A story about two people lost in the middle of arrangement not one of them wished for. It's about power and danger, hate and love. Will they find a happy ending?
Contents & warnings: arranged marriage, sorcery, idiots searching for love, swear words, nsfw themes — please read warnings to each piece, reader discretion is advised
ART: @orukkart
have an idea for an entry? let me know in ask box!
Summary: Before Jing Yuan was the general of the Luofu, he was just another kid who would play with wooden swords and bugs; a menace who was always ready to prove himself as a Cloud Knight. And besides him? A girl from the Alchemy Commission who was always ready to annoy him in his endeavors.
Warnings: Mentions of war, gore, death, there is an NSFW part (when both characters are adults), so fingering, smut
Word count: 11,300+
A loud, cheery voice called out “one, seventeen, five hundred and seventy two,” as a blade swung in the air. The rustle of clothes coming with each move, every practiced hit to a non existent enemy having a random number sang out into the air to match it. No chirping bird nestled in the trees to be had as the source of the voice had long since scared them all away. “Nine hundred and ninety nine, fifty six!”
And with each shout Jing Yuan was repeating the number he was actually on in his head, trying not to let a certain annoyance distract him as she has done so many times before. (Y/n)’s antics just as familiar as the spot he found himself training in. Cracked stones with bits of moss growing between the once upon a time smooth concrete, a red tree providing shade from the blaring sun, and a bench only five feet away currently supporting a girl with her hands to her mouth, trying to echo out each word.
“Sixty nine! Two thousand one hundred and five!”
Her green dress was tell enough that this girl was from the alchemy commission, but they both already knew that, the details of swirling clouds so unlike the ones above the two providing shade. A shadow cast out over the courtyard helping keep the air just cool enough that a light breeze would have anyone considering fetching a sweater. Well, anyone not in the middle of a training session.
“You are being a nuisance.”
Per usual.
Bringing his sword back up to practice another swing Jing Yuan tried his best to ignore the taunting words just begging him to chase her around the small space, again. “Oh, big word for a little guy. Jingliu teach you that one recently?”
“What if she did? Master is-”
“Three hundred eighty six.”
“Master is-”
“Seventy nine.”
With a clamor Jing Yuan drops his sword in a way one could compare it to a knight getting his weapon knocked out of his hand in the heat of battle. A daunting enemy above him threatening to end his life with their own blade as he scurried to fetch it back in time before that looming presence, a terrifying face about to become the last thing his ten year old self sees. So like a prince charming in a fairy tale, his fingers would grasp the worn down hilt from the shape of his hand just in the knick of time, blocking the enemy’s strike. A triumphant hero. Except it was the complete opposite. The sword just fell to the ground from a slip of Jing Yuan’s fingers.
“Smooth moves, Yuan.”
“If you hadn't distracted me.”
“And what cloud knight is supposed to lose his weapon because a chicka said a few words?”
Jing Yuan had to stop himself from biting on the inside of his cheek or maybe even a scoff just so he could get out: “any knight should know that sometimes you will lose your weapon in combat and what really matters is what I do next.”
Like he could grab a hidden dagger! Or….”I could just take the blade of a defeated foe.”
“Like what? Those giant ones the mara use?” (Y/n) held a hand up above her head, waving it in the air to call extra attention to it, a habit from waiting to be called on in class after listening to someone drone on for hours at a time about the medicinal properties of lily of the valley or something of the like. “I've seen those before, and they're taller than both you and I, so good luck! You'd have to spin around in circles just to give the blade any force behind it.”
A small giggle fell from her lips as she pretended to swing a giant blade, mocking the same way she would see Jing Yuan use his own.
‘Just what in the world is she imagining?’
“Just admit it, evolution didn't choose you, short stuff. So you'll just be a knight in training even when you're five hundred years old.”
‘As if!’
Picking his blade back up Jing Yuan slid it away in its designated sheathe with a satisfying click, the glare from the metal no longer reflecting on the ground beneath him as the sun peaked out from behind the clouds. “I told you that I'm going to be taller than you one day. Besides, you're only four inches taller than me, that isn't a lot.”
“I feel like I can make a joke here but it might go over your head.”
“Nope! Nope!” Not wanting to hear it, Jing Yuan smacked his hands to his ears. Maybe it would be enough to block out her shrill voice even as (Y/n) got closer to try and pull them off and out of place. “Just because you had to earn about that stuff for your studies doesn't mean I want to hear it. Not again. Mom already gave me the talk and it was awful!”
“You're such a kid.”
“She was talking about things with things and wouldn't let me leave until I repeated it back to her.” Right after he had run to go try and wash his ears out by dunking his head in the water can outside his home in hopes of the water knocking the words loose.
“You're not helping your case here.”
“It doesn't matter! That stuff like kissing other people the way mom and dad do is so not on my agenda. That can be saved for your princess stories and other girly stuff.”
“Oh yeah?” A little grin curled at the corners of her lips, most likely due to having another retort right on the tip of her tongue. (Y/n) even got out the words “then why are you so huffy over this stuff” before being cut off with little to no mercy by a loud call of her name. A man’s voice shouting for the girl again and again, only drawing nearer with each passing second. “Shit! I-I mean shoot. Shoot.”
Dropping his hands he stood there watching the panic come to her face. Only slightly smug. “Sure you did.”
“You're not helping!”
Quickly her form ran over to the courtyard's many walls, green dress fluttering behind as those little legs scurried around in a panic. Her voice only picked up in speed as (Y/n) tried to get the situation out, and understood, as fast as possible. “Yuan, I have to go right now. I left without permission again.”
‘Of course she did. Probably to get out of those talks about being switched out to advanced classes.’
“Hoist me up!”
“And why should I? You've been doing nothing but trying to get under my skin this entire time.”
Again, another call of her name sounded. Haize’s voice becoming clearer and clearer. A man Jing Yuan had only come across in passing when trying to drag a certain nuisance into playing with him. Or, a better way to put it, (Y/n)’s master.
“You motherf- I'll owe you!” Her hands were scrambling at the bricks on the wall, trying to find just the right ones to use for purchase. As if that's how scaling a flat wall would work, like rock climbing. Sure. “Just help me up or for the Reignbow Arbiter sake!”
He couldn't help the chuckle he was trying, and failing, to fight back from escaping, not with how quickly she did a 180. From teasing the life out of him (per usual) to now looking like she would plead like her life is on the line. Though with master Haize it was hard to tell, he could very well deal out writing the same sentence a thousand times over worse. At least that's one of the lighter one's Jing Yuan has heard about.
‘One shall not leave the alchemy commission without permission’ with each ‘I’ dotted with one of her hastily drawn hearts.
“Why should I? I think this is simply karma.” Despite his words Jing Yuan was already coming over to help, eyes going up and down the wall to figure out the best way to go about it.
“You little- I'll owe you, okay?”
“I know you will.”
And just like those five years ago, when they were both kids running amok trying to help one of them escape from an unjust punishment, (Y/n)’s shoe fell between his interlocked hands to his shoulder as she managed to swing a leg over gray tiles of the walls roofing. Admittedly it was a bit of a blessing that at least this time she didn't have to step on his head to get that proper step up. Last time that left a good mark of dirt in what was otherwise Jing Yuan's pure white hair as she scrambled away with a wide eyes scanning over the courtyard like she was expecting her master to pop out of thin air and a quick “see ya!”
Now though? (Y/n) was looking down at him from up high, her hand held out to help him up to follow her.
“And why are we sneaking into one of the alchemy commissions gardens when you have full access to go here?” This entire thing didn't really make sense to him, but here he was playing along even as the scent of flowers hit Jing Yuan in a way that was comparable to a woman accidently spraying her perfume in your face.
“Because, esteemed Jing Yuan, you're not allowed back here. And we have to do something to celebrate you officially becoming a cloud knight.”
Grabbing her hand the very same ‘esteemed knight’ pulled himself up and along beside her with very little help besides a tug or two to his blue sleeves. The uniform he now gets the privilege to wear with a red ribbon Jing Yuan ties around his waist every morning with pride after years of work and swinging that same blade over and over again. He swears that if he took a moment to just sit there and close his eyes while this menace of a woman jumps down into the garden below that he could feel the grip in his palm.
That is until his eyes shoot open as he hears a grunt and sees her figure kneeling on the ground, one of her hands brushing dirt off her face. Failing at that too, but for now she doesn't need to know that.
“Smooth moves.”
“Shut it.”
Jumping down after her, in a proper landing, Jing Yuan helps her up as (Y/n) huffs.
“But my point still stands, cloud knight.” Knocking a hand against his chest she turned back to the garden before them. An array of colors. Each petal is like a brush stroke on a canvas. “You got to your big goal, so we should celebrate.”
“Many of the other trainees after getting accepted were shooting the breeze with shaoxing glasses in their hands, and you choose a flower field you know like the back of your hand to take me to?”
“Fine, don't appreciate it. But I at least thought it would be nice. It's been a while since you've been allowed back here after you ruined a flower bed.”
“And last I recall you're the one that pushed me into said flower bed.”
“Anyway-” trying and failing to hide her laughter at what was most likely the memory of tripping Jing Yuan straight into a pile of dirt and seeds before her fellow classmates (Y/n) bent down so she could properly look at the blossoms before her. She probably knew every little detail about that flower, but Jing Yuan couldn't place it as anything more than just another pink one.
‘Anyway, she says.’
“Since when did it hurt to stop and smell the roses? Besides, if anyone catches us I'm just here….getting a few herbs I need to dry out for a project I have planned out. The number in my dorm has been dwindling.”
Moving besides her he sat down on the wooden walk set up to make sure no one would repeat his mistake so many years ago of mistaking where the path ended and patch started. At least that's the lie this one who thinks proper decor is bottles full of potions ultimately decided on before their scolding began. Jing Yaun’s boots making a hefty clunk as he settled down.
“And not even a drink to be had?”
“Yuan, wait until you're older. I shouldn't have to go over the repercussions of drinking before your prefrontal lobe has fully matured with you. I'll do it too.” Another huff. “It's very important for you not to touch a drop before your behavioral patterns-”
“Is this you talking or the lessons you've learned, prodigy?”
“Ha. Ha. Ha.”
Plucking one of the flower's petals off she held the fragile thing up, studying the veins as she held it up to the full moon. The only source of proper lighting to be had when neither of you could afford to turn on the ones for the garden without being caught. Who knows what trouble could be had for you two from this even with her supposed foolproof excuse for being here.
“Carnations. You've probably seen a few as decorations at those fancy tea houses, the ones we've seen those Foxian ladies favoring so much. These can be used for their anti-inflammatory properties if you're in short supply of the normal pain meds the commission makes. A poor substitution in my book, but it's best to always have something extra on hand just in case.”
Raising his hands up Jing Yuan brings them together a few times in a short round of applause. She always did look so intense when bent over work tables with mixtures of all sorts at her fingertips, eyebrows knit together just as they are now. “You really do sound like a proper healer when you go off about this. Shame I know you for mainly cussing when you stub your toe.”
“A lady is allowed to express herself!”
“‘Lady.’”
“‘Cloud knight.’”
“You can't use that on me anymore now that it's true.”
It takes a moment, her eyes on him in silence before finally relenting and muttering a short “touche” he almost missed.
Taking the petal from those hands lacking the calloused his have Jing Yuan pinched it softly, trying to view the one little piece of life the same way she seemed to. A well of endless possibilities that could be made into something more than just a woman's perfume. “Say, I think it's time I cash in one of the many favors you owe me.”
“And what favor do I owe you, big guy?”
“Ah, someone's still petty I grew taller than them.” Chuckling Jing Yuan looked up from the petal to a face that still had the slightest smear of dirt on its cheek, barely seen in this lowlight. “What happened to those precious three inches you had on me?”
“It was four.”
“Three inches.”
“Well, it's perfectly normal for a young man to be tall. If anything it's just a sign you were able to grow up strong and healthy despite all the times you slid your fried cabbage on my plate.”
Something she had let him do on multiple occasions as they shared a table at either the alchemy commission when everything was stuffed full of nutrients and seemingly without a sprinkle of sugar or at his family home as Jing Yuan’s mom always slipped them an extra dessert whenever (Y/n) was over.
“Well, uh…”
‘Okay, it seems we're getting off track here.’
“You owe me for helping you escape Haize when you were thirteen.”
“No, I gave you my desserts for a week in recompense. It's been paid off already, Yuan. Try again.”
Huh. Tilting his head at that his eyes rolled up to the star covered sky. The Luofu was on its night cycle meaning they could properly see the galaxy beyond the blue hue and clouds that would be overcast during the day time.
“It's pretty, isn't it?” A hand pushed his shoulder, not nearly enough to knock Jing Yuan down to the wooden path but it had him rocking in place for a moment. Tall but lanky as a certain healer had described him, right after saying he needs to eat more, then he'd properly fill out once he ages up and grows out of the awkward teenage phase. “Just say what you want. I'm fine with you owing me for once.”
“Of course you are.”
And of course he shoved her shoulder right back.
“Can you tell me what it's like to see a mara-struck up close? If I'm to meet one in combat I should know what I'm going into, and master Jingliu can only help so much.”
‘Master has only one perspective.’
“Good to know you're not so over confident that you're rushing into battle with your sword raised for a charge. I didn't know you had a brain in there.”
“Seriously? You- Just back to my question.” Jing Yuan snapped.
“Okay. Fine. Impatient much. The thing is with your question…It's simply not a fair comparison.” She took a moment, eyes going from between him to the flowers that surrounded them. Lavender, marigolds, chrysanthemums, and so so many more. A field. And if he asked Jing Yuan was sure (Y/n) could tell him the scientific names of each one without issue. “The one's I deal with are primed for dissection, not for a fight.”
A sigh.
“But, it's not pleasant. Master had me- let me try again. You know those gingko leaves that tree in the courtyard you used to always train in? How would they slowly turn from green to yellow only to fall off soon after?”
“I would always be tasked with cleaning them up. Part of my ‘due diligence’ and training in patience. I'm pretty sure though it was just master Jingliu not wanting to clean it up herself.”
“Well,” a small giggle came from her at that, “someone needed to do it. And if I caught you sweeping I'd always fetch a broom and spend the afternoon helping you catch up on chores.”
‘And she would always hold it over my head after.’
“I loved gingko leaves when we were younger, because they made me think of you and those moments where we were threatening to hit each other over the head with those old brooms that probably couldn't even handle a single strike. I would pick one out from the dustpan and keep it stored away in one of the many pots in my room. Like they were precious.”
“Is rambling included at this time to stop and smell the roses?” He couldn't help the little grin that came to him, lips quirked up at the edges with absolutely no effort to stop it.
“Don't interrupt me if you're the one who wants an answer. No lecturer wants a student that can't shut their fucking trap.”
“Okay, okay.” Raising his hands in surrender was automatic at this point after hearing just that pissed off voice alone. “Go on, teacher.”
“Thank you. For the Reignbow Arbiter’s sake. So,” (Y/n) clapped her hands together, calling attention to herself despite the fact Jing Yuan was already paying more than enough to her, “back to my point.”
“The thing is…After my first dissection, even with master Haize watching over the entire procedure, I couldn't look at the mara-struck all at once. I was supposed to dissect it like a frog, something I've done dozens of times before, but I couldn't even just take a step back to look at the thing properly. It was a task to be objective.”
‘Couldn't look at them? Was it someone she once knew?’
“When I finally did it was at the end of the process when the master said I could wash off, and there I stood by the sink with those stupid blue rubber gloves covered in the coagulated blood of a dead body and gingko leaves.”
“I couldn't think about them the same way anymore.” Her head dropped. Eyes downcast on the very hands that had cut and opened up what was essentially, or at least should be, a corpse. “The abominations are so different from us, Yuan.”
“I know.”
Even the thought of those creatures could ruin a night like this it seems, one full of their usual antics and trouble seeking habits. The mara-struck, an inevitable fate for all Xianzhou natives if death doesn't take them first.
“Maybe you were right, maybe a drink to go with this night of celebration would have been better. Then we could be cheering about something stupid and-”
His hand was raised, reaching out to her, only stopping midway when (Y/n) glanced up at him with a disapproving stare; most likely for interrupting her or getting caught off track despite all the times she's done so to him. “And you were just getting on my case about it earlier too. Frontal lobe..something or another.” And he wiped the dirt he had been letting stick to her without a word off. The grainy texture is a sharp contrast to her own smooth skin.
“You- how long has that been there without you telling me?”
“Since you fell off the wall.”
“I didn't fall, I jumped.”
“Are you sure about that, prodigy?”
She swatted his hand away, much like she was dealing with a pesky bug flying around near her ear.
“I hope you know that when you get hurt on the field, and you inevitably will because all you knights do at one point, they will bring you back to me. When that happens, I will make sure that whatever injury you acquired will somehow end in my fellow healers being convinced they need to chop one of your limbs off due to risk of infection. You will be at my mercy, Jing Yuan.”
‘Great, another threat.’
She's made hundreds of threats since the moment they met varying from some that had Jing Yuan stumbling over himself in shock to wondering if the best she could do was smack him over the head. Especially when he's still getting taller. Who knows, maybe one of those days she'll have to ask him to lean down for her just to be met with a solid hit to the head. The thought alone had him laughing.
“Yeah, I know.”
“Hey! What's so funny you two bit bitch?”
“You don't need to worry about it.”
Taking one of those pink carnations Jing Yuan plucked the stem from the ground, not bothering to mind the dirt when his fingers were already dusted with it. Fragile petals and a soft hue. It truly was just a flower in his eyes, but somehow it looked like more than that as he tucked it behind (Y/n)’s ear as she scolded him for picking something without permission.
It was two years later Jing Yuan found himself holding a bouquet of the very same flowers after toiling over the best way to do this for hours, but they seemed only fitting. The shop owner he bought them from was nice enough to wrap them in those sheets of paper used for…well, decoration? And a red ribbon much like the very one in his hair.
The only difference being from when he bought them ten minutes ago to now is how the long stems had been wrangled as he clutched them tight in his sweating hand.
And her, staring up at them.
“Happy Luofu alliance day to you too.”
“You're all the way out here instead of joining in on the festivities?”
Papers were scattered all around her like a blanket on the grass, some clearly torn out from their notebooks as pages were frayed at the ends and others were slightly yellowed from years of use and spills of what is most likely more than just coffee stains. Scribbled notes that had Jing Yuan careful not to step on one and leave a footprint behind (for fear of being scolded, again) as he caught glimpses of diagrams, highlighted margins, and sketches of organs as he walked closer to her.
“There will be countless more years to spend in the Dragonvista Rain Hall. For now, I want to spend my one free day organizing my notes.” As she spoke (Y/n) lifted up the notebook that had been on her lap in the air.
“Your ‘one free day’ being a holiday you're required to take off.”
‘Yet here she is working.’
Glancing up Jing Yuan’s eyes fell on the tree she was sitting under. Foliage far from dense enough to keep the occasional sun beam peaking through the leaves as they cast golden rays on her green dress; still wearing her alchemy commission uniform, even now.
“Did you not have to be dragged to classes once kicking and screaming?”
She would even cling onto his arm, shouting for the future cloud knight to protect the poor damsel in distress from the fearsome bad guy. That being Haize as he plucked her up from the ground and carried her out of the courtyard like a disgruntled cat. Jing Yuan’s ear would be ringing for the rest of the day, but it was always worth it seeing her so pissed off after purposefully being a frustrating little brat. Teasing him like no tomorrow.
“Times change, Yuan.” She said, her words full of laughter. “Though, I did see this poster earlier about some foxian theater troupe putting on a performance. Epic of the Old Verdant House, if I remember it right.”
“That explains why we can hear drum chanting all the way out here.”
A melodic beat full of energy that matched the chatter of the crowds down below. From here he could see the lanterns hanging off of every pillar they could and tops of tents full of wares with people being waved in to 'come and see what we're selling, benefactors.’
“Sure does….say, I'm surprised you have the day off. Shouldn't an esteemed cloud knight be going around patrolling the streets to help keep the peace? I thought you'd jump at the chance to try and show your dedication, yet here you are not even in uniform.”
Standing there in everyday wear without a single piece of armor Jing Yuan shifted his hanfu sleeve, the fabric stretching only to fall back as he let go. It wouldn't hinder him, but it certainly wasn't his usual garb.
“I switched out my shift with that kid you helped last week.” Though she had many patients. It wouldn't surprise him if (Y/n) had forgotten about the event entirely. Things do tend to start blurring together when it's the same day after day, or at least that's what she says. “The one who got all bruised up in training, Aiguo?”
She hummed at that, seemingly to take a moment to recall. “The blond? For a cloud knight he sure does bruise easily.”
“He does…” The flowers in his hand were only wrangled up further as this conversation continued. This was besides the point. “So, rewriting your old notes then instead of going to that performance? I might have to grab a rose so you're forced to stop and smell them.”
Her eyes flicked up to him and he had to grip onto those already wrangled stems even harder to keep himself from simply choking the words out in his haste. A few white knuckles were easy enough to stand in favor of making this right.
“It's a better use of my time then watching you try and catch a goldfish at one of those scooping games again. I'm pretty sure by the time you were out of credits to waste away the vendor and I had become dear friends.”
He couldn't help but raise a brow at that. The only reason he was trying so hard in the first place was because only a week before she was forced to get rid of her pet scorpion. Ingredients had been found in her dorm by a supervisor, and after an apparently long meeting, it was determined the thing had to go despite her begging to just let him stay in the alchemy commission.
“It was rigged.” He said, slightly shrugging as he did so.
“All carnival games are rigged. That's the point.”
‘True, but at least it got her laughing. Even if it was at my expense.’
“Or, and hear me out on this, Yuan. It could also be that you just suck.”
“Thank you, so much.”
“Oh you're so very welcome.” Picking some of the sheets of paper up she tucked them between the pages of her notebook. Brand new but it was already covered in dirty fingerprints. No doubt from her collecting samples to tie into the pages as he could already see some of her old notes with a dried out jimson weed (if he recalled the name correctly) pinned down with thin metal wire keeping it in place. “I just don't have the time to do this any other day.”
“So.” stepping in closer to her spot under the tree Jing Yuan kneeled before her, making sure they were eye to eye even if she wasn't paying him the same amount of attention he was her. “If I asked you to come down and watch me struggle to catch you another fish?”
“And do you have the credits to spend on something so lavish?”
“I can spare a few.”
“I…I'm busy. I want to get this done.”
“And I can get you some osmanthus jelly.” Lifting the bouquet up, Jing Yuan held it up to her, the end of the red ribbon softly swaying from the movement. “You preach to me the importance of taking a break but you can't take one yourself?”
“You know I hate when you use my words against-”
And her words were drowned out by the loud sound of an engine, of a starskiff racing on by as fast as it could go. A familiar sound that would normally have Jing Yuan nodding to himself at the sight, taking in the beauty of such skilled piloting, but right now it only had him spitting out hair from his mouth as it whipped right into his face. White filled his vision as papers flew before his very eyes. A specimen of belladonna seen for only a moment before it trailed off, caught in the strong breeze the ship kicked up.
“No! No, no, no!”
Like confetti the notes she had spent years on flew away. Not even her hands snatching to grab anything proved fruitful as she scrambled up to pluck anything from the blue sky. Her fingertips barely grazed a sheet completely covered in yellow marker over the written margins before it fell to the crowd below.
Multiple people down below dressed in their finest attire, the festival masks, and waving their fans to keep cool in the generated heat of the Luofu's system were caught looking up and around them as the notes fell all around them. Ranging from the rooftops to the streets as those years she spent were tread over with little to no care, like they were nothing more than posters advertising something or another, as (Y/n) whined at the sight.
“Fuck!”
As Jing Yuan pulled the last bits of hair from his mouth he could see her flipping off the direction the pilot flew off in, even as it was long gone.
“Fuck you you punk ass bitch! Come back here before I shove a catheter up your dick!”
“Interesting insult.”
Grabbing a sheet of parchment from the branches of the tree, only a few of them stuck in there, Jing Yuan held it out to her.
“I hate this fucking household.”
Sighing Jing Yuan looked back at the paper in his hand as she just pouted at the sight of it. There goes his chance to confess it seems. Another day then.
“Come on prodigy, I'll help you find everything we can. It doesn't matter if it means spending the entire Alliance day peaking into alleyways or climbing over crates.”
“Just another favor I'll owe you.” She grabbed the paper from him as she spoke, fingers going over that messy handwriting that was no doubt scrawled down in a rush to get everything in her mind to a proper record. “Years of work.”
“No, there's no….”
‘No need for a favor.’
“Actually.” The flowers were over by the tree now, forgotten in the midst of what just happened, but did he really need them right now? Sure, this wasn't how Jing Yuan had been wanting this to go down, but what did those hours before the mirror practicing what to say as his friend, a fellow Cloud Knight, mean in retrospect when she was pouting like this? “I'd like to cash in that favor now. I’m going to ask you something and I don't want you to immediately say no. Take your time to think about it.”
“Now that's a big ask.” She said, grip tightening a little bit more to the point the paper started to crinkle under her touch. Maybe she was worried it would grow wings and fly away on her too.
“I know.”
Grabbing her hand, careful to make sure his actions did not tear anything, Jing Yuan squeezed it softly. She had no calluses made from the efforts of swinging a blade, of wielding a weapon. No, they were soft from the amount of lotion she used from always applying some after washing her hands again and again once she was done making some new medication or concoction or another thing of the like. Somehow that made it all the easier to hold her just like this.
“The next Alliance festival, I want to go together not as friends, or two people trying to find your notes, but as eachothers date.”
“No.”
“Now that's not taking your time-”
“Ask me again later, when I'm in a better mood; and pick an event that will happen sooner than a once a year festival.”
‘Oh…. Oh!’
Squeezing her hand a bit tighter Jing Yuan asked: “will you go on a date with me sometime this month? We will have to figure something out between your busy schedule, prodigy.”
“I said, ask me later.”
“Technically it was ‘later,’ just by a few seconds.”
“This is the worst confession I have ever heard and I've seen people proposing on the medical beds when one of them is so drugged they can't even understand what is being said to them.”
After a moment she added in, “you still have to help me find my notes though, then I'll say yes. And I want a better confession too, like in those romance books. Give me a whole speech.”
“Are you seriously asking me to study those girly novels of yours?”
“Yes. Or no dice.”
“I- fine.”
‘To believe that years ago I'd cringe at the thought, but here I am agreeing to it just to satisfy this bossy woman.’
“You're always a headache.”
Later that day, after spending hours combing the city to find every last sheet they could manage, Jing Yuan tied the red ribbon around her pinky, admiring how it showed she was his as (Y/n) told him she'd find the time in her busy schedule to squeeze in one little outing.
And it was that very same hand he tied a ribbon to, that he grasped that day, the very same day he played in his head again and again with a smile that could never leave him at the memory, that is now threaded through Jing Yuan’s hair.
Tugging. Pulling. Unapologetically leaving knots he'd have to comb out later.
“Patience.”
“You've been saying that for the past ten minutes, Yuan.”
The way her voice came out slightly strained had his lips tugging up. Soft little pants he was drawing out of her from those pretty lips he yearned to kiss right now even as his own were sliding along her naked thigh. Tongue just barely lolling out to leave a small lick before retreating once again.
She'd call him a tease. Has been, actually. But Jing Yuan couldn't barely help himself when seeing her like this.
Blankets pushed off to the side and barely hanging off the edge of the bed that was cast in only the low glow of a lamp on a desk nearby. One covered in glass bottles full of things he's been warned not to touch, and he knew well enough to listen. It was enough to have his fingers gleaming as he pulled them away again.
Much to someone's dismay.
“Stop being mean to me. Please.”
Jing Yuan only hummed in response, not minding her begging much as his teeth just barely dug into her skin; the idea of leaving a mark was so, very, tempting. To know that under her skirts in the days to come would be proof of this moment in the dark.
Her thigh tensed in response, muscles flexing before falling back to a relaxed state as his lips ran over the imprints of her underwear he had been pulling and tugging at earlier left. A garment discarded as soon as his head dipped between her thighs, yet here she was urging him to give her more.
‘How greedy.’
But he is too as Jing Yuan’s cock strains against its confines. Fabric he'd usually consider loose, breathable, and easy to move in suddenly betraying him with every shift of his hips against this old mattress. Barely providing anything friction as he breathes in the scent of sex. Of slick. Of her need for him.
Just that alone had his hips bucking forward.
His gaze moved from the way she sucked his fingers in as they slid back inside her with a wet squelch up to those half lidded eyes that flicked between him and the ceiling.
“Yua-”
A chuckle fell from him as she chased after him, her breath hitching and eyes falling closed as his tongue slid between those lips he's never had a proper chance to taste before, and oh what he would do to let those legs wrap around his fluffy white head and eat a meal he's never had before for hours just to find what would make her unravel beneath him.
Would she call his name in those final moments with her toes curled the way they are now? Would she be clinging onto the sheets with a knuckle white grip? Would her chest heave as he watches those breasts still red from being tugged and teased at fall with every breath?
Yes, they were both greedy.
“I know you're doing that on purpose.” She finally managed to say between her whines and attempt to stifle them away under her free hand.
“Am I now?”
That accusatory glance had Jing Yuan curling his fingers over a soft spot that felt different from the rest, spongy even, as he tried his best to act innocent. Not very convincing when his words are muffled by her pussy, but it was a try nonetheless.
“F-fuck…”
“I can't help but think you liked that.”
It was a wonder she wasn't trying to kick him in some way, but maybe that's just because with every movement of his fingers her head was being thrown back into the white covers.
“Where do you…how do you even know where that is?”
“This?” Jing Yuan asked, fingers crooking even more by just the slightest amount to brush over that spot inside of her again.
(Y/n) didn't need to know the real answer to that, not when she wouldn't let him live it down if she ever found out. She'd get on him until his ears turned pink and she'd only make it worse by pinching them and saying something like “oh sweetie, you're looking sick. Maybe we should take your temperature, yeah?”
So no, he'd keep the fact that one of her fellow students in the alchemy commission went around to all the guys he knew were in a relationship during the mess hall. Lunch hour as silverware clattered against those metal food service plates while some young lad with a diagram of all things pointed out…well...where to touch a woman in exchange for a hundred credits in turn.
Money well spent in his opinion if it had her looking at him like that. Glazed over eyes enough to have Jing Yuan wanting to press a kiss to those soft lips. To let her know just how she tastes.
“Maybe I'm just a natural; a prodigy just like you.”
Wouldn't that be nice? To know just where to touch her to have his name cried out like a prayer. The Reignbow Arbiter an afterthought to his fingers, but he was willing to give her the rest of their lives together to figure this out. To have her melt in his embrace on all the nights they will have, just like this one where she sneaked him into her dorms.
The door didn't even creak on their way in.
He didn't even stop to do anything more than lock the door before Jing Yuan had pulled (Y/n) into his arms. Hands playing with the fabric of that green dress as it traced over the
gold accents on her chest all the way up to the clasp keeping it shut as their lips met in hurried kisses. One after another as she tugged him along through the bedroom to help keep those heavy boots of his from accidently kicking and knocking over anything of importance as they found their way between boxes of files to the bed.
Designs of swirling mist made Jing Yuan feel like he was on cloud nine as they slid up her thighs.
She rolled her eyes as he asked about her underwear, wanting to know if it was just for him. If she anticipated this happening and wanted to look her best for him.
The thought was a sweet one.
But right now that pair was tossed off somewhere long forgotten as his face was covered in her slick, and hands forcing her legs apart as she writhed beneath him.
How long could he take without breathing in some more air? The thought only came to Jing Yuan as his ears buzzed the same way they would after staying too long underwater. (Y/n) his lake he would willingly jump in even if it drowned him.
“Pr-prodigy my ass.”
A kiss to her trembling thigh, eyes locking with hers.
“Are you saying I'm not doing a good job?”
“Not at all.”
‘Sure. She's so snarky even like this.’
A whine, a plea for more met him as Jing Yuan pulled his fingers out. The curve of her plush ass he wanted to squeeze and grope at again covered in spittle and arousal just like his mouth.
Maybe if she was in a sane enough mind she'd be saying something like it's been twelve minutes now. That is if she ever got the chance as he kissed her again. Body hovering over hers, taking note of just how small she looked under him.
How easy it was to grab her wrist and pull her flush against him.
Cock brushed against her through those damnable layers of clothes Jing Yuan wore that had his head burying away in her neck to take in the scent of herbs that clung to every piece of clothing she had. Trying to bite back a groan as he did his best not to rock against her in a frenzy, but it was (Y/n) who ran a hand along his bare back and whispered in their small sanctuary of sheets and pillows “we can stop if you're nervous.”
And like an over eager fool he rushed out a no.
“No, I promise I'm fine.”
‘Worried I'll cum in under a minute, but fine.’
“Besides, you made me wait for a full year so I'm not going to pass on this now.”
“Patience,” She teased back. Hand brushing along his cheek that he couldn't help but to press a kiss to. “Besides, it seemed only right to wait until we were both adults.”
“Is this where you lord over the fact you're three years older than me again?”
Though she hasn't done that since he passed her in height, much to a certain someone's annoyance.
“Maybe.”
Tightening his grip on her waist Jing Yuan pulled her impossibly closer. Her warmth, her laugh, her hands tracing the muscles on his back she could surely name off the top of her head like it was nothing, it was all a reminder of how much he held her dear.
“Can we….”
“Start now?” That laugh again, the curl of her lips as she looked up at him through those long lashes she has cursed everytime they ‘betrayed her’ by letting something in her eyes.
“Yes.”
It was as Jing Yuan had tugged those pants down and out of the way that she grabbed his chin to lead him into a kiss. The taste of her still there, still lingering as her lips parted into a moan as for the first time it was his cock that filled her. That they were intertwined in a way that would make the Aeons themselves blush.
And it was in that moment as his hips moved to meet hers with a wet squelch that had him biting his lip not to moan too loudly and give away what they were doing to any of her neighbors in the dorms did the words I love you fill the air.
Her hands in Jing Yuan’s hair as she whispered them right back.
I love you.
I love you.
That's what she said to him as the wind whipped around from an awaiting ship. Luggage in her hand as she looked back between the people on board who were walking back and forth from the dock to a place Jing Yuan couldn't see with wooden crates full of provisions. Old nails clearly being the only things keeping the boxes together as he watched the cloud knights assigned to this mission just like she was.
Blue armor much like his own, but he wasn't one of the few that were chosen for this. No, (Y/n) was. A healer is always needed.
“I shouldn't even be gone long. At most maybe a year. Maybe two.”
Far from long in the eyes of a Xianzhou native, that's for sure. The denizens of the Luofu had their lives tick by as the humans who came to the ship for trade and sightseeing grew old and suddenly stopped showing up. All due to a very obvious conclusion. But two years without her?
“Why wasn't it someone else assigned? There's always Aihan.”
“That girl? She still gets squirmish during autopsies.”
Meaning no can do.
The stomping of boots continued as men tread back and forth. Some of the knights even stopped to give Jing Yuan a respectful nod or even a wave before continuing on with their task. His brothers in arms despite the fact he wasn't going to be besides them on the field this time.
“Besides, it's only Yaguoret. This should all be wrapped up quickly. At least compared to the thirty year missions some people are assigned to.”
A shrug, like this, wasn't a big deal at all despite the fact they both have been on a battlefield now. They both knew what it was like.
“Look Yuan, I'll be back in two years at max and when I arrive in your awaiting arms,” her hand slid along the blue fabric of his uniform, playing with the material she had sewed back together for his time and time again, “you can keep me all to yourself for a week. Just you, I, cute dates or… other things.”
“Two weeks.”
“One and a half.”
“Two weeks, prodigy.”
The two stared at each other for a moment before she finally sighed, shoulders dropping for only a moment.
“Fine, two weeks. I'll be all yours.”
Grabbing her hand, Jing Yuan locks their pinkies together. Silly, childish really, but it always worked when they were younger. Though it was mainly her wrangling him into compliance.
“Promise me.”
“I-I…..promise.”
So why was he now sitting in her room staring up at Jingliu listening to his master say something he never thought would be uttered?
The file boxes had been taken away, the bottles that had once reflected his own golden eyes back to him as Jing Yuan asked about the contents now missing, even the terrarium for Ingredients (Y/n) never bothered to get rid of was gone like it never existed in the first place. The dorm room is bare, hollow of the personality it had accrued over years of use.
Photos of them ripped from the walls leaving dark squares from the sun aging the wallpaper that once framed those cherished memories.
“What do you mean she's been exiled?”
“I mean exactly what I say, Jing Yuan. Miss (Y/n) of the alchemy commission, student to cauldron master Haize, has been exiled from the Luofu.”
Jingliu's hand moved to rest on the empty desk, brushing over the dust that had accumulated during the past three months that no one had properly cleaned this room. It was always something he intended to do, to keep up with making sure this place was as spotless as he could make it so she wouldn't come back to dust bunnies and a fit of sneezes, but work had been suddenly thrown onto him like something was amiss. Something massive had obviously happened, but he knew better than to ask when every time those who talked about it would shut their mouths the second even a wisp of his hair was seen.
“The fact she wasn't sentenced to death is a surprise.”
Because of course no one would want to talk to him about his own partner being….
“This is a mistake!”
Getting up from bed that creaked under him from the sudden movement Jing Yuan stood before his master, eyebrows pinched together to keep himself from outwardly scowling at the woman he owes so much to after years of training with the sword.
“You know her just as well as I do! She never would have hurt anyone like this.”
“When I knew (Y/n) best was when she was a fledgling. A kid, just as you are now. Letting your emotions blind your view of the truth will do nothing to help you.”
“I've known her for fifteen years. There's no way the same woman I know who takes spiders outside after finding them would be capable of murdering a hundred knights.”
(Y/n) can't even hold a sword properly. She is a healer, a woman who makes mixtures and applies bandages. Who presses kisses to his wounds as Jing Yuan tries to brush them off like they're nothing to avoid the bitter sting of hydrogen peroxide she would mercilessly apply to him with a smile like nothing was wrong. A woman like that holds no contest to men trained for combat. Some of those men that were sent out even had hundreds of years under their belt.
“Even if she poisoned them?”
Jing Yuan hissed out a breath at that, jaw tensed just the same way it would when the antiseptic met his braised skin.
“She's…she may be capable but that doesn't mean-”
“After the soldiers died the effects started to show in the village people that lived on Yaguoret. Even cauldron master Haize said it was the same symptoms the corpses of the cloud knights seemed to have gone through.”
Jingliu pulled her hand back from the desk, a small coating of dust on her fingers she brushed off.
“Haize has done everything he can with what he has, but the people native to that planet keep dropping faster than he can try and make new remedies.”
The two stared at each other for a moment, like Jingliu was waiting for Jing Yuan to finish what she was trying to say himself, but he bit his tongue. Refused to use it. He wouldn't say the words aloud.
“Only your partner would know the best way to go about making a poison that her own master could not find an antidote, or whatever those alchemy commission bunch need, to stop this issue in time.”
“The elders have decided this will be written off as a plague. That will be what is documented as to keep Haize from having his position looked at with suspicion, but he will be on thin ice from here on.”
What Jingliu wasn't saying is: it's a wonder the man is keeping his job at all.
“This isn't possible.”
‘She wouldn't do anything to risk her…and the promise.’
As it felt like his chest was being clawed at by an invisible hand winding its way through his mouth, past Jing Yuan throat, and ripping his lungs apart to grasp at his heart Jingliu placed a letter in his lap. The envelope it was in clearly had been torn open, but it was his name on the white parchment with the ‘I’ dotted with a heart.
Somehow the sight of it made it even harder to breathe.
“She left this behind for you, clearly. When they were cleaning out her room trying to find evidence that was stumbled upon.”
That would explain why her room is so empty.
The words why is it open then we're right on the tip of his tongue, but they both already knew the answer to that.
“Do you know its contents?”
Jingliu nodded at that, not saying a word as her red eyes flicked down to the torn apart packaging of something that was supposed to be meant for only him.
“Does it mention…”
‘Does it mention why?’
“It's best you read it yourself if you want to know.”
It was the force of habit alone that had Jing Yuan nodding as he was given one last glance by his master before she left him alone. Most likely he can process this thing on his own, but just the sight of it, the idea of what's inside, made him feel sick. Hell, he was half tempted to burn it and throw the ashes of what's left out the window so he can watch them dance on the wind the same way those specimens of belladonna and jimson weed got carried away.
Swallowing down the taste of bile licking at his tongue, Jing Yuan folded up the envelope and tucked it away in his uniform.
That… can be saved for another day.
A day for centuries later.
A day for when he was stopped short as a bird flew down and nestled upon the crook between his shoulder and golden armor piece strapped down to Jing Yuan's arm. Little chirps filled his ears as he walked through the streets of the Luofu. Sing song, a perfect background to his afternoon stroll as the few people he passed by on this path he's memorized after years of use bowed their heads.
Surely, if it wasn't for the upkeep on the potholes or cracks in the sidewalk he would have worn the shape of his boots into the white concrete long ago.
Another chirp and Jing Yuan looked down at the red beaked creature with a lazy smile. These things were always so comfortable with him, to the point he's even gotten a few comments from Fu Xuan about being a Disney princess. Something he just nods along with without complaint.
It was amusing how much his acceptance seemed to annoy her.
“Now, now, if you're too loud you might make this old man lose even more of his heari….”
His hearing.
But there he was stopped short, one foot in the air waiting to follow along the path only he knows the exact details of even as people try to record the goings and happenings of the Dozing General. Frozen in space, in time, like it was ice that kept him stock still and not a single image that came onto one of those many blue screens depicting today's news.
The words wanted written right under the white and red pictures of Blade, Kafka, and a woman Jing Yuan never thought he'd see again.
That old ache blooming in his chest again like a flower in a patch of dirt just waiting to be watered as her eyes were revealed to him. Even in a drawing meant to capture her image they never changed.
Teasin, inquisitive, and seemingly filled with thoughts he never had the neverending years to dig into like he was planting his own garden.
Wanted Stellaron Hunters.
Turning on his heel the bird that was nestled against him flew off, its wings flapping away as it took flight, and he was left to stride out of Starskiff Haven with his boots thudding their way back to the Seat of Divine Foresight as Jing Yuan tried with all his restraint not to break out into a full out run.
“You're dismissed,” is all he said as he entered those old walls, loud and clear for everyone inside to hear.
Heads turned his way, some immediately moved to leave, and the blond rascal of a kid he was so fond of came up to him only to hold his tongue as he saw the look on Jing Yuan’s face. A “very well, general,” threw his way as Yanqing followed everyone else out.
Jing Yuan didn't even notice the glance back to him as the doors shut.
Now it was just him standing there on the giant board surrounded by blue holograms, banners hanging from the beams up above, scrolls stored away in their exact places, and the lion statues he himself commissioned to be built in this place.
All alone.
Just like he was with a letter he never wanted to read as his feet carried him to that desk he hovers over day after day. Fingers moving along the smooth bottom to press a button that forced a drawer open. Thin, barely able to contain anything at all. When he first got this piece and requested such an addition the odd looks didn't bother him much, not when the carpenter didn't need to know what it was for. As far as he cared the simple phrase ‘official documents’ would have held enough weight.
But it wasn't some folder filled with the Xianzhou Luofu's darkest secrets, well, not fully anyway. Rather, it was a torn open envelope and the messy scrawl of his name.
‘Jing Yuan’ staring back at him.
Even after all these years later and his memories fade in favor of a blanket of mist keeping all those years locked away, he knew well enough she didn't like to refer to him that way.
It was Yuan.
It was her Yuan.
The paper felt odd in his hands, despite the amount of times he's pulled it out and debated opening the thing before it fades away to dust, like it was brand new. A clean sheet of paper despite it no doubt having passed through multiple hands before something that was rightfully his possession fell into his grasp for the first time. Fingers teasing over the ripped envelope as he pushed it aside and pulled out a folded note.
It wouldn't be too late to back out now, just how he has done a hundred times before as he failed to bite the bullet even his old master was able to, but then the image of her flashed in his mind again. The wanted poster was an accurate portrait, but it still felt like a character compared to the memories that were like a migraine that never ceased to ache.
‘Evolution didn't choose you, short stuff.’
‘Since when did it hurt to stop and smell the roses?’
‘I don't care if I'm busy, I'll find the time to go on that date with you. I promise.’
‘I love you.’
‘I'll be back in two years.’
A whirlwind of moments together, of her words, that had him just barely creasing the note.
The thought that she promised to come back quickly buried away as he, for the first time, unfolded the note he's kept all these years without her by his side.
‘Dear Yuan,
I have drafted this letter over ten times now and I can't quite seem to get the beginning of this right, so I think it's best just to get into the thick of things. You agree, yes? I hope you do.
I'm sure the news of what has happened (or is about to happen, if you're looking from my point of view) has reached you now. Is this a shock beyond words or did a part of you know this was going to happen? We do tend to let our unconscious selves be quieted and hushed away by emotions. Such is the way of any sentient creature whose instincts do not drive them. But you cannot look me in the eyes and tell me this was not something you would fully deny being something I am capable of if you weren't driven right now by what I can only guess is…betrayal.
I didn't mean to be your first heartbreak, my Yuan. No, I never wanted that at all. I wanted things to stay just the way they were when you'd take that wooden sword of yours when Jingliu hadn't yet given you permission to wield a real one and chase me around with it because I teased you too much. Or maybe back when we would turn rocks over a day after it rained so we can try and find bugs together.
Oh Yuan, I could list countless moments I wish time had chosen to freeze us both in so this outcome never had to come to pass.
But it did.
Now don't get me wrong, I'm not sorry for my actions.’
The words ‘I can't afford to be’ were crossed out.
‘Do you remember that night when we snuck into the gardens? I do. Very well at that. I hope you do too, just for different reasons. That night to me was being with you, of enjoying our time, until you brought up the mara-struck. Those creatures that plague us all at the end of our lives like a withering flower bound to end up as nothing more than a husk of itself as its body is preserved much like that one I keep with a red ribbon tied around it (the one you gave me when you tried to ask me out like a bumbling mess) pressed between pages as it's currently being used as a bookmark. The abominations, they have made me realize something you might not have yet.
Maybe those three years I have on you really do mean more than I would care to admit. Maybe in three years time when you are at the age I am now you'll realize this for yourself too. This war is never going to end. This war will taint what is beautiful in the world. We were blessed to have a loll in the time we were growing up, but that is only because of the sacrifices of many given for such peace.
But still, many died when our eyes were blinded by youth.
And when the battles did come you were a guard on some street in the Luofu as I was called out of my dorm to treat the few men who came back from their efforts in the middle of the night. Blearly, I was lacking sleep, but I did my job just as I always have. That is what I told myself when I had to dissect my first body at the age of fifteen. ‘Do your job, girly’ despite the fact I was surrounded by those older than me and even they cringed as Haize yanked some pubic hair from a corpse to store into a plastic bottle for proper collection.
It took a while for them to forget this thing before them, this hunk of meat, was dead and therefore couldn't feel pain. It took me a while too.
Back to the men…They would come in covered in blood, scratches that were left by creatures I never would have dreamed of existing before until they told me about them as I figured out all on my own how to detach a chewed up limb from a man without making it too painful.
They still passed out in the end.
One day you will know war, you will know what it's like to be on the battlefield for more than a skirmish, you will know the smell of the dead as all their bowels release and the smell of shit fills the air, just as I do now after having been called to be a medic in those poorly put up tents behind the fighting men.
Yet I don't want people to have to know about war. I don't want you to know about war despite you jumping at every chance to prove yourself as a Cloud Knight. I don't want those people of Yaguoret to know about war as we descended on their planet. But it is inevitable. They are a poor people who know little of what to do with the land they possess, and we are a civilization that sees their planet for the resources it has.
It was already discussed after the first talks with the people there after they turned away our offers of trade that they needed to be…wiped out.
Children, mothers, fathers who can't even put up a proper fight, let alone to a Cloud Knight.
So if you are wondering if I killed our men, the very people we talked with in the mess hall, or annoyed on the training grounds, or that I bandaged in the past, then I have to tell you I will.
They won't survive, of course they won't. What kind of prodigy would I be if I couldn't make a simple poison that would properly kill a man? Or a good hundred.
Sorry, I shouldn't be making jokes now. Force of habit.
There will be no war if the people trying to make a war are dead.
There is no way to enact change without sacrifices. That is how medicine is made. First someone must come to you with an issue, a sickness, and it is their loss of life that allows you to test the boundaries of this illness.
But that doesn't change the fact that I will soon become a murderer.
Somehow I am calm, at ease, yet the most scared I have ever been in my life.
But I have cast aside my alchemy commission uniform. Green never was my color.
I am no longer a healer. A murderer cannot claim that title.
So, as I said before, I won't apologize for my actions, but I'm sorry I had to face this world before you did, to come to my own conclusions. I can't help but wonder if I was younger, if I didn't have those three years on you, if we could find our own conclusions together. Ones that we could support side by side that wouldn't result in this.
I suppose what I'm trying to say is-’
And the last words, with a dried teardrop smearing the letters so they were barely legible as Jing Yuan had to narrow his eyes to read.
As much as I want to 'fix' Aventurine so he won't have to suffer, I'd be doing his character zero justice.
Aventurine is someone strong, he's capable of pulling himself up all on his own, even from the worst lows imaginable. He's not an uwu baby boy who needs you to save him and do everything for him.
Aventurine just needs someone to stay by him, be there as his support, his shoulder to lean on, a guarantee in a sea of chances he can fall back on, someone he can really trust. The rest of it? He's got it all under control.
Aventurine doesn't need you to fix him, he needs you to be there for him as he fixes himself.
✢ a/n: here's part 2! i'd like to emphasize that depsite this being a gojo x reader fic, the main realationships i'll be focusing on are y/n and the kids gojo brings home lmao. also im raw dogging the lore as we go so if there are any inconsistencies, please lmk. as always, have fun and lmk what you think!
i don’t do taglists.
part one ✢ masterlist
If it were up to you, you would have shut the gates of the Gojo estate as soon as the child entered the grounds, but your husband had given him the the maids so quickly that you’re sure they have spread the word around already. You could hear the rumors in your head. Gojo Satoru has brought home a child out of wedlock. Gojo Y/N is barren. Gojo Satoru has a mistress.
You expected Gojo to be frantic, stumbling over his words in explanation as to why he has a son- it was his son, there was no doubt about that- reassuring you about his vows remain unbroken, or whatever else but silence. You are silent too as you watch the child get scurried away by the estate staff to scrub the dirt off his face and to get a change of clothes.
Even as he is being escorted away from you, his cursed energy did not fade. You feel it like how everyone feels Gojo’s, but more raw and untamed. Whoever this child is, it is Gojo Satoru reborn again.
Silence. Silence is what took the Gojo estate into a chokehold as the maids finish bathing the child and then put him in a spare bedroom a good distance away from yours. The maids must think you resent him.
Satoru pretends like everything is the same as if the boy had been there since the beginning. During the first night, you watch with a blank face as the cake you've baked for him is eaten by the child. Neither the boy nor Satoru expresses their gratitude towards you. You doubt they even know you baked it.
To his credit, Satoru had treated the child better than you had expected. He is blossoming into fatherhood, you realize and you feel the rage and anger burn in your stomach.
He pats the boy's head and messes his hair, before pointing to his own messy mane exclaiming, "See? We match!"
Satoru had tried to include you in conversations with the boy, even daring to seat him on his right at meals. Satoru would blab after seeing the child gobble mochi. "Mochi is Y/N's favorite too!" He turns to look at you with a bright smile. "Right, Y/N?"
You want to point out that the boy had gobbled everything served to him, but you just give a brief nod.
At night, you sleep like a log- rigid, straight, and quiet. Satoru, on the other hand, remains comfortable, snoozing the day's exhaustion behind him.
Tonight will be the same as it has been for the past few weeks. You stare at yourself in the mirror of your vanity, wondering if your reflection is the perfect example of a foolish woman. How stupid of you to think he was different.
There was nothing but quiet as you prepare yourself to sleep, brushing your hair quietly. You hear the door creak but you do not turn and greet him with a smile like you used to.
“I expected you to be more emotional about this,” came Satoru's words beside you. Me too, you want to reply but held your mouth shut.
You had expected yourself to scream, and let your anger flow through your voice. You wanted to cry until your tears were dry and there wasn't any left. Neither you nor Satoru would be surprised if you use your technique against him in a fit of fury, and if you truly knew your husband, you know he'd take your anger like it was penance. You want to be the fire that burns him badly. But you did none of those.
You are as cold as their blue eyes. You are quiet.
You continue to brush your hair.
"Do you want me to get rid of him?" offers Satoru. "Just say the word, and I will."
You blink in surprise. You meet his eyes in the mirror. Satoru looks nonchalant in his posture with his hands in his pockets. But the fact that his glasses were nowhere to be seen tells you he is not joking.
Your ears recall the promise he made months ago. My wife, my equal. A promise to try, to try to be happy to spite everyone who was determined to make your lives miserable.
The sudden exhaustion hit you, your shoulders slumping from your previous postures. You lean back, letting your nape rest on the back of the chair. You stare at the ceiling, your head forbidding you to forget how the child looked like. White hair. Blue eyes. You hear Satoru sigh somewhere near you. You hear his footsteps come. From your peripheral, you see his figure beside you. A feather-like hesitant hand touches your shoulder. “I was not unfaithful to you.”
Satoru moves to kneel in front of your sitting figure. He reaches out to your head, and touches his forehead against yours. You find yourself looking up at his eyes, the same shade of eyes that he shares with the child. His hands cradle your face, desperate for you to believe him. “Please. Please, Y/N.”
You remain silent.
“You’re the only one I have left, Y/N, please.” He begs. There are tears threatening to spill down to his pretty face, and you find some sick satisfaction in them.
That is not true. Your husband has his clan, his estate servants, his high school friends, and his teachers. It is you that has no one but him. By your culture’s traditions, you do not belong to your clan anymore. You know that some elders have begun to doubt their choice in choosing you as the wife of Gojo Satoru with the obvious lack of children, but with the sudden appearance of Gojo-sama’s bastard child, they might annul your marriage by force- or, god forbid, cast you aside for another, more fertile woman.
You do not wish to share your thoughts, but your husband grips your head so desperately. You have made a god beg.
“I know.” You say. The child may be young, but he was old enough to walk and talk small phrases on his own. He must be at least two years old. The child is older than your marriage.
His shoulders immediately drop in relief before quickly detangling himself from you and wrapping his arms around your waist. He slides his head to hide in your neck and like instinct, you welcome him wrapping your hands around his waist.
"Where would you leave him?" You manage to ask, still not believing his offer.
"The cabin," he says. You can see the cracks on your husband now. You spot his hand making a fist inside his pockets, like it pains him to speak. “The one by Nagasaki, remember? I’ll send a maid and give him money every month. We can send him right now. The maids will not say anything outside the estate, not if I threaten to chop their tongues off. We can send him off with a caretaker to a cabin somewhere and leave him there. I- I can visit him a few times a year- just to make sure he’s fine.”
You blink. You did not expect Satoru to offer that. You let the fantasy linger in your head. You imagine the boy’s life so far- abandoned by his mother and unknown by his father. Children do not understand things the way older people do, so it is up to the adults to help and explain certain things. But he has not had an adult in his life before. Would you be happy if you were left alone in the cabin in the middle of the woods with no one but a caretaker for company? Better yet- will the caretaker even stay to care for him without anyone around?
That sounds incredibly lonely, you realize. The premise sounds all too familiar to you- an empty house with no one but servants. But this boy will only get one.
He needs people to protect him, but you are unsure if you’d like to. Your instincts tell you to agree, get rid of the boy before he becomes more of a threat.
“Satoru,” you say slowly, thinking of your next words carefully. “He is just child. He is no danger to me.”
You hold your breath, suprised to hear the words out of your mouth. From your lap, Satoru holds your gaze- piercing eyes trying to read your mind. If he caught your lie he does not show it.
"Are you sure?"
No. "Yes."
-
Hiroki. Satoru had names him Gojo Hiroki.
He spends most of his days inside the estate surrounded by maids or inside his room playing with the toys you off-handedly ordered the day after he arrived. The maids gush about him already, the older ones excitedly murmuring how the little lord acts so much like your husband as a child. You would be a fool not to agree.
Hiroki runs barefoot through the estate, tracking mud on precious tatami floors before a servant finally catches him. He likes people, likes the maids and the servants, and thus has migrated to the kitchen a few weeks after his arrival like he was addicted to places were people are the most. He draws. He draws so much it’s almost ridiculous. You could have a library full of childish scribbles.
Like your husband, he devours his dessert the best before any dish. He eats mochi, ice cream, cookies and whatever sweets there are on the table like it was his last meal. You recall one of the maids gasp as a drop of cream lands on your cheek when he slammed his fork in his cake.
Satoru is free in his affection for the boy, unexpectedly flourishing in fatherhood. He remains firm in his belief that children should be children and makes an effort to see Hiroki out. Satoru becomes known to sneak the child away from the estate to parks, to mini-vacations you begrudgingly join after Satoru’s incessant pestering. And of course- school. Hiroki made history once again when Satoru announced his decision to enroll Hiroki in a totally normal, public Japanese preschool.
You realize that Satoru was meant to be a father. And one good one at that. It brings you comfort that any children that he is at least good to his son after he confessed his plan to be a teacher after graduation.
Tokyo’s jujutsu highschool would be blessed with his presence, thought one of Satoru’s female seniors would disagree.
“Yo, Y/N-chan,” came a voice.
You twist your body over to the source of the voice, and your face lights up at the sight of a familiar face. “Getou-san!”
If Satoru's presence is an overwhelming force, making everyone and everything bow to him as if he is god, Getou is a dark, uneasy, slinking feeling. His cat-like features morph into a happy expression with a polite smile on his lips.
“Is there a mission today?” You ask as Getou comes nearer. Satoru would try his best to keep any of his classmates away from his estate, but there is nothing he can hide from Getou and Shoko. "Can I come?"
After you had let slip that you wanted to become a licensed sorcerer, Satoru had made it a habit to sneak you into some missions with Getou. You had fretted about the technical legalities and questioned the safety of the public when an inexperienced sorcerer like you enter the battlefield but Satoru merely shrugged and simply gestured to his best friend. We're the strongest!
Getou leans his shoulder on the wall. "Nope, not this one Y/N."
“I see,” you say, failing to hide your disappointment. Sometimes you wonder why you enjoy the missions so much. Was it the thrill of doing something you never would? Perhaps it was the freedom of it all, unleashing your power to poor curses who quiver beneath your feet?
Your ears perked at a familiar high pitched laugh, and your eyes immediately lock to the window where Hiroki soon runs across. He has dried soil on his feet. His pale hair is slicked back with sweat and it glistens against the sun like snow.
A maid forces a laugh in panic as she tries to catch him with his shoes on one hand.
Away from him. That’s why you enjoy it.
Getou follows your line of sight. “How is he?”
You glare at him. “How would I know?”
Everyone knows that Hiroki is a taboo topic if it’s within your earshot, lest they want the you in a foul mood. But Getou does not shy away from his question and only raises an eyebrow, calling your bluff.
“You’re telling me you do not know your own household?”
“The garden is his place,” you sigh., and admitting it felt like defeat. “He likes the grass on his feet and likes big spaces. He gets angsty when a room is too small.”
“Mmhm,” Getou agrees. “Did you know Satoru plans to enroll him in a daycare?”
Your eyes widen in horror. “In a- what?” You shriek. “He has a dozen of servants here willing to serve him-! Does he even realize the risk he’s putting the boy in? Assassins, curses, cursed users…” you trail off, remembering your own childhood. It was strange to be surrounded by servants but feeling so alone at the same time. “I see.” A daycare meant potential friends, friends that you never got to have. “Does…does the boy like it at least?”
“Me?” Getou barks out a surprised laugh. “Shouldn’t you know that?”
You glare at him. Getou meets your gaze unapologetically, almost as if he was challenging you. Finally, he sighs. “Have you ever talked to him at least?”
You roll your eyes. Your sharp tone echoes around the room. “And why would I do that? He is no concern to me.”
"He needs you."
"He does not need me," you snap, suddenly impatient for Satoru to come out of wherever he’s hiding so Getou and him can go. “He will resent me when he’s older, I know it.”
You have seen this same scene over and over again. Children and the wife of the husband do not get along. Both suffer at the existence of the other. This is the fate that Satoru had subjected you to. This is the fate you have set upon yourself when you refused to send him away. You wonder if your kindness will cost you one day.
“Well,” Getou shrugged nonchalantly. “You haven’t given him any reason to like you either.”
You opened your mouth to retort, only to be interrupted by Satoru.
“Getouu,” he whined, comically trudging towards his best friend with a hunched back. “Why are you so early?”
You see Getou open his mouth to reply, but you are lost in your head. You watch Getou ignore Satoru’s childish gimmicks, already dragging him out of the room and towards the door. You feel Satoru kiss your cheek before waving goodbye, but your head was in a daze mindlessly repeating Getou’s words. You feel shiver creep down your spine before shifting your gaze towards the garden where Hiroki’s presence was last.
-
thank you so much for reading guys! i’d love to hear all criticisms and suggestions for this universe <33 please lmk through comments :>
࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 synopsis: you can’t shake the mixed feelings you have about satoru, but first impressions don't always reveal what a person is like
contents: crack? sashisu! dynamic. profanities. teen! gojo being cocky (what else is new?) second & third person pov
summer isn’t over yet! collection, can be read as a stand-alone
your first day at jujutsu tech was anything but insipid. the sun was at its peak, golden rays reflecting off the gray asphalt and dousing the foothills of mount mushiro in pure light. the wind subtly tousled your hair and the crimson torii gate cast shadows on your face.
summer, was indubitably your favourite season. it came with fun. smiles. laughter. adventure. meeting new people. and most importantly freedom.
the days got longer, school got shorter and you were typically free to do whatever you pleased. however, that wasn’t the case this year. the taiyo clan leaders had forced you to accept the offer to attend tokyo jujutsu high and you stood impatiently beside masamichi yaga —your new teacher — while you waited for your classmates in the courtyard
"sorry about this" he says sheepishly, running an exasperated hand over his face "i told them to be here as early as possible, but i can barely keep them in check”
“what are they like?” you asked, smoothing your fingers over your pleated skirt, “do you have a photograph”
“i do oddly enough, shoko’s into photography so she takes these polaroids of everything and everyone” he sifts around in his pockets until his fingers graze the crumpled picture. "these are your classmates — suguru geto, satoru gojo, and shoko ieiri”
your eyes skimmed over the three first years, the first boy had deep violet eyes and long black hair scraped into a bun. he rested his chin in the divot of his palms, his ear smushed against his lithe fingers. his black pearl earrings reflected the fluorescent lights. "suguru" the name checked out. he did look like he was famous
the second boy "satoru" was his polar opposite with fluffy white hair that defied all forms of gravity. he was slumped against the wooden table, blacked out sunglasses propped against his nose.his bright blue eyes peered curiously over the lenses. they were almost startling, something about their intensity felt like he could see everything, everywhere all at once
the girl "shoko", balanced them out with her brown chin length hair and the mole underneath her right eye. an ivory unlit cigarette was nestled between her plush pink
“they seem… nice”
“shoko’s the nicest of the three, she’s a sweetheart so you’ll get along just fine” he muses, “suguru is usually a gentleman compared to satoru. satoru’s too full of himself and he’s a terrible influence, please try to keep on the straight and narrow”
“i will” you said, shifting from one foot to another. you were very nervous about meeting your classmates— especially the esteemed strongest whose birth alone shifted the balance of the jujutsu world. it almost seemed unreal that he went to the same school as you
hell, this whole thing seemed unreal. tokyo jujutsu high was bigger than you’d imagined. it was surrounded by the forests and was spread vastly over the mountain. there was no way you’d learn your way around.
you could see a figure approaching you from the distance. you figured it was ieiri, although her photograph didn’t do her enough justice. shoko was even more beautiful in person, her dark brown hair grazed her shoulders and curled around her ears. her eyes radiated sunlight, the colour of honeyed caramel and she smelled like jasmine and sandalwood. she waved at you, and you smiled in response.
“finally” he sighed, “ieiri what time do you call this? and where are those knuckleheads?”
"sorry i'm late sensei!" she says, bowing slightly, "i couldn't drag satoru and suguru out of bed, they stayed up late playing video games again"
"i'll have to confiscate the wii" yaga sighed, shaking his head before glancing at his watch. he seemed to visibly turn pale as he registered the time, "shoko could you take (y/n) on a tour of the campus?"
"aren't you supposed to be be the one doing that?” she asks, thumbing at the cigarette slotted between her lips, “not that i mind, i just hope you’re not slacking off again”
"kids these days," he mutters under his breath "i would be the one giving you a tour, but i need to head to kyoto for a meeting”
“if you say so” shoko hums, she squeezes your forearm gently before looping her arm through yours, “c’mon (y/n), you’re much better off with me anyways”
“funny” yaga deadpans, “i’m off now, try and introduce (y/n) to the others” with a final glance at his watch, he hastily makes his way down the foothills and out of sight
“i’m so glad we finally have another girl” shoko says, eyes twinkling, “you’re from the taiyo clan right?“
“yeahh i’m from the taiyo clan” you nodded. the two of you walked over the cobbled floors in sync until shoko came to a stop in front of one of the huge buildings
“can i take a photo for my album” she asks, plush pink lips moving around the cigarette slotted between them, “the uniform looks so good on you”
despite being reluctant to come here, you were glad the uniforms were customisable and yaga had perfected your requested alterations.
your asymmetrical navy blue jacket had the sailor suit style and a silky white bow hanging slightly above your chest . your jacket was tucked into a black skirt that hung above your knees, and you wore black knee-high socks and loafers.
“you can” you grinned, without wasting a mere second she angled her camera and attempted to capture your beauty to memory.
“i wish those idiots came with me, it would’ve been so cool to get one of all of us” she pouts, “you’ll meet them later, whenever they crawl out of their rooms”
she trudged nimbly up the cobbled stairs with splatters of fuzzy moss and into the traditionally built building you stood before.
“these are the classrooms” she gestures to the vast corridor lined with wooden sliding doors. some of them are pristine while the others have cracks lining the chipped wood
“there’s so many” you gawk, “y’know i thought jujutsu tech was really small, yaga said there were barely any students”
“it is really small” she laughs, “there are two second years and three first years, four now that you’re here. jujutsu sorcerers are rare so class sizes are really small. we only use two of the classrooms”
she slid the door to her left open, the classroom was filled with wooden desks and had a blackboard behind the podium you assumed was the teaching area
the windows were open and gusts of airy summer breeze wafted through the panes. you trailed in after her and noticed that most of the desks were upturned except three in the front row
“this is our classroom” shoko said, trailing her fingers over the desk in the middle. it had scribbled kanji and cartoony digimon sketches on it. “we come here for homeroom and regular classes”
“like math and science?” you asked, raising a brow. yaga hadn’t mentioned anything about formal education when he’d picked you up from the station that morning
“we do english too” she sighs, “it’s honestly such a pain. anyways, the school has training grounds, courtyards, dormitories, common rooms and a bunch of other stuff, what do you wanna see first?”
“the dorms” you hummed, tucking your hands into your skirt pockets, “they’re probably the closest to us”
essentially, you were right. the dorms were less than a minute away from the classroom block. the hallway was wide and had less doors than the classroom’s corridor. the wood looked freshly polished and cardboard signs hung on the sliding doors.
“so these are the dorms” shoko said, “they can be reorganized and decorated as you see fit. like the classrooms, there are many empty rooms”
you can hear the faint sound of heavy metal music and the sound of videogames seeping underneath the doors on your right
“the second years are further down the hallway” shoko says, “satoru and suguru are on the right and this is my room,”
she creaks the door open and you see a flash of pinky and earthy tones. it looks nice, although it’s rather messy. there are piles of clothes beside the window and old soda cans littered on her dresser
“i’m not really the neatest person ever” she giggles sheepishly, before sliding her door shut, “this room is yours, yaga put us next to each-other”
your hand rests on the doorknob, just as you’re about to slide it open you hear footsteps coming towards you.
your eyes fall on a girl with long blackish-purple hair in a traditional miko outfit. she seems mildly irritated and a girl with long blue-grey hair scraped into a ponytail trailed languidly behind her.
“shokoooo” utahime squeals, bounding joyfully towards her favourite first year. her long blackish-purple curls hang loosely in ringlets down her back and her brown eyes sparkled “have you seen that nuisance gojo?”
“no he's not out of his room yet” shoko said, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “what has he done now?”
“what hasn’t he done” utahime muttered under her breath, “‘m gonna fucking kill him this time i swear”
“that so?” mei-mei chuckles, “quit swearing in-front of the new first year utahime-san”
“is this the new first year?” utahime asks, snapping out of her angry daze and finally her brown eyes flicker over to you, “sorry about that, that imbecile brings out the worst in me”
“(y/n) this is utahime and this is mei-mei” shoko says, pointing at them respectively, “they’re the second years”
“nice to meet you taiyo” mei-mei hummed, her red painted lips stretched into a lazy smile as she held out her freshly manicured hand. you took it tentatively. “do you mind if we join your tour ieiri?”
“i don’t mind but you should really ask (y/n)” she shrugs
mei-mei shoots you an expectant look, you reciprocate with a nod, “i don’t mind, the more the merrier”
“yes!” mei-mei grins, “i love giving tours, let’s go to the common room and get something to eat”
“can you make us pancakes utahime-san” shoko pleads, batting her eyelashes and clasping her hands together, “or french toast”
“i will, as long as that moron doesn’t get to have any” utahime says, cracking her knuckles, “when i get wind of him i’ll-”
“so the school mainly fronts as a buddhist temple, which is why it has the traditional architectural style and several statues of deities, shrines, and torii gates around campus” mei-mei explained, interrupting utahime who looked very bristled
the quirk in her eyebrow faded into nothing but pure bliss as shoko looped her arm through hers. the pair trailed slowly behind you as mei-mei transversed down the hallway and up the stairs
the rest of the morning is a slow sugary blur. utahime makes her famous pancakes and mei-mei happily explained jujutsu regulations to you while shoko showed you her photo album.
( it was a quarter full, with pictures of suguru and satoru goofing off or utahime and satoru in the midst of some altercation with a few rare photos of yaga sleeping)
“normies can’t see us because we’re hidden by a protective barrier held by tengen-sama, he lives under the school in the tombs of the star.” mei-mei says, after taking a bite of syrupy pancakes, “that’s pretty much everything you need to know”
“thank you for the pancakes utahime-san” you said between bites of fluffy goodness, “and thank you so much for the tour”
“don’t mention it” utahime grins, “consider this your official welcome to jujutsu tech”
the saccharine serenity shatters as satoru — and suguru — make their way into the kitchen. the blue eyed boy is still in his pyjamas while suguru’s dressed in what seems to be his uniform
“yooo” satoru yawns, “ouu hime you made pancakes? don’t mind if i do”
you peered at him curiously. was this the satoru gojo? the esteemed strongest whose birth alone shifted the balance of the jujutsu world? he seemed like an ordinary teenager. gangly legs, pale veiny hands, white unkempt hair, and blue eyes hidden behind weird sunglasses.
he didn’t look like much, childishly swiping a piece of pancake off utahime’s stack and quickly stuffing the sweet batter into his mouth
“you have some nerve-” she grumbled, throwing her fork at him. it bounces off some sort of invisible wall and falls beside his feet, “be more polite to your elders”
“is this the newbie?" satoru asks waving her off, you notice him take off his round sunglasses and his infinitely blue eyes are fixed on you
“i’m pretty sure she has a name” suguru says, nudging him with his elbow, trying and failing to salvage what was left of a good first impression.
“the rookie from the taiyo clan?” he asks, raising a perfectly arched brow “is this the girl yaga was talking about”
he was trying to make headway of your face, to see what you looked like. he was unsuccessful, your eyes were trained on your pancakes and the syrup pooling on the blue ceramic plate
“it’s (y/n)” shoko sighs, “and you were supposed to meet her earlier but you two refused to get out of bed”
“sorry about that (y/n)” geto offers, his apology seemed genuine and heartfelt, “we were up pretty late last night, otherwise we would’ve been there”
you finally looked up from your plate and shook your head before flashing suguru a heart-stopping smile, “you’re all good don’t worry”
for the first time in all fifteen and a half years of his life, satoru seemed to be at a loss for words. he knew he should probably apologise and try to make you view him in a better light. but he couldn’t find the words.
not that it mattered now. you shot him an icy glare as you stalked past him and dropped your plate in the sink. he feels shivers run down his spine.
"i want to show you the morgue and the cursed warehouse!" mei-mei says, throwing an arm over your shoulder, “we can pick out a tool for you”
satoru’s cerulean eyes snapped to yours, he saw a flicker of something he couldn’t quite place passing through them. it didn’t look positive. he sensed aversion, dislike, maybe even hatred?
"see you in a bit" you wave to your upperclassman, and shoko and suguru as mei-mei led you out of the common room. the friendly gesture doesn't extend to satoru. he blinks. once. twice. and then he finally snaps out of it
"she's beautiful holy shit" he whispers incredulously, shaking suguru by his shoulders. then his infinitely blue eyes are fixed on shoko "i would've gotten up if you told me that"
suguru shrugged him off, “you’ve ruined any chances you had of getting with her, i told you you needed to stop being so rude”
“i can fix this surely” he sounds panicked, “do i go after them? or should i wait until she’s alone-”
"what an imbecile" utahime bursts out laughing , slamming her fist down on the table as she shakes with laughter, “can you believe him?”
“you’re too full of yourself” shoko says, shaking her head, “rookie? newbie? that’s really bad even for you i’m sure she hates you now”
“can you blame her?” utahime quips, “it’s only natural to hate gojo” she pushed her chair back and smoothed a hand over her neatly pressed clothes, intending to start on the dishes.
“hate is a strong word” suguru pipes up, pulling out a seat, “they just got off on the wrong foot, classic satoru”
“not you too suguru” he whines, pooling into a puddle of despair and anguish on the tiled floor
“so dramatic” suguru mutters, scooping an untouched pancake off shoko’s plate. they exchanged glances as they watched satoru have an existential crisis beside the counter. summer was going to be interesting
can i request karma akabane with a gf who’s very like— red??
she wears red lipstick , she’s bold and seductive , she’s smart—but she’s a smart ass , she’s rich and flaunts it yet she’s humble in a odd way because you wouldn’t think she would be with the way she acts.
she’s sensitive but everybody thinks she’s tough , she acts like she doesn’t care but she does deeply.
You’re an inferno--lips adorned with a captivating scarlet hue that contrasted sharply with the wicked flash of your white teeth; words clad in iron, sparks of acquired wisdom and accumulated spite dancing through the air whenever you clashed with someone of similar strength, only to inevitably swathe them in heat until they crumbled to ash; eyes alight with a gentle glow that could provide those lost in the darkness with a comforting warmth, but could just as easily flare into a blistering storm that seared the terrifying memory of you into the bones and psyche of whoever was unfortunate enough to endure your wrath; skin pulsating with a ravishing, alluring warmth that danced along your playful fingertips and curled around your silver tongue as you pushed calculatively at the buttons of your targets until you obtained the information you wanted from them.
The moment you waltzed into Karma’s life with that passionate, entrancing aura, it was game over for him. Although he did his best to play hard to get, you had him wrapped around your pretty finger in record time. How could he resist your fiery attitude and heart of gold? How could he not feel shocked when he made a snide comment during your first meeting, only to have you lash into his chest with an even sharper remark? How could he not feel his resolve collapse when you slowly--almost painfully so--smoothed your thumb over his lips, smearing the lipstick on your thumb from your touch-up onto his cheek before releasing an earnest laugh that seemed too innocent for the situation?
Your relationship is often a struggle for power. You both fight for dominance, whether it be in a kiss, who holds the door for who, or who tends to the other’s wounds first after placing yourselves in unnecessary danger for the sake of someone else’s safety. It’s honestly rather amusing, watching you both fight to push the other away from the door or try to wrestle one another into the passenger’s seat with a shouted, “No, I insist!”
Your personalities do often lead to legitimate arguments, though. You butt heads over things such as where to invest money or what decision should be made next for the good of the company you’re both involved in. Basically, you argue about grown folk shit.
We all know that Karma can be a manipulative little asshole, but he wouldn’t even think about trying to use his tactics on you, because you would sniff them out and call him out on his bullshit before he could even finish speaking. On top of that, he would feel guilty using such underhanded methods on someone he regards so highly.
But, because you both think you’re right, your conflicts usually result in you both giving each other the silent treatment until one of you gets hungry or takes a much-needed nap. However, after taking some time to cool off, you two usually work things out in the end, and you’re right back to operating like a well-oiled machine.
Once you and Karma were united in a relationship, you changed your methods of procuring information. No longer did you whisper erotic promises in the ears of your targets or bat your eyelashes whenever you wanted something, nor did you wish to continue. The only reason you had employed such a practice to begin with is because you already knew what kind of men they were, and you really didn’t feel like soiling your hands with thievery.
Now, the only man who received such affections was Karma. Your eyes were no longer uncaring and aloof beneath your seductive facade whenever you felt hands wrap around your waist, because the only man you now allowed to do so was the only one you loved dearly. How could your eyes not brim with affection whenever you pressed close to him, teasingly gliding your crimson-tinted lips over his jawline while a small laugh bubbled in your chest? Anyone else who dared to advance on you in such a disrespectful manner was met with a barrage of verbal assault that could bring just about anyone to tears.
Despite that, your bewitching aura and striking features still attracted a lot of attention. Men traced your figure with a carnal gleam in their eye, but most of them ended up flinching away when they noticed the man on your arm staring right back. However, there were always the token few who challenged Karma’s icy stare with a disdainful smirk.
Although this left room for jealousy and anger to swell in Karma’s chest, he knew that no matter how many men desired you, the only one that you desired was him. The only one who got to hold you, who got to kiss you, and who got to feel you tremble against him as the tip of his tongue danced across your throat--was him, Karma Akabane. Still, this didn’t prevent him from tightening his grip on you and drawing you closer to his side. You’re his, and these deviants need to understand that. He isn’t afraid to request to “speak” to the man outside, nor is he afraid to tilt your head in his direction before pressing a passionate kiss to your lips. When you get flustered and chide him, he simply laughs and playfully sticks his tongue out at you, reveling in the faces that only he can elicit from you.
It’s no secret that Karma admires your strength and independence. In fact, your undeniable durability in the face of trouble was what initially attracted him to you. You could be woken up in the middle of the night and forced outside in nothing but your underwear, and you would stand there obdurately with your arms crossed and a glare so intense that it would make the intruders feel as if they’re the ones exposed. He loves that about you, but there are also the moments when you’re standing there in front of him in the shelter of your home with your hair messy and tears streaming down your face, reminding him that even though you’re tough, you’re still very much human. You still have flaws and weaknesses, and you’re more sensitive than you portray yourself to be.
“You know, for someone who cries so much and has such an intense desire to be liked by everyone, you’d think you’d be less brutal and domineering.”
Okay, Karma, we gET IT.
You sniffle, pulling the collar of Karma’s shirt up over your nose. This time, you were crying about the puppy you saw dead on the side of the road. In front of your subordinates, you’d simply clicked your tongue and watched as one of your people lifted it out of the road, silently praying for its safe journey to the afterlife and that it didn’t suffer in its final moments. But the moment you arrived home, you’d burst into tears, letting your purse thud to the floor and forcefully kicking off your shoes. It’d been almost an hour now, and you've even taken a shower and removed your makeup. Yet, here you are, still crying.
“I want to go back and bury it.” Your eyes shine with the rawest form of passion and tenacity he’s ever seen. “Mr. Takashi just left it in the grass in the middle of nowhere. That’s no way to send something off. It’s disrespectful. Will you come with me, Karma?”
His eyes widen. You’re no longer the professional, stone-faced businesswoman who surpassed the odds and dismantled the idea that a woman so young couldn’t possibly be so influential in the world of economics and business deals. Well, that’s not entirely correct. You still are, but the wildfire in your soul has been… converted into a more subdued, concentrated form. On top of that. your expression is far from emotionless.
“Of course, I will.” Karma plants a gentle kiss on your forehead. You’re quiet for a moment. But then, a bright smile spreads across your lips and more tears trickle down your face--but this time, they’re no longer wrought with sorrow and turmoil. You’re genuinely happy. Your expression is soft, vulnerable; and, Karma doesn’t think he’s ever been more in love. He taps your shoulder with a finger. “It’s cold out. You should go change into something warmer.”
“Don’t tell me what to do.” Despite your words, your protest is weak, and you’re still smiling.
Your kindness extends to those around you as well, even though it isn’t always very obvious. Everyone in the company is well aware of the reputation you have constructed for yourself. Everyone views you as tough and calloused when it comes to interacting with others, as well as on an untouchable level when it comes to making deals and ensnaring others in their contradictions. Those who don’t scramble to appease you acknowledge you as an equal, and those who still look upon you condescendingly are deemed unworthy of your energy and assistance when their plans go up in flames.
“The CEO is cutting off funding for our department after we botched the last deal--”
“I fail to see how that’s my problem.”
“Well, Miss, it’s just that you’re on good terms with him, so I was hoping you could appeal to him on behalf of the processing department.”
“Why would I do that? Surely when you scoffed at my offer to form an agreement between our departments, you had considered such an outcome and were prepared to handle it on your own. Surely you didn’t do something as foolish as only considering my gender and not the benefits of securing a relationship between our departments when you made your decision.”
“Well--”
“That’s what I thought. You’re a big boy, so figure it out on your own.”
*Cue Karma snickering in the background*
It’s conversations like this that help people understand exactly why you’re the only person that can keep Karma in check. You don’t take shit from anyone. You’re the only one who can scold him, drag him out of the office by the ear, and send him shuffling off to do some menial task when he’s disrupting your department’s work—anyone else would either end up with fractured bones or be met with a sneer so frigid they would feel their bloodstream run cold. People watch through the crack in your office door in awe as you firmly press your pointer finger into Karma’s forehead, quietly chastising him for lounging around your office during hours. Instead of seizing your wrist in a bruising grip like he would with anyone else, all he does is chuckle and straighten up, bowing his head and giving you a semi-serious “My deepest apologies, ma’am” before sauntering off to do God knows what.
Your subordinates are the only ones spared from your temper and scalding remarks. You simply pretend not to listen to or care about their problems as you conduct your work for the day, which makes it even more strange when little things start happening that make their lives easier.
The young woman that was visibly yet silently struggling with a stomach ache returned from her lunch break to find a bottle of Advil in front of her keyboard. The man who made a phone call to his daughter apologizing for not being able to attend her dance recital that night had the remaining paperwork swept off his desk and into your arms. Your free hand brushed over his shoulder, a simple “Go,” leaving your lips before you strode back to your office to finish it in his stead. The woman who was barely holding her tears back at work for some unknown reason was called into your office, only for you to hand her a box of tissues and tell her to take all the time she needs before slipping silently from the room, leaving her in the privacy of the soundproof room. Your subordinates asked you about your change in behavior, but you only claimed that you had no idea what they were talking about.
Karma is familiar with this behavior, as it was displayed in the early stages of both your friendship and your relationship. You had always brought breakfast for him when you found out he was skipping it, you forcefully shoved your hand warmers into his chest when he failed to bring even a jacket to shelter himself from the winter wind, and you had wormed your way into shouldering his work load when you noticed the dark rings beneath his eyes. But every time he tried mentioning it, you mumbled a curt “shut up.”
Another thing you never spoke of was your wealth. Karma had noticed it the very first time you met. Your high-end clothing, the genuineness of the small diamond adorning your necklace, the expensive pocket-watch you pulled from your pocket only slightly in order to check the time--you were rather affluent, but you never made it obvious. The only way people would know is if they were familiar with the material and renowned names in fashion. You kept any clear indications of your wealth hidden, such as your pocket-watch, the bracelet speckled with precious gems that you kept concealed beneath your sleeve, and the clearly exorbitant makeup bag you only took out in private in order to touch up your makeup.
When others question you about it, you answer honestly, revealing that you are indeed wealthy. “I’ve worked for everything I have, and I am proud of that--Why didn’t I say anything? Well, that’s obvious. Just because I have money doesn’t mean that everyone else needs to know my business right off the bat.”
You spoiling Karma with the money that you earned yourself makes you seem even more attractive in his eyes, because not only are you willing to reciprocate his constant giving of gifts, but you’re capable of making money on your own. Boy, is he lucky.
You both are independent of one another, which makes your bond that much stronger. Your relationship is 50/50, with you giving and accepting in equal accordance with Karma, whether it be emotionally or financially.
