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fushiguruuzzzz · 8 months ago

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࣪ ִֶָ☾. For Emma

𝄞 “Saw death on a sunny snow || for every life || forgo the parable || seek the light || my knees are cold || … || for Emma, forever ago” — Bon Iver

Playlist — Rainy Day Lovin’ | Moodboard

Satoru Gojo x Fem!Reader

Words — 7.1k

Cw — reader highkey doesn’t fw Gojo at first, why do I always make the reader like this am I projecting (yes), death, angst, grief, brief descriptions of gore(?), use of y/n, I can’t write this stuff for shit I’m so sorry DONT BASE UR OPINION ON MY WRITING OFF OF THIS PLSPLSPLS, mentions/use of alcohol (reader picks up gojo from a party; he’s drunk), what is it with me and drunk stupid men omg, not proofread, lmk if I missed any!!

Working in a quiet little bookshop, your life consists of only crumpled pages of novels and the weight of your classes resting on your shoulders. When a certain white haired man one year your senior comes by, you’ve already decided you don’t like him. Unfortunately, you’ve always had a tendency to rebel against your own wants. You give yourself to what felt like your beginning and was eventually your end, Satoru Gojo. OR Satoru Gojo hates the rain, but he loved you more.

a/n — ughhhhhdhdhh I spent half of my time writing this procrastinating the ending I’m ngl. This was so difficult to write and then I had a random burst of energy and wrote like half of it in one night like hello???? But it’s probably still blegh idk. Um I’m sorry for this please don’t doxx me. No spoilers but aha…!!!!! I lwk teared up I fear. BLAME SIA FOR THIS NOT ME THIS WAS REVENGE

The very moment you set eyes on Satoru Gojo, you knew he was trouble.

It was a brisk autumn day, shades of brown and orange blanketing the streets and casting a warm, cozy mood over the city. Your little book store was in its element, acutely so. The vintage wood and gold accents strewn throughout the shop reflected the dim light seeping in through the windows, surrounding you in a soft glow.

You were immersed in the newest stock of books, placing each one on the shelf with delicate precision when you heard a bell chime. The dainty little bell at the entrance made only a small noise, but one you’d learned to recognize in your months working here. Stepping down from the stool you’d been balancing on, your foot had barely touched the ground when a whiny voice broke through the silence.

“Suguru,” he drawled, all too pitiful for the time and place. “Can’t you come back later? You keep dragging me into these boring places, I just wanna get mochi,” he groaned. That was when you rounded the corner, entering the line of sight of the two men who had just arrived. One of them was a tall, white haired individual whose face was pulled up in what seemed to be dramatic irritation; the other, ravenette man looking all too fed up at his side. You assumed that the former had been the one complaining, considering the stark contrast in how comfortable the other looked compared to him. Suguru, that was his name. At least, that was what the man-child had said (or rather: howled). Suguru was somewhat a regular here, though you hadn’t caught his name until then. You didn’t recognize his companion. Something about him felt familiar, but you couldn’t put your finger on exactly what that was.

It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that your first impression wasn’t positive. Your thoughts of him changed, but not so much for the better, upon meeting his eye. Something in him seemed to shift then. His eyes lit up as they did a once over on you, posture straightening and a crooked grin tugging at his lips.

“Hush, Satoru. You dragged me into like, four different dessert stores today. You’ll survive five minutes of being surrounded by literature,” the other boy, Suguru, grumbled. Satoru Gojo?.. Oh, you got it now. They went to school with you, that’s why they seemed familiar before. You hadn’t recognized them at first glance because while you were only in your first year of university, they’d been in their second. But you knew that name, everyone did. He was rather known around campus, though not for bad reasons, not exactly ones you’d consider great either. You knew little of the blue eyed man, only a few (three, to be exact) traits burrowing into the depths of your mind. 1. Prodigy 2. Charming (disgusting so) 3. Cocky asshole.

So when he was silent for a beat too long, eyes only flickering back to his friend when he turned to him, you knew he was trouble.

That sly smile still residing on his lips, he nodded at Suguru. “Well…” he said. “I guess I’ll let it slide for now.”

Geto glanced at him, then to you, unimpressed. With a small nod, a polite greeting to you, he rolled his eyes. As he grabbed Gojo by the material of his expensive looking jacket, he grumbled.

“Just look at the damn books.”

Situating yourself behind the cash register, you let out a sigh. It was only you on the shift at the moment, your tiny little establishment usually lacking the amount of customers to require more. You tried to make yourself look less bored than you were, mindlessly tapping your fingers against the leather cover of a novel sitting near the cash register. Courtesy of your boss, going on your phone whilst customers were around was strictly forbidden. You were sure that the college kids were too exhausted to care, nor would they anyway, but rules were rules. You could keep yourself busy, the little voice in your head was enough.

You’d only barely begun to let your mind wander when the soft clunk of elbows meeting the structure you leaned on met your ears. You looked up to see Satoru Gojo staring down at you, winter blue eyes sparkling with a determined curiosity.

“Hey there,” he said, snowy hair shifting as he tilted his head. He was leaned forward lazily, as if preparing for a conversation that was yet to happen. You quirked a brow, feeling the effortless charisma roll off of him in waves. You didn’t allow yourself to be tricked, though, you refused to be like the rest of his little fans fawning and kissing his shoes. Five minutes in and you’d already decided you disliked him, and all he’d said was a greeting. You tried not to judge a book by its cover, but inside you was a need to stick out that overran the compassion.

Your reply was short, a simple “Hi,” all that you felt was necessary. It wasn’t like you really knew the guy at all, you owed him nothing but the service given to every customer that had ever stepped into your humble little shop.

His grin seemed to falter for a split second, b it was quickly plastered back onto that face of his. How long had he been smirking like that? It seemed more habit than amusement at this point.

“Do I know you?” he asked.

You let out a hum under your breath, shrugging. “I don’t think so. Do you?”

His eyes narrowed, and for a moment, you were sure he could see right through you. Every bone in your body felt all too exposed to his prying eyes, every concealed bit of you shining through the cracks. But then he smiled, and everything else washed away. “You’re in uni, aren’t you?”

In return to your soft, approving nod, he clicked his tongue as if proud of himself. “Ah, that’s where. I knew I wouldn’t forget a face like yours.”

You were about to ask him to elaborate when a deeper, more annoyed voice cut through. “I leave you alone for five seconds and you’re already trying to charm the employee?” He rolled his eyes, looking between you and Satoru with a quirked brow. Gojo stood up a little straighter, a dorky, sideways grin adorning his face.

“Little ol’ me? Never.”

Amusement hinted at Geto’s face, but he was good at hiding it. He took up the empty space between Gojo and the counter, placing two books down before you. As you gently picked them up and scanned, the soft red glow accompanied by a soft beep echoing through the room, he watched.

“Nice to see you. How’ve you been?” you asked the black haired man standing across the counter, eyes kept on your nimble hands as they bagged up the paperbacks he’d been purchasing. He responded with a polite smile and a nod, radiating an air of nonchalance, far in contrast to the radiant man beside him.

“Likewise. I’ve been well, you?”

You opened your mouth to speak but were swiftly interrupted, Gojo’s mouth agape as he spoke. “Hold on hold on,” he said, picking his jaw off of the floor. Dramatic much? “You didn’t tell me you knew the cashier.”

“Maybe because you whine every time I even utter the word ‘book’,” Suguru rolled his eyes.

“I am the most intellectual person to ever roam the earth, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Watching them go back and forth, you had to suppress a laugh. They argued in a way that radiated ‘I’ve been dealing with him for years too many’, or something of the sort. You chose to ignore Satoru’s dramatic yearning for your attention, handing Suguru his books and bidding them farewell.

Freedom.

Or… for the next two days, at least.

The bell over the door chimed, quick and soft above the door. It only took a quick glance, a split second for you to recognize who exactly that was. His porcelain hair stuck out against the rustic wood bookshelves like a sore thumb, his bright eyes already shining the moment they met yours.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he grinned.

“…I work here?”

He rolled his eyes, brushing off your dismissal of his attempt at being sly. He took the few short strides from the door to the checkout, and the two of you found yourself exactly where you’d been a few days prior. Except this time there was no Suguru to interrupt (aka save you), and he was all the more annoying.

You let out a breath, already anticipating his behaviour. “I don’t take you for much of a reader.” He shrugged in response, a dorky, grossly pretty grin crossing his face.

“Paying that much attention to me?”

“Your whining is pretty hard to ignore.”

“Ouch,” he placed a hand over his heart, feigning hurt. His brows furrowed, a crease deepening between them. If you didn’t know exactly what type of man he was, you might’ve genuinely thought he looked like a kicked puppy. He strode over to you, his long legs stretching over the distance with ease. He was tall, very. Not that it mattered. You didn’t care. You didn’t even bother to notice his long limbs, the way his biceps flexed beneath his long sleeve as he reached down, grabbing a book sitting between you. It wasn’t like your eyes lingered for a moment too long, it wasn’t like you suddenly felt oddly uncomfortable being so close to him. The counter separated you, but it did little to keep the distance. The small width of it was to thank for that, you made a mental note to get a stool or something—anything that was a rightful excuse to scoot away.

He placed the novel down. “So, what’s your name?” he asked. He radiated confidence, like he didn’t mind pushing into your space. The only indication that he knew if your disinterest was the way his eyes flickered over your face, all too observant to miss the way it contorted.

“You gonna buy something?” you moved past his question, making a point to glance down at the disregarded item, now placed gently upon a stack of a few others.

He sniggered. “Yeah, but tell me your name.” He didn’t break eye contact with you as he slid it over the counter, the cover making a rough noise with the friction of the wood.

You gave no response, the only noise in the place being the scanning of his book (which you were sure he hadn’t even read the title of) and the dull sound of the constant chatter along the streets. It seeped in through the cracked windows, like a buzzing hive of bees.

“1700 yen,” you said. Your voice held a sort of boredom, but you didn’t care to actually be rude. You just weren’t going to be pinky pie from my little pony whenever you saw the man, and he surely couldn’t blame you for that.

That stupid damn grin never faltered under the weight of your gaze. He tapped his card against the machine like it was second nature, took the bag from you smoothly, hand brushing against yours. “I’ll be back,” he said. And he fully intended to keep that promise.

⋆

“No name, long time no see!”

You suppressed a groan, the all too energetic voice cutting through the quiet of the store like a knife. By the first word, you’d have known who it was. This guy never gave up, did he? And for the record, it had not been a long time since you last saw him. A day and a half, 34 hours to be exact. Though it wasn’t like you were counting or anything, in fact, you dreaded the moment he’d walk through those doors.

He made it his mission to visit you daily. Every day he’d buy a book you were certain would do nothing but collect dust on his shelf, seemingly never going over his budget. That only pissed you off further. How much money did he have to blow it all just to see you? You hated how endearing it was. You hated him.

“‘Afternoon, Gojo,” you sighed, emerging from the depths of the shelves and into the light. It was a sunny day, at least, compared to the rest of the dull winter grey that had found home in the heart of Tokyo.

“You know, I’m starting to get the impression that you don’t like me,” he said.

You attempted to look surprised, though the both of you knew very well that you weren’t. “Wow, what would ever make you think that?”

“You won’t even tell me your name? Am I really that bad?” he huffed, tossing his head back in an exaggerated show of frustration.

“You want the honest answer?”

“Hush.”

He straightened his neck, now craning it slightly down to gaze at you. He was a little ways away, but he might as well have been one with you with the way his eyes bored into you. It was intense in an anticipating way, if that made sense.

“Go out with me.”

You blinked, a little dumbfounded for a moment before gathering the bits and pieces of your brain that had just been scattered across the country. Be logical. Obviously he was kidding, obviously he didn’t mean it. I mean, he barely knew you. He didn’t even know your name, and it was your coldness to thank for that. Surely he wouldn’t want you, not genuinely at least. “You’re ridiculous,” you rolled your eyes.

“Aw, come on!” he whined, and you could’ve sworn you saw a hint of real disappointment behind those cerulean orbs of his.

You suppressed a grin. Maybe his pestering had some perks, maybe it was even entertaining. That wasn’t to say you appreciated the mockery of him “asking you out,” but you figured it was funny as long as you didn’t allow yourself to be deceived. “You making a purchase or not?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, lazily snatching a book from the rack nearest to him. He didn’t even look at the cover. “This one.”

It was pride and prejudice.

⋆

Your first time seeing Satoru outside of your workplace other than fleeting glances around campus, you were drinking coffee. You were sat on a barstool, chunky sweater loosely slung over your body as you tried to manage both typing an essay and sipping your drink. You were stuck on the first sentence, the text cursor staring impatiently up at you as you begged your mind to conjure something up.

‘If I could change one thing about my past, I would change…’

And that was it. That was all you could think of, the unfinished phrase being the farthest you could dive into the depths of your conscious. You didn’t know. It felt as though you had no answer, and yet a million all at once. You let out an annoyed groan, shoving your face into your hands. The frustration was a good enough distraction, considering you failed to notice the figure sliding into the seat next to you.

“Lookin’ a little stressed, mystery girl. You okay?” he teased, though there was more to it. An underlying softness, what you might even say is genuine concern.

You wanted to quip back, to keep up that consistently annoyed facade you’d managed to keep for the past few weeks. But everything was so overwhelming, you were running on a few hours of sleep, and you felt like your brain would implode if you tried to pack another thought in there. So instead of groaning or shooing him away, you peeked out over your hands and replied softly. “No.”

His playful grin twitched, threatening to disappear. The moment you opened your mouth and instead of an insult he was met with something near vulnerability. “…what’s up?”

“Stuff,” you replied curtly, before softening. “Right now I just… I don’t know what to do for this stupid assignment.”

“Hm,” he said, a crease forming between his brows. “What’s the question?”

You gently nudged your laptop, rotating it on the countertop so that he could real the half-sentence you’d left off at. He stared at it for a moment, eyes flickering back to you. “What, you don’t have anything you regret?”

Your voice was soft and smooth like butter, but it held a sort of shake, almost fearful. “Quite the opposite.”

A beat of silence passed, understanding swirling through the air as well as the bits and pieces of the layer that he felt he’d broken through. Whether you liked it or not, he knew you. Maybe not your name, but you. He’d promised himself that he would, and he was a man of his word when it mattered.

“How would you answer?” you asked, growing shifty from how exposed you felt.

He paused, contemplating whether to tell you the truth or not. He bit his cheek, eyes unfocused. “I think I would want to be born someone else.”

That shocked you more than anything else. He was Satoru Gojo, smart and charismatic and confident. He was the last person you’d expect to wish he were another. Everyone else wished they were him, so why did he long for the opposite? But every bit of wit was a layer encasing the deeper parts, the ones that hurt to look at. You knew that all too well.

Conversation flowed much better after that, and it was the first time you had allowed yourself to indulge in his presence as much as you wanted to. He was… nice. Nice to talk to, a nice person, generally. You got to see another side of him, not just the silly man who spent disgusting amounts of money to see you and kept begging you to go out with him—which you still thought was derisive. He was just Satoru, laughing and smiling and helping you figure things out in the midst of what seemed to be dark clouds surrounding you. He was the light.

You were just about to part ways, the sun setting over the horizon and casting a warm glow in its wake. You reached out, taking him by the elbow to get his attention. “Y/n,” you said. “My name is y/n.”

You swore his grin couldn’t have gotten any wider. “Nice to meet you y/n, I’m Satoru Gojo.”

⋆

Gojo surrounded you nearly as much as the sky did from then on. It seemed that was the way things were for the next… what was it, month? 30 days, 30 visits from Gojo, save for the occasional day of absence. Unfortunately, you’d caught yourself warming up to him. You longed to deny it, to believe yourself when you did. You just couldn’t. He started popping up everywhere; along the streets as you walked from one class to another, “just passing by” your class (which you still wondered how he knew), he was everywhere. Usually you managed to duck out before he could embarrass you, taking full advantage of knowing your name and choosing to shout it at every possible opportunity.

This was one of those times.

“Y/n!” he shouted, momentarily turning away from his two best friends to get your attention.

You gave him a sidelong glance before looking away, avoiding him in a dramatic, almost cartoonish manner. Before you knew it, he was by your side. He had a way of making sure you couldn’t avoid him even if you wanted to.

“Am I gonna see you tonight?” he asked.

You shrugged. “Considering I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m going to say no.”

“Come on,” he drawled with a pout, tilting his head to the side. “Party. That big fancy house down the street. You should come.”

“Uh… no.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Just once? For me?”

You hesitated with your next attempt to shut him down, and that was when he knew he’d gotten you. He’d won, yet again. With a wolfish smirk as he retreated, he called back, “I’ll see you there!”

You grumbled under your breath about how you didn’t know why you agreed to these things, and how annoying he was. Deep down, you knew it was all lies. You were sure you’d go anywhere if he asked nicely enough, maybe even the ends of the universe. You just weren’t ready for that conversation, not yet. He was a shining star, proud and bright, and you were nothing but an emotionally stunted mortal basking in his beauty. Him and his disgustingly beautiful eyes, the way people did a double take every time he passed them. He was everything, and he’d only recently learned your name.

That very same night you found yourself feeling utterly ridiculous as you walked up to the front door, wondering whether you should knock or not. It took another group of people walking straight in to give you that answer, pushing through the door and immediately being hit in the face with the sweaty heat of the party. Why were you even doing this for him? Last month, if given the same pleads as you had earlier that day you would’ve shot him down without a second thought. Why did that change? Why had you fallen for his tricks, just as you promised yourself you wouldn’t?

“Y/nnnn,” slurred an all too familiar voice from behind you. You turned to see Satoru Gojo stumbling out from the kitchen, a red solo cup in hand. Some of it sloshed out as he approached you, the liquid falling on the floor and looking like something radioactive.

“Gojo,” you said, instinctively placing a hand under his arm as he almost fell over you. “I see you’ve gotten started.”

His lower lip was pushed out into a pout, his eyes heavy and lazy as they looked you over. “I don’t… usually drink,” he swallowed thickly, eyes landing on yours once again. “But you were taking too long… I had to pass the time,” he explained, the corner of his mouth quirked up. You rolled your eyes, letting go of him with an unimpressed glance. He wished you hadn’t, he liked the way your hand felt on him. He wasn’t entirely sure if it was the alcohol or just how much he yearned for your touch, but it was unlike anything he had ever felt before. You made him feel those things rather often, it seemed you were a capsule of new emotions. Ones he hadn’t opened up to prior, ones he wasn’t sure were meant for him. Honestly, he didn’t know what was meant for him, but as he looked at you in the dim yellow lights of the frat party he had a pretty good idea. It was muggy and gross and sweat was already starting to create a soft sheen over your hairline, but to him you’d never looked more beautiful. Because you were here for him, you’d come for him and that was enough.

You glanced around the party, the one you hadn’t wanted to attend in the first place (which definitely had not changed upon arrival), and then at your disgustingly drunk, lightweight loser of a man standing next to you. Your friend? Maybe.

“Did you come with friends?” you asked, but the answer was fairly obvious. Satoru Gojo was rarely found without the people he loved… but now he was with you. Was that a switch up on his end, or was it sticking to his pattern? You couldn’t tell, and that wasn’t something you wanted to work out.

“Mm…” he hummed, as if he’d forgotten. “Yeah, but I don’ wanna be with them… wanna see you…”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart sped up embarrassingly and the face only grew warmer. His friends were nowhere to be found, and you may have seemed like you lacked an ounce of compassion to anyone else, but you couldn’t leave him.

With a sigh and eyes that avoided his all too much, you took him by the hand and led him towards the door. He was all too pleased, barely even bothered asking where you were going. “Let’s get you out of here, yeah? You’ve done enough partying.”

He offered a protesting whine in return, but didn’t dare to pull his hand from yours or even let his steps falter. Well, not voluntarily. He wasn’t the most coordinated drunk.

“Mmh- yeah, there ya’ go.” You guided his arm around your shoulder, and though your hand had parted from his, he didn’t mind the replacement. The nights air was cool in comparison to the interior of the house, refreshing against your flushed skin. It was momentarily silent as you walked down the sidewalk, choosing to save the money you would’ve spent on an uber for the drive two blocks away.

“Y/n?”

You could fill up an entire pad of paper if you tallied every time he said your name. He couldn’t help himself, it tasted so sweet on his tongue.

You responded with a hum, not wasting too much air on what you assumed would be some form of delirious, intoxicated thoughts.

“Why don’t you like me?”

You stopped in your tracks, and you swore your head had never whipped around faster. “What?”

He let out a sigh as if it was a great inconvenience to explain. His arm was still wrapped around you loosely, though there wasn’t much purpose to it now that you’d stopped walking. He glanced at you, and you were met with a rare flicker of something akin to hurt in his eyes.

“I… why don’t you like me? I come ‘round your little shop ‘nd I buy books… I don’t read any of them… and… and I beg you to go out with me, to just look at me, and you don’t. Why?” His voice was surprisingly even for his state. “Somethin’ wrong with me?”

All you could do was stand there and blink for a moment. He’d meant it. All of it. No mockery, nothing. Honestly, in the moment, he couldn’t have phrased it any better? Made it sound like he really wanted you, without that teasing tone underlying his voice? “I… I didn’t think you were being serious, Gojo.”

At the formal name he glared, but he didn’t comment. “I don’t even go for other girls,” he mumbled. “Why would I ask you if I wasn’t?”

Even in his slurred, tipsy condition, he had a point. You had never seen him with a woman, save for Shoko and when the need came, like schoolwork or helping out or anything of the nature. The point was, he didn’t pursue others romantically. You knew this, he knew you knew this, so he didn’t understand why you felt as though he was deceiving you.

“You’re right.”

“So…?” he said, a little more cheeky now.

With a huff and a few begrudging steps forward, you responded. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll go out with you.”

⋆

Your laughter rang out over the half empty streets, loud and unguarded. You’d spent the day visiting various places; the arcade, lunch, sipping hot chocolate as you walked through the park. More than you’d dreamed of, honestly, and to think you’d rejected him so many times. It felt as if your vision had been freed of the foggy lenses you’d been looking at him through before, seeing him for the kind (although a little cocky) man he was. The man he’d been trying to prove was there all this time.

“And then-“ you were cut off, the feeling of a small, wet droplet landing on your face pulling you from the conversation. You brought a finger up, wiping it and examining it for a second, long enough to come to the conclusion that it was raining. You looked upwards, as did he. The clouds were dark and gray, swirling with the threat of thunder and downpour. Your reactions were completely different, to say the least. While your eyes twinkled with awe and subtle anticipation, his nose crinkled in disdain. For once you were the bright eyed one, and he was just as gloomy as the sky above.

“It’s raining!”

“…it’s raining.”

You looked down from the somber atmosphere, met with the picture of his annoyance. “You don’t like the rain?”

He shook his head, meeting your eye. You almost gasped, but the singular nonchalant bone in your body made you refrain. “But it’s the best weather!”

“It’s dark and gloomy and wet,” he said, looking at you like you had spoken another language. He was utterly dumbfounded by your simple opinion.

More raindrops began to fall, decorating the concrete with dark, tiny spots. It was only then that you realized nearly everyone head cleared, leaving only the two of you and a few others as well as the passing vehicles. You smiled, wider than he’d ever seen you smile before. Your head was thrown back as you backed away from him, your arms outstretched at your side as you took in every bit of the rain. “Come on!” you said, a short laugh leaving your lips. Your eyes were closed now, but he was sure they’d be crinkling if they were open. “You can’t tell me this isn’t beautiful.”

“Hmm, yeah… I guess you’re right,” he agreed, but he wasn’t looking at the rain.

Satoru hated the rain, but he figured than the dampness of his bones and the way his vision blurred was all just fine as long as he could make out your foggy figure in the midst of it. Though his body hated the storms, his soul was unaffected, and all it did was long for you. So when your own spirit basked so happily in the wet weather, he couldn’t help but be content.

⋆

Satoru Gojo was a good boyfriend. Had you dared to tell yourself from a few months in the past, she would laugh in your face and send you away. But you were you now, and you knew all too well how good of a man yours was.

He opened doors for you, he cracked cheesy jokes when he knew you needed a laugh (they were so unfunny that you couldn’t even help it, he knew that), he gave you jackets when you were cold and he loved to guess your flavour of lipgloss before dropping you off at class every morning. He opened jars for you and braided your hair on tense, quiet nights when you didn’t have any words left to speak. He loved you more than someone who’s only known you for a handful months should, but you were not planning on complaining about that part. Some may say it was the honeymoon phase, some would argue it was love at first sight. You couldn’t be sure. All you knew was that you were happy, and that couldn’t be changed.

You felt a certain surge of bliss flow through you the moment you woke up, not because it was a particularly great day, but because of the first thing you were blessed with the sight of. Satoru was curled up in your bed, mouth agape as he slept on your chest. His white hair was fuzzy and strewn in gentle spikes surrounding his head, a hint of drool collecting at the corners of his lips. He looked so stupid, yet so absolutely peaceful that you were convinced he was beauty in its highest form. Screw whatever Greek mythology said, nothing blessed the eyes as greatly as the face of Satoru at ease.

A low grumble fell from his lips, though neither of you knew what words they were. His pale lashes blinked open, bleary eyes meeting yours. “Hey there,” he cheesed, mouth already forming into that cocky smirk. You hated it, hated the way you felt like every other one of his crazy fangirls every time he flashed it at you. Except it was just you, only for you.

“Morning, Satoru.”

He snuggled further into your chest, the fabric of your (his?) shirt crinkling beneath his nose as it nudged it. “Dream of me?”

You rolled your eyes, gently flicking him in the side of his head. His head shot up, looking cartoonishly offended. “That’s not nice!”

You grinned. “I’m not nice.”

He moved his face closer to yours, your features level as he looked into your eyes. “But you’re supposed to be nice to me,” he said, though no real emotion lied in the sentence. His were eyes flitting down to your lips, looking almost like some sort of deer in headlights. His head dipped down, just millimetres from you. He barely thought as he pressed his own to yours, lips meeting in a soft, sleepy way.

You parted for breath, a soft “satoruuuu,” tumbling from you before he was shutting you up with another kiss.

“Shh, I didn’t spend weeks begging for you to like me for you to not let me kiss you. Boyfriend privilege,” he tutted against your lips, and any protest you’d begun to shoot back was swallowed by him once again. You sassed, but he felt the way your hands tightened in his hair and your throat bobbed every time his teeth ran over your bottom lip. You loved him, and you hated it. It only made him like it all the much more.

⋆

The day was sunny, beating down on heaps of smiling faces as they took in all its warmth. The sky was clear and blue, you’d made a comment about how it looked similar to his eyes. He liked that, but he hoped you liked looking into his eyes better. The streets were busy, the sound of overlapping conversations and gas engines almost overwhelming. The only thing that grounded you was your hand wrapped around his bicep, his gentle guide through the crowd bringing you back to earth. You liked to act so big and tough, but there were moments like these where you were reminded that you were human too. Sometimes, you needed him. Needed your toru. You smiled bashfully when you came to the realization, to which he only smirked. It was as if he could read your mind, as if you were so in sync that he didn’t need to hear you voice it to know what you were thinking about.

But Satoru didn’t remember any of that. No, not clearly, at least. Looking back felt like trying to watch a video on a scratched disk, like there had been an old cameras lens’s blocking his vision.

All he remembered was screeching wheels and the sound of you being nudged just a little too close to the road, the way you tripped and fell seeming to be in slow motion. He remembered blood, too. A lot of it. It was yours. There were people screaming and the person behind the wheel crying, but by then it had all been tuned out by his ringing ears. He suddenly felt dizzy, all too dizzy. He’d zeroed in on your crumpled figure, hadn’t even noticed himself falling until his knees thudded against the rough road. His hands reached out to you, he was shaking. He nudged you once. A second time. No response.

“Y/n?” he asked weakly, as if a whisper only to you, avoiding the hundreds of eyes crowing around. He could hear distant police sirens, flashing lights bleeding in the corners of his vision. No. No. No no no no no. He could only think of one word then, the stubborn denial that this wasn’t happening. He was dreaming, he would wake up cuddled next to you and you’d wipe his tears, remind him that you weren’t going anywhere. But it wasn’t, the blood that stained his hands as he reached out to you was warm and wet and crimson, equally as real as the love you shared had been. The tears collecting in his eyes were real, too. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t even think, he could barely cry.

He cradled you, and he felt no pulse as he placed his fingers on your neck. Your hair was stained ruby, leaving a trail of haunting colour in its wake as it dragged along his finger. You were being pulled from him, he tried to resist, but his arms felt weak and his mind numb. This couldn’t possibly be happening. You couldn’t go so soon, not when you had so many regrets, not when you’d finally gotten over it all and loved and lived with him. He needed more time, he needed to show you that everything was okay. But now he couldn’t, and he was left sitting on the side of the road as what used to be you was driven away. He lost you twice that day.

Once the road was empty and he was left with nothing but your looming absence, it started raining. Your favourite weather. Usually he’d be delighted, he’d bring you outside by the hand and watch as your heart was filled by every drop of water. Not this time. Now every bit of the liquid was wasted on a soul that could no longer be filled, what would only ever be a leaking shell of a man who loved foolishly. While the rain was what healed you, you were what healed him. Without you he was left a wounded man without aid, filled with cracks and chips that would reside with him forever. It was his fault. His fault for bringing you, his fault for loving you at all. After all, there was no curse more twisted than love.

Satoru Gojo hated the rain. Now and forever.

⋆

He wished you lived to see how much you mattered. He knew you tended to doubt it, didn’t value yourself nearly as much as you should have.

The bookstore you worked at closed not long after your passing. The only other worker there was a good friend of yours, she quit. She couldn’t handle your loss. Nobody could. Every time Gojo passed the empty building he was reminded of you, the old store just as lifeless as your body had been in that casket. You lingered everywhere, in every old book and cup of coffee and stupid philosophical question his professor would ask. You lingered in the sheets of his that you once slept in, your legs tangled with his as you laughed in the piercing bright of the morning. The clothes you’d scattered around his room untouched since the day you died, moving them felt like erasing you. Even washing his sheets was hard. He got a whiff of your perfume in one of his hoodies and he just broke, started ugly sobbing on the floor of his bedroom right then and there. Tears soaked the sweater, and he couldn’t help but notice that they looked like raindrops. Your favourite type of day was the one most similar to the picture of his despair, the way he curled into a ball and wailed to himself as he mourned your death. He figured that wasn’t too much of a surprise. You’d always appreciated the gloomier things, after all.

Sometimes he’d convince himself you were still there. He’d tell himself that you were right beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder and your voice ringing out in what was undoubtedly a sassy quip, but every time he turned to search for you he was met with nothing but a gaping emptiness, the hollow walls you haunted. You were no longer, you wouldn’t come back. You never would. He didn’t even get you tell you he loved you once more, kiss the soft, untouched expanse of your skin, remind you that you were delicate and precious and all his. Every day, the hatred inside of him grew and swallowed every bit of who he used to be. The man you loved was gone, his vessel unrecognizable. Satoru died that day too, but nobody mourned him because he wasn’t the one bleeding.

He sat on the roof of your bookshop, gazing out over the skyline. Buildings stuck up, jagged and irregular as they made tough lines over the horizon. You would’ve liked this view, but you simply hadn’t thought of coming up here before. Only he had, and by then it was far too late.

He looked down at his hand, bottom lip pulled between his teeth. It shouldn’t have been you. It should have been him. Maybe then he’d be reincarnated and born as someone else, hopefully reunited with you in the next lifetime. He had a feeling you would, your souls seemed to dance around each other in that sort of rhythm. But no, it had to be you. Did his suffering ever end? Tears fell and wet his skin, but suddenly, there were too many. Too many, too far.

He looked up, and he didn’t know if it was a cruel reminder or a gift sent by you, but it was raining.

He couldn’t bring himself to get up and go home that time. He embraced it, lying on the ground and imagining that if he closed his eyes tight enough, he’d open them and be able to see you again. When his eyelids parted, he was met with gloomy clouds and dim skies. In the midst of the darkness, he caught a glimpse of what he swore to be your silhouette. You were sly, even in the afterlife.

That day he didn’t lay in the rain; Satoru Gojo would never be caught dead doing that. He lied beneath you, raindrops that soaked into every part of him and sent chills up his spine. He knew you wanted him to. You didn’t come back as a sunset, you didn’t paint the skies with pink and orange. You were a chilly, rainy day that reminded him of your hands in his and your wide smile as you willingly gave yourself a cold, because with the sickness came a moment of joy. There was more truth to that than let on. Yes, now he grieved and lied in a puddle of tears and rainwater, but not long ago he’d been with you. He’d held you and felt the warmth of you on his fingertips, heard your voice ring through his ears, been granted the bliss that was your lips on his. He’d gotten the greatest joy of all, and he knew that if he died in this moment his only regret would be not embracing it more than he had, if that was even possible. He’d loved you, he’d felt your love. He’d been blessed with the softness of your gaze and the twinkle in your smile, seen the soft parts of you that would forever remain a secret between him and the rain. The knowledge of that, the feeling of bits of your soul returning with every rumbling thunder crash and strike of lightning was enough for him to know that you hadn’t died. You never would, because you loved, and nothing that loves ever truly dies. You would live on through him and everyone else you came by, his family for years to come would hear the story of a stubborn girl who healed someone she hated without even knowing it. Even after you were long gone, you healed him, one dollop of water at a time.

For years after that, though begrudgingly, Satoru was never inside during a storm. His opinion of rain hadn’t altered in the slightest, no. Satoru still hated the rain, but he loved you far more.

tags: @anotherwriternamedclara @adoresia @sh0ot1ngst4r @azinniyaa @kashee-h @ruruisru @lizbix

note — why does he never catch a break omds… but on a real note I hate this real bad but wtvvvvvv I promised something and I’m a girl of my word. I don’t know how to write death I fear… and also the ending wasn’t even decided until very late into the story so it might’ve been a little sudden idkkkkkkuhhhhb

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #gojo x you #gojo fluff #gojo angst #collection of sprouts

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httpsdana · 9 months ago

Note

hey!

love your work! i was wondering if you could do one about pau cubarsi and they get a pet and she pays all her attention to the pet and pau gets jealous or smthg?

thank you sm 💕

Puppy Love~Pau Cubarsi

・❥・prompt list

・❥・masterlist -> part 2

・❥・who I write for

From the moment y/n and Pau brought home their new puppy, Mochi, it was pure love. They'd both been so excited, planning out every little detail: his bed, his toys, the cutest little collar, and spending way too long debating whether “Mochi” or “Tofu” was the perfect name. Eventually, Mochi won out, and now here he was, a fluffy little ball of mischief that they both adored like their own child.

Pau was obsessed from the start. He would cradle Mochi in his arms, cooing, “Mi amor, look at him! He’s already the most handsome boy in the world. Right, Mochi? You’re perfect.”

She'd laugh at his cuteness, running her fingers through Mochi’s soft fur. “Wow, I think I have some competition now.”

Pau smirked, giving her a wink. “Sorry, cariño. Mochi and I? Unstoppable duo. He’s basically my mini-me.”

“Oh, so he’s already dramatic about mealtimes and leaving crumbs everywhere?” she teased with a smile

Pau gasped, clutching his chest. “Excuse me, I am not dramatic, and I clean up my crumbs… sometimes.”

The early days with Mochi were filled with laughter and cuddles, both of them cooing over every little thing he did. The two of them doted on him together, taking turns waking up in the middle of the night when he’d whimper or need to go outside, racing each other to see who could make it to Mochi first when he called for attention.

But soon, Pau’s schedule got a bit busier. He was away more for practices and games, and y/n found herself spending more and more time with Mochi. While Pau was out, she'd have little “puppy and me” dates, complete with treats, belly rubs, and mini photoshoots where she would send the funniest pictures to Pau, captioned with things like, Look at your competition or Mochi says he’s the new man of the house.

Pau would text back immediately. No way. Mochi can’t be half as charming as me. But then he’d send three heart emojis and demand more photos.

One evening, after a long day, Pau came home, eager for some quality time. He walked in to see y/n sprawled on the couch with Mochi stretched out across her chest, his tiny head resting comfortably as she scratched his belly.

Pau stopped in his tracks, crossing his arms and giving her both an exaggerated pout. “I’m gone for a few hours, and this is what I come back to?”

She looked up, stifling a laugh at the face he was making. “Jealous of Mochi, are we?”

He put a hand to his chest, looking utterly wounded. “Me? Jealous? Absolutely. This used to be my spot, you know,” he grumbled, nodding at the spot on her chest where Mochi was curled up. “I used to get those head scratches, too.”

“Oh, bebé, come here,” she cooed, setting Mochi down gently before opening her arms. Pau took his chance, practically launching himself onto the couch to snuggle up to her.

“Finally,” he sighed dramatically, burying his face in her neck. “About time you give me some attention.” His tone was teasing, but he looked so adorable that she couldn’t help but laugh.

y/n wrapped her arms around him, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Aww, you poor thing. Mochi just missed you. I missed you, too,” she said, rubbing his back soothingly.

“Oh, good. Because I was about to start howling for attention myself,” he joked, causing her to burst out laughing.

“Maybe Mochi has been teaching you a thing or two,” she teased, ruffling Pau’s hair just like she did with Mochi.

Pau grinned, snuggling closer. “So, you’re saying I need to be more puppy-like? Alright then.” He scrunched up his face and gave a dramatic little whimper, making puppy eyes at her.

She playfully rolled her eyes, laughing as she stroked his hair. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“Ridiculously cute?” he asked with a hopeful grin, his eyes twinkling as he leaned in for a kiss.

“Alright, yes, ridiculously cute,” she admitted, kissing him softly.

Mochi, clearly curious about the attention shift, clambered back onto the couch, settling down between y/n and Pau, his little tail wagging as he looked up at the two of them.

Pau raised an eyebrow, looking at Mochi. “Oh no, you’re not stealing my girl again,” he warned playfully. “Go on, go chew a toy or something.”

But Mochi just flopped down, resting his little head on her lap, looking far too adorable to move.

Pau sighed, shaking his head. “Unbelievable. My own puppy is trying to sabotage me,” he said, though his face softened as he reached over to scratch Mochi’s ears. “Alright, fine, maybe we can share the lap.”

y/n laughed, leaning over to give Pau a kiss. “Face it, babe, we’re a package deal now. You, me, and Mochi.”

Pau’s face lit up as he kissed her back, pulling her closer. “As long as I get first dibs on goodnight kisses. Deal?”

“Deal,” she agreed, grinning as she wrapped herself up in his embrace, Mochi happily snuggled between them.

From that day on, Pau made sure to reclaim his spot in the cutest ways— “accidentally” bumping Mochi aside to curl up in her lap or dramatically announcing his need for “emergency cuddles” whenever he saw her petting the puppy. The three of them settled into a perfectly fluffy routine, filled with laughter, and many sweet moments.

In the end, they both knew they’d created a little family, with enough love to go around—Mochi included, of course.

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cheapshrimpysheep · 1 year ago

Note

For the request thing, might be dark but holing it's more angst/scary -> Fluff. NRC First years (or any boy you wanna write about) get a phone call from Fem!reader in the night, they think they hear someone breaking into Ramshackle and are scared, the boys' rush in to rescue/protect reader. (Up to you if there is actually someone breaking in or its just old house noises/Grim or ghosts rummaging around etc) thank you for your lovely work thus far!

COMMENTS: Hi! Thank you. 😊 First I just wanted to say that the way I wrote it doesn't make any difference if it's a Fem Reader, so I did it for a GN Reader like I always do. I also apologize that Ace and Deuce's parts are the shortest, it just happened. 😔

More recently I also have less time to write, which is why this one took so long to finish. But I hope you and all like it.❤️

BTW: I used Bard to help me with Epel's dialect. 😜

CHARACTERS: Freshmen (Ace Trappola; Deuce Spade; Jack Howl; Epel Felmier; Sebek Zigvolt)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader

WORD COUNT: An average of 490 words per character.

CONTEXT: You had stayed in the bedroom while Grim went downstairs to do something. Probably for a snack. But then you hear him shouting your name as if asking for help.

Knowing that without magic you could be in even more danger than Grim, you pick up your cell phone and call the first contact that appears.

“What's your deal calling so late, hum?” Ace says when he answers you. “It can be off with my head for this, you know?” You explain to him what happened. “Ah, so you called me to come and protect you, is that it?” he says smugly. “You're probably just exaggerating. Maybe Grim is asking for help because he realized he already ate all the-” he noticed that the call was suddenly cut. “Oi, Prefect?... (Y/N)?... (Y/N)?!”

Ace ran out of Heartslabyul without passing anyone who could stop him. Even though he knew he would have problems when he returned.

When he arrived at Ramshackle Dorm, he cautiously approached the door, trying to listen for something to know what state things were in and what situation you were in. But he can't hear anything.

Until you scream! He tries to open the door but it is locked. So he decides to break it in with magic, and runs to the lounge where you were.

“(Y/N)!” He runs to the lounge instinctively, automatically pointing his magic pen at whoever is there with you. Grim and the ghosts scream at being surprised by Ace and he realizes it's just you and them in the dorm.

“Wha- What is going on?!” He asks “You called me because you thought someone was breaking into the dorm. And I come running here to find out that nothing happened?”

You tell Ace that technically you never talked about someone breaking into the dorm, and that after all he was right and Grim was melodramatically asking for help because he had nothing to snack on.

“So what was that about the call hanging up while we were talking?” Your cell phone has run out of battery. “And the scream just now?” The ghosts had decided to take advantage of the situation to prank on you.

Ace was upset, probably as much as you were.

“Serious? All this rush for nothing. How am I going to explain this to the housewarden? I'm going to lose my head at this hour.” He looks at you with that sly smile. “You know, this is your fault. I came running here because you hinted that you were in danger. I think I deserve compensation. What if you let me sleep here tonight?

“If you get in charge of fixing the door that you just broke into.” Grim says.

“I did it because I thought it was an emergency!”

“Oh yeah? We can always settle this in Heartslabyul's court.”

“Fine, fine, I'll fix the door.” He looks at you “Can I sleep here tonight then?”

“Hi (Y/N). It's really late for you to be calling, is something wrong?” You explain to Deuce what happened. “Don't leave your room! Stay safe there, I'm on my way!” He hangs up the call and runs out of Heartslabyul without passing anyone who could stop him. He doesn't think twice because you wouldn't be the type to play a prank like that on him. Right?

When Deuce arrives at Ramshackle, he calls your cell phone. But you don't answer. Which worries him even more. He runs to the front door and tries to open it. Obviously it was locked. So he breaks it open with a mix of brute force and magic... or maybe a cauldron.

“(Y/N)! GRIM!” He calls.

“DEUCE?!” He hears the incredulous voice of you and Grim in unison. They were coming from the lounge, so he runs there. To find you, Grim and the ghosts safe and sound.

“Are you guys okay? What happened?”

You explain to him that after all, Grim was just melodramatically asking for help because he had nothing to snack on.

“Oh... That's a relief, I think. But why didn't you answer me then? I called you before I came in.” Your cell phone had run out of battery. He sighs and smiles at you. “Well, I'm glad it was just a misunderstanding and that you're okay.” All of his priorities at that moment were knowing that you were safe, so much so that it didn't even occur to him to ask any more questions.

You hear the door that Deuce had just broken down creaking in the wind. “I am so sorry!” he says “I can fix the door, don't worry.”

But the wind starts to get stronger, and thinking about the problems he will have when he returns, you invite him to sleep in Ramshackle Dorm that night.

“Are you sure?” He asks, as if he also said he didn't want to bother. It's the least you can do for him. And you will talk to Riddle to explain what happened and stop him from cutting off Deuce's head.

“Thank you so much (Y/N).” He smiles at you. “I promise I'll fix the door tomorrow.”

“Hello (Y/N). Is something wrong?” Jack knew that for you to be calling at that time there was little chance of it being for a simple conversation. You explain to him what happened. “Did you hear any other strange noises?” You say there was absolutely nothing else, which also worries you. And at that moment you start to hear the wood on the floor creak as if someone was climbing the stairs. “Stay safe in your room! I’m on my way!”

The thing is that when you called him, he was already getting ready for bed. So he quickly changed his clothes with the help of magic and ran out of Savanaclaw right to Ramshackle Dorm. Making sure not to wake up any of the Savanaclaw students who might already be asleep, especially Leona.

When he arrives, he uses his signature spell to transform into a wolf and sniff the outside of the dorm to try to notice if there was any different smell, from someone other than you and Grim perhaps. But he doesn't notice anything strange in the air. Which meant that either there was nothing strange going on or whoever showed up was really good at hiding their tracks.

He approaches the front door and tries to listen inside. And that's when he hears you scream. He wastes no more time, breaks down the door in his wolf form and follows the trail of your scent to you. Upstairs. In your bedroom.

As soon as a huge white wolf appears at the door of your bedroom, Grim and the ghosts are the ones who scream this time. No one else was there with you. Jack returns to his beastman form.

“What happened? Did someone break into the dorm? Have they already run away?” He still had his defensive and ready to attack posture.

You apologize to him and explain that Grim's cry for help was nothing more than him being melodramatic when he discovered he was out of snacks.

“So who was coming up the stairs when you called me?”

After Grimm screams, the ghosts appear and they thought it was an excellent opportunity to scare you. They had just jump-scared you before Jack showed up. Up until then they had been making strange noises to build the suspense.

“And did you find that funny?!” Jack shouts at them. “This could have been an emergency! You shouldn't joke about something like that!” He starts to calm down as the ghosts apologize and Grim says it wasn't out of spite. And he remembers one thing. He puts his hand on the back of his neck and rubs it. “Oh, um... I... I ended up breaking down your door to get in. I'm sorry. I'll fix it.”

After all that and at a time like that, you invite Jack to sleep in Ramshackle Dorm. It's the least you can do for getting him into all that mess.

“Well, that would be very helpful. Especially because I don't want to risk waking up anyone in my dorm when I get back. But... are you sure?” You could see his tail starting to wag a little.

“Good evening (Y/N).” Epel greets you “Is everything alright?” You explain to him what happened. “Hmm?! M-Maybe it's nothing serious. D-Do you have any way of knowing what happened safely? You know, without you being noticed if someone is there I mean?”

You say you'll try and Epel hears you walking and leaving the door of your bedroom but then he stops hearing anything.

“(Y/N)? Can you hear me?... (Y/N)?!” He looks at his cell phone and sees that the call has disconnected. “Land sakes alive, what have I done now? I gotta get on over there right this minute!” AKA: "AH! What have I done? I have to go there! NOW!"

He changes his clothes as quickly as possible with the help of magic and runs out of Pomefiore. Praying that no one spots him and stops him. The part about someone stopping him didn't happen, now the part about being seen or noticed could be another story.

When he arrives at Ramshackle Dorm he tries to call you again, but it seems like your cell phone is turned off. He prepares his magic pen and thinks about breaking the door with magic. But then he realizes that he can make your situation worse, since he doesn't know what's happening inside.

Until he hears you scream and then he forgets all his pacifist options and breaks down the door as his instinct was telling him to do.

“(Y/N)?!” he calls for you.

“EPEL?!” He hears your incredulous voice. It was coming from the lounge, so he runs there. To find you, Grim and the ghosts safe and sound.

"What in tarnation happened? Y'all alright?"

You explain to him that after all, Grim was just melodramatically asking for help because he had nothing to snack on.

“You're pulling my leg, ain't you? All this hullabaloo over a little snack?” You, Grim and the ghosts look at him confused. He clears his throat. “I mean, all this fuss for a late night snack?” He looks at Grim in annoyance. “Wait!” He looks at you. “What about your cell phone? The call dropped and I couldn't call you anymore.”

You explain that you ran out of battery on it.

“And your scream just now?”

The ghosts had decided to take advantage of the situation to prank on you. He looks at the ghosts with the same look of annoyance that he looked at Grim. Epel takes a deep breath and sighs. You all heard the wind making the now broken door creak.

“Ah! The door!” He realizes. “I’m so sorry. I break it to get in. I can fix it, I promise. I can make it as good as new. I can make it look like new. Since you'll probably need a new one anyway. I´m sorry... again.”

After all that, at a time like that, and thinking about the problems he will have when he returns, you invite Epel to sleep in Ramshackle Dorm. And you say that you will explain everything to Vil, especially the fact that Epel did that because he thought you were in danger.

“R-Really?! Um, but are you sure it's okay for me to sleep here tonight?”

“HUMAN!” Sebek shout at your ear. “What is your business calling me at an unacceptable hour like this?” You explain to him what happened. “Don't be ridiculous! I'm sure nothing serious could be happening.” You hear footsteps coming up the stairs and approaching your bedroom. You tell him this. “Are you saying those footsteps sound like a human and not Grim?” The call hangs up. “Human?... (Y/N)! I DEMAND THAT YOU ANSWER ME RIGHT NOW IF YOU ARE LISTENING TO ME!” But he doesn't hear anything else.

Under normal circumstances he would notify Lilia and ask for permission to leave Diasomnia at an hour like that. But he was also trained to act in emergencies and this was one of those times. He cannot waste any time and must leave immediately for Ramshackle Dorm.

Despite his temperament, he was trained to know how to act in these types of situations. He must first analyze what is happening and only then create a plan. Otherwise he takes the risk of making things even worse and in the worst case scenario, your life will end because of his irresponsibility. He approaches the door and listens. Things were calm, too calm. Until he hears you scream!

He immediately breaks down the door with just his strength and takes out his magic pen. He hears movement upstairs. In your room. He runs there and when he arrives, his warning shout gives a heart-stopping scare to everyone there with you. Which is just Grim and the ghosts.

“WHAT HAPPENED? I REQUEST A REPORT IMMEDIATELY!”

You explain to him that after all, Grim was just melodramatically asking for help because he had nothing to snack on. And then he and the ghosts decided to take advantage of the situation to play a trick on you.

“Was that why you screamed before I came in?” He asks. You confirm. “What about your cell phone? The call ended after you told me you heard someone coming up the stairs.” Your cell phone ran out of battery.

“HOW CAN YOU BE SO CARELESS? You should always have your greatest means of communication ready for an emergency!” He then looks at Grim. “AND YOU! You should redefine your priorities! Asking for help over a snack is unacceptable!” Before Grim can complain, he finally looks at the ghosts, but still referring to Grim as well. “And what you did, from what I know, humans call it a prank. I always found them unnecessary and ridiculous. And look how right I am! UNACCEPTABLE TO BE USED IN A SITUATION LIKE THIS!”

Grim starts arguing with Sebek until the ghosts say he's right. That was a mean joke at a bad time and they apologize to both you and Sebek. Which brings a smug to his face.

You hear a creak, the wind passing through the broken door.

“Do you see where your joke took you? You made me break down the door thinking it was a rescue.”

“You broke her because you wanted to!” Grim responds. “We didn't force you into anything!”

Sebek sighs, annoyed. “Very well, I'll find a way to fix the door. BUT MAY THIS BE THE LAST TIME YOU TRICK (Y/N) TO THE POINT OF CALLING ME TO COME HERE!”

After all that and at a time like that, you invite Sebek to sleep in Ramshackle Dorm.

“Don't worry.” He says “There will be no such need. Just as I came here, I can easily return without any problems.” But if you say that you feel bad about making him go to Ramshackle Dorm for nothing and that it is the least you can do for the inconvenience, he might reconsider. “Oh, I see. You're still scared, are you not? Very well, I can keep you company tonight.”

If you dropped in here out of the blue and want to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

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hivemuthur · 6 months ago

Text

What was that? - Ch. 15.

viktorxfemale!OFC explicit!

friends to lovers, co-workers, sexual tension up to the wazoo, pinning and banter that got me frustrated when I was writing it, attempt at humour, some angst and a slow burn with a happy ending and a classic Viktor for once

Ch.1. | Ch.2. | Ch.3. | Ch.4. | Ch.5. | Ch.6. | Ch.7. | Ch.8. | Ch.9. | Ch.10. | Ch.11. | Ch.12. | Ch.13. | Ch.14.

word count: 9,1K

tag: #what was that

author’s note: @rennethen as beta reader and co-author of nsfw and aftercare scenes. I won't say anything other than this is the second final chapter I am publishing this weekend and I feel oddly emotional.

Cross-posted on AO3

—

Renly was squeezing Jayce’s hand so hard he could feel his pulse, her pulse—but not his fingers. Taking the trolley to the Undercity was easy. Getting off it without drawing attention? Not so easy. Especially since Jayce kept stopping every few minutes to stare at some graffiti or a piece of artisan metalwork that had seen better days, exclaiming a quiet, “Wow!”

The streets were swarming with enforcers. So much so that Renly had already altered their route at least ten times and nearly got them lost. Twice, they had to duck into a random alleyway that led nowhere, forcing them to wait out a wave of roundups in the area. Once, they managed to sneak through the back of a gift shop. Zaun was very clearly under some sort of silent siege—many locations looked like they had been abandoned in a hurry—and the sight unsettled them both.

They were standing in front of a deserted tattoo parlour, calculating their next move, when Renly spotted an officer approaching them at a brisk pace. She immediately dropped her head, covered her face, and fumbled with the bag to make them look less suspicious—which, of course, had the opposite effect. Panic tightening her throat, she whisper-shouted, “Someone’s coming. I don’t know what to do—they’re coming from behind you, we have to… we have to do something, Jay—”

She didn’t get to finish before Jayce’s lips landed on hers. And they just… landed. He pressed himself against her in an awkward attempt to dissolve suspicion, mumbling an exaggerated, “Hmm, you taste so good, don’t be shy, girl,” as he walked them into the empty shop.

The officer paused by the door, peering through the crack. Jayce shot Renly a do something look, and in blind panic, she blurted out, “Oh yes, mister, you are so… big,” immediately cringing at herself.

They remained like that—clumsily pressed together, hands cupping each other’s faces, mouths making fake obscene sounds—until the officer gave up and moved on with a chuckle.

Jayce immediately jumped back and blurted an awkward, “Sorry, I had to… improvise.” He scratched the back of his neck, growing increasingly stressed by Renly’s stunned expression.

And then she laughed. So loud that Jayce had to shush her. “By the gods, Jayce—” she wheezed, wiping tears from her cheeks. “What a diversion. You taste so good, girl’” She mocked him mercilessly before bursting into another round of snorts and cackles.

Jayce let out a shuddery exhale before paying for mockery with mockery. “Mister, you are so big? What are you, eighty?” he howled, clutching his chest. Giggling and sniffling, he propped himself against the dusty counter and asked, “You’re going to tell Viktor about this, aren’t you?”

“Honestly, I might wait until he’s a bit better, because he could suffocate on his own cackle when he hears about it,” she barely choked through her laughter. “But seriously—very good diversion. You made me laugh for the first time today,” she said breathily, pressing a hand to her forehead.

Jayce spread his arms, grinning. "You can laugh, but it worked. Maybe this is how we should walk through the Undercity—pretending we’re a couple. It’d be easy to hide the bags between us."

Renly hummed, tilting her head. "You might be onto something." They could pass as a couple, definitely. And maybe seeing a girl walking hand in hand with a big mister would in fact, discourage the enforces from bothering them.

They fumbled with the bags, shoving them under their coats, pressed between them where they were barely visible. It took some awkward repositioning—Renly nearly dropped hers twice, and Jayce got an elbow to the ribs—but eventually, they managed to secure them. With a shared nod, they wrapped an arm around each other’s waists and stepped out onto the street.

Jayce exhaled dramatically. "And here I thought we’d never get to go out on a date."

Renly shot him a sideways glance, caught off guard. "You thought about us going on a date?"

Jayce shrugged, smiling like he hadn’t just casually dropped that into conversation. "Yeah. Briefly. Before Viktor called dibs on you."

Renly stopped in her tracks, staring at him. "Jayce Tallis, I will never—ever—believe that Viktor called dibs on anyone."

Jayce burst into laughter, rubbing the back of his neck. "Okay, maybe not exactly dibs, but I caught him saying that you were quite comely. And these are his words. It was kind of terrifying, so it burned into my memory."

Renly snorted. "Quite comely? Alright,” she relented, shaking her head. „That does sound like Viktor. And when was this?" Renly asked, trying to sound innocent and unbothered, but her voice quipped quite high at the end of the question.

Jayce made a show of calculating, tapping his chin. "Hmm… about three years ago, I think?"

Renly did her best to chase away the blush creeping into her cheeks at the thought of Viktor actually making that comment. He had done absolutely nothing about it all this time. So all those blushes were real. All those stolen glances were real. All the little flustered moments they shared—completely real. She hadn’t imagined any of it.

Finally, she chuckled, clasping a hand to her forehead to hide her embarrassment. "The resolve of this man will end me one day."

Jayce only smiled knowingly, the remark that her stubbornness would most likely end Viktor first hanging from the tip of his tongue. Instead, he just hugged her tighter and laughed.

They kept walking, the streets growing tighter, darker, more uncertain. The closer they got to the Lanes, the more enforcers loomed—clusters of them stationed at corners, patrolling in pairs, their presence thick and suffocating. Renly grew fidgety, shoulders tensing as her eyes darted across the alleys, tracking movement.

Jayce gave her side a reassuring squeeze, murmuring, "Almost there."

When they finally stepped through the door of The Last Drop, the air inside was eerily still. The place was nearly empty, save for Vander and a couple of men hunched over a quiet conversation. The second they entered, the talking ceased. Vander’s eyes flicked up, sharp and assessing.

"We’re closed," he barked.

Renly stepped further in, lowering her hood. "Vander, it’s me." She lifted the bag slightly. "I’ve brought something."

Vander shushed the group with a raise of his hand. He stood up, his eyes widening slightly before narrowing again at the sight of Jayce. He gave him a suspicious look before striding toward Renly. Placing his large hands on her shoulders, his voice dropped into something close to disbelief.

"You weren’t supposed to be here, darlin’."

She laughed sheepishly, pushing the bag into his chest. "Well, how long have you known me for? Sending me a note to tell me what not to do, Vander—" she tsked a few times, shaking her head.

"You’re just like my kids," he grumbled, taking the bag with one hand and pulling her into a one-armed hug with the other. His grip was firm but warm, the kind that said you are family. Then, his gaze slid back to Jayce, eyes raking over him in quick assessment. "I have to say, you do have a rather… eclectic taste in men."

Jayce, who had been standing awkwardly to the side, smiled and waved stiffly. "Uh… hi."

"Oh, he’s just a friend," Renly quipped, scratching the back of her head. "He’s helping me."

"Other one was a friend as well, as far as I remember," Vander mused, wiggling his eyebrows with a ridiculous smirk.

Renly blushed, lowering her gaze. "Well, the other one actually got promoted recently," she mumbled, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

Vander let out a low chuckle, voice dropping just for her. "I’m glad. I like the other one better."

She gasped, smacking his chest lightly, but a giggle slipped out despite herself.

Vander's teasing softened, replaced by something more serious as he lifted the bag slightly. "I’d offer you guys a drink, but it’s not very friendly around here. And if you insist on doing this…" he sighed, eyeing the bag under his arm. "I’ll arrange drop points with Ekko, so you don’t have to travel this far."

Renly opened her mouth to protest, but Vander squeezed her shoulder firmly.

"Don’t," he said, voice quieter now, but firm. "We can’t afford to lose you, Ren. This… this could change a lot of lives. Thank you."

Her throat tightened, but she swallowed it down and nodded. "O-okay. Um…" She shifted on her feet, suddenly hyperaware of the silent stares from the men in the room. "There are masks in the bag. And some medical supplies. And notes—notes with dosage instructions, and—"

"We’ll be alright, kid," Vander interrupted gently. "Go. Do you have masks for yourself?"

"No, I wanted to save them for you. We’re fine, I took a safe route."

"Renly," Vander said, his tone carrying a quiet warning, "take the masks."

"No, no, it’s really fine!" She gave him a quick hug and raised her hands in defence, stepping backward toward Jayce. "I promise we’ll be alright. It’s just a trip back—easy peasy."

Vander’s brow furrowed, but he relented—they did need every bit the could get. "Let me know when you get home. And… say hi to Viktor."

Jayce and Renly pulled their hoods back up, shrouding themselves once more in the quiet anonymity of the streets. Jayce shot the group at the table a stiff, awkward wave before following Renly out. The moment they stepped back into the cold air, Renly exhaled, shaking out her shoulders.

"Well, that went better than expected," she murmured, adjusting the bag beneath her coat.

Jayce chuckled. "Yeah. No fists were thrown, no drinks upended. I’d call that a win."

They set off at a steady pace, side by side, the tension in their steps easing as they left the Lanes behind. The streets were still lined with enforcers, but they kept their heads down, talking in low voices. The conversation drifted easily between them—Jayce making a joke about Vander’s approval ratings, Renly rolling her eyes but unable to hide her smirk.

They grew less mindful of the twists and turns they took, no longer focused on the careful, calculated route they had planned. That was their mistake.

It hit them in an instant. A shift in the air. The telltale fog curling through the dim light, thick as mist.

Renly was the first to react. She inhaled sharply, then choked—her lungs seizing, knees buckling. A violent cough wracked her chest as she stumbled forward, disoriented.

"Renly?" Jayce’s voice turned alarmed, his hand flying to her arm. Viktor was going to have his head for this. "Shit—hey, hey, stay with me—"

She barely heard him. The world wavered, distant, as her vision blurred at the edges. Her body felt like it was folding in on itself, unsteady, her breath strangled in her throat. The Grey curled around them, clinging, suffocating.

Jayce didn’t hesitate. He hooked an arm around her waist, pulling her close as she sagged against him.

"Help! We need help!" His voice boomed through the street as he spotted a pair of enforcers nearby. He strode toward them, half-carrying Renly as she fought to stay conscious. He fumbled in his coat, yanking out his academy identification card and shoving it in front of them.

"I’m Jayce Tallis—Piltover Academy, Hextech research! She needs medical attention—now!"

The enforcers exchanged glances, hesitation flickering between them.

***

Hours passed before Viktor finally got a general sense of what Renly was doing. And it wasn’t because her work was disorganised—on the contrary, her notes were kept with such care and diligence that it made him vaguely embarrassed about the state of his own journaling and documentation. No, the difficulty lay in the simple fact that he was not a chemist. But he was smart enough.

Smart enough to follow her instructions and calculations, to set a new batch of the cure to brew while Renly and Jayce were off gods knew where, doing gods knew what. And that uncertainty did influence Viktor’s focus, if only slightly—he found himself zoning out, wondering if everything was alright.

Step by step, he grew more aware of the elegance in Renly’s methods—practical, precise, and entirely her. Simple on the surface, yet intricate beneath, where time and patience had to be given to yield results beyond human jurisdiction.

With time to kill, he wandered from blueprint to blueprint. A sad sigh escaped him as his fingers traced the white lines of an old hextech project—something that now felt like a distant dream, an abandoned path. Moving through Renly’s notebooks to ensure nothing had been overlooked, he stumbled upon the very thing that had first made him realise she was braver than she let on—her strange device, the one Jayce had dismissed so hastily.

Oh, sweet irony.

Viktor tapped the end of his pencil against his chin, eyes flicking between Renly’s sketches and the notes she had scrawled in the margins. The device was a bold idea—with a potential for a small revolution—but it still had flaws. He could see where the design would struggle under pressure, where efficiency could be improved.

He exhaled, rolling his shoulders back. If he was going to be stuck waiting, he might as well make himself useful.

Pulling out a fresh sheet of paper, he began drafting his own modifications. The dispersal mechanism needed to be more precise—Renly’s design allowed for widespread coverage, but it lacked a controlled release. If too much of the cure was expelled at once, there was a risk of wastage. He sketched a new valve system, one that could regulate output based on environmental factors, ensuring the mist spread evenly without oversaturating any one area.

His mind raced ahead of his hand, refining, adjusting. A reinforced casing to withstand Zaun’s harsh conditions. A pressure gauge to monitor release. A failsafe mechanism to prevent clogging. The more he worked, the more the device took shape—not just as a concept, but as something tangible, something that could work.

And perhaps most importantly, something that could distribute the cure efficiently, safely.

His fingers hovered over the page, hesitating. A device like this—its potential extended beyond Renly’s intentions. In the wrong hands, Jayce wasn’t wrong, it could be weaponised. But in the right ones… in the hands of someone from Zaun?

Viktor let out a breath, shaking his head as if to dispel the thought. No use spiralling. Not yet.

Instead, he scribbled a few final notes in the margins, refining his calculations. Then, satisfied with his progress, he set his pencil down and leaned back in his chair. He would show Renly when she returned. If she returned soon.

Inevitably, he ran out of things to do. Glancing at the clock, he winced—both at how long it had been since the two people he cared about most had left the lab and at how much of that time he had spent working instead of resting, as he’d been told to.

With a resigned sigh, Viktor packed up the blueprints, set the correct temperatures and timers on the cure incubation chambers, and gathered his things to head home.

The walk home was dreadful. Without the distraction of work to occupy his mind, his thoughts caught up with him—spiralling, relentless. Worry gnawed at his ribs, carving space for possibilities he did not want to entertain. He pulled his coat tighter around himself, but it did nothing to ward off the creeping unease.

By the time he reached his apartment, exhaustion clung to him like damp clothes. He fumbled with the key, stepping inside with a sharp breath. The air was still, unwelcoming. He barely made it to the kitchen before slumping heavily into a chair, his cane clattering against the floor as he let go of it.

One minute. That was all he was granted to sit in the weight of his worry, hands clasped together, fingers gripping too tightly. One minute for doubt to settle, for worst-case scenarios to take root.

Then came the knock. Firm. Urgent.

“Viktor?” Jayce’s voice cut through the silence, muffled by the door but unmistakably there.

He jolted upright, pulse stuttering. Reaching for his cane, he pushed himself up on unsteady legs. If he could, he would have run to the door.

The door swung open, revealing Jayce—sweaty and panting—Renly with a breathing mask clasped to her face, and a stone-faced enforcer. Oh.

“What happened?” Viktor asked, already knowing the answer. Worry overshadowed his anger, and before he knew it, his hands were reaching for Renly, cradling her against his chest as he cupped her cheek.

“You should be more careful next time. Though I do hope you two will find a more suitable environment for a date than Zaun,” the officer deadpanned, not even bothering to look at Viktor. His expression betrayed utter confusion at the strange dynamics between the three of them.

Jayce scoffed, embarrassed. “Thank you,” he muttered before Renly could spit out a sharp, “Fuck off.”

Everything happened so fast that Viktor barely registered slamming the door shut, pulling the mask from Renly’s face, and patting Jayce on the shoulder—all at once. His eyes burned with silent questions as he cupped Renly’s face, his brows furrowed, tethering between anger and concern.

“Don’t look at me like that. You didn’t keep your promise either,” she said weakly, her gaze flicking over him. His dishevelled clothes, loosened tie, and the way his hair stuck up from where he had clearly run a hand through it while hunched over his desk for hours—almost caught in the act.

Viktor ignored her entirely. His head snapped up. “Jayce?”

“Ah, just a small mishap on the way out. All is fine, though, I promise.” Jayce placed a shaky hand on Viktor’s shoulder, offering reassurance he barely believed himself. He didn’t want to worry him further—even if, for a terrifying ten minutes, it had looked far worse than he’d ever admit.

He barely breathed as Renly slipped from his hands. And he held his breath while she lost hers, momentarily. He only allowed himself a gasp of Zaun’s tainted air once her eyes fluttered open and her mouth moved in an inaudible, “Jayce?”

Viktor’s gaze snapped to Jayce, catching the flicker of emotions that crossed his face—relief, guilt, something heavier that lingered in the creases of his brow. He swallowed hard, his lips parting as if to speak, but no words came. Then, with a sharp blink, he pulled himself together, offering Viktor a tired smile.

“I promise, it’s all good now,” Jayce said, his voice steady but edged with exhaustion. “Let’s talk later. I’ll leave you two to have some time alone.”

Gratitude surged through Viktor, chased swiftly by a chilling realization—had he gone with Renly, he might not have been able to hold it all together. The thought unsettled him more than he cared to admit. So, instead of speaking, he reached out and pulled Jayce into a half-hug, Renly squeezed between them. Jayce huffed a breath of something like laughter, then pressed a brief kiss to her forehead before stepping back.

“Take care of her,” he murmured, then strolled off, no doubt to curl up beside Mel and sleep off whatever hell they’d just endured.

In the quiet corridor, Renly and Viktor remained, her weight leaning ever so slightly into him. She exhaled, then rasped out, “When will the hearing start?” A half-hearted joke, her tone wry, but laced with exhaustion.

His serious expression didn’t waver at first. But then his eyes softened, and with a slow exhale, he pulled her closer.

Or rather, he pulled the stench of Zaun’s pollution into his arms, the acrid tang of smoke and chemicals clinging to her clothes, her hair. It should have made him recoil. He didn’t. Instead, his knuckles whitened where they gripped her shoulders, then the back of her head, holding her there as if she might disappear again.

“Later,” he murmured, voice quieter now. “For now, you get the asylum.”

Renly hugged him back with equal need, sinking her face into the crook of his neck, her fingers closing around his vest, crumpling it further. "I don't deserve you," she whispered, letting out a long breath as the full capacity of her lungs finally returned to her.

Viktor pulled away to look at her and whispered back, "You do. You also deserve a bath. Or rather, I deserve you not smelling like this." And he was no longer able to hold back the disgusted twist on his face.

Renly huffed a quiet laugh against his skin, the warmth of her breath sending a shiver down his spine. She didn’t let go, though, and neither did he.

“Fair,” she murmured, voice still raw. “But if I let go now, I might fall over. And you’re hardly in a state to catch me.”

Viktor smirked, though his grip on her didn’t waver. “Then I suppose we are at an impasse.”

For a few beats, they just stood there, suspended in exhaustion and relief, until Viktor finally exhaled and loosened his hold just enough to guide her toward the bathroom. He pressed a kiss to her temple before stepping back completely, already missing her warmth but refusing to let it show.

“Go,” he said, waving a hand. “Before I am forced to open a window.”

Renly rolled her eyes but obeyed, shuffling off with all the energy of a corpse reanimated purely out of spite.

Viktor lingered in the corridor a moment longer, rubbing a tired hand over his face before heading to bedroom to retrieve some clean towels and clothes for her. He would wait. He would let his mind settle. And then, when she was clean and warm and back in his arms, they would talk.

Viktor stepped into the bathroom, taking a moment to look at Renly as she stepped into the shower. He turned the dial, adjusting the temperature before nodding at her to get under the water. A familiar, peaceful silence settled between them as the steam began to swirl around the room.

He offered her a small, tender kiss on her forehead as he switched out the towel from her shoulders for something cleaner, the motion slow, almost reverent. There was a soft hum of contentment between them as Viktor wrapped her hair up in the towel, his hands lingering on her shoulders for just a moment longer than necessary. Something in the ordinary act—so domestic, so unspoken—made his stomach flutter in a way he couldn’t explain. He found himself standing under the stream of water a moment later, still dumbfounded by the strange warmth pooling in his chest, imagining her leaving the bathroom in his clothes.

By the time he emerged, she was already settled in bed, curled on her side. Without a second thought, he crawled toward her, needing to be close. His hands reached for her thighs, pulling her flush against him, a quiet shiver of closeness filling him. “You smell like me,” he murmured, breathless against her skin.

Renly let out a quiet laugh, tugging at his hair playfully. “So… what have you been up to?” she asked, her voice warm with the softness of their moment. Viktor smiled into her neck as he kissed her there, continuing their slow, intimate dance.

“Ah, you know,” he said softly, his lips brushing her skin, “I found solace in work, as usual.”

“Work on what?” Renly asked wearily, her voice quiet but sharp with the knowledge of what was likely to come. The Hexcore was locked away, and Viktor hadn’t let go of it yet. Either he was still fiddling with it, or he’d already begun something entirely new. She knew which one was more probable.

“Well,” Viktor murmured, his lips teasing along her collarbone, “as you took every last drop with you, I’ve set a new batch of your genius cure to brew. I must say, I was very impressed with your note-keeping.” His voice was soft, appreciative, as though musing on how she could manage to keep everything so meticulously organized.

Renly froze, her eyes wide with disbelief, her heart swelling with affection for this man of hers. How could he make even the mundane feel so thoughtful, so... beautiful? She reached up, brushing a stray strand of hair from his forehead, unable to hide the wonder in her voice. “You... are incredible.”

Viktor paused, pulling back enough to look at her, his hands still caressing her. “I had to keep myself busy with something, so I might’ve just taken up something useful,” he said, his words soft but carrying an air of quiet satisfaction.

Renly was stunned. She couldn't find words, only the small, affectionate pull she felt in her chest at how Viktor was constantly doing the unexpected. He shifted, brushing his lips over her shoulder and down her neck, easing the tension in both of them.

“I might’ve thought of a certain compromise while you were away,” he added after a moment, his voice low. The word caught in her chest, and her brow furrowed, the undertaste of it sinking in. Viktor didn’t like the idea of her risking her health. She couldn’t blame him for it, but the thought of him compromising...

He sucked in a breath, and she held her own, waiting. “Your notes and research are readable,” he continued, his voice steady. “Simple enough that manufacturing could be handled by someone in Zaun. Alongside the blueprints for your device, which—well, I may have tweaked a little.” He leaned in, pressing a kiss to her lips, his hands continuing their reassuring journey along her skin.

Renly froze again, processing the depth of what he was saying. Zaun? The device she’d created, tweaked? Her mind was spinning as she tried to keep up with his words, her heart stuttering. “Someone smart,” Viktor continued, his voice reassuring. “Someone driven. Like... say, a young gentleman who seems hellbent on keeping Zaun safe.”

She pulled back slightly, her gaze searching his face, her voice quieter now. “Viktor, are you telling me that you’ve already arranged—?”

His smile softened. “Oh, no, I wouldn’t, not without your blessing. But I thought that would make things simpler. And I believe you know who I’m talking about.”

Renly's heart skipped. The weight of what Viktor was suggesting hit her. The idea that he’d already thought of this, already figured out a way forward without her needing to lift another finger, was overwhelming.

For a moment, there was silence. She pressed herself against him again, her arms around him now, the tension in her body easing as she let the weight of everything sink into their shared space. In his arms, everything felt like it was finally in its place.

Viktor's voice was softer now, the words just for her. "I have to admit. I thought of another thing too. I would like to know your opinion."

Renly raised an eyebrow, her mind still processing everything they’d already discussed. "Is there more? Have you moved into a pocket dimension while I was away?"

Viktor’s lips twitched into a faint smile, his eyes narrowing slightly as he carefully chose his words. "Eh, something like that." He paused, running a hand through his hair in a gesture that almost seemed absent.

In reality, the thought had plagued him ever since Renly had left. His brain had to work overtime to keep the rush of anxiety at bay, and yet he still found himself filled with something strange—a quiet hope—when he spoke about it. "Looking at your aperture, I thought… it could be used as a base design for a general filtration system for Zaun. Making The Grey, well, obsolete. Maybe it’s a solution upon which new problems will arise, but—"

Renly blinked, her expression softening with disbelief as she absorbed his words. "You really think it possible? Don’t joke with me like that."

Viktor looked away for a moment, his hands rubbing together in a slight nervous gesture, before turning his eyes back to her. "I know it’s entirely possible." The certainty in his tone was quiet but unwavering, as though he’d already come to terms with it himself. There was a spark of hope behind his words, like he truly believed it could work—could change everything.

"But…" Renly's mind raced, the idea still a bit too large to fully grasp. She shook her head slightly, furrowing her brow as her voice softened with genuine confusion. "I am no engineer. I’m a chemist, a biologist, I have no idea—"

Viktor’s eyes lingered on her face, his voice careful, yet edged with something that might have been excitement or perhaps the vulnerability of laying himself bare. "Well, if you only had an engineer that was willing to help you." The words left his lips almost too quickly, as though he couldn’t quite keep the hopefulness out of his tone.

Renly blinked, once, twice, her mind struggling to process what he had just said. She stared at him, her voice faltering with surprise. "You… want to work… with me?"

Viktor's lips twitched again, a soft smirk on his face, though there was an unmistakable warmth in his eyes—something he rarely allowed anyone to see. "Am I not worthy?" he teased lightly, the question laced with the faintest trace of his own insecurity, despite the hope that lingered in his voice. He wasn’t sure how this would go, or how she would react, but the weight of what he was suggesting seemed to hold a quiet promise in the air between them.

“Viktor. If anything, I am not worthy. Is this truly what you want?” She kept asking, giving him a way out, hoping that he wouldn’t take it. Working with Viktor, really working with him, was beyond anything she could have hoped for. And now that the opportunity presented itself, she felt an unbearable pang of expectation surging through her. It made her fingers clutch onto his shirt, her eyes wide.

“Renly, I—” Viktor started and then bit his lip.

“I see no future without you in it. I want everything to do with you. I—” Here, Viktor didn’t know if this was something he had thought about before or not. But it just bubbled out of him with an unstoppable force, not dissimilar to the first time he told her that he loved her. Before fear could grip him, he heard himself saying, “Marry me.”

Renly froze. And just… stared at him, blinking. Frankly, it was terrifying, and Viktor almost said, “I’m joking,” when he saw a single tear escaping through her eyelashes. And then, her mouth was on his. And her hands were in his hair. And her legs were wrapping around him. And then, she mumbled, “Forgive me, but I will not ask if you are sure about this. Yes, a thousand times yes and you don’t get to back out,” between kisses.

Viktor, barely able to get a second where his lips weren’t occupied managed to muffle out, “I would nev—“, the rest eaten by Renly’s greedy mouth. He could feel the tension fleeting his body. Silly thing really, but a split second fear of rejection did linger somewhere underneath his abrupt question, until it got exchanged for something completely different as his mouth started moving hungrily under Renly’s.

“Wait,” he murmured breathlessly, placing a finger on her lips. She pouted, took his finger in her mouth and Viktor rolled his eyes at this display of impatience and at something else entirely. He pulled himself up to have his neck rested against the pillows, while Renly’s fingers dug into the buttons of his pyjamas shirt, reverently undoing each one, her fingers ghosting the dense skin of his chest.

Her eyes never left his, and Viktor found it difficult to draw breaths under the weight of that gaze. She took him in under her lashes as his torso hugged by the brace became exposed and her hand travelled up across the leather, still faintly damp after the shower, across the prickling skin of his chest, to run up his long neck and cup his face. A gentle stroke across his cheekbones, before her lips graced his forehead with a soft kiss. Then, her lips came to his mole, a soft peck left there, burning under his eye, before the touch ghosted the bridge of his nose to finally land above his upper lip. And then on his lip, a chaste kiss.

Before he knew it, her hands guided him up, her lips distracting him as she sucked on the petal of his ear and her fingers slid the shirt off his back. He was barely able to let out a breath when her weight left him momentarily and with the corner of his eye Viktor saw her hand snatch the wrench from his bedside table. The mattress dipped behind him and her fingers begun their gentle work of loosening the contraption of his chest, bolt after bolt, strap after strap, every patch of revealed skin granted a gentle rub.

Her mouth followed and Viktor felt little parts of him melting away under the soft skin of her lips. Then, her chin filled the crook of his neck and when he looked down he could see her fingers working the front of the brace, before it was finally pulled off him and air wrapped itself around his ribs. He spent two seconds alone on the bed, while Renly stood to place his armour on the dresser.

The mattress dipped once again, as she knelt between his legs and halted her fingers at the waist of his pants, a silent plea for permission painting her face. And Viktor did three things at once—nodded eagerly, muttered a quiet yes while lifting his hips for her. He watched doing all of this—holding his ankles as she slid him out of his trousers, propping his knee while the leg brace clicked away from his muscles, and she kissed the indentations it left on his skin.

“I want you all,” she whispered, cradling his leg, and it had meant so much more than just “I want both your good leg and your bad leg,” but Viktor was unable to fit it in his heart. Instead, he whispered, “I’m yours. Use me,” with his cheeks flushed red and his voice barely there.

So much love in her eyes, his heart almost popped out of his chest when Renly propped his bum leg up on her shoulder and kissed his ankle. Then, her lips travelled up his calf and the inner side of his knee. She spent a long time on his thigh, just kissing and humming into his tired muscle. Then, hot mouth continued its journey up, up his leg to lick across the crease where the hip turns into navel and Viktor’s neck flexed his head deep into the pillow at the wet glide on his lower belly, so close he could feel the heat of her cheek on his cock.

But it passed him, needy and leaking, as Renly moved to the other side to suck on the sharp edge of his hip, a faint bruise blooming under her mouth. Only when he was marked she finally, finally pressed her mouth to the base of his cock and his body jerked, smearing the pearly precum on his stomach. A trail of slick open mouth kisses led all the way up to the tip, when her fingers wrapped around him, and she spread his slick all over her cheek.

And when Viktor thought he cannot possibly become more worked up and the muscles of his stomach cannot clench further, she licked a stripe across his slit with the tip of her tongue, causing him to squirm embarrassingly. He clasped a hand to his forehead and his hips jolted upwards, meeting her mouth as she took him in, her tongue rolling across his head, as if tying a cherry stem into a knot.

Fingers wrapped around what she couldn’t fit, she kept a steady pace with both her hand and mouth, milking him slowly, her drool mixing with precum. Viktor tried to will his hips not to move, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes, listening to the sounds of his hoarse breathing and her hot mouth bleeding into one, undoubtedly his favourite kind of noise.

And she knew he was close, once his moans grew unrestrained and his legs begun to shake around her, so she gave him a long, thorough suck and pulled the orgasm out of him. He spilled into her mouth and Renly swallowed it all, saving every last drop to herself.

One glance of her eyes to his blissfully fucked-out face, red and panting, coated in a thin layer of glistening sweat, before she released him and continued her journey up, kissing his sensitive stomach, dragging her mouth across his sternum, leaving a loving bite above his left nipple before taking it between her lips. Another bite, greedy, on his collar bone, when Viktor threw his head back to gift her his neck. And her lips travelled there, sucking into it mercilessly, marking every inch with red hickeys.

Before his lips got to completely dry out through all the heavy breathing, Renly closed her mouth around them and licked across the seam. His hands found her ass, kneading her flesh, when one palm travelled up to grip the back of her neck and keep her pinned against him for a second longer. Their mouths parted by an inch and Viktor breathed out a soft, grateful, “I love you.”

“And I love you,” she whispered back, pressing her forehead to his, as Viktor’s hand slid down to play with the hem of her shirt.

“I think it’s hardly fair that I’m naked and you are not,” he murmured against her lips. “Lift your arms, please,” Viktor said tugging at the material and before he could complain further, she obeyed, giggling when a button got tangled in her hair.

He took a moment to ogle her shamelessly—this was his, potentially forever. And now forever seemed not that far from possible.

He pressed his face to her chest and just breathed in, through mouth and nose. Then, placed a reverent kiss on her breast, another on her collar bone, another on her sternum. He could feel her heart beating under his lips.

She hummed at his touch, tugging on the short hair at the base of his skull, while Viktor’s mouth closed around her nipple. His hand brushed against her other breast, rolling the bud of tender skin in his calloused fingers.

At that, a moan escaped Renly’s mouth, her fingers tightened the grip on his hair and Viktor groaned into a smile. His teeth grazed gently, before he switched sides and lost the tenderness on the way. A bite on her other nipple caused her to coil inside and clench her thighs on Viktor’s lap, while he was licking over the love mark blooming on her chest.

“Those need to go too,” he breathed into her heart, hands already sliding down her waist and grabbing handfuls of her ass. She nodded, propped herself on her arms, lifted her hips, and pressed her breasts back into Viktor’s face, while his thumbs blindly pulled down on her waistband.

Once her pants, well, Viktor’s pants, got tossed onto the floor, his hand travelled between her legs to palm her sex and Viktor sighed at the state of it. “Already so wet for me,” he whispered with awe, and she couldn’t fight the heat of a blush creeping up her neck. His fingers brushed her hole, before taking a shallow dip inside and pulling her slick all the way up to her clit.

Renly gasped when Viktor retreated his hand to examine the webs of her arousal coating his fingers. He stretched them apart and pulled them back together, playing with it in front of her eyes and she just watched, transfixed, feeling herself getting more and more drenched. Her eyes went wide once Viktor put his fingers into his mouth and sucked himself clean, humming loudly, his lips curving into a smirk.

He spat on the heel of his palm, before snaking his hand back to her cunt, the meat of it pressed against her clit, while his fingers teased the entrance. His free arm wrapped around her, pressing flat against the small of her back, and Renly hugged his neck.

Slowly, fingers pushed inside as Viktor begun to pump her lazily, grinding his palm against her core. The pace punishingly unhurried as Renly wiggled her hips, patience wearing thin, and she whined, “Please, can you go a little faster?”

Viktor snorted and said only, “Maybe,” a shit-eating grin blooming on his mouth. Before she could sigh in exasperation, he picked up the pace, snapping his fingers in and out, finding the spot that made her toes curl, and a complaint died in her throat, reborn as a breathy moan.

Her head dropped onto his shoulder and legs began to shake. When he felt her walls clenching down and breathing getting heavier, Viktor nudged her with his chin to face him. He clashed his lips against hers, kissing her roughly through her orgasm. She bit on his lip and whined into his throat, rocking her hips on his hand throughout the release.

Drawing raspy breaths against each other, they sat together through her aftermath, foreheads touching. Renly placed a flat palm on Viktor’s heart and just held it for a moment, feeling the flutter under her skin. Then, with a smirk, she gave him a firm push, making his back meet the mattress and his head fall onto the pillow, having him splayed flat beneath her.

This time it was Viktor’s eyes that went wide at the sight of her lifting her hips and aligning his cock at her entrance. She sank onto him slowly, everything so tight as she took him in inch by inch and Viktor watched, mesmerised as his length disappeared between her folds. His mouth fell open, and a hand travelled to rest against her sternum, feeling her heartbeat. And it fluttered beautifully once he filled her up.

Her hips began to rock back and forth, and Viktor felt himself hugged from all sides. He bit his lip, watching her move and whispered absent mindedly, “You are so beautiful.”

She blushed, gods know which time today and her walls clenched further. He could see himself bulge out in her lower abdomen and run his fingers through the hill poking out through her skin, eyes wide with wonder.

“Lásko, I want you closer,” he breathed, propping himself on elbows and bending his knees to rest against her back. She giggled stupidly, asking, “Closer to what?”

Viktor huffed a laugh and shook his head, nudged her with his thigh as his hands came to rest against her hips. He added a gentle rock to his pelvis, meeting her in the middle, and Renly’s back went to rest against his legs, her head falling back with a moan. Her lips parted, eyes rolled in her skull as Viktor’s cock filled her up so sweetly her hands began to search for his. She entwined their fingers to pull herself back up and rasped, “Now I want you closer.”

And to his luck, Viktor said nothing. He said nothing, just looked at her like she hung the moon, because he would grant her every wish. This was his wife. Soon, hopefully. A completely soul-crushing feeling surged through him as he used her arms to pull himself up and bring her close to his chest. “I always want you close.”

His mouth fell onto breasts, kissing and licking, hand travelled between her shoulder blades and Renly brought her arms around his neck, fingers tugging at his hair. Viktor groaned at the tightness around his cock as his hips jutted upwards. She kept meeting his thrusts with downward push of her hips and felt him twitching inside her, his breath coming in hot pants.

And when she was close, unbearably so, she moved her face against his to moan straight into his mouth, wrapping herself around him, arms around his neck, legs pressing into his hips, walls quivering around his cock, and brought him with her to the peak as Viktor spilled into her tightening cunt and curled around her with a strangled groan. His stomach flexed, eyebrows knitted together, and nose pressed into Renly’s cheek. She creamed all over him with a few more spasms of her core and Viktor muttered a quiet curse against her skin.

With a couple of steadying breaths, she let out a laugh—blissful and honest—as she brushed damp hair away from his forehead and looked into his eyes. “You really mean it, don’t you?” she asked, the answer written all over his face.

“I meant each of those two words. Marry me. Be close to me, always,” he whispered, breathing into her neck, kissing, licking, not knowing what to do to truly convey everything he was feeling. The only word coming to mind: whole. He felt whole.

Stumbling back onto the mattress, tangled together, they simply stayed like that for a little while, basking in each other’s warmth. A series of deep breaths passed between them, muscles relaxing, skin cooling. With a faint sound of protest from Viktor, Renly untangled herself from between his legs. His softening cock slipped out, seed spilling down her thighs. She kissed his forehead and shook her head when he tried to pull her back in.

As she waddled to the bathroom on unsteady legs, Viktor couldn’t help but giggle at the sight—part of him amused, part still disbelieving. How odd. How utterly and crushingly strange to feel so complete when so much of him was still imperfect.

“Do you ever use your bathtub, Viktor?” came Renly’s voice from the bathroom, the sound of running water humming in the background.

“Eh, not really,” he called back, splaying himself out on the bed like a starfish. “I, uh… am not very good at getting out of it, if you catch my meaning.”

Her head peeked out from behind the door, her face surprised as she asked, “Never? Like, never ever? Not even once?”

“Well, it would be an eternal bath then, until someone finds my dissolved body,” Viktor sang toward the ceiling, smiling, not minding the admission in front of her at all.

The mattress dipped next to him, and he felt a warm cloth sweeping across his chest, wiping away the sheen of sweat. “What if I make sure that doesn’t happen?” she asked, combing her fingers through his hair.

“Anything you want, my love. My wife,” Viktor murmured, seizing her hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

Her eyes dropped to the marks she’d left on him, and she whispered absentmindedly, “I got you good this time.”

“Good. I might consider loosening my cravat rules—just so everyone can see,” he teased, propping himself up and wrapping his arms around her. He buried his face in her hair as she rested her forehead against his shoulder.

“Come on, let’s give this a try,” she murmured into his skin, taking his hands in hers and helping him up. They walked slowly, Viktor draped around her like a sleepy child, humming and pressing lazy kisses to her neck. Once inside, she sat him in the chair and poured bath liquid under the running water. Viktor simply watched her from under hooded eyelids, a tired smile playing on his lips. He was so blissfully spent he could only breathe in the scent of juniper and sage twirling in the steam.

Renly got in first, dipping her hair back and stretching her limbs. “Come on, then,” she urged. Viktor stood lazily, yawning and flexing his arms above his head. Her hands hovered near him as he lowered himself into the tub, arms wrapping around her waist, a leg hooking over hers, his face nuzzling into her throat. A long sigh escaped his lips as Renly poured warm water over his hair.

She worked the tension from his muscles with a gentle touch, rubbing out the knots in his shoulders, neck, and back. Then, she took his palm in her hand and pressed into the heel of it, making him sigh and drift off.

“I love you so much,” Viktor slurred, his body close to dissolving—in a good way this time. Renly tilted her chin down to place a kiss on his brow.

“I love you too. Sleep. I’ll wake you before you drown,” she whispered into his hair. Viktor chuckled, the sound fading into a hum.

As the water lapped gently against the sides of the tub, the world outside their small, warm haven felt distant—insignificant. Viktor's breaths had slowed, his body heavy against hers, lulled into a rare, quiet peace. Renly traced lazy patterns over his back, her touch featherlight, as if grounding herself in the reality of him. He was here. They were here. Against every force that had tried to pull them apart, they had found their way to each other. And now, there was nothing left to run from, nothing left to prove. Just the steady rhythm of their heartbeats, the promise of tomorrow, and the certainty that whatever came next, they would face it together.

***

EPILOGUE

“Please tell me this is the last box,” Jayce huffed, wiping sweat from his forehead. His cheeks were flushed, hair dishevelled, and dark patches of sweat clung to his armpits, neck, and the small of his back through his shirt. “Viktor, how did you accumulate so much junk in such a small apartment?”

“It’s not junk, Jayce, it’s just… things. Important things,” Viktor replied distractedly, giving one last proper look at his emptying flat. How odd, he thought. A space that had once felt so cozy, so his, now gutted of everything that made it a home. A fresh start lay ahead of him.

“I can’t believe that, between the two of you, Renly had less stuff to move,” Jayce grumbled under his breath, lifting what appeared to be the final box.

“I think the key difference here is that my junk is small, while Viktor’s junk is big,” Renly quipped, utterly pleased with herself.

Jayce groaned, shaking his head. “You’re disgusting.”

Viktor only stifled his cackle behind his palm before stepping toward Renly, gently taking her hand in his. His fingers traced over her ring—his soul buried within it. He had never thought himself capable of crafting something so delicate, yet once he began, it had practically made itself into existence.

Viktor’s thumb ghosted over the ring, feeling the cool metal against his skin. It was not gold, nor silver—those were too soft, too ordinary. Instead, he had chosen something stronger, something that could endure: darkened titanium, polished just enough to gleam under the light. Set into the band was a stone unlike any other—a raw-cut sapphire, its surface uneven, its depths swirling with fragments of darker blue and violet. Imperfect yet undeniably beautiful, just like him. Just like them. The design was unconventional, unrefined in a way that made it wholly unique. A piece of his mind, his hands, his devotion, shaped into something she would wear always.

She picked up his hand and pressed a kiss to his knuckles before asking, “Scared?”

“Out of my mind,” Viktor huffed a laugh. “But in a good way.”

“Me too.” She smiled, threading her fingers into his hair. “Also in a good way.”

“Well, I am just deeply wounded,” Jayce announced, appearing back in the doorway, panting heavily. “Viktor never gave me a ring, and I’ve known him the longest!”

“Back off, Talis. This one is mine.” Renly rolled her eyes and smacked Jayce’s chest. He doubled over in mock agony, groaning as if the light hit had finished him completely.

“Alright. I think we’re done here,” Viktor said solemnly, wrapping one arm around Renly’s waist while resting the other on Jayce’s shoulder. His gaze swept over the empty flat, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Jayce, you reek.”

“Oh, do I?” Jayce caught on quickly, and in an instant, he yanked Viktor into a tight embrace, grinning wickedly. “This is what love smells like, Viktor. And I love you enough to haul your junk from one end of Piltover to the other.”

This wasn’t entirely true, of course, as Viktor and Renly were only moving to the border between Zaun and Piltover—right next to the bridge on Zaun’s side—settling them equally close to both the Academy and the Undercity. A compromise between old and new.

“Alright, I surrender,” Viktor said, waving his hands weakly as he tried to weasel out of Jayce’s embrace.

Jayce and Renly picked up the last loose items clattering around the space and went ahead to pack it all up into the transport. As Viktor turned back one last time, he let his gaze linger on the empty space that had once been his. The walls, stripped bare, held no trace of the life he had built within them. Just echoes now—of late nights spent scribbling equations, of the soft hum of Renly’s voice filling the silence, of solitude turned into something else.

For a second, he wondered—what was that? That thing which had held him back from pursuing joy for so long. That weight, that vice grip of doubt, convincing him he was never enough. And yet, somewhere along the way, Renly had chased it away with her kind hands and infuriating persistence. How she had done it, he did not know. Where it had gone, he did not care.

All that mattered was that it was gone. That his lungs were better. His heart felt lighter and fuller at the same time. A new dream was unravelling itself before him. And he was finally free.

With a quiet breath, he stepped forward, placed the key on the counter, and let his fingers rest on it for just a moment longer than necessary. Then, with no ceremony, he turned on his heel and pulled the door shut behind him.

From ahead, Jayce’s voice rang out. “What was that? Sentimental? Viktor, are you getting soft on me?”

Renly snorted, lugging the last of their things down the stairs. “Oh, he’s been soft for a while now. You’re just late to notice.”

Viktor exhaled a laugh, shaking his head as he descended after them. “Let’s go home.”

#viktor arcane #viktor x reader #viktor fanfic #viktor x reader smut #viktor x f!reader #arcane #viktor smut #arcane fanfic #my writing #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #viktor x oc #viktor nation #what was that

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super-ion · 1 year ago

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Such Lovely Fur

Chapter 1

[Chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4]

The wind howls horribly as I stagger through the drifts of snow. It tears at my cloak and dress, digging icy fingers down to my bones. My teeth are chattering and I can barely feel my hands as I tug the cloak tight around my shoulders.

I find myself wondering for probably the thousandth time if this whole endeavor is a fool's errand. Many men have attempted this very mission, most have never returned.

What hope does someone like me possibly have?

I pause beneath a rocky outcropping, desperately trying to rub feeling back into my numb hands when I hear the voice. It comes in the form of a song in a language I do not recognize, piercing through the storm unnaturally (though there is hardly anything natural about this storm in the first place).

Were I in my right mind, I would ignore it, but I am cold and delirious from exhaustion. Instead I stagger forward blindly through the wind driven snow, drawn inexorably towards the haunting voice.

What I find is a cage, hanging from a sorry looking tree and woven from rough hewn strips of wood and covered with glowing symbols. Within sits the hunched figure of the singer. Her back is to me, so all I can see is a cloak that appears to be covered in dusky feathers.

“Hello?”

She stops singing and whirls to grip the bars. What I previously mistook for a feathered cloak is in fact a pair of wings in place of her arms, three fingers with wicked looking claws emerging halfway down their length. Curling horns and pointed ears sprout from beneath the raven dark tresses of her hair, framing a face with pale mottled gray skin and a sort of flattened nose and tilted eyes like a cat’s. The eyes themselves… they are jet black with glowing flecks like sparks dancing within.

She… I don't even know if this is a she… regards me hungrily with those eyes.

“Hey!” she says desperately. “Get me out of here and I'll grant you your heart's desire!”

Her husky voice snaps me out of my shock and I stagger back.

“Demon!” I gasp.

Her face falls and she makes a sulky pout at me.

“Please?” she asks. “Judging from the spells inscribed on this cage, there are sorcerers about, no doubt intending to carve out my hearts and drink my blood. I would really rather not be around when they return.”

Still in shock at the sight of her, I stumble backward, turn to leave and…

Her words are finally catching up with me.

She could help me save my betrothed.

“You… you can grant my heart's desire?”

She blinks in surprise and her ears twitch. She crouches in the cage, beckoning me closer. I take a few cautious steps forward.

“That might have been a slight exaggeration on my part,” she confesses. “But it is within my power to grant you boons to aid you in achieving such a heart's desire.”

“What sort of boons?” I ask, trying and failing to hide my shivering.

She makes a pointed glance at my cloak, fine dress and thin shoes, all of which are wholly unsuited for the ice and snow whirling around us.

“Well, that depends on what you need,” she replies. “If, as I suspect, you intend to brave this cursed storm and climb the mountain, it is within my power to grant you such tools to assist in such an endeavor.”

I should say no. I should not deal with demons, caged or no.

I also should not be out here in the elements attempting something so foolish. I am far outside of my realm of experience. I will surely freeze to death or worse before getting anywhere close to the top of the mountain.

“How many boons?” I demand.

A hopeful spark shines in her eyes and she grins, revealing sharp teeth.

“Three,” she says. “Standard package. Very powerful number, three.”

“Just so we're clear, I let you go and you grant me three boons?”

“You release me from this cage and I shall grant you three boons spread over three days of your choosing. I swear it on the skulls of my ancestors.”

She points eagerly to a surprisingly simple latch holding the cage closed. I know very little about magic, such things are anathema in civilized society, but I can only assume the glowing writing on the cage is meant for something like her and not something like me.

Regardless, I am reluctant to get too close. I find a long stick amongst the snow at the base of the tree and poke fumblingly at the latch from a safe distance. After a few attempts, I finally manage it and she comes tumbling out in a great squawking bundle of feathers.

She dusts the snow off of herself, revealing great birdlike feet with wicked talons and a whip-like tail that lashes excitedly behind her. She uncurls her body to full height and extends her wings in a languorous stretch.

I am not a short person, but I find myself dwarfed by her. At full height, she is nearly a full head taller than me, and her outstretched wings are nearly twice that height.

She cracks her neck and folds her wings close, ruffling her feathers and puffing up to ward off the cold.

My heart is hammering in my chest when she finally turns her attention back to me.

“What manner of person are you?” she asks as she begins circling me. “Man or woman? Something else maybe?”

She pauses behind me, craning her neck to get a look down my collar. I wrap my cloak around myself tightly in an attempt to preserve my modesty.

“I am a woman!” I snap indignantly.

She cocks her head.

“Indeed?”

When I was fifteen, my household hosted a delegation of merchants from a land across the sea. I remember them ogling and leering at me and asking the most inappropriate sorts of questions. I hated every minute of it, but the trade interests were too important for any sort of argument my father had told me. So I played the dutiful daughter. I made my family proud.

Out here in the wild, so far removed from any sort of propriety, this demon seemed to possess a genuine desire to understand, without a hint of derision. Perhaps… perhaps I could have a conversation with someone unburdened by any preconceived notions of the dictates of gender, neither from my homeland or distant lands with backwards beliefs.

The old familiar traitorous thoughts send a thrill through me and I quickly shove them aside. It is not proper to question my place in society or my role as a daughter or a bride. Nor is it proper to hold any such conversation with a demon.

(Nor is it proper for a woman of my station to be out in the wilderness such as I am, but these are special circumstances)

“Indeed I am,” I say. “Now tell me of these boons.”

She scowls in disappointment at the change of topic.

“Fine,” she sighs. “But first, answer me this: what is it that you seek? What is it that your heart desires?”

“I was to be wed at the end of summer, but the night before the wedding day, the Lady of Winter came down from her mountain and stole my bridegroom away. He is the nephew of a merchant prince, they are a very wealthy and-”

“You're out here risking your life for a man??” she interrupts. “No man is worth trifling with the Lady of Winter, trust me.”

“I am doing my family a great honor!” I reply defensively. “I will prove my devotion and earn my parents an even greater brideprice than what has already been agreed upon.”

She cocks her head the other way and leans forward, raising an eyebrow dubiously.

“But do you love him?” she asks.

“He was one of my dearest friends when we were children,” I say, forcing myself to meet her gaze. “On my naming day, a soothsayer read our fortunes in the stars and determined that we were a most auspicious match.”

She leans closer, too close now.

“You didn't answer my question,” she purrs.

“What is it to you?” I demand, jerking back.

She smirks and gives a little shrug.

“Nothing to me,” she says. “I'm simply gauging your conviction. These sorts of things come with a cost, and if your head and heart possess different notions of that cost, it can complicate things.”

“A cost??” I sputter. “But I freed you-”

“In exchange for the privilege of receiving my gifts,” she enunciates slowly with a roll of her eyes. “Listen, my friend. I can't make something from nothing, so everything costs something. It's called equivalent exchange.”

She taps her chin thoughtfully and sweeps me head to toe with her gaze.

“For example,” she continues. “A fur coat would serve you well… something nice and cozy to keep the chill at bay. I can't simply pull one out of thin air, I need something from you first.”

“What do you need?” I ask nervously.

“Your skin.”

“My…?”

I recoil in horror and she bursts into cackling laughter.

“Your face!” she wheezes as she doubles over. “You should see it!”

I feel a rush of embarrassed indignance and I'm surprised to find my fists clenching.

“This isn't funny,” I say through gritted teeth.

“Oh, but it is,” she says as she wipes tears from her eyes. “Seriously though, we'll need your skin. The best, easiest way to do this is to trick part of your body into forgetting that it's human.”

I stare at her, mouth agape.

“You mean… fur. Literal fur on my body? You can't be serious.”

“I am,” she says with a wicked grin. “That's how my magic works. How far are you willing to go for this man?”

I think of the pride in my father's face when my brideprice was negotiated. I think of the face of my bridegroom, the way he looked upon me the last time I saw him, the desire and satisfaction that I would soon be his.

I shouldn't even be out here, it is not a woman’s place to conduct such a rescue. If I returned now, empty handed, the dishonor I would face would be unimaginable. It would be far, far worse than if I had never left at all.

For better or worse, I am committed. I am also woefully unprepared and my success is now dependent upon the gifts this demon has to offer.

Fur would not be such a terrible thing, would it? I already shaved my body daily. This would just be one extra step to my morning and evening routines.

“Do it,” I command.

She claps her hands in delight.

“Close your eyes," she drawls, "and try not to think. Don't fight it.”

I close my eyes and stand shivering in the cold. I try to force my thoughts into quietude. It is difficult, with each stray thought I supress, it seems that two more appear to take its place.

I feel a jolt and a tingling feeling spreads throughout my body. I know instantly that it is the demon's magic, writhing and worming its way through me.

Don't fight it. Don't fight it. Don't fight it.

An itch starts at the back of my neck, spreading down my spine and across my back and down my arms and legs. It is not painful, but it itches more and more terribly with each passing second. I clench my fists tighter and tighter as it takes every shred of willpower not to scratch.

Then, so abruptly that it makes me gasp, the feeling is gone and I am left blessedly warm. I can still feel the chill of the wind, but it is a distant discomfort now, as if I really were wearing a thick winter coat.

I crack my eyes open and look down to the backs of my hands. From beneath the sleeves of my dress pale silver-grey fur pokes out, with darker spots like the rosettes of a leopard.

“Oh,” the demon gasps. “Fascinating...”

She steps forward and rubs the back of a clawed finger against the exposed fur on my neck, sending a thrill through me and setting my heart racing.

“Such lovely fur,” she croons.

(next chapter)

#my writing #writers on tumblr #lesbian #transgender #fantasy #monster x human #transgender fairy tale #fairy tale #fantasy lesbians #fairy tale retelling #transformation #original fiction

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wersypoo · 5 months ago

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Lonely Star

The universe stretches endlessly, yet not in the way one might think. It is not a boundless expanse, but a fabric of spacetime, ever-growing, ever-shifting, a cosmic breath unfolding upon itself. We exist somewhere between dimensions, caught between what is seen and what is only felt. But cosmic objects perceive existence quite differently, don’t they?

Radiant, a furnace of beaming gold and heavenly fire, that is our Sun. But can we truly call it beautiful? We cannot even gaze upon it without being burned. Perhaps its beauty lies in the moments it is not itself - when it kisses the horizon, dissolving into hues of rose, ember, and indigo, painting the sky with the remnants of scattered light. A Ballad of refractions and chemical reactions, a final gift before it vanishes beyond the curve of the world.

And yet, despite its brilliance, the sun feels an ache. It has given light for billions of years, but no one has ever truly seen it. Not directly, not without shielding their eyes, not without looking away. It wonders - can something that blinds ever be called beautiful? Can something that burns ever be loved?

But the planets, wrapped in their own quiet sorrows, have little comfort to offer.

Mercury, the smallest of them all, sighs. "You may feel unseen, but at least you exist as a giant. I am but a speck, a whisper of a world, so close to you that I am scorched and shrinking, in comparison to you. I wish I were larger, something more than just a fleeting shadow in your fire."

Venus, veiled in swirling poison, murmurs, "I wish I were not suffocating in my own brilliance. My clouds shine like polished pearl, but beneath them, I am a furnace of despair. If only I could breathe. If only I could be so much as a bit cold, even for a moment."

Earth, Silent. It does not answer right away, as if hesitating. "I'm a bearer of life, with oceans, mountains, rain, and wind. And yet… You think to carry all the life, all the hope is graceful? Perhaps. But to feel it? To hear it? To watch it grow… and then wither? I am home to children who love me, yet they destroy me. I hold within me billions of dreams, and billions of disappointments. And still, I continue to orbit"

Mars, rust-red and barren, grumbles, "You lament that no one truly sees you? I am seen - oh, I am stared at, examined, probed. Yet I am dead. My rivers have dried, my skin is cracked, and my bones hum with radiation. If only I could feel life again."

Jupiter, the great storm-bearer, speaks then too "You speak of isolation, but at least you are whole. I am a tempest without a surface, a kingdom without land. My heart is a secret, buried in crushing clouds, lost to the storm that never ends."

Saturn, adorned with rings of ice, muses, "I am beautiful, they say. I am admired. And yet, my adornments are not my own. I am nothing but a ghostly core, wrapped in borrowed light, encircled by what does not belong to me. If I lost my rings, would anyone still look my way?"

Uranus, tilted and distant, sighs, "I am forgotten. I spin sideways in an endless twilight, neither day nor night, neither here nor there. My sorrow is the silence of being overlooked."

Neptune, whispering from the edge of the void, hums, "At least you have warmth. At least you glow. I am lost in the cold, in the endless deep, my storms howling into nothing, so far from everythin. Even my winds, the fastest in the solar system, cannot carry my voice far enough to be heard."

The Sun listens, Drowning under weight of silence, heavier then gravity. Its own pain feels small in the face of sadness of others. Perhaps it is not suffering as much as it thought. Perhaps it is only exaggerating something that is not worth dwelling on.

The first law of thermodynamics: Energy cannot be created or destroyed, only transformed. The Sun has been transforming, for so long, so terribly, painfully long... Giving itself away, devolving, breathing hydrogen

But what if it didn't want to breathe anymore... Would it feel better? Would it be able to look at?

And so, imagining it's dream coming true, it stopped. Its heart trying to ignite helium on it's own, lasting only a fraction of it's lifetime

Its core will shrink into a dense white dwarf, while its outer layers drift away into a nebula, a final kiss of light. Only just a glowing shell, shimmering for thousands of years. The Sun, scattered among the cosmos, will look upon it one last time, fragmented in space, before dissolving into nothing

Ashes of something, in hopes to be seen, to be beatiful, a lonely star, once was

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sunnywithlotsoflove · 5 months ago

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Title: The Skin of a Killer (But Sparkly)

Word Count: 1,999

Summary: Bella's sister decides to annoy Edward, even though he hates it.

Warnings: My bad writing but besides that nothing it's honestly just fluffy and Edward getting annoyed

Notes: This is my first fic, so I'm sorry if it sucks and I love yall ❤️❤️❤️

♡-----♡

It all started with an innocent thought.

"Edward was so dramatic when he revealed himself to Bella," I said, sprawled across Alice’s bed.

Alice snorted. “You just realized that?”“No, but I think it deserves a reenactment.”Alice perked up, intrigued. “Go on.”

I grinned. “What if I cover myself in glitter, step into the sunlight, and dramatically quote him? Bonus points if I play Shine Bright Like a Diamond in the background.”

There was a moment of silence.Then, Alice screamed in delight.“Oh, we have to do this.”

♡-----♡

That’s how I found myself standing in the middle of the Cullen’s backyard, absolutely drenched in glitter.

The sun hit my skin, making me sparkle like a human disco ball.And in my hand? A Bluetooth speaker.I pressed play.Shine bright like a diamond…

Rihanna’s voice filled the air just as Edward walked outside.I spread my arms dramatically.“BEHOLD,” I announced. “THIS IS THE SKIN OF A KILLER, BELLA!”

Bella wheezed.Alice collapsed.Rosalie pinched the bridge of her nose like she was getting a migraine.

Jasper chuckled, shaking his head.But Emmett? Oh, Emmett loved it.“OH MY GOD,” he howled. “THIS IS AMAZING.”

Meanwhile, Edward just stood there. Blinking. Processing. Probably debating whether or not to throw me into the nearest tree."This," he said flatly, "is ridiculous."

I gasped, clutching my chest in mock offense. "Edward, how dare you? I am merely demonstrating my natural monstrous beauty.”I turned slightly, catching the sunlight at just the right angle.

Alice was now crying from laughter.Shine bright like a diamond…The song continued as I took a slow, exaggerated step forward.

I locked eyes with Edward.“As if you could outrun me.”Bella lost it.She fell to her knees, gasping for air between fits of laughter.

“Oh my God,” she wheezed, “this is—this is the best thing I’ve ever seen—”Emmett clapped his hands like a delighted child. “CAN WE KEEP HER?”Edward, looking as though he regretted every decision that led to this moment, exhaled sharply. “I hate you.”

"Love you too, Eddie.”Rosalie finally groaned. “You do realize we shine too, right? This is technically offensive.”I shrugged. “Collateral damage.”

Jasper chuckled. “I respect the commitment.”“Oh, I fully committed.”

I unzipped my hoodie and yanked it off, revealing my glittery shirt beneath.Alice screamed.Rosalie groaned. “You got it everywhere.”

“That’s the point.”Edward buried his face in his hands.I grinned. “Edward, I’d be happy to share my glitter stash.”“I would rather throw myself into the sun.”

“Bold of you to assume that would do anything.”Emmett wheeze-laughed. “OH MY GOD, SHE GOT YOU AGAIN.”And just when Edward thought his suffering was over—

Jacob walked in. He froze. His expression went from neutral to utterly horrified in a matter of seconds."What. The. Hell."

I turned to him with a blinding smile. “Welcome to the real reason Bella fell for Edward.”Jacob’s eyes glistemed with amused. “This is hilarious.”

Edward sighed. “Im going to kill you.”Jacob laughted at him. “You let her do this?”Edward scoffed. “Do you honestly think I had a say in this?”

I smirked. “I am my own chaotic entity, thank you very much". You, y/n, are getting better by the day" Jacob stated.

I rolled my eyes. “Why thank you kind sir.”Rosalie scowled. "This is stupid." I gasped, clutching my chest. “How dare you disrespect my art?”Edward rubbed his temples. “This is giving me a headache.”

“Good. Suffer.” I said as Alice cackled. "I'm done" Rosalie started as she left.“Great. Now, if you’ll excuse me—”I hit play again.

SHINE BRIGHT LIKE A DIAMOND…

Bella died laughing. Edward just sighed. “I need a break from all of you.” Emmett wiped away a fake tear. “This was the best day ever.”

♡----♡

Sorry if this sucks this is my first fanfic EVER, so it probably suck I've had this idea in my head for a while, so I finally decided to put it down and ya I hope you guys enjoyed it. LOVE YOU ALL HAVE AN AMAZING DAY❤️❤️❤️

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featherlight-touches · 8 months ago

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Ik I'm obsessed but, can you do a lee!cyno?.With any ler you want!

Feel free to ignore and take your time :D

thank you so much for your request! and I'm sorry it's a little late. Here is a smol lee!Cyno and ler!Tighnari scenario for you! I hope you enjoy.

★・・・★・・・★・・・★

Tighnari couldn't help but smile to himself as he gently dabbed at the small cut on Cyno's side, the light-haired General squirming and giggling beneath his touch.

"Cyno, please, I need you to stay still," Tighnari chided lightly, though there was a note of amusement in his voice.

"I'm trying!" Cyno managed to get out between giggles, his face flushed and eyes bright with mirth. "But it tickles!”

Tighnari shook his head fondly, knowing just how ticklish Cyno was. In fact, he was probably one of the only ones who knew this fact about him. Him, Cyrus, Lisa, Kaveh and Alhaitham. However, Tighnari was probably the only one who got to see Cyno break down into giggles from the playful act.

Tighnari hadn't quite anticipated just how much the man would wriggle around as he tried to clean and dress the wound. Every light brush of his fingers against Cyno's skin elicited another round of breathy laughter and fidgeting.

“Do you act like this when you’re treated back at the Akademiya?” Tighnari mused playfully, pausing his treatment so Cyno could catch his breath.

“Of course not,” he looked down to check just how much of the treatment had been completed, noting that it was not yet finished. “I can’t afford to lose my composure in front of them.”

“So, you only come to me when you want to be a pain, huh? Good to know.”

“I’m sorry,” Cyno shifted in a better position to compose himself better for Tighnari’s treatment. “I will do better to sit still for you.”

Tighnari didn’t believe him, his narrow-eyed expression giving that away without him having to say a word. He brought his cleaning cloth back to the cut on Cyno’s side to finish cleaning it and was met with an immediate huff of laughter.

Tighnari shook his head fondly, marvelling at how Cyno could be so stoic and composed in public, yet so openly giddy and playful when it was just the two of them. It made him feel special, at least.

With an exaggerated sigh of exasperation that didn't quite mask his smile, the forest ranger redoubled his efforts to treat Cyno's injury as efficiently as possible, working deftly even as Cyno squirmed and laughed.

“Are you – ahaha! - done yet?” Cyno howled.

“There. All clean.” Tighnari finished up the cleaning and began placing a bandage over the small cut to keep it from getting infected, which fortunately didn’t clean the General as much, giving him a chance to breath. “You made that way harder than it needed to be, you know?”

“Sorry,” Cyno repeated, looking down at his side that now had the bandage. “Thank you for helping me though.”

“Of course,” Tighnari smiled as he placed his equipment back into the box it came in and strolled across the room to place it back on the shelf. “Maybe next time, try not to get injured in ticklish spots. Or better yet, at all.”

“I’ll try and keep that in mind,” Cyno chuckled. “Though I can’t promise anything.”

“No, I suppose not,” Tighnari sighed, sounding a tad bitter about it. “How long do you plan on staying?”

“I am not needed for until the day after tomorrow. I was hoping that I could-”

“I’ll get dinner started in that case,” Tighnari’s tail wagged, giving away just how thrilled he was to spend some time with him. “If you’re feeling up to it, you can help me.”

“A tiny scratch isn’t going to stop me.”

#genshin impact tickling #genshin tickles #tighnari #cyno #lee!cyno #ler!tighnari #thank you for the request

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aftertheapplause · 7 months ago

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The Importance of Being Earnest @ Lyttelton Theatre (NT) │ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

I have seen a lot of productions put on by the National Theatre over the years, and they are all of the highest quality. However this revival of Oscar Wilde's classic and renowned farce may be one of the best productions I have ever had the joy of seeing.

I always worry when I see that a show is completely sold out before the previews, it seemed like getting a seat for The Importance Of Being Earnest was the hot ticket of the west end (and the previews hadn't even started yet!)

I got into the auditorium and was greeted by this humongous and extravagant set that seemed like it had been ripped out of Bridgerton and plonked onto the Lyttelton Stage. The suspended handbag in front of the opening curtain also got some chuckles from the arriving spectators who got the reference. As the curtain rises we see Ncuti Gatwa's Algernon sat at the piano in a pink dress (which got some cheers from his fanbase present), we see the portrayal of one of the central themes of the play- that of the double life. I have to say that Webster's decision to turn up the campness of this play from around a four to a ten is a superbly successful choice that really does make the production unique.

I am such a big fan of Ncuti Gatwa, he is an incredibly talented performer who brings his own twist to every role he plays. His portrayal of Algernon is splendid, an upper class young man who will not be constrained by the barriers and order of society. His on-stage bromance with his friend Jack/John Worthing, played by the hilarious Hugh Skinner, is very comedic and they play off each other very well. Hugh Skinner seems perfect for the role of Jack and he completely steals the show in certain scenes mostly due to his clever comedic expression and over exaggerated gestures. Ronkẹ Adékọluẹ́jọ́ is a joy to watch as Gwendolen Fairfax, especially toward the end of the play as it seems she grows into the role and some of her facial expressions had me howling with laughter. Eliza Scanlen plays Jack's ward Cecily and she plays it excellently as well, the characters childish remarks pair well with Scanlens portrayal and her ad libbed line in the final scene received riotous laughter!

Then finally is the amazing Sharon D Clarke as Lady Bracknell, I love their choice to have Bracknell with a carribean accent as it truly does make some of her already iconic lines even better! Everything from her posture all the way to the way she walks onto the stage to introduce herself to the audience is perfect and the whole audience knows it too with a loud cheer to greet her as she comes on stage.

I almost forgot to mention Julian Bleach's masterclass in physical comedy as Merriman and Lane (he was also an audience favourite) and Richard Cant and Amanda Lawrence's unashamedly awkward relationship as Reverend Canon and Miss Prism. All three deliver superb performances to accompany the main cast in this comedic triumph.

MY VERDICT:

As the curtain rose and the actors came out I was in absolute awe of what I had watched. I was worried that some of the jokes would fly over my teenage head but was delighted when they slapped me right around the face and left me giggling the entire performance! The National Theatre have managed to assemble the perfect cast, who compliment each other in every possible way and completely deserve the sold out run that they have received.

Max Webster's direction steers this revival in the right direction completely, alongside the lavish set and costume of Rae Smith. It is a brilliant production that will live long in my memory!

Whilst I wish I could name them all my 3 standout performers were Ncuti Gatwa, Sharon D Clarke and Julian Bleach

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

The Importance Of Being Earnest is playing at the Lyttelton theatre until the 25th January, whilst most nights are sold out there are often returns so I urge you to keep checking! After its run in the theatre it will be in cinemas from February 2025.

#ncuti gatwa #theatre #hugh skinner #the importance of being earnest #national theatre #oscar wilde #classic play #5 star review #theatre blog

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marilynthornhilllover · 1 year ago

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When you call my name. do you think I'll come running? { chapter 7}

+ If i only could I'd make a deal with God I'd get him to swap our places.

Alcina dimitrescu x fem!Reader

Warning: pre-grief, depression, slight sadness, extreme rage, LOTS of angst, extreme plot twist, talk of suicide, slight fluff. { read chapter 6 here }

A/n: I just wanted to start off by saying thank you to the people who showed utmost appreciation to this series and interest of it continuing! I never actually thought this series would hit it off! And it warms my heart to know so many of you are interested and it has captured the attention of your heart! Sorry for the long wait in chapter update! I know it's been almost five months since i last posted CH. 6 and I sincerely apologize! :). This is a bit lengthy so I had to split it into two parts so, chapter 8 will be a bit short!! Love you guys enjoy!!.

Today no one spoke..... no one moved.... no one even dared to blink or breathe too hard. If you were ever to be caught dead in the sight of Lady Dimitrescu who knows what she might do to you..... Perhaps Rip you in half?, shred you to pieces?, pull your throat out?..... well no one wanted to be a human experiment, therefore everyone kept their distance away from the lady and her personal space. Her rage is not one to be tested and neither is her faith. She's like a lion, sly in the shadows but dangerous in light, she couldn't be trusted then and certainly not now. Ever since you left she's been acting as a fish out of water.

She never left her office or the castle itself and when she did, no one could be able to point out her emotions. She'd always dress in her usual formal black dresses and Veil hats that covered three quarters of her face. Her elegant walk and perfectly fitted gloves, only God knew what monster hid behind the poker face of 'Countess Dimitrescu' .

The entire castle was silent - completely silent. You could hear a pin drop. Make noise and your dead, make one slip up and show weakness or incompetence and your also dead, no one wanted to be alive in the same place where " Countess Alcina Dimitrescu " also lived. The villagers who'd usually bring fresh food and fruits to the castle heard of the matter and started delivering their pastries at the back door, too terrified of the wrath she held for anyone who may know what she's going through or even the smallest detail of your whereabouts.

It was a mad house at castle dimitrescu, maids started whispering rumors and stories of how the lady was going completely mad and turning into some sort of witch or dragon - if that's even possible, at night. Some say she flys over the village howling and puffing looking for her.... lost one.... but that's not true..... right?.....

It was 10:05 am, the lady drinks tea at 10:00 am, the lady's tea is five minutes late.... why because the poor little tiny girl who's job is to bring the raven hair goddess tea is scared out of her mind to so much as to stand infront of her door, she's done this a million times, so what's holding her back now? Maybe the fact that no one knows where her fate might lie after the woman opens the door, perhaps only mother miranda will know.... but she's a topic for another time.....

The girl took slow strides walking up to the lady's door as the tray that laid in her hand containing the lady's tea shook vigorously as a result of her nervous system failing her, cold sweat dripped from her forehead as her lips quivered and shook.

One

Two

Three

Knock, knock

Her shaking palms returned to her side as she sighed a breath of pure fright. For two long , minutes there was complete silence, no movement, no breathing, no sign of other recreations, nothing, absolutely nothing. And just as she was about to leave, hoping the lady thought her ears deceived her, there were loud thudding foot steps. No exaggeration used, the tall woman's footsteps were loud and massive. They spoke of frustration and pure rage. The young girl then again started struggling to breathe.

As the footsteps got louder and closer she managed to bow her head just in time when the lady opened the door. Suddenly the girl was taken back when an impossibly human surviving air hit her skin. The air was cold and thick, she could easily tell that the lady in fact hadn't left her room in a while and there was no ventilation happening in there. It felt as if someone had truly died, as if all life was lost, and the world had truly ended and all love was forgotten.

" yes, what is it, can't you see I'm busy?!" her voice was cold, brutal and hoarse, it showed no sign of life, love or even integrity , instead she sounded bitter and cold as, if she was the first person to ever be born on earth and everyone else were just a burden or her just her unwanted ornaments.

" f- forgive m- me my lady i-if I'm wrong but- you have wine with your b- breakfast, and tea in t- the mid afternoon, m- my lady" she wasn't wrong... in fact she's one hundred percent correct, but when your life is at stake you try to minimize your talking and smart mouthing - simply being correct. Again there was a long pause of utter silence. The girl couldn't even hear the lady breathe above her , it was as if she wasn't there at all, if she wasn't quite literally staring at her heels she would have believed she had returned inside.

Besides from that she couldn't even hear herself breathe, she minimized her heart beat and lungs respiration so low that it felt as if she was dying, her chest started to burn, it was as if she wasn't breathing at all. The girl heard a sigh of frustration before a loud slam of the door infront of her.

Well.... it's better than having your throat ripped out and being made into fine Romanian wine then being sold to the market.

Alcina sniffed walking back towards her desk. she held onto the rim of it for emotional support. She bit her lip as it quivered, while fighting back tears. Your voice rang through her mind, you were like a ghost, invisible with high amount of impact but held powerful memories. Alcina couldn't function or focus the way she should be. You were the only thing she thought about, the only person she ever truly loved or cared about besides her daughters. And to have you pulled out of her life by the hands of the person she hated so greatly made her feel as an failure even more.

It ate away at her heart to know that if you had died - as miranda said you did, that means that you spent the last few minutes of your life probably cold and afraid, thinking that it was her fault. But regardless, what ate her up the most was the fact that you died with holding her hand, without her being by your side until you took your last breathe. It wasn't fair, and it was her fault. It is her fault. After all she is a monster.

' Monster '

' Your a monster '

' No one loves you '

' Your the reason she's d- '

" SHUT UP" alcina picked up her vanity and threw it across the room with great power, breaking it in half and slightly cracking the floor of her office. That's definitely gonna need fixing.... which means someone will have to visit the castle. She didn't want any guests or company, not because of the rumors, or the uneasiness you felt as soon as you stepped foot into the palace, no alcina was bigger than that, what she wasn't bigger than was herself.

Not her literally self, the one she saw when she looked into the mirror, the one she felt 24/7 weighing down her shoulders, the one she heard most of the time.....her entire life, the one she felt deeply inside waiting to be unleashed, to be able to set the world ablaze and get rid of all human beings. The one she was called...... a monster..... this part of her..... this was the part she wasn't bigger than.

No matter how much she tried, no matter how much she fought..... it ate her up inside..... her inner soul was bruised, scared, busted, call it what you want, but the truth was she fought to keep the outside going strong and tall. While the fire was running low she fought to keep herself elegant and up right. Good Posture, perfect teeth, phenomenal business, respected name. All of it was just a show that people got to tell. What people failed to realize was that although Alcina may be dead on the inside..... she's still human.....

She still loved... she's still cared, for God's sake. This was the part of her she just couldn't get rid of. The weight of it all soon caught up to her and it and not light at all.

She missed you.... so so much, beyond explanation.... beyond belief.... she loved you, every part, your smile, your hair, the way you'd do a little nose scrunch when she tackled you onto the bed, your laugher, your dramatic side eyes when she said something that didn't quite suit your style. She cared for you.... so damn much too. Cared if you ate, if you slept, if you were happy.... and now you were gone.... erased from her memories, from her life.

She longed for you....

You stired as you slowly opened your eyes to see daylight. You blinked rapidly trying to clear your eyes and refocus your vision. After a while of low steady breathing you were finally able to open your eyes completely and take hold of your surroundings. The room was small, it reminded you of the vintage times. It was raged with cigarette smoke and burning medicine plants - too much burning medicine plants. The room wasn't clean but it also wasn't the tidest.

There was a small bed on which you laid on and another which was empty, there was another room connected to the room that you were in that had a beaded curtain handing before the entrance. From the view that you were sitting you could see an old woman slowly moving her hips side to side as she hummed softly to a playing jazz music that your ears couldn't yet pick up. You coughed as you tried to get up slowly, you instantly felt excruciating pain all over your body.

You fell back sobbing as your hands felt utterly weak. You heard small foot steps before seeing a familiar face. It was Carmen. Your mom's old yoga and herb cooking buddy. A small warm smile was plasted on her face as she sat on the stool infront of you.

" Easy now child, you don't want to make this wound worst" she spoke, her voice cracky and faint. She was dressed in a light pink night gown and a soft brown head band with her hair braided in a fish braid. She gently dipped a wash cloth in a bowl of green like liquid before gently pressing it to your wound that was located on your hip. You whimpered softly at the slight stinking sensation before it disappeared as quickly as it appeared. After multiple wips of her cleaning the wound she placed a badge on it.

" thank you carmen" you mumbled, your voice also being raspy from using for the fisrt time since God knows when. The elder woman smile before waving you off with her hand. She got up and and went back into the kitchen.

" how did I end up here?" You asked her before standing since you felt a bit more better now. You heard her chuckle before hearing some pans clack together.

" I found you laying in the forest the other day when I went out to pick berries, you were all cut up and bruised, could have swore you were a zombie or perhaps even a lycan" she laughed before emerging from the kitchen and into another room. You Curiously followed her just to find four small but widthful shelves of books.

She bent down groaning slightly before taking out some books and dusting them off and replacing them, continuing the step for others.

" I hoped you'd wake up soon, when I found you, you had only a faint pulse that lasted every twelve seconds, you were basically half dead. Anyway I need to go to the market, i'm sure you can fend for yourself, you did just fine, God knows how you ended up 36 miles out into the woods" you froze..... did she just say 36 miles..... into the woods....

" am I in south Romanian?!" You asked a bit too loudly. Carmen looked up at you with raised eyebrows.

" yes.... did you forget you and your mother use to hop the river to come visit me for my birthday? Silly girl, yes south Romanian, mother Miranda's old village, the one she used to rule over? Yes my dear" she moved towards the other selve and began packing.

" Carmen! Do you heard how crazy this sounds?! I live in north Romania, you know... where castle dimitrescu is?! " again your voice was on the raise and she didn't quite like it, but you didn't really care either. She sighed before getting up, she facial expression and body language completely changed into a colder one.

" have a seat child" you compiled before she sat infront if you with a very serious expression. She sighed before placing her hands down onto your thighs.

" your mother died y/n...." your eyes zoned and you swore you could hear your eyes ring as you heard your heart beat slow down. Carmen squeezed your thighs before continuing.

" it's a hard pill to swallow but you better do, my condolences my daughter" she said doing the sign of the cross. Your mother meant alot to you, she wasn't really a huge part of your life, you didn't even remember much of her. You remember being kidnapped from your house one night by mother miranda and seeing the terror on her face before you passed out, and seeing her in a dream once. You've lived in an orphanage for your entire life and that night was the first time that you got back your life to her.

That didn't meant you wouldn't miss her.... you just couldn't find a reason to miss her.... you barely even knew her to begin with.....

" you know that lady people said your in love with?.... you know.... tall, big vampire mommy lady with wings" you gaved her a sarcastic fake laugh before looking at her dead serious. She smirked before continuing.

" there was a rumor that she killed your mother....." you tilted your head to the right, trying to comprehend the information you just received. You shook your head before nervously laughing.

" No that's not true.... it was probably miranda but people are to scared to say that so they blame alcina, they always do that, trust me, miranda was the last person my mom saw so-" Carmen cut you off by shaking her head and tsking.

" No child..... your mother was killed six months ago... and if I'm not mistaken you were kidnapped and forced to work for this ' Alcina' almost two years ago.... look they said it was big boobs vampire lady, bird lady and some lady who's obsessed with carrying her doll everywhere" you were significantly frozened between reality and what carmen was telling you now - which would obviously be a lie.

No one is saying carmen is a lier but sometimes elderly people loss their minds as time goes by - especially is they love to gossip..... anway.... your mom is dead and you felt nothing, you don't even think you miss alcina, now that your away you feel.... nothing..... you don't miss her, part of you don't even seem to care if she's doing ok, it's as if you never loved her.... maybe your body is still in shook, carmen did say that you had been out for two days straight, maybe your sleep dprived and can't think straight or maybe........ no let's not go there.

Carmen could clearly see that you didn't believe her, getting her she sighed as she began to grab her belongs, shoes, shopping bags, bud spray and pepper spray.

" look child believe what you want, don't go cra cra over your mom too much, wishing on things that just weren't possible, i'm off, when I'm back maybe we can make cinnamon rolls and some soup to get you better" she smiled softly at you before leaving a small peck on your forehead then leaving. You decide that your going back to castle dimitrescu, you needed answers...... you demanded them..... and even if it's the last human thing that alcina is capable of doing she will give them to you.

You could feel it in your heart that you were drifting away from alcina..... that spark that you once felt.... that burning passion.... that burning love.... gone....

You didn't have any belongs at Carmen's but you walked with some of her stuff, like water, little protein bars, bud spray and a knife. You left her a note thanking her for her utmost compassion and kindness upon you before starting your very very long journey....

TAG LIST : @willalovexx @ilovehugslikealotalot @milkiedimitrescu @willowshadenox @enchantressb @moisblofish, @nclgsticore @vampire-s61914 @snkskyler15 @milkkyshakeez @luisa323 . If you wish to be apart of the tag list for the next up coming chapters please comment below :) <3

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