Happyfunforever



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    “Truthfully I don’t know,” confessed Neuvillette. “How to love someone.”

    It was the day after his heat finally finished. Wriothesley stared blankly at him, the bags under his eyes as heavy as the smell of sickness that clouded him. Piles of clothes were scattered about messily across Neuvillette’s closet door. Not quite a nest, but something close.

    To his surprise, Wriothesley just laughed quietly. He watched as the omega walked towards him, and pressed his face against the crook of his neck.

    “If it helps, Monsieur,” he heard the man mumble. “I don’t know how either.”
    ---

    Neuvillette was not a human. He didn’t understand love, what it was, who defined it, or even why.

    But for the sake of someone he loved, he was willing to find out how to love him. In the best way he could.

    (A companion fic to my first story: L’oiseau Fait Son Nid)

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    08 Jan 2025

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    It is said that at the very depths of the dark forest, where the outside world and inner domain are divided by an ambiguous border, all colours fade to a white wonderland. Within this pure, supposedly untouchable realm, it is said that this is where the Forest God resides.

    Those who seek the safety, guidance, and wisdom of the Forest God must honour His covenant: do not question what is told, do not remove your gaze, and do not wander in His domain. Dishonour meant forfeiture—to what that entailed, it was not clear, lost to the generations of storytelling.

     

    This was an old legend that was told to Kim Dokja as a child to stop him from exploring the neighbouring forest, which, to be fair, was creepy and ominous. And in hindsight, he should have never considered it as safe haven from the other Things that trailed after his shadow, so close yet barely out of reach.

    Yet here he was, at ease.

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    14 May 2024

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    Kim Dokja isn’t surprised when he is jumped and has his blood sucked dry by a vampire on the way home. He has never expected to live beyond 30 anyway, and this way to die is actually quite interesting compared to what he’s been imagining.

    However, he doesn’t expect the vampire to frown, glare at him, say that his blood tastes awful, and insist that he go see a doctor.

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    22 Oct 2023

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    “If it bothers you that much,” Itadori starts as he sits, “You should just tell me your name.”

    Satoru doesn’t want to relate to this person—or anyone in general—so he answers firmly, “No.”

    “Then how should I call you? Gojo-sama? Gojo-kun? Bocchan? ”

    Satoru’s eye twitches.

    “Satoru,” he says, yielding not for the sake of acquainting with Itadori but to put a stop to any other ridiculous name Itadori can come up with.

    Itadori grins. He’s all rosy cheeks and white teeth it almost makes Satoru’s own hurt. “So, that makes you Satoru-kun.”

    Where Gojo is born a little late into the timeline and Itadori Yuuji crashes into his world.

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    03 Mar 2022

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    "Thanks, Yuuji." Satoru delightfully took the cup from Yuuji's hand, and the bare contact unshackled by Infinity sent lots of signals into his mind.

    Yuuji had given too much this morning, and Satoru had taken so much from him in this short period of time.

    Gojou Satoru had never been a giver. Ever since long, he was naught but a taker.

    Because other than being an accepter of fate's grim gifts, Yuuji was the giver here.

    And from what Satoru learnt from his years of exorcising, exorcising curses, was that things tended to disappear here if someone hadn't staked their claim on them.

    If Yuuji was a giver, then Satoru should be his taker.

    ~~~

    Of Gojou Satoru, spiralling over humans' simple concepts such as taking, accepting, and giving.

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    02 Mar 2022