#chapter 1: Boredom
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How to Read 108: A Chapter-by-Chapter Death Note Analysis
Hello everyone! Welcome back to second part of my analysis on Death Note’s first chapter, entirely dedicated to everyone’s favorite mass murderer, home boy Light Yagami!
Chapter 1: Boredom. Lilith’s Breakdown. Part 2
Establishing the protagonist:
Light and expectations
Light’s resignation
Light’s cognitive dissonance
Establishing the protagonist
In A Guide to Screenwriting Success, Stephen Duncan refers to them as the character who drives the story forward, who makes the key decisions that affect the plot, often being the one who faces the most obstacles. The OSU College of Liberal Arts says they are the character whose fate matters the most, and usually the emotional heart of the narrative.
There are many definitions one can find online about what a protagonist is, the most oversimplified ones defining the protagonist under the same veil as the hero. But most of us here know that isn’t quite how it works. Still, even though we might be used to anti-hero protagonists by now (Deadpool, Saitama, Dr. House to name a few…) straight-up villain protagonists are rarer to come by, and, most specially, they usually don’t come by in the form of a teenager--or look anything like the guy in the picture above-- which is perhaps the main thing that makes Light stand out in a sea of manga MC’s and remain culturally relevant.
Light is a blueprint of his kind, becoming the point of comparison for other animanga protagonists that fall through a moral decline. To showcase how Light differs from even his own architype, I’m going to be taking three of some of the most famous examples in media and intermittently compare them to Light Yagami in this analysis: Macbeth from Shakespeare’s Macbeth, Rodion Raskolnikov from Fyodor Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment and Star War’s Anakin Skywalker.
Light and expectations:
As we had seen in my previous post, we begin the story with a schoolboy disconnected from his immediate surroundings, his whole posture and expression reflecting the “boredom” that it’s the title of this chapter. His status as protagonist highlighted by the fact that he’s the only one looking directly at us. While all his classmates distract themselves with things inside the classroom (their friends, their books, their phones, or simply sleeping) Light gazes out the window, almost as if hoping that something external will offer more intrigue than the monotony of his current situation.
And he gets his wish! A notebook falls from the sky. We know what happens next. Light picks it up, as it is the only thing that’s interrupted his ennui. He’s initially unimpressed by it, although he commends whoever did it for at least committing to the bit.
Ohba doesn't reveal the true outcome of the event right away. Instead, he makes us wait, fast-forwarding five days before slowly unfolding the details. This deliberate withholding of information is a recurring technique throughout Death Note, fueling the tension and intrigue that characterizes the manga, leaving us eager to piece the puzzle together.
But the next set of panels is what I want us to take a closer look at this chapter:
If you know anything about Japanese culture, you’re probably aware of the immense importance that academic success has on a japanese student’s life. To give some context to what’s happening here, I’ll quote Independent researcher Steve Bossy on his report Academic Pressure and Impact on Japanese Studies from 2000:
“In 1872, the Meiji government introduced a public educational system that made higher education accessible to anyone who was intelligent enough to qualify. (…) The entrance examination became the sole instrument by which all students were measured. Tokyo University became the pinnacle of academic achievement and the gateway to future success. Only the most intelligent students were admitted and upon graduation were rewarded with the best jobs. (…) The university entrance examination is the gatekeeper that provides access to and ultimately determines students' future success and status. The university that a student attends is most often the sole criterion that employers consider in their decision to hire a potential candidate.”
It’s no wonder, then, that Light’s mom has been eagerly waiting for his results on the practice exam for this life-determining test. Although we have to take into account, Sachiko says he has placed first again, so his parents are pretty used to his academic success, and Sachiko was just eager for confirmation on her son’s competence. Light is so used to this by now he does not demonstrate any pride or enthusiasm about having placed first nationally on the practice test for what is arguably the most important exam of his life. Perhaps he might have, were it not for the much more significant matter occupying his mind at the moment, though I doubt it. As we’ve already firmly established: Light is bored.
So, we have already identified one expectation Light has: he is presumed to excel academically. By Japanese society standards, this is a promise his parents see of his successful future.
This is then reinforced by what his cram schoolteacher is shown to say in the flash-back: Light wasn’t just Japan’s number one in that sole mock test, he is already Japan’s number one student.
We can then add a new expectation:
Light is expected to keep his place as top nation-wide student and elevate the standing of the schools he attends.
Light doesn’t seem to find this to be such a difficult task though, considering the nonchalant way he brings the results to his mother. He is assured to attend the most prestigious university of the country, so then why, we may ask, does he even attend a prep school in the first place?
We can find the answer here:
In Japan, it is common for students to attend supplementary classes due to the intense competition within the education system and the critical significance of the entrance exam. So even top students like Light would be expected to attend these types of schools to give themselves an edge. Or as Light puts it: Serious, straight-A, model teenagers. This is who Light is—what he expects of himself and what everyone else expects of him: to embody the ideal of what a Japanese boy should be, to serve as a model others look up to, the standard by which they should shape themselves. Academically focused, respectful of authority, socially responsible, and attuned to societal norms.
Light’s resignation:
Now that we have established who Light Yagami is, let’s examine more of his initial thought process when presented with the seemingly impossible reality that the random notebook that fell from the sky is, in fact, a supernatural murder weapon.
As previously noted, we don’t immediately learn about Light’s reaction to his discovery. Instead we meet him again after he’s had five days to process his experience. Then Ryuk, whom we’ve already met, shows his rather unpleasant face to an unexpecting Light, and scares the pants out of the boy.
Or so it seems.
Despite the initial scare, Light has had the foresight to attribute the notebook to a Shinigami, and supposedly had been waiting for them to show up. Light, at this point, had fully accepted the supernatural explanation, and braved with a resolved face whatever consequence it might bring.
But how did Light recognize the connection to a Shinigami, and what does that mean in Japanese culture? The evolution of the concept of death is a fascinating subject, and while I recommend further reading on the topic (such as this article), to summarize: Shinigami are said to be the Japanese Grim Reaper, a relatively recent addition to their folklore, much as the Grim Reaper is for the West, and it was produced as a result of the increased interaction of these two cultures. A difference is that, traditionally, they are less seen as harvesters of souls but as creatures who ensure the smooth running of the cycle of life, performing their duty without malice and remaining morally neutral.
The Shinigami in Death Note are a fusion of these traditional Japanese beliefs and Western, particularly Christian, cautionary tales. This blending of cultural influences is a prominent theme throughout the manga (and anime), which I will explore in more detail in future entries.
But let’s go back to our protagonist. While both the Western Grim Reaper and the Shinigami ultimately bring death, Light doesn’t seem daunted by this prospect. This raises an important question: Did he have a plan to convince a literal god like Ryuk to spare him, or was he content with having made a difference, however brief? As Ryuk points out:
Ryuk, a timeless entity for all we know, singles Light out among what could be centuries of Death Note users. This continues to drive the point for the audience of Light being an extraordinary individual, now not just by his intelligence, but by his adamant determination.
However, Light’s apparent perfect composure in this scene is not entirely genuine. He is sweating profusely through this whole interaction--something that we will rarely see from him in the rest of the story. It makes sense, for its his life at stake here. But it gives us an insight into Light’s ability to suppress his natural human emotions in favor of retaining a sense of dominance and control. At this point, Light really cannot have any idea of what awaits him, or how to bargain with a being like Ryuk, yet he is intent on directing the exchange in his own terms. He even has a prepared Q&A:
I know the dramatic way in which Light swooshes open the notebook is sort of hilarious, but upon re-read, it made me think further upon this display with Ryuk. We know Light thought it wasn’t chance but choice that made Ryuk give him the Death Note, so did he want to demonstrate his worthiness to the Shinigami? His fearlessness? Did he have a whole speech planned on why he should be allowed to keep using the Death Note? After all, we learn seconds later that he had already formed his long-term plan of ruling the world, so did he plan to offer his soul, in pure Faustian manner, for the chance to wield the Shinigami’s power?
In the end, Light learns that there is nothing he has to offer—no bargain to be made. Instead, the conditions of the Death Note say he will experience fear and torment (which he has already done), that Ryuk will write his name when he dies (which results in the same thing) and that he can go to neither heaven nor hell.
This last one could be considered the greatest sacrifice, upon first read. But it is also a pretty neutral consequence that doesn’t promise reward nor suffering. Of course, it isn’t until the final chapter that we learn it isn’t really a sacrifice, as every other human shares the same fate.
Hence Light’s ecstatic look.
There is then a subversion to Christian narratives by keeping Ryuk’s role neither malevolent nor benevolent. He does not actively tempt Light to keep using the notebook, and even gives him a way out by offering the option of giving it to another human if he doesn’t want it. He has no interest in convincing Light of anything. This is similar to the role of the three witches in Macbeth, who instigate the narrative by sharing a prophecy, but do not manipulate or coerce Macbeth into taking any specific action. However, a key difference in the start of this story and that of Macbeth’s is the idea of destiny. Ryuk mocks Light for believing himself special, in contrast to the witches assuring that Macbeth would be a King. Light's confidence in his potential to rule the world is entirely self-driven, rather than being shaped by prophecy or fate.
Light’s cognitive dissonance:
Ah, we’re finally at the pivotal moment of this first chapter. The moment that will define Light’s character for us moving forward.
So finally, after Light’s interesting conversation with Ryuk we are thrown back into the flashback that explains how he came to write all those names. The events go as follows: Light was bored, so he decided to write a name on the strange thing he brought home-- just for the sake of it. Despite mostly believing the notebook to be a prank in bad taste, as a strategic thinker, he immediately envisions possible scenarios where it could be real and plans his actions accordingly. He even berates himself for this:
But of course, the Death Note works, exactly as the instructions said.
Up until this point, Light’s actions could be entirely written off as an accident. Kind of like a child shooting a gun because they can’t discern the danger of it. But the event is so monumental, so outside of normal bounds that Light’s young and curious mind cannot simply leave it be and risk another murder. He needs answers and he needs answers now.
Light is fully aware that his actions are socially reprehensible, which would explain why he decides to continue acting by himself. Not to mention the ridicule, too, were he to hand the notebook to the police and it turned out to have been just a coincidence. And Light Yagami is not socially reprehensible and he is not ridiculous. But there is something else, too.
Light Yagami feels detached and high above the world.
It’s natural, as he literally is above his peers in at least the standard by which they are more strictly measured. In a culture where academic achievement is synonymous with social value, Light’s intellectual superiority is reinforced by his position as the model student, but he is also a 17-year-old with a skewed sense of long-term consequences and proportionality, reacting with his amygdala to his immediate environment instead of keeping on with the cool rationality he believes himself to possess. An example of this is when he considers killing one of his fellow classmates for bullying and coercion. A rather minor offense when compared to the criminals Kira would first execute, and directly contradicting the first precaution he’d already thought for himself: to not kill anyone directly associated with him.
But then he conveniently finds a perfect target, another one that he can justify to himself in the context of preventing a heinous crime.
When the Death Note works once again, it finally confirms Light as a murderer, and this is when the cognitive dissonance takes place.
In psychology, cognitive dissonance is a mental conflict that occurs when your beliefs don’t line up with your actions. This discomfort motivates individuals to reduce the inconsistency, usually by changing their believes, justifying their actions, or minimizing their importance.
Light’s cognitive dissonance almost makes him wretch, makes him question himself and consider throwing away the Death Note, which he refers to as an ‘evil thing’.
But he begins to resolve this dissonance by reframing his believes in order to justify the new image of himself as a murderer. Light’s inner conflict plays out over at least a day, during which his conscious mental battle is not whether what he did was justified, but whether or not he will be able to take on the role that would justify it.
In the end, if he doesn’t take the role of a vigilante, he would have to face the breaking of his self-schema as a moral and upstanding citizen. But the decision to continue killing would also transform him into something else. This conflict between morality and identity is so strong those first few days, that Light admits to having persistent nightmares and loses 10 pounds in 5 days. But ultimarely, the dissonance is resolved with a perfect, if delusional and self-aggrandizing, moral justification: Not only is it right to become the world’s judge and executioner, but he is the only one capable of doing so.
An extraordinary cognitive re-structuring and self-deception in a relatively short amount of time. But then again, we have already reiterated throughout this meta that Light is not an ordinary individual.
And who better, honestly, to carry us through this particular story? What are the limits of these character’s self-justification? What are the consequences of a God’s power in the hands of a mere human? And what happens when a brilliant mind has to contest with a teenager’s inflated ego?
I wasn’t expecting to have this much to say about the first chapter, I’m looking at the page count of this document with a bit of terror, honestly, but it just goes to show how strongly Death Note manages to establish its main themes from its opening and all the questions it leaves the reader with, inviting us to take part of this unconventional psychological thriller.
If you read up until this point kudos to you and I hope you enjoyed my brain’s rambling, I would love to hear your thoughts and feedback. I don’t know if next entries are going to be this long, but I am enjoying finding new things to ponder about this series, that I hadn’t even thought about after 5 years of being a fan!
Next entry! Chapter 2: L. Lilith’s Breakdown
Previous entry: Chapter 1: Boredom. Lilith’s Breakdown. Part 1
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I have literally been burnt out so badly these past few months, pls give me some suggestions on what to draw? Literally anything!!! I MEAN ANYTHING
(stranger things or IT related ofc)
#byler#will byers#mike wheeler#stranger things#stranger things season 4#stranger things season 5#byler endgame#IT#IT chapter 1#IT chapter 2#reddie#stenbrough#nancy wheeler#jonathan byers#jancy#jancy endgame#reddie endgame#literally anything#I’m dying of boredom here#fanart suggestions
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I’m not sure if you’ve read the manga, but I was wondering if I could request “They Suddenly Pull You Away To Make Out” which Chika and Endo from Windbreaker?
They Suddenly Pull You Away To Make Out
PT.1 [choji . sako . natori . takeru . shiyu]
( ✧ ) ────── boyfriend stories . fluff/romance - gn!reader .
- [𝐜𝐡.] chika . endo .
- [𝐩:𝐬] Romantic Physical Intimacy . Mild Language . Emotional Vulnerability . Mildly Suggestive Themes
Note: Sure thing! Here's part two!! Also I DID read the manga (I'm not really caught up though with the newer chapters), and when you requested for chika and yamato I got so happy lol 😭.
Chika Takiishi
The summer festival in Makochi was in full swing, the air thick with the scent of grilled street food and the distant echo of taiko drums. Lanterns swayed gently overhead, casting a warm, golden hue over the bustling crowd. Amidst the lively atmosphere, you found yourself wandering through the festival stalls, captivated by the vibrant colors and joyous laughter.
Suddenly, a familiar figure caught your eye—a tall young man with striking red-to-orange hair that cascaded like flames down his back. Chika Takiishi stood with his usual nonchalant demeanor, his golden-brown eyes scanning the crowd with a mix of boredom and disdain. Dressed in his signature dark attire, he looked every bit the formidable leader of Noroshi.
As your eyes met, a smirk played on Chika's lips. Without a word, he began to walk towards you, his gaze intense and unwavering.
"Enjoying the festival?" you asked, trying to mask your surprise at seeing him here.
He shrugged, his eyes never leaving yours. "It's noisy. Crowded. But... tolerable."
Before you could respond, Chika reached out, gently grasping your wrist. "Come with me," he said, his voice low and commanding.
He led you away from the throngs of festival-goers, weaving through narrow alleyways until you reached a secluded spot behind one of the old shrines. The sounds of the festival faded into the background, replaced by the soft chirping of crickets and the gentle rustle of leaves in the evening breeze.
Chika turned to face you, his expression unreadable. "I don't do this... often," he admitted, his voice tinged with vulnerability. "But with you... it's different."
He stepped closer, his hand reaching up to gently tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "You make the chaos quiet," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.
Without waiting for a response, Chika leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both tender and intense. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as the world around you seemed to fade away.
The kiss deepened, a reflection of the unspoken emotions that had been building between you. In that moment, beneath the canopy of stars and the distant glow of lanterns, Chika Takiishi—the feared leader of Noroshi—allowed himself to be vulnerable, to feel, to connect.
As you pulled away, breathless, he rested his forehead against yours. "With you, I don't have to pretend," he murmured. "I can just... be."
The night stretched on, filled with whispered confessions, shared laughter, and the warmth of newfound intimacy. In the heart of Makochi, amidst the remnants of a summer festival, two souls found solace in each other.
Yamato Endo
The sun had just dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, amber glow over the quiet streets of Makochi. The distant hum of city life was softened by the gentle rustle of leaves and the occasional chirp of cicadas. You found yourself walking alone, the cool evening breeze brushing against your skin, when a familiar presence made itself known.
Yamato Endo leaned casually against a lamppost, his seafoam green eyes glinting mischievously under the fading light. His messy black hair, streaked with teal, framed his face, and the tattoos on his shoulders peeked out from beneath his sleeveless jacket.
"Out for a stroll?" he asked, a smirk playing on his lips.
You nodded, surprised but not displeased by his sudden appearance. "Just needed some fresh air."
Without a word, Yamato pushed off the lamppost and approached you, his gaze intense. He reached out, gently taking your hand in his. "Come with me," he murmured, leading you down a narrow alleyway that opened up into a secluded courtyard, bathed in the soft glow of string lights overhead.
The atmosphere was serene, a stark contrast to Yamato's usual chaotic energy. He turned to face you, his expression uncharacteristically serious. "I've been thinking about you," he admitted, his voice low. "About us."
Before you could respond, he stepped closer, his hands resting lightly on your waist. His eyes searched yours for a moment, as if seeking permission, before he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both tender and passionate.
The world seemed to fade away as you melted into the embrace, the warmth of his body pressed against yours. His fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened, conveying emotions that words could never fully express.
When you finally pulled apart, breathless, Yamato rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed. "You make me feel... grounded," he whispered. "Like there's more to life than just fighting and chaos."
In that quiet moment, surrounded by the soft glow of lights and the gentle night breeze, you realized that beneath Yamato's tough exterior was a man capable of deep affection and vulnerability. And in his arms, you found a sense of peace and belonging that you'd never known before.
#𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐑-𝐋𝐔𝐗𝐔𝐑𝐘#windbreaker scenarios#windbreaker imagines#wind breaker imagines#wind breaker x reader#wind breaker scenarios#wind breaker x y/n#wind breaker headcanons#windbreaker headcanon#windbreaker x reader#Chika Takiishi x Reader#yamato endo x reader
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"A UNIVERSE WITHOUT YOU" — Mark Variants x Fem!Reader Fanfic
CHAPTER 3 OF ?
CHAPTER 1 HERE / CHAPTER 2 HERE
(Mark Variants: Sinister Mark, Mohawk Mark, No Goggles Mark, Prisoner Mark, Bald Mark, Goggles Mark, Sheisty Mark, Omni-Mark & Viltrum Mark)
WARNING: Heavy smut, Violence, Emotional and physical abuse, Non-con (at first)
SMUT WITH A PLOT!

SYNOPSIS —
You exist in a world that should have been safe. But safety is an illusion, and so is peace.
They arrive like a plague, tearing through your city with hands built for slaughter, eyes sharpened by obsession. Mark Grayson—many Mark Graysons—each one twisted, each one wrong. They have hunted you across universes, through blood and ruin, through lifetimes lost to grief. And now, they have found you.
Sinister Mark is the first to taste you, the first to carve his claim into your skin, his hunger slow, deliberate—inescapable. But the others will not be denied. Mohawk Mark wants you wild and breathless, a creature of instinct. Hoodvincible, all fury and need, wants to break you into something that belongs only to him. Prison Mark, silent, watching, waits for his turn to unravel you with patient hands. Each of them will take you. Each of them will ruin you. And you—
You will learn what it means to be wanted.
His words hang heavy in the air.
A pronouncement. A sentence.
You do not accept it.
You refuse.
Your body moves before thought can catch up, every muscle coiling, every instinct screaming. You twist, kick, shove—fingers curling into fists, teeth bared like an animal caught in a hunter’s snare. You are not gentle. You do not beg.
Mohawk barely reacts.
Sheisty, watching, laughs—a sharp, delighted sound, rich with amusement.
"Oh, shit," he snickers. "She’s got spirit."
Mohawk hums, unimpressed. His grip remains ironclad, barely shifting as you fight. It’s insulting, how little effort he has to exert, how he treats you like a toy rather than something dangerous.
"Yeah, yeah," he mutters. "It’s cute."
Then, with a sharp yank, he crushes you back against him, your struggle rendered meaningless in an instant.
"You done yet?" he asks, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, voice laced with something condescending, something dark. "Or do I gotta remind you who’s in charge here?"
You don’t answer. You won’t.
But your silence?
It delights him.
He exhales, a low chuckle rumbling through his chest.
"Alright then."
Then—
He lets go.
And you fall.
The wind screams past your ears, cold and howling. The world rushes up to meet you, a kaleidoscope of fire and ruin and broken things. Your stomach lurches, your pulse thrashing wildly in your veins.
You don’t even have time to scream.
Then—impact.
No, not the ground. Not death.
Mohawk.
His arms snap around you, catching you effortlessly, his body a wall of unshakable strength. He holds you midair, just inches above the city’s broken bones.
A fraction of a second later, and you would have been nothing.
He laughs.
It is obscene in its pleasure.
"See?" he grins, pulling you close again, his fingers pressing bruises into your skin. "Told you. I’m in charge."
Your breath is ragged, your heart hammering against your ribs, but you say nothing.
He drinks in your silence like it’s the most satisfying thing in the world.
Then, with a casual ease that makes you hate him all the more, he descends.
Your feet touch the ruined pavement.
You drop.
Not from weakness, no—but from the sheer violence of your body’s rebellion. Your knees buckle, your arms limp at your sides, your head heavy. You are shaking, but you do not sob.
You will not give them that.
Mohawk watches you with satisfaction, rolling his shoulders like he’s shaking off the weight of boredom.
"Man," he exhales, shoving his hands into his pockets. "That was fun."
Sheisty, still hovering nearby, tilts his head.
"You’re fucked up, bro," he comments, though his grin betrays nothing but approval.
Mohawk just smirks, nudging you lightly with his boot.
"You alive down there, sweetheart?" he teases.
You glare at him.
He laughs again, full and rich, like this is all just a game.
Sheisty crouches beside you, his presence a heat you do not want. His fingers brush under your chin, tilting your face up so he can get a better look.
"She looks real pretty like this," he murmurs, voice low, appreciative.
Mohawk hums in agreement.
"Yeah. Shame Sinister ain’t here to see it. He’d lose his mind."
Sheisty chuckles.
"Bet he’s already tearin’ through bodies tryin’ to find her."
You stiffen at that.
Because you know it’s true.
Sinister will not tolerate this.
He will not share.
Mohawk sees the realization settle in your expression, and he grins.
"Oh, you get it now, don’t you?" he muses. "You’re ours now. And Sinister? He’s gonna do whatever the fuck it takes to get you back."
Sheisty leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin.
"Hope you can run, baby," he murmurs. "’Cause this is just startin’."
Then—
A voice.
A presence.
Calm. Unshakable.
"Enough."
The word cuts through the space like a blade.
Your stomach drops.
You turn your head—
And see him.
Omni-Mark.
Standing just a few feet away, watching the scene with an expression as cold as carved stone. He is not like the others. There is no amusement in his face, no grin, no wicked glint in his eye.
He is a stillness. A force.
A storm waiting to break.
Sheisty straightens slightly, exhaling.
"Shit," he mutters. "Look who finally showed up."
Omni-Mark does not acknowledge him.
His gaze is only on you.
And it is—
Unnerving.
Slowly, he walks forward, his movements unhurried, deliberate.
"Stop playing with her," he says, voice even, measured. "We’re not here to waste time."
Mohawk exhales sharply, rolling his eyes.
"Relax, man," he drawls. "We were just havin’ fun."
Omni-Mark stops directly in front of you.
"You call this fun?"
His tone is unreadable.
Mohawk shrugs.
Sheisty grins.
You?
You cannot move.
Because when Omni-Mark looks at you—
It is not hunger.
It is not amusement.
It is possession.
A claim written in the silence between heartbeats.
You feel it.
Like iron tightening around your throat, a noose cinching tighter with every second that passes. Their eyes on you, their hunger suffocating, their need as endless as the destruction surrounding you.
You should be afraid.
You should be broken.
Instead—
Something inside you snaps.
Like a thread pulled too taut, like a caged animal that has finally bled against the bars one time too many.
"Enough," you spit, the word raw, seething. Your voice cuts through the air like a blade, sharp enough to wound. "You disgust me. All of you."
Silence.
Then—
Sheisty lets out a low, amused whistle.
Mohawk grins like you’ve just whispered something filthy into his ear.
Omni-Mark remains still.
For a moment, you wonder if your words have landed, if they have struck something deeper—if these men, these monsters, can feel anything other than the sickening hunger that gnaws at them like rabid dogs.
Then Mohawk steps closer.
"You hear that?" he murmurs to Sheisty, his grin widening. "Disgust, she says."
Sheisty snickers.
"Yeah? Ain’t stoppin’ her from lookin’ real good right now."
Your hands curl into fists.
"You think this is funny?" you snap, your voice laced with fury. "You think any of this is a game?"
Mohawk exhales sharply, amused, like you’re a feisty pet growling at its owner.
"Oh, sweetheart," he drawls, "I know it is."
His hand raises—too fast, too close—aiming for your face.
But you are faster.
Before you can think, before you can stop yourself—
You slap him.
Hard.
The sound echoes, sharp and brutal, your palm stinging from the impact.
Silence falls.
For a moment, you dare to believe you’ve shocked him. That you’ve hurt him.
But then—
He laughs.
Low, dark, dripping with delight.
"Ohhh," Mohawk breathes, tilting his head, eyes bright with something dangerous. "I like you."
Before you can move, before you can brace yourself—
Pain.
A sharp, brutal sting that blossoms across your cheek. Not enough to break you, not enough to leave you ruined—but enough to remind you what he is.
Enough to remind you who holds the power here.
You stumble slightly, your vision flaring white for a second, but you refuse to fall. Refuse to give him that satisfaction.
Mohawk watches you with something like admiration.
"Still standin’?" he muses. "Damn. You’re tougher than I thought."
Omni-Mark’s voice cuts through the space like a knife.
"Enough."
It is not loud. It is not angry.
But it is absolute.
Mohawk clicks his tongue, rolling his shoulders.
"Man, you’re no fun," he mutters.
But he stops.
He doesn’t touch you again.
Omni-Mark’s presence looms, his gaze unreadable, his expression carved from stone. He does not look at Mohawk.
He only looks at you.
And that is somehow worse.
Because in his eyes, there is something new.
Not amusement. Not lust.
Something deeper. Something colder.
Something you do not want to understand.
Before you can dwell on it, before you can react—
The world shifts.
Arms wrap around you from behind, crushingly tight, a rush of wind swallowing you whole—
And suddenly, you are gone.
Lifted into the sky, stolen yet again.
A sharp, barking laugh echoes in your ear, hot breath brushing against your skin.
"Damn, girl," Sheisty chuckles, his grip firm, unyielding. "They keep arguin’, and you just keep gettin’ passed around like a fuckin’ prize."
Your stomach lurches as he ascends, the ruined city shrinking below you.
You hate this.
You hate this feeling.
You hate how easily they take you, how effortlessly they trade you between their hands like a thing to be owned.
"Put me down," you snarl.
Sheisty only laughs harder.
"Now why the fuck would I do that?" he teases, adjusting his grip. "You just got way more interesting."
You twist, fighting against him, but it is useless.
The air is cold, the wind whipping against your skin, and you realize with a bitter, aching fury—
You are tired.
Tired of running.
Tired of fighting.
Tired of being passed from one nightmare to the next.
And worst of all?
They know.
Sheisty feels it in the way your struggles weaken, in the way your breath comes harsher, in the way your fury is still there but wrapped in exhaustion.
"Tired, baby?" he murmurs mockingly, his grip tightening. "Don’t worry. I’ll take real good care of you."
Below, in the ruins, a storm is brewing.
Mohawk, still grinning, is watching. Omni-Mark’s gaze is locked onto the sky.
And somewhere, unseen but inevitable—
Sinister is coming.
And when he does—
The world will burn.
The wind howls at this height.
It whips against your skin, sharp as knives, biting through your exhaustion as you are dragged higher and higher, Sheisty’s grip like iron around your wrist.
When he finally lands atop the tallest skyscraper, he drops you.
Your knees hit the concrete, the city stretching out beneath you like the corpse of a fallen god—burning, ruined, lost.
"You look good up here," Sheisty muses, towering above you, his silhouette carved against the moonlight. "Like a queen lookin’ down at her kingdom."
You glare at him, every muscle in your body wound tight.
"Not a queen," you snap. "A prisoner."
He smirks.
"Same shit, different name."
Before you can speak, the air shifts again—
Two shadows descend.
Mohawk lands first, his bloodied grin splitting his face as he cracks his neck. Omni-Mark follows, silent, his gaze unreadable.
"You fly too fast," Mohawk says, walking toward Sheisty, unbothered by the height. "Almost thought you were tryna keep her all to yourself."
Sheisty snorts. "I was."
Mohawk laughs. "Yeah? Guess we got the same problem."
You grind your teeth, nausea twisting your stomach.
They talk about you like you’re nothing.
Like you don’t even need to be here to hear it.
Like you belong to them.
Before you can snarl something back—before your frustration and fury can boil over—
The sky rips apart.
A sonic boom shatters the air, a roar of movement so fast it feels like thunder splitting the heavens.
And then—
Sinister lands.
The building shakes beneath his arrival, his cape whipping behind him, his entire body taut with violence.
His eyes find you immediately.
And something in them burns.
A hunger deeper than all the others.
A possessiveness so sharp it could cut the world in half.
Mohawk exhales sharply.
"Fuck, man," he mutters, shaking his head. "You really don’t like sharing, do you?"
Sinister doesn’t move.
His fists are clenched. His jaw is tight.
His entire body is wound like a live wire—one wrong move, and he will break.
"You took her," he says, his voice low, deadly. "Again."
Sheisty tilts his head.
"Yeah," he says. "And?"
Sinister steps forward.
And they move first.
Sheisty and Mohawk strike, their bodies colliding with his, trying to contain him—
Not to kill.
Not to win.
But to stop him.
"Listen, man," Mohawk grits out as Sinister throws him back, "we get it, alright? You wanna keep her all to yourself." He dodges a strike that nearly caves in the building. "We all do."
Sheisty, blood smeared across his knuckles, laughs through his teeth. "But this?" He wipes his mouth. "You really think you’re gonna take on all of us?"
Sinister breathes hard, his chest rising and falling like a beast caged inside his own skin.
Then, before he can answer—
Another voice cuts through the dark.
"You’re all wasting time."
No Goggles lands.
Then Goggles Mark.
Then Prisoner.
Then Viltrum.
Then Bald.
They arrive like specters, like ghosts drawn to the scent of blood.
A twisted congregation of monsters.
And all of their eyes are on you.
Your stomach lurches.
The air is suffocating, thick with something worse than hunger, worse than want.
This is possession.
This is claim.
Prisoner crosses his arms, eyes flicking over the others. "If we fight over her all night, she’s just gonna end up in pieces."
No Goggles smirks. "Or dead."
Goggles Mark tilts his head, his voice cold, monotone. "Which would be a waste."
Viltrum steps forward, looking at Sinister. "You can’t kill us all," he says simply.
Sinister doesn’t answer.
Because he knows.
They are too many.
He could fight until the city crumbles beneath them, and it would not be enough.
"Come on, man," Mohawk wipes blood from his jaw, grinning. "We don’t gotta kill each other over this."
Sheisty scoffs. "Yeah. We can just share."
Your blood runs cold.
Share.
Like a thing. Like an object.
Like you are nothing.
You stare at them, your hands clenched into fists, nails biting into your skin.
"Go to hell," you whisper.
Silence.
Then Bald laughs.
"Damn," he mutters, looking at you with something close to amusement. "She still thinks she’s got a choice."
No Goggles grins. "Cute."
Goggles Mark doesn’t smile, but his voice hums with something dark. "Resistance is inefficient."
Sinister’s jaw locks.
But he says nothing.
Because he knows.
If he fights—
He loses you entirely.
So he breathes, heavy and deep, and when he looks at them again—
He agrees.
Not with words.
Not with anything so simple.
But with silence.
And that silence seals your fate.
You take a step back, the edge of the building behind you.
There is nowhere to run.
Nowhere to hide.
They are too many.
And they have already won.
You are suffocating.
Not from lack of air.
But from them.
From the weight of their eyes. From the quiet, crackling tension that wraps around you like barbed wire, slicing into every inch of your being.
You stare at them—all of them—these monsters shaped in the image of one man.
Your body shakes with rage. With something raw, something uncontainable, something clawing up your throat like a scream that could bring the whole world to its knees.
"You—" Your voice cracks, fury splintering through every syllable. "You destroyed everything."
The city burns beneath you, broken by their hands. By their war.
By their hunt for you.
Mohawk laughs, his head tilting, his grin sharp enough to cut glass. "Yeah. And?"
Your stomach twists.
"You think I care about this place?" No Goggles leans forward, his tone mocking, almost bored. "About them?" He gestures to the city, to the thousands—millions—of lives reduced to nothing but dust and corpses. "You know damn well we don’t."
Prisoner crosses his arms, his expression cold. "All this?" He motions to the destruction around him. "Just a small price to get you back."
You flinch.
They talk about it like it’s nothing. Like none of it matters.
Like you should be grateful.
Your fingers curl into fists. "Back?" Your breath shakes. "Back?"
Sheisty chuckles. "Yeah, sweetheart. Back."
Sinister moves then, slow and deliberate, until he is standing too close. Close enough that you can feel the heat of him, the sheer violence caged beneath his skin.
"You," he says, voice like crushed stone, "are supposed to be ours."
You shake your head.
"You’re insane," you whisper. "All of you."
Sinister’s lips curl. "Maybe."
Mohawk snorts. "Definitely."
Omni-Mark’s gaze is unreadable, his voice calm. Too calm. "You misunderstand."
You glare at him. "Then make me understand."
They exchange glances, silent messages passing between them like something unspoken, something ancient.
Then Bald steps forward.
"You died," he says.
Your breath stutters.
"In every world," Goggles Mark adds, his voice a chilling monotone. "In every timeline."
You blink.
Your lips part.
"That’s not—"
"It’s true," Viltrum Mark cuts in, his expression unreadable. "In each of our realities, we had you once." His fingers twitch, curling into fists at his sides. "And then we lost you."
Silence.
Heavy. Unbearable.
Your pulse pounds. "How?"
No Goggles grins, but there’s something jagged in it, something that hurts. "All sorts of ways, baby."
Mohawk’s gaze darkens, his voice laced with something twisted, something almost fond. "Sometimes you were taken from us."
Sheisty nods, cracking his knuckles. "Sometimes you tried to leave."
Omni-Mark speaks next, calm and cold. "Sometimes we were the ones who killed you."
Your breath catches.
You step back.
But there is nowhere to run.
Sinister exhales slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. "I always lost you the fastest."
His voice is quiet. Almost reverent.
Like your death is a prayer he has whispered a thousand times.
"Every version of you," he continues, "always fights me." His fingers twitch. "Like this one does."
You shake your head, your heartbeat hammering against your ribs. "I’m not her."
Prisoner tilts his head. "You think it matters?"
Goggles Mark adjusts his gloves, his tone eerily indifferent. "You are her. She is you."
Bald smirks. "And this time, we get to keep you."
Your skin crawls.
Your mind races.
Their words repeat, looping in your skull like a curse.
You died.
In all of their worlds.
You wonder how.
You wonder what he did.
What they did.
Sinister steps forward again, so close his breath ghosts over your lips.
"I crushed you in my hands," he murmurs, his tone a thing of death, of violence, of worship. "Held you too tight. Let your ribs crack one by one like snapping twigs."
Your stomach lurches.
Mohawk leans in, his lips brushing your ear as he grins. "You ever seen what happens when a body hits the ground from space?"
You try to shove him away—
He grabs you instead, fingers digging into your arms, his strength unbreakable.
"You screamed so pretty," he hums. "Right before you popped."
Sheisty clicks his tongue. "Mine bled out slow."
Viltrum Mark rolls his shoulders, his expression unreadable. "Mine never even saw it coming."
No Goggles laughs, voice bright with amusement. "Mine fought so damn hard."
You shake your head, chest tight, breath ragged. "Stop."
Sinister grips your chin, forcing your gaze to his.
"Not this time."
Your stomach twists.
"Not this time."
The words echo, low and final.
A verdict. A sentence.
A fate sealed by the weight of their obsession.
Because in this world—
They will never lose you again.
@nerdgirlbutinpink @weaponxgames @martinys-world @gothixxx666 @fairii-majii @doves1120 @vm4879bb-blog
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#invincible x y/n#invincible x you#invincible imagines#invincible headcanons#invincible x reader#invincible#invincible variants x reader#invincible variants#mark grayson variants#mark grayson x reader#mark variants x reader#mark variants#sinister mark#mohawk mark#no goggles mark#prisoner mark#goggles mark#sheisty mark#bald mark#omni mark#viltrum mark#x reader#x you#x y/n#smut#fanfic#fanfiction
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Aftermath - Chapter Six

When Lando leaves you heartbroken after you get tired of trying to make something out of nothing for far too long, Max steps in to help you pick up the pieces.
Aftermath - MV33 - Chapter 1 Aftermath - Chapter 2 Aftermath - Chapter 3 Aftermath - Chapter 4 Aftermath - Chapter 5 Master List
warnings: lando isn't in this one, chat :) but angsty upon angst and that's all i'll say. ENJOYYYYYYY pairing: max verstappen x leclercsister!reader word count: 4.9k
(As usual thank you to @lestapiastrisgirl for holding my hand and helping me with the middle of this. You’re the bestest 🫶🏻)
Something had happened in Belgium. You didn’t know what, but something had happened. You could feel it. That was the only thing that explained Max’s sudden coldness towards you. It was textbook Lando treatment that you recognized from a mile away. The fact that Max was now treating you like this broke something in you that you haven’t even realized existed.
At first you thought you were just being paranoid. A by product of spending the last three years being punished and ignored for the smallest offense. You’d developed an extra heightened sensitivity towards silence and your pattern recognition that you had honed during your time with Lando made you overreact to the smallest slight. You were always too sensitive though, isn’t that what Lando always said when you asked him the same thing? When you begged him to communicate with you, to tell you what was bothering him and what you could do to fix whatever you had done to offend him.
So when Max insisted everything was fine while also avoiding you for the fifth night in a row, you knew something was wrong. Anxiety sat so heavy in your chest the night you had texted him asking if everything was okay, you could barely concentrate. You tried to ignore it first, tried to bury the desire you had to go up to his apartment a few floors above you despite him telling you he was busy, just to ask him face to face what was going on. You were almost brave enough. Almost trusted yourself enough to know that what was going on wasn’t all in your head. But in the end, you couldn’t.
Lando didn’t make it any easier. After returning from Belgium last week, he hadn’t let up on the full court press of love bombing. You had stayed strong so far though, unable to even begin to picture yourself back with him. Belgium had been a disaster. You had known after the second sip of your drink that you couldn’t go back to him. Your skin crawled when he had wrapped his arm around your waist, attempting to pull you in close as you walked away from Max that night. You knew why he did it, to show Max that you were his. It was a possessive thing and it made your stomach churn. You’d spent so long begging for the bare minimum that the sudden attention Lando was paying attention to you made you nervous.
So when Jade called you Friday evening to ask if you wanted to go out dancing, you had agreed almost instantly. You needed to get out of the house, knew that staying cooped up inside while you knew Max was upstairs ignoring you and Lando was in your phone begging to let him take you out to dinner (somewhere public where you’d no doubt be captured on camera, of course), was a recipe for disaster. You didn’t want to go back to Lando but you knew boredom and anxiety were a terrible combination that made for poor decisions
Both Arthur and Charles were in Italy, doing testing for Ferrari in different capacities so it was just Jade, you, Alexandra, and Lorenzo’s fiancé Charlotte left to go out. It had been ages since you’d been out with the girls and as you zipped up the Ferrari red silk slip dress, you could feel in your chest this was going to be a good night. A few moments after you spritzed on a dash of perfume, your phone chimed with a text from Alexandra saying they were waiting for you in the car they had hired for the night.
The night is cool, the warmth of the day melting away when the sun set below the horizon but you only had a quick walk from the car into the club. Your names were all on the VIP list, of course, being Charles LeClerc’s little sister had it’s advantages after all, so you didn’t need to worry about an extra layer. The moment you step into the club, the heat overwhelms you and you’re glad you only have the silky slip dress on.
The steady beat of the music washes over you, dim lights calming your frayed nerves as you allow the crush of the Friday night crowd carry you towards the VIP section. You know this place like the back of your hand, you’ve been coming here since before it was technically even allowed. Who’s going to say no to Charles LeClerc’s little sister? Absolutely no one. You know the where the best places are to sit and watch, the best places to go and dance, to lose yourself in the loud music and crowds. Alexandra captures your hand in hers as she weaves her way through the crowded dance floor, her eyes set on the VUP section across the club. Behind you, Jade’s fingers are laced tightly in yours and you know Charlotte is bringing up the rear, the designated mother of the entire group.
Once in the VIP area, you break off telling the girls you’re going to get a drink while they find the table that’s been reserved for you four. You knew you could wait for the bottle service girl to come take your order but you needed a moment alone and wanted to silence the anxiety in your head quicker with the help of a drink.
The bar is crowded and it takes you longer than normal to fight your way up to the bar. You don’t mind though, the strategic negotiation it requires for you to get your body, warm and heated from the bodies around you, is a welcome distraction from the thoughts of Max and Lando bouncing around in your head. You desperately hoped Lando was anywhere else in the world right now, knowing that this place was one of his regular haunts when he was in town. That was the last thing you needed but you were fairly certain he wasn’t here tonight. It seemed as if Lando had a sixth sense where your whereabouts were concerned and if he hadn’t spotted you as you crossed the dance floor twice, he probably wasn’t around tonight.
You order a double vodka cranberry, knowing that the girls will give their orders to the waitresses in time, and turn around to make your way back towards the table across the room. The moment you start back towards your friends, you’re met with a sight that steals the breath from your lungs.
Max.
Max on the stage with the DJ, hat turned backwards, tight black t-shirt straining against his well muscled biceps as he swayed back and forth to the music. There was what you assumed a gin and tonic clutched in his hands and as he slammed the drink back with a vigor that surprised you, it felt as if your stomach dropped out of your body, straight to your feet. Wasn’t he supposed to streaming with Redline tonight? That’s what he had told you just hours earlier, wasn’t it? Your first instinct is to defend him though and you think maybe he’s just taking a break from the 24 hour race or he wasn’t needed to help the team after all. There had to be an explanation as to why he was now blatantly ignoring you. There had to be.
You stand there, frozen, in the middle of the dance floor so long that several people jostle you trying to get around your frozen body. You can’t seem to tear your gaze away from where Max is leaning in to listen to something the guy next to him is saying. You recognize him as a friend of his and Charles, an businessman in Monaco that you barely remembered meeting. Maybe he was here for something related to his business tonight?
On the stage, Max stood, gin and tonic in hand, hoping that his fifth drink of the night would dull the pain that had gripped at his throat near constantly since that morning in Belgium. He knew, of course, he was being an asshole by ignoring you but he was panicking. He hadn’t realized how deep he was with his feelings for you. Hadn’t realized how much you had come to mean to him in such a short time. Things had always been platonic with you in the long history of his friendship with you. Or so he thought. So the way his chest had clenched so painfully when Lando implied that you had spent the night with him before the race had caught him so off guard he had needed several moments to remember how to breathe.
He knew, deep in the back of his mind, that he needed to talk to you about it but he couldn’t. That morning in Belgium, you had overslept and had missed all of the pre-race rituals. You had gone straight to Ferrari hospitality so Max hand’t had a chance to ask you about what Lando had told him. By the time he got out of the car, finishing P2 that week, he was exhausted and ready to go home, not wanting to face you anymore. He wasn’t angry, not at you. He was bitterly furious with Lando and his attempts at capturing your attention again but he wasn’t angry with you. But at the same time, he couldn’t bring himself to approach the subject, to ask you if what Lando had said was true or just him taunting Max. He didn’t know if he was going to be able to handle the answer if you confirmed what Lando had told him and that had a feeling of panic settling deep in his bones that he was still, a week later, trying to get a handle on.
His gaze drifts lazily over the crowed form his spot on the stage. He knows the DJ performing tonight very well and likes the ability to be above the crush of the bodies below on the dance floor, so the stage is always his first choice when he comes to this particular club. When his eyes drift over a familiar pair of doe-eyed brown eyes, looking up at him with a look of utter confusion and crushing sadness, Max nearly drops his drink.
Fuck.
He freezes, breath catching in the back of his throat as your gazes clash. He watches as your brows furrow together, anger and pain flashing brilliantly across your pretty face and his heart clenches so painfully he has to grip the side of the DJ booth to keep himself upright.
Fuck.
He was so fucked.
Why had he thought it was a good idea to lie? He wasn’t streaming tonight. He had come up with that lie off the cuff when you had texted him, the guilt of lying to you not heavy enough to stop him from typing out his response. He knew it was cowardly, avoiding you. He had no excuses for it but the last thing he had expected to see tonight was you starting up at him from the middle of the crowd.
You tilt your head to the side as if you can’t understand what you’re seeing, a frown tipping down at the corners of your full lips. They’re painted a pretty red tonight and Max knows he’s never seen anything more beautiful. He watches as your bottom lip trembles a bit as you connect the dots in your head. You know. You know he’s been avoiding you despite his insistence that he’s fine. That you’re fine.
When you spin on your heel, moving towards the VIP section at a clipped pace, Max knows he’s fucked up so bad he’s unsure that there’s a way back from this. But he has to try.
You hear Max calling your name somehow, above the din of the music and chatter of the people that fill the bar. The alcohol in your system does nothing to curb the pain slicing it’s way through your body with each painful heartbeat that thuds loudly in your ears. The look on Max’s face when he spotted you in the crowd was so devastating you could barely breathe. Chest heaving, you do your best to avoid the people in the crowd, desperately needing a breath of cool air that you know you won’t get until you get outside.
Alexandra spots you first, her face dropping in confusion at the look of utter panic on your features. “What happened?” She assumes it’s Lando at first but then she spots the blond Dutchman following closely behind you.
Oh shit.
“I need to get out of here.” You panic, sweat beading on your forehead, hands cold and clammy.
Jade stands instantly, spotting Max’s panicked face right after she clocks the panic on your face. Hadn’t you mentioned that Max was busy tonight? Something about streaming with Redline? Why was he here, trailing after you, face as panicked as your pale one.
“Come on.” She reaches for your hand as she stands, putting herself in between you and Max. She doesn’t know what’s going in but by the look on your face, she knows its nothing good. She could kill Max for whatever it is he’s done, even if she doesn’t know exactly what is offense was.
Alexandra and Charlotte stand immediately as well, a physical wall between you and Max now as he desperately shouts your name over the chatter of the club. “What the fuck did you do?” Charlotte hisses, barely resisting the urge to toss her drink in his face.
“I fucked up.” Max says, voice sharp with anxiety.
“Yeah, I can see that.” She fires back as she watches Jade lead you through the crowd towards the door. “What the hell did you do, Max?”
“I lied to her.” Is is only response because how else is he going to explain what he’d done to one of your sister-in-law.
When Max goes to follow Charlotte and Alexandra towards the door, Alexandra spins on him. Her face is a mask of rage and contempt for the man standing in front of her. “I don’t know if you did this on purpose or what, but she’s been through enough without you fucking with her head too. Leave her alone right now, she doesn’t need another man to break her heart.” She yells, anger coloring her tone and causing several heads to swivel in her direction. “How could you, Max? How could you? Knowing what she’s been through and you lied to her? About what? Were you with another girl? Are you that stupid, you idiot?”
Max hangs his head, knowing he deserves the public tongue lashing Alexandra is giving him. “No, there’s no one else. I just…I didn’t know what to do so I made a stupid mistake. Let me go out there and talk to her, I can explain.”
Alexandra laughs, cold and bitter, while shaking her head. “Absolutely not. You’re not going anywhere near her right now. We didn’t protect her well enough from Lando and I’m sure as fuck not making that same mistake twice.”
“You can’t keep me from her, Alex.”
Alexandra shakes her head. “I know, but I sure as hell can keep you away tonight. Give her some time and then you’d better do some really good groveling, Max. I don’t even know the full story but from the way she looked at us just now, you’ve fucked up big time.”
Max drags his sweaty palm over his face, groaning to himself. “I know. I know. I’m such a fucking idiot.”
Alexandra gives him a curt nod. “You are.” She bites out before turning away with Charlotte, leaving Max standing alone in the club.
It took several days for you to even entertain the idea of speaking to Max. He called you frequently and sent even more frequent text messages. Each voicemail, each text message was full to the brim with emotional apologies, promises to explain himself, and more. You felt yourself swayed several times, almost responding a few times but each time you pictured Lando doing the same exact thing to you and your stomach churned with nauseous anxiety.
Finally, in the middle of the week after the incident, Max had had enough. He’d tried to be patient, telling himself that the calls and texts were enough, but when he woke up that Wednesday morning, he knew he had to try more. He could feel it deep in his chest that he was about to lose you for good if he didn’t try something drastic.
A call to Charles was all that was needed to find out you were at your studio that afternoon. He was honestly surprised that Charles had even taken his call, sure that Alexandra and Charlotte had filled him in on what had gone down last Friday. But Charles knew Max. He knew that the Dutchman had fucked up but he also knew that it had been a mistake and Charles knew something else that Max hadn’t even realized. Charles knew that Max was in love with is little sister and that whatever he had done, it had never been with the intention to hurt you. He was still mad as hell his stupid decisions had caused you harm but he also knew that if he stood in the way of the apology that Max knew he had to make, you would be miserable for even longer.
Because that’s what you were in those days between when you saw Max in the club and when he found you in your studio: miserable. You couldn’t quite work out what you had done to deserve the lies that he had fed you in the week after Belgium. You ran through every moment of the weekend, right up until the last moment you saw him on Saturday night. Everything had been going well up until Lando had found you and swept you away. You had promised Max you could handle yourself and maybe that was where you went wrong. Maybe he was angry you had gone with Lando to talk. But it had only been that: talking.
The alert for your security system at your studio sounds in the middle of the afternoon, telling you that there’s someone at your door. The office building where your studio is doesn’t have a doorman so you’ve had this system set up since you moved your art in a few years ago. The notification beeps on your phone, pulling you out of the staring contest you’d been having with the painting you had started that weekend you had been alone in Monaco while everyone was in Austria.
It was nearly finished but you’d been struggling with the last bits, trying to get it all pulled together. Nothing felt quite right with the last finishing touches and you were afraid to put anything more on the canvas because you desperately didn’t want to ruin it.
So when the alert yanked you back down to earth, you were thankful for the interruption. Until you opened the app and saw who it was waiting for you, that is. The video showed a distraught looking Max pacing back and forth outside the doors of your studio. As he waits for you to come to the door, he walks the short hallway, hands stuffed deeply into his pockets. A few moments pass and you just watch as he rakes his hands through his blonde hair, turning it into a rumpled mess that looks so good you hate yourself.
Something in the way his shoulders sit, hunched and folded in on the rest of his body, sets your teeth on edge. There’s dark smudges under his eyes like Max hasn’t been sleeping. You’d spent the last few days comparing him to Lando, wondering how he could have even consider treating you this way. You couldn’t understand how he could have been so cold towards you, not after he had watched Lando do the same thing to you for years. It didn’t make any sense.
As you watch him on the video feed though, something sticks out to you. Lando never looked like this after a fight. Never regretted the way he treated you. Never was apologetic or thought he was in the wrong. Just by watching Max’s posture you could tell he was a mess. You could tell just by looking at him that he knew he had fucked up and it was slowly destroying him from the inside out. And that difference was what had you walking towards the door of your studio, opening it moments later.
“Baby.” Max sighs, his entire body sagging with relief so profoundly that he has to catch himself on the door frame.
The term of endearment that had been a favorite of Lando’s sounds so much different passing through Max’s lips that it nearly has you weak in the knees. It sounds reverent when Max says it, like he’s about to get on his knees and worship you just because you’re standing in front of him. Like he can’t live another second knowing that he’d managed to hurt you in such a devastating manner. Like he’d do anything to call you baby for the rest of his life.
You almost give in at that moment. Give into his pleading blue eyes. While Max seemed much more distressed than Lando ever was, you knew you had to stand your ground. Men have been pushing you around left and right lately and you were tired of it. One apologetic look from the Dutchman wouldn't be enough to break down the walls you had recently needed to reconstruct because of him.
"What are you doing here, Max?" You voice was harsher than intended, but it was taking everything in you to stand firm in your decision.
Max just stares at you, utterly unable to form a sentence that can explain what he’s feeling in his chest. You hold his intense eye contact, despite not wanting to be laid so bare underneath his gaze, because you simply can’t function with the way he’s looking at you. “Say something, Max!" You plead. "Why’d you lie to me? Why’d you put me through the exact same thing Lando did over and over for three years? Why’d you break my heart?” You hate yourself for the way your voice shakes when you speak.
The questions are sharp daggers aimed straight for his heart and they strike true with each syllable. Shame burns at the back of his neck, sending uncomfortable pricks of heat dancing up and down his spine. The way you’re looking at him from under thick lashes, begging him for a satisfactory answer is enough to undo his entire soul right then and there.
The pain that settles into Max’s every muscle aches so fiercely he sways on his feet. He’d never meant to do this to you. Never meant to hurt you in this way.
“I was scared.” He murmurs as he closes the distance between you two.
His answer is so simple yet so infuriating you scoff. “Scared of what?”
“I was scared to put a voice to what’s really going on in my head because it’s too soon and I don’t want to lose you.”
“So you just blew me off? Max, you ripped a page right out of Lando’s handbook. I was spinning around for weeks, WEEKS! Trying to figure out what the hell I’d done to piss you off because the silence? The silence was deafening.”
Max rakes his hands through his blond hair, the tension between you two bulidng to a point where it’s going to break you both if you’re not careful.
“I didn’t…” Max struggles for the words, utterly undone by the look you’re giving him, your eyes begging for an explanation that you can make sense of. “Seeing you walk off with Lando that night in Austria was devastating and that scared me. I didn’t realize how far gone I was for you until you left me in that lobby.” Max drags in a shaky breath, trying to find the right things to say.
“You’re still healing from all that Lando’s done to you and you don’t need an added layer of drama. And then I ran into Lando the morning after and he told me…” He continues, letting the words hang in the air, as if you know what should be at the end of his sentence.
“He told you what?” Your heart hammers in your chest waiting for him to answer. “What did he tell you, Max?”
“He told me what happened that night...That you spent the night together.” Having to say those words out loud made them so real to Max. This conversation right here was what he’d been avoiding now for God knows how long but there was no going back now.
Your stomach drops straight through your body, down into your toes. “He what?” You sputter, so shocked that you can’t even begin to wrap your head around what Max has just confessed.
"I saw him in the lobby the next morning and he said you wanted to get back together with him. I didn't know what else to do after he told me so I ju-…" Max stops short, his gaze darting away from your own to focus on something past you over your shoulder.
Confusion pulls at your features as you turned to follow his line of sight.
Your stomach lurches, a wave of nasuea hitting you straight in the gut. He was staring at your painting. The one you were painting of him.
"Max, that's not finished yet. No one was supposed to see…" Your panicked words dying on your lips.
Max doesn't spare you another glance, his eyes solely trained onthe portrait of him splashed across the canvas in bold reds, blues, and yellows.
He places a careful hand on your shoulder, gently guiding you out of the doorway, allowing him to enter your studio completely. His steps are unhurried as he crosses the space to see the piece up close.
This was it. You could feel what was coming now. The rejection. The taunting. The humiliation. Your secret was out and he was finally going to see that you thought of him as more than just a friend. He had to know now as your slight obsession was coming to light. You opened your mouth to come up with another excuse for why there was a canvas of Max taking up so much space in your studio. You had to salvage this, but the words just wouldn't come.
"This is from my win last year," He turned to you in that moment, his blue eyes swimming with more than just his unshed tears, "From Brazil right?"
You're only able to nod. The sky on the canvas is dark, exactly how you remember it being that day. You had watched Max go from P17 to P1 in some of the worst conditions you’d ever seen from your couch and remembered the intense mixed feelings you’d had during the race. It had been a season defining race for Lando, who had been inconsolable for days after. But a piece of you, a bigger piece than you were willing to admit to yourself at that time, had been over the moon excited for Max. Watching him celebrate the win after such a hard season had been etched into your bones that day and this painting was a result of that.
The knots in your stomach tie up your tongue in ways you couldn't control. Your world was spiraling, completley out of control, and you didn't know how to make it stop. Max was never supposed to see the painting you had poured your heart into over the last month or so. Not after he had treated you after Belgium. Not after what he had done to you in the club. You had decided that your feelings for him had been unfounded and you had intended to hide it deep in a closet so no one would ever see your heart plastered so blatenly across the canvas like that.
"You didn't sleep with Lando, did you?" The words are a whisper as he continues to stare at the canvas.
Your heart lurches, "God, no! Max, absoltely not."
"I'm such a fucking idiot." He turns to you then, his face a mask of anguish and regret. "I thought that you were getting back with him and that's why I pulled away. I thought you were still in love with him and I didn't want to get in the way of your happiness, even if that meant you going back to him."
The moment Max had laid eyes on the painting though, he knew he had been wrong. He knew you well enough to know how much emotion you poured into your art and knew that there was no way you didn't feel exactly the same way as he felt about you.
"Lando was never going to make me happy, Max." You whisper, fingers suddenly itching to touch him.
"I could make you happy." He says, voice raspy with emotion.
"I know." You nod as the first tear slips down your cheek as Max closes the distance between you two in just a few strides. When his arms slip around your waist and he pulls you close to his body, you pratically melt into him. He's so warm and soft and it's everything you thought it be, being held by Max like this.
Max drops his head into the crook of your neck, nuzzling at the soft skin there. "I love you."
Your knees nearly buckle at his confession, a silent sob wracking your body. "I love you too."
And then he kisses you.
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Devourer👑(Scar!Leona x Yuu) 01
Leona got everything he wanted, except for one thing. After 7 long years of being king, Yuu comes back into his life. As Yuu finds themselves in his nightmare, will they be able to "find " Leona and wake him? Or will they both be devoured?
Characters: Leona Kingscholar x Yuu!Reader (GN. No physical description for Yuu. They/Them pronouns. Yuu majors in alchemy at NRC.)
Words: 5k, 3rd person Notes: A darker AU based on Leona’s Chapter 7 Dream. Part 1 of ??? Not sure if I will continue this AU but it was fun as an exercise to write a bit of more of a darker and sinister Leona for once. LMK if you like this sorta thing?
Parts: Part 1, Part 2
CW: Murder, Slight Dark themes??, Pushing of physical boundaries.
Tagging: I will be tagging in comments!
--
From the moment he took the throne after his brother’s death, whispers filled the kingdom, unease and ridicule trailing him like a shadow. He remained in the heart of the people as a scar of a prince on the divine oligarchy’s legacy. A black stain of spilled ink over the Sunset Savanna’s entire proud history. Once seen as a prince with little promise, he had sat as a king for seven long years now, ruling with an iron fist and a sharp tongue.
The “when” was foggy now, a few months, a year ago? Leona, as they used to know him, had personally recruited them to head an experimental “agricultural development program,” aimed at alleviating the famine gripping the kingdom. Yuu supposed he found out about their internship and majors sometime after they graduated. The years after Night Raven College had been hard and their old school life seemed almost idyllic compared to the world outside. After their friends scattered to the winds to start their own lives, Yuu had been left behind to pick up the pieces of a shattered life. Alchemy, the study of magical plants, was one of the only ways to make them feel competent in a world surrounded by people often more powerful than themself. They had gotten quite good at it, but it felt surreal to be bestowed such an “honor” from a king after so many years.
They hadn't seen Leona Kingscholar in nearly a decade after all. --
It was rounding the third hour of a meeting, and the afternoon heat was blistering. Yuu was slumped in their stone chair, mind starting to wander, eyes lulling dangerously closed. After a brief silence, a single voice broke the once-quiet discussion of the royal budget, and their trance.
“Your Highness! We cannot afford to execute this plan! This…aid program to provide outreach to the Outlands.” The council member never even bothered to look over at Yuu themselves. Even when he was implying their very existence at this council was an unwelcome one.
Seated around the oval table, each other council member avoided Leona’s piercing gaze. However, Yuu’s eyes flicked to the man seated next to them. The king was draped lazily across his chair, his expression one of equal parts calculation and boredom.
Oh? Their eyes widened, the elders rarely stood their ground with him.
“Hm? And why not?” Leona’s voice was low and menacing as his emerald eyes narrowed, deep voice cracking through the entire throne room. He was dressed in his standard black dashiki suit, its sleek fabric adorned with shimmering gold accents that seemed to catch the light with his every movement. The suit’s high collar stood proud, a dark canvas for the multiple beaded and gold necklaces that dripped over his chest.
"Your Majesty, diverting even more of our time and resources to the coastal neighborhoods is a mistake.” Councilman Griza, a giraffe beastman, braver than the rest, spoke again, his voice shaking only slightly. “Those…people have shown time and time again they are a threat to the capital. Offering aid will only embolden them, send mixed messages. Especially with how things have been as of late..." His malice made him braver it seemed, his resentment of the outlanders barely concealed.
“How convenient.” Leona sneered, slouching forward. His voice was a slow rumble, dangerous and intentional. “Of course, they’ve been aggressive. Anyone would be if they were historically treated like pests...starved, shunned, discarded.” He stood, palms slapping against the table, his claws scraping the stone discordantly. “They’ve been cornered, can't expect them not to bite.”
Each of his movements was a steady prowl as he circled the long table, his brown sash flowing across his shoulder. The councilman flinched as Leona suddenly stopped behind him, looming like a dark cloud over the man. “I think sometimes you all forget, I know what it’s like to be cast aside. And…to hunger for something denied.” His eyes scanned the table’s occupants and Yuu made sure to look down before he could make eye contact with them.
They knew their place, as the youngest and arguably least qualified…they tended to keep their mouth shut unless their opinion was asked.
He went on. “...Starve someone long enough, treat them like the dirt beneath your feet, and then when they lash out, suddenly they’re the problem? How noble of you to twist the narrative, Griza.”
Another councilman, Lord Danga, a zebra beastman, cleared his throat nervously. “With all due respect, my King, our resources are already stretched so thin this year. The Sunrise City’s people must come first, our people. Surely you can see that?”
Leona leaned forward, his sharp green eyes locking onto the man, his claws still tapping rhythmically against the back of Griza’s stone chair. “ Oh? Our people?” His voice was low and venomous. “Tell me something…Lord Danga. When you hoarded grain last season for your own settlements and let three nearby jackal villages go hungry, were those not ‘our people’? Or did they suddenly stop counting?” He shrugged.
“I-”
Leona cut him off with a sharp glare. “...And now you all want to sit here and preach to me about where my mercy should begin and end?”
An elephant beastman, emboldened by frustration, stood up. "It’s not about your mercy, Your Majesty. It’s about strategy! Strength! If we appear weak to those in the Outlands, those people will take advantage of us and our generosity as they have been the past few dry seasons!” He slammed his fist on the table.
Leona scoffed, his voice dripping with contempt. “Do you know what really makes a kingdom weak?” He leaned more of his weight against Griza’s chair, the legs scraping loudly across the stone floor, as he suddenly pulled the old man and his seat backwards.
The giraffe beastman in question froze and nobody spoke, even breathed. Yuu found themself barely able to swallow.
“Fear.” Leona hissed.
“Short-sighted, foolish, hypocrites who think power means hoarding everything for themselves.” He spoke slowly, his voice lowering with menace. “You all aren’t protecting this kingdom. You’re choking it.”
Griza stiffened below him, hazel eyes downcasted. Beneath his breath, he muttered something Yuu couldn’t hear.
“What was that?” Leona’s voice was sharp enough to cut.
“Hmph.” He tried to keep his lip stiff. “I... I only meant that... your father would have-”
“Go on. Finish that sentence…” Leona’s growling tone was dark, and dangerous, and his eyes glowed with a barely restrained fury.
The councilman’s lips quivered openly now, but he remained silent.
“...”
“I see. A lesson needs to be learned.” Leona exhaled sharply, his patience visibly thinning. “I don’t need comparisons, and I certainly don’t need your approval to do what’s right for my people, all of them.”
The room fell silent. Leona’s soft chuckle echoed through the room, cold and mocking. “Weak, huh?” He laid both hands on Griza’s shoulder, digging his claws into his white council member robes.
The man squealed like a stuck pig, trembling under Leona’s hand. There was no escape.
“Let me show you what real weakness looks like.”
Before any of the councilmen or Yuu could react, Leona’s fingers clenched and his knuckles turned white. He muttered a familiar incantation and the man stilled in his grip, before his body seized violently. Sand spilled from Leona’s fingertips, snaking around the old man’s face, frozen in fear as his panicked eyes darted to his peers.
It was over in seconds, he didn’t even have time to scream. No one did.
“You see,” Leona said, his tone casual as “Griza” crumbled into a lifeless heap of sand in the pulled-out chair. “True weakness is being so afraid of the past that it gets in the way of the progress of the future.” His hand made an exaggerated flourish.
He turned to the remaining council members, clapping the sand from his palms. “You call yourselves leaders, yet you sit here staring at me with your mouths agape…like frightened prey.”
He cleared his throat, sliding his claws through his dark hair casually as he paced back toward his seat. “…The coastal neighborhoods will continue to be eligible in our restoration project through the dry season.”
No one dared speak, except to echo one word.
“Yes…”
Leona nodded with finality. “Good.” He moved toward the throne’s platform, the weight of his authority filling the room as he climbed the steps, taking his rightful seat. “You’re all dismissed.” He waved.
The council members scrambled to bow before filing out, leaving Yuu alone with their new king, too stupid to move. They always heard you shouldn’t run from a predator.
While Leona stared satisfied at the pile of sand drifting from the empty chair, they forced their weak legs to work again, finally sliding from their seat at the table and retreating toward the throne’s steps. As Yuu stood rigid at the edge of the dais, their hands clasped tightly in front of them, palms sweating as they tried to still the faint tremor that betrayed their nerves.
The room felt impossibly quiet now, the air heavy with humidity and the unspoken aftermath of what had just transpired. A few feet away lay the remains of what was once Councilman Griza. a man whose leering gaze and oily words had made Yuu’s skin crawl on more than one occasion.
Now, there was nothing left of him but dust.
Their time assisting in infirmaries for their college internship taught them that death usually smelled like something: decay, burning flesh, blood but...here a man lay, as if he had been ripped from existence.
Nothing.
Yuu couldn’t bring themselves to look away from the dusty remains, though bile churned in their stomach anyway. They should have felt horror. Or grief. Anything other than this cold, detached emptiness and macabre curiosity. But Griza had been a contemptible man, a social-climbing parasite who had delighted in undermining Leona at every opportunity. Was it so wrong not to mourn him?
The silence stretched, broken only by the distant echo of footsteps as the council members continued to flee the room, their fear a tangible presence in the air. Yuu couldn’t blame them.
Their fingers tightened on the fabric of their own white robes, trembling creeping back into their hands. Drawing on every ounce of composure, they dipped into a shallow bow at the steps, the fabric of their clothing brushing against their knees. "Is there... anything else you require of me, Your Majesty?" Yuu finally asked, their voice soft but steady. Their gaze dropped to the floor as they clutched the folds of their robe like a lifeline.
Heart pounding in their chest, each beat was a sobering reminder that they were still alive...still here, unlike Griza.
Seeing them still there, Leona’s low chuckle rippled through the room, smooth as silk yet sharp enough to cut their composure.
They straightened cautiously, their gaze lifting just in time to see the king rise from his throne. When he moved, it was slow and deliberate, his footsteps echoing against the polished stone floor as he approached them.
"Anything I require?" he drawled, amusement coloring his voice. "How polite of you."
Before Yuu could respond, his clawed fingers curled under their chin, tilting their face upward. The warmth of his touch seared against their skin, forcing them to meet his piercing green gaze. Yuu’s breath hitched, their composure slipping for the briefest moment as his smirk deepened.
"You saw what happened just now," he murmured, his voice deceptively soft, almost a purr. "And this is your response?" His sharp black nail tapped on their chin, thumbing the divot below their bottom lip.
Yuu swallowed hard, trying not to think that this was the same touch that just turned a man to ash. The weight of his scrutiny pressed down on them like a physical force. His eyes searched theirs, sharp and unrelenting, as though he could strip away every carefully constructed defense they’d built. He studied their face like a puzzle he intended to solve, his smirk deepening when his eyes flicked to their hands, still pulling at the fabric of their robes tight.
“Tell me.” he started, leaning closer, the warmth of his palm seeping into their skin, a stark contrast to the cold knot forming in their stomach. "What do you really think?"
Yuu’s pulse thundered in their ears, their mind racing as they searched his face for some trace of the man they once knew. Wishful thinking. His proximity was suffocating, his presence an overwhelming force that left them no room to breathe.
No, this wasn’t the Leona they remembered, the lazy boy who had once scoffed at the pomp and circumstance of royal life.
The man before them now was a king, his sharp edges honed to a deadly point by years of bitterness and isolation. He wore his title like impenetrable armor, his every movement, and word laced with the weight of his new authority.
“I-” They looked up at him.
His hair, once unkempt and free-falling, was slicked back from his forehead, threaded with faint spirals of grey that hadn’t been there in his youth. The heavy makeup around his eyes only deepened the shadows beneath them, giving him a look far older than even his thirty-three years. His gaze seemed to be shadowed with exhaustion that no amount of sleep could cure.
Yuu swallowed hard, their throat dry. They wanted to laugh, to make some cutting remark about personal space or his newly acquired dramatic flair. But those days were long gone. They were no one of consequence to him anymore, just another servant standing before a terrifying king. One who could crush them as easily as he had Griza.
Still, they couldn’t bring themselves to lie outright. They forced a weak, bitter laugh, the sound surprising even them. “Well…sir. I can’t say I ever shed any tears for Councilman Griza," they admitted, their voice quieter than they intended. "And I suppose I'm a little biased on the success of the restoration plan." They shrugged.
Leona’s chuckle was low and rich, sending a shiver down Yuu’s spine. His grip on their chin loosened, his hand falling away only to settle on their shoulder, still leaving char marks on their jaw. His claws lightly grazed the fabric of their clothing as he prodded them toward the throne.
"No one would," he said, his tone tinged with amusement. "The man was a perverted old bastard."
Yuu allowed themselves to be led further by their king, their steps measured as though they were walking a tightrope with him. The weight of his hand on their shoulder was impossible to ignore, a silent reminder of their wildly unbalanced power dynamic.
He stepped back, gesturing for Yuu to follow as he made his way to the throne. With a lazy grace, he dropped into the large seat, his arms draped languidly over one of the armrests as though the events of the day had taken no toll on him at all.
"C’mere." he said as casually as he might have back in school, motioning to the small space beside him. "Sit. I won't bite."
Yuu hesitated, their stomach twisting as their gaze flicked between him and the space left on the cushioned seat.
Leona’s gaze never left them, the weight of his command impossible to ignore. Slowly, they moved over, beaded sandals echoing in the large empty room. They started to lower themselves onto the left side of the throne, their hands gripping the armrest as if anchoring themselves to reality.
There was barely room for the both of them. Yuu sat down cautiously, making sure to leave at least a few inches between both their legs. They looked down at the colorful beaded bangles on their wrists and adjusted them as they settled in.
Leona leaned forward slightly, his smirk sharp. "Now," he said, his voice low, "No bullshitting. Tell me what you truly think of what I did."
Yuu’s breath caught, their pulse pounding in their throat. They met his gaze, their own expression carefully guarded, They inhaled deeply, steeling themselves. They knew the wrong answer could cost them, and so could the truth. It was a dangerous game, and they were far from certain they could win against him.
One thing was clear, there was no turning back now. He intended to play with them.
The answer was simple. He wanted them all to witness it. That’s why he did it.
"I think…" Yuu began, their voice measured, "You’re trying to prove something. To the council. To the kingdom. To yourself." The truth left their lips easier than they thought possible.
Leona’s eyes narrowed slightly, though his smirk didn’t falter. "And what, exactly, do you think I’m trying to prove?"
Yuu hesitated, the weight of his question pressing down on them. They chose their next words carefully, heart racing as they stared into his sharp green eyes.
"That you’re…strong enough to lead," they said finally. "That you deserve to be here."
For a moment, the air between them was charged with unspoken tension. Then, Leona leaned back, his smirk softening into something that almost resembled a genuine smile.
"Interesting theory," he said, his tone unreadable.
Yuu couldn’t tell if that was a good thing, or if they’d just sealed their fate. They took a steadying breath, relieved that Leona seemed somewhat satisfied with their response. His sharp gaze, however, told them the conversation was far from over.
“One more thing,” he said, his tone deceptively casual. “There’s something else I want to know your thoughts about.” One of his brows quirked upward.
Yuu straightened slightly in their corner of the throne, their posture still cautious. “Your Majesty?”
“You seem restless, little mouse. Tell me…what else is on your mind?” His voice was low, almost a purr, but the demand was razor-edged. “No sugarcoating it either. No filter. Honest thoughts about everything.” He held a palm in the air between them, but it felt like a trap.
Leona’s eyes tracked Yuu’s every move as they absorbed his words, seeming to just notice how they sat slightly off-center, leaving space between them and his leg.
As if any physical distance could ever shield them from his intense scrutiny.
Yuu exhaled a breathy laugh, the sound strained. Their head spun from the abruptness of his request. In the time since their arrival at Leona’s behest, he had spoken to them so sparingly, and never this directly. It was almost as if they were strangers all over again.
“Everything?” they asked, stalling for time. “That’s a lot to cover.” They hesitated before adding, softly, “I mean-” They struggled on where to begin. “It’s… good to see you, Leona. I mean…Your Majesty.” The correction felt clumsy, a verbal stumble that reminded Yuu just how much had changed. The man sitting beside them was not the same person they’d once known. The thought tugged painfully at their chest.
“Not to be uh- rude but…you do look tired…” they ventured cautiously. “I heard the Sunrise City folk have been organizing more protests. Challenging the authority of the palace.” Their voice softened. “It can’t be easy to deal with.” They diverted his question slightly, bringing up recent events.
“I mean…” Yuu’s gaze drifted to the pile of sand that had once been Griza, then back to Leona. The question tumbled out before they could stop themselves. “H-how are you…feeling?”
Leona’s expression remained impassive as he studied them and their words. No doubt he noticed how their eyes lingered on him, searching for traces of the man they’d once known.
A man he himself knew no longer existed.
He let out an irritated huff, his eyes flicking briefly to the pile of sand too. “It’s becoming more of an annoyance than an actual threat,” he said, his tone dismissive. Then his gaze returned to Yuu, sharp and unyielding. “...You really want to know how I’m feeling?”
Yuu’s ears perked up at the question, hearing the doubt in his tone. It was the most candid he’d been since their arrival. His guardedness, the impenetrable walls he’d built around himself, seemed to crack, if only slightly.
“Oh.” Yuu blinked, startled. “Yes, Your Majesty. Of course! You can… talk to me about anything.” Their words were soft, formal, yet tinged with sincerity as they nodded.
Leona scoffed bitterly, the sound carrying a weight of frustration. “...Ever since I became king, everything I had before is gone. No more days of slacking off, no more carefree moments of not giving a damn. Now, it’s just this...” He gestured lazily around the grand but empty throne room. “...the kingdom and its endless turmoil.” He paused, his expression unchanged, but his emerald eyes burned with emotions left unspoken.
“And now, I don’t even have the one thing I truly wanted.”
Yuu’s breath hitched as they watched him watching them from the corner of their vision, their carefully maintained mask slipping. “But…Your Majesty, isn’t this what you wanted?” They gestured to the ornate throne room too, its vastness a testament to his new status. “To be king?” They relaxed slightly as they spoke, a whisper of the old melancholic Leona slipping through in his words. For a fleeting moment, he felt less distant.
Leona’s lips curled into a faint, sardonic smile, wrinkles creasing around his darkened eyes. “What I wanted? What I really want…” He leaned closer, his voice low but searing. “...is to go back to when I was free to do whatever the hell I wanted. When I wasn’t stuck in this…damn throne room, surrounded by…traitors and sycophants. No one I can trust or talk to, to…be by my side.”
The honesty in his tone made Yuu’s chest tighten.
“You of all people should know that,” he said, his gaze piercing as a crooked smile tugged at his mouth.
They had wanted to keep their distance, but Leona's words landed heavy in the silence between them, the soft weight of his confession pulling their heartstrings. There was a rawness to his tone that unsettled them. As if their prior words had stirred something deep inside him, memories they had once shared, secrets only they both knew.
Leona’s broken smile felt like a ghost, haunting them both.
“I’m sorry…” Yuu looked down, their voice barely above a whisper. They wanted to…to empathize with him, but the memory of Griza’s death still hung heavy in the air, a grim reminder of the man he had become. “I do know, Leo-” The name slipped from their lips again before they could stop themselves. “I mean…Your Majesty.”
Leona’s scoff was softer this time, almost wistful.
"I guess...things were simpler back then, huh?" Yuu gave him a nostalgic smile as the coolness of the back of the throne soaked into their robes. The few inches between the two of them felt like a cavern now. “I…don’t envy you. Being king must be…” They struggled to find the word, a tightness in their own chest. “...lonely.” Their voice dropped.
Yuu hesitated before speaking again, the silence between them like still, uncharted waters. “...What can I do to help, Your Majesty?” They dared to ask again, creating a ripple they weren’t sure if they wanted to cause. As they met his gaze, they knew they could no longer hide the sadness they felt for him, for both of them, at how things turned ended up.
He breathed out.
“I never asked for this. I never really wanted this, ya know.” Leona said, his voice flat yet laced with an unmistakable pain.
“I know…” Yuu felt the full weight of his gaze settle on them, searching, pressing his grief onto them. His eyes flicked over their face, taking in every subtle shift of their expression, the sadness they thought they had hidden beneath a veil of stoic composure. He saw them. And they knew he saw them, mourning for what both their lives once were.
It was a silent accusation, a subtle reminder that the walls they had worked so hard to erect were not as impenetrable as they thought. And yet, there was an unsettling tenderness in his eyes that made Yuu’s breath catch, slipping like a dagger under their ribs.
“But, there’s nothing you can do, even if I wanted ya to…” he said, his voice quiet but firm, the words weighted with resignation. The tension in the air only thickened, a heavy silence; screams muffled with years of unspoken words and unhealed wounds.
Yuu’s eyes burned. They felt the sting of tears gathering, but they blinked and fought to keep them at bay, clawing at their bracelets on their wrist once more. They were unraveling at the edges, and for a fleeting moment, they feared the years of their trained professionalism would slip if they sat next to the miserable king any longer.
They couldn't break character.
"You're right, I’m sorry," Yuu confessed, wiping at their eyes with a hasty swipe of their arm. Their voice cracked as they spoke, an unintended tremor in the words. “I guess I should go, continue my work then, sir?” They stood, hoping to escape the suffocating intensity of this moment between them. “Your Majesty…” They bowed again, then stood there, waiting.
But, Leona didn’t dismiss them.
Before they could take another step, the king’s arm shot out like a whip, taking their wrist with surprising force. His touch was firm but desperate, pulling them back down onto the throne with him.
Yuu’s breath was taken from them, and before they could even process what was happening, they found themselves falling and plummeting...straight into his lap. The impact left them breathless, their heart pounding wildly against their ribs. Leona shifted his body, catching them easily and wrapping his arms tightly around their waist, pulling them flush to him, their back pressed to his chest. His chin came to rest on their shoulder, his breath warm and shaky against their skin. Without words, he buried his face in the crook of their neck, nose tip tracing their pulse point.
His smell was the same from all those years ago, cinnamon, citrus, star anise. Yuu could practically feel it, the tension and desperation pouring off him like an electric current. It was all they could do not to scream, for both of them.
“S-stay,” he murmured, his voice hoarse, crackling with emotion. “I don’t want cha to go.”
Yuu’s body went rigid, heart hammering; a frantic rhythm in their ears. The warmth of his body, the weight of his arms around them. It was all so achingly familiar, yet the desperation in his grip felt foreign. This wasn’t the Leona they had once known. His loneliness clung like a heavy shroud, smothering them both in the savanna heat. There was something darker, more urgent beneath it all now, more intense than anything they remembered, a weight, a suffocating pressure. His loneliness seeped into them, and it clung to their chest like an immovable boulder.
They couldn’t breathe. They couldn’t even move.
“Your M-majesty?” Their voice trembled, a flicker of uncertainty breaking through the facade they had carefully crafted. They froze, unsure how to react, caged in the snare of his arms like a helpless animal.
“I thought…” Yuu stuttered, still breathless, their voice barely a whisper. Their sweat caused their clothes to stick to multiple points on their body. “I thought there was nothing I could do t-to help?” Their body reacted to his touch against their neck, sending involuntary shivers down their spine. The tingles ran from their chest into their legs, and they couldn’t suppress the way their body burned under his invasive touch.
Leona’s grip tightened, pulling them even closer to him. He inhaled deeply near their ear, his breath shaky against the curve of their neck. They knew he could feel how stiff they were in his arms, the way their body quivered with a mixture of confusion, fear, and something else.
They knew he could feel their hesitance, but still, they stayed.
And that seemed to be enough for him.
“...You’re the only person in this fucking place that makes me feel like….myself,” he murmured, his voice soft, almost pleading. He whispered it as if it was the world’s most important secret. “That’s how you can help.”
Yuu’s chest ached. They wanted to empathize with him, comfort him, and understand. But, there was another weight in the room that couldn’t be ignored. A man’s remains still lay near, a grim reminder of what Leona had become in their years apart.
A king broken by his choices, a man who had spilled blood. Devoured his own remorse and morals long ago. And yet here he was, like a child clinging to their robes, desperate for the comfort of a bit of human touch.
Yuu closed their eyes, torn. Every fiber of their being screamed to pull away, to remember the man he had killed with their own eyes. But the ache in their chest grew, the heaviness of his loneliness, clawing at them. It was too much to resist indulging in. They knew it was wrong, toxic even but-
The desperation he felt for them was...intoxicating.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” they whispered, head light, their voice barely a breath. They closed their eyes, bracing for whatever would come next, but still, they waited, unsure if they had just stepped into a trap they would never escape from.
Leona’s body stiffened at their passive response, and a soft, almost satisfied hum escaped him.
Oh? So, he hadn’t expected them to stay on his lap, to offer any kind of comfort, but here they were: allowing him to have what he apparently so desperately wanted.
Slowly, Leona tilted his head, the outline of his lips grazing the skin of Yuu’s neck with the gentlest of touches. His grip remained tight, as though trying to anchor them both to this fleeting moment, afraid it would slip away if he didn’t.
“Say my name,” he whispered, his voice low and full of something almost frantic.
Yuu gasped, their body relaxing despite themselves. It somewhat disgusted them that they wanted to give in to him. The tension in their limbs began to loosen, and they instinctively pressed themselves closer to him, their body betraying all those emotional boundaries they had worked so hard to build.
"Leona," they murmured, their voice barely audible, a trembling whisper, just for him.
"Leona..." They repeated it as if saying his name was the only thing that could ground them both in this chaotic and messy moment.
They sensed his body react at the sound of his name, reverberating in the space around them. His chest shuddered behind their back, his grip on Yuu’s waist tightening. His claws gripped their robes to almost discomfort, trapping them even closer to him.
As he exhaled shakily, it was as if a sense of relief washed over him. Yuu felt the tension in the rest of his body release beneath them. “Again,” he whispered, broad nose tracing the shell of their ear. His voice was croaky, almost pleading.
Yuu’s heart raced, the warmth of his thighs soaking into theirs. Their breath quickened, caught somewhere between fear and longing, sweat beading on their forehead. They didn’t know how they had ended up here, sitting in the lap of the damn king after he murdered someone before their eyes. Then, offering him comfort with nothing but his name, and the weight of their body.
But here they were, and there was no turning back.
“...Leona,” they whispered a third time, sealing their fate. The name escaped their lips like a prayer, a desperate plea for the boy they once knew, the boy they had once admired, to come back. To claw his way through the cruel king he had become.
--
#Been plotting this one for weeks. I went a lil off the rails.💚#twst#leona kingscholar#leona kingscholar x reader#leona kingscholar x yuu#twisted wonderland#twst leona#leona x reader#leona twisted wonderland#disney twisted wonderland#bunnwich writes📝
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𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
Sukuna
[Chapter 1] Offerings
Story Masterlist - Next Chapter →

Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x f!Reader
*Just want to preface that this is a historical AU but there will be some historical inaccuracies so if you see something odd, don't point it out. Also this is still a curse AU! if that isn't clear with four-armed Sukuna. Anyway I hope you enjoy!! Any general story warnings can be found in the masterlist!
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Sukuna is missing something, he’s not sure what it is but he knows that he’s bored. He’s bored of everything that once thrilled him, tired of the same routine. But no matter what he does, he feels empty.
He’s done everything possible to soothe that boredom, which has come to the expense of many lives. It entertained him until it didn’t. Occasionally he does find joy in the horrors that he causes but it doesn’t feel like that’s enough anymore. There’s something that he’s missing, but he’s not quite sure what it is.
He has everything a man could possibly want– Although he isn’t exactly a man so his wants and needs are obviously different. He isn’t going to be fulfilled by the foolish ideals of happiness that men have. He doesn’t have much of a guide though, therefore he’s lost in how to fix his problem.
“Uraume.” Sukuna’s voice isn’t all that loud, yet Uraume nearly comes running to fulfill his request. The temple is uncomfortably quiet; everyone is ready to fulfill Sukuna’s every request, and their king does not raise his voice unless adrenaline rushes through him, or he’s upset. No one knows which is the worst of the two.
“My king.” Uraume kneels down before him. He’s quiet, too embarrassed to even bring up this question. It’s unlike him. Uraume is truly the only person that he respects which is why asking the question is hard for him to actually say. He wouldn’t trust anyone else with it though.
“What do men usually do?” He asks, which is odd for Uraume to hear. Sukuna was a man too, once upon a time. But he doesn’t remember that stage of his life, and he’s sure he wasn’t happy either which is the reason why he’s the monster he is now.
“I’m not sure.” They sound reluctant. “If you could be more clear, I can search for an answer.”
“Get out.” He orders, and they bow again before exiting the room. He wants to be left alone to gather his thoughts. He has all the time in the world to figure himself out, but he wants even more time. He doesn’t want to be bothered now of all times at the very least.
“There’s a woman with an offering.” A servant tells him from the other side of the tatami doors, followed by a shrill cry that makes a smirk come to his lips. That’s his answer.
Sukuna wants a successor.
“Take it to the servants, answer to her needs.” Sukuna answers, not really caring to listen to any requests. His mind is now preoccupied, detailing his next course of action. He needs to find the perfect woman to carry his heir, which he knows will be a hard task– Perhaps the hardest challenge that Sukuna has come by in all of his years of living.
“Please eat, Haru.” You put the bowl beside the young boy’s mat. You’ve been slowly watching your brother’s health deteriorate, slowly watching his death near. Worst of all, you have been looking for a cure that seems impossible to find because it’s not something that’s affecting anyone important.
It’s not a disease that’s affecting anybody else, really. It’s not infectious, you quickly found that out. You were glad about it at first, but then you realized that there’s no cure yet. Days pass by, and he gets worse. He refuses to eat anything, and when he does, he can’t keep it down for more than a few hours. His death is imminent.
“I did everything I could to get the right ingredients for your favorite food. Auntie made it extra special for you.” You make sure to tell him, but he can barely move. You kneel down beside him, grabbing his utensils and preparing a bite. “Just one bite, Haru.”
“I’m sleepy.” Is all he manages to mutter, and you feel a pull on your heartstrings. Your hand caresses his arm.
“Just one bite, okay? Then you can sleep all day.” You try your best to convince him. All he does is sleep, and no matter how many hours he sleeps, he wakes up tired. He prompts himself up, and you’re fighting back a smile– It’s barely any progress, if you can even call it that. “Open up.”
There’s a smile on your lips as you bring the food to his mouth, and he begins to chew. He takes the utensils from your hand, grabbing the bowl of food and putting it on his lap. You stand up and tell him, “I’ll get you some water.”
“He’s finally eating something.” You share with your aunt, making sure your voice is low since there isn’t all that much space. Her eyes go to him, and she really wants to say that it’s a sign of him getting better but it really doesn’t mean anything. Sometimes he eats everything that’s made for him, but he throws it back up.
“I really wish this meant he was getting better… But we both know that he’ll get worse tomorrow.” She responds, and you want to curse her for even mentioning it but you know she’s right. You don’t like hearing it though, you’re helpless. There’s nothing more you can do for Haru, you’re just waiting for the day to come.
“I really think he can get better.” Your eyes begin to feel with tears, knowing that you don’t even believe yourself. You’ve tried everything you possibly can, but you know that his time nears. You can’t just accept that fact though, he’s your baby brother, you can’t let him go. “Let me get his water.”
“I’ll get it… Think about what the medic said.” Your aunt reminds you of the visit from the physician. One that you’ve forgotten because you refuse to consider his one and only suggestion a possibility. The words flow back to your head,
“Your best bet is the deity up north. You have to bring him an offering, and if he deems it worthy enough, he will cure him.” “But if he thinks it’s beneath him, he’ll kill you.”
You don’t want to risk anything, but lately that seems like your only option. He’s not getting any better, even though you so badly want to say that he is. Throwing up everything he eats is not much improvement than not eating at all. You just have to figure out what is considered an offering worthy for the deity to save him, and to save yourself.
“I’ll be back, I have to figure something out.” You say, smiling back at your aunt and your little brother. They barely acknowledge you before you leave the house, which you’re thankful for. You just need a moment to gather your thoughts, decide what you’ll do next.
You need to sort out your offering for the deity, an offering that will hopefully sort out all of your problems.
“My king, there’s a woman with an offering.” It feels like the hundredth time that week in which Sukuna hears that sentence. Humans are greedy beings, and they all fucking need something. It’s unnecessary, purely materialistic– It’s a side of humanity that he appreciates though. How much a human is willing to sacrifice for wealth or the promise of good fortune. Sukuna can’t judge, he's the sole winner in the end.
“Let her in.” He says, and the tatami door slides open. A poor maiden with a pale yellow kimono, and a woven basket in hand. You walk in with your head down, following the strict instructions that were given to you.
You’re trembling as you kneel down in front of the deity, bowing down to him. You remain bowing for however long he pleases, keeping your eyes shut because there’s tears building up. You have never been this terrified. Willingly putting yourself at death’s door is no easy feat.
“Rise.” He orders, and you straighten your upper body, remaining on your knees. You don’t dare look anywhere past his feet, keeping your eyes low and steady. You know that he’s staring you down, studying you. A smirk on his lips, thinking about how he’s found her. “What do you want?”
“My brother…” Your voice is shaky, and you try your best to compose yourself. You can’t start crying in the middle of it, you’ve gotten this far, he’ll surely kill you if you begin to sob at his feet. “He’s sick. The medic can’t cure him, and he told us you were our only choice.”
He’s not really listening. Something about a brother is all he grasped. He’s more into the way your lips move, and the tears of pure fear that well up in your eyes. He can tell that you really made an effort into your look today, even though you don’t look extravagant. Which for some reason he likes, he doesn’t want an arrogant woman in his chambers, he already has enough of them. He especially doesn’t want one of them carrying his heir.
What really draws him in is that certain look in your eyes. The clear innocence that’s written all over your face. You’re the perfect lily that he can’t wait to tear apart, petal by petal. That finalizes his decision.
“What do you have for me? Open the basket.” He orders, and you do as he says. Regret washes over you as you open it, immediately knowing that it’s not enough. You don’t know what came over you when you had the bright idea of picking it. You unfold the cloth with shaky hands, revealing the gift for him. He’s usually furious with these types of gifts, since they hold no value to him but he wants to hear your reasoning since he has other plans with you, “Why do you come to me with this?”
“Pomegranates aren’t native to the land, and they’re scarce this time of season. I found some while searching for an offering and thought it was a sign.” You explain, and he scoffs. A stupid reason, one that should get you killed. If he wanted fruit, he would send Uraume to get it for him. He guesses it’s creative though, especially when almost every person that walks through the temple is willing to sacrifice a life. But you don’t gain points for creativity, no one ever has.
“Pomegranates? What am I supposed to do with that?” He’s mocking you, and you swallow the lump in your throat. He’s right, what is he supposed to do with a pomegranate? He’s not like you, he’s not just going to eat it. You’re usually smart about this type of thing, but you guess desperation got the best of you this time around, and now you have to pay for the consequences. As to be expected, there’s no answer from you, and he orders, “Look up at me.”
Your eyes slowly move up his body to his face, and you’re in awe at the sight. A mix of emotions flow through your body. He really isn’t a human. You were terrified earlier, but now you’re simply astonished. You never really believed the tales that were told about him since you couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that a being like him could exist. But now he stands before you.
“Do you really think I’ll do anything with the fruit?” His voice sounds serious, but there’s a hint of a smile on his lips. You shake your head which irks him. “You have a voice don’t you? Use it.”
“No, my king. My apologies.” It’s strange, but you sound more confident as you look at him compared to before. It brings some sort of satisfaction to Sukuna since usually people that are allowed to look directly at him can barely communicate.
“I’ll give you a chance to redeem yourself.” He’s thinking about how merciful he is– Which isn’t entirely a lie since Sukuna never gives a second chance. Except you have no idea how you can redeem yourself unless he dismisses you. Little do you know what he’s thinking for you. “I have a proposal for you.”
“A what…?” Your eyebrows perk up as curiosity takes over you. A proposal from a deity, it’ll surely be something that you have yet to hear.
“Bear my child, and I’ll forgive you.” He says, and you almost fall back. Your ears must be deceiving you, there’s no way that the proposal that you just heard is real. Your eyes are wide open, and you hear him laugh. It must be a joke then.
“Uraume!” Sukuna yells, wanting it to be clear that he doesn’t want to waste a single second. Not even a second later, and they’re in the room, waiting for their king’s command. “Take the maiden and prepare her for me tonight.”
“Wait– You’re serious?” You dare to ask. You haven’t even agreed, yet he’s getting you ready for tonight, to have a baby with him of all things. “You don’t even know my name, why would you want me to carry your baby?”
“What’s your name then?” He asks, clearly irritated by the question, and you have no choice but to answer. If you don’t, you’re screwed. “There we have it. Take her, Uraume.”
“Wait!” You shout, but Sukuna isn’t going to listen to more of it. Uraume guides you outside, a task that they usually do harsher. At any other time, they’d be dragging you outside but you’re not just anybody.
You’re the woman that will carry King Sukuna’s heir.
#[bonds of fruition]#jujutsu kaisen sukuna#ryoumen sukuna#ryomen sukuna#sukuna x reader#sukuna#sukuna ryomen#jjk sukuna#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#sukuna jjk#sukuna x you#sukuna jujutsu kaisen
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The Golden Rose Of Rome
Emperor Geta x Reader
Chapter 1: Thorns
Chapter Summary: The Emperor is not used to being denied. He'll come to find even the most beautiful flowers carry thrones. Drawing his intrigue is dangerous and no prickle will stop him.
Wordcount: 4k.
A/N: Written inclusively, no race mentioned or implied.
Chapter Index: Chapter 1 / Chapter 2/ Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6
Masterlist
The air of the Imperial Palaces is buzzing with laughter and music. Expensive wine is flowing freely between Rome's Elite, a parade of wealth and charm where every guest is competing for attention in the glittering spectacle. From their golden dais, the twin emperors oversee the festivities, though each is engrossed in his own way.
Caracalla lounges lazily in his gilded seat, the lack of enthusiasm evident. He is barely paying attention, too focused on his beloved monkey that is sitting on the armrest. While taking long, careless sips of wine he occasionally fed Dundus with grapes.
Geta on the other hand is sitting upright but his face is mirroring the boredom of his brother, his dark eyes observing the crowd with mild interest.
These elaborate displays of power and wealth had quickly lost their appeal and soon became tiresome rituals of their rule. Necessary evils, as even Emperors have to maintain appearances.
Caracalla throws a grape in the air, watching Dundus catch it mid-air. His eyes momentarily move towards the crowd before returning back to his monkey. With a sigh, he breaks the silence, gesturing toward a group of dancers performing in the center of the hall. “Do you ever wonder why we bother with all this? I’d wager most of them don’t even remember why we are holding these festivities.”
Geta glances at his brother, with a hint of humor in his voice he asks, “Do you?” Caracalla narrows his eyes at the teasing but keeps silent, his attention back to the monkey.
“It’s necessary,” Geta continues, his eyes resuming to oversee the guests. “The spectacle reminds them of our power.”
“Power,” Caracalla echoes with a grimace. “If they were truly loyal, we wouldn’t need to remind them at all. Loyalty bought with wine and music isn’t loyalty. It’s theater.”
“Perhaps,” Geta shrugs his shoulders. “But the people thrive on theater. It keeps them entertained and compliant.”
Caracalla sighs, swirling his goblet, “We should have asked Macrinus to send some of his gladiators.”
Geta tilts his head, amusement coloring his features. “We can’t have people die at every festive occasion, brother.”
Caracalla’s grin turns wicked as he strokes Dundus’s fur, “Says who?”
That elicits a faint chuckle from his brother. Geta reaches for a new goblet of wine, with his lips curved into a half smile. “The night’s still young, Caracalla. Let’s see what this evening brings before you write it off entirely.”
As if on cue, the grand doors of the atrium swing open, catching both brothers’ attention. A new set of guests enters the hall. Another senator with his family, but something about them is different, their arrival causes a subtle shift in the room. Heads turn and hushed whispers travel through the crowd.
“More senators,” Caracalla releases a tired breath, his attention already elsewhere.
Geta is about to dismiss them as well but then the senator steps aside, revealing two young women trailing behind him. Geta straights in his chair lightly, his attention sharpening.
The elder of the two wears a pale bluish almost lavender colored dress that shimmers in the light of the chandeliers. Her hair is pinned up, exposing her neck and shoulders. An air of quiet confidence surrounds her as she walks, her head held high as she speaks with her father. The younger one, in a soft, rose-colored gown, clings to her sister’s arm. Her movements try to mimic the elder’s, though she lacks the sisters' confidence. They exchange a few words with their father before he drifts off with their brother, leaving the two to stand at the entrance.
Caracalla notices Geta’s interest and raises an eyebrow. “Something worth noting?” But Geta doesn’t reply right away. Caracalla follows his brother’s line of sight, observing the young women briefly before turning back to Dundus. “They’re pretty, I’ll give them that. But half the women here are pretty.”
“True,” Geta murmurs softly.
Caracalla has to smirk, to him they look like every other noble daughter. “Careful, Geta. You seem interested. Should I have them sent up?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Geta scoffs at his brother, before leaning back in his chair, his eyes moving over the crowd again.
Caracalla chuckles softly, tossing another grape to Dundus. “The night’s young, indeed.”
The air smells like flowers and honey. Your eyes dart between the crowd, as you take a deep breath, trying to steel your nerves. The practiced mask of composure quickly slips into place. With a pet of your sister's hand on your arm, you smile at her, “Shall we?”
Sabina nods, giving you a faint smile of her own. Her calm exterior is just an act and you know that. You can feel the unease radiating from her. The court is a beautiful prison, a place where every glance and every word carries meaning. Tonight, the eyes of friends and foes will be on you. A dance you’ve learned long ago but it's still new to your little sister.
With Sabina’s hand securely around your arm, you lead her through the hall, exchanging brief pleasantries with the various nobles and acquaintances you encounter. The conversations are fleeting and filled with hollow friendliness. Not wishing to spend the night with unhonest smiles alone, you two continue moving through the crowd.
When a servant approaches with trays of wine, you take two cups, handing one to Sabina with a quiet instruction. “Drink slowly. It keeps your hands occupied.”
Sabina accepts her cup, taking a quick sip. “It’s impressive how you do it.”
You cast her a small reassuring smile, petting her hand on your arm. “All practice, Sabi. Trust me, soon it’ll come as naturally to you as it does to me.”
She shakes her head softly, moving forward through the guests. “No, it’s not that. When you do it, it looks simple. Like you were born for this.”
With your eyes on the nobles around you, you say, “Thank you for the compliment, but I am born into this and so are you. Soon enough, you’ll handle it with ease. Just watch Marcus and me.”
Sabina nods silently, her steps quickening to match your pace as you lead her further into the hall. You come to stand before one of today's entertainments, beautiful exotic dancers. Their bodies move like water as they glide across the floor in a swirl of colors. As you two watch them, servants continue to offer delicacies, exotic fruits, pastries filled with honey, roasted meats sliced finely. You sample a bit of everything, savoring the fleeting pleasure of it.
As you take a small piece of a fruit you haven't heard from before, you nod subtly toward a woman standing near a pillar. "See Lady Amagus, the one in green? She’ll divorce her husband soon. He fathered a bastard with her youngest sister.”
Sabina’s eyes widen and she covers her mouth, momentarily forgetting to conceal her reaction. The shock fades quickly again. "By Jupiter... the humiliation."
You nod, your gaze following the woman. "I can’t imagine it. But she’s holding herself with outstanding grace despite it."
The two of you continue your way through the crowd, gossiping quietly as you walk. Eventually you stop near the archways leading to one of the many palace gardens. The fresh cool evening air is a welcome gift. You turn your back to the arches, enjoying the air brushing over your shoulders, your little sister quickly following suit.
Sabina leans in, her voice lowered as she speaks. “I’ve heard Julia Meranius will marry into House Heras. Not the son, but the father. Lady Heras just died and they’re already making wedding plans.”
You shake your head, your jaw tightening in disgust. "Tasteless. Makes you wonder if her illness was more than just a coincidence.” Sabina glares at you but you just shrug your shoulders. “Unfortunate, no less.”
The music changes and you allow yourself to breathe, savoring the cooling breeze that drifts through the heated hall. Unfortunately, the peace is short-lived, as from the corner of your eye, you catch Sabina’s gaze wandering, drifting upward to the side, to the golden dais.
The Emperors.
“Stop it.” You admonish her quietly, the calm mask on your face intact despite the warning in your tone. “It’s unwise to draw their notice.”
Sabina startles slightly, her eyes snapping back to the crowd immediately. “They look-” “Don’t.” You cut her off with a sharper edge, casting her a quick warning glare.
Your sister exhales softly, her lips pressing into a thin line as she lifts her cup, sipping in silence.
Shortly after your arrival, you’ve stolen a quick glance at them yourself, when moving through the crowd. You know what she was going to say.
That the twin emperors might as well be statues - cold, motionless, carved from arrogance itself. They can’t even bring themselves to feign interest in the spectacle before them.
You glance at Sabina, ensuring her focus remains elsewhere while your own thoughts betray you. War, death and bloodshed are known to be your ruler's true passions and it seems neither music nor wine can compare. True to their title, the mad twins. A name only uttered in the smallest of whispers in the darkest of Rome's corners.
With a slight shake of your head, you try to banish these traitorous thoughts. You’re not here to dwell on politics, that is reserved for your brother and father. You are here to enjoy the evening.
Sabinas' sudden firm grip on your arm quickly demands your attention. She leans closer to you. “Senator Domitianus just arrived.”
You take another slow sip of your wine, eyes flicking over to where the elderly senator stands. “Pay him no mind. He’s toothless. A few years left to live and even fewer alliances to call his own. In a few months, he’ll be nothing more than a whisper in the wind."
Sabina smiles faintly, her fingers tightening just slightly around your arm. It’s comforting in a way, this quiet understanding between you two. “Hold your head up high, Sabina. He will be soon forgotten, while we are still standing despite his efforts. We are proud and everyone shall see it.”
Up on the golden dais, the emperors still watch the growing crowd. Dundus is squeaking happily, performing tricks for his master, much to his delight.
Geta rolls his eyes, annoyed by the loud, little creature. Resting his head on his hand, he suppresses a sigh. This night really does feel endless, the music and chatter blending into a monotonous hum. His eyes wander over the dancers without much interest. He watches their performance for a moment, before a flicker of blue in his periphery catches his attention. At once his gaze shifts again, landing on the sisters he noticed earlier tonight.
The older sister stands out, not only in her appearance but in her demeanor. The woman in blue carries herself with effortless elegance, a composure that sets her apart from the peacocks who parade themselves before him and his brother. Unlike the other women in the hall, she seems unconcerned with drawing attention to herself, oozing quiet confidence as though she has nothing to prove.
“What do you think of them?” Geta asks, his voice low as he turns to his brother, though his gaze never leaves the sisters. “They seem out of place.”
Caracalla glances over at them, his face twisting into a smirk. “Which one caught your attention, the proud dove or the trembling chick?”
Geta’s lips twitch slightly but he didn’t look away. “The one in blue. There is something about her.”
“That so? And what would that be?” Caracalla asks, his eyes landing on the girls briefly again before looking back at the monkey. “She’s just some noble’s daughter, here to remind us that her family still exists. Probably hoping to secure a good match for herself or the skittish one by her side. And if you’re not careful, she’ll think you’re interested.”
As if sensing their eyes on her, the woman in blue turns her head slowly, her eyes sweeping the room until they nearly meet Geta’s. But before their gazes can lock, a familiar figure strides into the hall, stealing the emperor's attention.
“Fabius Verrinus.” Geta observes quietly, looking at his brother with a knowing grin. He straightens in lazy anticipation. “Finally, some entertainment.”
The brothers share a look of amusement. Senator Verrinus is infamous, known for his sharp mind and even sharper tongue. A man of the kind that thrives on attention and over the time the emperors have become eager spectators.
“Let’s see who he targets tonight,” Caracalla says, leaning forward with rekindled interest.
Verrinus exchanges a few words with a fellow senator when his gaze finds the two sisters. He pauses mid-sentence, his lips curving into a predatory smile. Geta's brows knit together, it seems the sisters haven’t only captured his interest.
The senator excuses himself, making his way towards the two women in purposeful strides. By the looks of it, the elder one notices him first, her posture tensing lightly in anticipation.
Verrinus' voice breaks though the music, loud enough to draw attention of the close by nobles. “Ah, the daughters of House Cassius! A vision, as always.”
The crowd parts slightly as he approaches the sisters. Fabius' voice is laced with honey but his smile fails to reach his eyes. “I must say it's quite surprising to see you in attendance tonight. I’ve heard your family is facing hard times. I heard your father struggles to keep his trading routes safe. Perhaps he should take notes from more capable men.”
His words are calculated, insults cloaked in feigned civility. The younger girl stiffens visibly, her wide eyes darting nervously between her sister and Fabius.
Caracalla chuckles quietly from his seat, leaning in to watch the exchange. “The little one looks like she’s about to cry.”
Geta ignores him, his eyes focused on the elder one. She is completely unmoved by Verrinus' words.
With a small step, she positions herself between the man and her sister, regarding the senator with a calm expression. “It is said that true nobility lies in enduring challenges with grace, my lord. Perhaps that is why my father commands respect, while others must resort to empty words to make themselves feel important.”
Geta arches an eyebrow, surprise evident in his face. Her boldness gains even more attention, subtle murmurs carry through the crowd of onlookers.
Verrinus' smile falters for a brief moment, his eyes narrowing at her. “Lady Y/N, surely you’ve heard about the rumors that your father-”
“Rumors,” she interrupts him, her tone smooth but direct. “Are like smoke, Senator. They may cloud the air for a time, but they vanish quickly when met with light. Only fools grasp at shadows in their search for relevance. It’s truly a blessing to know my family is above such things.”
The crowd’s whispers grow louder, encouraged by her eloquent retort. Verrinus opens his mouth to respond but before he can so much as utter a word, she silences him with a brilliant smile. “If you’ll excuse us, Senator. My sister and I would rather enjoy the tranquility of the garden than linger in such smoke.”
Without waiting for a response, she takes her sister’s arm and guides her through the archway to the garden, leaving Verrinus to stew in the bitter humiliation.
Caracalla bursts into laughter, clapping his hands once. “Oh, she’s good! Did you see his face? Like a fish gasping for air.”
Geta huffs a laugh, his gaze shifting briefly to his brother, then back to the archway where the sisters disappeared. Caracalla leans back, clapping his hands again. “That was entertaining. What did he say her name was?”
Geta gestures to a nearby squire. “The woman in blue, who is she?”
The squire bows deeply before answering. “That is Lady Y/N Cassius, Your Majesty. The oldest daughter of Senator Gaius Cassius. Their grandfather was a merchant who built the family’s fortune. Senator Cassius expanded their influence further before securing a seat in the Senate.”
“Merchants elevated to Patricians,” Caracalla sneers, his earlier respect dimming by the family's status. “Hardly remarkable.”
With his eyes lingeing on the archway to the gardens, Geta points out, “Remarkable enough to silence Verrinus,”
The squire explains further, “House Cassius faced challenges of late, but they are still highly respected by many.”
“Respected,” Geta repeats, deep in thought. “Yes, I see why.” He dismisses the squire with a wave of his hand. Leaning back slowly in his seat again, his expression turns unreadable.
He was no stranger to the name Cassius, the family isn’t unfamiliar but the woman herself is. Geta realizes now that he’s never truly encountered that woman before tonight. That in itself feels like a peculiar oversight on his part. How had he overlooked someone like her, surely he would have noticed her before tonight.
Caracalla's mind is already distracted again as he leans against the armrest, his little Dundus sitting on his shoulder. “You see that one over there?” He gestured idly toward a group of noblewomen, his voice dripping with indifference. “She’s been staring at me for the last hour. Desperate for attention, like the rest of them.”
Geta doesn't reply, his focus still drawn toward the garden. Verrinus' still standing off to the side, his face still flushed from embarrassment or rage, likely a combination of both. The man’s pride is clearly wounded and yet Geta feels no pity nor amusement. There is only a quiet, growing curiosity about the woman who had so effortlessly dismantled the most vicious man of the city.
“Are you even listening, brother?” Caracalla asks, tossing a grape towards him.
“Hm?” Geta responds absently.
Caracalla frowns at him, “Brooding about the girls, are you? Don’t waste your time.”
Geta’s expression remains impassive as he keeps silent, his mind still working. Their father is a senator and by the looks of it, his eldest daughter has more wit than half the Senate combined.
Eventually his eyes shortly move back to his brother before returning to the archways, “If her father’s political acumen matches her wit, House Cassius might prove useful.”
Caracalla laughs, loud enough to make a few nearby guests glance their way. “You always think in terms of politics, brother. Sometimes a woman is just a woman.”
“Sometimes, yes,” Geta agrees quietly. “But not this one.”
Caracalla laughs again, even louder this time. “And what of it? Haven’t you seen that little sister? That girl looked like a frightened fawn. I’ll take her, she seems easy to break. You can have the sharp-tongued one.”
Geta rolls his eyes, his tone dry. “How magnanimous of you.”
Caracalla only grins. “Her tongue will be the death of her. Verrinus won’t forget this. A shame, really. She’d make an entertaining court jester.”
“Or a useful ally,” Geta muses, swirling his wine thoughtfully.
“So? Are you going to sit there brooding all night, or are you going to follow her?” Caracalla teases lightly before tossing a grape into his mouth. “You look like a dog sniffing after a bone.”
“Unlike you, brother,” Geta finally tears his gaze away to meet Caracalla’s amused expression, “I don’t make a habit of chasing every pretty face. And I certainly don’t declare my intentions aloud in the presence of the entire court.”
Caracalla laughs, unbothered by the bait. “Oh, come now, Geta. Admit it - you’re intrigued. The noble merchant’s daughter, standing tall amidst the wolves. It’s practically a tale out of one of those tragic love poems you pretend not to enjoy.”
Geta ignores the jab about poetry, but his curiosity is undeniable. Caracalla's eyes met him again. “But don’t let it distract you from the reality of who we are.”
“And what’s that?” Geta asks, his annoyance clear in his tone.
“Gods,” Caracalla states simply, flashing a sharp grin. “And gods don’t chase mortal girls, no matter how clever they are.”
Geta drains his goblet, setting it down with a decisive clink. Rising from his seat, he adjusts the folds of his imperial robe.
“Oh, so you are going after her,” Caracalla drawls, leaning back with a smug grin. “Be careful, Geta. That rose seems to have thorns.”
Geta doesn’t spare his brother another glance, as he descends the dais. “I’d rather deal with thorns than another evening listening to you.”
The moon is rising behind the horizon, casting its brilliant silver glow across the sprawling opulent gardens of the imperial palace.
You dare to take a deep breath, trying to calm your rapidly beating heart. Verrinus is such a coward. Instead of searching the confrontation he so clearly wished for with your father he chose the assumed easier opponent.
A mistake, clearly. Your father was a good teacher and you an even better student. Still, the confrontation was nerve racking and unnecessary. The rivalry between your two families shouldn't be so open on display.
“That was impressive.” Your little sister beams at you, awe reflecting in her eyes. “He was stunned into silence.”
You two come to stand in front of a marble fountain. You lean against the cool stone lightly, before addressing your concerns. “Father will have a wonderful time in the Forum next time.”
Sabina looks at you with a small smile, petting your shoulder. “But what else could we have done? Ignore him? Surly Father will understand.”
Of course he will but that doesn’t make it any easier. Verrinus is a man who holds grudges. Father will not be thrilled. This will have consequences.
“On another note,” Sabina’s smile grows, “Did mother tell you about her recent encounter with Verrinus' ex-wife?”
Getas' feet take him slowly through the garden, following where the sisters had disappeared earlier. The feast is still lively, the music and laughter echoing in the distance but the Emperor doesn’t take notice. His eyes are set onto the two figures in the middle of the garden.
His pace slows down as he watches the sisters. The younger one is grinning brightly, gesturing wildly as she tells a story. The older one, Y/N as he has learned, listens attentively. The soft blue seems more lavender now, shimmering in the pale light. Her face, shining with a genuine smile, looks like a painting brought to life. Beautiful.
She seems to notice eyes on her, her head turning towards him. In an instant the smile is gone, replaced by the expression of careful composure he came to admire earlier tonight.
“Lady Y/N,” Geta greets, his voice smooth but edged with curiosity. “A word?”
You dip into a respectful curtsy, your heart taking on speed again. Sabina quickly follows suit, though her gaze carefully darts around, as though searching for potential onlookers.
“Your Majesty,” you greet him back, tone carefully measured despite the storm in your chest. “I hope you are enjoying your feast.”
���I was,” Geta lies, his expression unreadable. “But I couldn’t help but notice you earlier. Not many would dare speak to Verrinus in such a way. You have a sharp tongue, though you wield it well. It’s rare to see such grace under pressure.”
Your heart keeps pounding violently in your chest, fearing guests might taking note of this exchange. With a tight smile on your lips, you reply, “Your Majesty is too kind.”
Geta steps closer, his attention fully on the woman in front of him. “And now I find myself wondering why I have not seen you before tonight.”
“You have, Your Majesty,” you dare to correct him carefully, “I am a rare attendant to the court but we were introduced at the Colosseum some years ago, though I wouldn’t expect you to remember. There are many faces demanding your attention. It would be understandable if mine was forgotten.”
Geta’s brow arches, the response only deepening his curiosity. “I assure you, Lady Y/N, your face is not one I would forget.”
His tone is almost playful but there is a weight behind his words that makes you feel even more on edge. “I am honored by your kindness, Your Majesty, but it is likely true. After all, I am one of many.”
Sabinas' eyes move toward a group of men lingering near the garden entrance, Fabius Verrinus among them. She subtly touches your wrist, a silent warning.
Your expression hardened ever so slightly, as you caught the men in the corner of your eye as well. Quickly you return your focus back to the Emperor. “I am honored to have spoken to you, Augustus, but I don’t want to keep you from the feast for too long. Surely you have more pressing matters than to concern yourself with a mere daughter of House Cassius.”
Geta’s eyes narrow subtly. Why does he get the feeling she is trying to leave? At the realization, his voice hardens, “I decide what matters concern me, Lady Y/N. And at this moment, you do.”
Your sister shifts nervously and you place a reassuring hand on her arm. “I am flattered by your attention, but surely it is misplaced.” You attempt a soft laugh. “I doubt I am deserving of it.”
Getas' jaw clenches faintly, “I disagree. You’ve spoken of the arena, do you attend often?”
“Always.” You tell him, a genuine small smile cracking through your mask. “I have never missed a game since my father became senator. I find the games to be fascinating.”
“Fascinating?” The Emperor repeats, intrigued. “Most noblewomen I know prefer the banquets to the arena. Why do you favor the games?”
You hesitate, sensing the weight of his curiosity. “The arena is a place of stories, of triumphs and tragedies. It shows the strength and spirit of Rome and it reminds us of the cost of greatness.”
Slowly Sabina takes your arm, applying soft pressure. A few nobles decided to take a stroll in the garde as well, although they are out of earshot, their discreet glances don't escape the young Cassius.
Your back straightens instinctively. “The hour grows late and I fear we’ve already taken too much of your time, Augustus. With your permission, my sister and I will return to the palace to find our father.”
“You seem eager to leave.” Geta observes, his voice calm but with an edge of suspicion. He steps forward, blocking her path slowly, a silent challenge. He watches her for any crumb of reaction, anything that might shatter her controlled composure.
“Not at all, Your Majesty,” You sling your arm around your sisters, offering a casual smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “But my sister tires easily. It would be remiss of me not to see her safely back to our father.”
Sabina is about to open her mouth to speak, ready to elaborate on the excuse but you subtly squeeze her arm, silencing her before she can undo your carefully chosen words.
Geta’s jaw tightens as he considers the women, his piercing gaze flickering between the two. That little one didn’t look the least bit tired only a few moments ago. A very poor excuse, one Geta recognizes for what it is: a dismissal.
He is the emperor. He does not get dismissed.
Hot frustration blooms in Geta’s chest at her defiance. He considers insisting her to stay, forcing her to remain in his presence, but something about her makes him hesitate.
He has the power to make her yield, to bend her will with a single order. Yet, for now, he lets it go. With a controlled breath, he eventually steps aside, allowing them to pass. “Good night, Lady Cassius.”
The two sisters bow down again in unison, wishing him a good night as well, before walking towards the palace.
The moment you move past him, your grip on your sister’s arm tightens like a vice. With swift, elaborate steps, you steer her back towards the archways. She is about to look back over her shoulder but you tug her forward.
“Move,” you almost bark under your breath, the pressure of the night’s interactions finally catching up to you.
Sabina, despite it, leans in closer, her voice teasingly soft, “He’s handsome.”
With slightly hurried steps, you return to the Atrium, your grip is unrelenting, “I’ve noticed.”
Geta stands still, rooted in place with his mood souring as he watches the women leave. The bitter taste of rejection lingering on his tongue. All the women in the atrium would fall over themselves for his attention, desperate for any scrap of it, but not her.
She evadied him at every turn, so politely and as elegantly, it wasn’t just frustrating - this was fascinating. For a brief, aching moment, Geta is consumed by the thought. But then it shifts into something darker, something sharper. He knows he will see her again. And when he does, he’ll make sure she won't slip through his grasp again so easily.
#emperor geta x reader#geta x reader#emperor geta fanfic#emperor geta x female reader#gladiator 2#gladiator#gladiator ii#geta#caracalla#emperor caracalla#gladiador#fanfiction#fanfic#ao3#emperor geta#geta and caracalla#joseph quinn#gladiator ll#geta x you#geta gladiator#emperor caracalla fic#joseph quinn x you#gladiator fanfiction#emperor geta x you
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how to lose a girl in 10 days | ch.1 the bet

ryomen sukuna x fem!reader
ʚɞ ryomen sukuna is tall, devastatingly handsome, and the campus heartbreaker. everyone knows his name, and his reputation for leaving girls with broken hearts. but then there's you uninterested and completely unimpressed by him. you're the only girl who couldn't care less about him. when his friends tease him about it, everything changes. they challenge him with a bet to make you, the one person who isn't affected by his charm, fall in love with him in just 10 days, sukuna accepts the challenge, thinking it'll be an easy win. it's just a game, a way to prove he can get any girl he wants. but the more time he spends with you, he finds himself wanting something he never expected.
ʚɞ warning/tags: angst, fluff, romance, use of cigarettes and alcohol, jealousy, asshole sukuna, heartbreak, inspired by how to lose a guy in 10 days, college au, enemies to lovers.
ʚɞ now playing - no. 1 party anthem by arctic monkeys
note: hi guys! this is the first chapter and I'm so excited this is just about how the bet starts nothing crazyyyy YET… i can’t wait to write more! merry christmas!! <3
masterlist
“I still don’t know why I let you talk me into this,” you muttered, pulling your jacket tighter around yourself. The muffled thump of bass from inside the house was enough to make your ears ring, even from a distance. The faint smell of cigarette smoke and cheap beer mixed with the crisp winter breeze, making you wrinkle your nose.
“Because,” Shoko said, throwing an arm around your shoulder. “Deep down, you know you’ll have fun if you let yourself.” she grinned at you.
You side-eye her, “Have fun?, this is a party of drunk idiots I have to pretend I like.”
“Don't be dramatic.” Shoko rolled her eyes, patting your shoulder as she let you go. ”You spend too much time brooding alone in your dorm, anyway.”
“I call it peace,” you shot back, but Shoko was already halfway up the stairs.
The door swung open before either of you could reach it. A group of boys tumbled out, laughing and shouting, nearly knocking you over in the process. You stepped aside just in time, muttering a curse under your breath
The heat of the crowded house hit you immediately. The air was thick, almost suffocating, with the smell of sweat, spilled drinks, and overly sweet perfume. Bodies pressed together as people danced to the relentless beat of the music.
“Come on, let's get a drink,” she said, grabbing your wrist and leading you towards the kitchen. You stuck close to her, pushing past people in the crowd and avoiding eye contact as much as possible.
“This is a disaster,” you muttered as you reached the kitchen, leaning against the counter. Shoko handed you a bottle of water before pouring herself something that smelled suspiciously strong.
“It's just a party,” she replied.
As she took a sip, she leaned against the counter, her eyes scanning the room again. “There he is,” she said, nudging you with her elbow.
“Who?”
“You know who.”
Your gaze followed hers, landing on a familiar figure sprawled out on the couch in the corner of the living room. Ryomen Sukuna.
He was sitting on the couch like he owned the place, his long legs stretched out, one arm casually draped over the back of the sofa. He was wearing a white shirt, the fabric clinging just enough to hint at the toned muscles underneath. His eyes scanned the room with practiced boredom, like none of it was worth his time.
A girl was sitting on his lap, twirling her hair around her finger and giggling as if he’d just told her the funniest joke in the world. She leaned closer, whispering something in his ear, but he didn’t seem to be paying attention. Instead, his gaze drifted and then locked onto yours.
He grinned, a slow, cocky smirk that made something in your chest tighten not with attraction, but with irritation. It was the kind of grin that said he knew exactly the effect he had on people and loved to watch them crumble under it. He tilted his head slightly, as if to say, Caught you staring
As you looked away, you could feel the weight of his gaze on you. But you didn’t turn back. You weren’t interested.
“Great,” you muttered, taking a long sip from your water bottle. “Now I have to burn this memory from my brain.”
Shoko laughed, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “Oh, come on. You’ve got to admit, he’s hot.”
“He’s insufferable.”
“Hot and insufferable. The best combination.”
“I’ll leave right now.” you turned heel, but Shoko grabbed your arm, stopping you from your track.
“Relax, I’m just teasing you.”
Your jaw tightened, but you stayed put, watching as Sukuna leaned back even further, his eyes still fixed on you. The girl on his lap pouted, clearly annoyed at his lack of attention, but he didn’t seem to care.
“I hate him,” you muttered under your breath. The words came out bitter, but they were true. “Did I mention that before?”
“Yeah, like hundreds of times,” She replied, laughing “You really hate him, huh?”
“I just don’t get how people fall for his act,” you said.
Shoko shrugged. “Like I said, he’s hot. People like hot.”
“Hot doesn’t excuse being an asshole,” you murmured, crossing your arms. “What’s his deal, anyway? Does he just sit there all night waiting for people to grovel at his feet?”
“Pretty much,” Shoko said with a shrug. “But he’s good at it. Watch.”
As if on cue, another girl approached him, drink in hand. She leaned down, her lips close to his ear as she said something you couldn’t hear. Sukuna smirked, his attention finally shifting away from you, and you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.
“See? he’s harmless,” Shoko said.
“Harmless,” you repeated, your voice with sarcasm. “Sure.”
“You know, you’re the only one who doesn’t fall for his charm.”
“Good,” you said firmly, crossing your arms. “I’m not about to start. I don’t need someone like him in my life.”
“You gonna keep her there all night?” Suguru asked, nodding towards the girl on Sukuna’s lap.
Sukuna smirked tilting his head back. “why not? She's comfortable here.” the girl giggled again, clearly tipsy, but Sukuna's attention has already wandered. His eyes scanned the room lazily, taking in the usual suspect, drunk athletes, and the occasional out-of-place loner. Until it landed on you.
You stood in the kitchen, keeping your distance from the chaos, leaning against the counter with your arms crossed. Your eyes roamed over the room, observing, until they met his. He caught you looking, and a smirk tugged at his lips. When you quickly looked away, he let out a low chuckle.
His friends noticed this.
“You’ve been staring at her for the last ten minutes, what’s the deal?” Geto voice cut thought Sukuna’s thoughts, and he glanced over at his friend.
“I’m not staring,” Sukuna retorted smoothly, his tone laced with nonchalance as he effortlessly lifted the girl off his lap. She let out an irritated groan, before stalking off in a huff. “Just observing,”
“Oh, don’t give me that,” Geto teased, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve seen the way you're staring at her, that’s not the ‘I’m observing’ look you usually give what’s going on with you.”
Sukuna’s gaze flickered to you once more. “She’s different,” He had noticed you around campus—the way you never spared him a second glance when you passed by, completely unaffected by his presence. Once, he’d even tried to strike up a conversation, but you had brushed past him without so much as acknowledging him, as though he were invisible.
Gojo chuckled “Different? Dude, that girl is the only one who doesn’t drool over you.”
Sukuna’s lip curled into a sly grin. “So what?”
“So,” Suguru continues, crossing his arms, leaning against the couch. “you’ve never met a girl who doesn’t fall for your charm, right? You’ve been with everyone but her? she couldn’t care less.”
Gojo snorted. “And she’s probably the only one on campus. That’s gotta sting.”
Sukuna scoffed, leaning forward slightly. “Please. She is probably playing hard to get.”
Geto exchanged a glance with Gojo, and then a mischievous grunt flashed his eyes. “All alright, how about we make this interesting? We give you ten days.”
Sukuna raised an eyebrow, “Ten days?’
“Yeah,” he said with a sly smile “Ten days you make her fall in love with you.”
Sukana let out a short laugh, but the challenge already sounded fun to him. He never was the type to back down from a game. “You think I need ten days?”
Suguru shrugged, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. “It’d be easier if it were any other girl. But this one… she’s too—what’s the word? Stubborn. Definitely not into guys like you,” he said, “She won’t be an easy win. That’s what makes it interesting, though.”
Satoru chimes in “Yeah, man. You can’t just use your looks and charm this time. You’re gonna have to actually work for it.”
Sukana's eyes flicked back to you for a split second. You were standing there unaware of the conversation that was happening a few feet away from you. “Ten days huh?” he murmured.
“Ten days” Gojo repeated. “And if you fail you lose. It's as simple as that.”
His expression turned darker, the idea of him not winning seemed unthinkable. He wasn’t just going to prove them wrong he was going to show them that no one could resist him.
Gojo leaned back, a grin tugging at his lips. “Oh, and one more thing,” he added, glancing at Sukuna. “You can't be seen with other girls. It’s gotta look real, after all.”
Sukuna’s expression shifted slightly, an eyebrow raised in silent challenge. “You think I need rules to make this work?” he asked.
Geto gave a small nod. “It’s just to make sure no one gets suspicious. You’ll need to actually put in the effort.”
Sukuna smirked, unfazed. “Fine. I’ll play by your rules, but don’t expect me to go easy on her.”
Ten days to make you fall for him. The girl who wouldn’t give him the time of the day. The girl who didn’t care about his reputation. The girl who has no idea what was coming for her.
Unknowingly, you had already been pulled into his game.
“You think his shirt could be any tighter,” Shoko muttered, nodding towards a guy who was flexing across the room.
You snorted. “Pretty sure it's painted on.” leaning against the kitchen counter. Shoko grinned at your words, sipping from her cup.
The kitchen was quieter than the rest of the party, you leaned against the counter sipping on your water. Shoko perched on the edge of the sink, swinging her legs as she talked. You were nodding and listening to the story she was telling you. You hear a group of people walking in the kitchen, their laughter loud and careless. You don’t even need to turn around to know who it is. The weight of his presence pressed into the room like a rebound heartbeat. Ryomen Sukuna.
His graze swept the kitchen, it lingered on you for a moment too long, and a smirk appeared on his face.
“Shoko,” one of his friends called out, his tone playful, but almost teasing. “Come help us with something. It’ll be fun, I promise.”
Shoko raised an eyebrow, glancing between you and them. “Fun, huh? i doubt it.”
“It’s better than being stuck in here,” another white-haired friend chimed in.
She rolled her eyes but slid off the counter anyway, giving you a quick pat on the shoulder. “Don’t get too comfortable,” she said with a wink before following them out of the kitchen. And then, it was just you and him.
Great.
Sukuna didn't say anything, but you could feel the weight of his gaze, as he leaned against the counter across from you.
“Guess it’s just us now,” he said finally his voice low and smooth.
You didn't look up, keeping your focus on your drink “Lucky me,” you replied, your tone dry.
He chuckled softly, the sound rich and deep. “You don’t sound too thrilled.”
When you finally glanced up, he was much closer than you’d expected. His tall frame leaned casually against the counter opposite you. Up close, the details of his features were almost overwhelming—the sharp line of his jaw, the subtle curve of his lips that formed an infuriatingly smug smirk, and the mess of his hair falling carelessly over his forehead. You couldn’t deny it, no matter how much you wanted to. He was hot—like, really hot.
“You’re not exactly the first guy to try this,” you said coolly, taking another sip from your drink, your gaze steady as you met his.
Sukuna tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing in amusement. “Try what?” he asked.
“Whatever you’re doing right now,” you replied, “the whole brooding, mysterious thing. It’s not as original as you think.”
He laughed at that, his head tilting back just enough to expose the line of his throat. It wasn’t often that people spoke to him like this, you realized. Most would have thrown themselves at him.
“You’re sharp,” he said, pushing off the counter and taking a step closer. The scent of him hits you. “I like that,” he added, his voice low, a hint of approval in his tone as his gaze lingered on you.
You arched an eyebrow, unimpressed by him. “And I don’t care.”
He paused not being he was offended, but because he wasn’t used to being dismissed, even by someone who didn't so much flinch under his gaze.
He took another step forward, closing the distance between you. “Most people would kill to be in your position right now,” his tone quieter now, almost intimate, as his eyes locked onto yours.
You smirked, setting your drink on the counter behind you. “Then maybe you should go find ‘most people,’” you replied coolly, not breaking eye contact.”
The silence hung in the air. Sukuna’s eyes lingered on you for a moment, then slowly, his gaze dipped to your lips. The smirk on his face faltered just slightly as if he was plotting something in his mind, before it returned—sharper, more amused.
“You’re different,” he murmured finally, his voice low, the words lingering in the air as his gaze stayed fixed on your lips, the tension between you growing with each passing second.
“Should I take that as a compliment?” you asked.
“Take it however you want,” he said, his voice softer now, almost a whisper, his gaze still lingering on your lips as if he was waiting for your next move.
His gaze made it hard to look away. But you forced yourself to break the connection, turning your focus elsewhere. You weren’t sure what Sukuna was trying to do—charm you, challenge you, or maybe a little of both.
“I’m not interested in you, if that’s what you’re wondering,” you said, your tone firm, making sure he knew you weren’t fazed by his presence.
He tilted his head, his smirk fading for a moment. He just looked at you, his dark eyes searching yours as if he were trying to read you.
“We’ll see about that,” he said, his voice low and confident, before turning and walking out.
You let out a slow breath, the heat of his presence lingering in the air. Sukuna wasn’t used to being ignored, and for him, that only made you more of a challenge.
But you weren’t here to play his game.
At least, that’s what you thought.
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How will your future spouse make you feel about yourself?



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🌷Image 1

Your future partner will envelop you in a warm embrace of respect, affection, and admiration, creating a safe haven where you can truly be yourself. They will celebrate your uniqueness and make you feel cherished in every moment, reminding you that you are deserving of love in all its forms. In their presence, your inner child will come alive, feeling liberated and joyful, as if the weight of the world has been lifted off your shoulders.
They will take the time to understand your emotional needs, offering support and encouragement that nurtures your spirit. With their unwavering belief in you, they will help you realize that your dreams of a fairy tale ending are not just fantasies, but beautiful possibilities waiting to unfold. Together, you will create a love story filled with laughter, adventure, and deep connection, where every day feels like a new chapter in a book you never want to end.
Their kindness and thoughtfulness will be a constant reminder that you are valued and appreciated, and they will inspire you to reach for the stars, knowing that you have someone by your side who believes in you wholeheartedly. How sweet it will be to share a life filled with love, joy, and endless possibilities! 🥺🩷
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You and your future partner will share a profound and transformative connection, one that transcends the ordinary and resonates on a soul-deep level. It will feel as though you have known each other for lifetimes, as if you both belong to the same soul family, intricately woven together by shared experiences, values, and dreams. This bond will be a sanctuary, a safe haven where both of you can be your authentic selves without fear of judgment.
Their embrace will envelop you in a cocoon of warmth and comfort, creating a sense of belonging that is unparalleled in your life. In their arms, you will find solace and security, a refuge from the chaos of the outside world. It will be a place where you can let down your guard, allowing vulnerability to flourish and trust to deepen. This connection will be a source of strength, reminding you that you are never alone in your journey.
Being with them will invigorate your spirit, breathing new life into your days and igniting a passion for existence that dispels any lingering feelings of boredom or despair. Their laughter will be a melody that lifts your heart, and their presence will be a spark that ignites your creativity and enthusiasm for life. Together, you will embark on adventures that fill your days with joy and excitement, exploring new horizons and discovering the beauty in the mundane.
As you navigate life side by side, you will cultivate a vibrant bond that inspires you to embrace your true self. This relationship will encourage you to shed any masks you may have worn, allowing your genuine essence to shine through. You will feel empowered to pursue your dreams and aspirations, knowing that you have a partner who believes in you wholeheartedly. Their unwavering support will foster a strong belief in your own potential, encouraging you to reach for the stars and chase after your passions with renewed vigor.
Together, you will create a tapestry of shared experiences, filled with laughter, love, and growth. You will celebrate each other's victories and provide comfort during challenges, forging a partnership that is resilient and nurturing. This connection will not only enhance your individual lives but will also create a beautiful synergy that propels both of you toward your highest selves. In this union, you will find not just a partner, but a true companion on the journey of life, one who enriches your existence and inspires you to be the best version of yourself.
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You might be an incredibly intuitive individual, perhaps even spiritual, psychic, or a medium, and you have a deep understanding of your own worth and values. Your self-love is already profound, rooted in a strong sense of identity and self-awareness. You are fully aware of how you feel about yourself, and no one can elevate your emotions to extraordinary heights because you recognize your own brilliance. This self-awareness acts as a shield, protecting you from the superficial validations that others might seek to offer. Your confidence radiates, and it’s this very energy that will attract your future partner.
As you embark on this journey of love, your future partner will undoubtedly pick up on this unique essence that you exude. They will be drawn to your authenticity and the way you carry yourself with grace and self-assuredness. What will they do? I sense that their romantic gestures will leave you breathless, as they possess a deeply romantic nature that resonates with your soul. They will surprise you with thoughtful acts of kindness, spontaneous adventures, and heartfelt expressions of affection that will make your heart flutter.
This partner will encourage you to explore your romantic side, gently nudging you to embrace the softer, more vulnerable aspects of love that you may not have fully appreciated in past relationships. They will create a safe space for you to express your desires and dreams, allowing you to open up in ways you never thought possible. No one before has truly shown you what love and romance can feel like, but with them, you will discover a new depth of connection that transcends the ordinary.
They will demonstrate that they are your perfect match, your one true love, by understanding your needs and desires on a profound level. Their ability to listen and respond to your emotional cues will make you feel seen and cherished. Together, you will embark on a journey filled with laughter, passion, and mutual respect, where both of you can grow and evolve as individuals and as a couple.
In this relationship, you will find a partner who not only appreciates your brilliance but also inspires you to shine even brighter. They will celebrate your achievements, support your dreams, and stand by you through life’s challenges. With them, love will feel like a beautiful dance, where both of you move in harmony, creating a rhythm that is uniquely yours. 🥰
#tarot#tarot reading#tarotblr#tarotcommunity#intuitive guidance#intuitive messages#intuitive readings#pac reading#love reading#pick a card reading#divination#spirituality#future spouse#future spouse reading#future spouse pac#future spouse pick a card
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「Yandere CRK x Baker Reader | Chapter 1」

Note: It was really hard to write that part without reminding me that I tried to do that in real life. I'm not really good with words but if you ever feel like you're worthless or wanting to do something like this then please don't do it, your loved ones will always love you no matter what even if they're not perfect or anything, and they'll be sad if you're gone, so what I'm trying to say is that you're not alone and you're special in your own way even if you don't think that you are. Sorry if I sound so cheesy when I said this.
Warning/Tags: yandere tendencies, platonic/romantic, suicidal thoughts, attempted suicide, low self-esteem, self-loathing, depression, horror, hurt/comfort, isekai, etc.
「Previous | Next」
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~
[Narrator POV]
You have a normal life, a normal job, and a normal apartment, and you are fine with it. You also got in touch with your parents since they are worried about you, and they often text or call you to make sure that you are alright. You find it annoying, but you don't blame them for their behavior; it was entirely your fault for making them this way rather than they were before.
Everything is fine in your life, and yet why aren't you happy?
You sigh and open the door of your apartment after a long day at work, doing your usual routine before night falls. You head to your room to change into your pajamas before plopping down on the bed. You pull out your phone and see a lot of text messages from your mom asking if you're eating well and doing okay. You sigh and reply to her message as usual before closing the app and searching on youtube to watch something to distract yourself from that empty feeling again.
You watch some cat videos and gaming videos about your favorite youtubers just to put a smile on your face, even if it's only for a little while. Just then, a single video catches your eye. It's about a new update for your once-beloved game cookie run: kingdom, and it features new playable characters known as the beast cookies. They look so interesting and are apparently the parallel of the ancient cookies. It also introduces a new story called Beast-Yeast, as well as beascuits, topping tarts, new toppings, other new playable characters, etc.
The video reminds you of the first time you were introduced to that game. You were looking for a new game to play out of boredom until you stumbled upon a game called cookie run: kingdom on play store. You found the game interesting, so you downloaded it and played it for the first time, and that's how you grew attached to the game and the cookies you had collected.
Whenever you got home from school or finished doing your chores, you always played that game to your heart's content, making your cookies stronger, completing quests, granting wishes for them in the tree of wishes, trading, building cookie houses for them, and other things, and even decorating your Cookie Kingdom to make it more lively for them because they deserve a nice home to live in.
You remembered how they loved what you did for them and their new home, even singing praises to you and calling you their beloved Baker as if you were a deity to them. You thought it was weird for them to say that, but thought that maybe the developers added some fourth-wall-breaking dialogue, like most games do. So you shrugged and smiled, happy to see they're enjoying themselves in your Cookie Kingdom. It felt really good to be worshipped by them.
It sounded weird, but you used to talk to them as if they were real people. Whenever you felt down or that life was hard to deal with, you would talk to them about your struggles, your fears, your frustrations, and your hatred toward one of your classmates, teachers, and even your parents. Sometimes, you wished that they were gone for hurting you. You ended up crying in silence while tapping them to say something to make it look like they were comforting you, and that made you happy, even for a little while.
But as time passed and life became even more difficult for you to enjoy the game, you eventually stopped playing it to focus on your life instead. It was hard for you to not play and interact with your cookies anymore, but you had problems in your life to deal with, and so you left cookie run: kingdom on your phone, untouched, for years.
You tried your best; you really did. School was hard, but you tried to study harder without help so you wouldn't feel like a burden to everyone. You made some friends who were nice to you, though they probably felt bad for you since you spent time alone because you didn't know how to socialize with others very well. Your relationships with your parents weren't the best. You tried to make them happy and proud of you, but sometimes it didn't work out the way you wanted it to.
You tried to be good; you didn't mean to make your parents mad by making a mistake or doing something bad. It felt like your world slowly crumbled each time you reminded yourself that you're not good enough for them. Then, one day, you tried to do something to yourself that you still regret to this day.
You didn't know why you tried to do it; maybe you believed that once you were gone, you wouldn't have to feel depressed anymore and that you wouldn't have to carry the burden of being born if you just closed your eyes and never woke up again. So, when your parents were asleep, you tried to end your own life, but it didn't happen; you're still alive. Maybe you didn't cut your skin hard enough, or maybe the knife wasn't sharp enough to make you fall asleep, but regardless, you're still alive. You ended up crying and told your parents what you were doing last night. They were obviously horrified by what you had planned to do. Eventually, they cried with you and hugged you tightly.
You felt so guilty and ashamed back then, blaming yourself for making them worried because of your stupid actions that you were trying to do to yourself. Luckily, you only had deep bruises on your body, so your parents put medicine on them to hopefully help them heal better. Your parents took you to see a psychologist to help you with your mental health issues, but they just wanted you to be cured because you overheard them talking with the psychologist in the other room while you were sitting outside, and that made you feel like it was your fault for being different in the first place.
You knew that your parents were trying to help and knew what was best for you, but you just wished that they would try to understand what you were feeling instead of trying to find a cure for your 'mental problems'. However, you knew that even if they did, they would probably do it the same way: trying to make you normal. Sometimes, you hated them, but you also loved them and felt happy that they still cared about you, even though you felt hurt by them.
After that incident, your parents always helped you whenever you were troubled about something in your life. You were glad that they wanted to help you, but it felt so annoying that they now saw you as a helpless kitten with no idea what to do in life. You felt so pissed off about it; you knew how to take care of yourself, yet they still persisted in helping you like a dumb, clueless child despite you tried to deny their help. It also made you feel even more guilty now that they would burden themselves by helping you instead of you helping them and yourself.
And the worst part was that your parents were right: you didn't know what to do with your life after graduating from college. You had no clue where to go next or what your career would be. You knew how to draw, but you weren't quite sure if there were any jobs that could hire you for your talent. Therefore, you decided to go with part-time jobs instead.
You eventually found a job and a decent apartment to move into, but your parents didn't want you to go. After hours of convincing them that you'd be fine on your own and that they didn't have to worry about you, your parents eventually let you go, but not without you promising them that you would not forget to call or text them often to let them know that you're okay as you move out of their house and into your new home.
For a while, you felt happy with your life; you didn't feel worried anymore, and you were free to do whatever you liked now that you lived alone. Even if life wasn't always perfect, you managed to get through the day without any problems.
But then you suddenly felt empty, as if you didn't feel the joy of life anymore. You didn't know why you were feeling this way; you thought you were doing better. You did what your parents and the psychologist wanted you to do to make you feel better. Maybe it's because of the bad day you had when your boss yelled at you for running late at work, or because one of the customers was rude to you and even spilled coffee on your uniform for doing something wrong. But whatever the case, that empty feeling only reminded you that you're still a worthless human being, even if you tried to be better.
You tried not to think about ending your life again and instead focused on positive things because you didn't want to go through that again, just to make your parents worry about you even more. You hated yourself for not getting used to it, feeling that you should stop being a selfish moron for wanting something more in your mundane life.
Y/n: 'Why can't you be normal like everyone else, you worthless piece of shit!?'
You shook your head and exited youtube after finishing watching the video. Maybe playing cookie run: kingdom again isn't such a bad idea, even if it's for nostalgic reasons. With a smile and a little bit of excitement, you update the game and start playing it, expecting to see the familiar devsisters intro at the beginning.
But it didn't happen; instead, there is only Pure Vanilla Cookie standing in front of a black screen, looking straight at you with a somber expression. Then he first spoke up to you, but no speech bubble appeared on the screen, nor was there a lack of sound to convey his speech, which sometimes happens if the voice actors didn't have time to voice act the characters. No, he really is speaking to you.
Pure Vanilla Cookie: "Baker... you finally returned."
Y/n: "W... What?"
This didn't happen before; is that what happens if you don't play the game for too long?
Pure Vanilla Cookie: "We thought that we would never see you again, but you finally came back to us!"
He smiled.
Pure Vanilla Cookie: "I'm not mad that you left; you have your own reasons for leaving us, but I think it's best that you live here with us so you won't have to face something that is troubling you anymore!"
Y/n: "Wait, what?!"
Before you have time to react, you see a flash of light, and your world fades to black.
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~
You hear muffled voices in the background, and slowly they become clearer to understand; they all sound so familiar.
???: "A-Are they really the Baker?"
???: "Of course they are, dimwit! Why do you think Pure Vanilla Cookie brought them here if they're not the Baker?"
???: "What are they? They kinda look like a witch."
???: "I don't think they really are."
???: "Baker, are you still here with us?"
You groan and sit up, feeling a slight headache, so you rub your temples to ease the discomfort you are experiencing.
Y/n: "Wh... Huh?"
You slowly open your eyes but quickly widen them in shock. Standing before you is a group of monsters from folklore that you used to be obsessed with as a child. Although some of them look like hybrids of two or more creatures, you have a hard time figuring out what they're based on. But most importantly, why do they look so familiar?
Y/n: "W-Who the hell are you guys?"
You stare at them nervously as you crawl backward away from them. You don't know why, but the way they stare at you like predators staring at their prey leaves you feeling confused, wary, and full of dread. Are they going to eat you? They don't look like they're hungry, though maybe some of them are, and your fear starts to grow as the child in front of you takes a step forward with a look of... worry?
GingerBrave: "Don't you recognize us, Baker? It's me, GingerBrave, and these are my friends: Strawberry Cookie, Wizard Cookie, Custard Cookie, Ch-"
Custard Cookie III: "It's Custard Cookie the Third, GingerBrave!"
The little prince said with a pout as he crossed his arms while holding his scepter, his sheep ears lowered to reflect his true emotions. You find it oddly adorable.
GingerBrave: "Right, of course! Haha, sorry, it's actually Custard Cookie the Third, and this is Chili Pepper Cookie!"
Once he finished, everything clicked, so that's why they all look so familiar! But if that's true, then this world you are in must be earthbread! But the question is, why don't they look like the cookies you used to know and love?
Y/n: "You guys? Really? But you don't look like the cookies that I remember!"
You get up from the grassy floor and look at everyone in surprise and confusion. They all look at you weirdly and mutter to each other about what you just called them.
Strawberry Cookie: "W-What do you mean, Baker?"
Wizard Cookie: "I don't really get what you're saying, Baker."
Custard Cookie III: "We're cookies in your eyes? I'm so confused."
Chili Pepper Cookie: "Cookies? What are you talking about?"
GingerBrave: "Baker, we have always looked like this before you came into our lives!"
Y/n: "What? But you all were..."
You stop your sentence when you hear a familiar voice.
Pure Vanilla Cookie: "Alright, everyone, let's give them some space since they are still in shock that I brought them here to their kingdom."
Y/n: "My kingdom...?"
You turn to the voice, expecting to meet Pure Vanilla Cookie, but you are met with a tall, bipedal sheep creature that somewhat resembles Custard Cookie III, except he has four ram horns that curl up and down and four eyes, although they are closed due to the noticeable claw scars on his face.
Y/n: "Oh my god, what the hell happened to your eyes!?"
He smiled at your concerned words and shook his head.
Pure Vanilla Cookie: "You don't have to worry about me, dear; it's already healed a long time ago."
You want to know what happened to him and who gave him these scars, but then you remember what he said earlier. You look around the place and notice a familiar castle in the distance.
Y/n: "Am I in a Cookie Kingdom?"
Just then, Gumball Cookie spoke up to answer your question.
Gumball Cookie: "Why, yeah, of course! You did so amazingly to decorate our home like this; it's a masterpiece!"
You blush, feeling flattered by his compliment.
Y/n: "Oh, um, I'm glad you all like it."
Cherry Blossom Cookie: "Like it? We love it! You did so much for us, and we're all grateful that you gave us a place to call home!"
Everyone agreed with her until Cream Puff Cookie came forward with a gloomy expression on her face.
Cream Puff Cookie: "But then you left without warning, and everyone went mad or was heartbroken when you were gone. Did we do something wrong to make you leave, Baker?"
You are surprised by her words. Just then, everyone starts begging you not to leave them again; some of them are ready to cry at the thought of you disappearing from their lives once more.
Pancake Cookie: "Please don't go!"
Cherry Cookie: "We want you here!"
Pumpkin Pie Cookie: "Please stay with us, Baker; Pompon and I don't want to feel sad anymore."
Suddenly, Snapdragon Cookie comes flying towards you and tackles you to the ground, hugging you tightly as they let out frantic baby noises, as if to say that they don't want you to go away. You look down at the baby dragon; they look so real to you. Even when you touch their scales gently, they are no longer made of dough and other ingredients, which makes you wonder how and why they turned out the way they are.
You look up at everyone for a moment. They are all worried about you leaving them behind again, simply because they love and care about you. They want you to stay with them instead of going back to your reality. You always thought that they never had real emotions since they are characters from a game, but you were wrong; they do have emotions, and those are anger, fear, worry, and sadness in their eyes.
You're left speechless; no one really cares about you besides your parents like this before. You always thought that no one would love a worthless trash like you. You are just a nobody who is forgotten by everyone because you're not memorable enough to stay in their minds, and you don't remember them either. But these people never forget about you, even after all these years, and they still love you no matter what.
Y/n: 'They love me this much...?'
All these feelings of worry and dread about being here in this world with them suddenly wash away from you; all you really feel now is sadness and guilt, and you can't help but burst into tears. Everyone is shocked when you cry as you hug the baby dragon back.
Y/n: "It's not all your fault; it's mine. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for leaving you all behind!"
As you said this with tears in your eyes, all of the children started hugging you and crying with you. Most of the adults joined in, while the others stayed behind with somber expressions on their faces. Pure Vanilla Cookie stared down at you in deep sadness. You were unhappy with where you came from, but you don't have to worry about that anymore because he will make sure that you never have to go through that ever again.
[To Be Continued]

#cookie run: kingdom#crk#crk self aware#horror#yandere#fluff#crk x reader#yandere crk x reader#sweet little baker au
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OPERATION: FUCK SIM JAEYUN.

CHAPTER 1
—✧ summary: as a student, you were a huge academic overachiever, always wanting to excel in class and get the highest grades. as a teenage girl, you wanted to get some hardcore action. academics were stressful, and you needed an outlet for that stress. besides, it’s your second to the last year in high school. what could possible go wrong if you deviated and have a little fun? you’ve had your eyes on one guy for a while now, sim jaeyun. the handsome guy, the star soccer player, good at physics. now, you had another goal aside from finishing the school year as the top student: fuck sim jaeyun. one day, you get partnered together for a project, and one thing led to another, you end up in his bed. this might just turn your life for the better… or the worst.
—✧ pairing: jake sim x fem! reader
—✧ genre: highschool! au, fluff, pining (mutual? you’ll see), friends with benefits, casual relationship, smut (in later parts)
—✧ word count: 4.4k
—✧ taglist: @youreverydayzebra @witheeseung @w3bqrl , @freakywonbin, @enhafika, @enhacolor, @woniebuns, @cyberstephzz, @sumzysworld, @woniefull, @aanniikkaa, @faithnsstuff, @wonnienyang, @wonlluvie, @slut4hee, @hwaluvrsblog, @jakeswifez, @dreamiestay, @jiryunie, @nikibleist, @friurt, @jungwonsstrawberriesnchocolate, @jakesimfromstatefarm, @my10monthslovesimjae, @heefever, @milanco, @khaisdrz . send an ask if you want to be added!
══════*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*══════
the clock seemed to tick so slowly, and all you wanted to do was rip your head off out of boredom. mrs. smith had been droning on and on about physics for half an hour now. you had been listening of course, but only for the first 30 minutes before your mind drifted away.
midterms were coming up. you couldn’t wait to get it over with, looking forward to the week-long break ahead. you were exhausted, or no, that didn’t seem like the right word. you just didn’t feel like following your usual routine anymore.
wake up. go to school. listen to discussions. write notes. study. go home. study again. finish writing notes. review them. sleep. and the cycle repeats.
life had always been like that for you for as long as you could remember, maybe even since you were born.
now, you were burned out. or maybe just bored. yep, that seemed like the right word for it. just straight-ass bored. you wanted to deviate from your daily routine. anything to keep your mind off of everything, especially academics.
you knew you were doing well. you barely had to worry. you were more-so worried about your nonexistent sex life. for the past few months, you’d been really craving for some action. not out of peer pressure of course. you weren’t so sure if it just had something to do with realizations of a teenage girl or if someone just accidentally poured a dose of viagra in your drink when you first went to a club all by yourself. tons of overthinking happening there. that was months ago, so there was no way the drug could’ve lasted that long.
you’re not so sure who you are anymore, to be honest.
nonetheless, the truth is that you were a horny teenage girl who craved some action. no one in your school could have ever guessed that since you’re the goodie two shoes who’s almost always the top of her class and puts on extra work to earn extra credits from teachers. that excited you in some way. no one else knew about that fact but you.
at last, the bell rang. mrs. smith ended the discussion right on time (you weren’t listening anymore. did she say anything about laws of conservation of energy?). standing up from your chair, you quickly packed your things and left the classroom, on your way to the the soccer field. your safe haven, you’d like to call it.
why there? well, because the cafeteria was too crowded for your liking. you were claustrophobic (you just hated everyone). you loved being alone anyway, and you’ve always went there to eat lunch because it was peaceful and windy outside, unlike the cramped canteen that smelled of sweat and food so disgusting you would not dare put in your mouth again.
passing by some of your favorite teachers, you greeted them with a smile on your face.
you never liked being known as the ‘teacher’s pet’, because it made you seem like you were only close with the teachers for extra credit, when in reality, you really were just a friendly person. people just liked to talk and all. at this point in your life, you really just didn’t care anymore and let them say whatever they wanted to say. as long as they aren’t going anywhere near you, you’re sure you’ll survive this school year (like previously) just fine.
once you arrived outside, you sat yourself on one of the bleachers, the middle part to be more precise. you quietly ate your lunch, looking out on the field. the only sound audible was the clanking sound of your utensils. it was mostly empty, except…
a familiar figure caught your eye in the middle of the field.
munching on your food, you squint your eyes to try to make out who it was. a part of you was a 100% sure it was one of the school’s soccer players since he wore a jersey with a number and his last name on it.
05 sim
oh. you knew exactly who that guy was.
sim jaeyun. everyone in school calls him jake. right, everyone knows him. you’d be surprised if there was someone who doesn’t unless they were a transferee. jake was one of the few guys high school girls disgustingly swooned over. apparently, he was everything a girl could ever want.
looks? check. intelligence? check. height? slightly. athletic? check. hot voice? double check. sex god? triple check. or so that’s what you heard from those giggling girls that hangout near your locker every after class.
you didn’t get the appeal at first, especially since you thought he was just a good old nice guy who happened to be one of those who accidentally became popular because his looks. based on rumors, it turned out you were completely wrong.
you hate to admit it but as time passed, you did eventually find him attractive (and still do). you could see why everyone liked him. now that you wished you could feel what it’s like to be well taken care of by a guy who could not only make everything in your life better but also fuck the living daylights out of you, you couldn’t help but imagine jake being that guy.
“oh what the fuck am i thinking.” you muttered out loud, shaking the thoughts out of your head. you couldn’t believe you were having those kinds of thoughts while eating lunch and staring hard at jake.
you gaslit yourself into thinking it was fine and totally normal since he was the only guy you found good looking in your school, and happened to be in your view. you could eat him up if you wanted to—
god not again.
mentally praying to god to forgive you for those intrusive unholy thoughts you were having, you shut your lunchbox shut and grabbed your things. trying (a bit too hard) not to drop them, you scurried off and out of the soccer field, hurrying back inside the school to pull yourself together.
because what kind of girl, especially who everyone thinks is “innocent”, thinks of having sex with a guy, who probably isn’t even aware of her existence, and way out of her league, while eating lunch? you were definitely going insane.
“i need therapy.” you whined quietly to yourself, clutching your things tighter to your chest.
you were completely oblivious to jake catching a glimpse of you ever since you walked into the field. it was definitely better that you didn’t know about that because god knows what worse things you would’ve thought if you knew and stared right back at him too.
• • •
you weren’t so sure if god was by your side or against you at this point. was he secretly listening to your secret unspoken prayers of having an opportunity to talk to the one guy you’ve been thinking about (unnecessarily too distracted. you only ever pass by him in the hallways) for weeks? or did he just want to see you suffer for having sinned and going against what you were supposed to believe in?
you aren’t a very religious person, but you sure are debating now if you should become one.
because sim jaeyun is sitting right next to you in class, looking a bit too good-looking with his stupid ruffled hair and plump lips, since when did he have such clear skin and luscious hair?
life was so unfair. unfairingly amazing. this is one of the few moments where you silently thanked god.
two weeks after midterms, classes officially started for the final term. you were more than prepared and a bit excited to receive your grades, knowing you did well in the exams. what you weren’t prepared for was how sim jaeyun entered your classroom, with his bag slung over his shoulders, your teacher introducing him to the class, and how he’ll be moving to this classroom due to his excellent grades and performance during the midterms.
what the fuck. that’s all you were thinking the whole time your adviser was talking, while jake stood beside her in front of the class with that ridiculously handsome grin on his face. you weren’t so sure what to feel. pissed? relieved? thank the heavens above that this god of a man can finally know about your existence?
you shake your head, realizing you’ve been staring too long at your new seatmate before you turned your attention back to the board and listen. this was it. maybe god really did answer your prayers and provided you with the opportunity to do whatever you wanted for the past couple months. on a silver platter. a full-course meal.
side-eyeing jake, he catches your stare and you immediately look to the front again. why’s he staring at me? is there something on my face? why’d he have to have that look? it’s so annoying. please look away. you mentally ranted, tapping one foot lazily against the ground.
the entire session, you didn’t try to look at him again after that. however, that didn’t mean you weren’t thinking about him the whole time.
• • •
“y/n.”
were you daydreaming again? why’s jake saying your name in the middle of biology? you really should’ve slept earlier last night. you quietly blame the caffeine that was slowly leaving your system for this hallucination.
“pst. y/n.”
you blinked twice, slowly turning your head to your seatmate. okay, so he was calling you. that was a first. and hopefully not the last.
jake leans towards you and you felt your heart lurch a bit in your chest. god, y/n, pull yourself together! this is the first time you’ve interacted. you better not mess this up.
“i just wanted to ask if you had an extra pen? mine just ran out of ink, and mr. lewis is about to move on to the next slide.”
blah blah blah, proper name place name, backstory stuff. that’s all you were hearing in your head.
his voice really did sound sexy with that australian accent laced in it.
nodding your head at him, you open your pencil case to lend him a pen you didn’t use yet. it was your favorite brand. you would never let anyone else use it. but if it’s jake? you can buy him all your favorite pens in the world if it meant hearing him ask from you every day.
“here you go. you can have it.” simp. that’s what you were, and nothing has even happened yet. you like to cling to that thin string of hope that maybe something could bloom from this small exchange.
jake gives you a smile, as he took the pen from you. you feel his hand linger against yours for a bit before he pulls away. “really? thanks. i appreciate it.” he goes back to writing his notes on his notebook, and you take notice of the way he bites his bottom lip in concentration and squinting his eyes to see the slides on the screen better.
as for you, you were still listening of course, but also thinking about how you’d never have to squint your eyes or try too hard to see how charming sim jaeyun really is.
although, maybe you could try a bit harder if you wanted to test his and your bed chemistry in the near future.
• • •
no. it’s final. you’re going to die a virgin.
the old you would’ve never saw this as something bad or sappy since you didn’t really give a shit about that type of stuff. well, time has passed, things have changed.
“what on earth is wrong with me?!” you grabbed your hair in frustration, throwing a little tantrum in your bedroom. you’ve just finished doing your homework for the day and some extra reading for your literature class.
a month has passed since you’ve started interacting with jake, and you’ve been putting meaning in every single interaction you’ve had which was not helping with your little crush on him.
”i’ve seen you around. i hear teachers talk about you in the faculty all of the time.” so you knew about my existence before we interacted? you definitely like me.
”careful, pretty. there’s some freshmen fooling around in the hallways.” he thinks i’m pretty? full-on delulu mode.
”mrs. smith was looking for you. something about you passing an extra page of solutions way beyond the lessons discussed.” or was he finding an excuse to talk to you? those solutions were done out of boredom anyway.
”you prefer listening, don’t you? or do you just not want to talk to me?” are you kidding? i do want to to talk to you. i just prefer listening to your australian accent. besides, i could do something better with this mouth of mine.
not that you’ll ever admit any of those things out loud.
“no. i do not have a crush on him. i’m just ovulating.” you convince yourself, pacing around your bedroom in small strides. you clearly weren’t convincing yourself very well either. who ovulates for months?
was it still even considered a crush when there isn’t even a time in the day where you don’t think about all the things you would let him do (god would be disappointed) if you just talked to him first? listening was not going to get you anywhere. he might not approach you anymore.
you did not want that to happen.
at the end of your pacing session, you stopped being in-denial and come into terms with your feelings. not only were you extremely attracted to jake, but you also wanted to get laid. who else to do the job for you other than the sim jaeyun who definitely looks like he’d do an amazing job?
that gave you a new goal for this school year.
you opened your notes app on your phone and typed it out.
GOALS FOR THE SCHOOL YEAR:
- finish the school year maintaining my rank as a top student.
- fuck sim jaeyun. (badly want to be done!!!)
• • •
the buzz of chatter filled the classroom as mrs. smith talked about having a demonstration project that showcased the principles of electromagnetism. the whole term will be given for everyone to work on the project and present it before the final term exams.
a classmate raised their hand, asking if it will be done individually since it sounded like a huge project to do alone. for you though, you wouldn’t mind if that was the case.
mrs. smith smiled sweetly, motioning for them to put their hand down. “that was the next thing i was going to say. the project will be done in pairs. before any of you ask, i’ll be the one to choose your pairs. i have a list right here.”
you bit your lip in anticipation, the groans and complaints of your classmates filled the room. a part of you was nervous about who your partner will be because it was highly likely that you’ll be doing the project all by yourself.
unless…
mrs. smith started naming the list of project partners and you feel your heartbeat start to speed up when you realize your name wasn’t called yet, and half the class already was.
you kept your gaze on the board, barely listening anymore until…
“and last but not the least, sim jaeyun and y/n l/n.”
your pulse quickened at the sound of jake’s name. whispers and mutters could be heard among your classmates the moment both of your names were called. “isn’t that cheating, ma’am? you’re pairing two of the best students together!” one of your classmates blurted out, earning a few laughters.
that was a compliment you could take.
“i promise you, macky dear, the pairs were chosen randomly.” mrs. smith replied, assuring the class that everything was fair and square, even though you were also debating in your head if it really was.
you peek a glance over at jake, just as he turned and caught your eye. he gave a small nod and a friendly smile, sending your thoughts into a spiral. a huge part of you was excited, but a small part also was making you feel nervous of spending time alone with him outside of school.
mrs. smith turned her wrist to look at her watch, “alright. i’ll give you the rest of the period to discuss with your pairs. go on, everyone. chop chop!” oh god, this is it. you thought, mentally preparing yourself for what you were going to say. you needed to take the lead or you were going to go insane.
a screech of the chair against the tiled floor snapped you out of your thoughts, eyes widening a bit when you realize jake had moved his chair closer to your desk. you keep yourself compose, clearing your throat and dusting off imaginary dust off your uniform.
“hey again.” jake greeted with a grin, pushing his hair back, “have any thoughts on what we could do for this project?”
darn that gorgeous hair. “hey to you too.” a hint of a smile tug on your lips, mentally giving yourself a pat in the back for staying composed. “well, i was thinking we could build a model on electromagnetic induction. per se a simple generator that shows how changing magnetic fields can produce electricity.”
jake nodded thoughtfully, resting his chin on his hand. “i like it. we could even add a small light bulb to show when it’s working. as for materials, we’d need some copper wire, magnets, and maybe a hand crank.”
you blinked twice in amazement, finding yourself drawn in by the way he explained things. jake’s voice was steady and confident, and you couldn’t help but notice the easy charm in the way he carried himself, how his eyes seemed to sparkle when he talked about physics.
“i can get the copper wire and magnets. i know a shop downtown that has them.”
“perfect.” jake replied, his lips curling into a half-smile that made the room a little warmer (why were you sweating), and your thoughts wander to places you probably shouldn’t let them go.
“i’ve got some spare parts from my dad at home that we can use for the base and crank.” you wondered if his voice would sound different in a more private setting, if he’d be as confident about things that had nothing to do with physics.
okay there, y/n. hold your horses.
nodding away your intrusive thoughts, you force yourself to stay in topic and keep the conversation going. “so, when do you want to start? i’m free whenever.”
jake leaned back slightly against his seat, putting his hands behind his head. you clench your hands into fists about how incredibly hot you were feeling right now. why did him doing the barest of minimums make you feel like you were going to explode?
the thoughts. put them at the back of your mind. we’ll think about the way his biceps flexed against his uniform later. just not now of all times!
“hm, how about this weekend? we could work at my place.” you squeaked, grateful that jake didn’t seem to notice your reaction. “it’s quieter, and i’ve got a good setup and place for projects.”
“y-your place?” you repeated, mentally cursing yourself for stuttering. a mix of excitement and nerves running through your veins. this was totally it for you. “sure, that works for me. saturday afternoon?”
jake’s glance held yours for a moment longer before nodding, “yep. saturday’s good. can you give me your phone number? i’ll text you the address.” without a second thought, you gave him your phone number with ease. you were totally keeping things professional.
after he texts you the address, you changed his contact to his name. “i’ll be walking my dog before we get to work though. hope that’s fine with you.” jake mentions all of a sudden.
“no problem at all.” you assure him, having found a new interest at the mention of his dog. “what’s your dog’s name?”
“layla. she’s a border collie.” jake sits up from his chair, smiling even wider with the fact that you asked about his dog. “she’s a sweetheart, you’ll love her. you’ll see her this weekend, and don’t worry, she doesn’t bite.”
you let out a sarcastic scoff, “hardly doubt that. i have severe trust issues. the last time i tried petting someone else’s dog, i ended up with a huge bite on my wrist. definitely not something i would want to risk experiencing again.”
jake laughs, “really? that’s insane! i’ve never seen dogs that aggressive before.”
“when you meet a shih-tzu, you’ll understand.”
“trust me, layla’s really nice. she likes meeting new people and can get really clingy once she gets to know them.”
you smile, “we’ll see about that.”
with the project plans settled, there was a brief silence before you spoke up again, not wanting the conversation to end just yet. it was now or never.
“you’re pretty good at this kind of stuff. physics, I mean,” you started. “have you always been into it?”
jake shrugged, a hint of a grin on his lips. “i guess I’ve always liked figuring out how stuff work. always have, though most people just know me for soccer.”
that was true.
“soccer and science,” you teased lightly. “that’s a combination you don’t see every day.”
“yeah, well,” he said, leaning in slightly, “what about you? you’re always at the top of the class. do you ever get tired of being the overachiever?”
you laughed, a little caught off guard by the question, but you’re glad he seems to want to keep the conversation going too. “i guess,” you shrugged, “i’m used to aiming for the top in everything. but honestly, i’m kind of hoping for a little more excitement this year.”
jake’s gaze lingered on you, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he could tell that there was more to your words than you were letting on. that was something you’ll never know for now.
you tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear (not on purpose ofc), growing shy under his gaze and looking anywhere else but his face. “so, besides physics and soccer, is there anything else you’re secretly amazing at?” you asked with a playful grin.
jake raised an eyebrow, a spark of humor in his eyes. “well, if I tell you, then it won’t be a secret, will it?” he smirked before adding, “but, fine… i make a mean instant ramen. like, gourmet-level stuff. think: chopped scallions, the works. not to brag or anything, but i can easily add a soft-boiled egg without breaking it.”
you try to hold in your laughter at jake’s randomness but failed miserably. “how fancy. i guess that means you’re ready to survive college. instant ramen mastery is a pretty big deal.”
he chuckled, leaning in as if sharing a secret. “yeah, i’m prepared for all those ‘late-night study sessions,’ if you know what I mean.” his tone carried a hint of innuendo, just enough to send a jolt of heat to your cheeks.
guess those rumors of him being a natural flirt were true after all.
you tried to keep your composure, fiddling with your pen to distract yourself, and dropped it on your desk. “late-night study sessions, huh?” you shot back, trying to match his teasing tone. “i hope you’re as good at cramming… as you are at cooking.”
jake blinked, momentarily taken aback by your response before breaking into a laugh. “touché,” he said, his grin widening as he looked at you. “you know, you’re cute when you get all bold like that.”
there he goes again. the way he said it, like he was genuinely amused and maybe a little impressed, made your pulse quicken once again. there was something thrilling about the way he could fluster you so effortlessly, and the fact that you’d managed to catch him off guard, even for a moment, made it all the more fun.
gosh, you could hardly believe yourself right now. you let out a laugh, shrugging it off.
“don’t worry, y/n. I’ll keep my late-night ramen skills to myself… for now.”
you giggled, shaking your head. “deal. but if you really want to impress me, you’ll have to show off those ramen skills eventually.”
jake bit his bottom lip and chuckled. you could see a glint of playfulness still in his eyes, “we’ll see,” he said softly. it was a shock you haven’t said anything that would scare him away, thankfully.
WHAT THE HELL. STOP BITING YOUR LIP!
the playfulness in his eyes made it hard to look away, and for a moment, it felt like you were already friends. more than that, even (delulu). It was an easy kind of chemistry, one that made you wonder how many more conversations like this you’d have in the weeks to come.
ugh, i still got a long way to go, and you’re barely even getting there, y/n.
you cleared your throat, breaking the moment before it could get too intense. “well, i should probably start listing down other of the materials that we need,” you said, a hint of reluctance in your voice.
jake’s smile softened, and he gave a small nod. “right. we can’t slack off, can we?” he handed you your pen and notebook from your desk before you could. he steals a glance at you for a moment before dragging his chair back to its proper place. “i’ll see you saturday then. don’t be late, layla hates it when people keep her waiting.”
you laughed and waved him off. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
someone from the other side of the room calls jake, catching his attention. he nods at them, turning to you and nodding once. he stands up from his chair, giving you one last smile as he heads to their direction. you feel your cheeks heat up at his departure.
as soon as jake is out of your vision, you couldn’t help but feel a little giddy, smiling to yourself. the rest of the class continued chatting on around you, but it all seemed muted compared to the pulse in your ears. if today was any indication, working with him was going to be… interesting, to say the least. you’re partnered with sim jaeyun for goodness sake.
as you jotted down the materials list, you couldn’t help but sneak another glance at him across the room. this was just the beginning. you had a lot more planned than just a physics project.
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©2024 ©woniehugs
>>>
#enhypen#enhypen scenarios#enhypen fluff#enhypen drabbles#enhypen soft hours#enhypen smut#enhypen hard hours#enhypen jake#jake enhypen#sim jaeyun#enhypen jake smut#enhypen jake fluff#jake sim#jake sim x reader#enhypen x reader#yang jungwon#lee heeseung#park jay#park sunghoon#kim sunoo#nishimura riki#enhypen imagines#enhypen au#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen suggestive#woniehugs
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Sonofcelluloid’s Top 30(ish) Favorite Devil’s Minion Fics:
In no particular order, this list only includes finished works that are relatively canon compliant (I’ll be making separate lists for AUs and fics in progress.) Anything in italics is a direct quote from the fic or its description. Please remember to check tags and ratings before reading.
You’ll Always Be My Favorite Ghost by lestatslestits: Tales of Armand’s turbo autism as Daniel gets to know and love him. This one is so sweet and had me laughing my ass off.
outcast of all this night by gaypiratedivorce: Modern Devil’s Minion fic of all time. Rewired my brain. "I mean, I don't know how you guys did it in Renaissance Italy, but most people this century get to at least second base before wearing each other's blood around our necks." There’s a part 2: my aid against the boredom of the eternal where they finally hook up. And honestly every fic from this author is a banger.
I’d Break the Back of Love for You by kurow: 70s Armandaniel. A rescue and a sick fic wrapped in one, and I’m a sucker for both.
Like That by GrayGiantess: Fluffy 70s Armandaniel. A tooth achingly sweet first kiss fic, featuring Twinkie’s. Again, every fic from this author is a banger.
The Beginning is the End is the Beginning by trinityofone: Daniel sees a wild vision during his turning. “I deserve this,” Armand said. His hold on Daniel’s throat was almost a caress. “After what I’ve been through, I deserve something of my own, don’t I?”
make a home from a rented house by sleepdeprivedsurgeon: Daniel realizes Armand has never really had a room of his own before. Armand slowly builds his own safe place. Super fluffy autistic Armand stuff. Domestic vampire polycule bonus.
the spiral is unspooling by reedroad: Armand helps Daniel recover their Devil’s Minion years via old video tapes they filmed of their meetings. Absolutely heart wrenching and wonderful and charming and had some of the most jaw dropping plot twists I’ve ever experienced in a DM fic. The last chapter absolutely floored me and rewired my brain forever. May be my #1 fav.
forever’s gonna start tonight by trinityofone: Hate fucking with a happy ending:) Sort of a soulmate fic as well. “I fucking hate you. And you hate me. So something is making us do this.” “I don’t hate you,” Armand pants. “You mean nothing to me. Don't stop.”
care and keeping by katplanet: A surprisingly tender guide for how to step on your boyfriend. Bonus Danlou. Smutty and fluffy and freakayyy. GREAT dialogue. Very funny as well.
hell is: by cannibalenthusiast: Another turning fic. Post Dubai blowout, Armand and Daniel bond over martinis, breakups, and a Survivor marathon. They bang about it. Great ending.
5 Times Daniel Molloy Imagined Killing Marius de Romanus (+1 Time He Actually Did It) by platoapproved: This one is genuinely a masterpiece. Probably my #2 fav. Lots of protective Daniel, some really cool and original vampire-lore stuff, Louis and Lestat being beautifully supportive along with other new side characters. Armand finally gets to process his abuse among allies. A really touching Lestat subplot as well. HEAVY trigger warnings for all Marius related assaults, but obviously we get to watch him die horribly to make up for it:) Absolute banger of an ending, totally sticks the landing.
lesson three: parasitic infections by kanxie: 70s Armandaniel. Armand picks out Alice as a third and does NOT like the way the night progresses. What unfolds is some of the CRAZIEST psychosexual (emphasis on psycho) gremlin Armand shit I’ve ever seen in a fic. So perfectly Armand. Short and sweet, sad ending.
open up your skull, i’ll be there by Anonymous: First time fic. Armand dipped after Daniel’s turning and when he shows up again Daniel ain’t letting him leave. “Your blood is my blood,” Daniel says, and Armand does not flinch. “It’s your blood getting me hard. Your blood that’s pumping through me.” Armand licks his lips, and still doesn’t move. “Please. Armand, Armand, please.” “Beg for it.” “I am begging for it, this is what begging looks like —”
Disintegration by lilacaisle: Daniel goes crazy when Armand locks him in the apartment and tries to burn himself with a cigarette so it will feel like being bitten🙈 Armand does BDSM about it. This one’s actually book Armandaniel but I didn’t notice it until like the third read because it fits show Armandaniel so perfectly.
baby, cry baby by Babeblox: Daniel seeks out Lestat for an interview after Louis’ attack, but he’s being haunted by someone else. Canon divergence. This one legit made me cry. Dark but very sweet. Wild ending.
get in my mind (do you see my heart?) by Marenke: 70s Armandaniel, Armand character study. Armand is pretty sure he and Daniel have never had a problem a little brainwashing couldn’t fix. SICK AND TWISTEDDDDD (affectionate).
The Importance of Being Armand by Siria: Daniel and Armand talk about the power of naming. "If you can imagine a different set of possibilities for me as a vampire, ever think of what you could come up with for yourself, if you put your mind to it?"
Bumpin' That (Bumpin' That Bumpin' That Bumpin' That) by TheAngelsAreWatching: Daniel and Lestat are fuck buddies. They are on a tour bus a la Word Tour. They do coke. They try to bang. And then Armand stops time and walks in. Armandaniel fuck crazy style. Pure filth (affectionate).
Run, Arun! by TheNightColors: Autistic Armand, character study. Daniel learns it was considered a “crime” to turn Armand due to his “mental retardation”. Armand explains what it was like to be an autistic child in the sixteenth century, and an autistic adult for 500 years after. Heavy stuff. Trigger warning for all things relating to Amadeo’s past and for the internalized ableism instilled in Armand by his upbringing.
a haunting just for company by valkyrisms: Post Dubai blowout but pre Daniel’s turning, Armand crashes on Daniel’s couch. A modern Devil’s Minion fic for the ages. These weirdos love each other so bad. Some really memorable tender scenes. This one’s a fan favorite. “You’re fond of me.” “You’re a nuisance.”
The Company of Monsters by ruiqi: A full deconstruction of Marius’ abuse from Armand’s pov as he struggles to keep old patterns from repeating with Daniel. Overall I think this is the most realistic depiction of what it would be like for Armand to come to terms with his abuse in the modern day, especially regarding Daniel’s involvement. He’s totally out of his depth but wants so badly to help. This one made me SOB. It’s honestly a really tough read, but beautifully done. “You said, last night, that he wanted an angel,” says Daniel, “but no one's an angel, Armand. That wasn't fair to you. Besides, who would want an angel when they could have you?” “No,” Armand says. “No, you can’t say that.” “You can’t fucking stop me,” says Daniel. And it isn’t tagged, but this one is incredible autistic Armand representation. Probably my #3 fav.
Smart Boy by heliza24: Just a really good 70s Devil’s Minion era explanation of the events leading up to Armand’s decision to take Daniel’s memories away. Quite a bit of infidelity stuff in this one. Also delves a lot into Daniel’s family history, and an emotional affair is established between them long before they actually hook up. Very emotional. Heartbreaking last chapter.
We Dared Eternity and Won by faerywhimsy: A 70s Devil’s Minion era telling of the four good years they had before everything imploded. Louis has somewhat of a distant obsession with Daniel in this and so is very involved in Armand’s decisions regarding him. Favorite scene is when Armand saves Daniel from a hotel fire and the near loss devastates him because it makes him realize he’s in love with Daniel.
reprise. by SheOfBadIdeas: In Dubai, Daniel demands Armand show him the memories he stole. Armand relays the tale of their romance, but Daniel is begrudged to give Armand the satisfaction of giving in to it. That doesn’t last long;)
Waiting by bandedbulbussnarfblat: 70s fic. Daniel is living with Alice and hasn’t seen Armand in two months. He gets a call from Armand, who just got a proposal from Marius asking him to be his companion again. “I told him I couldn't go back. That I was waiting for you.” Daniel sucks in a sharp breath. Fuck. Armand's voice sounds almost wet, strained and raspy. He finally sounds as vulnerable as Daniel always wanted to see him be. “Should I keep waiting for you, Daniel?” (It’s just banger after banger with this author too.)
The Monster of my Memories by GrayGiantess: In Dubai, Daniel has just remembered his relationship with Armand and he’s PISSED. Armand gladly reminds him he’s waited 40 years for Daniel, he doesn’t mind waiting a little while more, and he’s not so sure Daniel has the same conviction🙈 Phenomenal subby old man Daniel material.
Delicate Machinery by Lilac Tinsel: An in depth look at the 70s love affair that neither man ever saw coming, in all its complicated glory. Really dives into the psychological consequences of Armand’s constant rejections. Amazing take on what the actual memory alteration would look like. The part that broke me: “I’m sorry for– for all of it. I didn’t realize how much I took. I just… wanted to stop thinking for a moment.” Armand blinks slowly and his eyebrows knit together. His voice is small but steady. “Did you take the drugs so you wouldn’t feel me anymore?”
You Taste Like Suburbia by CannibalGender: This is the only unfinished work I’m putting on this list because it’s so fucking good as is and gave me chills when I read it. It’s the 80s, Armand, famously normal about his partners' families, haunts the Molloys. I absolutely love Alice in this. Paints such an intriguing picture of what these years might have looked like from an “outside” pov.
Two parter I’ll chew you up and I’ll spit you out and Oh dear diary, I met a boy by weathermood: Loumandaniel in Dubai, set just after the season 1 finale. Asks, what if Daniel doesn’t want to remember? An exploration of identity while Louis and Armand try to persuade Daniel to allow his memories of their past relationship to be restored. Explores dreams and memories beautifully and with delightful humor. Classic unhinged Armand.
138 lbs, for the metrically challenged by hummingbeeoOo: Fluffy and funny. After Daniel’s turning and subsequent hunting down of his maker, they’re shacked up and happier than ever, but a little something from the interview has kept nagging at Daniel. Or: there is exactly zero way a beanpole like Armand weighed a measly 62.5 kilograms a day in his adult life. The end of this fic had me kicking my feet and giggling. This whole series is great tbh.
This list is my pride and joy. Thank you to the anon who asked for recs<3 Feel free to share your own favorites in the reblogs:)
#devil’s minion#armandaniel#armand x daniel#interview with the vampire#iwtv#fic#fanfic#fic rec#ao3#archive of our own#words
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Incorrect Quotes
summary : incorrect quotes for my lone warrior series .
read lone warrior series here || like + comment + share please !!

Batfam : Damian who is your favorite family member?
Damian : No one, you all are incompetent
*reader walks in*
Damian : *running towards them at full speed* BLOOD SIBLING YOU'RE BACK !!
Batfam : *watches in jealousy*

Jason : Where is a good place to hide if you don't want to be found by the government ?
Reader: - 77° 50' 59.99" S , 166° 39' 59.99" E
Dick :WHY DO YOU KNOW THAT BY HEART???
Reader: :D 👩🦯👩🦯

Tim : *staring at reader intently*
Reader: *stares at him in boredom*
Tim : you look familiar .......
Reader: Yeah, I think I went out with your mom once *absolutely shitting with him*
Tim : *mortified* WHAT ????
Reader: It wasn't my fault she was charmed by the male version of myself.

Dick :It must suck to be in a morgue like there's nothing fun there .
Reader: I once won a competition for being the prettiest person in a morgue - you can say I practically killed it . Oh, off note the beds there are great to sleep in-
Batfam : *stares at reader in utter mortification*
Bruce : WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY KILLED IT ??
Reader: 😇😇😇💃💃💃

Stephanie :What are your hobbies, reader ?
Reader: I like walking up to random people and shaking their hands only to tell them I have successfully transferred a rare , non - curable disease to them and that they have 1 hour left to live and watch them freakout and cry their eyes out while I walk away.
Stephanie :😨😨😨😨😰😰😰

Duke :any tips for life ?
Reader: You can turn paint thinner into cherry soda if you're desperate for soda that's cherry flavored.
Duke : :that's not a tip-
Reader: *shrugs* suit yourself
Barbara : I would actually like to know more on that.

Cassandra :what's good dating advice ?
Reader: sell it.

this is so random. Sorry 😭😭😭
chapter 3 is still in the works but I felt bad for leaving you amazing pple with nothing for too long so hoped you enjoyed this 💜💜💜💖💖
Taglist
@ellethesleepypotato @1abi @pix-stuff @shadowytravelerlover @cxcilla @vanessa-boo @not-your-average-url @sirenetheblogger @fennecspage @cj-theyoungling @jsprien213 @lonelyladyghost @type-ink @ryuushou @twismare @crazycaoticsimp @bunnyharp @narmothewraith @leelovesmadly @geminis93 @introvertedreader @jellystarjam @glowinthedarkjellyfish @not-a @seemee3 @radomperson2010 @delusiontown-exe @queenofdumbfuckery @bunniotomia @k-homosapien @khalinda-ev @lexi-username-1 @amber-content @yourhornysister @redkarma @scoutyyy @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni
#dc universe#batfam#dcu#dc x reader#damien wayne#jason todd#platonic batfam#bruce wayne#damian wayne#batfam x y/n#jason todd x you#timdrake#dickgrayson#cassandra cain#stephanie brown#barbra gordon#batfam x neglected reader#neglectedreader#batfamxreader#batfam x you#incorrect quotes
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"May you never forget me"
First chapter
Song inspired title: May you never forget me by Temachii
Idea Part 1 Part 2
Platonic! Dad!burning spice x Teenager!reader
Platonic! All x Teenager!reader (gender neutral)
Summary: You were the offspring of the saviour of change, having to watch how your life was quickly destroyed by the now beasts, you choosed to be different from your father.
Warnings: fluff, eventual angst, mayor character death, no beta read
Sorry for bad english, it isn't my natal language.
Word count: 6,9 k

You were the offspring of the saviour of change, Warming spice cookie.
You adored him with all your heart, since he was the light of your existence. Being baked in his shape by the witches in his request.
You were cooked by one of the most powerful witch, in where she used the finest ingredients for your dough and let it rest for 12 days until finally cooking you in the oven. When you were finally baked, she gave you to warming spice cookie as a baby to be taken care of.
From your earlier years you were very adored by him, being dotted at all hours of the day just for doing the simplest achievement.
You also were a lovely child, helping the cookies around you who were in a rush. Making you receive the praise of them, which you adored and always looked foward to.
୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨
From time to time, your father would tell you that you were going to be the Highness of the kingdom one day in the future, which always got you excited. You even made your own carboard crown so you could play to be the ruler with other cookies.
You were seated in front of your father, in the wooden table in front of you there were a lot of papers which your dad was reading attentively. You were swinging your legs in boredom, and your child-like curiosity made you wonder.
"What are you doing?" You asked innocently enough, looking awaitingly at your father who was now looking at you.
"I'm just reading reports about how our kingdom is doing my dear" He explained to you steadily.
"Our? Will it be mine someday?" You looked at him.
"Of course my spice, when you get older enough to completely understand my work and I get tired all this kingdom will be yours to reign" He said softly.
You excitedly stated loudly "Im going to be a Monarch!" While getting up from your chair to jump around the room, your father yous laughed to himself as he continued to read the kingdom's report.
୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨
You always wondered a lot about the things you didn't know as a child, following your dad wherever he went like a little duckling asking all the questions that only a child could have 'why is the sky blue' 'Why do cookies exist' and a lot more, which he always answered with what he knew. Sometimes laughing at the most dumbest ones and other times thinking for a few minutes before giving the best answer he could have thought of.
Warming spice cookie in his free time made you train with him, you didn't really like it but you did so anyway.
୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨
You were in the training room with your dad, you both were friendly fighting so you could level up your skills, yet something is clear, you were miserably failing.
You fell to the ground for the tenth time now, really exhausted. "Come on my spice" your dad said to you. "You have to keep training so you can become as strong and powerful as I am" You got up from your fall and grabbed the wooden sword once more, holding it towards him.
"I'm ready for another round!" You stated loud and clear.
"That's the spirit!"
୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨
Sometimes he left you in the hands of other saviour to take care of you, it was never a problem since they adored you and you loved them back.
Sparkling sugar cookie, the virtue of happines, she let you play in her paradise with other cookies around your age. Her personality was sweet like sugar and everytime you felt sad she would sing a song while playing tunes in her harp so you could calm down.
୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨
You were playing tag with another cookie, while you were running around the big playground in the paradise when you suddenly slipped on a branch, falling to the ground and scrapping your knee.
Your first instic was to cry loudly, which made Sparkling Sugar hurry to your side the second she heard your cries to try to calm you down.
"Don't worry sweetie, is just a rash, nothing serious" her calm words of reassurance didn't stop your sobs. "It hurts" You sobbed, Sparkling sugar seemed panicky then she remembered something "Hey, I just know what will make you feel better my sugar!" She grabbed her harp to start playing with it as she hummed a soothing song.
It was so mesmerizing that you stopped crying just to look at hear her singing, the tunes were hypnoticing and her voice was angelic, sparkling sugar smiled at that.
"Don't worry about that okey? I will take you to the infirmary to get that all patched up so you can feel better and play again" She said calmly to you as she still played the harp, the tunes being hypnoticing. "I would like to" You murmured, your voice still weak from before, yet you didn't feel sad anymore, you felt calm, serene.
୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨
Blueberry milk cookie, the virtue of knowledge, he was the owner of the spire of truth, where a very big library was always open for the public. He usually just looked over you making sure you didn't do anything dangerous or stupid as he worked around, telling you stories from time to time and showing you the greates books you ever had the fortune of reading.
୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨
"Another history!! Please?" You asked him with puppy eyes as you, blueberry milk just sighed "okay, just one more" "yay!" You started bouncing from one feet to another as he looked around the library, looking for a certain book to show you while you followed him from behind, your excitement showing trough your movements.
"I just know what you would like" he said, grabbing one of the book placed in one of the highest bookcase shelf.
He sat on the floor, motioning you to sit next to him, Which you did withouth thinking twice.
"Have you wondered about how the story of earthbread began?" He asked you while opening the book, you nodded at his words.
"I supposed, you always have been such a smart and curious cookie, my little genious" He praised you while he looked through the pages, which made you believe that you were even smarter than you actually were for a moment.
"Well, let's see" He said as he adjusted his glasses " The story begins when this very Silver Tree was only a small sapling. When the World of Desserts was at its infancy. The Witches baked five Cookies to help them in their creation of the world.
The five Cookies imbued with absolute powers walked Earthbread as almighty envoys of the great creators-"
୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨
Platinum salt cookie, the virtue of solidarity, they were a knight who never let anyone down, usually when you were with them he teached you forms of how to fight. And they sometimes let you held their shining platinum sword. Which you absolutely loved.
୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨
You were watching Platinum salt cookie ad they fighted with that shinny sword, you always wondered, how it would be to hold it?
You got close to them, platinum salt stopping in their movements so they couldn't hurt you.
"What are you-?" They said as you touched the handle sword they were helding, while staying completely still. "I like swords, they look shiny"
Silver salt stayed silent for a moment before speaking again. "Have you ever thought of becoming a knight?" They asked you, you looked up to them, stopping holding the sword to start playing with your fingers "yes, no? I don't know, knights are cool" your answer made silver salt laugh.
And lastly Divine flour cookie, the virtue of volition, she was the founder of the Ivory pagoda, where a lot lf cookies went to wish their desires. You usually helped around the temple when you were with her.
"Don't worry my little knight, you will know your path when you get older and maybe we could train together someday." They said to you, which left you a little excited for the future.
୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨
୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨
You were sweeping with a broom every dirt you saw on the floors of the Ivory pagoda, which was very clean usually yet someone spilled some water on the floor and you knew how much responsabilities Divine flour has so you decided to clean it yourself.
While sweeping a figure came towards you from behind, you would have been startled yet you knew it was divine flour, her presence can be felt from miles away and you being close to her made you recognize her from far away.
"You don't have to do that my child" She stated calmly, insisting that you stop. "But I want to, this place is special" You insisted, making sure the floor was all clean.
"Why is this place special then my dear?" She asked calmly, wanting to hear your answer.
"Because you are here" The answer surprised her, making her smile warmling at you.
୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨
No matter how lovely a child is, they grow. Changing their habits and starting to act and look diferent and more mature, thats what happened to you.
You had grown up into a teenager, you were still very nice though your curious part of you has change into precation and maturity.
Currently you were in the spire of truth, reading a book in one of the many seats of the library, calmy looking through all the pages, a sense of calm and serenity washing all over you.
A smaller cookie approached you, looking at you curiosingly and doubt.
"Do you know where the child sector is?" The cookie asked, you just smiled at them.
"Yes, I do. Follow me" You got up from your chair, starting to walk towards the kids section while making sure the younger cookie didn't get lost.
You knew this place like the palm of your hand, having been here since you were a child made you know all the things in here and a lot of books in the place.
A few walks away and you two arrived. "Here we are, there are a lot of books. So make sure to not get too confused while choosing!" You said jokingly with a warm smile in your face watching as the small cookie got lost in the hundreds of book shelfs that were there.
Someone from behind you touched your shoulders, startling you and making you watch behind. "Blueberry milk cookie, don't scare me like that!" You exclaimed surprised, yet you didn't seem annoyed.
"Ah, that wasn't my intention to scare you" The saviour of knowledge stated to you, as calm as he always was, you wondered if he ever lost his composure.
Your thoughts were interrupted with his voice. "I saw how you helped that child, you know you don't have to do that right? It's my job" he commented to you.
You quickly answered "You work a lot around here, and it doesn't take a lot for me to help a bit. Also, the cookie came for help to me first. It's not polite to refuse to help them" You said calmly.
Blueberry milk cookie laughed at your answer. "You never change." He exclaimed with a smile. That phrase builded a questions in you. "What do you mean with that?"
He looked at you "Ever since you were a small cookie you helped around. I'm surprised you don't notice how helpful you are" He laughed a bit. Looking away at one of the windows.
"Warming spice is very strong and smart, yet when he first got you, you were very curious and It sometimes overwhelmed him so he usually left you here with me so I could take care of all your wonders, so I do know very well. I still can't believe how much you have grown since then" Blueberry milk looked at you warmly once again.
"Come on! Don't say that. You, the virtue of knowledge should know that cookies grow." You said, a little embarrased like if he was your parent showing you silly pictures of your childhood.
"I do" he said calmly. "I do very well, Spicy reader cookie" He looked away. This time not looking back at you.
"I have matters to do around here still, I guess the others would love to see you." Blueberry milk cookie said to you as a goodbye. Taking you off guard by how fast he left.
But you thought, he was right, you should visit one of the other saviour. Like divine flour cookie, she would love to see you.
You quickly went to find her in the ivory padora, the thousand stairs made you suffer but you didn't mind it that much since she was always there in the ivory pagoda if you were honest. Very few times you have seen her outside of that place.
You entered the holy place, finding a long line of cookies waiting to get their wishes fullfiled. Of course, this was what this place was all about.
Thankfully, due to knowing divine flour personally and usually helping around instead of praying for a wish you could enter withouth waiting in line.
You skipped through the cookies, most of them knew that you were here to help yet you sometimes heard a cookie mad for you skipping, how rude.
At the end of the line, there you saw her. Divine flour cookie. You quickly went to hug her. "Hello, my dear" She greeted you with serenity, yet you could sense her smile in her words, she started talking again "Why are you here my dear?" She asked curious. "I just wanted to see you" You stated calmly. "And to see if you needed help with anything." You added.
She seemed to be thinking about something for a moment before speaking once more. "You could see if the people from the praying rooms need something" She said to you "right away!"
୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨
A new kingdom has appeared, of course, thousands of new kingdoms appear everyday yet there is something new and especial about every single one of them that made you want to explore them.
You went to search for your dad, which was sitting on his throne. "Dad!" You called out to him. "Yes, my spice?" "There is a new kingdom, can we go see it?" You asked, your voice showing your exciment. "It's the third time this week" "but it is a new one!" Your dad sighed, seeming defeated. "Fine, I'll go with you" "yay!"
You both spent the next hours exploring the new kingdom you talked about, usually you both just looked through the markets but this time you both sat in a bench in front of a lake.
"Spicy reader cookie" "mm?" You looked at your father, yet he was staring straight to the lake.
"I'm proud of you" warming spice cookie stated out of the blue. "Of the cookie you have becomed, I mean" he added, you stayed silent, admiring the lake in front if you.
୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨
You were sitting in your bed while reading some newspaper as you hummed the song sparkling sugar teached you.
Lately your dad has been strange, everytime there is a new kingdom he doesn't accompany you to see it as he usually did before, but it doesn't matter, he must be tired and busy. He is a saviour after all. You just wished he would be free at least once, so you both could spent some bonding time.
Warming spice cookie has also been a lot more irritable, getting angry really easily and screaming at the servants and knights of the kingdom a lot. But you can only guess that he is stressed.
୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨
You walked through the halls of the palace you lived in, looking for your father in all places, just to find him in where you least expected him, in his throne.
You holded the door of the entrance with doubt, why was he here? He haves things to do. After all he is the light of change and the king in charge of this kingdom.
"Dad?" You called out to him as you approached him, he focused all of his attention on you. "There is a new kingdom, on the southern part actually, would you like to visit it with me? I heard they have pretty tasty food" You asked him, putting the best smile you could on your face to try to convince him.
"No" was the word that left his lips, it sounded cold, cruel. It left you in a state of confusion, did something happen that you didn't notice? "Uh, why not?" You said out loud, more of a wonder for you than a question yet he answered it. "I am busy, just go alone" warming spice cookie layed his head in his arms while showing a face of completely boredom.
It confused you even more. "But you aren't doing anything" You stated. Your words seemed to infuriate him. "Do you question what I do?" He snapped, you backed away out of surprise. "Me, your father? The light of change!" He got up from his throne to scream at you, making you squeal a little. "I... No! I just wondered..." You tried to say yet it came out as a mumble. With your hand you were hugging your form, as if that protected you in someway.
He got dead quiet at your answer, just to sit back at his throne like nothing happened. "Do whatever you want" He grumbled, his bored expression came back to his face. You quickly left the place to run back to your room, a little shaken up from the situation. Maybe he had a bad day. He seemed really mad after all, thats it...
Closing the door of your bedroom behind you, you threw yourself onto the bed. Hugging one of the pillows for comfort as you started sobbing. You wished that sparkling sugar was there, so she could play with her harp to calm you down.
You tried to hum the song she sings to you when you are sad, yet from your lips it only sounded like incoherent sobs.
୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨
You decided to go back to the spire of truth, this time mostly to see blueberry milk cookie since you needed advice.
Walking trough the doors into the big library you saw a lot of new books that you never saw before. 'This is interesting, change of plans' you thought as you got lost in the many halls of the library, opening the first book that catched your eye 'historic facts, hmm, this book might be entertaining!' You thought to yourself yet your expectation dropped when you found out that a lot of the facts in the book were, if not all, fake.
You should tell blueberry milk about this! He is surely overworked so he let a lot of these type of errors slip. You quickly went to search for him and tell him about the big error he let pass.
You found him in his counter as usual, he was sitting backwards, watching the big window that lead to the kingdom.
You interrumpted his calmness "hey, blueberry milk cookie?" He turned around to start looking at you. "Yes, my little lamb?" He said, with a wide smile.
"I found some books that have wrong imformation, that the entire thing is false." You informed him, just to receive a laugh in response.
"Oh, about that! I know about it, don't worry about it!" He explained to you as if that did it any better. "But, there are a lot of those" you tried to reason with him.
"Just leave it that way, a little lie doesn't hurt anybody " You felt your throath closen, yet you couldn't say anything really, he was the light of knowledge while you were the offspring of the light of change. Blueberry milk just knows better. "Fine, I guess..."
You left his counter withouth saying goodbye, too shocked to really say anything. But you guess he is right. Maybe by tomorrow he will go back to his senses and change all that nonsense.
୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨
Considering how down you have been feeling lately, you decided to visit sparkling sugar cookie, she doesn't really haves the best advice but she really knows how to calm you down.
Entering her paradise, you found a lot of the cookies looked all happy, but in a stramgely unnerving way. All having the same sense of satisfaction 'why is everybody looking like they ate too much candy' you thought to yourself. It doesn't matter really, maybe a big event that you wasn't aware of happened and now everybody is happy for that.
After a bit of looking, you found the person you were looking for. "Sparkling sugar cookie!" You called out to her, she looked at you with her bright pink eyes. Have them always been this bright?
"My sweetie!" She gushed, going to your side. "It's been soo long since I last saw you my swetie" She stated.
"I know, I'm sorry" you apologized. "I have been very worried lately, that's why I came here to see you, since you know. The harp and your voice" "Aw, thats soo sweet! But right now I'm a little lazy to sing but I can play some tunes for you if you want" she said to you with her voice sweet like sugar. To it seemed a little bit more deeper than last time you saw her, different from what you remember.
"Sure, I would like to" At your answer she made you both sit at one of the benches as she started to play the harp. It was mesmerizing, yet when you looked away from the harp and into Sparkling sugar something about her appearance was off, yet you couldn't pinpoint what it was.
Suddenly, you started to feel really happy, like you haven't had any of the worries you have had for the last couple of days. Which was strange since you did have and a lot. "Sparkling sugar?" "Hmm?" "I'm feeling really happy" You told her, she smiled at that.
"That is very good my sugar!" she said you. "After all, happiness is very important here, to always be happy" she said to you.
"If you stay here, you will always be happy! You won't have to even lift a finger and all of the rest of your life will be luxurious"
"I can't stay here, my dad-" "oh, don't worry about him! He doesn't and won't mind at all! After all he trusts me and he trust you to make the best choice for yourself, I am right?" She tried to convince "Yeah, I guess. But I stilll have a lot of things to do" you explained your reasons to not stay in the paradise, but sparkling sugar didn't really seem to care "You don't have to do them, I will have everything ready for you to stay here forever" she said while holding your hand, her hands were warm.
"No, I will go back home" you got up from you bench, a little confused as you left the place, Sparkling sugar cookie didn't really try to stop you yet you could feel how she seemed really irritated.
୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨
You walked home in silence, thinking about the conversation you had with Sparkling sugar over and over again, something was very wrong but everthing she said sounded just right.
You decided to ignore and forget, you had enough trouble with your dad being constantly angry to care about it.
The next days were similar, your dad being more demanding with the servants, knights and more importantly, with you.
You are afraid of talking to him since the slightest thing that ticks him off makes him extremely angry, is like being with a time bomb with no visible timer, you don't know when it's going to explode until the consequence of the explosion are shown.
So even though you felt bad you avoided your own father, trying to make shortcuts around your home just to avoid him.
Also, you just stopped visiting blueberry milk cookie after a while too. Everytime you went you just had a bad feeling in your gut that something was going to happen. So you just avoided the place altogether.
Same with Sparkling sugar, the last interaction scared you to your dough even if you didn't wanted to admit it since she didn't do anything wrong, she just wanted you to stay with her so you could be happy and you refused her very rude now that you think about it, so you feel bad.
And something strange happened with divine flour, just like the other you wanted to visit her but when you arrived to the Ivory Pagoda it was closed. Of course, Divine flour from time to time closes the Ivory Pagoda to take a break but she warns days before doing it. This time was withouth any type of warning or sign.
୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨
Walking trough the thousand stairs, you found yourself watching a closed altar, divine flour was no where in sight.
Outside there were a lot of angry cookies wanting to enter, to be able to pray for better and wish for goods.
You approached one of them. "Do you know why it is closed?" You asked, the cookie in front of you seemed really distressed "Nobody knows. There was no warnings, She just dissappeared." The cookie answered
"The Ivory Pagoda was completely shut down from inside out. So I guess divine flour is still inside. But there is no way to prove it, especially if no body can open the place."
You just looked at them with conflicted feelings "Thanks you for your honesty" You thanked them quietly, choosing to leave the place seconds after.
୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨
You were currently in silver salt's living room, usually you two trained together in order to get stronger but this time you were rambling to silver salt cookie about all the things that have been happening to you these past days while they prepared some tea for the both of you to drink.
"It is just soo strange! My dad have been very angry lately, I just can't have any normal conversation with him before he snaps, it is just so scary to talk to him" You explained to silver salt as best as you could. They placed a teapot and two cups in front of you in the table. Sitting beside you in the couch you were currently sitting on.
You spent the next minutes was you telling them your experiences with the other saviours, and the strange attitudes they have been having. They from time to time patted you on the back to give you comfort, listening attentively to you withouth saying any words.
Noticing their silence you stared at them, "Why aren't you saying anything?" You asked confused, then you sighed, looking straight ahead to the warm cup of tea in your hands. "Actually, I understand it, I wouldn't know what to say either..." you justified their actions. Taking the last sip before getting up from the couch.
"I should go home, I guess, Is getting late" you said with doubt while looking at the window. You walked to the door, opening it yourself.
"Goodbye" You said to him as you closed the door behind you. Not receiving an answer back. You ignored it, he must be as shocked as you are.
୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨
You felt dumb for not realising sooner, the signals were all over the place but you just decided to ignore or justify them, the way sparkling sugar wanted you to stay, how Blueberry milk wanted to lie a bit, how silent silver salt was, that the ivory pagoda was closed and more importantly, that your own father, warming spice cookie, was agressive towards you.
Once promised saviors, the five became twisted apostles of evil and brought only darkness and devastation. Their virtues becoming distortioned, Knowledge became Deceit, Volition became Apathy, Happiness became sloth, Change became destruction, and Solidarity became silence. But that wasn't the only thing that changed.
The cookies you adored since birth, the cookies that raised you since you left the oven for the first time changed too. Were replaced by shells of what they once used to be. You wanted to scream at them and reason with them, but you didn't want to become corrupted too. And you weren't that strong mentally to be able to decipher the manipulations of the now beasts before they got to your mind.
Ignoring your hurt feelings and broken heart you had to evacuate the entire kingdom as fast as you possibly could so there is the smallest amount of hurt citizens. As the next in charge of the kingdom you had the obligation to take care of the citizens, even from the own king or this time around, your own father.
You were currently in a Refugee camp, made out of neccesity, emergency and desperation. Though all the cookies in there including yourself made the pact to call it a safe haven so the younger cookies don't loose their hopes of survival and a the wish of a better future.
Holding tightly a weapon, you practiced your fighting skills a little. You were the child of the once light of change so you knew how to protect yourself and others. But you wanted to be able to protect your citicens and your kingdom if you had to fight face to face with one of the beast, at least even if you aren't strong enough to win you will be able to buy the citizen cookies some time to escape.
Even so there was something you couldn't fully grasp, the way the cookies glared at you and your sword. The whispers that paused when you got close. How weak the cookies sounded when they talked to you. And yet the younger cookies adored you, being close to you in the 'safe haven' at almost all times while the more older cookies were just soo strange. You just wished you knew what was the thing they disliked about you.
୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨
In the back of the emergency camp you could see a group of cookies in the furthest corner talking fast, yet no more loud than a mere whisper.
You choosed to eavesdrop it, making sure nothing was out of your control here "The supplies are getting lower and lower by the day! They are going to become scarce in just a few days" one of the cookies whispered, it's voice showing the desperation all in the place were trying to hide, you then opted to interrumpt the cookies.
"The supplies are getting low?" You asked calmly, yet with a serious face that didn't seem to unwaver. "Spicy reader" one of them gasped, but not in a good manner. "We were just wondering about how the supplies were! Please don't get mad at us" "And why would I get mad?" You asked, something that irked in the back of your mind until now told you all the answers you didn't wanted to hear.
But then an aching pain started in your heart. Is right, they are afraid of you. After all you are related to the now beast of destruction. They have every reason to distrust you and that makes you sad.
"Im not him" You quickly replied to your own question, not waiting for the cookies in front of you to answer. "Warmi- Burning spice cookie, I mean. You all can trust me" you tried to calm them down and ease their fears, However it didn't seem like your words calmed their worries about you completely they had no choice but to rely on you.
"We need supplies, all the cookies here do." One of them said worried. You listened intently to it and thought.
"We could do an expedition" You suggested after a bit of thinking "It's the only think we can do right now" You explained calmly.
"Of course, having a garden would be nice and it would bring food easily yet it requires time, work and a safe place we do not have as of now."
୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨
Later that day some of the strongest cookies including you packed some provisions and prepared everything to leave. You grabbed your weapon, holding it tight in your hand, hopefully you don't have to use it...
"Spicy reader cookie?" A shy child-like voice called out to you, when you looked the place where it came from. You found a young cookie, but wait... You know this cookie! They were the young cookie you helped at the library where blueberry milk cookie used to work at. How long ago was it?
"Please don't go! We need you here!" The child cookie cried out to you, your heart tightened yet you had already made a choice. "Hey, it's okay. Nothing will happen to me. I will go back here with you full of food, water and toys! Isn't that nice?" You said with a excited voice. Tho it didn't seem to calm the younger cookie.
"We have to go" One of the cookies called out to you, all of the ones that were going expeditioning were on the exit. The child tried to grab your hand yet you were faster to leave.
"I will come back, I promise!" You said to them as you left the 'safe haven'
୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨
Outside it was a mess, the kingdoms were utterly destroyed, the forest were devoid of nature and the worst thing to see, the lifeless body of thousands of cookies. You tried to close your eyes everytime you saw one.
You were currently in a forest that hasn't saw the horror of devastation yet, grabbing the fruits from the trees and putting them in a basket was all you did.
The chirping sound of a bird called your attention, it has been soo long since you saw a bird or animals in general! You got away from the group, ready to pet the bird.
When close enough to the bird you kneeled in front of it, holding your arms out to it, trying to touch it, The bird let you pet them. It felt soft, you felt calm for once in a long time, your multiple thoughts being reduced to the state of calmness you were currently in.
"What is that?" You heard one of the cookies squeal from far away, making you realice weren't currently in a safe place. Then you heard the sound of slicing from behind you, then screams of agony that were quickly turn into dead silence in the fraction of mere seconds.
The bird was quick to fly off, leaving you alone with a sense of dread.
"That was... soo boring!" You heard a masculine voice roar full of boredom, a voice you fully knew to who it belonged.
You quickly grabbed your weapon, holding it tight as you were full of fear, yet determination.
"Father!" The scream made burning spice cookie to turn it's head to look at you, you holded your sword upright towards him.
"This is wrong, very wrong" you said, trying to keep your voice as neutral. But he was your father and he knew you too well to know that you were having very conflicted feelings. "Stop, for what? Nothing changed for thousands of years, so I did something to change the path myself" He explained, you didn't recognize the person who was in front of you, you didn't recognized your father in any shape from long ago.
"Warming spice-" You said, quickly realicing your error and stopping your tracks, Burning Spice cookie looked at you with more hatred, yet for some reason he didn't attack you yet.
"My spice, you are betting for the losing team" He started with. "You could join us, the beasts. You will be strong, the strongest cookie between all of these weaklings." "So Spicy Y/n, will you join me,?" The thought of ever being by their side made your stomach churn.
"Remember how excited you got when you were youngef thinking about becoming the next ruler, do you want to give up that dream now?"
Listening to his proposal, that wouldn't be so bad, But... what are you thinking? You are just griefing about the past and how things used to be before "I... Can not..." You said between breaths, more slowly than you should have due to the shock, but you quickly recomposed yourself.
All of those cookies that would be alone and afraid with another threath...
"I will fight for us to go back to normal, even if I crumble in the process" You stated with pure determition, looking at burning spice cookie eyes, the hold of your weapon was more secure now. Your answer seemed to irritate yet awaken something in Burning spice you couldn't decipher.
You took the first strike, trying to hit him with you weapon yet he dodged it, he then tried to slice you with his axe like weapon. you barely managed to dodge it, But you did and you weren't going to back down any time soon.
For the next minutes you both fighted, one for a greater good and the other just for the thrill, but it was obvious who was the stronger one.
As time passed you have got more tired and weak, beong more reckless and slow in your movements too. But you can't give up now, not when you are soo close of winning...
Burning spice cookie threw his axe at you, you were going to dodge it but you could only gasp when you felt your jam blood start to paint your hands.
"D-dad?" You mumbled real shaky, as you instantly fell to the ground due to the pain. Something flashed in burning spice eyes, Something you recognized.
"Spicy reader cookie!" He screamed at you, more desperate. His voice wasn't as sweet and calm as warming spice's cookie was but it wasn't like the last time you heard it. It was... something in the middle of corruption and pureness.
Burning spice cookie kneeled to your side, yet he didn't touch you nor tried to heal you. "I thought that you were... stronger..." Burning spice cookie said with a conflicted voice. That made you uneasy "I should have trained to be stronger back then, so you and I wouldn't have ended like this..." you cried out, already feeling.
He seemed taken aback, but he quickly got up from where he was, watching as you slowly stopped breathing until your heart wasn't beating anymore. Not doing anything to help you change your fate, yet not willing to let you go.
"I'm sorry" a voice that sounded like warming spice said to you, in your last moments you got esctatic to be able to hear it one more time. "Warming spice cookie? I'm so glad I can hear you once more dad!" You said your last words with a cracky voice, that showed your happy sorrows, your eyes red from crying showing the brightest joy he has ever seen in a while from you, and the last.
You died believing that your dad finally got back to his senses even if it was through your death, which you would have been happy if that was like it, but it wasn't. Your death showed a very vulnerable piece of him that burning spice would never want to admit, and finally seeing you gone made him yet weaker, fall even more into the depths of darkness.
He was weak from the fight, since you took a lot of power out of him, but he feels a regret he doesn't know he will be able to repair, but yes to numb. How? Destroying everything that once reminded him of you.
୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨
After your death was announced burning spice was full of energy yet at the same time he was utterly heartbroken, while the other beasts were mad, completely mad and repeled and disgusted by Burning spice cookie. Causing a rift between all of the beast, to which in consequence made them constantly fight eachother, making them weak, mentally and physically.
The witches took advantage of their weak state due to the loss of a loved one. Caging the beast and sealing them far away from any cookies they could hurt. planting the seed of the Silver Tree around their cages to ensure their evil power never sees the light of day again. From then on, this land where the Beasts were put to sleep, was called Beast-Yeast.
Your name was deleted from history books, your appearance was forgotten, everything that you once said or did was destroyed beyond repair or removed, Everything you once were was gone. Only being remembered as the unnamed dead offspring of the beast of destruction. Everything was forgotten about you, except one thing. Your sacrifice.
You died by the hands of your own father, who has fell under the dark ways of corruption, and instead of taking the easy way and joining him you choosed to fight for the greater good. Which led to the beasts to be finally weakened enough to be put in their silver cage even if that lead to your innevitable death.
The witches knew one thing that the cookies did not, you were deserving of life. You did everything right in your life, your only wrong doing was being the child of a beast. So the witch that baked you knew one thing. You deserved a second chance, a rebirth. So you could live another life and this time have a happy ending.
But when? The witch decided you were going to be rebaked the moment you were found a worthy caretaker. Someone you could look up to and who wouldn't fall into the depths of darkness. Only when someone like that was found, you would be rebaked one more time.

Notes: It got a little lazy at the end, ignore it, I has to rewrite the whole Eternal dugar part since I wrote it a little before the update and I got tired due to that.
Also, there isn't really a lot of information about how were the beasts before corruption so i did my best. I also made Silent salt cookie gender neutral since I don't know their gender.
Comments, likes and reconstructive criticism are highly appreciated!
Tag list: @masterradd-28
Tell me in the comments if you want to be added to the tag list

Edit 1: Just changed it to be more visually appealing.
#cookie run kingdom#cookie run kingdom x reader#cookie run kingdom x you#crk fanfic#crk#x reader#burning spice cookie x you#burning spice cookie x reader#burning spice cookie#silent salt cookie#eternal sugar cookie#mystic flour cookie#dark milk cookie
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Good Luck, Babe! (1)- Arms Out Like An Angel
Wanda Maximoff X Reader 18+
Inspired by the song 'Good Luck, Babe!' by Chappell Roan Summary: Returning to Westview after twelve years away causes you to look back on your secret love affair with Wanda, to remember the intimate moments you shared together before her refusal to accept her true self drove the two of you apart, leaving you to pick up the pieces of your broken heart alone.
What happens when you reunite with the woman you've been trying so hard to forget, forced to watch her suffer in an unhappy marriage that was slowly drowning her, still too scared to confront her true feelings?
Chapter 1- 3.9k- Mature Rating
Good Luck, Babe! Masterlist
Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4
A/N- This fic will include mature themes such as smut, descriptions of internalised homophobia, drinking, mentions of unhappy marriages and more. Please consider these warnings before reading.
For clarification, Wanda and Reader are both 18 in this fic and the legal drinking age is 18.
---
Hiding a yawn behind your hand, your face expressed your boredom as Professor Harkness rambled on about the context of the novel you were covering in class, her hands moving emphatically in the air as she tried to get her never ending point across, much to your dismay. A sigh of annoyance left you when Steve raised his hand to ask a question, your gaze burning a hole into the back of his head as the teacher started to talk about another useless point, Natasha next to you chuckling at your irritation as you leaned back in your uncomfortable seat, tilting your head to her to show her your lack of interest.
"There's only ten more minutes," she whispered, trying to reassure you as your fingers impatiently drummed against the desk, the redhead amused at the way your shoulders slumped in defeat, eyes trained on the clock at every torturous second that passed by.
"More like ten years," you muttered in annoyance as you let your gaze wander across the various heads in front of you, naturally landing on the brunette's across the class from you. It was like a strange, gravitational pull as your bored eyes searched for her, observing how Wanda smiled politely at Miss Harkness, your heart unable to stop the gentle flutter the sight of her caused. Her fingers toyed with a stray strand of her hair as she intently listened, all of her attention devoted to the woman at the front of the room whilst yours remained on her, a smile threatening to lift the edges of your lips at the way her fingers soon started to spin the rings on her fingers, something she told you confidently she didn't do. You tampered down the smile as you let your thoughts drift away from the Literature lesson you were in, letting them wander towards Wanda to help the time pass, memories of your secret times together consuming your mind.
The shrill sound of a bell knocks you out of your daydreams, your eyes flickering across the room as you move to copy everyone else in packing your books up, Natasha shaking her head playfully at you and chuckling as you frantically try to catch up.
"Come on, I want to go for a smoke," she muttered as she waited for you, your stuff haphazardly shoved into your backpack as you followed her out of the classroom, your eyes briefly meeting Wanda's as she smiled at you shyly, not trying to be too obvious as you walked past her, ignoring the way warmth and affection flooded through you at the small interaction.
"I'll meet you outside, I need to grab a book from my locker," you tell Nat who doesn't wait another second for you, walking towards the exit as you make your way through the crowded hallways, barging past one or two people who were being annoyingly slow.
Eventually, you managed to get to your assigned locker, smiling to yourself at the sight of the small note shoved through the small gaps in it, your head turning to check for people before opening the crumpled paper, recognising the delicate handwriting.
Usual spot at 7? x
Folding the note up as soon as you read it, you pushed it into your pockets before grabbing your book, an excitement bubbling inside you at the idea of meeting Wanda later, an onrush of warmth flowing through you as the enticing green fill your mind, your heart skipping a beat every time you imagine that soft and gentle smile.
You tried to push down the love that enveloped your chest when thinking of Wanda but it was inevitable, you had fallen hard for her. You had to remind yourself of how the two of you were actually 'nothing', words the brunette had repeatedly said to you but you knew that couldn't be the truth, the longing look in both your eyes, the delicate moments you shared together couldn't just mean nothing. Maybe you were just just a fool in love, you weren't sure, but all you knew was that you didn't care when you were with her, the secret moments together were enough for you at the moment.
Her laughter caught your attention across the hall, your head naturally turning, lips tugging into a smile at the sound as your eyes met her enchanting green. The room was filled with others but all you could see was her, a silent conversation passing between you as you shrugged your backpack over your arm, your body already moving towards her when the sight of a tall blonde caused you to pause in your tracks, her attention switching to Vision, one of the most popular boys who clearly had a crush on her. You turned your gaze away at the sight of them, a small crack forming in your heart at the wide and bright grin that took over her face when he kissed her cheek, a small bubble of hurt building at the pit of your stomach as you brushed past more students, making your way to the exit without looking back at her, a weight tugging on your heart.
***
Bringing the cigarette to your lips, you waited nonchalantly for the brunette to turn up, your back resting against your truck that was parked behind the small store you worked at, gaze trained on the small bird that had landed on a nearby branch, it's small movements of great interest to you, your mind finding something else but the excitement of meeting Wanda to focus on. Exhaling a puff of smoke once you heard approaching footsteps, you couldn't help but smirk teasingly as you lolled your head to the side, features softening at the sight of her as she shook her head at you playfully, tutting at your actions.
"How many times do I have to tell you they're bad for you?" Her voice gentle and soft yet teasing, an infectious smile gracing her lips as she grinned up at you, leaning against your car as her fingers plucked the cigarette from your mouth.
"At least once more," you mutter as you always did, watching in amusement as she takes a brief drag of your cig before dropping it on the floor, crushing it into the ground with her shoe as her gaze expresses her disapproval of the habit before she steps closer, your arm naturally moving to rest over her shoulders. "You owe me a packet at this rate, Maximoff," you mumble playfully, looking around on the floor at the many remains of cigarettes she'd stolen from you, a soft and angelic chuckle escaping her as she leans into your body, her enchanting green focussed on the small bird from earlier.
"You should be thanking me," she teases as she tilts her head to rest on your shoulder, peering up into your eyes in that intoxicating manner, your gaze softening as you admire her natural beauty, hints of scarlet tinting her cheeks at your adoring look. "I'm saving your life," she murmurs, a hum leaving you as you turn your head away from her, not wanting to kiss her here as you knew it wasn't appropriate.
"More like killing my bank account," your tone is laced with sarcasm as you feel her hand slide into your pocket, taking the packet out of it and into hers so you couldn't use them, your head shaking at her as she thought she was being sly and sneaky.
"Mhmm, whatever," she whispers, purposely letting her accent seep into her words as she murmurs them near your ear, knowing the effect her voice had on you, a low sigh leaving you as you turn your head back to her, noticing the look in them. "Can we go to the Lake?" she asks in a hopeful voice, her green pleading you to say yes, knowing you had a massive soft spot in giving her what she wanted, one of her hands snaking under your jacket affectionately to help persuade you.
Your smile swiftly fades into a mischievous smirk at her words, knowing that most of the time when she'd ask to go to the lake it was for privacy, the serene and peaceful area completely isolated and perfect for the two of you to have some sinful moments.
"Of course," you rasp out, lowering your own voice in revenge for her earlier teasing actions, her teeth biting down on her lower lip seductively as she looks up at you, a genuine smile breaking out on her face at the enamoured look in your eyes before your gaze drifts lower to her lips, her hand slipping out of your jacket as she tilts her head up, letting her lips ghost near yours.
"Come on then, I want to watch the sunset," she whispers out, tauntingly pulling her lips away at the last moment, your body craving to press your lips to hers right now, to have her moaning into your mouth as you pushed her up against your car but you knew it wasn't the place, a small laugh leaving you at the way she enthusiastically makes her way into the passenger's seat. You shake your head whilst looking up at the sky in amazement at how wrapped around her finger you were, the sound of her pressing your horn making you laugh once more before jumping in, ready to take her to your secret spot.
***
Once the two of you arrived at the lake, you swiftly prepared your truck for the two of you to spend the rest of the evening in, the back seats being pushed down and the boot opened as you placed the blankets and pillows down, the sight before you mesmerising.
The body of water stretched a vast distance as the wind caused gentle ripples across the reflective surface, the trees surrounding the car giving you the privacy you both wanted whilst the canvas of the sky gradually grew more iridescent. The scenic view of the sunset, the symphony of colours painting the evening sky, reminded you of the woman next to you as she shuffled her way over to you on your makeshift bed, her body as close as possible to yours as you sat and watched the sun slowly descend. The vibrant colours were powerful, passionate and overwhelming, just like the emotions Wanda evoked from you but the tranquil beauty of it was reminiscent of your time with her, the two of you always sharing peaceful and soft moments just like this one.
Your comparison to her and the natural phenomenon were cut short as her hand slid across your abdomen, the delicate pressure of her hand against you drawing your gaze from the sky to her eyes that you'd argue were more alluring, the shades of green hypnotising. You noticed an expectant look in her eyes before she rested her head against your shoulder, her body cuddling closer to yours as she shared a tender embrace, your fingers reaching down to interlock with hers, letting her play with yours as she knew it was a habit of hers.
"Hm?" your tone questioning as you realised she had asked you something, the pads of her fingers tracing over the lines on your palms before moving to the back of your hand, feeling every small ridge of your knuckles and the light protrusion of your vein to keep her hands busy, the brunette always fidgeting with them.
"I asked what you were thinking about?" she whispers, keeping the tranquil atmosphere that had wrapped around the two of you, the intimacy that was brewing between you both as you relaxed against one another.
"Just how beautiful you are," you say, tone laced with charm and flattery as you offer her a playful smile, leaning your body further into hers light heartedly, your words causing her to grow shy, an accompanying blush creeping onto her face.
"Flattery won't get you anywhere," she huffs out, aware of the warmth in her cheeks and the heat going straight to her core at the way your eyes flicker between her shy stare and mouth, the way your pupils dilate as she subconsciously wets her lips.
"Is that so?" you murmur out, smiling at the way she moves her body to lay down in your truck, her hand fisted in your jacket as she pulls you down on top of her, peering up at you with want in her eyes, legs spreading a little to welcome your body. Bracing yourself above her, you tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear softly, knee sliding between her legs and pressing against her core causing a soft moan to escape her, the sound setting your body a light, arousal clouding your mind. "Even if I tell you how enchanting your eyes are? How your lips are just so... irresistible?"
Her fingers thread through your hair as she pulls you closer to her, your lips brushing over hers, smiling against her lips at the timid expression etched on her face, the obvious blush painting her cheeks.
Before you can say anymore, she tilts her head up to kiss you, the world around you fading away as you focused on the intoxicating feels of her body pressed against yours, the way her back arches, pressing her chest further against yours, legs wrapping around your middle to pull you closer as she gasps into the kiss at the way her hips grind against your knee.
Passion is poured into the kiss as you groan into her mouth at how her fingers tighten their grip in your hair, one of your hands moving to cup her jaw, deepening the kiss as you slide your tongue into her mouth, dominating the kiss effortlessly as she gives you control. As soon as one of you part from the kiss, lips lingering open against one another, the other crashes them back together, addicted to one another as she moans into your mouth, the noise eagerly being swallowed by you as lust takes over, desire consuming you both.
"Fuck," she groans sinfully, accent adding a rasp to her words as you throb around nothing, when you bite her lower lips softly, tongue soothing over the dull pain before you steal another passionate kiss before letting your mouth trail along her jaw, encouraging her to loll her head back so you could pepper hot, open-mouthed kisses along the expanse of her neck.
"Do you have any idea of how truly beautiful you are?" you whisper, honesty and love lacing your words as you peer up into her darkened eyes, one of your hands moving to the hem of her shirt, slowly creeping under it as your fingers drift across the soft skin of her stomach, feeling the warmth her body radiated.
Your words strike a cord in Wanda as the sheer adoration dripping from your voice, the enamoured look in your eyes is too much, the emotion on show overwhelming as love wraps around her heart, the action suffocating as her mind fights what she wants to what she must have, her thoughts tangling together. She loved the way you made her feel, she loved the way your words sent a shiver down her spine, sent warmth pooling between her thighs but she hated how it was you who made her feel this way. She couldn't feel this way, not towards you. She wanted, no, wants you to make her feel this way but she shouldn't. How could she want something like this? It wasn't right... It wasn't how things were meant to go, this wasn't her.
She let out a shaky breath in response to your low voice, your lips stilling against her throat at the way her body language shifted, concern immediately filling you as you pulled back, hand sliding out from under her shirt to not make her uncomfortable as she avoided your gaze, trying to unravel her messy thoughts. This was supposed to be casual. Nothing more.
"Hey," you coo in a delicate voice, trying to get her attention as she blinks back the few tears threatening to spill in her eyes, the sight of her causing something to stir in your gut, a saddened expression taking over your face as you attempt to comfort her. "What's wrong?"
"I'm sorry, I'm just not in the mood anymore," she mumbles, wiping her eyes and moving to sit upright as you sit next to her, confused as to what you did wrong to upset her, a small pang of guilt washing through you.
"Hey," you softly coo once more, gaining her attention as her gaze meets your tender one, "You never have to apologise for wanting to stop, you don't owe me anything." Your gaze expresses how serious your words were, never wanting her to feel pressured, a small smile tugging at her lips at how caring you were, another wave of confusion crashing through her at the butterflies that swarmed her stomach when you kissed her forehead comfortingly. "I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like you had to," you whisper, trying to hide the pain in your voice as you watched her get comfortable next to you, her head leaning on your shoulder despite as her mind screaming at her to get as far away as possible, her heart's craving for you overpowering her. "I'm sorry if I upset you," you murmur, offering your hand out in case she wanted to fiddle with it, your gaze locked on the spectacle happening around you, the sight almost meaningless as you waited for her to relax against you.
"It wasn't you, I promise," she whispers, easing the worry swarming through you, her hand naturally reaching down to interlock with yours, the comfort you provided helping her relax as she tried to push down the variety of emotions gnawing away at her, not ready to confront them. "It's just me I-" she cuts herself off with a defeated sigh, your thumb brushing over the back of her hand soothingly as you let her talk, having a small idea of what she might be referring to. "Can we talk about something else? I don't want to talk about it," she mumbles, her free hand reaching down to pull the blanket over you both as you settle on watching the sunset, your arm moving to rest over her shoulders so she could sink further into your body.
"Is it a bad time to offer you a cig?" you whisper playfully, trying to change the conversation as she had asked, a small huff leaving her as she lightly slaps your arm, a disapproving and berating look in her eyes as she looks at you, a smile taking over your lips as the anxious expression from earlier is replaced, a smile stretching across her lips when she realises what you're doing. "I'll take that as a no," you grumble, dramatically rubbing the spot she lightly tapped making her roll her eyes at your theatrical actions, "Can I at least have my packet back you stole?"
"What packet?" she innocently murmurs out as she avoids your gaze, knowing you'd see straight through her lie, the despondent feeling dissipating into joy as you tease her, your head leaning against the top of hers.
"This one," your tone is cocky as you had slipped the packet out of her pockets, her lips tugging up into a shy smile as she had been caught, a chuckle leaving you at her reaction. "So you're a thief and a liar," you say tauntingly, tossing the packet to the side so you could hold her hand again, the feeling of her fingers playing with yours making your heart flutter, warmth stirring in your chest as you glanced at her.
"I'm not a liar," she says defiantly, various shades of blazing orange and red reflecting in her mesmerising green as you smirk mischievously, knowing how to catch her out.
"I don't play with my rings when I'm bored," you mimic, purposely using a higher pitch voice as you repeat her words from another secret meeting, a giggle leaving her at your poor attempt at her voice. Her hand raises to cover her mouth at the adorable noise, her nose scrunching in the way you loved, a genuine laugh leaving her as she rolls her eyes at you once more.
"Were you staring at me in class again?" she teases back, turning around in your arms so that she is looking at you, her eyes exploring your features as she takes in your beauty, the casual smirk planted on your lips making her own lips curl up into a smile.
"I wasn't staring, I was admiring," you counter, earning another chuckle, "But that's not what we're talking about. I saw you-" Her finger places itself against your lips to silence you, her teeth on show as she grins at you, knowing you were right but not wanting to admit it.
"Why don't we sit in silence?" she teases, your eyes rolling this time as she places a soft kiss to your cheek before sitting next to you again, curling up against you as she seeks the warmth your body always provided, wanting to simply be with you.
A comfortable silence takes over you two as you watch the sky darken, no words needed to understand each other as a gentle touch was enough, the vibrant hues of red and oranges bleeding into pinks and purples before fading into deep blues and greys, the subtle transformation elegant as you savour the moment together, part of you hoping the sun would never have to set as you wanted to stay there with her forever.
Only once the two of you could see stars shining bright and the moon illuminating the sky did you decide to leave, the hours spent together thoroughly enjoyed as you reluctantly took her home, wanting your time together to never end.
Despite the late hour, the two of you were still wide awake, the empty country roads causing you to have the radio on full volume, your gaze inevitably drifting to your side at the sight of the brunette singing along to whatever song was blaring out of your speakers. Her enchanting stare caught yours as she tilted her head to the beat of the music, joy, youth and affection engraved on both of your faces as you listened to her sing, the memory slowly engraving its way into your mind as she unbuckled her seatbelt, her finger pressing the button to open your sunroof.
"Be careful, Maximoff," you shouted over the music, her body standing in your car as her body fit through the gap, your arm wrapping around her thigh to keep her steady whilst her arms stretched out the car like an angel as you sped through the tunnel, adrenaline and excitement coursing through you both as you simply enjoyed being young and carefree.
Her laughter and singing filled your ears as she sang her heart out in the empty tunnel, the sound of the engine, music and her angelic voice echoing around you as you smiled to yourself, unable to stop the love you felt.
You knew in that moment that any doubts you had about calling it off swiftly left your mind, any worries about her never wanting to call it love unimportant as the overwhelming sense of happiness that wrapped around you in that moment was worth everything.
Being with her was worth anything.
#wanda maximoff#marvel fanfiction#wanda x reader#eventual smut#wanda fanfic#wanda x you#smut#wanda maximoff fanfiction#wanda maximoff x female reader#friends to lovers#lesbian#internalized homophobia#good luck babe#secret affair#secret love#wlw
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