Curate, connect, and discover
Word Count: 2k
Synopsis: You save a tiny fairy. Gojo Satoru decides that you and him belong together, regardless of how little he is and how little you think of him.
(Warnings: Yandere, not many warnings in this one ngl)
The fae are a dangerous bunch. You've heard more than enough stories to be spooked. Sirens will sing beautiful songs before dragging you into the depths. Dragons will burn you to a crisp before a second's thought. Nagas would make sure you were alive until the very end as they feast on your organs. Centaurs would use their powerful legs to stomp yours to mere twigs. Driders would suck your blood until there's nothing left but a husk of your body.
You've never heard anything about fairies. They didn't live in your region. Their lands were high in the mountains, where humans rarely traveled. Also, they were so tiny, according to the books. The biggest seemed to be barely the size of your hand. They were harmless, you concluded. Harmless to humans. Harmless to you.
He had been harmless. At first, you thought it was a cluster of leaves in the stream, but as the current drew it closer, you noticed tiny arms and a tiny face. He was unconscious; you didn't even know if the poor thing was alive.
The Fae are a dangerous bunch, but saving one tiny fairy couldn't hurt, right?
Your guest quickly proved to be a bigger hassle than you initially thought.
When you brought him to your cottage, he laid in a basket of warm linen, asleep for hours near the warm fireplace. The blueberry pie was still hot when you turned around and caught him staring at you.
It was silent for a while, and then you said:
"Do you like sweets?"
That's how your tentative friendship with the other kind started. Gojo Satoru (you later learned his name) was a boisterous thing. He did in fact like sweets, which helped bribe his friendship. You're surprised that he ate so much despite his stature. Did all faires have black holes for stomachs?
He healed up rather quickly. At first, you were afraid that his wings had crumbled due to the prolonged exposure to water. But after stuffing himself full of the blueberry syrup, he smiled widely before flitting out your window.
You thought that would be the end of it, but then he just came coming back.
Apparently, your baking skills left an impact on the small creature. He didn't visit often, but when he did, you would always make sure you had something. Whether it be cookies, brownies, or that blueberry pie he was so fond of. Anything was good enough for Gojo's taste palette.
"In the fae lands," Gojo said when you prodded, "sweets are too sweet. Yours is just enough." You weren't too sure what he meant by that, but you took it as a compliment. You were sure the fae wasn't something who'd give praises so easily.
It's not like you were upset at providing food for your tiny friend. Quite the contrary. You loved it when Gojo visited. You found him fascinating, the way he could fly miles and miles above your head. How tiny he was. The amount of times you had to hold yourself back from squishing him between your fingers because of how cute he was scared you.
And you hoped you were fascinating enough to entertain Gojo. You had to be; you don't know why else he'd keep coming back. Even after gobbling down your cooking, he'd lounge around your home, entertaining you with his stories. You learned of the other magical creatures he was in contact with, the students he taught, and how fond he was of them. You don't know why he was so open about sharing his personal life with you, in the stories fae hated humanity, but you would never complain.
It doesn't click as to why Gojo's so invested in you until he comes out and says it himself.
"Instead of me coming back and forth like this, why don't you just come live with me?" He says, "I would cut down my flying time by a lot."
You stare at him in amusement, sure he's joking. "I'm not sure how I'd fit in your house." You tease. "I'd probably crush all your furniture."
"I can make my house bigger." He announces. "Don't worry 'bout it, just say yes."
You stare at him, slowly realizing that he isn't as amused. He's still smiling, but there's no joke.
"No," you finally say, "I'm not doing that."
He cocks his head surprised as though he's never had someone reject him before.
"What?" He asks, "Why not?"
"Well." You clear your throat. "For one, I'm human, and you're a fairie. I don't think Fae would appreciate a human wandering around in their lands."
"Who cares about all that?" Gojo waves his hands around. "You'll be with me, anyways. It'd be fine."
"I don't get why you're so fixated on the human realm." His mouth turns into a sneer. "It's all so boring. Nothing ever happens. And our magic is much more advanced than yours." It's true. You can't disagree with that. Satoru didn't wear clothes made out of leaves or vines, unlike the common fairy stereotype. His clothing looked much more advanced compared to your loose cotton dresses. A black shirt with intricate buttons and long sleeves. Along with black trousers. You wonder what material could make his suit so shiny.
You laugh at his disgust. At that time, you saw Gojo as a tiny child clutching their mother's skirts, a cute puppy. You hadn't yet taken Gojo Satoru as the threat he was.
"It's because I am human." You say, not offended by his remarks. "So I like being near other humans."
He groans as though your logic makes no sense. "Yuji and the others ask about you all the time, though. They've been dying to meet you."
"You talk to your students about the giant that cooks for you? I'm flattered."
"You're dodging," he warns. You roll your eyes.
"Satoru, I'm not coming to live with you. It'd be too much of a hassle." You finally say. "Besides, you're not my type."
"I'm everyone's type." He argues.
"Not mine." You smile, and then you make your first blunder.
"I like my men a little taller."
He stiffens, and you know you said the wrong thing. Your smile fades as does the cheery energy in your cottage. He says nothing, but he's zipping out your window before you can apologize.
He doesn't return for the longest time. You count the weeks. Guilt weighs on your shoulders, heavy and burdensome. Every day you bake something even tastier than the day before. Not even that is enough to coax him back.
You think you've lost him forever, when he returns on one sweltering summer evening.
"Hi." You blink. He's watching you, sitting idly on the window, kicking his tiny feet.
"Hi." He smiles.
You're happy enough to grab him with one fist and hugging him to your chest, but as always, you stop yourself. Instead, a shy smile rests on your face.
"I'm sorry," you say, "I really am...will you accept an apology pie?"
He grins wider, and you relax.
He eats, and you're grateful. Something you once cherished in your life has finally come back to you. You might not return Gojo's feelings, but you still care for him. You'd rather die than ever hurt him again.
"No, you're right." Gojo surprisingly concedes when you apologize for the third time. "We're too different. It'd never work out. Not as the way you are, right now."
You nod, grateful he's so understanding. "Exactly."
He's finishing up when he announces he brought you a gift.
"I've been working on it for the past few weeks," he cheerily says. "It took a while, but it's finally safe for human consumption."
He takes out a tiny glass bottle filled with something swirling and blue. When he asks you to bring a glass of water, you acquiesce. To your astonishment, when the elixer is poured, the entire water becomes a swirling mass of a color comparable to none other than galaxies. You're so mesmerized by the color, it's enough to stump your voice.
"For you!" He declares. "You've always been cooking for me; thought I might return the favor, just this once."
"What is it?" You ask, amazed by the color. You admire the glance, unaware of the glint in Gojo's eye.
"It's kinda like the wine you have in the mortal realms, but a little less poignant." He gives when you glance at him. "Go on, tell me what you think?"
You're too trusting, and so you make your second blunder.
Once you start, you can't seem to stop. The taste is otherworldly, addicting. You drink and drink, not wasting a single drop. You're breathing heavily once the cup detaches from your lips.
"Amazing." You say before looking at him. His eyes are too wide, but you're too distracted by the taste still on your tongue. "Seriously, what was that? Can I make it here?"
He scratches the back of his head. "Not really, the ingredients are pretty hard to find." He shrugs. "Besides, it's supposed to be a one-time use."
Your eyebrows twist, and then the world sinks.
You're falling. You think you are. You don't really know. Everything feels like it's stretching. The walls of your tiny little cottage get higher and higher and higher. The floor gets more and more warped. You're sinking, sinking through the air. When you scream, nothing comes out. You feel like you're choking because you can't breathe, and then your vision grows black.
The next time you open your eyes. It's still dark, and to your horror, you realize you're buried underneath something.
You panic, clawing and tearing your way out. The material gives away easily. It's fabric. Cotton. But there was so much, an undying ocean of fabric. You lift yourself up from the pile and that's when you realize you're completely naked.
The mountain of cotton you just climbed to the top of was your old dress.
Everything was gigantic—the table, the chairs. The windows seemed endless. The ceiling looked miles above you, and you know what happened, but your brain can't formulate it because it can't be—it just can't be.
There's a flutter of wings. You always thought he was so quiet before. Now, he's all you can hear. Immediately, you wrap your body with the cloth. It's hard to keep still; your body is buzzing with nerves and you still can't understand. You have to force yourself to look at him.
You don't know why you expected shock, guilt, something other than the pure manic glee on his face. Satoru towers above you, head tilted. He bends down, cupping your trembling face in his hand because he's big enough to do that now.
"Just when I thought you couldn't get any more adorable." He coos.
You can see him now. His skin isn't pale, it's borderline translucent. His canines are sharp and pointy. And his eyes. Oh God you've never seen eyes so terrifying before—an endless mass of blue, threatening to swallow you whole.
He wasn't a cute little fairy. He was anything but that.
"Gojo..." You start, heart squeezing. "What did you do.."
You know. He knows. That's why he ignores your question entirely.
"I'm surprised it worked." He says, mainly talking to himself. "Shoko said it might be a dud, and she was so sure of it, that I mostly believed her."
"But now look at you!" He roughly pinches your cheek. "You're the perfect size now."
"Stop." You blubber, pushing his hand off of you. "Don't touch me. Change me back. Change me back."
He frowns. "Why would I do that? You being human-sized was always such a hassle. Lumbering around. Way too loud. Don't get me wrong, I adore you either way." He proclaims like it's something benevolent. "But this has its charm."
He leans forward, and you scuddle backward in fear. His grin widens.
"So, am I tall enough for you, now?"
finally kicking out the fic that’s been a draft for three years:) ahaha…aha…ha if its obvious this was written for another character…no it wasn’t
(Warnings: implied non-con, implied drugging, college!AU, dark content)
Gojo Satoru did not like you.
He didn’t make it obvious. But, you could see the way he slowly inched away from you. And the fake fake smile he stretched on his lips anytime he was forced to talk to you.
It was a little offensive. You never obsessed about people liking you, but the fact that someone super popular would rather not exist when you were around…well, it stung.
It could’ve been worse. At least he didn’t openly admit his hatred of you. It was just the tiny, little things he did that made you know there were boundaries.
But you weren’t Gojo’s friend, you were Geto’s friend. Which meant, as much as you’d rather not to go the party celebrating their latest win, you were still dragged anyway.
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