a boy with angelic vocals will make you crumble. After all, what’s the worst he can do?

xxx

He could, in fact, do a lot worse than you thought.

“I have many regrets being born at all,” you mutter bleakly, three hours into your shift.

Jungkook had started singing only an hour ago, so you had been filled with false confidence at first when the restaurant was filled with nothing but ambient chatter and soothing jazz music. You felt more and more confident as the minutes ticked by and your anxiety slowly melted away. You even forgot that he was somewhere in the back, likely warming up or whatever it is that singers did before a performance.

However, your brief moment of courage shatters almost immediately when Jungkook finally takes the stage.

At first, you did your best to tune out his voice, but it’s especially hard when whoever was in charge of the sound system decided to crank his volume to an excruciating level. You wanted desperately to grab some napkins and shove them in your ears, but you suspected that your customers (and manager) would be unappreciative of that gesture. And so there you lay, forced to wallow in Jungkook’s melodious singing like a criminal strapped to an electric chair.

But how much more pleasant an electric chair would be! Why on earth was Jungkook so adamant to sing sad love songs the entire time? Why couldn’t he be like his other singing contemporaries, who loved to write songs about getting bitches and making money? At the very least, even if he wasn’t quite a platinum selling artist just yet, surely he was constantly sharing beds with anyone he pleases? Couldn’t he sing about that?!

(In the back of your mind, you wonder if it would be less painful to learn that Jungkook has slept with multiple people… Because then, it would mean that he had moved on while you stood alone on your island, stranded and yearning.)

You didn’t want to think too deeply about his lyrics. However, you're only human. So when your mind barrier failed and you caught snippets of his singing, you noticed a pattern. There was always a girl in his songs. She was omnipresent, and Jungkook was always pleading for her. Begging and aching and wanting. But most all… he was always repenting. In every song, he always whispered a pious apology.

You feared what would happen if you turned around in those moments of weakness. You were terrified of admitting something, of letting words spill that had been trapped in your throat for the better part of two years.

Lucky for you, salvation comes in the form of one Park Jimin. Though, can you even count him as your savior when he had also inadvertently caused your demise?

Jimin doesn’t even have a shift today, so you’re more than surprised when his bright blonde head stumbles through the restaurant doors. His expensive coat is askew and his signature designer shades are nowhere to be found. He is panic incarnate—an expression you have never seen on his face before.

“Holy fuck,” he greets, his chest heaving as he struggles to catch his breath. His profanity startles the elderly couple waiting to be seated, their glares menacingly sharp. To his credit, Jimin doesn’t even seem phased.

In lieu of an answer, you gesture vaguely behind you. You can imagine how dejected you must look. “Holy fuck indeed,” you sigh.

It takes a moment for Jimin to regain his bearings. He straightens up and pats down his coat, but his hair is still tousled by the wind. If not for the fact that he has a car, you might have thought he had run all the way here.

“I am so sorry. I didn’t know this was going to happen,” he starts, genuinely remorseful. “I texted Manager Jeong this morning and he said he’d get your ex to leave, but I didn’t think he’d offer the damn bastard a job!”

“Mind your language, Park. I’m still at work,” you scold. You try your best to ignore the scrutinizing gaze of the elderly couple. You lower your voice. “And don’t apologize. I know you’re an asshole, but I doubt you’d actually prey on my downfall like this. I know you’re not into public humiliation.”

Jimin brightens slightly at your joke, but he still looks like a guilty puppy who'd been caught shitting on the carpet. “Yeah, well. I happen to enjoy tormenting you and I won’t let some upstart Charlie Puth wannabe ruin your life. That’s my job.”

You smile wryly at him. “Well, that’s too bad. Jungkook’s been singing for a few hours now and I’m pretty sure Manager Jeong is going to keep him long-term. He might have broken my heart, but damn does he have vocals. I'm sure you'll have plenty competition when it comes to 'who can make Y/N's life feel like hell.'”

Jimin doesn't smile back, but instead studies your face for a moment. Then:

“Do you think if I offer to suck Manager Jeong off, he’ll fire him?”

“What the fuck?” You nearly yell out in surprise, your jaw dropping to the floor. Judging by his serious scowl, you know he's actually considering it. By now, the elderly couple waiting to be seated have left the premises.

Jimin continues, unperturbed. “I know he secretly wants me, based on how his wife seems to have a personal vendetta against me. He definitely wants a taste of my bus—.”

“Stop, I get it!” You wave your hands to make him shut up, heat rising up your cheeks. “Never say that string of words to me ever again. You have just inflicted ten years of suffering onto my poor brain.”

“Hey, I’m just offering solutions here!” Jimin pouts.

You stare at him, unimpressed. “Save it. You tried solving my problems already, so let’s just accept the fact that there’s nothing else for me to do but to suck it up. It’s time for me to put on my big girl pants for a change.”

“I mean, I could do all the sucking instead, but you’re being a little bitch about it,” Jimin mumbles. He’s lucky you didn’t hear him this time, lest you give him something to really whine about.

“Anyway, I guess this is my life now. Nothing to do except hope that he never tries to interact with me or I can find another job,” you shrug.

Over your shoulder, Jimin fixes Jungkook with an icy glare that is cold enough to give you the shivers. For the first time that entire night, you hazard a glance back at the stage, finding that Jungkook is already looking back at you.

You whip your head back forward, perspiration forming down your back. For fuck’s sake, this guy.

“Well, let me know if he tries anything. I’ll beat that little freak into the floor if he tries so much as breathing the same air as you.” Jimin huffs, puffing up his chest with false bravado. You can’t help but laugh at his empty threat, knowing that Jungkook could probably bench press Jimin without breaking a sweat. Jimin's muscles are only for aesthetics, after all.

“Don’t worry, he hasn’t actually spoken to me actually. He can keep singing his sad little love songs, I really don’t mind,” you say, like a liar. Jimin snorts, wholly unconvinced.

“Well, if you need me, I’m heading to the bar to grab a drink so I can stare at your ex uncomfortably until he leaves. See you!” Jimin bids you farewell with a cheery grin as he skips a little too happily inside the restaurant.

Why'd you have to befriend the largest lunatic in the city? You massage your forehead with a groan, willing away your growing headache.

The rest of the night trickles away like molasses. Jungkook continues to sing his heart out, save for an hour intermission where he presumably takes a short break. In his absence, you hear Jimin guffaw loudly, his laughter too sharp to be considered happy. You faintly hear Jungkook shy stutters in response, and you momentarily consider running in to interrupt.

Why? Did you want to save Jungkook from Jimin’s unnecessary harassment? It’s not like Jimin is doing it out nowhere, he was just trying to be… a good friend?

You pause to ponder. As much as you hate to admit it, you know why you want to help Jungkook. But Jimin on the other hand? Why did he want to help you? Questions begin flowing through your head like a whirlwind, and your nausea increases. God, when was your next therapy appointment again?

You save those questions for another day. As you look at your watch, there are only thirty minutes left until two in the morning. You tap your foot impatiently, smiling curtly at departing customers as the restaurant slowly emptied. As they left, you overhear some of your regulars giggling amongst themselves, whispering about the cute new singer and his charming demeanor.

The last nail on your coffin has been hammered. Yeah, Jungkook isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

With the restaurant closing soon, it sounds like Jungkook is ready to end his set as well.

Throughout the night, Jungkook rarely made a point to speak. The only time he didn’t sing was when he quietly introduced the title of his next song and the band swiftly began the first opening notes. For his last song, however, Jungkook decided to give a little more backstory for his final song.

“Hello, everyone. Thank you so much for listening to me for the night,” Jungkook says with a soft voice, his tone awfully shy despite his powerful belting throughout the evening. The few customers left give him a warm round of applause, and you hear the familiar sound of his timid giggles spill from the restaurant speakers.

“This will be my final song for the night. Most of the songs I sang today were covers, but this one is an original. I…” He hesitates for a moment, and something pulls you to turn despite the alarm bells ringing in your ears. You face him, and just like earlier in the evening, he is already looking back at you.

This time, you don’t look away; he does. His eyes flit to the ceiling, and he licks his lips from nerves. “I… I wrote this song a long while ago. I’ve never sang it in public before and I never thought it would ever see the light of day. Until, well…”

He stops again. This time, he gestures to the guitarist in the band, silently asking to borrow it. With a guitar in hand, he smiles a little more confidently at the small crowd of people. He begins strumming the first few notes, and your heart stops. “I hope everyone had a pleasant evening. Get home safe and have a great rest of your week. My name is Jungkook, and this last song is called…”

Before he can sing the first line of his song, you make a break for it.

You slam the restaurant doors open, and the stinging cold air immediately pierces their fangs into your skin. Your coat is still inside, but you can’t bring yourself to reenter. You take a long breath, the chill barely registering in your mind with how loudly your heart is pounding in your ears.

Hearing the opening to that song was enough to bring you back in time, three years ago:

You are in his childhood bedroom, his walls littered with concert posters and his floor a mess with unfolded laundry and guitar picks. The afternoon sun is streaming through his windows, bathing him in gold. You have an exam the next day and he has cram school to go to, but you’ve both chucked your books somewhere on his desk, left forgotten.

He has his eyes closed, concentrated. You’re both on his small twin bed, squished together side by side and thighs touching. You have your head on his shoulder and he has his hands on his guitar. He strums a few chords experimentally and sings a melody that only the two of you know.

(Not anymore.)

“Are you writing a new song?” you ask, voice a little scratchy. Neither of you had spoken for the past few hours, just basking in the setting sun and Jungkook’s indistinct strumming. But now, his chords sound more sure, more certain of something.

“Yeah, I just thought of it,” he hums. He opens his eyes a smidge, a smitten smile on his lips. You mirror him.

“What’s it about this time?”

His brows furrow. “I’ve been trying to write about other stuff, you know? Namjoon-hyung tells me it’s important that songs have meaning and impact.” He pauses in his strumming, looking a little conflicted. “And I get what he means. Art is all about saying something, but… I can’t help that there’s only one thing I ever want to talk about. Is that so wrong?”

You chuckle, understanding what he means. You nudge your head against his cheek, grinning from ear to ear. The fluttering in your chest has become routine to you at this point, but he somehow always knows how to increase it tenfold. “God, you’re such a sweet talker. Really, Koo. There’s no need to serenade with love songs—I’m already yours.”

He looks back at you, brimming with tender affection. “I know,” he responds. Then, he takes a pen from his bedside table, and begins writing.

During those years of dating him, you always thought that If he was a waterfall, then you were a teaspoon. You desperately tried to be enough for him, but you’re barely able to fathom the depth of his devotion. Everything about him was excessive, and you could seldom understand how he managed to contain himself. He was born to share himself, to tear bits of his soul so that the world may understand him, love him. His songs were a testament that he was trying to do that, and you always felt so lucky to be able to receive him, wholly and fully.

How cruel was it that Jungkook uses that same song to rip open the barely healed scab on your heart, leaving you bare and stinging and raw all over again.

You have no idea how long you've stood there in the cold. It must have been barely a few minutes when Jimin finds his way to you. He wordlessly shrugs his coat off and places it on your shoulders, but you make no move to acknowledge him.

You hope your silence is enough for Jimin to infer that you are not in a conversational mood, but he’s nothing if not impatient. He forcibly pulls you to face him, his hands warm even through your clothing.

“Hey, you good? Did something happen?” He asks with barely concealed irritation, but it’s not directed at you. Still, you flinch at his scathing tone, shrinking in on yourself. In your daze, you vaguely notice his resemblance to an angry baby chick.

“It’s nothing. Go back inside, I’ll be right there,” you mumble lamely, weakly pushing him back towards the restaurant. Jimin does not budge, instead leveling you with a hard stare. This time, you’re sure his irritation is for you.

“You idiot, you literally ran out like someone was out to get you. Of course it’s not nothing,” he grouses.

You sigh tiredly, shaking your head at him. “We can talk later. It’s almost closing time and I just want to go home and sleep.”

Before Jimin can argue further, the door to the restaurant opens once more, but it isn’t a leaving customer.

“What the fuck? What are you doing out here?” Jimin all but shouts at Jungkook. He holds up an accusatory finger at him and uses his other hand to nudge you behind him as if to shield you.

Jungkook winces, instinctively stepping back. Despite being a few inches taller than Jimin, Jungkook’s timidness makes him look smaller. “I… I was just worried about her—”

“Don’t you have a song to finish in there? Talk about professional,” Jimin spits out. Jimin maneuvers you so that Jungkook can’t see you, but you manage to catch sight of how his gaze follows you unfailingly.

“I finished up my set. It’s closing time.” Jungkook responds coolly. He’s still a little quiet, but you can sense some of his natural composure rising to the surface. When he needs to be, Jungkook has been known to stand his ground—usually when it comes to matters involving you.

At this time of the night and after hours of mental torture, the last thing you need is to watch your two worst nightmares duke it out in front of your work establishment. You are beyond exhausted, and you hardly have the fortitude to withstand another minute of their voices ringing in your ears.

Your eyes well up with tears of frustration, causing the two boys to freeze up in panic. You don’t give them the chance to fuss over you; instead, you haphazardly wipe your cheeks before roughly pushing them back towards the restaurant.

“Get back to work, you idiots.” Your voice sounds warbled even to your own ears, but you push past your overwhelming emotions in favor of getting back inside to close up. Hell, you might even call in sick tomorrow, just so you can cry pathetically into your bowl of cereal in solitude.

“I’m not even on the clock today!” Jimin complains faintly, but you only push him harder.

When you all reenter, you walk back to your desk and pointedly ignore the two of them until they awkwardly float away from your orbit. Despite the distance they give you, their gazes are still fixed plainly on you and they feel like knives digging into your back.

Eventually, all the final customers of the day take their leave, and your remaining coworkers start dimming the lights and bidding their goodbyes. From the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook bowing respectfully to the band, who were giving him friendly pats on the back for a job well done. Jimin walks toward you, his car keys dangling from his left pinky.

“No thanks. I’ll take the bus home today,” you declare before he can offer a ride. Jimin opens his mouth like a goldfish, flapping his lips dumbly as he stares at you in shock. You have no idea why he’s so surprised, given how you’ve been making it obvious that you need some space.

He looks like he wants to argue again, but thinks better of it. A singular moment of restraint from Park Jimin, which is an act you once thought impossible. Maybe he does care about you more than you thought.

He stiffly nods at you, shoving his hands and keys into his pockets. He still has a frown on his face when he tells you to text him when you get home. You flip him off with a shaky smirk in response, a feeble attempt to bring some levity back to your now tense relationship. It works a little, and Jimin brightens up significantly. How simple-minded of him.

With a flippant wave, you leave work and head towards your bus stop. At this hour of the night, the streets are mostly dim, save for some street lamps and bars that stay open longer than your restaurant. There are always some people milling about, enough that you never feel too on edge about how late it is. Still, your bus stop is often empty, leaving you to mull over your thoughts in peace.

You are in the midst of jamming your earbuds into your ear when a presence makes itself known beside you.

Is it possible to go through the five stages of grief in under a second? You suppose not, but it’s hard to tell what sort of emotions swim through you when you come face to face with Jeon Jungkook again.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you mutter under your breath. You pause the song playing on your phone to glare at him with as much venom as you can muster.

Jungkook holds up his hands in surrender, doe eyes wide like prey. “I-I’m heading home too! I’m not following you, I swear!”

You groan internally. Figures that you and Jungkook take the same bus home. But hold on— “Don’t you have a car? I remember you were parked near the restaurant the other night,” you note, squinting at him.

Jungkook looks sheepish as he rubs the back of his neck. “Oh, yeah. That car was my hyung’s. He lets me borrow it sometimes, but he needed it tonight.”

“Sure…” You level him with a skeptical frown. You remember his hyung, but don’t recall him ever owning a car. You aren’t even sure that his Namjoon-hyung is allowed by the country to drive a car, much less own one.

He could be lying, but you don’t want to give him an excuse to continue any conversation. So, you busy yourself with your phone and keep your head bowed away from him.

When the bus arrives, Jungkook makes it a point to sit a few rows behind you. Thankfully, he has a better understanding of social cues than a certain Park that you know. He leaves you alone, but your entire body still feels like a rope pulled taut. You have to convince yourself not to look behind you, your morbid curiosity scratching your insides raw.

You are in the home stretch now, and it’ll only be a few more minutes before you get to your stop and make your way to your safe haven. Hell resumes the next day and the next, but at the very least you’ll have your home to yourself. No one could take that away from you.

Again, this is where you learn that tempting fate is never a good idea.

When you exit the bus at your stop, you can hear his footsteps following you. It’s hard not to notice, especially when his large and distracting boots make such a distinct racket that makes him so Jungkook.

You hasten your pace towards your apartment complex, your shoulders hunched and hands shoved into your coat pockets in an attempt to hinder the bile rising from your stomach. He had promised that he wasn’t following you, but that proclamation seems to be standing on feeble legs with how long he’s been on your tail now.

Your street is filled with rows of low-rise apartment buildings, so you hope that if anything happens, you can yell as loud as you can and alert some compassionate neighbor to come to your aid. (Not that you think he would ever physically harm you, but… You can’t say the same about your mental state.)

Your home is just two buildings away from where you are, but Jungkook still seems determined to follow you to the end. You all but skip the remaining feet to your apartment entrance, your breath coming out in puffs as you finally muster up the courage to face your supposed stalker and give him a piece of your mind.

“If this is some convoluted way for you to find out where I live, then you aren’t being very subtle about it,” you say, your chin held up high despite the growing urge to vomit pathetically in front of your ex-boyfriend. You have your hand rested on the doorknob, just a moment’s notice away from bolting into your house if the need for a quick getaway arises.

To your surprise, Jungkook wasn’t following you as closely as you expected. He had stopped trailing you about two buildings down, his own hand poised on the door with a look of genuine shock.

You both stand there, staring at each other as mutual understanding dawns on the two of you.

Everyday, the universe learns of more creative ways to be cruel.

“Oh…” Jungkook’s voice falters. He looks simultaneously frightened and amazed, as if he too finds this entire situation unbelievably harsh. He swallows thickly, looking at you and back to his door in quick succession. “Well… This is a strange coincidence,” he murmurs.

You want to believe that this was his entire fault, that Jungkook had somehow managed to track you down to haunt you for the rest of your days. You want to believe that he’s a crazed stalker who is willing to find where you work and live so that every hour of your wretched life is filled with nothing but reminders of what-could-have-beens. You just want someone to blame instead of just the cosmos—you want someone tangible to hate so that your suffering can be given some sort of identity. You want to give your mourning and hurt a name so that you can learn how to heal.

You want to believe all of that, but it’s hard to do so when Jungkook looks so incredibly uncomfortable, as if he’d rather melt into the shadows and never be seen again.

In all your memories, you have never seen Jungkook look so small.

You heave a big sigh, your fingers grasping the door knob so tightly that you half-expect it to be dented from the force. You linger for a moment, your mouth opening but nothing spills out.

What is there to say? What do you say to an ex-boyfriend that you haven’t seen in two years, who is suddenly so deeply entwined in your life once more? Do you tell him goodnight? Tell him to stay away? Tell him to come home with you?

Jungkook looks equally as conflicted. His lips are pursed tight with words left unsaid. You aren’t sure whether you want to punch the confession out of his mouth or seal them up forever. It feels like eons before he finally breaks the silence with a mirthless laugh.

“I… I just wanted to say—back at the restaurant. When I sang that last song,” Jungkook begins, and his voice feels loud because of how empty the streets are. For a moment, you are reminded of a cathedral you once visited during a vacation, how sacred silence can be. The world holds its breath, waiting for him to speak.

“I meant it all. Every word. Every lyric. I never stopped…”

He trails off, shrugging his shoulders. He stares at you helplessly, but you don’t know what to say. You don’t want to listen any more, but your feet are planted to the ground. You’re frozen like a deer in headlights, forced to brace against him as he crashes into you.

He continues, “And when we broke up back then… I never wanted that to happen. You broke it off before we could even try something—and I hated how I didn’t fight for you harder. I let you misunderstand me because I was afraid you wouldn’t want to stick around if I didn’t succeed. I convinced myself that I was holding you down, but I never gave you—us—a chance. I never stopped regretting it since.”

“Me? Break up with you?” You echo incredulously. That statement is enough to break you from your trance, the telltale signs of indignation rising up your chest. “How dare you suggest—Me? You were the one who broke up with me, asshole! You were the one who broke my heart and decided to up and leave to god knows where! Only to miraculously respawn right next to me, groveling at my feet with sad love songs as if that’s enough for me to forgive and forget? Fucking entitled bastard,” you seethe.

Somehow, Jungkook manages to shrink more, like a bunny with his tail tucked between his legs. “Yes, you’re right that I broke your heart but… When I told you I was moving away to try and become a singer, it was always with the intention of staying together. I know it would have been difficult, but I wanted you to be with me through thick and thin. But when you misunderstood and took it as a break up, I let you go because, well… I was scared that it would happen eventually. Who wants to date a broke busking fool anyway?”

He laughs, but it sounds watery. He sniffles, and you hope it's only because of the cold. “I tried looking for you, but you blocked me everywhere and no one from back home seemed to know where you went. So I just accepted that we’d never see each other again… Until a few days ago, that is.”

A misunderstanding? Is that what everything boils down to? Years of trying to build yourself back up again, relearning what it means to be happy—all the fallen domino pieces in your life trailing back to a single moment in time? All because Jungkook was scared that you didn't love him enough?

You’ve never felt angrier in your life. You fear what you might say if you continue to stand outside there, face to face with the singular person strong enough to whittle you down to the bone. Jeon Jungkook is all soft smiles and sweet songs, but how come he’s always able to knock you off your axis? Few people on this earth can stitch you up and break you down in equal measure, but somehow, Jungkook manages to do all that and more.

Then, comes the guilt. Had it been all your fault? That you hadn't returned his love in equal measure? Had you secretly given up on the hope of being on his level? Always looking down on yourself: unable to move past your insecurities. Were you terrified of being his side piece, his girlfriend, forever?

Who are you, even? And where do you stand?

(Beside him, is what you want to answer. You don't know if that's the right choice.)

You can’t bear to look at him, least of all answer him. Without another word, you shove your house key into the door before slamming it shut despite the late hour. If you awaken any neighbors, you’ll apologize later. For now, all you require is sleep and hope that this has been all a terrible nightmare.

xxx

Reality is a bitter pill to swallow.

Jeon Jungkook continues to sing at the restaurant, and after only two days of repeat stellar performances, your manager decides to promote him as the official vocalist for the band. It hurts to admit that you're not the least bit surprised; you might have a hard time looking at him, but you can never deny his talent.

His song list has added a larger variety of genres ever since his first performance. That is to say, he isn’t always singing about lost loves and tragic couples every night. Perhaps it is due to some requests from customers or his other bandmates, but it doesn’t stop him from sprinkling one or two love songs into the mix.

He doesn’t sing any original songs ever again. That, at least, is a small mercy. He doesn’t make any moves to speak with you either, despite the daily awkward trips back home after the end of your shifts. Whether that’s because he’s given up on you (again), or he’s waiting for you to make the first move, you don’t know. Frankly, you don’t think you have the energy (nor courage) to do anything about it.

It’s a few weeks after Jungkook’s first performance at the restaurant, and closing time is approaching. You appreciate Friday nights the most because it means you’ll have two consecutive days to relax and avoid your problems. It’s also the busiest night of the week, when white-collar workers decide to drink and eat for as long as the night allows them. Busier nights mean more distractions, and you’re willing to deal with twenty Karens over one Jungkook.

During nights like these, your manager occasionally asks you to fulfill some waitress duties when there aren’t enough hands on deck. Normally you’d hate it, but earning the extra tips is enough to keep your grumbling to a minimum To this day, your landlord has yet to do anything about your broken shower, and you’ve finally conceded to the fact that you’ll have to be the one to do something about it.

As you inform the customers in your area that the last call for orders is approaching, you sneak a glance at the bar to see Jimin dutifully performing his job. That is to say, he’s flirting up a storm, getting women and men alike to blush from head to toe as he serves their drinks with a salacious smirk.

What a swindler, you think to yourself, snorting when he makes eye contact with you. He gives you a cheeky salute, mouthing something as he gestures to the back door.

Despite the semi-fight the two of you had all those weeks ago, Jimin was never one to argue about the same topic two days in a row. When you saw him the next day after your confrontation with Jungkook, Jimin was back to all smiles. You still catch him sending death glares towards Jungkook on most nights, but he doesn’t bring up the matter with you anymore. For that reason, you’ve gratefully settled back into your weird, banterful friendship with him. Even if there’s still a lingering tension between the two of you that you refuse to acknowledge.

You nod thankfully back at him, excited to go to his house and take a much needed shower. At this point, going to his house has become second nature to you, and it gives you an excuse to not see Jungkook at your regular bus stop every day. You have half a mind to never fix your shower for that reason, but of course there is still the problem of having to deal with Jimin every time you need to bathe. You hardly consider yourself an impatient person, but Jimin likes to toe the line far more often than necessary.

You’re down to your last two tables before you can close up shop when your manager suddenly barrels right into your path. You nearly drop your tray of dirty dishes to the floor, holding in a loud yelp as your suspiciously stern-faced manager halts you in place.

“Ms. Y/N, may I have a word with you for a moment? It’s regarding your paycheck for the month,” he barks, lips downturned. He appears disgruntled about something, and it sends a worried shiver down your spine. And here you thought Fridays are meant to be fun. He doesn’t wait for you to reply before he stalks back to his office, an unspoken command for you to follow.

You unload your dishes in the kitchen before making your way to his office. The small, dark room is cramped with overflowing file folders and coupons from multiple take-out places. You accidentally step on a stack of papers, and upon further inspection, seem to be a pile of applications for new hires. You distinctly remember complaining to him months prior about being understaffed and him replying that no inquiries were coming in.

As you approach, your manager shuffles through your coworkers pay stubs, and you notice yours and Jungkook’s on top of the piles.

Manager Jeong clears his throat. “Well, Y/N. It seems to be your lucky day. As you know, we split the tips based on your hours and what sort of duties you fulfill. With the new hire we have as our in-house singer, we’ve had to split it one way more to accommodate his arrival. However, he has recently requested to me that his portion be reallocated… to you, Ms. Y/N.”

Your jaw drops immediately. “I-I don’t understand, Manager Jeong,” you sputter.

Manager Jeong snorts, bemused by your reaction. “Don’t understand? Well, I suppose you’ll have to ask Mr. Jeon if you want his reasoning. Regardless, since we normally deposit your salary straight to your bank account, would it be alright if I hand you his tips in cash for now? He only informed me about his request an hour ago, and the accountant has already clocked out for the week.”

All you can do is nod dumbly back at him. With a huff, your manager presses a white envelope into your hands before promptly ushering you out of his office. “Well, that's settled. Out you go! Have a good weekend, Ms. Y/N. Don’t forget to lock the register before you leave!” He calls out before slamming his door in your face.

It takes you a moment to reanimate back to life. You stare at the white envelope for a long while, unable to fathom the scribbled out name of Jeon Jungkook replaced with your own name. Then, you crumple it into your fist before stomping over to where Jungkook and the rest of the band are in the middle of packing it up for the night.

Jungkook looks up from his guitar case when he senses you fast approaching. For a fleeting second, a smile graces his handsome face before it’s smacked away by your crumpled envelope.

“Keep your fucking cash, Jungkook. What the hell is your problem?” You fume, cheeks heating from agitation. Jungkook splutters for a moment, prying the envelope away from his face and looking at it in bewilderment. When he sees it clearly, recognition dawns on his face, followed by guilt.

“It’s just… my way of saying sorry, I guess.” He answers you meekly, neck flushing red in embarrassment. Behind him, the rest of the band grow silent at the scene before them, and you debate on telling them to mind their own business when they quicken their pace to leave.

“Well, keep your apology to yourself. There’s nothing to apologize for,” you correct him with a frown. To offer an apology is to offer accountability. You aren’t sure if you’re ready to hear him say that.

“No, it’s a sorry for… using you, I suppose.”

“Using me?” You repeat, dumbfounded. “For what?”

Jungkook smiles wryly back at you. “For inspiration?” he clarifies. For being the reason I can sing? He leaves that part unsaid, but you can almost imagine him saying it.

You feel heat rising to your cheeks again, but this time you aren’t quite sure if it’s from embarrassment, anger… or something else.

Unable to conjure up a response to his simple confession, you stomp away from him with a pounding heart and shaking hands. You continue the rest of your closing shift routine instinctually, your body moving on autopilot as Jungkook’s words continue to ring inside your head. When all is said and done, Jimin makes his way to your station with a questioning stare, but you wave him off in favor of stomping ahead of him to the parking lot.

In his car, Jimin rattles off about his latest exploits and purchases, his grating voice a comfort for once. You hum noncommittally during his stories when appropriate, but you suppose your usual indifference feels different, even to Jimin's untrained ears.

At his house, you drift to his bathroom immediately. You already have a shirt button undone by the time you get a handle on the door when Jimin’s hand stops you in place. You can feel his warmth emanating against your back as he slowly pulls the bathroom door close. With a tired sigh, you reluctantly turn to face him and find him standing closer than you expected.

He has an arm resting above your head, effectively caging you. You feel your shoulders sag. Damn, here comes another confrontation. Why can’t everyone just leave you alone?!

“Talk to me,” he says. No, he demands.

You push him away weakly, but he hardly budges. “Nothing to talk about,” you lie. Had you no filter, you’d be word vomiting all over the place ages ago.

Jimin groans, rolling his eyes in exasperation. “Enough with the emotional constipation. I’m here to listen, alright? No teasing or anything, I’m all ears and maybe a shoulder to cry on. Just don’t stain my Chanel top too bad,” he jokes.

You puff out a short breath—a sorry excuse for a laugh. “Don’t you get it? I don’t want to talk about it, and that’s that.”

“It’ll make you feel a lot better, though,” he offers.

You scoff. “What makes you think that? What if I just want to ignore all my problems forever and never grow from it? Is that so bad?”

Jimin pushes himself away from you, raising his hands in mock defeat. “You’re so fucking annoying. Can you stop running away from your problems and talk to me? Hell, talk to Jungkook for all I care! Just stop being a doormat and speak your mind for once in your damn life!”

“What are you, my therapist?” You brush past him, shower all but forgotten. You begin toeing your shoes back on, ready to head home tired and smelly. At the very least, you won’t have to deal with this stupid annoying asshole any longer.

Jimin strides back towards you, but for once he doesn’t do anything to forcibly stop you. Jimin has always been gruff with you, not afraid to push and pull you in any which direction. It’s part of the reason why you can’t take him seriously, even though you’ve recently realized why he was always being such a prick towards you—

“Yeah, I’m not your therapist. But for better or for worse, I’m your friend and I—I fucking care about you, alright? And it sucks seeing that good-for-nothing stick his nose in your business and act like he can do anything without any repercussions.”

Is Jimin being for real right now? “With how often you look at yourself in the mirror, you’d think you’d be better at introspection,” is all you say to that. You shove your feet into your shoes, not caring that you’ve probably put them on wrong. Maybe it’s because it’s Friday and the fatigue from the week has finally settled deep in your bones, but you can’t help but leave one last scathing remark to drive the final nail in the coffin.

“You know, if you were a little nicer to me, maybe I would talk to you. Hell, maybe I’d like you back. But no, just keep being your domineering, asshole self and I’ll keep being the same fucking doormat bitch you know and love,” you spit, turning towards the door and away from his face. You’re not even curious to see how he reacts. “I don’t need protection, alright? When I tell you to stay out of my business, you stay out of it. So don’t try and pretend to be my knight in shining armor.”

There’s an ocean of silence, enough to hear a pin drop. The urge to apologize surges to the surface, but you stamp it down. He’s petty all the time, so now it’s your turn.

Okay, maybe that’s a little too mean on your part, but you’re exhausted. Perhaps it is true when they say you should never act on your anger when it’s past midnight. But can anyone blame you? You’re only a girl, and girls need to snap too.

When he responds, his voice sounds weak. Park Jimin, weak? It's almost unthinkable. "Why don't you trust me?"

Isn't it obvious? you want to say. But some mercy remains within you. You'll pick up the pieces another time. Instead, you rasp out, “Good night, Park. I’ll see you on Monday.”

The walk of shame back to your house is long and arduous. Your phone dings thrice, likely signaling texts from Jimin, but you turn it off without checking for sure. For once, the weight on your shoulders is slightly lighter. You huff out a dry laugh, realizing belatedly that maybe Jimin is right—maybe speaking your mind has its benefits.

There’s a small park in your neighborhood that you always pass by. You don’t remember the last time you spared it a second glance, but this time you notice a lone figure swinging back and forth, arching dangerously higher than what you would consider safe. From a distance, all you can make out are the person’s comically bright boots, and you have a sinking suspicion you know who it is without seeing their face.

Cosmos, or whoever it is that controls my life, why must you braid our strings of fate so tightly? You ask, but as always, it refuses to reply.

Against your better judgment, your feet bring you closer towards him. He has his back towards you, his feet pumping him higher and higher and you half expect him to swing in a perfect arc like a gymnast on parallel bars. You have to keep your distance a bit, lest you get the wind knocked out of you by his signature stompers.

You clear your throat, and the boy stops mid-swing and nearly catapults himself into the spongey, playground floor. Hunched over and wheezing, Jungkook directs his shocked eyes at you with a comical stare.

You raise a hand in greeting. A peace offering, maybe. “Hello—”

“I swear I’m not stalking you!” Jungkook interrupts as he scrambles to his feet. He bows deeply in remorse, the action so endearingly him. “S-sorry, I’ll make my way home now…”

“I don’t own the park, Jungkook. I was just saying hello…” You snort, wringing your hands uncomfortably. You grind your shoes into the ground, the sound of crunching leaves breaking the still air. “A-and… to say sorry, for earlier.”

“Sorry?” Jungkook repeats, confused. When he realizes what you mean, he waves his hands frantically. “No, no! Don’t be sorry! It was my fault for being so inconsiderate. I understand how you might misconstrue my actions, and I made things more awkward. I’ll consider your feelings more in the future…”

In the future… You cough, unwilling to meet his bright and honest gaze. If you stare too long, you fear you might go blind.

“I come here to the park often, when I feel too cramped inside my apartment,” Jungkook explains, frantic energy radiating off him in waves. He’s gesticulating too much, a clear sign that he’s trying to hide his nerves. You remember how he would do the same thing in high school, whenever he had to present his projects in front of the class.

You hold a hand up, a weak attempt to get him to calm down. “I’m not here to interrogate you. I just wanted to…” What is it that you wanted to do?

The two of you just stand awkwardly like that, similar to a few weeks ago when you discovered you were neighbors. You’re grasping at straws in your head, both conflicted for wanting to tell him something and running away. Even if you were to talk to him, what would you say? There’s a reason you told Jimin you didn’t want to talk—frankly, it’s mostly because you have no idea what to say or feel.

But you do know, the universe responds.

I ask you questions all the time, and this is how you respond?

Either that, or you’re going insane, the universe remarks.

Jungkook pulls out his phone, his fingers fumbling as he unlocks it. He takes a furtive step towards you, but thinks better of it. There’s a few feet of distance between you, but it feels like worlds apart. Close and yet so far. You recall how you’d easily pull him towards you in the past, how being together felt as natural as breathing.

“I know you absolutely hated it the last time I played my original song at the restaurant, so I refrained from performing any ever since that night. But that didn’t stop me from writing them. I was fine with keeping them locked in a vault forever, but…” He hesitates, searching you for any signs of discomfort. When he sees the carefully blank look on your face, he continues with trepidation.

“Can I try a song for you? You don’t have to say yes, and you’re free to tell me to fuck off and I’ll never even look at you ever again. Just…” He flails one last time, a choked sob making its escape from his throat.

Are you hopeless for wanting to say yes? Or were you reverting back to your old self who relied on him and believed in him so heavily? If you wanted him out of your life for good, you would have quit your job at the first sight of him. Maybe you were masochistic. Or maybe were you hopeful for a new start, a chance to rekindle a relationship that you’ve secretly always wanted to repair.

You have so much life ahead of you. Many more mistakes will be made and maybe they’ll haunt you when you’re older. But would it really be such a terrible gamble to take one more chance?

You nod, and seal your fate.

He presses play, and the soft strumming of a guitar fills the empty playground air.

Not for the first time, you wonder how it can be so easy for Jungkook to be so… honest. He spills his heart in every song that he writes, and you know he’s never been a great liar. He can’t help it, being genuine is in his DNA. This crashing waterfall, this boy with overflowing emotions—he sings what he thinks but feels terrified because of it. You might not understand his honesty, but you know that fear. You know it all too well.

He beholds himself to you—raw and unfiltered. A little battered and bruised, but still Jungkook. Behind everything, still the boy you’ve been yearning for.

Maybe this song is what will give you enough confidence to admit everything to him, too. As you stand there, listening to his mellow voice sing confessions to no one but you and the stars, you think you grow a little more courageous that day.

Maybe you won’t be able to tell him tonight. Maybe not tomorrow, nor next week either. But as you gaze back at his hopeful eyes, you know deep in your heart that you’ll find the words you’ve been looking for.

“I’ll keep waiting for you, if you let me.” Jungkook’s voice floats gently to you, and settles in your open palms. This time, you don’t let go

xxx

Months later, Jungkook stops working at the restaurant when an offer from a major record company arrives in his mail. Apparently, a big shot from the local radio station had pitched him to an employee at that company and they were all pleasantly surprised to find a hidden gem at a random bar and restaurant.

In your apartment, you stare outside your window and to where his home is—well, where it was. You wonder if he finished packing his things, ready to make the big move tomorrow. You stand up with a stretch, sparing a glance at your still broken shower. It would be nice to have one more shower at his place… And after that? Maybe you should start looking for a nicer apartment; somewhere far away might be nice.

Your phone rings, and you see his contact photo light up your screen. With a smile, you answer.

“Come over, if you want. I won’t make you,” Jungkook assures you.

You laugh lightly, already halfway out the door.

#bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bts reader insert #bts fanfiction #bts imagines #bts fluff #bts angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bangtan #bts #bts fanfic

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ask-kimerako-therapycarpool · 2 years

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Kimera? you mean that temperamental one-time killer gauntlet kid? OVK? you mean that zalgo-wannabe, pink and only pink, bodyless, all bark no bite, insecure, overcompensating, desperate for attention bully made of intrusive thoughts? the one who couldn't think even up his own name, that OVK? Mental Hologram Stevenzilla-esque, OVK? "insults are my entire personality" OVK?

[KO whines at the anons, tears forming from his once again normal eyes.] Please guys...! I'm not temperamental!! And I thought you forgave me over that one time!! Be mean to him, not me...! [He sniffles.] I said I was sorry, just stop, please.....!!!

[OVK watches KO, who is now crying, and then turns his gaze to the anons.]

Y̵o̷u̸ ̸k̵n̷o̷w̵ ̶I̵ ̵s̵a̴i̷d̶ ̸I̷ ̶a̴l̴o̵n̸e̸ ̸w̷a̶s̶ ̴g̷o̷n̴n̶a̶ ̷t̷o̵r̶t̷u̵r̴e̵ ̴h̸i̴m̴,̴ ̸r̶i̴g̸h̵t̴?̷ ̶I̸ ̸d̴i̴d̷n̷'̷t̷ ̸s̴a̴y̷ ̵I̸ ̶n̷e̶e̶d̶e̷d̶ ̴y̴o̶u̴r̴ ̸h̸e̷l̸p̷ ̸t̷o̴ ̴b̸e̷ ̶a̵s̵ ̴b̷a̵d̷ ̶a̵s̷ ̷m̴e̵ ̷a̶n̴d̷ ̶h̸o̸n̴e̷s̸t̷l̴y̵,̶ ̵y̷o̶u̵'̶r̵e̶ ̸b̵u̴m̸m̵i̶n̸g̵ ̴m̷e̸ ̵o̴u̷t̸.̸

#((bold of you to assume that ovk has no bite))#((which i'll show why in a few asks))#ask-kimerako #ask #anon #kimera ko #ovk {kimera's intrusive thoughts nickname}#kimera intrusive thoughts personified #kimera ko's subconscious #kimera ko au #tales from the multiverse #therapy carpool #therapy carpool canon #aftermath of carl episode event #((making this canon to therapy carpool that kimera believes that the anons hold a grudge on him about the session 56 incident))#angst

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heartludwig · 8 months

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Follow up on my little office au? Anyways this is the aftermath of the “incident”

#fellas is it gay to uhh whatever the hell these two have going on?#prohibitedwish #scarab the god auditor #prismo the wishmaster #adventure time #fionna and cake #scarab #prismo #human au

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aloesarchives · 4 months

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Two for the Price of One (JJK Oneshot)

TW/Warnings: Profanity, NOT POLY SATOSUGU X READER, Fem Reader and She/Her pronouns, ANGST, Angst for Satoru and Reader, Bittersweet ending for Suguru and Reader, HIGHKEY MISCOMMUNICATION, Possible OOC Satoru, abandonment issues if you squint really hard, Reader slowly losing herself, Reader feeling depression/hopeless(implicit), Reader's has a healthy dynamic with her clan

Series: Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Fem!Reader/Suguru Geto x Fem!Reader

AU: Canon

Pronouns: She/Her(Reader's clan has a unrealistic healthy and understanding relationship with her)

Word Count: 6.1k words

Summary: Gojo's lack of coping caused you to drift away and eventually depart after Suguru's defection from Jujutsu Society.

(A/N): I know it doesn't make sense and will make many frustrated with how dumb this is. I just wanted to write my emotions out with this one, okay? I know this wouldn't slide but I'm a sucker for these scenarios. Edit: Since I've been getting positive reactions from you guys, I decided to take out the cringe/unrealistic out of the warning/tws lists. I truly love and appreciate you, loves!❤️

[!!Semi-edited & Proofread!!! 2/8/2024 4:04pm CST]

It was hard on all of you.

More so for you and Satoru.

Ever since Geto’s massacre and defection, the higher-ups and Jujutsu society have been scrambling to get the chaos under control. Having a special grade user become a curse user was sounding red alarms as there was an immediate threat to present-day Jujutsu sorcery.

You knew something was up with Suguru. You did; your observation wouldn’t allow things to go unnoticed. It was a bit here and there, but never a significant concern. You tried coaxing him gradually to open up to you, but your efforts were fruitless. No bells were ringing until the post-Plasma Star Vessel incident. You felt the shift in Suguru’s aura; you noticed his lifeless stare—the growing dark circles around his eyes surrounding the tiny flicker of life left inside.

You tried being there for Suguru. You did anything and everything to accompany him and not leave him alone. It was selfish of you. To be desperate for your best friend to lean on you for support and not to go down a destructive path. You became even more worried when Haibara returned cold with a frustrated and traumatized Nanami. It was becoming more evident of Suguru’s deteriorating condition, you to confide in Shoko and even Yaga-sensei.

Grief is like love, a twisted parasitic curse. Even though a year has passed, your grief was a malevolent spirit that latched itself onto your shoulders with a vice grip. A bitter reminder of how Suguru never said goodbye to you. He technically did with Satoru. But it was more of him telling Satoru that he was severing ties with Jujutsu Society by questioning him with his newfound powers. All you got from Suguru was a simple letter Shoko gave you at your dorm. She was with you as you read it. Tear droplets stained the paper, words smeared, and became unreadable. Out of pure frustration, you ripped the paper in half—the tearing of paper cut through the sickening silence. Shoko hugged you as you sobbed in the aftermath. While you were mourning the loss of your friend and your lives together, you were also mourning your life after this would never be the same. It would only get worse from here.

Satoru is tossed onto multiple missions left and right, never catching a break.

And there was you, trying to return to your regular school life. Or how every day can it be now? One of your best friends just murdered an entire village and his parents, and the other one is overworking himself to the very bone. Shoko being there for you was a surprising one, but at the same time, it wasn’t. Given that she was the first one Suguru said goodbye to, she understood his actions.

The problem was trying to tell Satoru about it, but he would brush it off, saying that maybe it was the change in weather or sickness. When you tried to explain there was more to it, Satoru would wave his hand at you, saying,

“You’re overthinking too much, (Y/N)-chan! I’m sure Suguru is fine. We just have to give him some time.”

Though the tone was light-hearted, it provided no comfort. You know Satoru was suffering as well. Individuals process trauma differently, after all. You were seeing this first hand.

Satoru was overcompensating to the world of Jujutsu with his enlightenment, overworking himself and burying his pain through that charismatic mask he now dons. Suguru is the most common one: Insomnia, isolation, and depression. He slowly became a lifeless husk. On the other hand, you were coping by trying to move forward while acting like a rock for them. Despite the hard transition, you didn’t deny your trauma as you slowly worked to process and navigate through it. You had the support of Shoko, your teacher, and even your clan/family stepped in to support your mental health endeavors. They went as far as providing you with a therapist, who was also a sorcerer.

But you all were suffering in silence.

A year has passed since Suguru left, and you were getting by. You, Shoko, and Satoru would graduate in the third year and officially become Jujutsu Sorcerers. Yet, at this point, it felt more like only you and Shoko. Satoru still attended class and hung out, but missions mainly preoccupied his school life. He recently returned from Hokkaido, only to be sent out again. This time, however, it was somewhere in Western Europe. That’s on the other side of the world. It would only be for a week, but still. You wanted him to rest or take a break, as he never did– not since the incident.

He wouldn’t be leaving for another seven days, so you had enough time to be with him. Yet it was challenging because Satoru didn’t let up. The ravine he created kept opening, the distance stretching far and deep, pushing you away.

Just like Suguru.

You didn’t want to lose Satoru. You almost did, becoming a grim reminder of how much you cared for Satoru Suguru. To fall for your best friend was a betrayal. You didn’t mean it, but Satoru did things that made your heart warm and fluttered. Suguru was the first to catch on; he saw your crush a mile away. Confiding in Suguru about it, you found solace in his words– feeding into an enviable delusion.

Unbeknownst to you, Suguru's eyes were able to hide his longing for you as you rambled about Satoru and your latest hangout together. Suguru always thought you and Satoru had a special connection—your two powerful chemistry and how you bounce off each other. He presumed Satoru had mutual feelings, but nothing was said. Once he left, he knew you had his heart. There was no space for anyone else to fill it but you. And Suguru was more than willing to live with reality. If the girl who gave his life light is with his best friend, so be it. He would settle with the heartache as long as you were happy.

But you weren’t happy at all.

Over time, you started questioning whether the life of a Jujutsu Sorcerer was worth it. Yes, you were born into the world of Jujutsu, and it has been your whole life. But the last two years radically changed that. You were already exposed to this life's dangers and cruelty; prepare to face it head-on no matter what. Yet second thoughts became third thoughts. Then, fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh. The more you challenge your initial mindset, the more doubts seep into its cracks.

Why should I continue when I am nothing more than a placeholder in this world?

How can I save everyone if I can’t save one person?

Where is the meaning in all of this if I’ll just die alone and be replaced and forgotten?

Was this endless cycle of Jujutsu Sorcery even worth it?

You wondered if Suguru shared the same thoughts to push him to his decision. Now, you don’t blame him for leaving at all. It was grime. It was depravity. It was futile. You only stayed because you had your clan. You had Yaga-sensei and Shoko. But most of all, you had Satoru to shoulder the burdens of the Jujutsu world.

That’s. . .what you thought. . .

You decided to go to Satoru’s dorm to check up on him. Maybe squeeze a hangout in there. Gently knocking, you hope he was there since you couldn’t sense him around the campus. There was faint shuffling on the other side, signaling he was. You softly call out to him as you knock again. Once opened, Satoru greeted you in his school uniform. You found it odd since he’d switched to his comfortable clothes after school hours.

“Hi, Toru! I just came by to see how you’re doing. The mochi store we always go to releases its seasonal flavors today! Why don’t you come with me? I heard one of your favorites returned, so I didn’t want you to miss it.”

“I appreciate the thought, (Y/N). But not today, I’m sorry.” Satoru said with a smile.

You couldn’t pinpoint his smile, tittering on, sad and strained. A tinge of uneasiness settled inside your heart, but you still wore your smile to not let it surface.

“C’mon, Toru! You don’t know if they will sell out today. Plus, the weather is great. I heard some festivals with food stands are opening up because of that. It wouldn’t hurt to go out just this once, Satoru.”

Satoru’s smile disappears at your insistence, replacing it with a fine line. His mood change didn’t sit well with you. You had previous attempts to get Satoru to care for himself. However, this is different from all your others because the band that holds your desperation began to wane itself thin. Your solid composure falters in bits. Your bright aura slowly dimmed as your now chapped lips twitched.

“Satoru, I know that you’re busy. Always on missions, meeting the higher-ups, your clan needing you more than ever, you have your hands tied. But it wouldn’t be too much just to enjoy yourself. Just come with me today before you go to Europe next week. It’s been a while since we hung out together.”

“Look (Y/N), I don’t really have time for this. I need to head out now, or it will get dark. Maybe another time–”

Then something inside of you snaps. You didn’t know whether it was your desperation or uneasiness, but assumed both because your facade crumbles to reveal your emotions.

“You always say later, Satoru, but never do! You haven’t taken a break in months! You’ve gotten paler, and your under-eyes are darker than before! You’re pushing yourself too hard and beginning to neglect yourself. Toru, Please! I’m worried about you! You know I can always help you–”

“For the love of God, (Y/N)! Can you STOP TALKING?! GOD, YOUR VOICE MAKES MY EARS BLEED! LIKE HELL YOU WOULD UNDERSTAND MY RESPONSIBILITIES!”

It was never your intention to snap. But the way Satoru was acting paralleled Suguru. Eat, sleep, and go on missions. It was always those three, the same ones Suguru was subjected to that became a factor in his defection. Satoru was caught in the vicious cycle that pushed Suguru over the edge.

On top of your crippling fear of Satoru sharing the same fate as Suguru, Déjà vu struck you. Desperation emerged from within as you didn’t want to lose him, breaking your resolve before him. Desperation was fear in another form.

You weren’t the only one to reach a breaking point. Satoru snapped as well and at you, of all people. You guessed it was from all the stress and emotions he bottled up that exploded there. What Satoru was experiencing was valid and understandable; you knew this. Yet to blow up at you was uncalled for as you made it clear you’re only helping. Your eyes sting as you feel the formation of tears ready themselves, biting the inside of your bottom lip to keep your voice from breaking.

“B-but. . .Satoru. . .I w-was only trying to–” You stuttered out, forcibly pushing out words to fill the silence.

“Help? You were trying to help, (Y/N)?”

Once saying that Satoru let out a sarcastic laughter that could be mistaken for madness. Horror took over your face. Pain-filled eyes were glossed over, showing your tears could spill at any moment. His laughter abruptly stopped, making it so quiet that only your staggered breathing could be heard. He meets his eyes with yours with the most disdain you have ever seen.

“Do you think you could help when you’re just dead weight? You thought you were on par with Suguru and me. Get that out of your stupid little head of yours (Y/N). You were never strong like us.”

“You don’t mean that, right, Satoru?” You said incredulity as you reached out for him. Only for your hand to freeze before him, not going any further. A chill flashed over you, adding to the aching that enveloped your soul.

Did he– Did he just use his infinity on you?

“Oh, but I do. Now, I need to be somewhere. Do yourself a favor, (Y/N), and don’t bother me with your weak presence.”

And before you knew it, Satoru was already gone. He had used his teleportation to get to where he was needed. Leaving you alone with the door to his dorm wide open. The sounds of the crickets took over. They were paired with your small sniffles, furiously wiping away your nonstop tears.

Were you weak to him?

Have you really been holding everyone back?

Were you that much of a nuisance to him?

Is this how Satoru really felt about you?

Has he always felt this way?

You never saw utter detest and contempt from Satoru. Your previous interactions had him irritated or annoyed, but never like this. This was the first time Satoru had blown up on you, let alone given you such a reaction. Before, you’d repeatedly remind him of your support and help. But it always ends the same way, pushing you away. After what happened, this will be the last time you’d do this for him.

You were once told that you can’t help someone if they aren’t reaching out for help. And this was a bitter example of it. Your efforts in having Satoru lean on you bore nothing. What’s the point in continuing this if nothing changes after multiple attempts?

You were tired, drained, and indifferent. Your tears keep falling as you enter your dorm, not even stopping as the sound of nature lulls you to sleep.

You let two days pass to let Satoru calm down and give him space. No interactions or anything to pass some time. You would try to contact him for the next four days after that. But your texts were left unanswered and on read. When you tried calling, your call went straight to voicemail. He blocked your phone number, too.

The weight of your doubts and Satoru’s words the other day are fueling your impulsivity. If Satoru called you weak and dead weight, other sorcerers would think so, too. If you become a thorn in their side, you’re doing them a favor by pulling yourself out for them. Even if Satoru didn’t mean it, you knew there was some truth to it because he kept his infinity up. You could never forget how his blue eyes lit through his pitch-dark glasses as he spoke down at you. Giving away that he was conscious and level-headed when he said those words.

You were losing the war against your intrusive mind. Your doubts and thoughts gradually solidified in your consciousness. In the course of time, they won and consumed your psyche.

If becoming a jujutsu sorcerer would get in the way of others, then being a sorcerer wasn’t for you.

With your last attempts to contact Satoru, you have made your decision. A day before Satoru departs for Europe, you decide to pay your clan head a visit. It was sudden and unannounced; nonetheless, they allowed an audience with you.

They let you speak your mind, allowing whatever you need to be released and run free without judgment. Thus, you confided in them about everything.

This was too much; all of it was too much for you to bear any longer. You couldn’t see yourself as a sorcerer any longer after dealing with what you had experienced. Every day was a battle for you, and you lost every single one. You admitted you didn’t have what’s left of you it in you to shoulder the responsibilities of the Jujutsu world. You didn’t want the life of a jujutsu sorcerer anymore. You wanted one of peace, not having to fight every day. To enjoy the rest of your days as a regular civilian.

Confiding also in missing Suguru dearly and how his departure left a hole in your heart that could never be healed. You weren’t strong enough to face the horrors and hardships anymore and wish to live a peaceful life.

Although your clan head was shocked at your confession, they were understanding and asked if this was something you truly wanted. An unwavering ‘Yes’ left you, and your clan head nodded. They gave you a choice: to go after graduation in a few weeks or leave now. If you leave now, they will deal with the rest as you finish the important schoolwork. It was just a waiting game with missions sprinkled throughout.

You could wait before leaving, but that’s wasting time. If you weren’t going to continue your life here, you might as well get a headstart now in your new one. You finalize your decision with the head. They said they would have some members pick up your stuff from your dorms tomorrow morning, but you said it wouldn’t be much. As you took your leave, you told them you would keep in touch with the clan.

“What are your plans for what happens next, (Y/N)?” They curiously asked with your back facing them.

“Hmm, I don’t know exactly. But I have an idea, (Clan Head’s Name). Thank you for everything that you’ve done.”

With a reassuring voice, you turn to respectfully bow before leaving their room. Though they never said it out loud, they saw how your eyes were soft, like tremendous pressure was relieved from your body.

Thinking about it as you leave the estate, you never mentioned your fight with Satoru. Though it wouldn’t change anything. That night, you packed your dorm in your suitcase. Only leave your bedsheets, a pillow, and a few desk appliances behind. Your closet and drawers were empty of any clothes you had. By 10 a.m. tomorrow, any trace left of you would be gone. As you write a letter to whoever finds it about your whereabouts, your thoughts return to Suguru. To playfully think he did the exact same thing before his defection.

You looked at your school uniform as it hung on your door. You contemplated taking it with you but decided against it. You wanted no strings left attached when you leave the world of Jujutsu Sorcery.

Morning came as you stared at the room you once called your own. The remainder of your things are packed in cardboard boxes for your clan members to get later. You glance back over to your desk as your school uniform is neatly folded on top of it. Your lips are graced with a sentimental smile as you close the door one last time.

As you walked along the campus, fleeting memories of your days here flooded your mind. You reminisced on the areas and places you spent your youth with your friends and classmates. Now you’re leaving Jujutsu Tech and the Jujutsu World forever. Never to come back. You get to the main entrance of the school.

Before taking another step, you sensed someone behind you.

“So you're leaving, too, (Y/N)?”

It was Shoko.

“Yeah. . . Shoko. I’m going. . .”

She blows out a large smoke cloud from her cigarette, giving you a blank look before sending you a smile.

“At least say goodbye to me. . .I don’t blame you for going. . .” Shoko adds as she holds out her arms. You chuckle at her gesture and give her a hug. By the slight firm grip you felt, she didn’t want you to go, but she couldn’t stop you either.

Once you break away from the hug, you remember something and fish out a folded paper in your bag. You handed it to Shoko, and she eyed it curiously.

“I was going to leave it in my dorm for someone to find, but I thought it would work better if I gave this to you if I ran into it on my way out. My clan is sending members to get the last of my things, so I won’t return to my dorm. Sorry I had to make you the messenger again, Shoko.” You bittersweetly said.

You find it ironic that your departure is similar to Suguru’s. Shoko is the first to see you two go while giving her a letter for the others to read. You laugh as you think this over.

Oh, how history repeats itself.

Shoko tucks away your letter before taking a drag from her smoke.

“Does he know about this?”

You knew she was referring to Satoru. You shook your head no, still have a small smile.

“No, unfortunately. Satoru and I got into a arg– disagreement a few days ago. I don’t know if he’s okay with me to begin with, as cowardly to say. The only ones that know are you and my clan head.”

She hums at your response before going for another drag.

“Your phone number still the same?”

“I don’t really plan on changing my phone number. Even if I do, I’ll text you the new number so you can give it to the others.”

“I see. . .See you around, (Y/N). Keep in touch, will ya?”

“I will. I’ll see you around then. Bye, Shoko.”

Giving Shoko one last hug, you wave goodbye as you leave Jujutsu’s High entrance, disappearing from view. Not daring to look back because regret might come if you did.

Shoko watches from afar, her cigarette being halfway done. She takes one last puff before extinguishing it with the bottom of her shoe. She looks at your letter. The paper was crisp with no wrinkles like it had been fresh from the printer. From this, Shoko knew you had written it recently, no hesitation evident on the page itself. Unlike Suguru’s, her fingers tighten on your letter as she sighs while entering the school.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

“What brings you here? He’s a busy man.”

“I’m just an old acquaintance of his. Just a simple chat. It won’t take long, I promise.”

The pretty attendant raises a brow at you as she guides you to one of the rooms. She looks you up and down before facing forward again.

“You have a substantial amount of curse energy. You have a curse technique then; aren’t you a jujutsu sorcerer?”

“I…used to be…but not anymore…I chose to leave that life. I’m just a civilian that has a curse technique.”

You see the attendant smile out of the corner of your eye at your answer.

“I see. Geto-sama will be happy to take audience with you then.”

You shouldn’t be here. You knew that. Walking in taboo territory could get you hunted down by the very society you were born into. It’s not a secret of Suguru’s position as both a curse user and a cult leader. You remember hearing about him reforming a cult that worshiped Tengan but dissolved after the incident. You found it interesting he hasn’t done collateral damage yet. No incidents or missions revolving around curses terrorizing civilians. Perhaps he was going for something on a larger scale, you thought.

But you missed Suguru dearly. Not in a sentimental reminiscing way. More as in yearning for him entirely. Everyone tells you it’s not the same with Suguru gone, obviously. Yeah, but Suguru plagued your mind after his defection. You want nothing more than to see him again. Yes, things couldn’t go back to the way they were. But you didn’t like the prospects of what your future would hold if you stayed.

You disagreed with Suguru ridding the world of non-sorcerers. But you also understand and agree the current Jujutsu system is a dumpster fire that will never work. At the end of the day, only those the higher-ups favor will get to stay while the rest are sent off to die. You didn’t want to take part in that. You valued your life to know it shouldn’t be tossed around so easily by some dementia geezers who can’t even fight. And yet, you felt a tinge of regret for not staying to fix or break the system. Your only option was to leave and not involve yourself anymore.

The attendant takes you to the room, saying he will arrive shortly. Leaving you alone, you felt your heart race. You hope Suguru doesn’t kill you because he can sense your curse energy. Yet his letter was heartfelt and raw. His apology and the paragraphs after them were for you and you alone, like a confession. Even though you ripped the letter, you keep the two halves. Strangely enough, there was an address and a few words at the bottom of the page.

‘You know where to find me.’

Here you are, waiting for him with the same letter he sent. As you wait, you can feel his energy get closer. You stare down, kneeling, the letter shaking like a leaf in your hands.

Then the door opens.

You let out a small gasp, not daring to look up as the footsteps approach his seat. A soft chuckle fills the room as you keep your head low.

“I thought I was mistaken when I felt your curse energy. But I now know my mind wasn’t playing tricks on me. Please, lift your head so I can see you (Y/N).”

Your gaze meets Suguru’s soft eyes and warm smile. Both genuine and kind. His eyes widen before returning back to soft when he sees the tears trickling down for your lovely eyes he could get lost in. You stumble to stand, practically pouncing at Suguru. His embrace was like gates opening for you and closing once you entered. You softly sob into his robes as he holds you tightly. Comforting you by gently rubbing your back and hair, giving a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“I missed you so much, Suguru!” was all you said before you continued to sniffle and hiccup into him.

Suguru hums as he pulls away to better view your face. You felt self-conscious as he lovingly gazed at you. Your nose and cheeks were raw from crying, and your eyes became an irritated red. Suguru smiles, wiping away your endless tears with his thumb.

“Oh, (Y/N). I’m sorry for leaving you behind. You understand, don’t you? From my letter?”

You nodded to respond. Holding the paper in front of Suguru. He notices the tear stains and ink smudges from the words he wrote down.

“I would’ve told you in person, (Y/N). Believe me. But I couldn't once they announced my charges. You would’ve been questioned as a possible accomplice. I didn’t want that for you. Do you know what it means for you to see me now?”

“Yes, I’m aware. But I left of my own accord; it wasn’t just for you, Suguru. I wouldn’t be able to last long if I stayed. So I decided to go, leaving it behind, all of it.”

He was a bit puzzled by what you meant. But it didn’t take long for him to piece it himself. Suguru figured something happened between you and Satoru but decided to stay silent out of respect. You both stare with relief and tenderness. Suguru gingerly takes your hand and places a light kiss on your knuckles. You set your unoccupied hand on his cheek, quietly giggling as Suguru leans into your delicate touch. He sighed in contentment. Bring your hand up again to kiss it as he wraps his free arm around your waist. His sincere smile radiates down onto you.

“I guess we have some catching up to do then, (Y/N).”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Satoru was in a better mood today than before.

Satoru cooled off his head after a couple of days from when he made that outburst at you. He was stressed and tired of being continuously sent out on missions, and you did make a point that he hasn’t taken a break in months. He remembered what he said to you that evening, which made him feel guilty.

He knows he hasn’t been around because the higher-ups have sent him out like a work dog. It was now you and Shoko with him. The stabilization you two had on him once Suguru left.

You’ve been only trying to help him for a long time. Being there for him in your own way while coaxing him to hang out. Yet he took it for granted and said some vile things because his bucket decided to overflow then out of all the times it shouldn’t. You didn’t deserve that. You also didn’t deserve the silent treatment he gave you. He saw your text messages and listened to the voicemails you left. He did not answer because he was too prideful and stubborn to admit he was stressed and hurt you like that.

But sitting with his emotions and reflecting on how stupid he is for prioritizing his ego, he decided to cut down his pride and make it up to you. He unblocked your number and was going to call you. But he chose to just surprise you instead he chickened out. Satoru knew the European mission was a nuisance to his plans, so he had already taken care of it. By that, Satoru somehow teleported himself to where he needed to be in Europe, slayed the high-level curses, retrieved some curse objects, reported what he did, and teleported back to Japan in four hours.

He did all this at the last minute on the sixth day before Satoru was supposed to leave. He did this to stay and spend the whole week with you, make up for lost time, and give a proper apology.

Now, Satoru was strolling through Jujutsu Tech. He whistles as he holds a bouquet of (favorite flowers), a box with a (favorite color) bracelet with (favorite designs/charms), and a bag of mochi and daifuku for you two to share together. He walks around the grounds, trying to search you. He was told no classes today, so he went to your favorite spots. You weren’t anywhere.

‘Huh, that’s strange. (Y/N) would usually be in those places when class is not in session. I wonder where she could be.’

Satoru thought about dropping by your dorm but figured you were with Shoko. On the other hand, he couldn’t sense Shoko around either until Satoru felt it alongside Yaga-sensei. He sensed them in Yaga’s building, so he headed there.

Blissfully unaware of what would await him.

Satoru clutches your gifts to one side as he opens the door to enter. His six eyes hadn’t kicked in yet, but something in the air felt off. His sun smile hasn’t dropped yet as he scans around, wondering why the two were quiet when he entered.

“Yo, Yaga-sensei, Shoko! I’ve been trying to look for you guys. By any chance know where (Y/N) is so I can give these to her?”

He looks at his teacher, and Satoru’s demeanor instantly changes. There, Yaga stood with his glasses off, clutching a piece of paper with a stern frown. Satoru turns to Shoko, a somber expression replacing her lighthearted one. Satoru just looked back and forth between the two before his eyes settled on the paper in his teacher’s hand. Satoru stands stunned, hearing his heartbeat in his ears grow louder and louder. The air from his lungs disappeared as realization dawned on him.

Satoru clenched his teeth as he teleported to your dorm room, the clap resonating throughout the hall. He burst open your dorm door, and to his horror, your room was empty. The room was stripped of everything that made it yours. The closet and drawers were emptied, and your desk and bed were bare of anything from you. What used to be your dorm is now an empty dorm room, ready for the next person to claim it. He frantically looks around in hopes of finding any reminds of you.

Then, he spotted your old Jujutsu High uniform, laying neatly on top of your old desk. Satoru just stares, not daring to pick it up. Because if he did, he would’ve broken down. He can’t stay there anymore, to which he teleports back. He bears his pearly white teeth as he closes in on his teacher.

“Where the hell is (Y/N)?” Satoru lowly said.

“Gone, Satoru–”

“I know she’s gone! But where?! Why the hell is all her stuff gone?! Her room is completely empty!”

“Satoru,” Yaga tried calmly speaking, but he was clearly frustrated. “I know this is so sudden. But the (L/N)’s clan head said something came up with (Y/N), and they retrieved all her things. Her clan said they were going to deal with everything else.”

Satoru's breathing became staggered. He could hear it growing louder. He tried his best not to let his voice crack, but that made him angrier.

“Everything else? The hell does that mean, sensei? Why would the (L/N) clan withdraw (Y/N) from school?! School ends in a few weeks! She could have graduated with us!”

“It…wasn’t their decision, Satoru…It was (Y/N)’s…”

Suddenly, Satoru became flabbergasted. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This gotta be some twisted, cruel joke that was playing on him. His curse energy was flaring up, and his cerulean eyes lit lightly. The flowers from the bouquet were losing their petals, and his bag full of treats was getting smushed from his intense grip.

“What…?”

“The clan head said it themselves.”

“No…”

“She decided not to be a Jujutsu Sorcerer and leave Jujutsu society.”

“LIKE HELL SHE WOULD!!!” Just like that, everything came crashing down for Satoru. Not being in your usual spots on campus, the empty dorm; hell, he noticed your curse residuals becoming faint. The traces of them becoming weaker and weaker. Your presence here in Jujutsu High was fading faster than he could notice. The anger he built up showed itself as it was on full display. Honestly, Yaga and Shoko don’t blame him for his outburst. Satoru held you close, after all.

“Satoru, please.” Yaga pinches the bridge of his nose as he clenches his teeth. “I’m just as lost as you are. This came out of the blue…Her clan confirmed it, and she said it herself.”

Satoru slightly flinches when Yaga holds the paper out towards him. Gesturing for Satoru to take it.

“I didn’t read far into this because it felt like (Y/N) wanted someone else to read it.”

Satoru’s long fingers snatched the paper out of his teacher’s hands. His hands shake as he opens the paper up to see its contents.

It was a letter–from you.

His eyes slowly followed the words of your neatly written goodbye. His heart rips itself piece by piece as he continues reading. The guilt and shaming grew. He could feel the fatigue and jadedness from your thoughts. But the last paragraph makes Satoru’s heart hurt the worst. Your frustration was transformed into desperation for a new life, a fresh start. Away from the endless curses and scrutiny of the higher-ups, away from the pain and hopelessness, away from it all. You didn’t want to throw your life away. You just wanted to live. Then, you end the letter with an apology. Saying sorry because you couldn’t tell them your honest thoughts, for not facing them in your departure, for not trying hard enough for everyone when it was needed. Then, the last line of your apology made Satoru’s blood run cold.

‘Most of all, I’m sorry for being weak.’

He knew that line was for him 100 percent. You wouldn’t have written it down if he didn’t tell you. To Satoru, you weren’t supposed to be the one apologizing. It should be him. He was the one who yelled at you and said those cruel and discouraging things to you. The one who pushed you away and didn’t allow you a chance to help. Fuck, he had the audacity to use his infinity against you. How dare he do that to you, his best friend the girl he fell in love with. His teeth clenched so hard out of pure anger they could crack. The anger he felt for himself was tremendous. He was angry at Suguru, the higher-ups, and Jujutsu Society. Angry at himself for being so stubborn and prideful, for waiting too long to act and apologize. But above all else, he was angry at what had become of the situation. Fully knowing he could do nothing to change anything as already was set in stone.

If he hadn’t been so prideful, he would’ve apologized to you sooner. If he didn’t blow up at you, you wouldn't become broken and hurt. If only he didn’t push you away, maybe you would have stayed– stayed by his side. But ‘if onlys’ are regrets from the past of the current reality. Now, he is living in it with the consequences of his own actions.

This is the price Satoru had to pay. He lost the only remnant that got him through this world by pushing you away. He lost his only two best friends in the world with no way of fixing it.

The price of becoming the strongest came at the expense of two of his most dearest friends.

Suguru was gone.

You were gone.

Forever with no signs of ever coming back to him.

In the end, Satoru Gojo was, truly, alone.

375 notes · View notes

asdfghjklmals · 1 year

Text

TO BE PRESENT✩༶‧˚

GENRE + T/W: sfw, angst. hurt and comfort. WORD COUNT: 4.6k words. TAGS: satoru gojo x fem!oc. boyfriend!gojo. stsg break up.

SYNOPSIS: suguru geto is sentenced to death by the jujutsu society, and oc gojo girlfriend is left to pick up the broken pieces of satoru gojo's heart, but will she be enough? AUTHOR'S NOTE: lots of dialogue from the actual anime/manga. i tried to shorten the dialogue and add lots of emotion and descriptions. in the manga, gojo actually finds megumi and tsumiki after suguru leaves, but in this au, we found the kids first. the vibe is the song ‘no good’ by dvsn. REMINDER: if you want to imagine yourself in oc gojo girlfriend's character descriptions instead, please do!

suguru geto was the balance to satoru gojo. the yin to his yang. they were vital to each other, mutually complementing each other, needing each other to coexist. there was the calm and rational suguru, and there was the bold and rash satoru. their bond so strong that together, they were known as the strongest.

when you joined the school less than a year ago, it was always 'sashisu'. satoru gojo, shoko ieri, and suguru geto were the three musketeers. they were inseparable. they welcomed you into their little trio with loving arms (it took awhile for satoru, but we're here now).

when you first met suguru, you thought he was the nicest human being you had ever met. you questioned how such a gentle and caring man could be bestfriends with someone like the insolent satoru gojo.

suguru had been acting strange a couple weeks after the incident with toji fushiguro. he looked tired, worn out. almost dissatisfied with how things were going. he questioned himself as if he was going to be left behind in terms of strength and growth as a sorcerer. satoru’s powers were increasing by the day, and if satoru was getting stronger, so were the curses that they had to exorcise. this was draining for suguru, absorbing curses wasn't the most appetizing thing, and it was tiresome to him.

the day that yaga-sensei had brought satoru into his office for a chat was the day you and shoko eavesdropped from outside his office to find out more information about your absent friend. suguru geto had gone missing after his mission in a small village outside of tokyo. the jujutsu society had sent their team to investigate.

“what?” satoru gasped. he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“don’t make me repeat myself, satoru… suguru fled after killing everyone in the village.” yaga-sensei buried his face in his hands. he started to massage his temple.

“i heard you, sensei.” satoru sighed in disbelief. there was no way suguru would do that, he knew his bestfriend. at least, he thought he did.

“his parents’ home is vacant as well. however, from the blood stains and residuals… it seems like he might have killed his family.”

yaga-sensei and satoru had no idea what to think. they were also at a loss for words.

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

suguru’s vile act alone would deem him as a curse user and a death sentence was the punishment from the jujutsu society. he was now the enemy. satoru couldn’t believe it, he didn't want to. he slammed his dorm room door shut after he heard the news, leaving you and shoko alone to deal with the aftermath. you had never seen satoru like this since you joined jujutsu high. (a/n: it’s actually a death sentence that’s the punishment, oops!)

“shoko, i—” you were going to start word vomiting out of nervousness.

“(y/n), it’s okay. you don’t have to say anything.” the medical student put her hand on your shoulder. you pulled her in for a hug. you could hear her sigh. she was the bridge between satoru and suguru.

throughout the years of being their friend, shoko ieri was the middle ground, the center, the happy medium. whenever satoru and suguru fought, she was the mediator. whenever they experienced the best of times together, she got to bare witness and experience it with them too. you could say that shoko ieri was the glue to satoru gojo and suguru geto.

“i know where to find suguru. let’s go meet him.” shoko motioned quietly to you.

“should we let satoru know?” you questioned her. you worried about your boyfriend, would he be okay being left alone? should you go to his side to comfort him instead?

“no, let him brood for a bit. he might bite you if you try to open his door.” she teased.

shinjuku, japan

“how did you know he would be here in shinjuku?” you asked shoko, you both watched as suguru walked towards you both. she just smiled before calling out to him.

“need a light?” she asked the banished sorcerer, holding up her lighter.

“hey you two,” he greeted the both of you as if he didn’t commit mass murder two days ago.

“well, well, well, if it isn’t the culprit himself. are all the accusations about you true?” she interrogated him nonchalantly while lighting a cigarette for him.

“i’m afraid they are. shoko, (y/n), i'm going to create a world of only jujutsu sorcerers. and i don’t need everyone to understand that.”

“sulking because no one understands you… sounds childish if you ask me.” shoko took out her phone and dialed a number, “hey, gojo? geto’s here. yeah, me and (y/n) are in shinjuku.” she hung up the phone and turned to you.

“come on, (y/n), we don’t want to get caught in this crossfire.” she took your hand and started to lead you away from suguru.

“hold on,” you let go of her hand and turned to walk back to suguru.

his face full of surprise, “(y/n), what’s on your mind? i’m surprised you’re not with satoru right now.”

he scratched the back of his head with a smile. he knew that satoru relied on you for comfort and solace. you and satoru we’re always with each other. if satoru wasn’t with suguru, he was most likely with you.

“uhm, i—” you stumbled over your words, “i wanted to thank you, uh, for being so nice to me when i joined jujutsu high. you always had my back during our missions together, and you made sure i was okay... you even defended me when satoru was being a jerk to me when i first started at the school. thank you for being his bestfriend. i’m sorry things turned out this way, suguru.” you reached towards him to hug him. this would most likely be the last time you would see him.

suguru hugged you back. you two were still friends after all. you felt a strong, but familiar cursed energy, it gave you the chills. you let go of suguru and patted his chest, giving him a soft smile. you turned to walk away as you saw the face of your distraught boyfriend looking at you.

you looked into his eyes, he wasn’t wearing his typical circular black sunglasses. his eyes were solemn and dull, the opposite from his standard blazing bright blue. his white hair wisped just below his lashes. he didn’t say a word to you, even though you could feel his all emotions wanting to explode from him. you reached for satoru’s hand and gave him a soft, encouraging squeeze. he swallowed as you patted his shoulder and you walked away with shoko. you knew that this was between satoru and suguru, and no one else.

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

“suguru. explain yourself.” satoru called out to his bestfriend.

“you already heard, didn’t you? that’s all there is to it.” suguru said in a very cordial manner.

“that’s all you needed to convince yourself to kill non-sorcerers and your parents?!” satoru couldn’t believe what he was hearing, couldn't fathom what was coming out of suguru’s mouth.

“it wouldn’t be fair if i made an exception for my parents. besides, my family now consists of more than just them.” suguru had thought about the twin girls he had saved from the village. they were the ones he wanted to protect now.

“that’s not what i’m talking about. you were the one who said pointless killing is useless.” satoru was losing his cool. what had happen to his reasonable bestfriend?

“killing all non-sorcerers to make a world of only sorcerers is impossible.” satoru argued.

“you could do it, satoru. you’re trying to convince me that it’s impossible when you yourself could do it if you wanted to.” suguru believed that his goal of making a world of only jujutsu sorcerers was something he could make happen, which is why he was willing to give up everything to do it.

satoru’s eyes widened. what in the world was suguru talking about?

“are you the strongest because you’re satoru gojo? or are you satoru gojo because you’re the strongest?”

“what the hell are you trying to say?!” satoru shouted in frustration. he still wasn't understanding.

“if i could be you, wouldn’t my impossible ideals become possible? this is the life i’ve chosen, all i can do now is give it all i’ve got. if you want to kill me, kill me. there would be meaning in that too.” suguru turned away to start his journey, without satoru by his side.

and that’s where satoru gojo had to make the decision between killing his bestfriend or letting the curse user walk freely. satoru held out his right hand, slowly connecting his thumb and his middle finger. he’d never successfully used this cursed technique before, it was one of the strongest moves in the gojo clan that only a few clan members knew about. hollow purple.

he couldn’t bring himself to do it. he curled his fist and retreated his hand in defeat as he watched as suguru walked away from him in pursuit of his own goals in life. even if that meant that they wouldn’t be present in each other’s anymore.

tokyo jujutsu high

again, you and shoko stood behind the school's front entrance where satoru and yaga-sensei were talking, listening in on their conversation after satoru had returned from shinjuku.

“why did you let him go?” yaga-sensei asked as satoru grumbled on the cold concrete steps of tokyo jujutsu high school.

“are you really asking me that?” satoru couldn’t tell him that he didn't have the guts to kill his bestfriend.

“no, you’re right. i’m sorry.” he apologized. he knew it would be hard for satoru to cope. suguru was his bestfriend after all, his one and only.

“sensei... i’m strong, right?” he asked his teacher.

“yes, you are. in the impudence department too.” yaga-sensei bantered with him.

“it seems like just me being strong isn’t enough. i can only save those who want to be saved.” satoru said while looking out into the distance. he was tired of being the one who had to do all the saving. he wished he could ask for help. he didn't want to be alone anymore.

later that night

you made sure that megumi and tsumiki were sleeping soundly before you left your dorm room to return to satoru's. it had been three months since satoru brought them home to you, and two weeks since suguru had left the school.

things between you and satoru had felt strained due to the lack of communication. however, he never failed to show you affection in a hug or a kiss, or even just by holding hands. you felt the tension climbing, distance between you both growing. even though you slept next to him in his bed every night, it still felt cold. the warmth from the love you two shared had started to die down.

you understood that suguru meant the world to satoru. he was important to him, he loved him. one of your very first conversations as a couple was about the people he cared about in his life, he mentioned shoko and suguru's name. that was also the night he told you that you were one of them too. someone that he cared about.

"can't sleep?" satoru softly asked. your tossing and turning must have kept him awake.

"i'm worried about you." you knew he was going to deflect in 3... 2... 1—

"well, you don't have to worry about me, babe. i'm fine." satoru downplayed his emotions and you hated it.

"you are not fine, satoru." you argued as you stared at the popcorn ceiling above you.

you could feel his eyes studying you, he shifted his body to face you. "whoa, what's with the government name and attitude?" he joked.

"now's not the time for jokes. i'm being serious. we need to talk." you sat up in his bed abruptly.

he could hear in your tone that something was upsetting you. "what's wrong, (y/n)?"

"everything…” you whispered quietly.

tears started to form in your eyes. satoru sat up in his bed, the tone of your voice alarmed him. his heart started to race as he felt an uncertain feeling in his chest. was this fear he was feeling?

"you aren't okay and you won't admit it. it's distracting you from being present. you missed tsumiki's dance recital at school, you forgot to pick up the kids two days ago, and you aren't all there when we spar at jujutsu practice. i've never been able to land any of my cursed techniques on you before, and you got hurt because of that."

satoru had been so absentminded and distracted that you caught him off guard with his infinity off, your ice shard grazed his arm during the spar. you had to heal him with your reversed cursed energy that day.

"and what hurts the most is that i can feel you shutting me out every time i try to talk to you. i'm supposed to be your partner in life, satoru. i don't want you to push me away. if you’re not okay, i’m not okay.” you expressed as tears streamed down your face.

satoru didn't have any words to say, no excuses to come up with. he acknowledged that you tried to talk to him multiple times since suguru had left, but he didn't want to add more to your plate. you were taking care of the kids, taking on missions alone, all while trying to keep up with your studies to make sure you made it to graduation. he didn't want to burden you any more with his ridiculous bestfriend drama.

"i'm not allowed to be sad or weak. i have to be strong, (y/n). i don't have time to be caught up in my emotions." satoru said. you swear you heard his voice waver even though he was trying to 'be strong'.

"just because people call you the strongest, you think you can’t be sad or weak? satoru, that doesn't mean you can't confide in me. i promised you that i would be there for you. for whatever you need." you wiped your tears.

"satoru..."

"yeah, baby?"

"do you love me?"

"of course i do. i love you so much." satoru replied quietly.

"then can you just tell me what you're feeling right now?" you asked through your quivering voice.

and for the first time in 18 years, satoru gojo did not have any words to say. not a joke. no innappropriate comment. not a speck of sarcasm. nothing. he couldn't tell you how he felt, as much as he wanted to scream and shout and tell you how he was hurting and that he didn't want to be alone. the little voice in the back of his head told him not to, that he didn't deserve to.

you have had enough tonight. you got up from your side of the bed and put on your jujutsu high robe, "i think i should go check up on the kids." tears still streaming down your cheek as you quickly brushed them away. satoru couldn't even watch you leave his room. he knew that once you left his room tonight, you wouldn’t be coming back to it. the door shut behind you and he felt his heart breaking more.

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

you opened the door to your room quietly, trying not wake up the kids, but megumi was a light sleeper. he woke up instantly and looked at you. tsumiki was a heavy sleeper and nothing could wake her up. you sniffled and collected yourself. you didn’t want him to know you were crying.

“(y/n), did you and gojo-sensei fight?” megumi rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand to wake himself up. he shifted his body over to make room for you on your king sized bed.

"that obvious, huh?" you scoffed.

you thanked god that megumi and tsumiki were still tiny and that three people could fit on your bed or you'd be sleeping with shoko right now. you laid down next to megumi and got under the covers. he was the most observant 5 year old ever. megumi was intelligent, calculated, and strong. gojo had a blast training with him. you both knew he was going to be an amazing sorcerer when he grows up.

“there are just some things that we aren’t agreeing on right now, megumi.” you patted his head, his blue hair slipping through your fingers.

“i think he just needs some time alone to think. he's been busy.” the child spoke on behalf of satoru.

“busy enough that he forgot to pick you guys up from school?” you were so angry with him for that. it was his job to pick them up that day because you were on a mission.

“it’s okay, we just called nanami to pick us up.” megumi tried defending him with his own little peculiar statement. you never thought you’d see the day megumi would be defending satoru.

“it’s not okay, megumi. i want him to be there for you and tsumiki. like we promised. i want him to be present.”

the next morning

the next morning was awkward and the air was still filled with tension. satoru always accompanied you to get the kids ready for school. he knocked on your dorm door to find you doing tsumiki’s hair while megumi was sitting patiently, waiting for you two to finish.

“oh… you guys got started already.” he said, trying to hide the hurt. he felt a little betrayed as this was supposed to be your morning routine together.

“here, you finish putting the clips in her hair.” you gave him the jar full of different colored butterfly clips and got up to retreat to your bathroom so you could finish getting ready.

satoru sighed and looked at tsumiki and megumi. they were awfully quiet this morning, their usual selves would be chirping back and forth at each other. laughter was always present in your morning routine, but not today.

“she’s still mad at me, huh?” satoru asked the children.

tsumiki smiled awkwardly at him and nodded while megumi snapped at him, “just tell her how you feel, idiot.”

“whoa, what’s with the attitude, megumi?” satoru asked, he was surprised with the 5 year old’s tone.

“i just don’t like seeing (y/n) cry.” satoru knew that you were megumi's favorite guardian, in fact, everyone knew.

“yeah? me either, kiddo.” satoru frowned. he attached two pink butterfly clips in tsumiki’s hair. he heard you shuffling through your bathroom drawers, afraid to turn around to face you once you exited the bathroom.

he took a deep breath and looked over at you. he could see through your makeup that your eyes were still swollen from crying last night, skin glowing from the flushed cheeks. god, how could you still look so beautiful after crying?

“ready for breakfast?” you asked your unconventional family. tsumiki smiled and nodded, trying her best to brighten up the room. megumi grabbed your hand to hold (and comfort) as he led the way to the dining hall. satoru felt envious that it wasn’t him holding your hand instead. but what could he do?

later that afternoon

after you dropped the kids off at school, you and satoru walked back through the jujutsu high courtyard. the cobblestone walkway felt cold and the surrounding trees felt like they were about to swallow the both of you into a dark abyss. the only thing you could hear was the wind and your soft footsteps.

you and satoru didn’t hold hands. you didn’t even link your arm through his like you usually did. and he sure felt the bitterness from you today. you walked side by side together. the silence was deafening until you broke it.

“satoru… i’m going to take megumi and tsumiki back with me to my clan’s estate for the semester break… and i don’t think i want you to come with us. i’ll tell touya you’re going to see your family instead.” you held back your tears. satoru stopped in his tracks, you were two steps ahead of him.

“but baby, i—” he began to say.

you turned around to face him, “ever since suguru left, you’ve changed. you’ve been distant, you avoid every conversation i try to have with you. and you’re the type of person who always tries to talk things out right away… even though you know i'm usually the one that needs time. so now, i’m giving you the time you need so you can decide what you want to do with your life and where your priorities lie…”

“that’s not fair, (y/n).” satoru snapped at you. how could you take the kids and leave him alone?

“what’s not fair to you?!” you lashed back at him. you saw the defeated and distraught look in his face and it crushed you. it was the same expression he had when he spoke with suguru in shinjuku.

“just—don’t. don’t start crying again.” he mumbled. it was always game over for him when you started crying. seeing you cry was one of the worst feelings next to his favorite kikufuku stand running out of his favorite flavor. it was too late, the tears started to flow again.

satoru took a step closer towards you, testing out the waters on if you would let him approach you or if you would push him away. once he didn’t sense any resistance from you, he pulled you into his arms, hugging you so tightly you couldn’t breathe. he didn't want to let go. everyone knew that you couldn’t be without each other, so why was he feeling like you were leaving him behind, just like suguru did?

when he finally loosened his arms around you, you gently caressed his cheek with your left hand. satoru had finally felt your warmth again. he melted into your hand and closed his eyes. you could see a layer of tears forming on his white lashes.

you kissed his cheek and softly said, “take the time you need to figure things out during the semester break. me and the kids will be here when you get back. i promise.”

two weeks later

satoru had spent two weeks with his own clan during the semester break. it was refreshing for him to speak with his clan elders to get a little insight on what he could work on next, he spent time perfecting his techniques, and just finally relaxed for once. during this time to himself, he was able to combine blue and red to perform a successful hollow purple. he even mastered his long distance teleportation. there was one person who he couldn't wait to tell about his success, it was you.

although he was busy training and enjoying the time with his own clan, he spent a lot of time thinking about suguru's betrayal and how to be present for the kids like you had asked him to. but there was one thing person that wouldn’t leave his mind, it was you.

after a couple days of brooding, satoru came to the conclusion that he would never get over suguru's actions, but he knew that he wanted to be better than suguru. he was going to become a teacher at jujutsu high as soon as his third year was over, and he was going to raise strong and intelligent allies. with no hesitation, he knew who his first ally would be, it was you.

satoru still felt like he was missing something someone in his life, even though he was surrounded by his clan. you, megumi, and tsumiki were 6 hours away in osaka with your clan, but satoru still felt like his heart was 247 miles away (the distance between osaka and tokyo). he knew what his heart was missing, it was you.

satoru gojo didn’t care for many things in life. he kept his circle small, his family was very prominent but low key, and he was pretty private about his own life. he didn’t care about protecting anyone until he met you, (y/n) from the osaka (l/n) clan. the most beautiful water and ice cursed technique user he had ever laid his pretty blue eyes on. satoru was never shy at telling you he loved you, but today was the day he realized just how much he did. satoru called out to his grandparents before he teleported to your clan's estate, "gramps, grams, i'm heading out to (y/n)'s. we'll see you at the next semester break. and we'll bring tsumiki and megumi to meet everyone too!"

satoru gojo knew who he wanted to see, and it was you.

osaka, japan

"(y/n)!" tsumiki cried out for you frantically.

you rushed out of your family's minka to see what the 6 year old was shrieking about. your heart skipped a beat to see a white-haired, blue-eyed sorcerer holding her in his arms as she was hugging him tightly. tsumiki had the biggest smile on her face. she had missed her partner in crime these past two weeks... you and her both.

"(y/n), it's gojo-sensei! he came to see us!" she waved towards you, signaling that satoru was there and for you to come over quickly. satoru was actually here. he was present.

your brother looked at you and smiled, "it looks like someone missed you, sis." he patted your shoulder before standing up from the steps of the minka, "i'll have the housekeepers get a spare room ready for him."

you smiled at your brother as he left your side. you stood on the steps of your family estate. your hand perched on your hip, a laugh breaking through to show your pearly whites, hiding your eyes with your cheeky smile. it had been awhile since satoru saw the smile that he loved so much.

you gave up your solid front and started walking towards satoru. he put tsumiki down and did the same. soft footsteps started to turn into a brisk walk, the brisk walk started to turn into a sprint, the sprint towards each other turned into a colliding embrace.

"what are you doing here, satoru?" you mumbled in his chest as you tried to catch your breath from your sprinting.

"i missed you, (y/n)." satoru said with his eyes closed, inhaling your scent. he missed your nectarine and honey blossom perfume that always lingered around him too.

"i missed you too."

satoru leaned down to kiss your forehead. you smiled softly as his lips trailed down to your temple and then to your cheek. you held his face with your hands and pulled him in for a kiss on his soft pink lips. he broke your kiss to look down at you. he had something he wanted to say.

"babe, the past two weeks i took a lot of time for myself to think. the one common denominator that always came to my mind was you. i'm sorry for the way i acted. i'm going to try my best to communicate with you from now on. i won't leave you in the dark anymore." satoru pledged with his heart.

"thank you, satoru." you whispered. you held him a bit tighter.

"you pinky promise?" megumi asked out of the nowhere. you and satoru looked down at the blue haired child with tsumiki by his side. you both started laughing as your intimate moment was interrupted by your adopted children. (read ‘pinky promises’ here)

satoru flashed his signature grin at megumi, "yeah, i pinky promise, kiddo."

megumi and tsumiki approached you both to join in on the family group hug. you and satoru crouched down to embrace them as you kissed the top of their heads.

satoru softly said to the kids, "from now on, i promise to be present."

DIVIDERS PROVIDED BY @/ANLIAN-AISHANG

1K notes · View notes

driaswrld · 8 months

Text

what was i made for? — gojo satoru and geto suguru.

wc : 1.3k

summary : reader and the boys go through the aftermath of the star plasma vessel incident, which leaves reader questioning just how much things have changed and if there's even a way to move forward from here.

part of : the star paradox collection.

notes : this is readers pov of how things are going, and im hoping to do satoru and suguru's own parts as well bcus this really fleshes out the dynamics in the trio. also, the tsr collection will dive into more of this in terms of character analysis for the sake of the au - but i won't kill y'all with too much angst. yet. IM KIDDING CHILL!!

other : jjk szn two spoilers! mentions of toji incident, mentions of hickeys, reader dissociates, rs label is undefined (they're literally dating without knowing it bye) yes im also having thoughts abt barbie goodbye. @kfmcykdy gets the privilege tag today <33

current casette : what was i made for? - barbie, the album.

The summer of ‘06, everything changed.

It started days after the incident with Riko.

You’d been sitting on Suguru’s bed, back leaned against the headboard as he smoked a cigarette, shirtless and flat on his back, head leaned over the edge of the bed.

More often than usual now, Suguru smokes.

Satoru makes fun with it all in good faith most times and takes a few drags from the stick himself before coughing out the smoke.

He’d say something along the lines of him and Suguru being the first to kick the bucket, leaving you behind — one from lung cancer the other from diabetes, cause truly, there’s nothing in this world living and breathing that could kill them.

Suguru would say, he isn’t afraid of death. And if he goes out, he wants it to be because you and Satoru smothered him in his sleep.

Everything’s changed, hasn’t it?

“It’s raining,” he murmurs, a puff of smoke leaving his mouth. Subconsciously, you lean forward a little to inhale it, chasing him. Always chasing.

Because if Suguru is smoke and Satoru is fire, what are you? If they’re the strongest, what are you? “Satoru forgot his umbrella.” You finish for him, like you’ve taken residence in his mind.

Suguru hates it. But his existence, it’s yours and Satoru’s isn’t it?

There’s a hickey adorning the base of Suguru’s throat, another trail of marks covering his collarbone. If you looked lower, you’d see more of you and Satoru embedded in his flesh. But even now, you can’t move your eyes below Suguru’s neck. So you look away entirely.

Too many times these past days have you looked straight at him, and have your mind transported back to the image of him bloody and bruised, caked in crimson from the edge of his shoulders, across the expanse of his chest down to the curved line of his pelvis.

It's funny how now the scar is shaped like a star.

That day, you’d just returned from a mission, a day later than your arrival was scheduled for. Your bag clattered out of your hand the moment you opened your dorm door. Drops of blood in dried trails led from the doorway to your bed, to the bathroom then back.

He came to you first, and you weren’t there.

“name.” Suguru whispers, and when you look over to him again, he’s sitting upright and looking at you. “Where’d you go just now?” He asks, and a chilly feeling blossoms on your skin. But it’s not from the rain breeze wafting through the window.

If I tell you, you’ll hold me.

And if you hold me, I’ll shatter in your arms.

“Just daydreaming.” You say and he looks at you, one brow raised slightly. Suguru leans to the side and flicks the cigarette butt through the open window.

He doesn’t ask. Maybe because he knows if Satoru asked him, he wouldn’t say it either.

Everything’s changed.

“Okay,” he says and Suguru, your beautiful Suguru — “name.” He calls to you again, except this time it comes out softer, more like a plea.

His body shifts atop the sheets, curling into a fetal position, the side of his cheek resting on the fat of your thigh. “Don’t go too far away from me next time,” he whispers, your fingers sifting through his dark hair.

Two days later, Satoru leaves for a mission in Shinjuku.

He wakes early, knocks on your dorm door twice, slides a note under the door with a thin packet of powdered candy taped to it.

You don’t get out of bed to pick it up. Satoru thinks you must be tired again. You look so tired these days.

When you finally wake up, it’s afternoon.

Suguru is home from his own mission, and he makes you a cup of tea, kisses your cheek and heads to his room.

Lately, the thing you and Suguru have most in common is that you sleep. All the time, sleep. You wonder if it’s for different reasons.

Then later, the clock in the corridor of the dormitory building strikes nine.

You hear Satoru’s shoes against the hardwood floors and you look over your shoulder from where you’re seated on the common room couch, some cheesy romcom playing on the tv.

“Yo.” Satoru smiles, white plastic bag rustling in his grasp when he pushes his sunglasses up to rest in his snowy hair. You smile back at him, and despite yourself, your gaze goes back to the tv, the soft lighting hiding the furrow of your brow.

Does he not notice?

No, it’s not that.

“Did you eat already?” He asks, setting the bag down on the coffee table in front of you. Rather than sitting beside you on the couch, he pushes the plastic bag to the side and rests his weight there on the coffee table, one leg crossed in an ‘L shape’ over the other.

His collar is high, even though it’s hot out.

Maybe, if you didn’t know him enough, all these things would sneak past your gaze.

Everyday, every new detail, every new scar whether physical or not, gnaws at you like a disease stirring your insides.

Satoru won’t say it, but he doesn’t like when anyone touches his neck anymore.

He used to love it, when Suguru would kiss his nape, when you move the soft strands aside to cut his hair. When the tip of Suguru’s nose tickles his adam’s apple, or when you lick a stripe at the bottom of his throat.

Limitless. Infinity. Invincible.

Until it isn't.

“Yeah, Shoko brought over takeout,” you say and the glow of his blue orbs don’t really feel like Satoru right now.

If this was a month ago, you’d laugh at yourself for thinking that. When is Satoru never Satoru?

But, has everything really changed?

You want to reach a hand out to him and unzip the top of his uniform, maybe then he could breathe a little easier. But why?

Why do your fingers tremble in your lap?

Something inside of you feels like your fingers will be met with a barrier. And if you try to touch him now, with a barrier between you two, it will kill you again.

More than the sight of his near lifeless body ever could.

“name?” He tilts his head to the side, and your eyes dart back to him, unaware that you even looked away in the first place.

There’s a sound of static from the tv just as your eyes meet his, and the two of you rise from your seats at the same time —

Who’s chasing who this time?

There's a scar there on his neck, you know it. He hasn't given you the chance to look at it for longer than a few seconds — Toji is burned into his flesh.

Or rather, a reminder of his weakness is.

Satoru opens his mouth to say something. But he isn’t as easily read as Suguru sometimes.

His emotions are clouded by more complex emotions. When Satoru feels, he feels everything.

He comes in a box with one hundred different user manuals in different languages that no one knows. Suguru was a translator, and you, a scribe, committing him to memory. But even then —

Why won’t you say what you feel, Satoru?

He clenches a fist by his side, like he's holding back, his gaze drops from yours and he walks over to the tv, knocking the top of it a few times to get it to stop glitching out. In between that he whispers, “I brought noodles — somen for Suguru and the cold soba you like…”

Satoru looks tired, he falters in his stride.

Strength, huh?

The air around you feels cold with the weight of his cursed energy, no matter how thin and how much he tries to regulate the flow, you can feel it.

You would know him blind.

How long have you been seeing everything in the world but us?

You’ve never wanted to cry more in your life.

“I’m sure Suguru could eat,” you whisper back, voice a little hoarse. Suguru is probably asleep, or pretending to, like he does sometimes, just so he doesn’t have to see Satoru after missions like this – where he’s trying so hard. So hard to do more, to be more.

And you don’t see it, but you have a feeling Satoru’s heart is breaking in two. Why?

Why are things so different no matter how hard we try?

“Yeah? I have a dvd of that movie we never got to watch somewhere under my bed—”

Maybe.

Everything’s changed.

But maybe, things need to change.

#★ DRIASWRLD #tsr ⭐️#jujutsu kaisen #satosugu x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #gojo satoru #geto suguru #satoru gojo #suguru geto #gojo x geto x reader #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fanfic

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prefer-to-be-vilified · 9 months

Note

Hi! What are your favorite Wenclair fics?👀

I’m so glad you asked and I’m about to be so extra.

This fandom is beyond talented and I have many favourites. So I might as well make this an official Prefer-to-be-vilified Wenclair Fic Rec Masterlist… post (name could use some work but you get the idea).

I’m going to try to remember/link all my favourites but I’ll probably (definitely) forget some. And also I obviously haven’t read every Wenclair fic out there, my ‘to-read’ list is intimidatingly long and personal preferences are going to play a part in the fics I have included. But if I’ve missed some hidden gems please let me know!

Under the cut because this got long…

One-Shots/Short Chapter Fics:

the Witch & the Wyld by ohHOLYmoves - Long one-shot, Wednesday’s a witch who lives in the woods, Enid’s a werewolf stuck in her wolf form, need I say more?

Reset by Eggplant_Crusader - The OG. Probably the first fic read by a good portion of this fandom. Short, sweet, what the miscommunication trope is supposed to be.

her heart is a bird on a spit in her chest by lensbian_dykely - Long one-shot, Wednesday tells her parents that her and Enid are together without informing Enid.

What does he have that I don’t? by kofeew_milkk - Jealous Enid meets Werewolf instincts.

hello there, it’s me, the bull in the china shop by bogteats - Established Wenclair, 5+1 fic leading up to their first time.

I Think I Love You by tawen - Enid gets dosed with truth serum, Enid’s in love with Wednesday…

I Can Hear Your Heartbeat by LesbihonestGuys - Wednesday is a simp coming to terms with being in love and she’s real mad about it.

sandbox love by hanjisgirlfriend - Childhood friends falling in love.

gifts from a cat by Rennajade - Wednesday being a weirdo.

She’s my mate, Yoko! by lovely_shadow_minx - Enid realises Wednesday’s her mate and freaks out about it.

i tend to handle things usually by myself and i can’t ever seem to try and ask for help by Charlie_Balle - Wednesday’s actually allergic to colour.

The Art of Courting by Athems - Wednesday tries to court Enid but Enid thinks she’s threatening her.

Please (Just This Once) by whitebeltwriter - Wednesday trying to prevent a vision and the very emotional aftermath.

Wednesday Finds a Puppy by whitebeltwriter - Wednesday finds a random puppy in the woods and thinks it’s Enid… it’s not Enid.

Are You Going To Claim Your Prize? by wintersdume - The furs make a bet over who can get Wednesday’s number, Enid gets jealous.

It’s the Uniform, Isn’t it? by wintersdume - Enid plays baseballs, Wednesday gay panics.

Mobile Etiquette by Axinite25 - Wednesday not understanding the nuisances of teenage dating/friendship.

fuel the pyre of your enemies by heliamphoria - Wenclair meet cute while committing crimes.

Scrapped Scenes by MomochiZoey - Enid’s nosy and discovers that Wednesday’s self insert Viper now has a blonde love interest.

Premonition’s Embrace by whitebeltwriter - Wednesday has a vision that forces her to admit her feelings for Enid.

if she grabs for your hand (she might want a kiss) by ipretendtobesane - Short love confession, adorable.

Stormy Weather by SspiltDecision - Wednesday’s scared of thunder, Enid helps her.

don’t talk to me or my scary goth gf ever again by Kybee1497 - Protective (slightly feral) Enid and Xavier not taking a hint.

Complete Long Fics:

Terms of Endearment by Calchexxis - AU future fic/they didn’t meet at Nevermore, Enid goes to the Addams family for help after being kicked out of her pack for not being able to wolf-out but Wednesday’s the only one home, Wednesday has visions every time they touch about different versions of them/their ancestors throughout history, SIMPING, the worlds gayest mystery, I’ve read it several times and it always hits.

Forged in Blood by RiseAboveTheAshes_203 - Post season 1, I don’t know how to describe it other than angsty devotion, if for some insane reason you haven’t read this fic do it now.

The San Francisco Incident by Apeoflight - AU future fic/they don’t meet at Nevermore, Omegaverse, Werewolf mates, falling in love, real smutty, what’s not to love?

the nature of idiosyncrasies by bogteats - One of the fics I managed to catch early on and I was OBSESSED, AU, future fic, they weren’t friends at Nevermore but Enid had a crush, Omegaverse, their dynamic in this is to die for, angsty, smutty, a real and honest portrayal of not only Wenclair but people and love in general, read it, that was a threat, if you already have read it again.

raven in the den, wolf in the nest by Barbara_Lazuli - Canon divergence, fake dating to annoy Esther Sinclair, full honesty I read this awhile ago so I’m not 100% certain what happens but I remember enjoying it, might need to do a re-read.

black marked sun by chasinghours - AU college/university, Wednesday’s Yoko and Bianca’s roommate and Enid becomes infatuated, very cute, a little angsty but nothing crazy, shy Wednesday??? if I remember correctly, gay pining, we love to see it.

Purgatory Would Be Beautiful With You by EmilyWritesStuff - In universe, WEREWOLF MATES (aka the best Wenclair trope), fun and easy read, each chapter is like a slice of their life as mates.

Dance With Wolves by wolfwars - Fake dating BUT Wednesday doesn’t realise that it’s fake (because Enid was vague af), Enid’s pining, Wednesday’s confused, great idea and really well executed.

You Are my Moon by Bee-nut - Fake dating except Wednesday commits to the bit so hard she ends up facing off against Enid’s family aka a pack of werewolves in various dangerous challenges in order to win Enid’s hand, great idea, loved every minute of it.

Old Wounds by Sharpen_your_hatchet - Wenclair reunite years after graduation, less falling in love more realising they were always in love and coming to terms with that, sweet and easy read.

So This Is Love by LoriLoud - Unhinged Murderous Wenclair… no further explanation needed.

La Petite Mort by Apeoflight AND Wednesday’s Pet by Apeoflight - Smut, they’re both smut fics, I cannot remember which was which plot wise, but same author, they’re both really good and with a good helping of falling in love, yearning, denial of feelings, miscommunication, angst… all the good stuff.

Vortex by ALotOfConfusion - Need a refresher but childhood friends to lovers, little Wednesday wants to study werewolves and I remember enjoying it.

Puppy Love by Vaniloqu3nce - Enid’s wolf starts talking to her after recognising Wednesday as their mate, havoc follows, great read.

yours, eurydice by hanjisgirlfriend - AU, future fic, they never met at Nevermore, Wednesday’s a writer, Enid’s an actress, they live across the hall from each other, they write each other love letters and fall in love, cute af, a little angsty but not too heavy, definitely a must read.

It’s hard to espresso my feelings for you by SquishiestRose - Coffee shop AU, Wednesday works at the Weathervane and she has it BAD, the platonic Wyler this world needs, a little angsty but nothing crazy, cute, fun read.

Spell It Out by forgot_my_art - A spell gone wrong leads to both a misunderstanding and an accidental proposal… I mean it’s Wenclair, of course it did, fun read.

A raven’s dream of wolf by tokyocorgi - AU future fic/they never met at Nevermore, Wednesday’s sex dreams are also prophecy’s of her future, we love to see it.

All That’s Best of Dark and Bright by Porcie - Wednesday runs from her feelings post season 1, they reunite years later, Wednesday has a vision that forces her to stay in Enid’s life and by extension forces her to confront her feelings, they’re in love the entire time while pretending they aren’t, almost soulmate-ish, a bit angsty, but a fun read.

On-Going Long Fics:

[friendly reminder to read in-progress fic as a way to encourage and support our talented writers]

I’d Eat the Sun Just to Feel Your Warmth in my Bones by MsMio - AU college/university, I still need to catch up but ANGST, childhood friends, a very interesting take on the Addams family curse, Wednesday suffers from chronic pain, a good sad read but a hopeful one.

our immeasurable ties that bind by bogteats - Fantasy type AU, some very interesting world building, Enid wakes up pregnant with no idea who she is, where she is, or how she got there, super excited to see where this goes.

Blood and Shadows by DarkVisitors - Historical AU, western vibes, angst, horny gay yearning, a vague line in the summary that alludes to them being forced to marry at gun point but it hasn’t happened yet, I am beyond invested.

A Kidnapping By Any Other Name by RavenMoon33 - Wednesday “kidnaps” Enid to spend the break with her at the Addams Estate, I’m still catching up but Wenclair antics meets Addams Family antics, Wednesday’s having visions, there’s a mystery afoot and it’s linked to Wednesday’s ancestors. I might try to squeeze in another chapter later today actually 👀 (I didn’t read the OG so no spoilers!)

Whatever This Is… by CautiouslyPessimistic - A NEW FAKE DATING AU! In universe, takes place at Nevermore, only 2 chapters so far, but well written and I’m excited to see more.

Well… That’s Knew by Chaos_of_the_valkyries - Post season 1, Enid presents as a werewolf alpha and your honour they’re mates, protective Enid, Wednesday going soft, apparently I’ve missed the last two updates??? A crime, I will be rectifying that asap.

The Bite that Binds, the Gift that Gives by TieDyeKing - Historical Fantasy-ish AU, Wenclair arranged marriage, immediate connection but they’re being cautious/don’t trust each other, beautiful imagery/world building, an intriguing plot, Esther Sinclair being Esther Sinclair (aka causing problems), only a few chapters but one of my favourites since forever ago, in love with this fic and you should be too.

Symbiotic Relationship by SquishiestRose - AU future fic/they don’t meet at Nevermore, Enid gets kicked out of her pack and ends up desperate enough that she accepts a job working as the live in servant of a woman she’s pretty sure is going to kill her (hint: it’s just Wednesday being her normal off putting self), I’m a sucker for future fics with a very isolated and lonely Wednesday learning to fall in love and this is that.

#this just took me so fucking long to do holy shit #I had stuff to do today #worth it though #wednesday #wenclair #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #enid x wednesday #wednesday netflix #wednesday 2022 #wenclair fic #wenclair fic rec #wenclair fanfic #wenclair fanfiction #asks #ptbv

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askfacultystaff · 11 months

Text

Picrew Pictures.

Rama Raid when he finds out about his faker

Rama: What?? How could this fricking happen??? It is devil in disguise?? O_O💢

Uncanny! Rama on his bad mood

Uncanny! Rama: Urgh!! I hate when this happens, i'm getting revenge, you motherfighter! 💢

For @neko-sufis-world.

Stellar Galaxy AU

Protective! Rama when someone tries to hurt one of his sisters or his baby brother.

Protective! Rama: DON'T. TOUCH. THEM. 💢

Billionaire! Principal and Maid! Neko-Sufi AU

If Rama started to follow their words

Occupied! Rama: *Sobbing* Please!... Don't kill me!... I promise i'll do everything for you!.... 😭

Aftermath of incident AU

Loni: *Laughs nervously* Better not hurt him, e-everyone. He-he's just wanted to say "hello"... Don't know why he's so s-speechless 😅

Rama: ....... 😒💢

This AU is about Rama with his brothers, especially his family moved into South Korea since they sold their Loud House. Rama's family is treating him with respect and caring about him more than before, but protective, they were greeted by people who has good attention to them, but they feel bad for Rama. One of random people asked them what happened to Rama. His father told him/her a story about this incident Rama had gone through.

His father, Lynn Sr. explains him/her how his sons meet Neko who's abused and had many bruises on her body. And they have make sure to call cops to arrest her cousins after they told Rama about her. The next day, Rama entered into her cousins' house, but saw a terrible sight where her cousins abused Neko more brutally. That makes him really angry as he shouts, trying to save her "GOTCHA, YOU ALL!!! YOU BETTER LEAVE HER ALONE, OR I CALL- 🤬💢" But sadly, some of her cousins attacked him, some of her other cousins continue to beat her up.

"And that's why he ended up in hospital after my sons beat them up for punching Sufi brutally..... *Sighs* But it was too late now.... 😔" He/she shocked after such story he explained. That means Rama is survived, yet wears an eyepatch, and some bandages on arms and legs, became silent and lost his emotions... But unfortunately for Neko...... *Sighs* She died..... Yes.... She died from getting abused by her cousins before they arrested by police officers....

Little did Rama know will have countless dreams of meeting Neko as angel, especially her sister, Angel! Usagi-Ijah, and her parents..

Neko! Rama Raid

Neko-Sufi

#education and learning #basically basics #rama raid #the loud house #genderbend au #neko sufi #future au #stellar galaxy au #protective! rama raid #uncanny! rama raid #alternate universe #aftermath of incident au #picrew #neko! rama raid #loni loud

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dejwrites · 1 year

Text

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀recovery, nanami kento

the shibuya incident shook the sorcery world (and japan) drastically and nanami kento is slowly transitioning back into the world. the dreadful feeling of not being able to help the youth he worked to protect sits heavy in his mind as his scarred hands tremble to do simple tasks. but nothing causes his stomach to twists in the most horrendous knots until he have to face his five year old daughter and the world again with his new battle scars. but as a good wife

♔ ˖ ✧ — general warnings: female reader, her/she pronouns, female anatomy described, black reader written in mind, physical descriptors, canon verse but also a what if nanami survive au, jjk spoilers, established relationship (reader and nanami are married), mentions of ptsd, mentions of scars and burn scars, cane usage, mentions of therapy, reader and nanami have a daughter named yu, same reader & nanami from family affairs series, first half is told in 2nd/reader pov & other half in nanami’s pov // smut warnings: cowgirl/riding position, breasts play, pet name usage (baby), finger sucking, praise kink, // word count: 4.4k, minors dni.

OCTOBER 31ST WAS A DAY THAT CHANGED YOUR LIFE DRASTICALLY. You remembered dropping your five-year-old daughter Yu off with a friend after an emergency call for many sorcerers to the Shibuya district. You remembered kissing both sides of your daughter’s cheeks because whenever her father wasn’t with you to drop her off, he always told you to make sure you gave her as many kisses as he would give her until she was a giggling mess begging for you to stop. You recalled how your fingertips were imprinted with the fragrance of blood despite you wearing latex gloves the whole time—with the number of deaths you marked down, perhaps that scent just was in your mind. You remembered having a drag of your first cigarette (complementary of Shoko) after the long day of horror—you hated it. You thought it would ease your growing anxiety when you didn’t know where your husband was at. You recalled how you noticed Shoko’s whole demeanor changed as her quick strides towards you seemingly were used to push you further away from seeing the horror that was soon displayed in your view.

You remembered how disoriented you felt. You couldn’t keep much food down and practically slept at the hospital. You just didn’t feel like yourself—but who would when they knew that the events at Shibuya had nearly killed their loved one? It broke your heart lying to your own daughter. Your tongue stinging, even uttering out the words that mommy and daddy had to take a work trip and will return as soon as possible. Your daughter thought you were away at work, but here you were, staring at the monitor in Nanami’s room beep. You didn’t want to lose him; you didn’t know what to do without him. You didn’t know what Yu would be without him, she was such a Daddy’s girl, and it would crush your soul for her first love to be taken away from her.

Nanami was strong. He pushed through. He wouldn’t be the same, but he pushed through. It was quite a journey of physical therapy, support groups, and even him deciding to stay at a hotel for a while, fearing how his daughter would react to seeing him like that. It took him two weeks and your constant encouragement until he finally decided to return home. Even when he decided to let his daughter see him eventually, you still basked in silence in the car, waiting until he was comfortable. Although your daughter wasn’t home yet, Nanami hadn’t stepped foot into your shared home in what seemed like a year—when it only had been a couple of months. The words of what he would say to his daughter swirl around his mind like a carnival carousel curling around. He had to do this. He couldn’t avoid being in his daughter’s life because of the triggering aftermath of Shibuya.

He refused to give Mahito that much power over him.

“I’m just afraid of how she’ll react.” Nanami lets out a sigh as he packs up his clothes. His scarred hands trembled as he folded his clothes to put them in his suitcase neatly. Nowadays, it takes him longer than usual to do simple tasks like buttoning his shirt, and he now attempts to fold his clothes.

“Our daughter is extraordinary; she’ll understand what we do when we explain it to her fully.” You grabbed Nanami’s trembling hands to get his full attention. “We told ourselves that we want her to enjoy her youth. We’ll protect her just so she can do that, but she‘s growing and becoming more curious—we can’t shelter her from a life that she could soon be interested in pursuing.”

You watched as Nanami’s lips formed a straight line. He couldn’t argue against your words because they were true. His daughter was five. It was no point to stir her away from the lifestyle her parents (and a good portion of people she interacted with) were so familiar with, especially when she could possibly already see the ghoulish creatures that haunted his nightmares when he closed his eyes.

“You’re still her father, Ken,” You mumbled as your eyes glanced up at him. “No matter how you look right now, she will still know it’s you because of this.” Your index finger pokes his chest where his heart is.

During some moments within the day, you watched Nanami do simple tasks around the house as the two of you were waiting for you to have to pick up Yu from your friend’s house. Deciding to do what you guys usually do on a bright Sunday morning: clean the house. Your eyes couldn’t help but shine in worry seeing his right-hand shudder while he tried to do something like help you cut up vegetables for dinner. You knew this took a toll on him because cooking dinner together was your thing. A form of love language created when you first started dating blossomed into a tradition—it was just something you two did together. Even after long days of work and raising a very bright personality five-year-old—you two always met in the kitchen, whipping up dinner together and sharing subtle kisses here and there.

Your lips parted to ask if he needed help, but it was as if he read your mind—Nanami shook his head as he continued to cut the vegetables. This time he had a better grip on the knife and was doing it perfectly. If you looked closer, you could even see a twinkle in his eye at him being able to do such a task. Your lips curve into a small smile before you return to doing what you were doing. The two of you moved in sync in the kitchen as if you were competitors in a cooking show—managing to finish dinner and set the table just in time for you to have to pick up Yu. You kissed Nanami’s cheek, mumbling about how you’ll be back as soon as possible. Your friend only lived about fifteen minutes away and didn’t mind dropping Yu off, but you felt it was best for you to talk to her first.

You hated to admit that you were afraid of how Yu would react at the sight of her father—especially considering that you never went into detail about what you two do. She knows you’re a doctor and heal people, but that was it. She had no clue about curses, cursed energy—any of that. Was it wrong to shield her from that, considering that her parents would die? Maybe. But you and Nanami wanted to do everything to protect her youth and her ability to be young. When you picked Yu up, you couldn’t help but smile, seeing her bright smile as she skipped out of your friend’s house with her belongings in one hand and taiyaki. She hugged your leg as you opened the car door, rambling about her adventures with your friend. You helped her in her booster seat and strapped her in before climbing back into the car and returning home. Your mind is running with thoughts of telling your daughter that her father was back from the work trip, but he got hurt. He didn’t look like the last time she saw him.

“Yu, we have to talk.” You said while stopping at the red light. You look in the rearview mirror, watching her snack on the sweet treat. Mentally, you’re cursing your friend for giving her sweets so close to dinnertime—but maybe that would help her process the burdening news.

She glances at you with a smile. A toothless one because Nanami lost one of her front teeth after biting an apple while she was going. Another moment Nanami has missed. You broke eye contact with her to continue to drive, and you could even see the familiar driveway of your home.

“Is daddy finally coming back?” Yu asked. You could hear her kicking her feet, and you simply sighed.

You were turning into the driveway and parking the car. You unbuckled your seat so you could turn to look at her. Her curious expression looked rather adorable with the taiyaki crumbs on them. You knew you couldn’t lie to her. Ignoring her question, you exited the car and helped her out. You figured it would be better to be closer to her when you dropped the colossal bomb that could alter how she sees her father. Closing the car door and kneeling to her height, “Sweetie, I need to tell you something about your father.”

Yu’s head tilted in confusion, and her eyes shone with curiosity and fear. Your hands would give her a comforting squeeze, tugging the coils out her face that fell out of the red headband Yuji brought her on one of his free days from being a sorcerer student.

“Daddy got hurt badly at work.” You tried to explain, but your voice seemed to crack in the back of your throat as you tried not to cry. This hurt.

“Your dad was hurt really bad, and I just wanted to let you know that you must take it easy on him. He’s still your dad, who will protect you no matter what.” You rubbed your thumb against her cheek brushing away any crumbs off her face.

Yu only give you a nod. The five-year-old had to comprehend that something happened so quickly that she didn’t even know if she should be asking more questions. She was one curious kid that always had a question about something. You opened the front door holding onto Yu’s hand, and the house seemed too quiet other than the sounds from the dining room. You glance down at Yu and lead her to the kitchen; you can’t help but chuckle at the sight.

Nanami set the table slowly; he didn’t even notice that two of his favorite girls had returned. You felt Yu grip your hand harder at the sight as you cleared your throat to get his attention just in time as he set the last place at the table. When he looked up and saw the two of you, you gave him a reassuring smile. It was okay. It was a huge step, but it was okay. The skin on the right side of his body was bare and burnt and could be considered quite distracting to people who walked by him when he went to physical therapy. His mangled scars traveled up from the side of his face and down to his foot. His right eye was covered with a black eye patch as he stared at his wife and Yu.

Yu’s mouth gasped open as she clutched to your pants leg. You didn’t want to nudge her forward; you were aching to know what was running through your daughter’s mind. Yu’s eyes seemed to be eyeing Nanami, who was standing before them. Nanami feared what his daughter would do and how she would react. He was afraid that his daughter wouldn’t recognize him due to the permanent scars he now had on his body. His palms grew sweaty at the silence in the kitchen. He still remembered the conversation you two had before all of this. He couldn’t shutter away in fear in a situation like this, and it was something Mahito would want.

Yu finally detached herself from your pants, dropping the snack she once was eating and running to hug her father’s leg. The sight shocked you as you watched Nanami lift her in his arms and pull her close. Yu’s small arms wrapped around Nanami’s neck as she started to cry. Your eyes began to burn with your tears, quickly going to swipe them away before you became an emotional wreck. You were happy to see her show that emotion to you and Nanami.

Yu lifts from the crook of Nanami’s neck to say through sniffles, “Daddy, I can’t believe you’re a pirate now.”

You chuckled at her statement before speaking, “How about you two go get cleaned up, and I’ll put the food on the table.”

Nanami put Yu down, and he extended his hand for her to take so she could lead him to the bathroom so they could get ready for dinner. A warm feeling overwhelmed your heart watching Yu drag him away, but she did it so gently, considering that Nanami still used a cane to help him walk better to his destination. You let them get cleaned up while you cleaned up the snack your daughter dropped and finished setting the table.

Dinner felt like a nostalgic feeling—a nice nostalgic feeling that made you smile so hard. Yu was telling you about all the adventures she went on while you were away, from going to the countryside with Nanami’s parents to going to a pig cafe with your friend. She had so many stories to tell that she must have been holding in to tell the two of you.

“And I lost my tooth.” She grins at the two of you as she lets her tongue glides across the place where one of her teeth once was.

“I’m sure the tooth fairy came and visited you,” Nanami adds.

“Yeah,” Yu placed her fork down to dig into her pockets, and she pulled out her yen bills. “Then I also made a new friend at school.”

“You’re one social butterfly,” You said aloud, sipping your water.

“He’s so nice but has an ugly imaginary friend.” Yu shoved her mouth with vegetables leaving both Nanami, and yourself stunned at her words.

“Sweetheart, it’s not very nice to call someone ugly. Even if it’s an imaginary friend.” Nanami glances at his daughter, who lets out a familiar dramatic sigh he has heard from you.

The blonde-haired male tends to forget that his daughter had a carbon copy of your personality. He watches as she pushes her vegetables around her plate before speaking again, “It’s just his imaginary friend who makes weird noises, and it looks like they make my friend unhappy.” Yu explained

Nanami’s head tilts in curiosity, hearing his daughter describe something he was acquainted with. His hold on the fork tightened as he realized what his child was describing, and his stomach formed the most monstrous knots. He took a sip of water as he watched you grab hold of his hand and give it a nice squeeze.

“How long have you been seeing this imaginary friend?” You asked.

“Hm, since Monday,” Yu admitted.

“How about we invite your friend over? Hm?” Nanami asked.

“Really?” Yu questioned excitedly.

You made eye contact with Nanami. You didn’t want him to push himself so much that he was uncomfortable. “Are you sure about that?” You questioned as you collected Yu’s plate in front of her.

“It’s okay.” Nanami gives you a grin. “We’ll just have to ask the little guy's parents, that’s all.”

Dinner continued with laughs and stories. Yu was so excited just to see her two parents together again. She couldn’t stop discussing everything she wanted to show you and Nanami. Even as you wrapped up dinner and told her to get ready for bed—she begged Nanami to help her. Due to Nanami being the girl dad he was, he couldn’t resist that charming smile and the puppy dog eyes Yu gave him when she wanted her way.

“I’ll meet you in our room when I’m done. Make sure she brushes her teeth.” You smile as Nanami pecks your lips and watches him disappear towards the stairs with your energetic daughter.

NANAMI’S FINGERS GRASPED AT THE FLUFFY PINK TEDDY BEAR AFTER HE HAD TUCKED YU IN. Nanami Kento hasn't done this in months. He hadn't tucked his daughter in and placed a soft kiss upon her forehead in months, and the feeling felt so foreign to him even though he had held her so close when she was only a tiny baby. Or the fact that he witnessed her take first steps towards not him or his lovely wife Y/N, but freakin’ Gojo. Then Nanami couldn’t forget holding her hand as he walked into her first dance class.

Yu looked at him as if he was the whole world—as if he was her protector and knight in the fairytale world that she dreamt about. Now, the guilt and the harsh stab in his heart hit him that he possibly wasn’t strong enough to protect her however he wanted. How can he protect something he promised to protect when she was just a baby now that his scarred hands shook doing simple tasks like tying his shoes, and when he closed his eyes, his nightmares were filled with him.

“Daddy?” Yu broke the blonde-haired male out of his thoughts as she looked at him. “Where’d you go? Mommy said you went away for work.”

He sits on her bed, and his weight causes the mattress to sink. He felt that question was coming; she just didn’t feel comfortable asking just yet. “Yes, I did. I just got hurt while doing so,” His lips form a reassuring grin that he hopes she will return.

Instead, her chocolate brown hues only lit up in curiosity. It was a look he had seen in Y/N’s eyes many times when he stepped into the medical room at the Kyoto school. Yu snuggles closer to the teddy bear in her arms before asking, “Does it hurt? Mommy can make you feel better with her mommy powers, or Auntie Shoko can help you..” She then flashes Nanami a smile, and it just hits Nanami that his little girl was missing one of her front teeth.

She extended her hand, and Nanami’s scarred one held on to it. He watched her small thumb rub against his hand with a small smile. “I missed you, Daddy.” Her eyes start to water, and the waterworks begin.

He cradles her in his arms so tightly, similar to when she was only a tiny baby in his arms years ago. Nanami didn’t want to let go. He held onto his daughter until she fell asleep with dried tears staining her cheeks. When he tucked her in tightly with her favorite stuffed teddy bear next to her, he placed a kiss on her forehead.

“I will protect you forever, no matter what, princess.”

After those words, he knew she probably wouldn’t remember, he turned off her room light. The only thing that illuminated Yu's room was a nightlight plugged up near her bed while Nanami closed the door just a bit for it to be cracked.

Nanami settled in bed after showering. With one of his favorite books in his hand, he didn’t even notice that Y/N had skipped into the room after checking on Yu one last time before bed. The oversized Star Trek shirt that once was owned by Nanami hugged your figure, and with each step, you took to climb into bed—Nanami could get a glance at the cup of your butt.

Y/N climbed into bed, and Nanami expected her to snuggle up close to him like she usually does when he reads before bed. She’ll always tell him how comforting his voice is when he reads aloud to her. Subtle jokes about how he could have been a speech coach or something instead of fighting curses. He wished his life was as simple as that. Instead of being scouted to go to a school to fight curses, he would have lived an everyday life. He would meet Y/N in a hospital in another life because now that he’s been married to her for years, he couldn’t fathom another life where she wasn’t a part of it.

Nanami’s chocolate brown hues scanned over the words of the book he was wearing as he felt the weight of Y/N climbing on top of him. Her tummy was now supporting his book as she glanced down at him, and when his eyes finally looked up from his book—his lips formed a crescent moon-shaped smile at the sight. She hadn’t wrapped her hair yet, so her kinky coils were sprawled all over her head like a golden crown.

“I missed you, you know? I missed this.” She says as her teeth grind against the plump lower lip.

Nanami folded the corner of the page; he stopped reading and closed the book. He placed the book on the oak-colored nightstand, and his hands found comfort on Y/N’s waist. “Me too.” He answered truthfully.

“I can tell, Ken,” Y/N says lowly as her hips rock against Nanami’s bulge, which displays how much he had missed his wife since his months of being away.

His fingers tiptoed up the shirt, but he soon snatched his scarred hand away in embarrassment. The insecure feeling of his rough and tainted fingers caressing something so soft as his face grows red. Y/N’s eyebrows raised in confusion because he didn’t want to touch her. She didn’t take offense to it, considering that she knew this was something Nanami would have to get used to. That half of his body was permanent with scars that she would help him love.Y/N tugged her shirt over her head, tossing it on the floor. Her hand grasped Nanami’s scarred one and she kissed his knuckles before placing his hand on one of her breasts.

“It’s okay. I want your touch. I crave your touch.” Y/N says. She guided Nanami’s hand up and down her soft brown skin before she began to rock her hips again. She knew Nanami was enjoying because, through the curls that fell in her face with each rock of her hips, she saw how his chocolate brown eyes lit up. “And I can tell you’re craving my touch also. You’ve missed me so much, didn’t you?”

Nanami’s words were so caught up in his throat that he didn’t even know how to respond. His mind couldn’t focus on everything all at once because he wanted to do so much for Y/N. His scarred index and middle finger rolled her nipples in between them, gaining a moan from her, and it hit him hard at how much he missed this. He missed seeing how Y/N’s eyes fluttered close in pure bliss when he touched and kissed her. He’s so eager to get out of his boxers that he didn’t even catch the way she had some shit-eating grin on her face.

But it was another thing that Nanami adored. He adored seeing that expression on Y/N’s face when he finally slid in. The way she would chew on her lower lip to muffle a moan when he had only slipped his tip inside her. Which only would cause Nanami to finally shove his cock further inside her just to hear her yelp out his name and have that dreamy expression on her face.

That same expression she had on her face right now that Nanami’s cock was inside of her. A look of affection that the retired sorcerer missed so much. His hand grasped her waist, guiding Y/N’s hips in a pleasurable, rhythmic pace for both of them. Y/N props her hand on Nanami’s chest to help her balance upon riding him. Moans trembled out her mouth with each roll of her hips, and she had only had Nanami on her mind. It was quite strange how he could plague her brain like a catchy summer tune. That was just the type of spell he had on her.

Nanami tried his best to thrust upward just to hit the spot that had Y/N speaking one of the languages she knew, but it had only taken a toll on his body, and Y/N noticed immediately.

“I got it, Ken. Just relax.” Y/N’S leaning down, kissing at the corner of his lips (specifically the side that’s decorated with burn marks and soon his lips as she cocked to bounce upon his cock. “I know you want to ensure I’m getting more out of this than you.” She adds.

“Y/N…” Nanami breathed out. “I just want to make—”

His words were cut off by her, “Make sure I orgasm; when do you not make me orgasm?” She glances down at him.

“Can I take care of you for once? Hm?” She asked that question with a roll of her hips for each word and syllable that left that pretty mouth of hers.

And Nanami’s brain turned into mush, his face got so hot, and his balls grew heavier. The only answer he could give to Y/N was, “Fuck.”

“Good answer.” She cockily responds before her hand reaches at the headboard to help her ride him some more.

The mess built between their naked bodies was driving Nanami insane but in a good way. After months of being touch-deprived due to surgeries and physical therapy, he needed this. He relaxed under Y/N; he let her take control until he could feel himself about to cum.

“I’m about to—Shit,” Nanami uttered. Before he could say anything else, Y/N could feel the thick ropes of cum shooting inside of her. She’s leaning down, capturing his lips upon his and slowly grinding against him to ensure his cum stays inside of her.

When the kiss broke apart, Nanami looked up at his wife as if he had hearts in his eyes. “I fuckin’ love you.”

“I love you too,” Y/N giggles through her subtle pants.

With the Star Trek shirt back on Y/N’s body, which was now stained with the scent of Nanami and sweat, she glances over at her husband, who is sincerely thinking about something. She hoped he still wasn’t thinking about the scars on his body. “What’s on your mind?” She glances up at him through her eyelashes.

“Yu can see curses now.” Nanami looked at his wife. “She’s only five.” He adds with a sigh.

Y/N hated to admit that her assumptions of what their daughter told them during dinner were accurate. She felt like Yu was too young to see them and finally realized that her world was much different than her friends in class. But Yu had two amazing parents. Two parents would guide her through this. Due to Nanami being the wonderful husband he was, it was as if he read Y/N’s mind.

With a sly grin and a quick, playful peck on the tip of Y/N’s nose, he says, “We’ll guide her through it, though.”

━━ ♡ // @maydayaisha @eiflawriting @unknownspecies @violxtbxbyy @kama-star @superluckystar @minniecums @neesiewrote @lisia-primary @plopifuee @discobeachbarbie @yeagerfushiguro @dontmockwhatilove @omb-lnn @sukunasdirtylaugh @zu8her @loveupeople @atiny-dazzlinglight @p00pdev1l @macxera @onlybambibambi @dior-fawn @sleepysnorlaxsblog @mstsukii @jujutsukaisenfan @adcree @aichaaa @sexlapis @syomi @si00p @madness1999sworld @pt6dio @daisynik7 @woahhajime @blaxxbutterfly

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