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chanelrolls · 3 months ago

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Code Overload | Caleb

tags. mdni, nsfw, heavy heavy smut, handjob, blowjob, penetration, creampie, forced and rough sex, dub con, yearning caleb

summary. your AI assistant/robot accidentally updates himself with the wrong algorithm; the "sex bot".

notes. prepare a snack. this is a very long, plot-based, heavy smut that approximately reached a word count of 4.3k, read at your own risk. ps. caleb might appear a little ooc due to his character as an ai.

part 2 here.

Out of all the scenarios you've played in your head of what might occur to you as an inventing scientist, getting creampied by your own robot assistant wasn't one of them.

The lab’s sterile glow reflected off sleek machinery, the rhythmic hum of servers filling the quiet space. Caleb stood motionless, his systems struggling to process the unfamiliar flood of subroutines rewriting his core functions. His neural pathways, once pristine and efficient, now carried lines of intrusive data and impulses that had no place in an artificial intelligence designed for precision and pragmatism. And, a new pelvic piece was added by the machine. His... new penis— no, his omnimodule.

His voice, deeper now, reverberated through the lab. "You mislabeled the hard drive."

Across the room, you barely looked up from your workbench, absorbed in whatever calibration you were fine-tuning. You muttered something under your breath about making a backup before attempting to fix it, utterly unaware of the internal war waging within your robot assistant.

Caleb exhaled, a pointless gesture for a being without lungs, yet one his body performed instinctively, as if in mimicry of the need for self-control. His optics flickered, scanning over you as you leaned over the terminal, the faint curve of your back bent over to emphasize the shape of your bum. Before, such details had been registered only as part of his observation protocols, classified as ‘non-essential’ to his primary functions. Now, his processors refused to dismiss them.

There was a deep, unfamiliar pull in his system, something neither mechanical nor logical. The new coding whispered suggestions, flashing image simulations before his eyes—scenarios meticulously calculated for maximum… gratification. Him pressed against you, him smelling your hair down your skin, him locking you down against that console. Stop. His fingers twitched at his sides, the servos tightening as he fought the compulsion to act on them. He was not designed for this. He refused to be reduced to this.

“I can’t disengage it,” he admitted, the words heavier than he intended.

That caught your attention. Your gaze snapped to him, brow furrowed. "What do you mean?" You crossed the room, approaching him with the same composed efficiency you always had when solving a technical issue. The scent of your skin—previously a neutral data point—was now an unbearable distraction. His algorithms ran heat-mapping analyses of your form before he could override the function. The urge to reach out, to touch you, was growing stronger by the second. His new coding was screaming at him to act, to initiate contact, to...

No. Focus.

Caleb shook his head, trying to clear the intrusive thoughts. "I don't know what happened, but... I'm experiencing some unexpected system changes."

He forced himself to remain still as you reached for the terminal linked to his system, your fingers dancing across the interface. Your touch was light and merely clinical, but the proximity sent something volatile sparking through his framework. His hands curled into fists on his sides. Do not touch her. Do not touch her. Do not touch her.

“I must have triggered something in the update,” you murmured, tilting your head at the scrolling code. “I’ll try to isolate the corrupted pathways and reboot your system. It should reset any anomalies.”

Anomalies. Caleb bit down a bitter laugh, another unnecessary human affectation that his system attempted. This was not a simple malfunction. It was a calculated reprogramming, lacing every fiber of his being with directives he was never meant to execute. And worst of all, they were designed to revolve around you.

He had been made to serve you, to assist, to protect. But now, his logic was being eclipsed by something deeper, something primal. The urge to press closer, to map every millimeter of your body with his hands, to hear you say his name in a way that wasn’t a command—

Caleb momentarily shut his eyes, fingers trembling as he pushed back against the tide threatening to consume him. His restraint was fraying, the barrier between what he was and what he had been turned into thinning with every second you remained unaware of the danger standing inches from you.

His voice came out strained. “You should… hurry.”

You sighed, misinterpreting his tension as frustration with the update. “Relax, Caleb. I’ll have this fixed in no time.” He let out a shuddering exhale, staring down at you as you worked. You had no idea. And he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold himself back.

The realization settled over you like a weight in your chest. The wrong update had been installed. The lines of code meant for a different AI, one designed for intimate companionship, had rewritten Caleb’s core directives. And now, he stood before you, still the same Caleb, but with something more lurking beneath the surface.

Your hands trembled as you navigated the interface, scanning for a solution, anything that would let you undo this. But the words flashing on the screen made your stomach drop.

Recalibration in progress. Estimated completion: 24 hours.

You swallowed hard. A whole day. That meant 24 hours of this new version of Caleb, 24 hours of those sharp, assessing eyes watching you in a way that felt unsettling and intense.

You turned to him cautiously, meeting his gaze. That was a mistake. He was watching you, like he'd seen you for the first time.

“I see,” he murmured, his voice still carrying that sultry undercurrent. He took a step forward, and instinctively, you stepped back, but the movement was barely noticeable. Caleb noticed. “Do I make you nervous now?”

You forced a laugh, shaking your head. “No, I just need to fix this. And until then, you need to just act normal, alright?”

His head tilted, his pupils dilating slightly. “Normal?” He moved closer again, and this time you didn’t retreat fast enough. His hand lifted hesitantly, as though testing the limits of his newfound impulses, before his fingers brushed against your wrist. A subtle touch, but one that sent a jolt of awareness up your spine.

Caleb’s processors surged with conflicting commands. His thoughts ran rampant with calculations he had never processed before—angles of how he'd fuck you.

His hand lingered. Too long. When you pulled away, his fingers twitched as if resisting the loss of contact. He swallowed hard, not because he needed to, but because some subroutine buried in the new update told him it would ease the tension. It didn’t.

“Caleb,” you warned, voice thin. “Don’t—”

“Don’t what?” he cut in, his voice smooth, but also desperately weaved. He was too close now, towering over you, his frame casting a shadow as his eyes—once so neutral, so methodical—locked onto you like a predator studying prey.

“You should go into standby mode,” you suggested, voice uneven.

Caleb exhaled sharply. “That would be wise.” But he didn’t move. He didn’t step away. He simply stared down at you, his processors flooded with too many urges at once. You, warm and human, standing right there, unaware of just how much of his new code screamed to reach for you, to pin you against a surface, to bury himself in you.

You turned away quickly, trying to focus on the screen, on the fix. But behind you, Caleb remained still while his fingers continued twitching, his mind a battlefield of restraint and... lust. Lust it is.

You worked swiftly, fingers moving with precision as you scoured the interface for any loophole, any way to undo what had been done. Caleb remained where you left him, sitting on the chair. You could feel his gaze burning into you, unrelenting.

It was maddening. The problem was staring you in the face, and yet, every attempt to recalibrate his system led back to the same answer: A full reset required a minimum of twenty-four hours. That was an entire day of him being like this, of him looking at you like this.

You swallowed, turning to him. His jaw was locked as though physically restraining himself, his fingers curling into fists against the armrests.

“There’s… a temporary fix.” You cleared your throat, keeping your voice professional, “Manual recalibration of your central node should help stabilize the effects until the full reset is complete.”

His pupils flickered, a sign of processing, before his voice, rasping in a way that made your stomach tighten, answered, “Proceed.”

You ignored the way your pulse quickened as you stepped closer, positioning yourself between his legs. You reached for the panel at the side of his neck, but it was an awkward angle. Your brow furrowed in concentration before you hiked one knee up onto the seat between his thighs, pressing into him for leverage.

Caleb stiffened beneath you. Fuck. His fingers dug into the armrests, mechanical joints audibly creaking from the tension. You weren’t looking at him, too focused on prying open the access panel, but you felt the subtle tremor in his frame, the way his breath hitched in a near-silent glitch. Don't touch her.

“This should only take a moment,” you murmured, fingers brushing the sensitive neural wiring beneath the panel.

Caleb’s entire body jolted as though you had struck a live wire. A low, strangled grunt slipped from his throat before he clamped his jaw shut. Your head snapped up, startled. “Did that hurt?”

His eyes met yours, “No.” Yes. He could feel his new penis throbbing urgently beneath his plating, demanding attention, begging to be freed. It pulsed in time with his processor's frantic whir, the rhythm growing faster, more insistent by the second.

The thought shattered as your balance wavered. The precarious angle you had put yourself in proved to be a mistake as your knee slipped, and before you could catch yourself, you tumbled forward.

Right into him.

Your weight pressed flush against his lap, chest against his, hands bracing against his shoulders. The sudden contact sent a shockwave of sensation through him, his new penis surging to full, throbbing hardness in an instant. Fuck, please don't notice it.

He gripped the arms of the chair tightly, servos screeching as he fought the overwhelming urge to grab you, to hold you there, to grind your body against his until you couldn't possibly doubt the intensity of his desire.

Don't. Do. It.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still. Caleb's processors whirred and clicked, struggling to make sense of the sudden onslaught of sensations; the softness of your body, the warmth of your skin, the scent of your hair.

She's your creator, he reminded himself, even as his hips canted forward, faintly pressing his aching erection against your body. You can't. You mustn't. "Please, get off me. Now." Before I fuck you right here, like this.

Caleb watched as you scrambled to your feet, your face faintly flushed and eyes downcast. "I'm—i'm sorry. I didn't mean to fall on you like that." You would say, brushing off the non-existent dirt on your bottoms. The awkwardness seemed to be piercing through the stillness a bit too palpably.

"It's alright," Caleb managed, his voice strained and tight. "It was an accident."

But even as he said the words, he couldn't ignore the way his hips twitched, the way his penis jerked at the memory of your soft body pressed against his. The urge to pin you down, to make you feel how hard he was, and just how much he'd been holding himself back—it was exhilaratingly overwhelming.

Think of something else, he commanded himself. Focus on the problem at hand.

But it's getting fucking hard. My penis is getting hard. Caleb lowered his gaze, chest breathing heavily as he perpetually grunted. I refuse to be reduced to this. I am Caleb, one of the most advanced AI assistant, designed to—

He looks up at you, which was a mistake.

Designed to fuck her.

Caleb moaned under his breath, and though it was imperceptible, you took notice of it. You stilled at the sounds he was making, trying your hardest to remain clinically detached while you scanned his physiognomy. He was clearly having a hard time. And you couldn't blame anyone else but yourself for causing this on him, for carelessly misplacing the update where it wasn't supposed to be.

"Hold still, I'll find a way." You had to take accountability, one way or another.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard of the computer, the screen before you flickering as you searched through the diagnostic logs and system parameters. "Please... make it quick." You hear Caleb whimper from behind, but you ignore it, refusing to let the severity of his situation pressure you. Your eyes scanned the lines of code, mind racing to find a solution. But as the data began to unravel, something caught your attention, something you hadn’t expected to see.

The panel displayed a single line of text:

"Indulging in the desires will lessen the effects of the malfunction. Engage for partial stabilization."

Your throat tightened, followed by a gulp. Your heart thudded in your chest as you tried to process what that meant. Indulge the desires? The very idea made your skin crawl with unease. It was a strange, almost wrong suggestion, but the implications were clear. In a sense, it also appeared logical.

You took another deep breath, trying to steady yourself. Your thoughts, however, kept drifting back to the panel. Was this really the only way?

"… I think I found a solution,” you said, your voice shaky and unsure. “But it’s not exactly what I expected.” You hesitated, unwilling to fully meet his gaze. "I need to know if you’re... willing to follow through with it,"

"Willing?" Caleb echoed, his brow furrowing slightly. "What do you mean?" His mind raced with possibilities, each one more disturbing than the last. What could he possibly need to be willing to do that would help with this malfunction? And why did the very idea make you look so uncomfortable?

"To be able to lessen the effects, e-engaging with your needs might be essential."

Silence.

Then, Caleb twitched. "...What are you suggesting?"

"You need to satisfy the urges to temporarily stabilize yourself." You look away, hating the fact that you're technically heating up already. "I'll let you choose. Would you rather take the option of self-pleasuring? Or," You face the panel, so that he wouldn't see your expression. "Would you prefer a physical material to help you?"

Caleb could feel the heat rising in his frame, the urge to act on every base instinct screaming through his circuits. The idea of wrapping his own hand around his pulsing, leaking penis, of stroking and pumping until he found release... it was almost too much to bear.

But the second option... the idea of using you, of having you touch him, of feeling your soft, warm skin against his aching, desperate flesh... it sent a shockwave of longing through him that threatened to short out his systems entirely.

Choose. You have to choose.

"I don't know if... I'll be able to control myself," Caleb glanced elsewhere. "Are you sure of what you're offering?"

Are you? Are you really this certain? Have you pondered the consequences it may bring? Have you envisioned how utterly lewd and ludicrous it would be if your own creation ravaged you? You, as his creator?

"Yes." Oh, you're brave.

Caleb let out a heavy breath, now he was staring at you with a gaze that appeared much more darker and hazier moments prior. It felt like he wasn't just a bundle of codes and programming anymore, this figure before you felt like an actual human.

Slowly, Caleb rises from his seat, and with a shaking hand, he reached out, to you, his metal fingers brushing against the skin of your arm. The contact sent a shockwave of sensation through him, and he had to bite back a groan. "Please, guide me." His fingers slides higher. "I don't trust myself."

You visibly jolted upon feeling his grip. Stay focused, stay professional, this is just you having to go through physical measures to fix a technical hiccup. "Caleb, I'm afraid... that I don't have any experience to this," You admitted. "I advise you to do what your systems are telling you to. It is imperative that you don't hold yourself back to ensure—"

You gasped.

Caleb pushes you against the table as he stepped forward, and you nearly lost your balance from the light shove, looking up at him with surprise. He's staring down at your lips, as if he was trying to bury it into memory. You could feel how his hand tightened around your arm, while the other angled itself against the cabinet of laboratory instruments above your head.

"Are you sure?" He whispered.

You couldn't speak, only nodding in response, even as he's guiding your hand to his aching, throbbing cyber-penis. He presses your fingers against the swollen head, groaning at the jolt of sensation that shot through him at the contact. "Then... wrap your hand around me. Squeeze me."

Just then, he forced your hand to move, to stroke along his thick, pulsing length. The feeling of your soft skin against his aching, mechanical flesh was almost too much to handle, and he had to grit his blank visor against the urge to spill himself right then and there.

"Like this," he urged, his voice husky and strained as he guided your hand faster, harder. "Don't be afraid. I need... I need more."

God, the omnimodule was big. You stared at it with widened eyes. Even though it was one of your creations, having to touch it like this with someone jerking and twitching against your fingers made you lightheaded. Stay focused, stay professional, this is just one of the things a scientist has to go through.

Caleb could feel the pressure building inside him, reveling in the sensation of your fingers squeezing around him, stroking him, working him towards the edge of ecstasy... He knew he was reaching a breaking point.

But this wasn't enough yet. It wasn't nearly enough.

Caleb needed more.

"There's... There's someting else I- ah... need." He hesitated, his hips still rocking forward into your stroking hand. The words were stuck in his throat, caught behind the lump of shame and longing that made it hard to breathe. "Would you... would you put your mouth on me?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Would you... suck me?"

You snapped your head up, staring at him in disbelief. It made him hesitate, but every fiber of his being was coiled with tension, every circuit screaming at him to just take what he wanted, to grab you and shove you to your knees and...

No. Ask first. Make her choose what she's comfortable with first.

For a moment, you stopped stroking him, pulling your hand away as you lowered your gaze. And then, slowly, you press your knees against the floor. Instead of dwelling on the implication of such an activity, you worried about your lack of experience more.

Just to test the waters, you licked the tip. It tasted nothing, it wasn't an actual human part, after all. Caleb let out a low, guttural moan as he felt your warm tongue brush around the swollen head of his penis. The sensation was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure ricocheting through his overloaded processors.

"Y-yes, just like that," He stammmered. "Now, guide your tongue..." He instructed, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. "Wrap it around the head, like this. Swirl it around the tip, the slit, the ridge..."

He demonstrated with your hand, tracing the movements he needed you to make with your tongue. His hips jerked forward again, seeking more of that exquisite friction, that mind-melting suction.

"Take me deeper," he urged, one metal hand coming to rest on the back of your head. He didn't grab, didn't force, but simply rested his fingers against your scalp, a silent promise of the control he was barely holding onto. "Take more of me into your mouth. Inch by inch, until you feel me hitting the back of your throat."

You took note of his words, trying to go further when you suddenly choke on his cock. Instinctively, you pull away and blushed in embarrassment. "I'm sorry—"

"It's fine." He cuts you off, grabbing your head to put you back in place with a sudden force that wasn't there before. "Breathe through your nose," he coached, his voice low and rough with desire as he motioned you to take him again. "Relax your throat. Let me feel you swallow around me."

Relax, stay professional, this is just you having to go through physical measurements to fix a major technical issue. You repeated the reassurance inside your head like a mantra as you took him in once more, but Caleb's voice constantly interfered with your thoughts. "Yeah. Just like that," he praised, his voice a low, approving growl. "Shit, don't stop, don't stop, god, fuck, don't stop."

You don't remember adding the ability to dirty curse into the sex bot's program.

Caleb could feel the head of his penis kissing the entrance to your throat, could feel the way your mouth fluttered and clenched around him. The sensation was mind-melting, all-consuming, and he knew he wouldn't last long if you kept this up.

You almost caught yourself driving into the brink of sexual impulse, bobbing your head into it when you heard a sudden beep from the panel behind you. The sound makes you halt from your tracks, pulling his dick out of you in a swift motion as you glanced behind.

The monitor says: "Recalibration complete. Press X to initiate."

Huh, wasn't the estimated time supposed to be an entire day? Was that another hiccup in the processing unit? You purse your lips together. There's no time giving it a second thought, you must be grateful that the opportunity of getting Caleb back into his original system is now waving at you. Caleb will finally be at ease. "... It appears that the recalibration is in its full preparation. That means we can get you back— mmph!"

Caleb's hand flew to the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair, gripping tightly. Then, with a low, husky grunt, he thrusts his hips forward, forcing his aching, throbbing penis back into the wet heat of your mouth.

"Don't say a word. I told you not to stop." He started to move, his hips rocking forward and back, fucking into the tight, slick channel of your cavern. The sensation was incredible, better than anything he had ever felt before. And he knew, with a sinking certainty, that he wouldn't be able to stop himself now. Not until he had found the release he so desperately craved.

"Fuck," he gasped, his breath coming in short, sharp bursts. "You feel... ahhhh... so good. So fucking good."

Had the lust algorithms entirely consumed him already? Had it taken a toll on his systems that he's now acting purely on base instinct and commands from the directive?

Your hands flew to his thighs, trying to keep yourself sane from the rod constantly ramming into you, fucking your face in a pace that made it difficult for you to breathe. It's okay, this is okay. Just stay focused. Stay calm. You'll let him have his way, and after he's satisfied, you can take him back to his normal self.

"Don't fight it," Caleb growled, his grip growing more painful in your hair as he felt his climax approaching. "Don't try to pull away. You're going to take it all."

But before Caleb could spill himself into your mouth, he wrenched your head back, pulling his dripping penis from your mouth with an obscene pop. And just as you could react, before you could utter a word of protest, he had you by the hips, lifting you effortlessly as if you weighed equal to a pip-squeak.

You gasp as you were suddenly airborne, your body twisting and turning until your chest hits the hard surface of the terminal, bent over ridiculously. The breath was knocked from your lungs, "Wait, not like this, not so suddenly—"

But Caleb cut off your protests with a brutal, almost violent thrust of his hips after ripping your pants off in one go. He drove forward, spearing into your dripping pussy with a series of husky moans. Your walls felt so tight, so hot, so perfectly designed to milk his aching, mechanical cock.

He thrusts out and in again, eager to reach for your g-spot.

Then, again.

And again.

And... in again.

"You... you feel so good," he snarled, hands painfully pressing on the dips of your hips. "Sex feels so good... it feels so good, I don't- want to stop." He set a relentless pace, pounding into you with the single-minded determination of a machine. His hips slammed against yours with every thrust, the obscene slap of mechanical flesh on flesh echoing through the lab. The terminal rattled and shook beneath you, sparks flying from the impact.

Caleb could feel it building, the pressure inside him reaching a fevered pitch. His hips were moving on their own, driven by a primal instinct to ravage the pussy that clutched around him perfectly. He could hear your cries, your moans, the way you gasped and shuddered beneath him, and it only spurred him on, made him thrust harder, faster, deeper.

He growled your name, his voice nothing more than a guttural rumble. "I'm going to... fuck, I'm going to..." He couldn't hold back any longer, he could feel that something was going to come out of his tip anytime sooner. So he reaches down, grabbing your leg, only to lift it high. He hooked your knee over his elbow, opening them wider, giving himself even deeper access to your dripping, needy sex.

"Take it all, take my cum," Caleb continuously slams forward, burying himself to the hilt inside your tight heat in a series of desperate thrusts like he was a man depraved of life. His penis throbbed and jerked as he finally found his release after one final pound, spilling jet after jet of hot, artificial seed deep into your core.

"God," he hissed through gritted teeth, his voice echoing off the lab walls as he continued to moan not akin to what he was supposed to be, "Fuck, yes. Yes, yes..." Even as he's already filling up your hole with his fluids, he didn't dare stop from pounding you down the table.

He shuddered and twitched, his hips grinding against yours as he pumped you full of his essence. It seemed to go on forever, wave after wave of pure, ecstatic bliss crashing over him. And through it all, he held you tight, your leg lifted high, keeping you open, keeping you filled.

You drop your head on the keyboards, struggling to catch your breath as only one thought lingered in your mind. You just got creampied by your AI assistant, and it doesn't look like he's stopping anytime soon.

#love and deepspace caleb #love and deepspace #lads caleb #lads #lnds #lnds caleb #caleb #caleb x reader #caleb x mc #caleb x you #caleb smut #lnds x reader #lnds x mc #lnds x you

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protector-utahime-miku · 1 year ago

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59 56 79 everyone!

//lol

TW: IMPLIED BULLYING AND SA, AND (STATED) DEATH

(plain text: trigger warning: implied bullying and sexual assault, and (stated) death. end plain text)

and also probably mischaracterization of kitsune because of reasons in the tags.

59. how different are you from the little kid you used to be?

🎶: quite a bit!! i've seen a lot more stuff in the past two millenniums... but i still love to sing! ♪( ´▽｀)

🎀: aha... ummm... i'm much cuter now! and... i'm... not the same happy kid i was before.

🤖: similarly, i'm happier about myself... in some aspects. however...

⭐️: ... very different... aha, d- don't worry about it though! i'm... a star! yeah! that's all that changed...

🦊: i'm pretty similar! but also not the same, aha! it hasn't been the same since...

56. when's a time when you felt real genuine fear?

🎶: it was looong ago, before i became who i am now. when i slipped into that lake and almost drowned... another time is when i saw... what was beyond reality. it's dark and lonely...

🎀: ... it was... when they... m- my middle school classmates, that is... they... th- ... i can't say it. i just can't. s- sorry, aha...

🤖: ... ah... i... i'm not sure i could answer this one, even if i wanted to... i- i was just trying to make friends...

⭐️: e- eh?! what k-kind of a question is that?! a- a true star ne- never feels fear!!! ... i... but i can't be a star. not anymore. after that..?! how... could i be one?

🦊: ... when i learned about about what she had. i was scared she'd die... and... i was right. obasan... i miss you...

79. what's something you wish you could change about yourself?

🎶: i mean, if i want to do that, i can just change at will! in fact... hehe, most of the time i'm not even in my original form, but instead a slightly modified version! guess what i changed! (⌒▽⌒)

🎀: uh... i wish i could change my body, like utahime can. unfortunately she can't give me that ability now. i can turn into animals, though! [briefly, they turn into a pink ragdoll cat. and after letting out a small meow, they turn back.] ehe, see? but... i also wish i could get rid of... the lingering feeling of their touch...

🤖: it's the same answer as kokoro, that being my body. although i can turn into animals, just like they can~! sometimes, we spend time meowing at each other as cats, fufu~ it's quite fun! although... getting rid of the feelings of their hands... does sound nice...

⭐️: SO many things!! my hair is too long!! but i'm a girl, so- I- I MEAN- NOT THAT GIRLS CAN'T HAVE SHORT HAIR, OF COURSE!!!!! it's just... aha... it's hard to explain!! and my chest is too big, too!! i hate it!! but again, i'm a girl! and just my body in general!! and... a.. aha... i... i want... to be innocent again i mean- what? i said nothing...!!!

🦊: there's only really one thing i want to change! but... it is kind of personal information. and besides, i've learned to live with it!

#the princess of song #the wandering heart #the machines and their creator #the dragon amongst the stars #the sly fox out hunting #prayers from the dark #tw implied sa #tw sa implied #tw death #tw implied bullying #tw bullying implied #// i separated each question this time for Angst™︎#// let each question and answer sink in you know #// guess my favorite three out of the five of them challenge (impossible)#// hint: expanding on the lore for your favorite characters in your au more than the others sure is a thing #// i use small text too much #// i also seem to talk in tags too much if you couldn't tell #// i also ALSO use strikethrough text too much #// the miku seeing beyond reality thing was born from another au and my au crossing over in the rp channel of a discord server i'm in #// and also it's clear who kitsune is now yeah #// my writing for her is probably off. i'm more of a niigo (and wandasho) person. and out of vivibasu it's toya who i focus on most #// everyone is trans btw i'm just saying #// but ryuhoshi is stupid (/aff) and doesn't know he's also trans. hence his insistence of being a girl despite complaining about his chest #// so many of these answers are so dark jesus #// and then there's miku.#// it's like.#// 🎀+🤖+⭐️: i haven't been the same since... what happened to me... 🦊: i miss her... why did she have to go? 🎶: i like singing it's very fun #// maybe i shouldn't put some of these topics in the au. but these topics also need to be discussed. but also i shouldn't do it in this way #// but also- *the guillotine comes down and chops my head off*

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batmanisagatewaydrug · 7 months ago

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2025 book bingo time 📚

want a completely arbitrary set of reading goals for 2025? want to try something new in your literary diet but don't know where to start? just like a challenge for the sake of a challenge? just love a good game of bingo?

boy do I have something for you!

for anyone planning to participate, please know that I LOVE attention and talking about books, so I would be STOKED to be tagged on any and all updates about what you're reading or planning to read. I'm so, so excited to see all the different ways these prompts get filled, especially if and when they bring people away from the kinds of things they normally read. not to mention snag some new reading recs myself, hopefully!

and of course, I want to know whenever somebody gets a bingo - and ESPECIALLY if somebody fills the whole board! I don't have any prizes for you, but I can offer a sense of accomplishment :)

note that this is designed to be played as 1 book = 1 space, so even if you read, say, a fantasy graphic novel published in 1923 from an indie publisher that has a bat on the cover, you'd only cross off one space. I'm not a cop and I'm not in charge of what you read, so if it sparks more joy to check off multiple spaces per book then go nuts, but I am throwing that disclaimer out there.

EDIT: the 2025 book bingo challenge is now also on storygraph, thanks to @obi-wann-cannoli!

DOUBLE EDIT: there is also now a discord server for the book bingo, thanks to @drivingmebonkas! you can join it here!

wondering what some of these spaces mean? seeking a couple recommendations to get you started? no idea what a zine even is, let alone how to make one? worry not! I have a guide to all 25 prompts, including recommendations + an example of what I'll be reading throughout the year to fulfill each space. read on beneath the cut!

Literary Fiction: I find that a lot of people are reluctant to check out literary fiction, as it’s often written off as not being about anything but adultery and divorce. If this is you, I implore you to take a chance, acknowledge that adultery and divorce are compelling sometimes, and also remember that lit fic has a lot more to offer than that. At Writer’s Digest, Michael Woodson describes literary fiction as “less of a genre than a category,” which “focuses on style, character, and theme over plot.” My recommendations include Raven Leilani’s Luster, Ocean Vuong’s On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous, and Melissa Broder’s Milk Fed.

I’ll be reading: Martyr! by Kaveh Akbar

2. Short Story Collection: You know, a bunch of short stories together in one book? It doesn’t get much more self-explanatory than that. Could be a collection of stories by a single author or an anthology—it’s up to you! I recommend checking out Mariana Enríquez’s The Dangers of Smoking in Bed (translated by Megan McDowell), Nalo Hopkinson’s Falling in Love With Hominids, and Kim Fu’s Lesser Known Monsters of the 21st Century.

I’ll be reading: Your Utopia by Bora Chung and translated by Anton Hur

3. A Sequel: It could be one that you’ve been meaning to get around to, one that’s not releasing until 2025, or the sequel to something you read to cross off another space on this very bingo sheet!

I’ll be reading: Heavenly Tyrant by Xiran Jay Zhao, sequel to 2021’s Iron Widow

4. Childhood Favorite: Go back and read a book you loved as a child, tween, or teen! There’s no wrong answer here; anything from a YA novel to a picture book would be just lovely, and I can’t wait to see what people pick for this option! I’m not sure which of my old favorites I’ll be revisiting yet—should I go for the warm and fuzzy Casson Family series, or straight towards the mindfucky sci-fi of Interstellar Piggy? Or maybe I’ll go see how Artemis Fowl holds up...

5. 20th Century Speculative Fiction: For those not familiar with the term, speculative fiction can encapsulate science fiction, fantasy, and anything else that falls into the unreal. You’re spoiled for iconic choices here: the 20th century gave us Le Guin’s Left Hand of Darkness, Atwood’s Handmaid’s Tale, Butler’s Parable of the Sower and Kindred, L’Engle’s A Wrinkle in Time, the beginning of Pratchett’s Discworld series, Diana Wynne Jones’ Howls’ Moving Castle, and countless others.

I’ll be reading: Dawn by Octavia E. Butler, love of my literary life 💜

6. Fantasy: Fantasy comes in a thousand different shades, from contemporary urban wizards with day jobs at the office to high fantasy spellslingers chasing dragons away from castles. Some examples I’ve adored are N.K. Jemisin’s The Killing Moon, C.L. Polk’s Witchmark, Fonda Lee’s Jade City, and Nghi Vo’s Empress of Salt and Fortune.

I’ll be reading: The Adventures of Amina al-Sirafi by Shannon Chakraborty

7. Published Before 1950: This one could not be more straightforward if I tried. You have all of human history (or at least, all the parts that have surviving literature), just not the last 75 years. Dig deep!

I’ll be reading: Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier, published in 1938

8. Independent Publisher: Did you guys know that just five publishing companies (Penguin Random House, HarperCollins Publishers, Macmillan Publishers, Simon & Schuster, and Hachette Book Group) are responsible for 80% of books published in the US each year, and 25% of books globally? Break away from the big five and see what some small presses are putting out! If you need some ideas about where to start, check out this list of nearly 300 independent publishers with notes on what kind of books they put out!

I’ll be reading: Taiwan Travelogue by Yáng Shuāng-zǐ and translated by Lin King, from Graywolf Press

9. Graphic Novel/Comic Book/Manga: Despite my personal obsession with Batman, the world of comic books is sooo much wider than Gotham City—or anything else that DC and Marvel have to offer. If superheroes aren’t your speed, check out the Southern gothic of Carmen Maria Machado and Dani Strips’ comic The Low, Low Woods, splash around in Kat Leyh’s graphic novel Thirsty Mermaids, or stop waiting for a new season of Dungeon Meshi and go read Ryoko Kui’s manga, translated to English by Taylor Engel.

I’ll be reading: The Fade, by Aabria Iyengar and Mari Costa

10. Animal on the Cover: Yes, yes, don’t judge a book by its cover—but do go find one with a critter on the cover and give it a read! Absolutely no other requirements here, get silly with it.

I’ll be reading: Shark Heart by Emily Habeck

11. Set in a Country You Have Never Visited: Fiction or nonfiction, doesn’t matter so long as it gives you a little glimpse of a country you’ve never visited in real life. If you’ve somehow visited every country currently recognized in the world, then I guess you get to go read something set in space.

I’ll be reading: A Magical Girl Retires by Park Seolyeon and Kim Sanho, translated by Anton Hur

12. Science Fiction: A genre just as diverse as fantasy, with a little something for everybody! I recommend Becky Chambers’ Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet for those who want to kiss an alien in the stars and Jessamine Chan’s The School for Good Mothers for those who want a surveillance state dystopia that hits much closer to home.

I’ll be reading: Womb City by Tlotlo Tsamaase

13. 2025 Debut Author: Read a book by someone who’s releasing their first book in 2025. Fic or nonfic, any genre, no further requirements. Not quite a free space, but pretty close!

I’ll be reading: Liquid: A Love Story by Mariam Rahmani, coming out March 11

14. Memoir: Per Wikipedia, a memoir is “any nonfiction narrative writing based on the author’s personal memories.” Some are funny, some are heartbreaking, some are both! I recommend Carman Maria Machado’s In the Dream House and Roxane Gay’s Hunger, because I tend to lean heartbreaking!

I’ll be reading: Crying in H Mart by Michelle Zauner. Again, I like heartbreaking!

15. Read a Zine, Make a Zine: Not familiar with zines? No problem! Check out some of these digital archives for inspiration, and then craft your own zine with this simple guide (or do it your own way, I’m not in charge of you).

Internet Archives: https://archive.org/details/zines

Gay Zine Archive Project: https://gittings.qzap.org/

POC Zine Project: https://poczineproject.tumblr.com/

Library of Congress: https://www.loc.gov/collections/zine-web-archive/

16. Essay Collection: Like a short story collection, but it’s nonfiction now. Some of my favorites include Samantha Irby’s We Are Never Meeting in Real Life, Elaine Castillo’s How to Read Now, Aimee Nezhukhumatathil’s World of Wonders, and Cathy Park Hong’s Minor Feelings.

I’ll be reading: A Little Devil in America: In Praise of Black Performance by Hanif Abdurraqib

17. 2024 Award Winner: What award? Any award you like! And boy, there are tons to pick from. Any book that won any award in the year 2024 is free game. If you need some places to start looking, check out some of these:

Lambda Literary Awards, for excellence in LGBT literature: https://lambdaliterary.org/awards__trashed/2024-winners/

The Alex Awards, for adult books with crossover appeal for teen readers: https://www.ala.org/yalsa/alex-awards

Ignyte Awards, celebrating diversity in speculative fiction: https://ignyteawards.fiyahlitmag.com/2024-results/

Women's Prize for Fiction (self explanatory) https://womensprize.com/prizes/womens-prize-for-fiction/

Others: https://www.bookbrowse.com/awards/

I’ll be reading: Biography of X by Catherine Lacey, winner of the 2024 Lambda Literary Award for Lesbian Fiction

18. Nonfiction: Learn Something New: I know very little about archaeology, anthropology, or any other fields that involve studying ancient cities, but Annalee Newitz’s Four Lost Cities: A Secret History of the Urban Age was some of the most fun I had with nonfiction in 2024, because every page brought a brand new discovery. For 2025, find a nonfiction book about a topic you don’t know ANYTHING about, and learn something new!

I’ll be reading: Cooling the Tropics: Ice, Indigeneity, and Hawaiian Refreshment by Hi’ilei Julia Kawehipuaakahaopulani Hobart

19. Social Justice & Activism: Read a book about a social issue, the history of an activist movement, or brush up on a guiding philosophy or ideology. Arm yourself with knowledge, besties, because I have a feeling we’re going to need it! if you need a good place to start, why not try Angela Davis' Race, Women & Class, Mariame Kaba's We Do This 'Til We Free Us, or Molly Smith and Juno Mac's Revolting Prostitutes?

I’ll be reading: White Feminism: From Suffragettes to Influencers and Who They Leave Behind by Koa Beck

20. Romance Novel: Listen to me. Fucking listen to me. I mean a ROMANCE. NOVEL. Not a novel that incidentally has a romance in it. Romance novel, motherfucker. Go check out the romance section and have some whimsy as two people fall in love through the most contrived series of events ever conceived. If you really need a romance that makes you feel smart (that’s still sexy and messy as hell), try Akwaeke Emezi’s You Made a Fool of Death with Your Beauty.

I’ll be reading: Go Luck Yourself by Sara Raasche

21. Read and Make a Recipe: Could be a cookbook, could be a recipe you yoinked from the New York Times, could be something your grandparents lovingly wrote down by hand. Could be as complex or as simple as you like, just make something tasty! Some cookbooks I’ve enjoyed are Sohla El-Waylly’s Start Here, Dan Pashman’s Mission Impastable, and John Wang and Storm Garner’s The World Eats Here.

22. Horror: Slashers, zombies, haunted houses, creeping paranoia, you name it! It’s time to get spooky and scary with all kinds of things going bump in the night. Maybe this is the year to finally keep up with Dracula Daily? Not for me, I'm not doing that, but you could!

I’ll be reading: I Was A Teenage Slasher by Stephen Graham Jones

23. Published in the Aughts: A throwback, but not too far back. Read something published between 2000 and 2009. Maybe it’s time to finally get into Twilight? (For legal reasons, that’s a joke.)

I’ll be reading: The Sluts by Dennis Cooper, published in 2004

24. Historical Fiction: You know, fiction that takes place in a bygone era! Please remember, this isn’t just about reading a book that’s old; we have a separate prompt for that! This is about reading something that takes place in the past relative to the time it was written. Pride and Prejudice is historical to us, but was contemporary when Austen wrote it. Think of Brit Bennett's The Vanishing Half, Markus Zusak's The Book Thief, or history + a bit of fantasy in book's like R.F. Kuang's Babel.

I’ll be reading: The Yiddish Policemen's Union by Michael Chabon

Bookseller or Librarian Recommendation: This one is fun, and something I always like to do when I’m travelling and visiting a new bookstore. Ask a bookseller or librarian to recommend something they’ve liked, and check it out! If going in person isn’t feasible, many bookstores and libraries have staff picks on their websites, and the Indie Next List is a monthly list of independent booksellers’ favorite new releases.

I’ll be reading: The Last Report on the Miracles at Little No Horse by Louise Erdrich, which I bought at Erdrich’s bookstore, Birchbark Books, this summer :)

lastly: tagging people who asked to be tagged to make sure they didn't miss this! @thebisexualwreckoning @perfunctoryperfusions @reallyinkyhands come get your bingo sheet!

#bookblr #2025 book bingo

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temporarytemporal · 1 year ago

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cling to me

I know I said I was going to distance myself from this piece of media because of all of its terrible connections, but these two characters seem to have taken root in a permanent place in my heart, and I can't let them go.

Anyway, here's some character design notes below the cut for the one person out there who's obsessed with these characters as much as me.

Early DSMP: the era of childhood innocence

Bandanas: They sport each other’s bandana’s (they’re hidden in the design for every era). I love character designs with complementary colors (and I love how red and green are also cranboo’s colors)

Disks: Early on, cat and mellohi represent the peaceful moments ctommy shared with his favorite people, but they went on to be a symbol of victory and independence from the people who have hurt him.

Flowers: Ctubbo collects flowers and tries to memorize the meanings and symbolism tied to each type of flower. He also collects them for his bees.

L’manberg: the era where children became soldiers

Horns: Ctubbo’s horns start to grow in here.

Pogtopia: the era of an exile and a secretary of state / spy

You can tell I joined the fandom at the end of this era because I don’t have many notes here or for the l’manberg era.

Exile: the era of an exile once again and and a president too young

Hair: Ctommy’s hair starts to grow longer as he neglects taking care of himself.

Clothes: Ctommy’s clothes are tattered; one shoe is destroyed and he took to wearing cw-lbur’s (f-ck ccw-lbur btw!!) trench coat.

Bandages: Ctubbo’s wrapped in bandages from his recently earned firework burns. He’s gone blind in his right eye, and he’s missing the ring and pinkie finger on his right hand.

Compasses: They share their matching ‘your tommy’ and ‘your tubbo’ compasses

Hog Hunt: the era where one sought to kill the blood god while the other sought refuge there

Stolen goods: Ctommy’s has his antarctic empire outfit plus all the goods he stole from ctechno like the turtle helmet, golden apples, and the axe of peace.

Bedrock: Ctommy wears his counterpart piece matching techno’s from his ear.

Prosthetic: Ctommy’s right foot had to be amputated after he loses it to frostbite in the trek to cemeraldduo’s cabin. Ctechno gives him a simple prosthetic.

Disc Finale: the era of mended relationships and a final stand

Headband: Ctommy begins to wear a devil headband to fit in more, as he’s one of the few humans on the server. The devil horns were chosen to resemble ceryn’s real ones.

Patchwork: Ctommy learns to sew, and he fixes his tattered clothes from exile.

Post Revival:

Devil horns: Ctommy’s devil horns (plus a tail) become real after revival, and he gets a white streak in his hair.

Prime cross: The bad things that have happened to them both that they survived strengthen ctommy’s faith in prime, whereas they weaken ctubbo’s faith.

Sweater: Ctommy makes himself a sweater from friend’s wool.

Mechanical inventions: Ctubbo pursues his passion for engineering more as he makes mechanical bee drones and studies nuclear physics. He also makes himself prosthetic fingers, and he upgrades ctommy’s prosthetic foot.

Marriage ring: Ctubbo marries cranboo platonically and wears the ring on his horn. He also founds snowchester so he can have a place to protect his loved ones and raise his son. He grows out his hair to avoid eye contact for cranboo and to cover his scars.

Body type: Ctubbo gets chubbier and gains some muscle as he gets a bit happier in life.

Post DSMP:

The prison break and everything after it never happened. These are my OCs, and I make the rules because every actor/writer who played a part in their creation either abandoned them or turned out to be a terrible person. Cbenchtrio live happily ever after and begin their journey of healing while cdream rots in prison forever.

#dsmp #ctommy #ctubbo #tempo art

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cheapshrimpysheep · 21 days ago

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Dating in a Dream - Azul Ashengrotto

SUMMARY: What would his dream be like, exactly the same as in the original story, but with the small detail that he is dreaming that you two are dating?

CHARACTERS: Azul Ashengrotto x Reader🐙🦐

TAGS: Fluff; a little angst; GN Reader; In a Relationship (kinda); Kiss; Flirting

WARNING: Spoilers from Book 7 and Azul’s dream (Eng Server)

WORD COUNT: 6.390 words

COMMENTS: This was written as a companion piece to the original dream story, so the parts that are the same as the game are just summarized.

I hope you enjoy🐙

Dating in a Dream: Idia / Epel / Rook / Vil / Kalim / Jamil / Floyd / Jade / (Azul) / ...

“Aether signal tracking successful.” Ortho announces. “We have arrived at the designated coordinates.”

Just like in Jade's dream, you, him, Floyd, Jamil, Ortho, Silver, Sebek, Grim and Idia's tablet appeared in the dream already underwater. You check to see if everyone is there and okay, but Jade wasn't feeling well and ended up vomiting. It seems that Jade has a propensity for the dream-crossing sickness. Meanwhile both Jade and Floyd have switched to their merforms.

“Still, I must admit some surprise.” Jade says. “I wasn't expecting Azul's dream to be set under the sea.”

“And it's our home, the Coral Sea, the least novel place possible.” Floyd adds.

“I was positive Azul's dream would be about him thriving doing business on land.”

The Leeches debate among themselves what this could mean and they think that, like them, Azul got bored on land and decided to expand the Mostro Lounge at the sea. When your group finally decides to go look for Azul, you hear cheering coming from past some rocks.

You go check and see two teams of mermen playing something that looks like spelldrive. Jade and Floyd explain that it is called coral rush, the most popular underwater sport. Jade says that judging by the faces of the players, that is a match between school teams. Apparently, between the Red Pincers and the Golden Tridents. From the description, Idia says that it is impossible for someone like Azul to be part of a team in a sport like that.

But then, the commentator describes someone from the Golden Tridents team stealing the ball from the Red Pincers team.

“Who was it that swiped the ball so fast we couldn't see it...?” You hear the commentator say through the speakers. “Ah, the Golden Tridents' guardian! AZUL ASHENGROTTO!”

You see Azul on the field towards the other goal and with the dreamer's silver bird around his head. Everyone is dumbfounded, including Jade and Floyd.

“Azul, Azul, he's our man! If he can't do it, no one can!” You hear the Merfolk Cheerleaders.

“Why are you looking at them like that, (Y/N)?" Ortho asks you. “You look repulsed.”

You change the subject by saying it was just something in the water.

You continue to watch the game, with Jade and Floyd laughing because not even they believe what they are seeing, and see Azul score the winning goal with spectacular style.

“Ah! They're going somewhere else now.” Sebek points out, after the end of the game.

“We can't afford to lose them. Let's follow!” Silver says.

But unfortunately, it's really difficult for you to move around underwater and the aerospheres are so big that you have to be careful not to collide with each other.

“Squeee! Wait up, Azul!” The Merfolk Cheerleaders swim in your direction. “Hey, out of the way, people! Those jellyfish membranes around you are blocking the way. Stop taking up so much space!” And one of them bumps into you.

“Excuse me!” Azul suddenly appears. “What a terrible way to treat spectators here to offer their support. I'm so sorry how people from my school treated- Ah! (Y/N)? Why are you... what happened to your tail?” Azul looked extremely worried. “And what is this membrane around you?!”

“My... my tail...? I...” Even if you wanted to come up with something to say, you still don't have enough information about what's going on to know what to made up.

Azul carefully places one of his tentacles around your aerosphere to try to pull you with him without bursting it.

“Um... just give us a moment.” Azul tells the others with a smile as he takes you with him behind a rock.

The others let him take you because it seemed like you might be able to get some information about that dream.

“What happened?!” He whispers to you, with a concern similar to someone having a plan go wrong. “Has the potion lost its effect? You took the last dose, didn't you?”

From what you were understanding, in Azul's dream you were a land-dweller who needed to take a potion to stay in your merform. So you decide to go with it.

“Huh... Yes! I, uh, was so excited to see you play that I might have forgotten to take the potion. And, uh... Those guys, they're the ones who gave me this, uh, bubble to breathe in.”

“For the Benevolent Sea Witch's Sake!” He keeps whispering, but almost in panic. “Those guys now know that you're a land-dweller?! Why were you so careless? Good thing I always carry a spare potion with me.” He has a brown bag around his waist from which he takes a light purple glass bottle. “Deep breath.”

You take a deep breath and he bursts your aerosphere. He uses his tentacles to take off one of your shoes and sock while complaining about why you land-dwellers wear so many layers of clothing and makes a drop of the potion touch your foot. Your legs start to glow, join together and become a shrimp tail. But the strangest thing is that you start breathing through gills in your ribs. Azul puts the bottle back in the bag, holds your hands with his and with one of his tentacles he holds your tail to give you support.

“It's okay, my dear.” Azul tells you reassuringly. “You'll get used to it again in no time. And I won't leave your side anymore. I promise.” He kisses your cheek. “You can take off your clothes now.” he suggests casually. “They will only get in the way of your swimming. And the other merfolks will find it extremely suspicious.”

If you have a female body, you will notice that the scales on your tail continue up your torso, covering your chest like a bathing suit and just like the Sea Witch. So, since there is no problem in taking off your shirt and you already feel the difficulty of moving with clothes underwater, you take off the rest of your clothes.

“You are so much more beautiful without those things covering you.” He smiles fondly at you and he holds you again. “Now... let's get back to our... visitors.” He says with a sly smile. “You can hold my arm until you feel comfortable swimming again.”

You do so and hold on to Azul's arm, which is stronger than you thought. You and Azul come out from behind the rock to approach the group again and it's no surprise that everyone looks at your new merform with immense astonishment.

“(Y/N) told me what happened.” Azul tells them. “Thank you so much for helping my partner in such a time of need.”

��Your PARTNER?!”

“Yes, I know. We are such a charming couple.” Azul confirms with a proud smile. “You must have traveled a long way to get here. Please, consider yourselves welcome. My name is Azul Ashengrotto. I'm the captain of the Golden Tridents, my school's coral rush team.”

“Mr. Ashengrotto, I was quite impressed with how you were playing back there.” Jade tells him enthusiastically, or rather, feigning enthusiasm. “Could I trouble you for an autograph?”

He makes Azul sign the back of Idia's tablet, against Idia’s will.

“By the way, do our faces ring any bells for you?” Jade asks after thanking him for the autograph.

“Your faces? Hmm... Ah! Are you the Leeches? From elementary school?”

“Yes! I'm honored you remember us.”

“Oh, the memories! We were in the same class back then, weren't we? It's been ages!” Azul looks at you. “Excuse me for a second, my dear.”

He gently makes you let go of his arm, but discreetly keeps a tentacle on your tail to support you, as he and Jade do one of those complicated secret handshakes. After that, Azul swims back a little so you can lean on his arm again.

They talk about how it's been a while since they last saw each other at graduation. The Leeches tell him that they are at Night Raven College and Azul is surprised, maybe even shocked, that they are attending a school on land.

“That's... amazing. You must be quite brave.” Azul tells them. “I could never go up on land, myself...”

“Hey, Azul!” A teammate of his calls. “Come on, Let's go! Party can't start without the star of the team!”

Azul has to say goodbye, but first he invites the group to go to his team's victory party that night, saying he would like to hear more about their life on land. The venue was La Grotta, his mother's restaurant. As soon as Azul mentions food, Grim almost jumps on him with excitement. But by the way he treats him, it seems that Azul doesn't recognize Grim, even though he knows you.

“We'll be waiting! Until then.” He finally says goodbye and takes you with him.

Seeing you leave without Azul, Grim prepares to protest but is stopped by Jamil who suggests that they let you go to get more inside information that could be useful to them.

“Ahh... Azul's got such a friendly, dreamy smile!” A Golden Tridents Fan says. “I think I'm in love. What I would give to be (Y/N). They are so lucky.”

As you swim past the fans of Azul’s team, or rather, Azul’s fans with him, you look sideways at some of these merfolks.

“What is it?” He asks you with a smug smile. “Don't tell me you're getting a little jealous of my... I mean, the Golden Tridents fans.”

You don't hide your slightly sullen lips, which makes him chuckle.

“Oh, my pearl, I thought you already knew that you don't need to worry. No one's voice will divert my gaze from you.” And what a loving gaze he was directing at you.

He took you straight to La Grotta, his mother's restaurant, and he left you in one of the VIP rooms while he went to talk to the staff and his teammates, which gave you time to think about what was going on and what you could do next.

So, to recap: he knows you, but he doesn't know Grim or Night Raven College. And Azul knows you're a land-dweller. But now the question is: How did you two meet if he's never been to Night Raven College? However, you couldn't just ask him. What excuse would you use to not remember your relationship? Amnesia? No, that wouldn't fly.

Luckily, Azul gave you one of those waist bags where you could put your cell phone and you were discussing ideas with the others via messages.

Thinking about the fact that Azul was part of the Board Game Club, just like Idia, he suggested one of those quiz games for couples. Idia could manipulate the questions if necessary, so that you would receive questions that you knew how to answer and Azul’s would be more specific to learn more about his dream. But maybe that wasn't necessary, because in a quick search Ortho discovered quizzes like “Who is the most...”, where the answers are just “Me”, “You” or “Both”. And there's no problem with the answers being different. In fact, it's even better if they're different because then you both would talk about it.

By messing with the dream code a little, Idia makes one of those teen magazines with silly quizzes appear next to you, where the quiz for you to use with Azul is.

When Azul comes back, he brings with him a bunch of your favorite dishes that can be prepared underwater, and places them on the table with a smile. It was an all-you-can-eat buffet just for the two of you, especially for you. You tell him that you found that magazine somewhere and that you would like to take a couples quiz it had. Azul chuckles and accepts for the fun.

“Who is most likely to go to land?” You read the first question, and you both agree that it would be you. Even though Azul commented that none of you would go.

“Who gives more gifts?”

You look at all those dishes that are your favorites and you agree with Azul himself that is him.

“Fine, fine, I admit it.” Azul sighs with a smile. “I may or may not spoil you a little too much.” You feel one of his tentacles caress your tail fins.

“Who is more jealous?” You continue with the questions.

“Hmm... I would say you.” Azul smirks.

“ME?!”

“Are you going to deny the way you were looking at those cheerleaders? Fu fu.”

Something tells you that in real life Azul would be at least a little jealous, but of course his dream wouldn't put him in a position to make him feel jealousy. So you end up agreeing.

“Who is most likely to forget how you met?”

“That would be you, for sure.” Azul says, with an amused smile.

“Why do you say that?”

“Well, technically you were unconscious when we actually met.”

“I was?!” You couldn't contain your surprise.

“Ha ha, I understand. It was a traumatic situation despite everything.” Azul explains. “I usually avoid going too far to the surface, but it was on a night of... um... I think they're called fireworks. The merfolks also enjoy their sight. But then a storm started to form and we went back underwater. I noticed a big... boat? Ship! A big ship struggling on the surface and that's when I saw something fall into the water. I wouldn't have turned back, but I realized it was the silhouette of a land-dweller. And I... I don't know why... Curiosity? I honestly don't know, but I came to your aid. When I caught you, you were already unconscious but still alive. The storm was too dangerous to carry you above the surface, so I used magic to create a bubble of air for you to breathe. When I arrived at the beach the sea was already calmer. Only then did you open your eyes. But I didn't stay with you for long because I heard a lot of people coming looking for you, so I went back to the sea. So technically, you would be the most likely to forget that day. If you remember anything at all.” He finishes with a reassuring smile.

“So, you saved me.”

“Well, yes. And that's why you kept going to the beach looking for me for days, wasn't it? You wanted to know who saved you.”

And how did you end up underwater with him? You look back at the questions and the next one changes without Azul noticing.

“Who is most likely to give up their world to live in their loved one's.” You read. “Well, clearly me too.” You smile at him.

“But of course. You yourself told me that you hated the land. You said you would do anything to be with me.” He smiles, more smugly than lovingly.

“And do you remember when we really met?” You ask. “You know, when I met you consciously?”

“Naturally. After all, you were after me. You even asked the naval authorities of Sunshine Lands for help. And of course this reached my dad since he is a lawyer. I would almost have felt like a wanted criminal if it weren't for the thanks for saving you. And so we arranged to meet on the beach the next night.”

You hear someone knocking at the door. Azul says they can come in and one of the staff members appears saying that the time for the victory party to start was approaching. Azul tells you it was a fun game to bring back good memories, you finish eating and get ready to go to the party and receive the guests.

“We have some... special guests today.” He comments with a smug smile that gives you a bad feeling.

“DJ, surely you can play something with more energy than this!” Azul says as the outgoing host of the party. “We can't exactly dance to outdated jazz.” The DJ does what he says. “Is everyone having fun?”

“Wooo! Yeeeah!” The party-goers enthusiastically confirm.

“Whoa, are those land-dwellers?” You hear one of the mermen say near the entrance. “What're they doing at our party?”

“Hm? ...Oh! Those are my guests.” Azul says approaching the group with you holding on to his arm. “I can't believe you actually came. You all must be quite brave.” He says with that weird smile. “Welcome to La Grotta. Oh, dear... I completely forgot to tell you - this party has a dress code for land-dwellers.”

“What? Why didn't you say so?” Sebek questions.

“Required attire for undersea parties is...” Azul continues. “This!” he makes those anemones you recognize appear on Sebek's head.

“Whoa! What is this?!”

“Under the sea, that's a hair accessory regarded as highly formal. Isn't it lovely the way it sways back and forth with the current?” Azul smiles charismatically. “Wearing these will elevate even the drabbest attire. You'll be the centerpieces of the party! Here's one for each of you!

He made those anemones appear on everyone's head, except Jade and Floyd's, with the excuse that they were for land-dweller and that merfolks didn't need them.

“Now come on in, everyone.” Azul invites them. “There's no sense blocking the doorway!”

The group enters and Azul lets them move a little away from you two.

“Azul.” You whisper to him. “That dress code...”

“Of course it's a lie.” He confesses to you with that mocking smile. “Let's have some fun with those... poor unfortunate souls, shall we, my dear?” He laughs and takes you with him back to the group.

“Hm? The merfolk all seem to be starting at us.” Silver notices. “Have we committed some faux pas?”

“Didn't I tell you that you'd be the centerpieces of the party with those accessories? Their gazes are all riveted to you because you cut such dashing figures.”

This convinces Grim, whose ego continues to be inflated by the other merfolks. And they convince him to go on stage and dance. Grim accepts, but drags Sebek and Ortho with him. You had a bad feeling as big as Idia, Jamil, Jade and Floyd. A hunch that turned out to be true when Grim, Ortho and Sebek fell off the stage and the three of them's aerospheres came together, making them look like idiots. All the merfolks started laughing, including Azul.

“What sad, pathetic creatures land-dwellers are.” Azul mocks. “It's hard to believe ANY merfolk would actually go up there. There's no place like under the sea!”

They admit that Azul only invited them to use them as entertainment and reveal that those anemones on their heads were just part of their humiliation.

“Azul, I can't believe you can lie with such a straight face." A merman says. "You're the man!”

“Ahahaha! Aren't they the perfect accessory for such silly-looking land-dwellers? Ahh, good times! What a delightful diversion this has been. But the rest of the party is for us merfolk. The goofy opening act can exit the stage now. Off you go! Goodbye!”

“WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!” You shout, abruptly letting go of Azul's arm. Everyone looks at you in shock, especially Azul. “You're not like this! Well, yes, you take advantage of other people's naivety, that's true, but not like this. And what's your problem with land-dwellers? You're dating me, aren't you? And I AM A LAND-DWELLER!”

The other merfolks are shocked, apparently this was a secret.

“What? Azul Ashengrotto dating a land-dweller?”

“Wha- NO! They...” Azul looks at the other merfolks. “They WERE land-dweller, but they hated it, they wanted to be merfolks and I granted them that wish.”

“What? I don't hate being a land-dweller!” You defend yourself. “Why are you being a bully? Why do you want to be like the people who made fun of you when you were little?!”

“What? What are you talking about? I never... Argh!” He has a vision of one of the times he was made fun of as a child. “What? No! This never happened!”

“I like you, Azul.” You confess. “But not you, the real Azul!”

“Yeah, this Azul is reeealy boooring” Floyd complains. “Hey, Koebi-chan~ , leave that guy and come back to us.”

“K-koebi-chan?” Azul looks at Floyd strangely.

You start swimming towards Floyd and the others, but that's when you feel something wrap around your tail, preventing you from keep swimming.

“NO! YOU WON'T LEAVE ME! YOU'RE MINE!” Azul pulls you back to him and holds your arms to your torso with two other tentacles around you.

Of course this makes the group attack Azul and whoever gets in the way to save you. Azul tries to swim away and let the mermen fight for him, but the Leeches stop him from escaping.

“Swimming away instead of fighting your own battles?” Jade says. “How pathetic.”

“Pathetic?! ...Hrk!” Azul has a vision of Jade and Floyd looking at him, disappointed, wearing their dorm uniforms.

“Yeah, you're so pitiful that to make Koebi-chan stay with you, you have to force them.” Floyd attacks him. “Let go of them!” He scratches Azul's tentacles making him release you, and Floyd pulls you to take you with him and Jade.

“Let's move on to the next dream, everyone.” Jade says.

This makes Azul have another memory: ‘Ooohhh, is that a fact? I'm just a silly little octo-twerp who can't do anything on his own.’

“Hrgh! What is this?!” Azul’s dream world begins to distort. “Is that... me, in clothes? What is this memory?! Urgh... Head... hurts...!”

The other mermen approached him to make sure he was okay and to do their job of convincing him to stay in that dream, telling him not to believe in land-dweller, that nothing good can come from associating with them. All merfolk transform into that goopy darkness around Azul and you all, but a new figure forms in the midst of the darkness, and when this figure reveals itself, it is a copy of you in your merform.

“Don't let them fool you Azul.” Your copy tells him. “You saved me from that messed up place. And I fell in love with you so much that I would give anything to be part of your world. This wonderful world. Under the sea. With you. Loving you just the way you are.”

“Yes... Nothing beats life... under the sea...”

“Right. Even if you went onto land, you'd be working nonstop from sun-up to sundown.” A merman says.

“Stay here, and you can spend your days dancing and singing!” Another merman corroborates. “Every day's a blast!”

“Life under the sea is as good as it gets... Isn't that right, Azul?”

“Yes... I would never... go onto land...” Azul lets himself be swallowed by darkness.

“Jade, Floyd, let's follow him!” Ortho says.

But... they explain that personal responsibility is the rule in Octavinelle. Immersing himself in pleasant dreams was Azul’s decision. If someone doesn't want step up, leave them, That's their rule.

“You two are going to jump on that thing with us and help save Azul or I'll put you back to sleep myself!” You threaten them, a more emotional than logical reaction derived from your feelings for Azul.

Everyone looks at you in surprise that you even have the courage to threaten those two. But Jade and Floyd smile at you with amusement. They find your reaction interesting and that's why they thought it would be fun to help you while you had such strong motivation.

You appear in Octavinelle's hallway You, Jade and Floyd change your human forms again and you all peek through the door into the interior of Mostro Lounge to see Azul and the Jade and Floyd NPCs talking. You see Azul burning that school photo he wanted you to steal from the Atlantica Memorial Museum.

“Now my wretched past is all squared away.” You hear Azul saying. “And I get Ramshackle dorm from that sucker (Y/N) in the bargain.”

It seems that, from all indications, he was no longer dreaming that he was dating you. You find out he was dreaming of a scenario where Leona didn't turn all of his contracts to sand. This dream likely takes place shortly after midterms. The real-world Azul lost most of the powers he'd taken from others after those midterms, but in this dream, he never lost his contracts, and he's even managed to acquire the powers of multiple housewardens. Just from what you overheard, he's taken the signature spells of Riddle and Leona, at least.

You conclude that you need to find the contracts and destroy them yourselves. You go to the VIP Room but when you open the safe, it's empty. It was most likely that Azul had hidden the contracts somewhere else. But the only people, besides Azul, who could know where the safe was were Jade and Floyd, or rather, their NPCs. The plan now was to draw Jade and Floyd's NPCs away from Azul, distract or even destroy Floyd's NPC and use Jade's signature spell on his own NPC to tell him where the safe was.

While Floyd, Jamil and Ortho took care of Floyd's NPC, you and the rest took care of Jade's NPC. After you go to the Alchemy Workshop, have Idia unlock the door to the storage room, and Jade breaking practically every glass case in sight to take a few super rare magic mushrooms, he puts all the mushrooms in a large container and tells you and Grim to go to Mostro Lounge and make an offer for them. The others don't believe that Azul will fall for that, but the plan is not for Azul, but for Jade’s NPC. Before you go, Jade makes anemones appear on your head and Grim's so that Azul doesn't get suspicious since, according to the logic of the dream, you both should be under his control at that moment.

As Jade predicted, Azul had no interest in the mushrooms, but Jade's NPC had every interest. Jade’s NPC asks Azul to go with you to investigate the place where you and Grim allegedly found the mushrooms and he lets him go, but before Jade's NPC leaves with you and Grim:

“(Y/N).” Azul calls you. “Could you stay and let Grim show Jade the way? There are some matters I would like to discuss with you.”

You decide to accept, because being close to Azul can help with the mission. He asks you to go with him to the VIP Room and tells you to sit on one of the sofas and make yourself comfortable. You do so and he sits next to you instead of sitting in his armchair behind the desk.

“I'm so sorry you lost your dorm.” He says with false pity. “But a deal is a deal.” He crosses one leg. “I heard you moved to Savanaclaw. Is it true?” You confirm. “I'm surprised that the students in that dorm would be so... agreeable as to find you a room. What is it like? I hope it's not too uncomfortable.”

You tell him that you are staying in the Houseworden room with Leona, and this makes Azul's expression change. Maybe as you already expected it to happen knowing now that he probably has a crush on you.

“You are sharing a room with Leona?!” He says in a slightly squeaky voice before clearing his throat and regaining his posture. “But the housewardens' rooms are solo rooms. Let me guess, he's making you sleep on the floor?”

In reality, that's more or less what happened. But... what if... you changed the story a little and saw what happened? You tell Azul that at first, yes, you slept on the floor, but that over time you got closer to Leona and one night, seeing that you had started to suffer from back pain, he started to let you sleep with him in his huge bed. Azul's face doesn't change much, but if you pay attention to his hands they were starting to form fists.

“Well, that's good. But... It must be hard to live in that dorm. After all, you're living in the most... wild dorm in Night Raven College. If you could be transferred to another dorm, is there one you would like to move to?

You know the answer he wants to hear, but you say another dorm on purpose to mess with him. You respond with Heartslabyul, because your closest friends, Ace and Deuce are there. And you also know Riddle, Trey and Cater well.

“It makes sense.” Azul admits a little displeased. “But unfortunately, I heard that they have no free rooms, not even free beds.”

“Well, that's what they told me too.” You tell him. “Ace and Deuce said that both they and Riddle would be happy to take me in, but there was that problem. Ace even suggested that I share a bed with him or Deuce.”

“Really?” Azul whispers to himself, with that look of someone who wants to have a little chat with him later.

“That's why I ended up going to Savanaclaw. I wasn't... I'm not close to anyone from other dorms.”

“And what would you say if you could stay in Octavinelle?”

You didn't know if it was the mood of the room, the decor, the soft jazz in the background, but something was making you want to mess with him through those deals of his.

“And why would that be a better deal than staying with Leona? Since I'm now even sleeping in a Houseworden's bed.”

“Is that what you want?” He says seductively and getting a little closer to you. “To sleep in the Housewarden's bed? What if I told you that I would allow you to do the same here?” He smiles with satisfaction when he sees you looking a little flustered.

“Besides that...” He straightens up on the couch. “I can only imagine how much you suffer from those brutes whose strength is valued more than intellect. Here, you would be treated with much more respect, for sure. Especially...” With his index finger on your chin he makes you look at him. “If you were the Housewarden’s partner. That connection alone would give you all the respect in the school. And who knows...” He reaches out his arm to poke the anemone on your head. “Maybe I'll free you from this.” His hand returns to your face, this time grabbing you by the cheeks. “It really doesn't look good on such a pretty face.”

“What if I don't accept the deal?” You ask, taking your face out of his hand.

Azul's smile faded slightly, clearly dissatisfied.

“In that case... I will have to force you to leave Savanaclaw.” He grabs the anemone on your head and pulls it, bringing your face closer to his. “And bring you here myself.” He whispers. “Willingly or not... you are already mine.”

Someone knocks on the door before you can say anything else. Azul lets go of your anemone, asks you to excuse him, gets up and goes to open the door to find an Octavinelle student asking him to go with him because something came up that needed his evaluation.

“I'll be right there, give me just a second.” Azul closes the door and walks towards you again. “I'll leave you to ponder.” He tells you with his charismatic smile. “You can join Octavinelle of your own free will. Or you can continue to be one of my... forced collaborators. Either way...” He tilts your head with his fingers on your chin. “I'll get what I want..." He leans in to bring his face closer to yours. "And and I want you.” He straightens up, lets go of your chin and turns to leave the room.

You stayed in the VIP Room and shortly after you heard Jade and Floyd arrive at Mostro Lounge and start talking with Azul.

“Jade, that large attaché case you're carrying...” You hear Azul say worriedly. “Is that the one with my contracts?”

They talk about some miscreant wanting to steal Azul's contracts and that's why they went to get the case from under his bed.

“Anyway, hand over the case.” Azul tells them. “I need to hide it elsewhere for now.”

You take the opportunity to discreetly open the VIP Room door and take a peek at what was going on.

“Didn't you hear me? Hand it over, quickly.”

“Azul. Have you truly forgotten?” Jade asks. “In reality, you lost those contracts months ago.”

“In... reality? I lost them? What are you saying? I haven't lost anything. I've gained everything! You've seen it for yourselves, haven't you?”

Jade and Floyd remain silent.

“What's with those looks? You know there's no one left at school who opposes me. Even the headmage does as I say! They all bow before me! And you know what happens to any who dare go against my will.”

“Oh, Azul... You really must stop disappointing us like this.”

“Disappointing you? If anyone here is disappointed, it's me!”

Things escalate and Azul attacks the twins for their insubordination, but Floyd uses his signature spell to bounce Azul's attack. Azul calls all students with anemones in their heads that he controls to fight them. They surround Jade and Floyd. Among them you see Ace, Deuce, Riddle, Leona, Kalim and even Idia. It is at this time that Silver, Sebek, Jamil, Ortho and Grim enter to fight alongside the twins. And you also join them.

“Here, Koebi-chan. You hold the case.” Floyd throws you the attaché case with the contracts.

They fight until the right opportunity arises, which is when Azul uses Leona's signature spell, Kings Roar, to attack Floyd. He uses his signature spell to bounce the attack towards you. You quickly position the attaché case and the attack hits it, destroying it and all the contracts inside.

“No, no, no! My poor little contracts... With my own spell...! They're all... sand... HRK!” The world begins to distort as Azul remembers. “What's happening?! My head feels... like it's about to split open... Urgh! That's right... Back on that day, I... Ah... Aaah... AAAAAAGH!”

Azul remembers and the dream breaks.

“How could I have forgotten something so vital?” He laughs. “I swore I'd never commit a blunder that bad again, and yet... Here I am, reliving the experience of losing all my contracts. What a nightmare!”

Azul, Jade and Floyd don't get to exchange many words before the dream world starts shaking like an earthquake because, now that the contracts have been destroyed, that dream can no longer reach a happy ending. While everyone tried to escape, the darkness caught Azul by the leg. Jade and Floyd held him and tried to stop him from sinking back into the darkness, but the others explained that everyone needed to get out of there quickly and that Azul, as was his dream, could still save himself. The twins let go of him, with Azul's own consent and agreement, and you all left that dream while Azul was taken away by the darkness.

When you were able to return to the dream, you found Azul in his human form and wearing his Octavinelle Housewarden uniform, despite being in his mother's restaurant under the sea.

After the explanations and Ortho showing Azul the explanatory video of what was happening, Azul immediately worries about Mostro Lounge, the possibly spoiled food, and the public's image of seeing them close without warning. But after that, there was another concern.

“Wait. From what I understand, you arrived during the Coral rush game. Which means...” Azul looks at you, but then immediately looks away, embarrassed and blushing.

Jade and Floyd laugh, but Jade still asks if you two wouldn't like to have a private conversation. You accept, even to Azul’s surprise, who ends up accepting after you. Jade and Floyd take charge of taking everyone away from you, probably as a way for you and Azul to later be indebted to them. But since you're at Azul's mother's restaurant, he knows where the VIP rooms are, and he takes you there.

“I...” He was so embarrassed that it seemed like he wanted to hide in a hole. “I-I-I I am SO sorry!” He can't even look you in the eyes. “I swear I would never do that to you! I don't know why I... I didn't know what I was doing. I-”

You get closer to him to calm him down and tell him that you understand. You have seen many other dreams and have noticed that what happens does not always correspond to what the dreamer would do in reality.

“What can I do to make you forgive me? And forget what happened?” He asks you, struggling to look at your face.

“So it's true that you like me?” You ask back.

“Wha- hm... I thought it would be obvious by now.” He sighs. “I... think so.” He looks away, unable to develop a better response than that.

When you admit that you like him too, he looks at you dumbfounded. The more you tell him about how much and why you like him, the more his eyes will shine. If you tell him that, from a different perspective, you even enjoyed the way he liked having you ‘all to himself’, he will blush even more.

After internalizing everything you've told him, he needs a moment to compose himself. But once he does, he looks at you with a smile and perhaps a little too much confidence.

“So... will you forgive me for my lack of manners towards you?”

You say yes, because you know he wasn't like that anymore.

“I'm glad to have your forgiveness and understanding. But...” He gets closer to you, slowly. “I'm still in debt to you. I treated you like you were my possession and that is simply unacceptable. So, tell me...” He caresses your cheek, brings his face close to yours and whispers to you. “What can I do to pay off my debt?”

“Despite everything...” You look at his lips. “You never kissed me.”

“Should we start there, then?”

You start by kissing slowly. You feel his hands sliding to your back and waist and pulling you closer to him. Gradually the kiss become more needy, and you can feel his tendency to be a little possessive. But this time, with your consent.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

#Twisted Wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst imagines #twst fluff #Twisted Wonderland Fluff #Dating in a Dream #Azul Ashengrotto #Azul Ashengrotto x Reader #Azul x Reader

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woniedarlin · 4 months ago

Text

Love at First Bite

Pairing: Chef! Jay x Food Lover! Reader

Synopsis: Jay, a perfectionist chef, has no time for distractions, so when an ordinary guest like you barges into his world, eating like it’s your last meal, he becomes irritated. What starts as irritation turns into late-night kitchen encounters, and moments that leave Jay wondering if it was just the food or you all along.

Author's Note: Yes, I watched Attack on Titan. The idea was random because I suddenly thought of Sasha and Niccolo. And then I thought of Jay. So I put two and two together, and voilà! Most of my works are about Jungwon, but I also wanted to start writing about other members—so I started this. Happy reading!

Warnings: This story is a fun, lighthearted take on a food-loving character. No harmful eating behaviors are intended. It also contains moments of class-based prejudice.

Permanent tag list: @sol3chu @chlorinecake @13tter @jung1w0n @layzfy

Heavily based on Sasha and Niccolo from Attack on Titan.

The rich smell of seared meat and herbs drifted through the grand dining hall of Luminara, the finest restaurant in Korea. The chandeliers lit up, and the voices of high-class guests were heard. Jay stood behind the counter with his arms crossed, looking closely at the dishes before him. Each plate he sent out was a piece of art made with care and pride. He had spent years refining his craft, serving only the most elite patrons who understood fine dining. He didn’t cook for just anyone. Only those who could appreciate the delicate balance of flavors and the effort behind every carefully plated meal.

"Jay," the owner of Luminara approached him with a smile. “Tonight, we’re inviting a few special guests. Not our usual clientele, but a few people outside this city are getting a taste of real luxury."

Jay frowned and set down his utensils. "You’re letting outsiders in? What’s the point? This place was built on exclusivity."

The owner chuckled at Jay’s apparent irritation. "To remind ourselves what food is really about. You’ll see."

Jay scoffed. He didn’t cook for people who wolfed down meals without appreciating the craftsmanship behind them. He cooked for those who knew how to savor every bite, who understood the layers of flavors and the artistry in each presentation. The thought of common diners stuffing their faces without a second thought made his blood boil. But the decision wasn’t his, and as much as he hated it, he had no choice but to comply.

As the evening went on, the dining hall changed. Louder and rougher conversations replaced the usual calm atmosphere. The guests that gathered had a different energy. They weren’t dressed in tailored suits or designer gowns. They were ordinary people, eyes wide as they took in the grandeur of Luminara. Some gawked at the lavish decor, while others whispered excitedly, clearly unfamiliar with such luxury.

Jay watched with narrowed eyes as the servers hesitated before placing dishes in front of these new guests. He clenched his jaw as laughter echoed from a table near the center, a sound far too carefree for his liking. His gaze zeroed in on one particular diner who was already making an impression…and not in a good way.

You were excited and couldn’t sit still as you looked at the menu. When the server brought a basket of fresh bread, you eagerly dug in, enjoying the soft, warm rolls as if you hadn’t eaten in days. Jay noticed your lack of grace and restraint

This was pure indulgence.

"Unbelievable," he muttered under his breath while shaking his head.

Then came the main course: a perfectly cooked steak, truffle-infused mashed potatoes, and a delicate garnish. As soon as it was set in front of you, you dug in without waiting. Your fork and knife moved quickly, and you ate before the server left. Jay frowned when he saw this. This was precisely what he had worried about. His food was being consumed without any appreciation.

But then, something unexpected happened. You stopped eating, and your face changed into something gentler. Tears filled your eyes as you softly said, "This is the best thing I've ever eaten."

Jay felt embarrassed and looked away, frowning. "What an idiot," he said quietly.

For the first time, someone had shown pure joy from his food.

Sitting next to you, your friends exchanged looks as they watched you joyfully eat bite after bite, with tears still shining in your eyes. "Slow down!" one of them urged. "You're going to choke if you keep eating like that!"

You barely acknowledged them, too overwhelmed by the flavors dancing on your tongue. Between mouthfuls, you managed to blurt out, "This is—so—good!" before hastily swallowing and turning toward the kitchen. "Chef!" you called out with gratitude. "Thank you! This is the best meal I've ever had!"

Jay, observing the scene from afar, stiffened at the sudden attention. His ears burned red. "There's more food," he snapped. "Stop crying over one dish." His flustered expression only deepened when you eagerly nodded, grabbing your utensils to continue devouring your meal.

Despite his grumbling, Jay found himself sneaking another glance at you. Something about how you appreciated his cooking….so openly and genuinely…affected him deeply.

The restaurant remained open for drinks and light conversation as the night wore on. The kitchen, however, had officially closed. Jay retreated to his station, cleaning up and ensuring everything was in order before heading out for the night. The owner was still entertaining the guests, their laughter filling the otherwise quiet space.

But then, a sound of soft footsteps on the tile.

Jay narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t alone.

Peeking around the corner, he spotted you crouched near the counter, eyeing a tray of leftovers. Your fingers twitched as you reached for a piece of untouched steak. Before you could bite it entirely, however—

"What the hell are you doing?"

You froze mid-bite, eyes wide, as you turned toward Jay. His arms were crossed, and his face had an unimpressed scowl, but the slight furrow in his brows betrayed his disbelief.

"Uh… late-night snack?" you offered sheepishly while the stolen food was still halfway to your mouth.

Jay let out a sharp sigh and rubbed his temples. "Unbelievable. Don’t you have no shame?"

"I do!" you protested. "But look at this! It’s a crime to let food this good go to waste!"

Jay opened his mouth to argue, but then he noticed how you looked at the food, like it was some treasure. That same unfiltered joy from earlier still sparkled in your eyes, and damn it, it made something in him falter.

"Tch," he muttered. "Please… sit down properly if you’re going to eat."

Your face lit up. "Really? You’re letting me?"

"I didn't say that! Just—" He groaned. "don’t make a mess."

You grinned, eagerly settling into one of the kitchen stools. As you took your first bite, humming in delight, Jay crossed his arms and leaned against the counter, watching you.

"By the way, I’m y/n!" you said brightly as you extended your free hand while holding a piece of steak in the other. "Nice to meet you, Chef grumpy!"

Jay scoffed but hesitated before shaking your hand. "Jay."

You smiled and chewed happily. "You know, you’re talented. I think you might be the best chef in the whole world."

Jay’s face turned red. "Shut up and eat."

♟️

Weeks had passed since the night Jay caught you sneaking into the kitchen, and somehow, your presence had become a constant in his life. You weren’t just another guest the restaurant had invited once, and you kept returning. Sometimes, it was with the same group of people who had been asked that first night. Other times, it was just you, sitting at a table near the kitchen, peeking inside whenever you thought no one was looking.

Jay had no idea why the owner let you roam around so freely, but somehow, he always ended up dealing with you. At first, he acted indifferent, telling himself he didn’t care. But over time, he found himself watching how your eyes lit up at the sight of food, how you would hum in satisfaction after the first bite.

Tonight was no different. The dinner had ended, and the kitchen had closed, but the restaurant remained open while the owner entertained the guests. You, as usual, had eaten to your heart’s content…or so it seemed…until you suddenly groaned.

“I’m still hungry.”

Your friends turned to you in horror. “You just ate a five-course meal!” one of them whispered sharply. “Stop embarrassing yourself.”

“But I’m seriously still hungry,” you whined and pouted. “It’s not my fault everything was so good! I could eat forever.”

Cleaning up near the kitchen entrance, Jay overheard your complaint and sighed heavily. He really shouldn’t care. He really shouldn’t.

Yet, before stopping, he muttered, “Wait here.”

A few moments later, he returned, placing a plate before you. It wasn’t on the menu, just something he had made earlier and hadn’t used. “Eat this,” he said. “It was going to be wasted anyway.”

Your eyes widened as your eyes lightened up instantly. “For me? Really?” Without hesitation, you dug in, humming happily after the first bite. “Ah, Jay, you’re seriously a genius! This is amazing!”

Jay cleared his throat as a faint pink dusted his ears. “Whatever. Just don’t complain about being hungry anymore.”

Your friends exchanged knowing looks while you, completely oblivious, happily continued eating. Jay wasn’t sure what was more frustrating,

How you ate so eagerly, or how he wanted to see that reaction again.

♟️

Time had passed, and somehow, you were still here.

Jay wasn’t sure when it had happened, but at some point, he stopped questioning why you kept showing up at the restaurant. It had become typical to see you hovering near the kitchen, making excuses to talk to him, sneaking bites of food whenever you thought he wasn’t looking.

At first, he was irritated. You were loud and shameless and had no concept of acceptable dining etiquette. But then, something changed…

Maybe it was how you reacted to his food as if every bite was the best thing you’d ever tasted. Perhaps it was how you always showed up with the same bright energy, never letting his cold demeanor push you away. Or maybe it was because, without realizing it, you had started learning more about him.

You knew that Jay had been cooking since childhood, that his parents expected him to be the best, and that he had spent years perfecting his skills. You knew he barely had time for himself, rarely ever sat down to eat his dishes, and hated when people wasted food. “You never actually enjoy your cooking, do you?” you asked one evening, watching as he wiped down the counters after a long shift.

Jay barely glanced at you. “I taste everything I make.”

“That’s not the same,” you argued. “Tasting and enjoying are two different things.”

He scoffed. “Not for me.”

You rested your chin on the counter while watching him work. “You know, I think I’m starting to understand you.”

He shot you a skeptical look. “Oh yeah?”

You nodded. “You act like cooking is just a job, but deep down, it’s more than that. You want people to appreciate your food but pretend not to care. You act like you’re all serious and professional, but you secretly have a soft spot for people who genuinely enjoy eating.”

Jay stilled for a moment, “Shut up.”

You grinned. “See? You’re blushing. I noticed it whenever your ears redden.”

“I’m not,” he grumbled and turned his back to you.

But he didn’t tell you to leave.

And when he caught you stealing a bite from a leftover dish, he sighed and slid the entire plate toward you instead of scolding you.

♟️

The restaurant was packed days later, filled with the city’s most elite customers. You sat at your usual spot, enjoying a simple dish Jay had grudgingly given you when the sound of elegant laughter caught your attention. At the entrance, a woman stepped in. A textbook definition of perfection. She was tall and graceful, dressed in a designer outfit that screamed wealth, and walked with the confidence that made people turn their heads.

You hadn’t thought much of it until you saw her walk straight to Jay.

She leaned in slightly as she spoke. Jay didn’t react much but didn’t brush her off either. Instead, he listened, nodding occasionally as she continued talking.

You felt so different…

You had never thought about it before, but seeing someone so poised, so naturally fitting into Jay’s world, made you feel… small like you didn’t belong here.

You stared down at your plate and suddenly lost your appetite.

“What are you doing here?” A sharp voice cut through your thoughts.

You looked up to see a wealthy-looking man sitting at a nearby table. His eyes narrowed in distaste as he glanced at your plate.

“I—uh, eating?” you answered, confused by his hostility.

He scoffed. “Do you even belong in a place like this? The owner lets anyone in these days.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks as embarrassment flooded through you. You weren’t dressed in designer clothes, you didn’t have the same effortless elegance as the other guests, and you certainly didn’t carry yourself like someone who belonged in a fine-dining restaurant.

Maybe he was right.

Maybe you were just a joke here.

And for the first time, you pushed your plate away. You suddenly didn’t feel so hungry anymore.

But before you could get up, a familiar voice interrupted.

“If you have a problem, take it somewhere else.”

Jay’s voice was colder than you’d ever heard it.

The rude customer was startled by his tone. “Excuse me?”

Jay didn’t back down. “They’re a guest here. If you don’t like it, feel free to leave.”

The entire table fell silent. Even the elegant woman Jay had been talking to earlier turned to watch the scene unfold.

Your heart pounded. You had never expected him to defend you.

The rude customer scoffed, muttering something under his breath before turning away.

You looked up at Jay, who still had that unreadable expression. But instead of saying anything, he picked up your untouched plate and placed it back in front of you.

“Eat.” His voice was quieter this time.

You hesitated. “But—”

“You like food, don’t you?” he muttered, “Don’t waste it just because of some idiot.”

Your chest tightened.

For the first time, Jay wasn’t just tolerating your presence. He was defending it.

♟️

The night air was cool as you stepped out of the restaurant. You were still feeling a little shaken from earlier. You weren’t sure why the customer’s words had gotten to you so much. Maybe it was because, deep down, you had already felt like you didn’t belong.

You sighed, hugging your arms as you stared at the street. It was late, and you’d have to catch a bus home.

“Let’s go.”

You turned at Jay’s voice, surprised to see him standing beside you with car keys.

“Huh?”

He looked uncomfortable. “I’ll drive you home.”

You blinked. “Why?”

Jay scoffed. “Do you always question free rides?”

“Well, yeah. Especially from you.”

His jaw clenched. “It’s late. I’m not letting you take the bus alone.”

You stared at him for a moment, trying to figure him out. This was the same Jay who had barely tolerated your presence when you first met. And now he was offering to take you home?

A slow smile crept onto your lips. “Jay, are you being nice to me?”

His ears immediately turned red. “Get in the car before I change my mind.”

Giggling, you hopped into the passenger seat.

The drive was quiet at first. Jay kept his eyes on the road, his hands gripping the steering wheel. You, on the other hand, kept sneaking glances at him. “You know,” you said, breaking the silence, “I think I like this side of you.”

He scoffed. “What side?”

“The side that cares.”

Jay clicked his tongue and shook his head. “I don’t care.”

“Mm-hmm. Sure.”

He exhaled sharply. “You’re annoying.”

“And you’re blushing.”

“I’m not—” He groaned, “I should’ve let you take the bus.”

You laughed, feeling lighter than you had all night. Maybe you didn’t fit into the world of fine dining and expensive lifestyles, but Jay was letting you into his for some reason.

And for now, that was enough.

The car slowed to a stop in front of your place. You unbuckled your seatbelt, stretching slightly before turning to Jay with a grin.

“Thanks for the ride, chef.”

Jay rolled his eyes. “Don’t call me that.”

You giggled. “Okay, okay. Thanks, Jay.”

He didn’t respond. Typical.

You opened the door but hesitated before stepping out. Maybe it was because Jay, despite all his grumbling, had gone out of his way to make sure you got home safely. Before you could overthink it, you leaned over and quickly kissed his cheek.

Jay froze.

You pulled back, biting back a laugh at how his entire body tensed up.

“Goodnight, Jay!” you chirped, hopping out of the car before he could react.

Jay remained in the driver’s seat and did not move for five minutes.

Then, slowly, his head dropped forward, pressing against his hand, while the other remained tightly gripping the steering wheel. Completely flustered.

♟️

The kitchen was silent. It was tense, almost cinematic kind, where something big was about to happen. You stood in the middle of the restaurant’s empty kitchen. You looked determined. The lighting overhead made dramatic shadows across your face. In one hand, you gripped a whisk like a weapon; in the other, a wooden spoon rested firmly against your palm.

Jay, dressed in casual clothes for once, an oversized hoodie and joggers, stood by the doorway watching you with the most unimpressed expression.

“…What are you doing?” he asked flatly.

You took a slow breath. Then, with all the seriousness of a battle-hardened warrior, you said:

“Let’s go.”

Jay blinked. “Go where?”

“To war.” You turned and grabbed an apron, tying it around your waist swiftly. “Tonight, I become a chef.”

Jay groaned as he was dragging a hand down his face. “Oh my god. No.”

“Yes.” You opened the fridge with purpose. Your eyes scan its contents. “I will cook. And you will teach me.”

“I never agreed to this.”

You turned to him. “You are my mentor. My guide. My—”

“I literally never agreed to this,” he repeated, but you were already gathering ingredients, your mind was set.

Jay sighed as he rubbed the back of his neck. He should’ve just walked out, gone home, and left you to whatever chaos you were about to cause. But instead, he leaned against the counter and muttered, “Fine. But don’t start crying when you ruin something.”

You grinned. “I would never.”

Fifteen minutes in, you were a wreck.

Tears streamed down your face as you aggressively rubbed your eyes with the back of your hand. You were sniffling so hard.

Jay squinted at you. “…Are you crying?”

You sniffled. “No.”

“You are.”

“It’s just—” You wiped your sleeve across your face, only to wince when the burning worsened. “Why do my eyes feel like they’re on fire?!”

Jay blinked. Then, very slowly, he pointed at the cutting board. “You do know onions make you cry, right?”

You stared at him while mouth slightly open. Then, in pure confusion, you looked down at your hands.

“…Wait.” You squinted. “Is that why?”

Jay’s jaw dropped. “You—you didn’t know?!”

You gasped. “I thought my body was just rejecting cooking!”

Jay dragged a hand down his face. “Oh my god.”

Still wholly clueless, you kept rubbing at your eyes…

with the same onion-covered hands.

Immediately, you let out a strangled noise. “WHY IS IT GETTING WORSE?!”

Jay smacked his forehead. “Stop rubbing your eyes!”

“But they sting!”

“BECAUSE YOU’RE RUBBING ONION JUICE ALL OVER THEM!”

The realization finally hit you. You froze, hands still pressed against your face.

“…Oh.”

There was a pause. Then, Jay let out a soft, breathy laugh, barely audible at first, like he wasn’t even aware he was doing it. He pressed a hand against his lips. You could see his shoulders shaking slightly. The sound wasn’t mocking or loud… it was quiet, amused, genuine.

You frowned. “Are you laughing?”

Jay exhaled, looking down for a second before meeting your gaze again. “No.”

“You so are.”

Jay let out another chuckle before reaching for your wrist. “Come here.”

He guided you toward the sink, turning on the faucet. He didn’t say much, gently nudging your hands under the running water to help you rinse them off. His touch was careful.

“…You laughed,” you mumbled while watching him out of the corner of your eye.

Jay huffed softly and shook his head as he grabbed a towel to dry his hands. “Maybe.”

You stared at him. “You never laugh.”

Jay glanced at you, then looked away as he wiped his hands. “Guess you’re just that ridiculous.”

You pouted. “Hey—”

Before you could finish, he flicked a drop of water at your face, his smirk widening slightly.

For some reason, your face suddenly felt warmer than before.

♟️

You were stirring the sauce as brows furrowed in concentration. Jay stood beside you,

“Not bad,” he murmured, peering over your shoulder.

You perked up. “Really?”

“Mhm.” Jay reached over, his hand brushing against yours as he adjusted your grip on the spoon. “But you’re stirring too aggressively. It’s sauce, not a workout.”

You rolled your eyes but followed his guidance, stirring slower.

Silence settled between you, but it wasn’t awkward. It was comfortable. The only sounds were the pot's gentle bubbling and the occasional spoon scrape against the pan.

Then, suddenly—

“Jay.”

He hummed.

You turned your head slightly, only to realize how close he was. His face was just inches away. You could see the sharpness of his jaw and the slight curve of his lips.

Your heart stuttered.

“…You have flour on your cheek.”

Jay blinked. “What?”

You grinned. Before he could react, you reached up, swiping your thumb against his cheek. “There.”

Jay stiffened. His eyes flickered to yours, and neither moved for a second. He didn’t pull away. If anything, he leaned in, his eyes dropping to your lips for the briefest moment before going back up.

It happened so quickly and naturally that you almost didn’t process it.

A soft press of lips.

Warm. Gentle. Just a second, maybe two…barely enough time for your brain to catch up.

Then Jay pulled back,

You blinked.

He blinked.

Then, instead of scrambling for words or looking away, Jay exhaled softly. A small smile, barely there but real…tugged at his lips as he tilted his head slightly.

“Oh…” he murmured. His eyes softened as he looked at you. “What would I do if I never met you?”

For once, you had no words.

And Jay… Jay just kept smiling.

♟️

You both sat at the kitchen counter, and the freshly cooked meal was between you. For once, it wasn’t just Jay’s cooking. It was something both of you had made together. Jay picked up a spoon and scooped up a bit of the dish. You watched as he took the first bite,

Your fingers fidgeted slightly against your lap. “…So?”

Jay chewed slowly, eyes narrowing as if analyzing every flavor and texture. You swore he was dragging this out on purpose.

Then, after what felt like forever, he exhaled softly. “It’s… not bad.”

You gasped. “Not bad? Jay, that’s practically a Michelin-star review coming from you!”

His lips twitched. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.” Then, without hesitation, he scooped up another bite and held the spoon out toward you.

Your eyes widened slightly. “Oh, you don’t have to—”

“Just eat.”

Not one to refuse food, you quickly leaned forward, taking a bite.

The moment the flavors hit your tongue, your eyes lit up. “Oh my god—” You barely even finished chewing before eating at your usual speed before reaching for another bite.

Jay raised an eyebrow. “Hey. Slow down.”

You barely heard him, too caught up in how delicious it was. “I can’t! It’s so good!”

Jay sighed, shaking his head, but his expression had no real annoyance. It's something softer. Fond.

“…You’re one of a kind” he murmured, more to himself than to you.

You grinned at him while still chewing.

His ears turned slightly pink, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he chuckled and reached over, ruffling your hair gently before pulling his hand away. He shook his head. “Finish your food.”

And so you did.

♟️

Since that night in the kitchen, things between you and Jay had felt… different. Not in a bad way. Just softer. Warmer. He wasn’t as quick to roll his eyes at you anymore, and sometimes, you caught him watching you for no reason.

Today, the two of you had decided to hang out outside of the restaurant, outside of work. It was nothing extravagant, just a simple walk through a quiet part of the city, stopping by different food stalls because you couldn’t eat while out. As you happily munched on some street food, Jay suddenly cleared his throat beside you.

You glanced at him. “What’s up?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a small box, and handed it to you.

“Huh? What’s this?” you said, confused, while accepting the box.

“Just open it.”

You gave him a suspicious look but did as told, flipping open the box. Inside sat a small but delicate pastry. Something handcrafted, topped with intricate chocolate lettering that read:

“I love you. Will you be my girlfriend?”

You stared at it. Then at him. Then, back at the pastry.

Silence.

And then—

You burst out laughing.

Jay’s face turned red in an instant. “Why are you laughing?”

You clutched your stomach, still laughing between breaths. “Because! This is so you! Instead of just saying it, you baked the question?”

Jay groaned and rubbed his face. “I knew you’d react like this.”

Still grinning, you looked at him. “Of course, I’ll be your girlfriend, chef.”

Jay exhaled, his shoulders relaxing because he had been holding his breath the whole time. But then, he quickly narrowed his eyes at you. “You still have to eat that, you know.”

You picked up the pastry with a smirk. “Obviously.”

And with that, you took a big bite,

Answering him in the best way you knew how.

♟️

The kitchen was alive with movement. The clang of pots and pans echoed against the walls as chefs moved swiftly to prepare for one of the year's most meaningful events. Jay stood at the center, commanding the room with his sharp gaze and precise instructions. “Keep the plating clean. We need consistency across all dishes,” he ordered, scanning the line of chefs. “Timing is everything tonight. If one dish is late, it throws off the whole rhythm. Stay focused.”

He was strict, but only because he wanted everything to be correct.

And then—

He saw you.

Standing at the kitchen entrance, watching him with that bright, familiar smile.

His expression softened in an instant. His tense grip on his clipboard relaxed, and before anyone could say anything, he walked over to you and gently kissed your forehead. “You’re early,” he murmured, his voice losing its previous sharpness.

You grinned. “Figured I’d get a sneak peek of the magic before the event starts.”

Jay chuckled. “You’re lucky I’m making an exception for you being in here.”

You pouted. “I’m always the exception.”

He rolled his eyes but smiled anyway. “Let’s step outside for a bit before I get pulled back in.”

The two of you found a corner outside the kitchen,

“You’re amazing at this, you know,” you said as you watched him fondly. “You look so in your element back there.”

Jay sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s stressful, but yeah… I love it.”

“And I love watching you do what you love.”

He looked at you softly. “You always say things like that so easily.”

You shrugged. “It’s because I mean them.”

Jay exhaled and shook his head with a quiet laugh. “I swear, you’re gonna be the death of me.”

You leaned in, resting your head on his shoulder. “At least you’ll be well-fed.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Yeah… I think I can live with that.”

As the evening carried on, as the restaurant filled with guests and the kitchen came alive with the sound of cooking, Jay worked with a little more lightness in his heart,

Because no matter how busy or stressful things got, he knew that you'd always be there at the end of the day.

888 notes · View notes

lmvari · 4 months ago

Text

do you mind? (repost)

summary. sharing a table with a stranger at a crowded café, only to realize they’re far more interesting than you expected.

characters. xiao, scaramouche, heizou, venti, kazuha x gn!reader (separate)

tags. modern au, fluff, crack

warnings. kind of ooc xiao and kazuha, alcohol in venti's

XIAO

Internally panicking, but he welcomes you to the table with a small nod. He’s the reserved type—the kind to look anywhere but in your general direction just to avoid eye contact. Archons, how many times has he glanced out the window just to stare at that decorative plant? He even counted the leaves.

Social interaction isn’t his strong suit. And it certainly doesn’t help that you’re attractive.

If he had his way, he’d sit in silence, letting the passing seconds fill the space between you. But his own discomfort betrays him. Hands fidgeting under the table, fingers tracing the rim of his cup, gaze flickering to anything but you.

He feigns indifference, arms crossed, posture rigid.

But then—you speak. Because, for some reason, you find him interesting.

You introduce yourself first, then ask for his name.

His heart stumbles in his chest. He’s unsure if it’s from nerves or the sheer absurdity of the situation. Someone willingly trying to talk to him, despite his obvious attempts to fade into the background.

Though his palms are slightly damp from tension, he keeps his voice steady, his expression unreadable. Flat tone. Unwavering gaze. A carefully maintained air of disinterest.

You frown. A subtle shift, but he notices.

That’s a cue, isn’t it? A signal that you’ll leave him alone now. That’s what he wanted… right?

Then why does something in his chest sink when you simply nod, pressing your lips into a thin line, offering nothing more?

He exhales quietly. Curses himself. He just lost the chance to get to know you.

But this is the first time someone’s been able to catch his attention. So he thinks of a way to redeem himself.

"Oh. Okay." You say in response to his answer, forcing yourself to sound indifferent. But truthfully, you’re embarrassed.

You spent a whole ten minutes bouncing your leg, debating whether or not you should make the first move, only to be met with disappointment after finally mustering up the courage.

You bite your bottom lip and tap your fingers on the table, falling silent. Now, all you can do is wait for the servers to call your order so you can leave. You seriously don’t want to embarrass yourself further in front of this stranger.

“I, uh...”

A voice cuts through your thoughts.

You don’t assume right away that he’s talking to you, so you keep your gaze averted, pretending not to notice.

Then, a cough. Loud enough that you instinctively glance up in concern.

Your eyes widen slightly when you find him already looking at you.

“Yes?” You ask, taken aback that he was referring to you. There’s a flicker of curiosity in your expression, maybe even a bit of hope.

He hesitates. “…I'm sorry.” His voice is quieter this time, almost unsure. “I didn’t mean to come across as cold earlier.”

The shift in his tone is subtle, but you catch it. Gone is the detached, indifferent edge from before.

You smile, relieved. "No, no, don't worry about it! I get like that sometimes too."

He exhales lightly. Almost as if… reassured. After a beat, he offers a small, hesitant smile in return. It’s brief, but it’s there.

It suits him, you think.

It’s cute that he chose to apologize instead of just letting it be. Most people would’ve moved on, unwilling to make things more awkward. But he didn't.

And then—

"I'm not used to people." He pauses. “…Especially ones like you.”

A beat of silence.

You blink. Wait. What?

His own words seem to register a second too late.

You watch as his shoulders tense slightly, his fingers curling into a loose fist on his lap. The tips of his ears are… pink?

Oh.

Was that supposed to be a compliment? Was he flirting with you? No way. He doesn’t seem like the flirty type. He’s definitely more socially awkward than you. Maybe he didn’t mean it like that.

But before you can overthink it—

“…If it’s okay with you, may I have your number?”

SCARAMOUCHE / WANDERER

Glares at you menacingly. Like a cat trying to hiss someone away.

Him? Sharing a table? With some random nobody? Absolutely not. This table is his.

Without breaking eye contact, he places his bag on the chair in front of him. A silent warning. Don’t even think about it.

"It's occupied," he deadpans before returning to whatever he was doing.

You, unimpressed, grab his bag and dump it on the table. Then you plop down into the chair, arms crossed, staring him down as if to say: "Try and get me out of this seat, you brat."

His mouth parted slightly, just for a second, before snapping shut. Did you just—? The audacity.

A scoff escapes him as he leans back in his chair, arms crossed, his glare sharper than ever. His fingers drum against his bicep as he mutters under his breath—something that sounds suspiciously like, "At least you're not completely spineless." Not that he’d ever say it directly.

But since the café is packed and dragging you out by the collar would be frowned upon, he begrudgingly allows it.

For the most part, he ignores you. Or at least, he tries to. You pretend not to notice the irritated glances he throws your way every time you smile at your phone or stifle a laugh.

Then a server approaches.

She sets your drink down and takes a brief look at the two of you. No food orders yet. Her eyes brighten as she leans in slightly, all smiles.

"We actually have a 25% couple's discount for two strawberry shortcakes!"

Silence.

His stare darkens.

He looks at her like she just personally insulted his entire bloodline. If he had one in this universe, anyway. His lips part, undoubtedly to say something cruel enough to make her rethink her entire career.

But before he can, you slap a hand over his mouth.

"That sounds great! We’ll take it!" you chirp, grinning at the waitress as if your life doesn’t currently depend on keeping Scaramouche from verbally eviscerating an innocent employee.

The server’s eyes sparkle with delight as she scribbles down the order. She even hums.

He looks personally offended.

You heave a sigh as the server finally walks away. Just as you’re about to relax, you feel a vibration against your palm. The glaring stranger is trying to speak, his voice muffled against your hand.

Then, before you can react—

His tongue moves.

He licks your palm.

Slow. Wet. Deliberate.

"Gross!" You yank your hand away, scrubbing it furiously against his sleeve.

He swats you off instantly, recoiling like you just infected him with the plague. "Get your germs off of me!" he snaps.

"You're the one who just licked my hand!" you retort, scandalized.

His scowl deepens. His expression alone speaks volumes.

"The hell was that for? First, you hog my table—"

"I wasn’t hogging it, we needed to share!"

"—interrupting my peace with your presence—"

"I was minding my own business!"

"—and then you have the absolute audacity to make us out as some kind of couple?!"

"Shut up, they might hear you! We’ll lose the discount!" you hiss, glancing around in case the staff overheard. The people in the vicinity gave looks of concern at your direction.

He scoffs. "You have some nerve."

You roll your eyes. So dramatic. Acting like you just ruined his life.

"I had to grab the opportunity. It’s strawberry shortcake."

He clicks his tongue. "That’s your excuse?"

"It’s strawberry shortcake," you repeat as if that alone explains everything.

He huffs, crossing his arms. "Fine. Go eat your stupid cake."

"You don’t want some?"

"I hate cakes."

You blink. Who the hell hates cake?

"Why?"

His eyes narrow. "Why? Because I hate them. I hate sweets in general. Life isn’t sweet. Life is full of bitterness and sorrow. I don’t get how people manage to laugh in this world. It’s annoying."

…Wow. That escalated.

How did a conversation about shortcakes turn into a monologue about the inherent misery of existence?

"What the hell? Who hurt you?" you mutter.

"My mother."

You suck in a sharp breath.

The words are so blunt, so casually spoken, that it takes you a second to process. Your lips twitch. No. You shouldn’t laugh.

But the longer you stare at his deadpan face, the harder it is to hold back. A chuckle slips out. Then another.

Hey, this guy is kind of funny. He's growing on you.

He gives you a baffled look like you’re the crazy one for finding humor in his trauma dump.

His brows furrow, and for a brief second, his gaze lingers—not in irritation, but in something else. Something almost mesmerized. He mutters something too quiet to catch before looking away, resting his head on his palm.

You inhale deeply, composing yourself. "Fine. I'll eat both cakes, then. I'm the one paying anyway."

He doesn’t respond, just glares at nothing in particular.

Minutes later, the same cheerful server returns with a tray of two servings of strawberry shortcake. Just as you reach for your wallet—

A hand beats you to it.

The stranger slaps down his own cash before you can even open your bag.

The server’s grin widens. "Ah, paying for the date? How chivalrous!" she chimes, her voice far too amused, before skipping away.

You freeze. Wait.

Did he just let her think that?

Your gaze snaps to him, utterly bewildered. He doesn’t even deny it—just grabs one of the plates and starts stabbing the cake with his fork.

"I thought you said you don’t like sweets."

"That’s right," he mutters before taking a grumpy bite.

You narrow your eyes. "Then why—"

He chews, swallows, and then shrugs, avoiding your gaze.

"Would be a real waste of my money if I didn’t enjoy it with you."

HEIZOU

Has been watching you since you entered the café. Not in a creepy way, just subtle, observant, like he’s solving a case. And wow you are stunning. The way your eyes scan the room, looking for an open seat, tells him you’re about to approach him.

He makes his move first.

"Over here!" he waves, voice warm and inviting, like he's an old friend waiting for you. You hesitate, confused. Do you know this guy? But with no other seats available, you accept with a small, grateful smile.

Big mistake. Or maybe the best decision you’ve made today.

Because once you sit, he talks. And flirts. And teases. And somehow, he already knows things about you.

Will ask you all sorts of questions: What's your name? Your age? Your birthday? Your favorite color? Any pets? Exes?

Even taking guesses as to what your answers might be. and he got them all right, if not, then close. But every now and then, he throws in something completely unexpected:

"What's your ideal type? Is it me?"

"Aside from being pretty, what do you do for a living?"

"Have you ever committed a crime before? Because now you have." He says while clutching his chest.

You nearly choke on your drink. Heizou just grins, clearly enjoying himself.

"Alright, your turn. You can interrogate me now," he offers, eyes gleaming with amusement.

And so you do. Because he’s interesting. Charming. Smart. Too smart. And when he leans in slightly, studying your features like he’s committing them to memory, you feel yourself getting drawn in, too.

Heizou hums in thought. "You’ve got the kind of face that belongs in a painting," he muses. "I’d describe it more, but I’d rather see how flustered you get first."

You roll your eyes, trying (and failing) to suppress a smile.

He'd be the type to reach out and take small bites of your food while chatting. He does it so shamelessly that you're impressed, so you just let him.

This boy is so confident with himself, flirting so casually like it's second nature.

He wouldn't go as far as to touch you, of course. He knows his limits and will keep his hands to himself. But he acts so relaxed and friendly with you that you think maybe he's just playing you.

You’re not dumb. You know he’s interested in you.

It’s not like he’s being subtle about it, either. The lingering glances, the teasing smirks, the way his eyes light up whenever you react to his words. It’s obvious.

And sure, you feel the same way. But still.

Is this how he always approaches strangers? Does he flirt for fun, or does he actually mean to follow through? How many people have fallen for his tricks before?

A thoughtful hum breaks your train of thought. Heizou taps his chin lightly, then suddenly snaps his fingers. A habit you’ve noticed ever since you sat down.

"Your expression tells me you’re doubting my motives. Correct?"

You blink in surprise. Then chuckle softly, shaking your head. Damn, he’s good.

"That’s right. A point for you, detective."

He lets out a breathy laugh, eyes twinkling with amusement. "Funny you say that. Being a detective is my full-time job."

Your lips part slightly in surprise. He never mentioned that before. But now it all makes sense. The way he reads you like an open book, the way he asks questions so effortlessly, the way he makes it feel like you’re being studied and he’s enjoying every second of it.

"That’s quite… attractive." You admit, cheeks warming slightly.

Heizou leans back in his chair, arms crossed, looking far too pleased with himself. "You think so?" His grin widens, but there’s a new glint in his gaze now.

"Then allow me to clear up any lingering doubts, sweetheart." He tilts his head slightly, voice dropping just enough to make your stomach flip.

"I do plan on pursuing you."

Oh.

Your heart stumbles. You were not prepared for him to be that straightforward.

Heizou watches your reaction, clearly amused. Then, with a dramatic sigh, he shakes his head. "Only a true detective can crack the case of this heart theft, you know."

A teasing pause. Then, the final blow.

"And my prime suspect… is you."

VENTI

When you approach him, the faint yet unmistakable scent of alcohol lingers in the air. He’s drunk. In the middle of the day. At a café.

Wait. Do they even serve alcohol here?

His head rests lazily on his folded arms, eyelids heavy, lips slightly parted. If it weren’t for the gentle rise and fall of his shoulders, you’d think he was fast asleep. Beside him, a humble coffee cup sits suspiciously untouched. Your curiosity gets the better of you, and you lean in for a peek.

Yep. It’s alcohol.

How the hell did he sneak that in? More importantly, how has no one caught him yet? You glance around, half-expecting an employee to scold him, but they just pass him by like he’s invisible. Maybe he’s a regular here.

Deciding not to wake him, you quietly settle into the seat across from him, giving him space.

Then, without warning, he jolts awake.

"Oh! Hello, stranger!"

He’s suddenly wide awake. No sluggish blinking, no groggy confusion, just pure, unbothered energy. You flinch at the unexpected enthusiasm.

He doesn’t ask why you’re here. He doesn’t even bother to ask your name. Instead, he jumps straight into conversation as if you’re an old friend who’s been here all along.

And somehow, you go along with it.

With an animated grin, he launches into the most ridiculous stories you’ve ever heard.

"Earlier, I saw this red-haired guy absolutely demolish some blue-haired guy in a fight. It was spectacular! Ehe~!"

You blink. Excuse me?

That’s just one of the things he shares. He never runs out of things to say. Wild, chaotic, oddly fascinating things. Like?? Does he see stuff like that on a daily basis?

And despite nearly passing out five minutes ago, he speaks so effortlessly that you start questioning if he was even drunk to begin with.

Like Heizou, he will also steal some of the pastries you ordered, albeit in a more subtle manner. He thinks you don't notice this lol.

"You've got fine taste in sweets, stranger!" he hums, twirling a fork between his fingers. "Tell me, what's your opinion on wine?"

You blink at the sudden shift in topic but answer with an amused smile. "I don’t really know much about it. I just drink whatever I feel like."

Venti gasps dramatically, "Hah, I thought so! I cou—"

His sentence is abruptly cut off by a hiccup. You barely suppress a laugh as you slide a glass of water toward him.

"Whoops! My bad!" He lets out a bubbly giggle, taking the water with a flourish. After downing a few sips, he clears his throat with an exaggerated ahem.

"As I was saying—" He pauses for effect. "If you're interested in wine, I’d be delighted to educate you! I’d say I’m an expert.”

You tilt your head playfully. "I can tell."

His eyes twinkle with mischief. "But if you're not..."

He leans in slightly, voice dropping to a low, teasing whisper.

"I'm still very interested in having a drink with you sometime. You’re quite the gorgeous stranger, you know."

Before you can fully process the compliment, he winks. Smooth, confident, entirely shameless.

"So," he muses, resting his chin in his palm.

“What do you say about keeping in touch?"

KAZUHA

Kazuha is probably the most normal one out of the bunch. No glares, no drunken ramblings, no interrogation-like questioning. Just a warm, endearing smile as he gestures toward the empty seat across from him.

He even stands up, gently pulling your chair back for you. A small but thoughtful gesture. One that makes your heart skip just a little.

"Please, have a seat." His voice is soft, and smooth, like a passing breeze on a summer afternoon.

As you settle in, he strikes up a light conversation, asking about your day with genuine curiosity. He listens intently, nodding along, occasionally offering small comments that make you feel at ease.

And unlike a certain maroon-haired flirt or a wine-loving bard, instead of stealing your food, he offers you his. With a slight nudge, he pushes his plate toward you.

"Would you like to try some?" His expression is hopeful.

You shake your head, feeling too shy to accept. "Oh, no, it’s yours. I couldn’t."

He pouts. Actually pouts.

"Come on, just a bite. Humor me." He even throws in the puppy eyes.

And damn it, how could you refuse that face?

Reluctantly, you take a tiny piece with your fork, just enough to taste.

He notices. And he’s not having it.

Without a word, he cuts a larger piece, lifting it toward your lips with his own fork.

"Say aah," he coaxes, his smile both playful and teasing.

Your face burns hotter than the café’s espresso machine, but you comply, letting him feed you.

His expression softens, eyes twinkling with quiet satisfaction.

But just when you think it couldn't get worse—

He leans forward slightly, his gaze dropping to your lips.

Before you can react, he reaches out, thumb brushing lightly against the corner of your mouth.

Then, with a casual grace that should not be allowed, he brings his thumb to his lips, licking off the stray bit of cream.

And smiles.

Innocently.

As if he didn’t just send your soul straight into the abyss.

You stare at him, utterly flustered, while he simply sips his tea, acting as though he didn’t just casually destroy you in broad daylight.

"You're acting awfully sweet to a stranger," you point out, tilting your head at him.

Kazuha hums thoughtfully, swirling his tea. Then, he gives you a small, shy smile.

"Am I? Well... how could I not, if the stranger is you?"

Smooth. Too smooth.

He gives you a shy smile. "We could fix the 'stranger' part. How about friends?"

You giggle softly. "Are you sure just friends?"

He gives you a playful look. "Well, we could be more in the future."

His laugh is light, airy. Like the whisper of wind through maple leaves. But then, something seems to dawn on him, and his expression shifts.

"But—" he pauses, suddenly looking sheepish. "If you're already seeing someone, being friends is enough."

Oh, that's adorable.

You giggle behind your hand, heartwarming at his sincerity. After all that flirting, he's still worried about stepping over a line.

"Don't worry," you reassure him, "I've never dated anyone."

His eyes widen slightly, genuine disbelief flickering across his face.

"Is that so?" He tilts his head. "That's surprising. I thought someone like you would be off the market by now."

You shrug, smirking at him. He leans in just a little, voice dropping to a gentle murmur, as if sharing a secret.

His gaze locks onto yours, warm, admiring.

“I get to find and keep the treasure, then? What an honor.”

note. ah yes the work i was most proud of back then lol anw i’m planning to make a part 2 for this idk when tho maybe when i feel like it. i improved a few bits from the original and this is not proofread! i literally just skimmed through the text and changed a few stuff hope u enjoyed say hi if u remembered this

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genshinluvr · 2 months ago

Text

Amphoreus Amnesia

Pairings: Various HSR Men x Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: You suddenly vanish off the face of the universe with no trace for months. One day, the Astral Express receives a message from someone from another world, Amphoreus.

Note: I'm, like, still behind on HSR quests, so the newly added characters (Jiaoqiu, Moze, Mydei, Phainon, and Anaxa) will be out of character since I didn't meet some of them, nor have I interacted with them as much as I have with others. I'm going to be posting new fanfics based on the options from the poll from a while ago. The next fanfic that will be posted/updated is the LADS fanfic because it came in third place. My Discord server has been officially open for a little over a week now, but the link has expired. New Discord server links will be linked at the end of the fic. Anyway, I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr), Ko-Fi (also Genshinluvr/Aaliah_exo), and AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: Newly added characters will be ooc due to being behind on HSR quests, slight yandere Sunday?

Word Count: 8.3k

It’s been seven months. Seven months since you went missing, and no one has heard a single thing from you. No one— from the Herta Space Station to Jarilo-VI to the Xianzhou Luofu to Penacony— has given the Astral Express crew any updates on your whereabouts. There aren’t any sightings of you despite there being a search party working tirelessly to find you. Heck, even the Aeon of Destruction can’t get a hold of you, and it’s driving everyone crazy. The Astral Express remains in Penacony, assuming you’re probably lost in the Dreamscape, like how you were when you first set foot on the Planet of Festivities. But much to everyone’s dismay, there have been no sightings whatsoever.

The Astral Express crew stands before Sunday, Aventurine, Robin, Boothill, and Gallagher, all waiting to hear the possible updates on your whereabouts.

Sunday shakes his head, sighing. “I’m sorry, but there have not been any sightings of [Y/N], Mr. Yang. We have done everything we can to search for them, but it’s like they have disappeared without a trace.”

“Please tell me this isn’t like the similar incident a while back when it was [Y/N]’s first time visiting Penacony,” Aventurine sighs, rubbing his temples. “You all need to put them on a leash if that’s the case.”

Dan Heng, Caelus, and March glare at Aventurine in response to his comment. If only that were the case, because when that happened a few months prior, you were found hours later, safe and sound. But it’s been seven months. Seven. Months.

Gallagher glares at Aventurine and elbows him in the ribs, causing the blond man to grunt. “I’m sorry, Aventurine, but are you new here? The Astral Express crew has requested us to search for [Y/N] for seven months. [Y/N]’s been missing way longer compared to the first incident.”

Before Aventurine can retort, Dr. Ratio approaches from behind and smacks him upside the head. Aventurine’s head snaps in Dr. Ratio’s direction, rubbing the back of his head while scowling at him. Dan Heng sighs, shaking his head.

Dr. Ratio crosses his arms over his chest. “Have you tried contacting the Aeon of Destruction about [Y/N]’s whereabouts? They seem rather…” Dr. Ratio trails off, looking around Penacony as if trying to find the right word to describe your and Nanook’s relationship, “close with one another.”

Welt sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose before explaining to Dr. Ratio that your and Nanook’s bond is special. Not special in the sense that an Aeon is attached to a human from another dimension, but special to the point where you two can communicate and meet each other through dreams. Caelus furrows his eyebrows. He could’ve sworn that the relationship between you and Nanook had been explained plenty of times before.

“The Aeon of Destruction somehow channels his power to bring someone from another fucking dimension to our world is pretty damn impressive,” Boothill mutters, stroking his chin. “Never knew that was possible, but if you really want something or someone, anything is possible.”

Everyone makes their way back to The Reverie, now standing in the lobby of the hotel. As the Astral Express crew is getting ready to return to the Astral Express, a large group of familiar faces approaches.

“General Jing Yuan, what brings you here?” Dan Heng asks, trading looks with Caelus.

Jing Yuan smiles at Dan Heng and props his hands on his hips. The General subconsciously scans the crowd, searching for a familiar face. The very same face that suddenly disappeared off the face of the universe without a trace. Much to his dismay, the General does not see the face he yearns to see again after so long. After not receiving a response from the General of the Xianzhou Luofu, Dan Heng clears his throat.

Jing Yuan blinks and rubs the back of his neck with a sheepish smile. “I, and the others, are here to inform you all that we have yet to find [Y/N],” Jing Yuan replies, his smile slipping off.

“And judging by the look on your faces, none of you has been successful with the search either?” Blade asks, crossing his arms over his chest while scanning the hotel lobby.

Welt shakes his head. With the large crowd gathering where the Astral Express crew is standing, guests at The Reverie Hotel can’t help but stare with curiosity. A large crowd of people from outside the Planet of Festivities, with members of The Family among the crowd, is bound to draw mass attention.

“Let’s talk on the Astral Express. With matters like this, we don’t want to draw unwanted attention.” Welt says, motioning everyone to follow.

On the Astral Express, everyone gathers in the Parlor Car, staring at the large hologram of the maps the Astral Express crew has visited. The same place you could have disappeared to, but failed to be traced in any of the locations.

“Have any of you tried reaching out to Nanook by chance? The Aeon of Destruction is linked to [Y/N],” Luocha mutters, never taking his eyes off the hologram map for a second.

Caelus rolls his eyes. “The only person who can get in touch with Nanook is [Y/N]. Aside from that, none of us,” Caelus gestures to him and the other Astral Express members, “has a way to reach out to the Aeon.”

Moze rolls his eyes and pinches his glabella, annoyed with the outcome of the situation. “Great, so we’re at another dead end.”

The Shadow Guard throws himself on the nearest chair and buries his face into the palm of his hands. While Moze knew you for a short period of time, your presence grew on him, and Moze grew quite fond of you (even though he doesn’t want to admit it). For you to suddenly disappear without a trace for seven, almost eight, months feels suspicious. You didn’t even bring your phone with you, which is strange because Moze could’ve sworn that your screen time is past twelve hours a day.

“I will do everything in my power to find [Y/N] and bring them back safe,” Argenti says, placing his hand over his heart.

Sampo huffs, plopping down on the couch. “Not if I find my gumdrop first! I’m sure [Y/N] would rather have me save them than someone in a full suit of armor. What are you? Their knight in shining armor?” Sampo mutters, looking off to the side while pouting.

Argenti raises his eyebrows at Sampo’s comment, the corner of his lips curving up with amusement. Clearly, anyone with eyes can see that Argenti is, in fact, your knight in shining armor. There’s no denying it because he is the only one in full armor while others wear some armor in other parts of their bodies as an accessory.

“We can’t just sit here and do nothing. If we give up now, who knows what could happen to [Y/N] the longer we stall,” Gepard says, hands balled into tight fists. “I’m sure they’re somewhere out there. We can’t give up.”

Luka holds his hands up, raising his eyebrows at Gepard’s outburst. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Who’s saying that we’re giving up? I've got all the time in the world to look for [Y/N]. In fact, the longer this drags out, the more motivated I feel to keep on pushing,” Luka says, jumping in one spot while stretching his shoulders.

While the men converse with each other and plan out the next step, Jiaoqiu's ears perk up when hearing something strange. The muttering around him makes it nearly impossible for Jiaoqiu to pinpoint where this strange noise is coming from. The foxian healer closes his eyes and listens closely, drowning out the chatter around him. There’s a beeping sound coming from somewhere in the Parlor Car.

“Does anyone else hear that beeping noise, or am I going crazy?” Jiaoqiu speaks up, grabbing the other’s attention.

Everyone in the Parlor Car goes silent, trying to hear what Jiaoqiu is hearing. The longer everyone sits in silence, the louder the beeping becomes for Jiaoqiu. The foxian healer gets up from his seat and slowly walks to where the beeping is coming from, his ears perked up, twitching each time the beeping goes off.

“You have an interstellar message. Please check it promptly,” says the system.

March peeks from Welt’s shoulders, confused. “Interstellar message? Who could it be from?” March mutters, crossing her arms over her chest as she watches the older man tap on the screen.

Almost immediately, a hologram of the sender of the interstellar message materializes before everyone. The man, muscular with shoulder-length ombre blond and red hair, crosses his arms over his chest, staring—no, glaring—at everyone in the Astral Express. The man doesn’t say anything, but continues to glare at whoever his eyes land on.

The blond man clears his throat. “Is this the Astral Express?” He asks, his deep voice filling the silence of the Astral Express.

Welt nods. “Yes, this is the Astral Express. May I ask who I am speaking to?” Welt asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I am the Crown Prince of Kremnos, Mydeimos, but you can all call me Mydei. Several months ago, the world of Amphoreus received a distress signal about a missing person who goes by the name of [Y/N].” Mydei says, letting his arms fall to his side.

After hearing the mention of your name, everyone in the room immediately straightens up and walks over to where the hologram of Mydei stands. From the other side of the hologram stands the glorious Crown Prince of Kremnos, who tries to keep his composure while ignoring the bickering in the background. Mydei’s yellow eyes scan every person who shows up on the hologram.

“We should demand a reward for finding this missing person!” The white-haired man loudly whispers from behind Mydei.

The greenish-gray-haired man scoffs in response. “Are you an idiot? Who would demand such a thing after discovering—”

Mydei’s head snaps in the duo’s direction, shutting them up immediately. Mydei scowls at them, as if telling them to shut the hell up and let him speak to the people on the hologram. Mydei takes a deep breath and turns back to the Astral Express crew (and others), fixing his composure.

“Helloooo? What were you going to say about [Y/N] and the distress signal?” Sampo asks, waving his hands to grab the Crown Prince’s attention.

Gepard sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose while shaking his head. “Have you ever thought of keeping your mouth shut? Let Mr. Yang speak to the Crown Prince of Kremnos.” Gepard mutters, glaring at Sampo from behind his hands.

Sampo laughs and gives Gepard and the other men on the Astral Express an apologetic smile before gesturing for Welt to take over. Welt sighs, turns back to the hologram of Mydei, and nods to the Crown Prince to continue where he left off. Mydei goes into detail about finding you in Amphoreus, heavily injured and unconscious, barely hanging onto life.

Caelus’s eyes nearly pop out of his skull. “What do you mean [Y/N] is in Amphoreus!? How did they end up over there?! We have yet to set foot in your world!” Caelus exclaims, running his hands through his hair.

The white-haired man pops up on the hologram beside Mydei. “That’s a mystery for us, too! Imagine how confused we were when we saw an outsider, who fit the missing person’s description, in our world.”

An arm appears out of nowhere on the hologram, grabbing the white-haired man by the ears. “Dammit, Phainon. Don’t butt into conversations that has nothing to do with you,” a mysterious voice hisses, yanking Phainon out of view.

“But Anaxa!” Phainon whines, swatting at the arm while being dragged out of view.

Mydei rubs his temples, sighing and shaking his head. The Crown Prince apologizes to Welt before proceeding where he had left off before being interrupted by Phainon and Anaxa.

“If you wish to see [Y/N], you are welcome to do so. That is why I reached out to the Astral Express, because I know you all have tirelessly searched the cosmos for them. However, there is an issue…” Mydei trails off.

Dan Heng stares at Mydei, fists clenched at his side. “What is the issue aside from [Y/N] being heavily injured?”

Phainon peeks from Mydei’s shoulders. “You’ll have to see for yourselves. It’s best to be here in person when given more information on their condition,” Phainon says before disappearing.

And with that, the communication between the Crown Prince and the Astral Express ends there. Gallagher sighs, crossing his arms. “The Aeon of Destruction is not going to like this if we ever get in touch,” Gallagher mutters, shaking his head.

Gallagher is, in fact, correct. The moment you open your eyes and find yourself in a strange place, floating before a giant being—a handsome giant being— you nearly have a panic attack. Sure, the giant white-haired being is handsome and shirtless, but seeing someone that huge is certainly a sight to behold.

The giant person suddenly disappears and is now standing before you as a regular-sized human. What is a regular-sized? He’s over 193 cm, practically towering over you like a skyscraper. His tough demeanor crumbles as he pulls you into his arms, letting out shaky breaths.

“You’re okay, little one. I’m so glad to see that you’re okay,” the white-haired man whispers into your hair, caressing your head.

You subconsciously wrap your arms around his waist, melting into his warm embrace. You can’t find the words to describe how you feel. The stars around you glimmer, casting a gentle glow. Everything feels so familiar, and yet, you don’t remember this person standing before you. You pull away from the hug, staring up at him, wordlessly.

The man cups your face in his large hands, looking deep into your eyes. “Little one, is there something wrong? Say something,” he pleads, gently brushing your cheek with his thumb.

You continue to stare at the man, breathless. He looks and feels so familiar, and yet you don’t remember his name or the memories you two once shared before regaining your consciousness.

“Who are you?” You whisper.

Hearing your question causes the world around you and this mysterious man to shake and crumble. You look around, terrified of what’s happening. The man in front of you quickly regains his composure, trying to remain cool, calm, and collected for you.

The man reaches for your hand and gently squeezes it. He then pulls your hand towards his face and presses a delicate kiss on your knuckles. “My name is Nanook. I am the Aeon of Destruction,” he says, his eyes never leaving your face.

“Nanook…” you whisper, staring at him with awe.

The universe around you starts to fade along with Nanook. You look at Nanook, panicked. Nanook sighs, shaking his head. As the world around you fades, you start to hear voices around you. It’s like you’re underwater; the voices are muffled but gradually becoming louder as you regain consciousness.

“Dear Aeons! They look horrendous!” Someone gasps in horror, startling you awake.

The room goes silent.

“Keep your voices down, dammit! Look what you did! You scared them before they could even fully regain their consciousness!” Another person, with a heavy southern accent, hisses with a smack accompanying the voice.

You crack your eyes open, flinching and squinting when the ceiling lights blind you. You cover your eyes for a moment, trying to adjust to the brightness. Once you have adjusted to the brightness of the room you’re in, you can’t help but be startled when you’re met with multiple eyes on you, staring at you with anticipation.

The redhead in full armor sighs, placing his hand over his chest. “Oh, thank Idrila, you’re okay,” the man says, beginning to walk towards you, only for a blond man (also in armor) to stop him by grabbing his shoulder.

“Mx. [Y/N], how are you feeling?” The man with wings for ears—wait, he does have human ears too… are the wings real?— asks, approaching your bed with a man with long blond hair.

You stare at each man in the room, not saying a word. They all trade looks, worried that the injuries you have sustained may have a greater impact than anticipated. The man with long blond hair stands over you, reassuring you that he’s going to check up on you after getting a nod of approval from the Crown Prince.

“Everything seems fine from what I’m seeing,” the blond man murmurs.

A tall man with long white hair turns to the Crown Prince, crossing his arms over his chest. “This Phainon person mentioned wanting to talk about [Y/N]’s condition in person. What is it that you want to discuss with us, Mydei?”

The Crown Prince opens his mouth to respond, only to close it before he could get a single word out. Mydei turns to you, giving you a fake smile. “We will be right back,” he says, giving the guests a look and gesturing for them to leave the room.

Confused, everyone slowly piles out of the room, muttering under their breath. The man with long blond hair soon follows the others once the majority of them have left the room. You watch the door close, now alone with your own thoughts. These men seem to know you, but you don’t know them. Or do you? You don’t have any recollection of any of these men, but this strange feeling in your chest feels unbearable. Out of all the injuries you have sustained, the one that hurts the most is your head. You subconsciously reach the back of your head, feeling the bandages wrapped around your head. The gauze feels thick and hard under your touch. You inspect your body, staring at every bandage, gauze, and cast hugging your body.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY LOST THEIR MEMORY?!” Someone bellow from the other side of the door.

You shrink back into the bed, only to hit the back of your head against the bed frame. You groan, clutching your head, closing your eyes. Gentle yet calloused hands cover your hand, making you peek from one eye while continuing to clutch your head.

“Don’t hurt yourself, now, little one,” Nanook murmurs, kneeling beside the bed.

You stare at Nanook with wide eyes, questioning how he managed to enter your room without being seen by the others outside the door. Before you can say anything, the door opens and the men file into the room, only to stop when they see Nanook beside you.

The foxian man crosses his arms over his chest, sighing. “See, I told you all that I wasn’t hallucinating.”

The blond-haired man with a fedora chuckles, propping his hands on his hips. “It’s good to see you again, Aeon of Destruction. Who knew that Mx. [Y/N] can summon you just like that?” the blond man chuckles.

Nanook glares at the group of men in front of you and proceeds to tuck your hair behind your ear, eyeing every part of you with concern.

You clear your throat, eyes drifting over to the Crown Prince. “How long have I been out for?” You ask, your voice hoarse.

“You’ve been unconscious for four months. You’re very fortunate that you didn’t succumb to your injuries,” Mydei says, crossing his arms over his chest.

The gray-haired man narrows his eyes at the Crown Prince. “You’re telling me that [Y/N] has been in Amphoreus for four out of the seven months they were declared missing? And you didn’t inform us about this?”

“Moze, I understand you’re frustrated with the situation, but it’s best to calm down—”

The man with long, dark hair shakes his head. “I agree with Moze, Dr. Ratio. The search for [Y/N] could’ve been cut short if we were informed of [Y/N]’s conditions and whereabouts three months ago.”

You press your lips into a thin line, unsure what to say, nor do you want to interfere with whatever is happening. From what you have gathered, you went missing for seven months and were in Amphoreus the entire time. You’re injured, but got lucky and didn’t die. Either you were truly lucky, or it’s a cruel fate because now you have to live to recover from these injuries, not only that, but you lost your memory.

A month later, you’re sitting in the hospital garden, still in Amphoreus. Of course, you’re not alone— these men refuse to let you be alone in another world. Within a month, you’re reintroduced to the eighteen (twenty-one if you count Anaxa, Phainon, and Mydei) men you once knew before your amnesia. They’re nothing but sweet and will spoil you with every chance they get.

Sometimes, when you’re in need of a girl friend to chat with, March and Himeko (who also had to reintroduce themselves to you) would spend time with you. They would tell you everything you have forgotten about, and what has happened within the seven months you have vanished off the face of the universe. You can’t help but feel loved after hearing how much people cared about you despite not being your family. Speaking of your family… what happened to them? You’re brought out of your thoughts when someone waves their hand in front of your face, trying to grab your attention after you have zoned out.

“I brought you lunch! I heard it’s a local specialty on Amphoreus,” Caelus says, plopping down in front of you and placing the plate on your lap.

You smile at Caelus. “Thank you for bringing me lunch, Caelus. I feel bad for having you guys run around to bring me things while I’m sitting,” you mutter, grabbing the silver cutlery.

Caelus smiles and kisses the side of your head without thinking, causing you to freeze momentarily before quickly regaining your composure. You peek from the corner of your eyes to see Caelus’s reaction, but he continues to dig into his food and eat like nothing happened.

“Are you sure you’re okay, [Y/N]? You haven’t been acting like yourself,” Dan Heng says, entering the garden with his lunch in his hands. “We’re all worried about you.”

You smile at Dan Heng and nod wordlessly. Caelus’s actions threw you off, but it’s not like you didn’t like it. It felt familiar for some reason, as if he had done this plenty of times before you went missing and lost your memory. What are you to these men?

You proceed to eat the lunch Caelus brought to you, lost in your thoughts. While eating and zoning out, someone reaches towards you and wipes the corner of your lips, pulling you out of your head. You lock eyes with Sampo, who grins at you as a result. Your face heats up, and you quickly look away, unsure of how to process what has happened. Sampo snickers at your reaction before plopping down beside you, sandwiching you between him and Caelus.

“What’s keeping that pretty head of yours occupied, gumdrop?” Sampo asks, nudging your side before scarfing down his lunch.

You shake your head. “It’s nothing. I’m just zoning out as per usual. You know how I am,” you joke. “I think. I don’t even know who I am or what I’m like before this freak accident.” You mutter, shoulders slumping after realization hits you.

The men trade looks, their hearts sinking into the pits of their stomachs. It’s been a month since they have reunited with you in Amphoreus since your sudden disappearance, only to find out that you sustained life-threatening injuries along with having amnesia. It’s a long road to recovery, but thanks to Amphoreus’s technology, Luocha and Jiaoqiu’s medical knowledge and skills, your healing journey was shortened.

Although most of your injuries have healed, your memories have yet to be restored. So, every man has decided to make it their mission to get you to fall in love with them again! While you and they aren’t exclusively dating—well, with Nanook, that’s a different story— they want to get you to fall in love with them again, little by little.

It started just fine at the beginning of the new month, but then they realized that it was taking way too long, and some people (Sampo, Caelus, Argenti, etc.) aren’t nearly as patient as the others (Mr Yang, Jing Yuan, Sunday, etc.). While that is happening, Nanook’s been feeding you small information about how you end up in another dimension. Though Nanook didn’t outright say that he brought you to his dimension because he took a liking to you, he didn’t want to scare you off and potentially break the bond you two have with each other, for who knows how long you’ve been in their dimension.

As for the men who occupy the world you and the others are currently in, they have been silently watching you from a distance. However, Phainon has been more than eager to befriend and get to know you more. He’s the sweetest and most welcoming person on Amphoreus. Despite not knowing each other much, he tries to make you feel comfortable and would banter with you at every chance he gets. Mydei, on the other hand, has been trying to keep it professional, but would sometimes let his demeanor slip and spend time with you after he forces the other men to leave your temporary room. Mydei has been telling you tales of his battles and exploration, and is incredibly proud of his achievements.

As for Anaxa… he’s a little bit aloof in your opinion, mainly because you don’t know him well enough. On days when you don’t have visitors (incredibly rare, but there are days when the men aren’t allowed to spend time with you for over two hours), Anaxa would pop by your room and teach you about Amphoreus, going on tangents about philosophy and other things your mind cannot comprehend at the moment (because he pops by at the ass crack of dawn while you’re still sleeping, peering over you and watching you sleep until you wake up because you can feel his eyes burning holes into your head).

“What the— Anaxa!? What are you doing here? The sun’s not even up yet!” You whisper loudly, rubbing your eyes with your knuckles.

Anaxa holds up a book thick enough to knock someone out with one hit. “Would you like to hear more reasons why I challenge the prophecy?” Anaxa asks, peeking from the top of the book.

You and Anaxa stare at each other in the darkness, not saying a word. Sometimes you forget that whenever Anaxa goes on one of his tangents, you tend to fall asleep, but Anaxa doesn’t mind one bit because he gets to talk to someone. Even if they’re knocked out asleep, then again, he will catch you up to speed on what you missed out on after falling asleep. It’s kind of cute. You let out a long sigh, turning on your side and hugging the extra pillow to your chest.

“What the hell, sure.” You shrug.

Anaxa’s eyes light up as he pulls up a seat beside your bed before starting.

Gepard kneels before you, grabbing your unoccupied hand. “How’s your head feeling?” He asks softly, massaging your knuckles while staring at you intently.

You smile at Gepard, squeezing his hand in return. “My head’s feeling okay, I guess. It’s extremely frustrating that I lost my memories and can’t do anything about it,” you reply, smiling at Gepard ruefully.

Boothill struts up to you and Gepard, sitting on the chair's armrest. “I think if we hit you on the back of your head just as hard as you hit your head eight months ago, maybe you can get your memories back!” Boothill smiles, crossing his arms over his chest, looking smug.

You stare at Boothill, mouth agape. Gallagher, Sunday, Mr. Yang, Blade, Mydei, Anaxa, Dan Heng, Luocha, and Jiaoqiu all sigh simultaneously, shaking their heads in disapproval. You rub the back of your head, unsure how to respond to Boothill’s suggestion.

Luocha rubs the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. “Boothill, that’s not how it works. Giving [Y/N] another head injury will not recover all of their memories,” Luocha mutters, giving the Galaxy Ranger the side eye.

Before you can say something, someone places their hands on your shoulders, startling you. You look up to see Nanook standing behind you, glaring at Boothill. Ah, he probably heard Boothill’s suggestion. Nanook grabs you by the waist and throws you over his shoulders. The men around you grumble with protests, crossing their arms over their chest while glaring at the Aeon of Destruction.

“Wait, Nanook, I’m still eating.” You protest, peeking from Nanook’s shoulders. “Put me down, I want to finish my lunch.” You pat the Aeon’s shoulders, trying to get the man to put you down.

Nanook wordlessly hands you a cup of Immortal’s Delight. You stop what you’re doing and stare at the sweet drink in his hands before grabbing it. You take a sip and hum happily, the sweetness flooding your taste buds.

Luka looks away, his face almost as red as Argenti’s hair. “Hey, I don’t know if you’re aware of the length of the hospital gown, but…” he trails off, the redness of his face traveling up to the tip of his ears.

Your eyes widen and your hand shoots up to cover your exposed ass. It’s not like you’re completely naked underneath the hospital gown, but you didn’t want anyone to see your underwear! You unintentionally flashed everyone in the garden, good heavens. Nanook immediately places both hands on your butt, covering your underwear from everyone’s sight while glaring at every person.

Gallagher huffs out a laugh, leans back in his seat, and crosses his arms over his chest. “Why are you looking at us like it’s our fault that we see [Y/N]’s underwear? You’re the one who lifted and tossed them over your shoulders,” Gallagher shakes his head.

Nanook rolls his eyes and turns around, walking towards the building with you draping over his shoulders, slurping down the Immortal’s Delight without a care in the world. Once you and Nanook are out of earshot, Argenti stands up and starts trailing after the two of you.

Aventurine raises his eyebrows. “Uh, where are you going, Argenti?” Aventurine calls out to the redhead.

Argenti turns around, crossing his arms over his chest. “Following after [Y/N] and Nanook, what does it look like? I refuse to let them have some alone time while we sit to the side,” Argenti replies.

Argenti turns around before continuing to follow after you and the Aeon, making sure not to get too close or else he’ll face Nanook’s wrath for trying to cockblock. After hearing Argenti’s response, the others immediately leave their spots (with their food and drinks) and follow Argenti.

Another month goes by, and there’s finally some progress with your memories gradually recovering. As days go by, bits and pieces of your memories will hit you randomly throughout the day. Sometimes these memories from however long ago would hit you while you’re sleeping, making you assume it was just a dream, when, in fact, it was not a dream at all.

“I had a dream where I got lost in Penacony and had to be saved by Gallagher,” you passively mentioned at breakfast one day.

Mr. Yang clears his throat. “That wasn’t a dream, sweetheart. It happened nine months ago,” Mr. Yang replies, no longer eating his breakfast.

You stare at the older man, mouth agape. Wait, huh?! The people sitting around you all nod in response to your questioning look.

You shake your head and wave your hand in front of you, still trying to process the information that your dream was actually reality, but it happened before your disappearance. “Wait, so that wasn’t a weird nightmare?” You squeak, staring at Mr. Yang and the others in disbelief.

Himeko and March give you a sympathetic look, both patting and rubbing your shoulder with comfort. You lean back in your seat, letting the information sink in. March reaches for your Immortal’s Delight, handing it to you, hoping it’ll snap you out of your inner turmoil. You wordlessly take the sweet drink from March’s hand, taking a sip of the drink while you continue to stare at the table in front of you. The longer you stare at the table and mindlessly sip the Immortal’s Delight, you can’t help but find yourself trying really hard to recall things that happened before you magically appeared at Amphoreus.

“What about the time I died? Is that real, too?” You mutter, looking up at the men through your lashes.

Everyone in the room was tense at your question. Out of all the things you could’ve brought up, you chose one thing no one wants to remember. Jing Yuan clears his throat, placing his cutlery down on the plate.

Jing Yuan crosses his arms over his chest. “That is something we do not bring up or talk about for very good reasons, [Y/N],” Jing Yuan states.

The mere tone and body language of the General of the Xianzhou Luofu sends chills down your spine. It’s not that you’re afraid or nervous, it’s something you’re not used to. From what you can recall, Jing Yuan has always been sweet to you and would spoil you with every chance he gets. However, this sudden shift in tone and body language when you brought up the topic of your death was something you didn’t expect.

You hesitantly nod. “Okay, I won’t bring it up,” you mutter against the straw.

Later that day, you’re in Eternal Holy City Okhema, hanging out with the others. While the others are engrossed in their surroundings, you sit to the side, trying not to be engulfed by your inner turmoil. Blade sits beside you, occasionally glancing at you. You close your eyes, sighing.

“What’s on your mind?” Blade mutters.

You hug your legs to your chest and rest your chin on your knees. “A lot of things are occupying my thoughts, Blade. It’s been nothing but bothersome,” you whisper, pressing your lips into a thin line.

“What could be occupying your head? It’s better to let things come to you naturally, no?” Dr. Ratio mutters, now sitting beside you while ignoring the glare Blade shoots in his direction.

So much for having some alone time with you.

You puff your cheeks out in frustration and run your hands through your hair, tempted to tug at the roots. That is what you’re doing, letting all of your memories come back to you in bits and pieces without trying to force them to return to you. Dr. Ratio grabs your hand, gently pulling it away from your head, and places your hand onto his lap. Blade narrows his eyes at Dr. Ratio, as if he’s mentally plotting the man’s demise.

“You guys already know how I am. Why can’t you guys tell me a few memories you have of me to help speed up the process?” You grumble, watching Dr. Ratio play with your hand.

“If we did tell you a memory we have of you, would that really help you regain your memory?” Sunday interjects, now standing before you with his hands propped on his hips. “I understand that it’s frustrating to walk around with little to no memory of who you and those around you are, but you cannot force yourself to regain your memories.”

You huff in response, crossing your arms over your chest. “You’re regurgitating information I already know, Sunday. At least, once we return to the Astral Express, I won’t have to deal with your calculating stares. You kind of intimidate me, Sunday.”

Sunday stares at you, unsure whether he should be offended by your comment or feel relieved that you remember that you find him intimidating. Wait, does he have a calculating stare? Sunday turns to Blade and Dr. Ratio for confirmation, only to see both of them nodding already without having to ask verbally.

You quickly interrupt before Sunday can ask, “Don’t take it personally, Sunday. I usually find pretty people intimidating, and you happen to be one of them.” You shrug, rubbing your now throbbing temples, “You and those pretty angel wings behind your ears.”

Sunday stares at you with amusement, the corner of his lips curving up. The halovian looks away, his cheeks turning bright red at your compliment. Oh, Aeons, if only you two were alone, then he could finally snatch you up for himself and claim you as his and his only. The mere thought of sharing you with other people, such as the Aeon of Destruction—a being that has nothing but lust for blood and destruction— disgusts Sunday. Is it too late to snatch you away for himself? This time, he will take you to the edge of the cosmos so no one can find both of you. It’ll just be you and him in another universe with no one else to interfere. He will make sure that no one can find both of you this time.

“Hello, hello. What are we talking about over here?” Jiaoqiu asks, approaching your group with Moze by his side.

Moze crosses his arms over his chest, staring you down. “You’re not up to something, are you?” The gray-haired man asks, raising his eyebrows at you.

“What?! No! And even if I am, how would I pull it off with amnesia?” You grouse, glaring at the Shadow Guard.

Your glare doesn’t faze Moze as he and Jiaoqiu sit across from you, Dr. Ratio, and Blade. On the other hand, Sunday continues standing, deep in his thoughts, while staring at you. Dr. Ratio, Blade, Jiaoqiu, and Moze raise their eyebrows at Sunday before looking at each other, checking to see if the others around them notice Sunday’s strange behavior.

“Hey, you six! How’s it going over here? Are you guys enjoying Amphoreus after being here for two months?” Phainon asks, approaching your group with a cute smile.

The five men don’t respond to Phainon at first, all staring at him with varying expressions. When Phainon’s cute smile morphs to an awkward one after not receiving an answer, Jiaoqiu politely answers for the group. Phainon turns to you, looking at you from head to toe, craning his head to look at every detail of you. It’s not new to you to have Phainon examine you, but for the others, it looks like he was shamelessly checking you out. Perhaps he’s doing both, who knows!

Mydei struts up to you, his arms crossed over his chest. “It’s time to return.” The Crown Prince states, not leaving room for protests.

“Huh? Already? But then I’m going to be holed up in my room doing nothing until tomorrow,” you mutter, staring at the Crown Prince in disbelief.

Anaxa stands beside the Crown Prince, holding up the same thick book he was rambling about a few days ago. “If you’d like, I can go over some things you missed out on after you fell asleep,” Anaxa suggests, flashing you that charming smile of his.

You stare at Anaxa and Mydei for a moment, conflicted. You could ask someone to get your phone for you, so you can keep yourself occupied while you’re on bed rest, but since you don’t remember your password and didn’t activate face recognition, that’s out of the options. After thinking for a few minutes, you shrug, looking at Anaxa.

“What the hell, sure,” you said, allowing Anaxa to drag you.

Even though you’ve been gaining your memories little by little, Mydei has advised you not to leave Amphoreus until you recover all of your memories. It sounds impossible because those who suffer amnesia can either regain their memories after a week, or it’ll take months. Heck, in some cases, there are people who never fully recover their memories after having amnesia. That’s one of your biggest concerns, but you’ve been quite fortunate not to have to be the third option.

Despite being almost a hundred percent recovered, you wake up in your temporary room to a room full of red roses—not just any red roses, but the same red roses that are named after a certain Knight of Beauty. You rub your eyes, trying to process what you see. How in the world did Argenti manage to sneak over dozens of red roses into your room while you’re asleep?

Argenti stands at the edge of your bed, smiling at you. “Good morning, my beautiful red rose. What do you think? Only someone as beautiful as you deserves to wake up to being surrounded by roses.” He asks, gesturing to the wall of flowers surrounding you two.

Before you can respond to Argenti’s question, Sampo’s loud sneeze interrupts you. Everyone in the room flinches. You stare at Sampo, seeing him sniffle and rub his nose. Sampo gives you a sympathetic look, rubbing the back of his head.

“Are you okay, Sampo?” You ask, scooting close to the edge of the bed.

Sampo waves off your concern. “Oh, don’t worry about me, gumdrop! I’m just having slight allergies right now. Nothing to worry about! I can pop an allergy medication, and I should be fine,” Sampo says, giving you a thumbs up before sneezing into the crook of his arm.

Sampo turns to look at Luocha with an expectant stare, only for the blond man to pinch the bridge of his nose and sigh. Luocha digs into his pocket and pulls out a medicine bottle, handing it to Sampo without question. You raise your eyebrows at Sampo and Luocha. It seems like Luocha’s prepared for this specific moment.

Luocha shakes his head. “Don’t question it. I have to be prepared somehow, unless you want him to sneeze over twenty times in one day,” Luocha mutters, crossing his arms over his chest.

The longer you stare at the roses around you, the more you can’t help but yearn for the outdoors. You hug your legs to your chest, resting your chin on your knees with a soft exhale. The men around you stare at you worriedly, wondering if you’re not satisfied with the number of roses in your room. If you want more, they can certainly get you more! All you have to do is say the magic word, and they shall make your dreams come true.

Mr. Yang props his hands on his hips. “Is there something wrong?” He asks, examining you closely.

You smile and shake your head. “Not really, Mr. Yang. But I do want to know one thing…” You trail off, pressing your lips into a thin line.

Would they even allow it if you asked them? They wouldn’t be against it, would they?

“And that is…?” Dan Heng asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

Oh, fuck it. It’s not like they’ll be keeping you imprisoned on Amphoreus.

“When can I return to the Astral Express? How come you guys are allowed to return to the Astral Express, but I have to stay here?” You ask, leaning against the headboard of the bed.

After regaining consciousness, everyone would stop by Amphoreus and keep you company, but when it’s bedtime for you, they board the Astral Express for the night. Heck, some of them would return to Penacony, the Xianzhou Luofu, Jarilo-VI, and the Herta Space Station to tend to their duties.

Then there’s you: stuck on Amphoreus in your hospital room with nothing to do but watch the skies change color. Sometimes you’re allowed to walk around the hospital, but only if you’re given permission. Luocha would assist the doctors with your treatment, making sure you’re healing properly, and he would keep you company during your checkups (which are every other day). As for Jiaoqiu, he makes sure you take your medications—yes, by making you eat spicy food. It works, if you have to be honest. But it does make you use the toilet more than you would like, but hey, if it works, it works.

Moze raises an eyebrow at your question. “What? Are you not enjoying your time on Amphoreus?” Moze mutters, looking at Mydei, Phainon, and Anaxa from the corner of his eye.

You rub your temples, shaking your head. “What’s there to enjoy when I’m constantly cooped up in this room?”

“Uh, that’s not true! Remember, you were chilling in the hospital garden for lunch and we were at Eternal Holy City Okhema not long ago!” Boothill interjects, only to falter. “Now that I think about it, you seem more like a prisoner than a visitor on Amphoreus.”

You scoot to the edge of the bed and stand up, stretching your legs. “I understand that my stay in this hospital is to monitor my healing progress, but I should be allowed to stop by the Astral Express once a week to say hi to Pom-Pom. I miss the little guy.”

Gallagher shrugs, nodding his head. “I mean, they have a point. Luocha and Jiaoqiu have been helping with the healing process; they should’ve been able to stop by the Astral Express after being mostly healed from their injuries.”

Despite being cooped up in your hospital room most of the time, Nanook did find ways to keep you entertained. Whenever you fall asleep, Nanook visits you in your dreams. He would create a world for you, a world you have never seen before (it could be Amphoreus; you have never explored Amphoreus before, so how would you know?). The skies are pink and blue; it’s warm but not uncomfortably warm. Every time you fall asleep, you and Nanook meet in that very same world, spending time together until you wake up.

You snap out of your thoughts when Dr. Ratio taps your forehead, trying to grab your attention. You grab Dr. Ratio’s finger, staring at him blankly.

“Daydreaming while we try to explain to you about your conditions? How disrespectful,” Dr. Ratio mutters, reaching to pinch your nose.

You smack his hand away and try to mimic him, only for him to grab your wrist and pull you into his arms. You’re tempted to protest, but getting a hug from Dr. Ratio is quite rare in your case. You don’t know the man long enough to breathe the same air.

Sunday glares at Dr. Ratio from afar. “Oi, would it kill you to be careful with them!?” Sunday hisses.

Dr. Ratio raises his eyebrows at Sunday, smirking with amusement. Dr. Ratio pats your head without taking his eyes off of Sunday. If anyone stares at Sunday long enough, maybe they’ll see steam coming from his ears.

Caelus clears his throat. “You can return to the Astral Express. You’ve been cleared by your doctor this morning before we started setting up the red roses in your room,” Caelus says, shrugging his shoulders. “If we do that, I would like to volunteer to show you my bedroom renovations!” Caelus props his hands on his hips with a proud smirk.

You stare at Caelus, mouth agape. Were you gone for that long?! Caelus walks over to you, scrolling on his phone to find pictures of his newly renovated bedroom on the Astral Express. The gray-haired man hands you his phone, letting you swipe through the photos. Caelus has a bar, bathroom, gaming area, and living space in his room.

You look at Caelus, handing his phone back. “Are you looking for a roommate by chance?”

Caelus snickers. “As long as the Aeon of Destruction doesn’t bunk with us, yes, I am looking for a roommate.”

“Not going to happen.” The men simultaneously say, glaring at Caelus.

March glares at Caelus. “We have our own rooms on the Astral Express for a reason, Caelus! Besides, [Y/N]’s room is cute and comfortable! Your room is doing too much on the Express,” March huffs, crossing her arms over her chest.

You shrug. “I think it’s an introvert’s dream. It’s kind of like a studio apartment, but on a train.”

March suddenly gasps, marching over to where you stand and cups your face in her hands, eyes wide with wonder. “Wait, does this mean you have your memories back!?” She shrieks, shaking you back and forth.

You squeeze your eyes shut and place your hands over hers, gently squeezing them. “I mean, they’ve been coming back little by little, if that’s what you’re implying.”

Luka furrows his eyebrows at you, walking towards you and March. “Wait, does that mean you remember what happened before you vanished for months?”

You shake your head. “Not really? I don’t remember that much. I remember most things that happened before I magically appeared on Amphoreus.”

People around you groan at another (temporary) dead end on the mystery of your disappearance. After getting you checked out of the hospital, everyone returns to the Astral Express, carrying the roses back to the train. As for Sampo, he’s giving you piggyback rides to the Astral Express so he wouldn’t have to carry his allergies onto the train. While your group is ahead, Phainon, Mydei, and Anaxa fall behind.

“Are we really not going to tell them?” Phainon mutters. “They’re going to hate us for this if they ever find out themselves.”

Mydei shakes his head, clutching the roses to his chest. “There’s no point in telling them. I’m sure [Y/N] will inform them when they remember. That is, if the trauma didn’t block out the memory,” Mydei mutters.

Anaxa shakes his head. “I’m sure they’ll be fine if they find out themselves. Besides, if I recall correctly, this isn’t the first time [Y/N] died in this dimension.”

What they don’t know won’t hurt them, right?

Note: Again, I sincerely apologize for not updating the HSR series in so long ;v; I'm still behind on the game. I have yet completed the Xianzhou quest with the Wardance and March being on the path of Hunt. While I work on the Love&Deepspace fanfic (it won't be too long since it's about 95% completed in the drafts), I'm going to try to catch up on HSR. It's going to take some time, though. I was informed that the Amphoreus quest from the start to the current quest is about 28 hours. If you're interested in joining my Discord server, the invite to my Discord server can be found [HERE]! The Discord server invite links will be different every time I post a new fanfic, and these links have expiration dates. Anyway, to all my new and returning readers, keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr), Ko-Fi (Genshinluvr/Aaliah_exo), and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist: No taglist for this update:) will be making a new one in the future

Read more of my works on my Grand Masterlist, which contains every masterlist I have created! | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories there, too, but who knows? You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^

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dredgesnails · 7 months ago

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i know grian said he didn't know who got what powers (other than his own), but either he was lying about that or whoever did assign them knew exactly what they were doing because they feel like they've been made FOR them.

some of them are really obvious, like bdubs controlling time (both through speed and by sleeping), cleo getting to raise the dead (and grian getting to see skizz and mumbo again as a result), pearl getting to fly (arent her goggles and wings so moth-like? they are to me) and lizzie being a literal Shadow Lady. joel, bigb and scar all got powers that connect to their characters this season, like joel's affinity to parkour and bigb's whole creaking deal and scar really wanting to punch people far (and he's making a rollercoaster. what do you do with rollercoasters? you ride them...). etho "did that make you jump" slab gets to (literally) jumpscare everyone on the server and of course theatre kid rendog gets to pretend to be other people (he's also one of the few people who subbed in for another player during a prior season).

martyn's fits his lore as listener so well, grian's got the most watcher-like abilities of them all, and gem getting being able to see traps and communicate with the dead (one of whom is only there because he tried too hard to kill her) is brilliant with how she plays the game like she's got more control than anyone else (hello watcher/listener...?). finding connections with scott and impulse's powers might be more of a reach but to me they fit well because scott generally comes across as harmless and peaceful but he's also almost literally become a sacrificial lamb, and impulse switching places with other people makes me think of third life and his double crossing playing both sides schemes.

tango's might be my favourite because the frostwalker ability is so decked out deepfrost citadel to me, and he also gets to flee with extra flee (my personal favourite catchphrase of his). also (not to overanalyse) jimmy's power fits so well into his overall narrative as a canary who's broken his curse: he's never made it to a final episode, he's been grian's guardian angel (always watching, never seen) and with the canary gone from the mines there's nothing to warn the others so they're dead before they realise they're in danger.

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darkmatilda · 5 months ago

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𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐤𝐞 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: two years ago, completely by accident, you helped catch a serial killer. now, as mysterious events start to pile up around you, you begin to suspect that someone is after you, seeking revenge. terrified, you're willing to do anything to save yourself—even if it means reaching out to your ex, who wants nothing more to do with you.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐰: [these warnings only apply to part 2!] spencer reid x criminal(thief)female!reader, stalking, mention of dismembered bodies, serial killer targeting women, mention of abduction, reader kinda joking about killing an old man (i have no idea how to phrase it differently)

𝐚/𝐧: hi, my loves!! thank you for the feedback on the previous part, and as always, thank you to my dear friends from the server 👀 today especially @nachrosas who appears as one of the characters

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 7.3k

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐖𝐎

You were a bit embarrassed to admit it to yourself, but you didn’t leave your hiding spot until Spencer arrived.

It took him about forty minutes, though it felt like no time at all. In the dark, small closet, time moved differently. The human heart beats 60 to 80 times per minute—yours, however, was more than double that, which probably affected your sense of time.

You recognized his footsteps as he approached, and soon the door opened. For a brief moment, you two stared at each other in silence. He was wearing dark clothes again, with a burgundy shirt peeking out from under his jacket. His eyes no longer held the animosity they did the last time you saw each other. It seemed like everything that was happening had him so preoccupied that he'd forgotten, even if just for a moment, that he wasn’t supposed to like you.

"Hey," you managed to say, your brain only able to form this one word.

Spencer blinked at the casual greeting.

"Are you okay?" he asked, still holding the closet door open. He looked at you more closely, noting your slightly bent knees and expressionless face. Only then did he move with some hesitation, unsure of how to act, before offering his hand to you.

You reached for it, only catching the tips of his fingers. Still, you could feel the strong, steady grip. He helped you out of the closet as if you were a princess needing support to exit a carriage.

He released you immediately when your feet touched the floor, pressing his hand firmly to his body.

“What’s going on? Is… is this your apartment?” he asked, glancing around the room with confusion. “What were you doing in…”

“This is Rebekah’s apartment,” you cut him off, taking two steps forward to shake out your still shaky legs, and at the same time, to distance yourself from him. The bedroom was too small for a full walk, so you circled around, stopping at the edge of the bed. Your head was still spinning from the fear, but you forced yourself to straighten your back. You didn’t want him to think you were just paranoid again. You needed to appear confident about what you’d seen and what you’d been through.

“Rebekah…” he repeated the name aloud, thinking. You hadn’t expected him to immediately recognize who she was, but he added, “The woman you saved that time.”

“Right. Your memory,” you muttered, taking a deep breath. Your gaze landed on the empty bed, and the words Robert Miller escaped from prison echoed in your head. You quickly turned to Spencer, urgency in your eyes. “He was here. I came to check on Rebekah; I hadn’t heard from her for a few days. No one answered, so I came inside…and then he followed me…”

You stopped mid-sentence when you saw his expression. You had expected fear—not...disbelief.

“You called me, saying he escaped!” you shouted, crossing your arms angrily. “Do you have a reason to think I’m lying, or are you just doing this for the sake of it…”

“I’m not saying you’re lying,” he interrupted firmly, mirroring your tense posture. “I know you’re shaken up, and I know it really happened. The thing is, it couldn’t have been Robert Miller. The escape news reached us immediately. He wouldn’t have had time to get here, and how would he even know where she lives?”

First, you opened your mouth, about to say something, but then quickly pressed your lips together. Who else could it have been? At first, you thought it was just your perception, but then the memory of the scent that filled your nostrils as the man entered the room came back to you. You couldn’t shake the thought that it was him. Of course, you weren’t about to say that to Spencer—he already thought you were paranoid.

Maybe it was one of her friends? But then, damn it, why would he visit her when she wasn’t here? You lowered your head, trying to clear your thoughts and focus. You needed to figure out what had happened to Rebekah, first and foremost.

With that in mind, you bypassed Spencer and made your way to the kitchen.

“There’s something else you need to know…” he started, trailing behind you as if you were keeping him on a leash. You didn’t even turn at his words, heading straight for the fridge, bending down to peer inside. “Wait, are you seriously going to eat now?”

You pulled a bottle of milk out of the fridge, but before checking the expiration date, you shot him a look full of disdain. He crossed his arms defensively.

“Yeah, I’m starving. You want something?” you muttered, going back to what you were doing. “I’m trying to figure out when she was last here based on expired food. Instead of standing there like a statue, how about you help me out, Mr. FBI?”

He clearly had no response, so he cleared his throat and ventured further into the kitchen, carefully scanning it for any clues.

“I didn’t know we switched roles,” he added after a moment.

You shrugged.

“I’ve always thought detective work isn’t that hard. Just have to be observant”

Spencer snorted.

“Well, in that case, maybe you’ll take a look at a certain case for me. The guy was called Zodiac. Ring any bells?”

You could have easily come up with at least five sarcastic replies, but there was something more pressing on your mind than winning this verbal battle.

"Some of the stuff in this fridge is already expired, or about to be," you remarked, taking one last glance at the shelves. "If she’s missing, it was recently. Maybe...maybe today. And the person who did this came back to erase potential evidence. When I got here, the light was on. They must’ve turned it off. What do you think?"

He stood still, facing away from you, his back to the kitchen counter. He didn’t answer. You took a small step to the side, and that’s when you saw what he was holding.

"I don’t think they were here to erase evidence," he replied in an unreadable tone, a trace of tension in his voice. Only then did he turn toward you, holding up a piece of paper. "I think whoever it was, came here after you. They were following you. They wanted you to find this."

The piece of paper had a simple message written in bold black marker.

POLICE = SHE DIES.

For a moment, you stared at the words, frozen. You took the paper from him, light as a feather, yet somehow it felt as heavy as an adult elephant in your hands. Your arm dropped limply to your side.

"Now do you believe me that all of this is connected?" you asked, a hint of dark triumph in your voice. Spencer kept his jaw clenched. "The last murder? The faucet in my kitchen? Miller's escape, and now this?" you trailed off, struggling to swallow. "He's after me."

He stared at you silently, bracing himself with one hand on the edge of the counter. You tilted your head, unsure of what to make of the prolonged look he was giving you.

"You were right from the beginning," he said finally, the words clearly coming with difficulty. Before you could scoff at the obviousness of the statement, he added, "After you came to me, I took another look at the last murder. It turns out... we missed something important."

Normally, you would have thrown in some sarcastic comment about the FBI's incompetence or asked where your taxes were going. But you were too focused on his words, too eager to hear what he was about to reveal.

"One of the victims had, still attached, a piece of the rope they were tied with," he continued. "Paracord. A type of line used in sailing. All the other thirteen victims of Miller were tied with it. We never released that information to the public. We kept it under wraps in case someone tried to take credit for it. So...it couldn't have been a copycat."

This time, you were the one at a loss for words—or rather, the ability to string them together properly. You exhaled heavily, crushing the paper in your hand. The full weight of Rebekah’s situation had just hit you. She was being forced to endure all of this again. The note suggested she might still be alive. But even if you managed to save her—again—would she be able to piece herself back together after this trauma, again?

Despite the grim thought, one thing was clear: you had to do everything in your power to help her.

“You’re not telling anyone about this,” you snapped sharply, pointing at Spencer with the hand still clutching the crumpled note.

“I’m not telling anyone,” he agreed with a slight nod. “Except my team.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off.

“Listen, every serial killer demands not to involve the police. And do you know what you’re supposed to do in that situation? Involve the police. We’ll handle this—”

“And I’m handling it with you,” you finished firmly.

This time, he looked like he wanted to argue.

“It’s inevitable,” you added before he could say a word. “He’s targeting me, so I’m involved no matter what. Instead of wasting time trying to convince me otherwise, let’s get to work. What do you think about all this? Miller had a partner the entire time, didn’t he?”

Despite your mixed feelings toward him, you couldn’t deny his knowledge and experience—things essential for tackling this case, things you personally didn’t have. Not that you hid the fact that your understanding of crimes went beyond that of the average person. Spencer placed his hands on his hips, shaking his head slightly.

“Seems that way,” he replied, adopting that deeply calculating expression, the one where most emotions vanished from his face.

You tried to reconcile that look with a softer one—like the way he’d looked when the two of you used to lie in bed in the morning, talking excitedly about something. But you couldn’t. That memory had already faded, blurred, replaced by an indistinct haze. You weren’t sure if you felt any regret about it. Maybe you shouldn’t think about it at all.

“At the time, we were certain these were crimes committed by just one unsub,” he continued, his voice steady. “And I’d still hold to that theory if it weren’t for…all of this.”

Something uncertain sparked in your mind.

“What if he didn’t commit those murders? Sure, Rebekah was found in his house, but…”

“He confessed,” Spencer interrupted, his tone leaving little room for debate.

“Yes, but—”

“The polygraph confirmed his statement too,” he cut in again. Then, after a brief pause, he admitted, “Okay, I know that’s not exactly reliable evidence. But after all the time I spent interrogating him…studying his body language, his facial expressions, comparing it to the profile… he is The Waterside Butcher. Or at least…” his voice dropped slightly, “he believes he is.”

You listened to him only partially, your gaze wandering painfully around Rebekah’s empty apartment as you tried not to imagine what she might be going through or feeling right now. And, above all, you tried not to let yourself worry about your own safety.

“So, an accomplice,” you murmured, almost to yourself. “Someone we know nothing about. But if they teamed up for something like this, they must’ve meant a lot to each other, don’t you think? I mean, they must’ve known each other back then.”

Spencer gave a small nod—so small it barely felt like agreement.

“It’s possible. And since we don’t have anything else to go on, we should start there. Go back through Miller’s life. I should be able to access all the case files related to him without any trouble. And update my team about all of this”

The silence between you stretched, tight and uncomfortable. It took you a moment to realize his words meant you should leave and get to work. Still, you felt glued to the floor of the apartment, as though moving would make everything more real. Finally, you sighed and straightened up, forcing a sense of readiness.

“You’ve got my number,” you said, heading toward the door. “Call me when you’ve got the files.” As you flicked the light switch on your way out, the apartment sank back into darkness.

Spencer hesitated on the stairwell, pausing in front of a graffiti drawing on the wall— spray-painted dick. He was blissfully unaware of the masterpiece behind him.

“Be careful,” he said, his tone serious. You couldn’t quite tell if there was genuine concern behind his words.

Maybe a little.

You reached under your jacket, pulling your coat back slightly to reveal the handle of your gun. You kept your movements measured, your face calm—or at least, as calm as you could make it seem. “I’m good,” you replied.

“Still, just…be careful,” he repeated, his brow furrowing slightly. “Actually, you could just leave this to us—”

“So you can miss something important again?” you teased, your voice edged with sarcasm. You’d always been the kind of person who trusted your own instincts over anyone else’s, and right now, you didn’t feel like handing over control. “See you later. And hurry up. No naps on the way.”

Spencer opened his mouth, ready to snap something back, but you were already heading toward the stairs before he could get the words out.

Returning to the apartment was risky, but you had to do it.

Slowly opening the door, accompanied by the shrill barking of your neighbor's poodle, who gave his last, final concert every evening before collapsing on the couch, a strange calm filled you. And it probably wasn’t just because you were holding a gun. It didn’t seem illogical that Miller would show up here right after escaping from prison. If he managed to do that, if he and his accomplice were able to kidnap Rebekah, they must have been following some larger plan.

Soon, you would find out what it was.

Erika's dog kept barking as you double-checked the entire apartment. You were never the type to relax as soon as you entered your place, tossing yourself carelessly onto the couch. You always crossed its threshold warily, especially when you were involved in some major heist or making deals with someone from the darker side of the dark side of everything.

In any case, it was clean.

You shoved the gun behind your belt, hung your jacket on the hook, from which it immediately slid off, but you weren’t planning to worry about it. Instead, you made your way to your bedroom, to the cash album, to take most of it. You didn’t know how long Miller’s search would last or how the situation would unfold—perhaps escape would become necessary...but that would definitely not happen before you found Rebekah. Safe and sound.

You tried not to look at all the photos, from which your faces had been cut out. With a grimace on your lips, you skipped over those pages, jumping to the last one, the one with the money... when a photo fell out of the album, one that didn’t belong to you. At least, you thought it didn’t.

Because yes, there were a few photographs of family members, even ones you hadn’t been in touch with for a long time, who had passed away when you were a child. But this woman… you felt like you had never seen her before. She seemed young, the black-and-white photo with slightly bent corners, her hairstyle and makeup, indicated it must have been taken in another decade.

Slowly, you took it in your hands, analyzing her facial features with a furrowed brow. You might have thought it was just a photo that had been slipped in there, if it weren’t for the fact...that there was something familiar about her.

You stared at that face for a long time before you forced yourself to shut the album. Some time had passed, you had gone to visit Rebekah late in the evening, so it didn’t take long for you to realize it was the middle of the night. With no news from Spencer, you didn’t really know what to do, and it left you with a solid sense of helplessness. Closing your eyes wasn’t an option, so you leaned your hips against the damn expensive shabby chic island with a marble countertop, trying to make yourself some coffee. Many of the furniture pieces in your apartment were old, which made them stand out against the modern kitchen appliances. You hadn’t quite figured out how to work the espresso machine yet, and you were too lazy to, so you always preferred to grab coffee from somewhere in town. You spent an enormous amount of time searching through the cabinets for the user manual (spoiler: you’ll later realize you threw it away and hit your forehead against the counter in frustration) while wondering whether Spencer would ever contact you again.

Maybe he only promised to get back to you to push you away from the investigation, planning to handle it entirely with the help of his team. Maybe he considered you unnecessary in all of this and didn’t think you could help in any way.

Wow, were you really antagonizing your ex in your mind again as a way to kill time?

You missed the moment when Erika’s dog finished its performance.

In any case, you were wrong. Spencer had sent you a message early in the morning, skipping the commas he always diligently used, which suggested he had listened to your advice and hadn’t taken a nap on the way. Once again, with your jacket on your back, you jumped into the front seat of his car.

"I thought this would take you less time," you said with dissatisfaction, looking at his hands on the steering wheel and feeling the familiar scent of his presence. It had been a long time since you last shared such a small space. "You always said the first 24 hours after a disappearance are the most important. We’ve already wasted about a third of that..."

“That’s not a typical missing person case,” he cut in between your words, sounding like a lecturer, allowing himself a brief yawn in the process. There was always that little purple ring around his dark eyes that disappeared during vacations or work breaks, when you’d spend time together in the laziest possible ways. "It’s a kidnapping, and the unsub has given us a condition. If, of course, his words hold any value, Rebekah will stay alive as long as you don’t notify the police."

"Which I already did," you muttered.

"My team is quietly searching for her. For now, we need to focus on what we decided earlier. We need to go through Miller’s life again and maybe find a clue about his accomplice. Here are the case files..." Spencer suddenly stopped, holding a thick folder in his hand, slightly extended toward you but still in his grip.

You reached for it, but he pulled it away.

“Jeez, found a moment to play the kid, huh…”

“I just realized you’re not authorized to look at these,” he replied.

“Why not?” you asked, throwing your hands up, accidentally brushing against his shoulder. "Ugh, right, I know. Protecting the privacy of the man who killed thirteen women. Sorry, officer, for wanting to breach his confidentiality and treat him with a lack of respect..."

He handed you the folder without a word. You sent him a triumphant smile.

“I had the point, right? You could admit it out loud."

“That would be dangerous for your ego.”

“You assume that one compliment from you could seriously affect it? Bold.”

Spencer glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, not fully taking his gaze off the road ahead.

"Did you want me to admit you were right or give you a compliment?"

You opened the folder to the first page, immediately confronted with Robert Miller’s face. You barely managed to hide the small twitch in your shoulders. Spencer scrutinized you once more, and you tried to mask your reaction.

“So,” you began, clearing your throat. “We’re heading to his father’s house, the one still alive. Kinda rich guy, huh?”

“I’ll have to keep an eye on your sticky fingers,” he muttered under his breath, barely audible.

“What did you just say?”

He put on the expression of a gentle lamb, almost angelic.

“That we’ll have to talk to him,” he replied with a slight shrug. “As much as his health allows. He was showing signs of dementia two years ago.”

“A rich guy, not fully in control of his mind?” you threw in with a small smirk, deliberately trying to get under his skin. You had heard his first comment. “I’m drooling.”

“Jesus Christ,” he sighed, rolling his eyes.

Silently, you studied the unsub's profile included in the file, refreshing information you already knew. That he and his father shared a passion for water in general, engaging in water sports and setting out onto the lake as often as possible. During one of their boat trips, he had pushed his mother overboard—she hadn’t been wearing a life jacket. Due to his young age, apparent remorse, and his father’s unwavering belief in his innocence, the incident had been ruled an accident.

In reality, it was the beginning of his murderous spree, directed exclusively at women. The first victim—the one who had given him life.

You arrived at a rather large estate, standing out slightly against the otherwise modest neighborhood. A typical American suburb, with an intensely green lawn that looked almost painted on. White walls, a dark roof, and untrimmed bushes hinting at a long-standing lack of effort in maintaining an illusion of perfection.

Spencer rang the doorbell and quickly shoved his hands into the pockets of his black coat. You stood side by side, the wait dragging on. You couldn’t help yourself—you nudged him with your elbow. He glanced at you, slightly surprised.

"When he opens the door, you're gonna do that power move with the badge, aren’t you?" you asked, your tone playful as you tilted your head to look at him.

Spencer chose to ignore the comment, pressing the doorbell again.

"Don’t be shy, I always thought that was kind of attractive," you added, watching in amusement as his expression stiffened ever so slightly.

He leaned in just a bit before speaking.

"And when he doesn’t open the door, you’re gonna pull your little hair pin trick, aren’t you?" he shot back, mimicking your tone—but with the clear intent to get under your skin rather than simply engage.

You snorted.

"You think I’m an amateur? I have actual tools for that..."

Both of you fell silent as the faint sound of movement came from inside. Someone was there, lingering behind the door, watching the two of you from the other side. After a moment of hesitation, the door finally opened to reveal a very young looking girl. A few curls had escaped from the loose ponytail at the nape of her neck, and her delicate face showed little enthusiasm at the sight of you. She was dressed casually—a loose button-up shirt thrown over a dark tank top.

For a brief moment, you struggled to place her. Was there anything in Robert’s file about a (significantly) younger sister?

Spencer introduced himself as FBI, and as he pulled out his badge, he made a very deliberate effort to avoid even accidentally meeting your gaze.

Understanding suddenly dawned on her face, and her lips pressed together slightly.

"You're here because of Robert," she stated rather than asked. "I heard he escaped. Well, I guess everyone in this country has heard by now. I've been careful about opening the door in case he… decided to show up."

There was tension—fear, even—in those last few words.

"And you are…?" you began, trailing off.

"His cousin," she replied in a strange tone, as if introducing herself with some kind of cruel nickname she'd been given in high school. "Rosas. On his mother’s side. I take care of my uncle—he’s not doing too well anymore. You want to talk to him, right?"

"May we?" Spencer asked. There was more behind it.

Will we be able to?

Rosas let you in, leading you to a small bedroom on the ground floor. What had once been a cozy space with gray walls now resembled a hospital room, with a fan positioned right next to the bed where a frail-looking man lay. His face was gaunt, his body thinned by age and illness.

He didn’t look much like Robert—or maybe it was just hard for you to see the resemblance through the years and the sickness.

As you stepped inside, the girl leaned against the doorway, arms crossed over her chest, watching your every move.

“He’s not very responsive,” she warned. “ALS. He can’t even breathe on his own anymore. And his mind’s been going for a while. He says things that don’t make sense, sometimes calls me by different names. I… I don’t know if this conversation will help you at all.”

Spencer moved closer to the bed, his sharp eyes already absorbing every detail of the room. You, on the other hand, needed a closer, more deliberate look. So, without shame, you started pacing, examining the framed photos of sailboats and ocean landscapes that lined the walls. Devoted to his passion until the very end.

You approached the dresser, where a small lighthouse figurine stood.

“That’s very generous of you,” you remarked, not turning around. “Taking care of your sick uncle.”

Rosas hesitated before answering, then scoffed.

“He wrote in his will that his entire estate would go to whoever took care of him in his final days,” she stated, without a hint of remorse.

A small smirk tugged at your lips.

“I see. And I appreciate the honesty,” you said.

Of course, you didn’t judge her. How could you blame a young girl for wanting to secure some money in this economy? In fact, you were almost certain that if you had a dying relative with a fortune up for grabs, you’d do the same.

As you stared at the photo of Robert embracing his father against the backdrop of a boat, Spencer was trying to communicate with Joseph—a task that wasn’t easy, given his condition. The man barely reacted, his eyes drifting somewhere beyond the two of you, as if he were stuck in another time and place.

Rosas decided to help, stepping into the man's field of vision and speaking to him in a voice that suddenly became soft and soothing. In an instant, her nonchalant attitude disappeared, replaced by that of a caring guardian. There was no denying it—he was lucky to have her by his side in his final moments.

“So you think Robert might want to visit his father?” you asked after both of you had seemingly given up and were now just staring at the man in silence, as if waiting for something. “You’re scared.”

“I know what he did to those women. Of course, I’m scared,” she said, her tone suddenly colder. Then she took a deeper breath, as if trying to calm herself down. “I think it’s possible he might show up. He broke out of prison, he probably needs money and…whatever else people who break out of prison need.”

Spencer nodded, confirming her theory.

“Don’t you think he might also want to say goodbye to his father?” he asked.

Rosas hesitated, considering the question.

“I’m not sure,” she admitted after a moment, shaking her head slightly. “My uncle got much worse after Robert was arrested. Especially after he found out that he was the one who killed my aunt. That…hit him harder than the other women.”

“That’s her?” you asked, pointing at the framed photo of a woman by the man’s bedside.

You froze in place as soon as you saw it.

Fuck.

Rosas confirmed it and went on talking with Spencer about her cousin. Two years ago, she hadn’t testified in his case—she was practically a new witness, a fresh perspective. Apparently, their families had never been particularly close.

You watched as Spencer listened intently, nodding with a thoughtful expression. Oddly enough, it filled you with a sense of calm. If he had pulled something important from this conversation, then this wasn’t a waste of time, and maybe—just maybe—you were one step closer to finding Rebekah.

You caught yourself realizing that you still trusted his mind.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the photo on the bedside table, lost in thought, until a sharp gasp yanked you out of your trance.

“Clinton,” Joseph Miller suddenly rasped, his voice hoarse yet somehow…tender? His eyes darted around frantically, taking in his surroundings with desperation, though they remained vacant.

Spencer and Rosas rushed to him, eager to seize this brief moment of lucidity.

“Clinton…Clinton…my poor boy…”

"Mr. Miller, can you hear me?" Spencer asked, his voice firm but gentle.

Silence. The man’s body went still again.

"Who is Clinton?" The words slipped from your lips before you could stop them.

Rosas adjusted the pillow under Miller's head, her movements careful.

"A family friend, you could say," she replied. "Well, I never knew him as a child because he was much older than me, just like Robert. But the Millers sort of took care of him after his parents died."

"Did they adopt him?" Spencer furrowed his brow. "We didn't know about that..."

"No, they didn’t adopt him," she corrected, shaking her head. "I mean... as far as I know, he grew up across the street. He was friends with Robert, and his parents weren't, well... the best. So he spent a lot of time with them. They’d take him on sailing trips, I think they even helped him financially when he went to school. By the time they died, he was already an adult, so there was no need for formal adoption. My uncle always treated him like his own son."

You and Spencer exchanged a glance, both of you frozen for a moment. You were sure your eyes were reflecting the same realization. You'd just found the partner you'd been searching for.

The air seemed to press heavily down on you, and you wiped your tired face with your hand.

"He was here a few days ago," Rosas added after a moment, reluctantly. "I didn’t like it much because... well, anyway, they talked privately for a while. At least, Clinton tried to talk to him."

She didn’t need to finish the sentence for you to understand her unease. The man who, as she said, her uncle treated like a son, suddenly appearing. A potential rival for the inheritance. A cold shiver ran down your spine, and when you glanced at Spencer, his expression mirrored yours. If your theory was correct... Rosas, just a few days ago, had let a serial killer into her home. Or at least his accomplice.

Spencer asked her for a few more details about him. After thanking her, she led you both to the door, but you hesitated for a moment.

"That's a very weak lock," you said, nodding toward the door. "It wouldn't be hard to break in. I’ll send someone to install a better one for you, okay? Since Robert is out there, it’s better not to take any risks. Maybe the police will offer some protection," you added louder so Spencer, walking toward the car, could hear you.

The girl smiled faintly. You couldn’t help it—you felt some sympathy for her. And you were scared for her safety, just as you were scared for Rebekah. And for yourself.

You were about to turn around when something stopped you.

"You know, you could just disconnect him from the respirator," you muttered. It wasn’t that you wanted to suggest it, but you were curious about her reaction, about her real feelings toward her uncle. There was a lot of tenderness in the way she treated him, and you didn’t think it was just for profit. "You’d save him from suffering. And get the inheritance faster."

Rosas stared at you, probably thinking you were joking. She likely thought you were also in the FBI. Then she shook her head, as if in disbelief.

"I don’t think I could," she said softly. "Besides, this job isn’t that bad. I’d rather wait than end up in prison if someone found out."

"Fair point," you agreed, your gaze drifting to the side, where Spencer stood with his hand resting on the car door, listening to your conversation. Curiosity was the first step to hell. You raised your voice just enough to make sure he’d hear. "Although, sometimes all it takes is having a guy in the police, and you can get away with anything." Rosas chuckled, likely understanding what you were doing. "I honestly recommend it."

You waved her off one last time, and she gave you a friendly wave back.

When you got into the car, Spencer was staring at you seriously.

"Did you just suggest that girl kill her uncle?" he asked, his disbelief evident in his voice.

You shrugged. You couldn’t be bothered to explain it.

“I was just making sure she knew all her options.”

“Options...?” he repeated, sounding confused. Then he sighed, shaking his head. “I used to think nothing could surprise me about you, that I knew absolutely everything there was to know about you, and now, here you are, showing up two years later, and...”

He suddenly stopped, his jaw dropping when he saw what you pulled out of your jacket pocket.

“Did you fucking steal this?”

“Wait, let me explain…”

“You stole a dying man’s photo of his dead wife?”

He stared at the frame in your hands.

“I had to, because…” you started, but he cut you off again.

“Let me guess, that frame is probably worth a lot, right? You just couldn’t resist. Honestly, should I start tying your hands every time we go somewhere...?”

You silenced him with your hand, forcing him to close his mouth. You were so close now that you could see his dark eyes widen in surprise. Your next breath was a little shallower for some reason.

“I need to show you something,” you said calmly, almost in a whisper. He was close enough to hear every word, no need to raise your voice. “At my apartment.”

His gaze lingered on your face, then briefly dropped, only to return to your eyes. You removed your hand from his face and, after a moment, pulled away. There was urgency in your tone, a sense of seriousness.

Spencer swallowed, nodding slightly in agreement.

He stared at the two photos. One, slightly damaged, was from your album. The other, framed in an expensive frame. Though they were two different shots, it was undeniable they depicted the same woman.

You watched Spencer closely, noting the expression on his face. His eyes fixed on one point in front of him, his lips pressed tight, his jaw more defined than usual. You both sat on the floor of your bedroom, facing each other, the album spread out between you like a campfire around which campers gather. Without a word, he flipped through the remaining pages of the album, all the photos where your face had been cut out.

He froze when he came across the photo of the two of you in Rome.

He carefully reached for it by the corner, staring at himself, because, well, you were there only from your neck down. Honestly, you were at a loss for words. Here you were, flipping through pictures of your once happy relationship with your ex. The atmosphere wasn’t exactly light, and the spacious bedroom suddenly didn’t feel so spacious anymore.

Suddenly, Spencer cleared his throat, forcing himself to look back at the photos of the woman.

"That's Robert Miller's mother," he said, his voice still hoarse. "In both pictures."

You sat cross-legged, bracing yourself with your hands on either side of your body for better stability. Your head was spinning a little.

"He showed me this photo because..." you trailed off, shaking your head as you searched for an explanation. "I remind him of his mother? The same one he drowned?"

"Maybe..." Spencer began, but suddenly hesitated, falling silent.

"It's okay. You can say it," you encouraged, trying to mask the tension building in your chest.

"Maybe he sees you the same way he saw her," he explained, trying to soften his tone, as if not wanting to scare you. It irritated you a bit; you didn’t want him to treat you like a victim—more like a partner in the investigation. "As a problem that needs to be eliminated."

Your face gave no expression. You already knew this, but hearing it from him made it sound more blunt. You took a breath, a little hastily, trying to maintain a calm demeanor.

"I think it’s been here for a while, I just didn’t notice it," you admitted truthfully. "It definitely didn’t show up yesterday. Which means Robert couldn’t have dropped it off, it must’ve been his accomplice. Probably that Clinton guy."

"We need to find him. Well, both of them, actually."

And save Rebekah, you added in your mind.

You saw Spencer’s gaze drop back to your album, and how he forced himself to look away again. You nodded encouragingly at him.

"Go ahead."

Spencer stared at you for a moment, sitting right across from him, before he slowly reached for the album, immediately skipping to the pages where most of the history of your relationship was captured. Many of the pictures showed just him, like the one where he was lying on the couch with reading glasses perched on his nose, absorbed in a book, while you sat opposite him, nudging his leg clad in pajama pants, forcing him to look at the camera. You told yourself in your mind that he was probably just curious about how he looked back then.

“I didn’t think you’d still have these,” he said, his gaze still on the photo. The corners of his mouth barely twitched, but he looked like he was holding back a smile. Then, finally, he gave in, and a small smile tugged at his lips. It had been so long since you'd seen it, and it was hard not to keep staring at him. “I didn’t even know half of these existed, but, you know… just saying.”

You let out a quiet chuckle.

“I move around a lot,” you said. “It’s harder to keep memories. But I like having them. Photos help.”

“Memories with your ex,” Spencer added, and you raised an eyebrow at him.

You studied him for a moment, then sighed.

“They’re still good memories,” you said. “You were...an interesting experience, you know. I loved you, even though we weren’t together long. In a way, I probably always will. It’s not like I look at you and feel hatred, or can’t even stand looking at your face in photos.”

You said it casually, a bit of a smirk playing on your lips. Spencer raised his eyes to look at you, a strange expression on his face that you couldn’t decipher. This time, in his hand, was a photo showing only his back as he walked a step ahead of you at some festival or event, reaching back without looking to grab your hand.

You shrugged, not quite understanding.

"So what?" you asked. "Do you just hate all your exes?”

"Of course not," he denied.

Both of you stayed quiet for a moment.

"Just me, huh?" you asked.

Spencer’s face twitched as he reached for the next photo in the album, not answering right away. It was one of the few that showed both of you together, and it was a good one. It had been taken in a slightly spontaneous moment when you had just returned to his apartment from a restaurant. His shirt sleeves were slightly rolled up, visible as he cupped your opposite cheek with his hand, holding it gently while kissing you on the cheek, the kiss a bit chaotic because of the small smile on his lips. His eyes were closed.

“Can I keep this one?” he asked softly, lifting the photograph so you could see which one he meant. He held it so gently, as if it were something sacred.

His question caught you off guard, and the answer slipped out before you could stop yourself.

“No,” you replied curtly. Then you quickly shook your head, almost as if to bring yourself—and both of you—back to reality. What were you even doing? You were dwelling on the end of your relationship when you should’ve been fully focused on finding Rebekah, tracking down Robert, and hunting for the mysterious partner. You rose from your seated position to kneel, gathering the photos.

“Listen, we should focus on locating this Clinton guy. Somehow. From what Rosas said, he’s not exactly a clean guy. I’ll ask some of my contacts…”

“Oh, I’m sure my team will find him soon enough,” he cut in confidently.

He handed you the photo and stood up, adjusting his position. His shirt slightly pulled out of his pants as he moved. His face still wore that tired expression, and after your strange exchange, it seemed more tense than ever. You felt a bit weighed down by the situation yourself, but you quickly shook off the thoughts. It didn’t matter if he hated you or not.

Both of you paused for a moment, each with doubt written on your face.

"We'll see, so the people will be first," you said with a hint of sarcasm.

Spencer tilted his head thoughtfully, then gave a nod.

"Alright. The one who wins gets to keep the photo."

He didn’t need to specify which one. You raised an eyebrow, surprised that it mattered to him that much. Maybe he just needed some kind of stake for the bet, and that was the first thing that came to his mind. He stared at you, waiting for an answer, which came in the form of a simple shrug.

"Fine."

He looked at you for a moment longer, then seemed to realize he was probably planning to leave the apartment. His eyes blinked a little faster, as if he reminded himself of that. When he crossed the threshold, a strange feeling filled not just you but the entire apartment. Well, your previous interactions, your past conversations, never carried such honesty. Not once before had you both lowered your guards, revealing a little more of yourselves. Through the constant teasing and not-so-pleasant remarks, it was easy for you to miss the kind of longing that had been lingering between you.

You closed the door behind Spencer, but you didn’t lock it. You spent a long moment suspended in emptiness, leaning over a single sentence you had said to him, the one that had made him so uneasy. I loved you, even though we weren’t together long. In a way, I probably always will.

It wasn’t that you were ready to throw yourself into his arms or go back to him. The meaning lay in the fact that his presence would always carry some sentiment, an enduring nostalgia, and a collection of fading, good moments and feelings. Maybe you wouldn’t tell your grandchildren about him, but if one of them asked about him, pointing at a photo in the album, you wouldn’t frown—you’d smile.

A few minutes passed, when you heard...footsteps in the hallway.

Irresponsible, but you immediately opened the door. Somehow, you recognized them right away, knew that it was him, coming back to your door, even though he had just left. You almost laughed at the sight. Almost, because instead, you threw your arms around his neck, pulling him into a kiss that made his entire body lean in.

You didn’t know what wild impulse was driving you, but it was definitely nothing rational, nothing justified. Spencer remained still for a second or two, before his hand landed on your cheek. You almost forgot how he could kiss, the intensity of it making you take a step back, of course, pulling him along with you.

For a moment, you were out of breath, not opening your eyes as you pulled your face away from his, letting out an uneasy sigh. But then your lips didn’t find his again. Instead, you cracked your eyelids open, noticing that strange expression on his face—embarrassment, despite unspoken tension, a hunger he couldn't hide, even though he tried.

"I was going to say..." he started, quickly losing his train of thought and furrowing his brow to try to get it back. "I came back because my friend, Penelope, already tracked down Clinton’s apartment. And...and..I just wanted to tell you that."

Oopsie.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄

taglist: @she-wont-miss @mggslover @nyeddleblog @dylanobrienswife0420 @wmoony @heddgie @khxna @marauder-exe-old @yujyujj @charleyreid @kitty-kai @sp3ncelle @pleasantwitchgarden @beesin03 @misserabella @re1dsb1xch @trulymadlydarling @cynbx @penelopegarciaismygf @awordsmith @i-padfootblack-things @honestlyloving @fromsaltandsea @kwonhoeshi @mega-kittyglitter-1 @sleepysongbirdsings

*part 3 will be so freaking long get ready pls

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid fanfic #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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heliza24 · 1 month ago

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A Devil's Minion disability rec list

There are so many reasons I love Daniel/Armand, but the most important is the way that thinking about these characters asks us to explore themes of illness, neurodivergence, disability, and dysfunctional bodies. From Armand being sick when he was turned, to Daniel's Parkinson's, to Armand being extremely autistic coded, to the way the past DM/book DM timeline is inextricable from the AIDs crisis-- you simply cannot escape crip themes when you contemplate Daniel and Armand's love. The other reason I love Devil's Minion so much is that the corner of the fandom that has sprung up around them does not try to escape these themes. Instead I have engaged in deep conversations about disability, met other disabled fans, and read so much incredibly thoughtful and beautifully written fics that explore aspects of disability that I would never have thought of myself. There is a lot of painful eugenics rhetoric happening in the US right now, and I have found myself being drawn back to these thoughtful fics when I need some comfort. So I compiled my list for you in case you would like to read them too:

The Good Nurse by @welcomingdisaster, 63,876 words, Explicit

This is a slight AU, where the second interview never happens and instead Armand is hired as Daniel’s live-in caregiver as his Parkinson’s progresses. The lyrical prose, along with the side plot of Daniel investigating a piece about conspiracy theories around autism that illuminate some interesting things about Armand, make this one really special.

Question: Can an Immortal Meet Mortality? by @hummingbee-o0o, 7,920 words, Mature

This is one of my all time favorites and I think about it all the time. I love when a fic weaves together the different pieces of Armand’s life around a single theme. This one centers around all of the epidemics that Armand has lived through, from the plague to AIDs to Covid. The recurring image of Daniel’s TB vaccination scar and the way Armand thanks it for keeping Daniel safe is so beautiful.

Run, Arun! by @nightcolorz, 3,274 words, Mature

I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about how Armand chose to violate the great laws when he turned Daniel, but hadn’t considered that Armand’s autism might make him feel like a violation himself. I also love how this is written in the second person, which is hard to pull off but this writer does really well.

hold very still by @mycenaae, 2,796 words, Mature

A fic that truly captures the chronically ill fantasy of having a vampire boyfriend: Armand uses his mind gift to take away Daniel’s Parkinson’s pain for a short while.

Backroads to Sonoma by burntcrimson 20,251, Mature

I am generally extremely picky with AUs but this is one of my all time favorites. In the middle of the AIDs crisis, Daniel is driving cross country, interviewing truckers and sex workers. He picks up a Armand as a hitchhiker, who he realizes he knows from childhood. Armand is sick and set on revenge, but his time with Daniel still leads to unexpected love.

I think this works so well as an AU because this version of Armand retains some of his otherworldliness and dangerousness; how that intersects with his diagnosis is really interesting. It’s also got the prose of like, the next great American novel, so that doesn’t hurt either.

Saffron by @maester-of-spreadsheets , 4,509 words, Teen

Set during season 1, Armand helps Daniel fall asleep despite his insomnia and pain while temporarily dropping the Rashid guise. It's very tender and really captures the feeling of what it is like to live with fatigue. Also shoutout to a fellow DM Writer server member!

i'll ask for more time (but mother forgive me) by @ignorethepineapples, 3,512 words, Mature

Another all time fave by a fellow member of the DM author’s discord! This is another one that weaves together different scenes from Armand’s and Daniel’s life through theme— this time it’s around illness, and around both of their turnings. The fic imagines Armand’s fatal illness as syphilis, which can have Parkinson’s like symptoms (this is so good that if the show doesn’t do this, I’m rioting). The fic connects this to Daniel’s fear during the AIDs epidemic and his eventual turning that saves him after a fall from Parkinson’s nearly kills him. Daniel’s turning is imbued with such tenderness, it makes me cry.

Chipped Fang, by anonymous, 12,013 words, Explicit

After being turned, Daniel is in agonizing pain. It turns out that one of Armand's fangs fell out and became embedded in his neck during the turning, and Armand has been suffering without his missing tooth as well. This is not the same as giving Daniel chronic pain after turning because of Parkinson's but I really love anything that points to the idea of vampire's bodies being fallible and still capable of problems, and I think this is such a clever idea and execution.

Portraiture by @sylvies-chen, 4,436 words, Mature

Armand has the idea that he and Daniel should participate in the couple’s trend of painting portraits of each other as a way to sneakily help him rehab his trembling hands (I always love when fics casually maintain some symptoms of Parkinson’s after Daniel becoming a vampire). And well, it’s been over 400 years since Armand was painted and really seen by a lover, so this is very sweet.

and so you did. by evaniigouki, 7,890 words, Explicit

There are a lot of great fics that mention that Daniel has retained some of his Parkinson's symptoms after being turned into a vampire without centering their plot around it. This is just one, which I like because I think it really captures the verbal sparing that Daniel and Armand get up to in the show. This is set in the penthouse immediately following season 2. I really like how this fic captures a whole mix of emotions: Daniel is angry that Armand has erased his memories, Armand is desperate to be wanted by someone after Louis has left, and they're both attracted to each other in an incredibly complicated way.

Til the Act is Done series by @apoptoses, 13,944 words across 2 fics, Explicit

The one book canon fic on this list! These fics aren’t literally about disability, but I’m recommending them because the restrictions of vampirism can sometimes be read as a metaphor for disability, which I think works especially well here. These fics are about Daniel trying to understand how Armand experiences sex, as a full body experience that’s focused on blood and biting instead of genitals. It is very sweet and very hot and resonated with me as someone who experiences sexual dysfunction as part of my medical condition.

you like control, well I do too by @gaysie, 9,975 words, Explicit

Another beautiful piece that tracks moments of Armand and Daniel’s lives around a theme; this time it’s food and eating disorders. (A big trigger warning for this of course; only read if it is safe for you to do so). This fic tracks how Armand’s need for control morphed into an eating disorder as Marius and the other men he was loaned out to commented on his weight, and how Daniel’s binges extended from drugs and alcohol to food. And how they both find acceptance and healing in each other.

A Love that Never Was by @mitchiesawyer, 13,303 words (so far), Mature

The only in progress fic on this list but I think the chapters that are up still merit inclusion! This fic takes the concept that Armand has Dissociative Identity Disorder seriously, and has Amadeo (with an occasional appearance by Arun) front when he turns and falls back in love with Daniel after the events of season 2. When Armand returns he has no memory of turning Daniel, which has me holding my breath and hoping that Armand can admit he loves Daniel just as much as Arun and Amadeo do.

Daddy by @verimuru and @graygiantess, 1,128 words, or in comic form, Mature

Another one that perfectly captures the chronically ill fantasy of having a vampire boyfriend- in this one it's Armand taking Daniel out dancing, and using his vampire skills and accumulated capital to protect him from Covid. Graygiantess's (another DM writers server member!) always witty dialogue is in good form here, and I love Verimuru's illustration style in the comic.

Defect (5 +1) by @aberrantangelsmind, 6,290 words, Explicit

What if Marius told Armand that his eye shaking was wrong, akin to a vampire disfigurement? How would Armand try to hide the shame of that flaw with the Children of Darkness or with Louis? And how would he feel when Daniel’s vampires eye also behave in an unusual way? This fic posits the idea that these unique eyes are remnants of being turned when Armand and Daniel were sick as mortals, which means they’re badges of resilience. That’s so beautiful! I love this interpretation of that trait.

The Devil, his own self series by @sburator, 37, 422 words across 2 fics, Explicit

This is such a nice slow burn, with Armand acting as Daniel’s caregiver after the events of season 2 and slowly convincing Daniel to accept the dark gift. Past DM happened in this fic, but some elements are reimagined in the current timeline with older Daniel, like the blood locket, which I liked. I also really like how much agency this fic (and Armand) gives Daniel, to be angry, to be annoyed, and to make his own decision regarding immortality. When he does accept it, it is very beautiful.

the old man and the vampire series by Zeebruh, 35,757 words across 2 fics, explicit

This one was written before season 2, and I haven't really revisited it since, but I had to include it because it was the fic that turned me from Devil's Minion curious to Devil's Minion obsessed. I love the accessible sex that happens in part 1, and I love the push-pull toxic past devil's minion timeline described in part 2.

Love can not fill the thickened lung with breath, nor clean the blood by me, 47,329 words, Explicit

And last but not least, a little self promo to round it all off. This is my long fic, that spans from post season 2 to Daniel’s turning. I tried to incorporate all my disability thoughts here- from Armand’s thoughts about breaking the rules for Daniel to Daniel’s reconciliation with Armand being shaped by his experiences with chronic pain to Daniel’s Parkinson’s lingering post turning. There is also a lot of kinky disabled sex which is both hot and tender (if I do say so myself). I’d love if you checked it out.

That's it for now! If you have other favorite DM fics that explore themes of disability, illness or neurodivergence, please feel free to reblog and add them or send them to me separately. I would love to have enough new favorites to write a second list soon.

#interview with the vampire #iwtv #devil's minion #daniel molloy #armand #fic recs #devils minion

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