#purple rain will be expensive as hell like more than the chain do you understand | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gnocchighoul · 4 years

Text

Big Spoon Bribery

Summary: This is the second part of this drabble!

Reader is gender neutral :D

Warnings: Mild angst and allusions to spicy times. This is mostly fluff.

Word Count: 3k

A/N: thank you @beelzebubs1trulove for the title 😘

AO3 portal

You have three missions. In order of importance, they are—

Acquire the coveted position of big spoon.

Help Lucifer and Belphie make amends.

Don’t die trying

Alright, perhaps maybe that last one should be higher up. But you just really really really want to be the big spoon. So badly. Like, you put together a gift basket to bribe Lucifer badly. In your totally humble and neutral opinion it’s a stunning work of art—lacquered black wicker basket three times the size of your head, stuffed to the brim with Princess’s Poison Apples, Coffee of Melancholy beans, some incredibly luxurious stationery, black booty shorts with ‘Enemy of The State’ in bold red print across the butt, and a bottle of Demonus, all surrounding the pièce de résistance: a voodoo doll of Mammon.

Oh yes. Tonight is going to go incredibly well.

The plan is simple and straightforward—foolproof. Suffocate Lucifer with presents and love, and then, when he's in a good mood and not expecting it: beg.

You reckon the odds are 51 to 49, in your favor. You’ve risked your life on worse—your short history in the Devildom is a glowing testament to that. It’s good enough. You’ve already cast the die. Now all that's left is to see where it lands.

To increase your chances of success, you’ve pulled out all of the stops for this momentous occasion. No expense was spared in making Lucifer’s room as clichély romantic as possible. The fireplace? Lit. Pillows? Fluffed. Lights? Dimmed. Rose petals? Scattered. Tastefully.

Even the big, (still) nameless skeleton—the guardian perched ominously in the corner of the room—is in on your shenanigans romantic gesture. The pair of black sunshades you had so skillfully taped onto it’s face have been replaced by an even better pair—oversized, bubblegum pink and heart shaped. Courtesy of your wardrobe, of course.

Now, you wait.

You throw one last fistful of crimson rose petals at the hardwood, then dive face-first into bed. In the distance, thunder rumbles. Though that might have been Beelzebub’s stomach. No way to know for sure.

This is fine. Totally fine. You’re an expert at being patient. A master, even. If RAD gave out degrees for being patient—well, you wouldn’t have one, because you’d have to wait for it. But it would be fine because you’re just so good at that. Waiting.

Patience. Paaaaaatience. Pay-shens. It’s fine. Yep. Nothing awful about this at all. You’re just going to wait.

And wait.

And keep waiting because apparently he’s working late again and totally disrupting your amorous plans, god dammit.

You toss your D.D.D aside and turn your attention out the windows, to the forest. The night sky is darker than usual—the moon swallowed whole by a maw of angry storm clouds, the darkest you’ve ever seen. The center of it crackles with purple lightning, splintering down to lash teasingly at the treetops.

You shift—adjust your mess of pillows and blankets, so that your head is at the foot of the bed. It’s not like you have anything better to do (not until Lucifer gets here) so you might as well watch the storm.

“Hm? What’s all this?”

You wake with a start—desperately try to pretend that you weren’t just drooling into the pillows. Lucifer is stood over your gift, examining it with shining eyes and upturned lips.

“Surprise!”

He’s already in pajamas. He totally saw you knocked out.

Lucifer tilts his head—lifts the voodoo doll and turns it over in his hands. Pokes at it’s plush belly with an index finger. Jabs a finger into its cheek, right next to the black-stitch smile. Holds it upside down by one foot. Your highly advanced Lucifer-reading skills tell you that he’s pleased. Poor Mammon. You should probably send him an apology gift basket.

Lucifer shakes mini-Mammon like a maraca. “What’s the occasion?”

“No occasion! I just felt like spoiling you.”

“You don’t say?” He drops the mini-Mammon back into the basket and makes his way to the bed—the mattress dips as he moves to hover over you, hands coming up to cage your head, one knee planted firmly between your thighs. Mirth dances between the red and black of his irises. “I should return the favor.”

He dips down to kiss you and your lightning fast reflexes kick in—your hand snaps up to cover his mouth. You feel his lips turn down into a scowl and you grin, shifting some beneath him.

“Chin up, buttercup. Don’t look so grumpy, I have something else in mind.” You waggle your eyebrows, and now he just looks confused—as much as he can with you pawing at his mouth—but perhaps a bit more hopeful. Sweetly, you whisper, “There’s something I want.”

He glances at the basket, eyes narrowing suspiciously, and knocks your hand away. He can’t help but wonder—why are you being so cryptic? What in the realms are you plotting now?

A little apprehensively, he says, “Is that right? What do you—”

“I’m so glad you asked! Lemme be the big spoon.”

“... That’s it? ”

You stare him down with the biggest, saddest, most heart-wrenching puppy eyes that you can muster. “Pretty please with a poison apple on top?”

He stares at you, disbelieving. Quirks a single neat brow and—oh. There it is. That all too familiar look in your eyes. Searing determination that burns brighter than the flames of Hell. Fierce and vivid. You’re entirely serious.

“That’s what you want?”

“Yes.”

“...You went through the trouble of making all that—” he gestures loosely at the basket. “Just because you want to be the ‘big spoon ’?”

You pat his cheek with a dopey grin. “No trouble at all when it’s for you.”

Lucifer ducks his head. Pink stains his cheeks. “You’re a menace.”

"Only for you, my love~"

You’re on cloud nine. Over the moon and stars. Walking on air.

At long last, you are the Big Spoon.

You understand now, why he’s so insistent on being the one to hold you. This is even better than the occasions when he’ll angrily throw himself into your lap and demand to be pet, which is saying something because those are some damn good times.

But this? This takes the cake.

You’ve got one arm snaked around his chest, the other up and playing with his hair. You could spend an eternity like this—content to listen to the rain pelting against the windows, your face buried in the crook of his neck.

There’s a small scar, just hidden by his hairline. You wonder if he even knows about it. If he remembers how it got there. It’s more recent—not as faded as the jagged twin scars carved into the center of his back, hugging his spine.

There are some things—very few things—that you don’t bring up. Lucifer’s missing set of wings is one of them. You have your theories, of course—you’ve seen the frayed raven feathers that Satan brandishes around his neck, not dissimilar to a trophy. You know of how he was created—of the bond that chains him to Lucifer. You know.

But, there are some things better left unsaid.

A proverb that you are absolutely about to contradict.

You have a mission, after all.

Slowly, stealthily, you lift a leg, hooking it around his hip so that he can’t escape.

“What are you doing?”

Okay, so maybe not as stealthy as you thought. He knows something is up, so you tighten your hold on him, just in case he flips when you start to pick at his feelings like a scab.

His apprehension, combined with how comfortable you are almost makes you want to throw in the towel. You could. Probably even should. This has gone above and beyond your expectations—your stomach twists at the thought of souring such a perfectly sweet moment.

Alas, your family is in turmoil, and you are but a humble knight in shining pajamas. Literally—silk is just so shiny.

Unless you want to end up with a face blasted full of feathers, you need to approach this carefully. You’re in the danger zone now—the risk is high, but so is the reward.

“Hey, Lu?”

“Hm?”

Carefully, now.

“Why did you and Belphie fight?”

You’re not sure how he manages it, what with your intense octopus hold on him, but with infuriating ease, he manages to twist around in your grasp so that he’s facing you. His upper lip curls into the slightest snarl, revealing sharp incisors.

“I’m not discussing this with you.”

“Why not?”

“Because I said so.”

“Because you… said so.” your tone is flat—offended. Heat ignites between the rungs of your ribcage, swirling around your lungs, sudden and consuming. It’s not the good kind.

He glares down his nose. You can see yourself in the black of his eyes—see the pinched furrow of your brow, the acidic bite of your own gaze. “Yes. Because it’s none of your business.”

“None of my business? You’re both my family and therefore both my business. And even if you won’t tell me, I still know that you shifted first. Usually the one who throws the first punch is the one that also needs to apologize first, y’know?”

“I see.” Lucifer’s eyes narrow—harden. He’s gone tense in your hold. You briefly consider squeezing him like a stress ball. “You’re taking his side.”

“Taking his—I don’t even know what the argument was about!”

Lucifer says nothing. You stare. Silence.

Seriously? Is that what he thinks you’re doing?

“Lucifer.”

He turns his head away.

“Lucifer. ”

He doesn’t look at you. Won’t look.

When Lucifer gets like this, you can’t afford to be tentative and gentle. He needs force—needs to be handled. Just a bit.

So, you take matters into your own hands. Literally.

You smush his cheeks between your palms and hold him in place, waiting for him to turn that bitter gaze upon your own. He looks like an angry goldfish—the handsomest goldfish that you’ve ever had the pleasure of spooning. Also, the only one.

“I’m on your side, Lucifer.” With a feather light touch, you brush your thumb across his cheekbone. “That’s why I think you should make the effort to just talk to him. You’re happier when your whole family is getting along.”

Your observation is right. It’s a truth that’s still too tender, too raw, but, it’s the truth. You know it. He knows it.

So, naturally, he escapes your grip and tries to flee.

“NO!” You swing a leg over his hips and shove him back into the mattress. He goes down hard, and before he can escape, you perch your happy little ass right on his chest, locking his arms against his sides with your thighs and praying to Diavolo that he won’t hurl you across the room at mach 5.

He doesn’t splatter you against the wall, but he does smile for a split second. Somehow that’s scarier.

Your heart chisels away at your ribcage now, and somewhere, in the recesses of your mind, you wonder if he can hear it.

“Look.” you ease the death-grip of your legs—nervously sweep a piece of lint off his shirt. “When we started dating, we made a deal. Remember? ‘No holding back’. Sealed with a pinky promise and everything. You and I are a team. A pair. Two peas in a pod. The heart and the brain! Tui and La. Co-captains! Pilot and co-pilo—”

Another twitch of the lips. “I get it.”

You nod sagely. “You get it. You don’t have to tell me the details of what happened if you don’t want to. I mean, it’d be nice because you know how incredibly nosey I am—stop nodding—but I’m willing to compromise if you at least tell me how you’re feeling. I want to know where your head is at. I know you’ve done this by yourself for thousands of years, but it’s not just you anymore, okay? I’m here, now. You’re stuck with me and I’m going to get that through your thick ass demon skull even if I have to—”

“Okay, okay, okay.” With a heaving sigh, Lucifer sits up, knocking you into his lap like a turtle on its shell. Before you can squirm away, he pulls you up—maneuvers you both so that his back is against the headboard, you straddling his lap. Eye to eye. “I take it you wrote all that down before I got here.”

You relax into him—loop your arms around his neck. His hands settle on your waist. “Yep. Two drafts. The other version had a lot more cussing. Wanna read it?”

He chuckles—presses a kiss to your temple and smiles there. “Of course.”

You two stay that way for a bit—content to sit in the silence and listen to the soft pattering of rain on the windows. You’re 99.99% sure he still isn’t going to talk about this, but you think that you got through to him. Somewhat.

Baby steps.

“Promise you’ll at least try to talk to him?”

Lucifer sighs, a bit dramatically. “I suppose so.”

You lean back to give him a look that says Really?

“I mean it. I will.”

You hold up your pinky finger and he stares at it, looking absolutely scandalized by your youthful ways. You tap it against his chest once, twice. Nothing. You tug the hair at the nape of his neck, and waggle your pinky. “C’mon, handsome. Make a pact with me.”

He rolls his eyes, but wraps his own firmly around yours, the barest hint of a smile on his lips. When you try to drop your hand, he threads his fingers through yours, and tucks you back into his chest.

“So…” your voice is small, muffled against his neck. “Can I still be the big spoon tonight?”

((Thank you for reading! Didya catch the atla reference? :D I just couldn’t help myself~ I’ve got two braincells rn—one of them is for obey me and the other is for atla. Dual wielding hyperfixations at it's finest. likes and comments are v appreciated 🥺👉👈 ))

His laugh is the second sweetest thing you’ve ever heard—the first being the totally betrayed gasp that bursts past his lips when you blow a big fat raspberry into his neck.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #swd obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me drabble #obey me fanfic #obey me! shall we date?#gnocchiwrites #obey me headcanons

775 notes · View notes

storiitime · 7 years

Text

Green Euphoria

Joker x Reader x Harley Quinn

Part 1

Part 2 Part 3

Rated M

Word count: 2621

Events take place after Suicide Squad.

It was a gloomy, rainy night in Gotham; the streets were covered in an inch of rain and very few cars were out, making it strangely quiet. While most of the city was at home in their warm beds, you unfortunately were a part of the dark underground that came out at night to do things normal people couldn’t even imagine. It’s not as though you chose this life, though. You had no other choice. You sat in the backseat of the black Escalade staring outside, watching the droplets roll slowly down the window. As the street lamps went by and illuminated the tiny droplets, the events of that fateful day replayed in your head.

It was like a scene from a horror movie; blood splattered the walls from the bullets, broken glass, papers, clothes, and jewelry covered the floor. On top of the mess lay the bodies of your roommates, large holes in the middle of their foreheads. You sat on your knees, your hands bound and tape covering your mouth, tears rolling down your cheeks. One of your roommates had been falsely courted in a club by a man who worked for a mafia group in Gotham. He pretended to court her to gain her trust, enough to take him back to your home where you and your two best friends lived. It turned out his job was to find vulnerable women whom they could abduct and use as weapons.

You were in bed, half asleep when you heard them enter your home. They came in a pack of six, all dressed in black and wearing animal masks. They forced the three of you on your knees in a row while they looked you over. Who knows what criteria they had been searching for, but they had decided that you were the only one they would keep.

“This one will do, kill the others.” The one in the bear mask spoke, looking you up and down. You tried to scream through the tape, but you couldn’t let out a sound. You could do nothing as you watched them shoot your friends one by one. “Search the place, take any valuables. Bring her to the van.”

You flailed violently as two of them dragged you out of the home. They pulled you out into the cold street and threw you into the back of a white van. Shortly after closing the door, you saw one of the men walking out of the house, a gas can in hand. Putting a cigarette through the mouth slit of his mask, he took out his lighter and lit it, then throwing it into the trail of gas. The house was quickly engulfed in flames. You watched in horror, unable to process what had happened so quickly. All the men jumped in the van and began to drive away. Before they forced your head down, you caught a glimpse of what looked like Batman, standing on the roof of a nearby building, watching as the van drove off. As time went on, you would come to hate Batman for not doing anything to save you or your friends.

The events that followed were all a blur, but from what you could remember you had been taken to an underground facility and forced to ingest a disgusting substance through a tube in your nose that burned the inside of your entire body. You would later come to understand that it was a mixture of unknown chemicals that changed the genetic makeup of anyone it came into contact with. Over the next few days, you were locked in a dark holding cell. All you could remember was the way your insides felt. It was painful for the first couple of hours, but then it turned into something indescribable; something surreal. When you looked over your body, you didn’t notice any change, but you knew something was different. You could feel a change in your being. You noticed you were more flexible; as you found comfort the next few days in putting yourself in strange positions that you couldn’t do before. One of your favorites had been doing the splits on the floor and bending backwards, much like a ballerina (arms in the air and toes pointed and all). There were also strange times when you would enter a state of extreme euphoria; everything felt amazing and you would barely be able to stand from your trance of pure bliss. Your eyes would roll to the back of your head as you laid on the ground, rolling around in ecstasy. However, deep anxiety began to become a part of your everyday life, and using your power was the only way to escape it.

A few days later they took you out of the cell. You learned that they had kidnapped many other women and forced them to take the same substance. The mafia group wanted to create human weapons with abilities that would help them on jobs. After many tests and experiments, they were unhappy to learn that you had developed the least useful ability out of the group. You had the ability to bring others into a state of euphoria through touch. They had no idea how your power developed, as they came to the conclusion that something in your personality most likely triggered it. You had no idea what it could have been, but you didn’t mind not knowing. You could use your power to escape reality for all just a few moments of pure bliss, you could escape the hell that you had been plunged into. The mafia put you to work as an escort, pairing you up with very important business men and putting them into your euphoria to get information out of them. The leader of the mafia also took a liking to you, or more so your ability. He would make you come to his hotel room at night and use your ability on him while you were forced to perform sexual acts on him.

The world had turned into a grey, dull hell for you, and there seemed to be no way to escape it.

“Be ready, we’re almost there.” The driver said, pulling you out of your thoughts. Tonight’s job was at a club in the heart of Gotham, one you had never heard of before. The man you were escorting was an arms dealer who was expected of ripping off millions from your boss. Your mission: cozying up to the target enough to get him alone and then extract information from him. It was nothing new.

You heard your phone buzz in your clutch and took it out to read the text message. It was from the boss, it read: “Don’t fuck this up, the target is important. Hurry back too, what you’re wearing tonight makes my cock hard.” You cringe at the thought of him hard, thinking about it almost makes you sick. You put your phone back into the clutch and took out a compact to inspect yourself. Your makeup was perfect; a donned a dark-brown smokey eye with heavy lashes, a nice contour, and nude lips. Your hair was pulled up into a messy bun with curly strands hanging down. You wore a sleeved black lace dress that barely went past your rear and a plunging neckline that exposed most of your breasts. Black stilettos adorned your feet. To others you probably looked stunning, but the only thing you could see was the lifeless eyes looking right into you from your reflection.

As the car came to a halt, you put your compact away and stepped out of the car. On the outside, it seemed like a dive with huge bouncers guarding the door. For a moment, you felt you might be overdressed. They took one look at you and without question let you step through. Once inside, your eyes shot open. Everything seemed so expensive; gold everywhere, crystals and beads hanging from the ceiling, gold stripper poles and cages where almost naked girls danced to the loud music. The people inside were dressed just as nice as you, if not better.

Feeling a bit overwhelmed, you went to go sit down at the bar. You were surprised to see the bartender wearing a batman mask and a suit. “Cosmopolitan” You ordered. While he went to prepare your drink, you looked around. It was such a big club with so many people, you didn’t know how you were going to find your target. While you waited you tried to look around to scope him out. You noticed a dancer on stage was attracting a lot of attention but you couldn’t see past all of the people. He brought you your drink but when you opened your clutch to pay he stopped you. “It’s already paid for.”

“By who?” You asked. He pointed to a VIP area towards the back near the stage. Deciding it was only polite to go and thank your patron, you head towards the area. Before you could enter, you were stopped by what seemed to be body guards.

“She’s with me.” You heard a voice call from inside. The guards stepped to the side and watched as you walked inside. It was much quieter in the VIP area, but was even more lavish than the rest of the club. When you saw who was sitting on the couches, you froze. One was definitely your target, and you assumed the one who had sent you the drink based on the way he was motioning you to come forward. He wasn’t the reason you were frozen in your tracks, though. Sitting across from him was a man in a purple and gold suit with gold chains and pale white, tattooed skin and dark green hair. His lips were red and his eyes were deep set and piercing. It was the Joker, no doubt about it. You had heard stories about him and had seen the things he was capable of, but you had never laid eyes on him. He was infamous and terrifying, yet here he was sitting right in front of you, staring right through you with his sharp eyes.

“Come here baby,” The target motioned for his lap “I hope you’re liking your drink.” Having trouble escaping the Joker’s gaze, you slowly make your way over to the man. He was very tall with short brown hair and matching beard. He wore a dark red suit and was covered in gold chains and watches. He had an aura of annoying cockiness about him.

“I thought it’d be rude not to thank the generous person who buys a woman all alone at this huge club a drink.” You said playfully, sitting on his lap and wrapping your arm around his shoulder.

“You? Alone? How can that be?” He asked, cupping his hand around your ass.

“I don’t have many friends,” You answered, looking over at the Joker. He was still looking straight at you, resting his hands-on top of his cane. He reminded you of a hunter eyeing his prey.

“You must play too rough.” He said as he put his mouth to your neck, breathing in your scent.

“You could say that.” For some reason, you couldn’t take your eyes off of his. It was like his eyes locked you into place. You didn’t know what you were feeling, but you knew you didn’t like it.

“What’s your name?” The target asked

“Y/N.” You answered breathlessly

“A sexy name for a sexy woman.” He slapped your ass, bringing you out of your trance. You faked a laugh. Then, a man walked into the area, he wore a black suit and had neatly trimmed brown hair and beard. He stepped right over to the Joker, seemingly oblivious to the powerful aura he omitted. He placed a large briefcase on the table in front of him.

“The money you requested, Boss.” He said, sitting down on a couch beside him.

Suddenly, the Joker broke out of his intense stare and flashed his silver teeth in a huge grin. “Ah yes, thank you Frosty.”

“Is that the amount we discussed?” Your target asked

The Joker put on a fake pout. “What, you don’t believe that I’m a man of my word?”

“I believe you, but I don’t think it would hurt to check.”

The Joker smiled, opening the case revealing a cash amount you probably couldn’t even fathom. “See, it’s all here.”

Your target smiled, “I just wanted to check, no harm in that. I want to thank you, Joker. You can be a crazy man, but we work well together.”

“Crazy…” The Joker replied, standing up “I’d see it as more of setting a unique workplace atmosphere.” He laughed, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. The whistling and hollering of the crowd caught your attention, and you could clearly see who was on stage now. It was the infamous Harley Quinn, dancing in an all gold dress on the pole. You had never met her before either, but you heard the stories, and you heard about her recent breakout from wherever she had been locked up. Anxiety began to flow into you as you realized just what kind of dangerous situation you had been placed in.

The Joker whistled towards Harley, and as if she had been programmed to do so, she immediately came running over. She hopped over the small wall separating the VIP and stage. “Puddin, did you see me dance?” Harley cooed, jumping into the Joker and wrapping her arms around him.

“I couldn’t take my eyes off you.” The Joker growled “Let’s go home, Daddy’s finished his work.”

“Oh Puddin, you sure know how to talk to a lady.” She laughed, biting her teeth in front of his face.

Just as they were about to leave, your target opened his mouth. “He’s right, I couldn’t take my eyes off you.” You had never been in the presence of the Joker and Harley before, but you knew how stupid he had been for opening his mouth. The Joker looked at him, his expression blank. Harley stepped to the side, smiling.

He turned to Harley, “See doll face, you had everyone’s attention!” Harley laughed along with him. You felt the tension in the air that your target was too ignorant to notice. You knew that you had a job to do tonight, and you needed to get information out of him, or you could be the one getting killed tonight. In a bold move, you placed your hand on your targets cheek, bringing his attention to you.

“What do you say we get to know each other a little better? Maybe go upstairs?”

He grabbed your ass tightly “Sounds good to me.” The two of you stood up, and you almost walked out without making any eye contact with the Joker, but before you could make it out the door, he spoke again.

“Wait, Harley” he said, grabbing onto her hand and leading her towards the two of you. “I want you to go with them.”

You gulped, watching the two saunter over. “Joker?” Your target asked

“Consider it a gift,” he replied, “for being such a loyal business partner.”

Your target looked Harley up and down, then smiled. “Well, if you insist.” Harley laughed and clung onto the man’s arm. As the three of you walked out of the VIP area, you couldn’t help but look back at the Joker. He was breathing heavily, a hungry look in his eyes as he watched you walk out.

You didn’t know what these two were up to, and you didn’t think you wanted to find out.

842 notes · View notes

yuri-or-death · 7 years

Text

Spellbound: Chapter 01

Main Characters : Matsui Jurina, Miyawaki Sakura

Pairings: JuriSaku, WMatsui, JuriMomo (and more).

Summary : Matsui Jurina is the immovable ace of St. Hildegard’s School of Magic. Considered a protégé by many Wizard Saints, her technique and mastery is second to none. Enter Miyawaki Sakura, talentless, unrefined and socially awkward. Her golden ticket for admission into the elite school is her late father’s legacy.

What happens when Sakura suddenly gets transferred to the Special Class because of a lottery? Will the mysterious ace take interest? (Magic School AU)

CHAPTER: 01, 02, 03, 04

*~*~*

“I am the fiery life of the essence of God;

I am the flame above the beauty in the fields;

I shine in the waters;

I burn in the sun, the moon, and the stars.

And with the airy wind,

I quicken all things vitally by an unseen, all-sustaining life.”

– St. Hildegard of Bingen

A pristine white building stood in all its glory; the tall walls shimmered like the purest of snow. One would expect no less from the country’s top academic institution specializing in magic and arcane arts. The signage “St. Hildegard’s Academy” elegantly welded on the gates gleamed as the influx of students decked in white blazers and dark grey skirts came in like a wave.

Cherry blossoms fluttered as the wind blew, a rain of pink and white petals fell to the earth. Such fragile beauty was breathtaking yet as fleeting as dew drops in the morning.

Miyawaki Sakura, a girl of average height, small build and short brown hair stood before the main gate of the two-hectare campus. There was an air of uncertainty surrounding her as she fumbled with her acceptance letter. Her gaze was fixed on the marble sculpture of the school’s patron saint set at the middle of the 4-way intersection leading to the main building. The tide of people passing her by did not seem to bother her at all.

The letter in Sakura’s grasp was visibly wrinkled. She took a deep breath before her legs started to move forward.

‘Father, mother in heaven…I know I don’t deserve to be here but please watch over me from here on out.’

Sakura’s thoughts were interrupted when a figure cloaked in deep purple stopped her in her tracks just merely 5 steps from the gate. She recognized the uniform under the cloak through the gaps on the chest area. Without a doubt, the person in front of her was a student of this school. However, what she wanted from Sakura remains to be seen.

“Umm, sorry…coming through.” Sakura politely excused herself but before she could take another step the stranger held her by the wrist, rooting her in place.

“Ah! I see it.” The unknown voice muttered in a smooth tone; her nose and lips were the only visible features of her face and yet Sakura could undoubtedly feel a radiant glow coming from her. The stranger pulled something out of the cloak, revealing elaborately decorated tarot cards facing Sakura.

“The Chariot, the Wheel of Fortune and the Devil. Quite the powerful cards you have here.” The nameless girl droned on as she examined Sakura and then the cards intently. “Renewal after destruction; your destiny unravels before you and yet desire ultimately chains your soul. But don’t worry, it seems luck is on your side today.”

“W-what?” Sakura blurted out quizzically, she was not prepared for free fortune readings on her first day. It was quite bizarre to be cracked open by a seer—if this person was indeed gifted—at the first meeting without even giving a name or personal circumstance.

“I think you’ll meet her.” The words seemed to flow with inevitable accuracy, far from the abrupt conjecture it seemed to be. Sakura could not understand the wave of longing that suddenly washed over her for this someone, this “her” she had not even met.

“Her?”

“Yes, her. Isn’t it exciting?” Sakura saw her companion grin despite the stranger’s obscured face and yet in spite of it all she was still completely clueless.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“If you follow the path of the roses, you’ll certainly meet her!” The stranger repeated, spinning Sakura so that she was now facing the main building. “Your true north.” It almost felt like the stranger’s words were alive, silently creeping into the recess of Sakura’s soul like a waking breath; warm and fuzzy, and yearning.

“But—” Sakura was caught off guard once she looked back; the cloaked figure had vanished into wisps of smoke. Teleportation without a single incantation or summoning circle was some high-level magic; aside from being clairvoyant, just who was that girl?

Sakura sighed, at the back of her mind she wondered if all students of magic in this school were so capricious in using their abilities. Or perhaps was she jealous that she lacked the talent to use magic as effortlessly? She decided that there was no point in fussing over it now, not embarrassing her self with her innate awkwardness was actually more pressing.

“Sakura, there you are.” A tap on her shoulder anchored her back to reality.

“Haruka, I was wondering when you’d pop up.”

“How rude, Saku-chan.” Sakura’s friend from middle school, Kodama Haruka, frowned. “That’s not the way to greet people.” She adjusted the frame of her circular glasses.

Sakura shrugged and changed topic after noticing the fleur-de-lis badge on Haruka’s collar “Why do you have to be so smart and get into the Special Class? Who will I talk to now?” She quasi-lamented her friend’s acceptance into the school’s special program for gifted students but felt extremely proud nonetheless.

“It’s just the first day, please try to make friends Saku-chan.” At Haruka’s words, Sakura breathed in heavily, choosing not to respond as they made their way to the main building.

*~*~*

The white curtains stirred with the breeze. A tall blonde girl in her silken night robe peered from the window. Her long golden locks glistened in sunlight, framing her porcelain face with soft waves. Her facial features were refined, deep amber eyes, a high nose bridge and thin lips. Matsui Jurina, heiress of the country’s most influential Magi bloodline, stood in all her splendor.

Her gaze was calculating as she watched the students scurry about on their way to the opening ceremony. Her on-campus dorm room gave her the perfect view.

“Jurina,” A voice came from the doorway, the new comer’s attention was focused on the blonde’s lack of proper clothing. “Skipping the opening ceremony again? Don’t you want to see the fresh fresh ladies~?”A mischievous laugh resounded in the room.

Long slender fingers pulled the curtains close. “It’s the same every year.” The blonde’s voice was deep and weary, but still hypnotic. She turned to the person responsible for breaking her reverie. “You could’ve knocked, Momo.”

Standing at the doorway was a girl whose age was not far from hers. This “Momo” had short platinum white hair and was decked in all black from head-to-toe; there was no mistaking that she was a bodyguard of some sort.

“And pass up the opportunity to see you just in a robe? Not a chance.” Kinoshita Momoka smirked; there was a distinct air of familiarity between the two blondes despite the noticeable difference in their ranks. Momoka was Jurina’s security detail, but more than that she was an old friend.

Without a word, a sudden surge of black fire covered Momoka’s left hand, startling her as she belatedly casted a curia spell. “What the hell, J!”

“You’re a hopeless pervert.” Jurina hissed but continued to undress in spite of it. For her, being naked around each other seemed to have lost its effect. She meticulously donned her school attire, sequestering the clothing laid out on the bed.

Notwithstanding her earlier teasing, Momoka’s cheeks flushed at the sight of the other girl’s body. No matter how many times Jurina stripped in front of her, Momoka would feel flustered. “Stop being such a Mary Sue, damn it.” She sounded exasperated. Why must Matsui Jurina be so infallible? Beauty, wealth, power. Momoka always thought it was preposterous.

“I’ll be late, go on ahead.” Jurina’s voice remained ever so calm.

Despite being a servant of the Matsui household, Momoka was a student of the academy as well. They were both in the same class, in the same dorm—inseparable from the moment they were born.

“The hell are you spouting? I’m the knight in shining armor here, the one actually duty-bound to protect you.”

“You can start by actually obeying orders.”

“Then maybe I should start calling you my lady?” Momoka quipped.

Jurina’s eyebrow slightly rose; she flicked a finger and in an instant, Momoka was pushed out of the room by an unseen force. The door locked on its own accord leaving the short-haired girl pounding on the wooden slab. “Ugh, you really need to work on that temper, J.”

Jurina did not respond to the taunting.

The thumping against the door died down; there was pregnant silence before Momoka carefully spoke her next words. “Matsui Rena from the branch faction will return next week, the main family wants you to make the arrangements.”

“Understood.” Jurina bit her lip; there was an overwhelming need to steel her emotions.

Momoka sulked, knowing deep within her core that despite Jurina’s mechanical response, there was a void, a dark chasm like the blackest of nights that could not be filled. Matsui Rena was like a knife, perpetually piercing what was left of Jurina’s heart. And Jurina? Jurina was a willing slave to the past.

*~*~*

The Headmaster’s office was adorned with intricate rosewood furniture and crystal ornaments. There was a bookshelf of ancient spells and classical literature on the left of the mahogany executive desk, on the right were elaborate bottles, vials of potions, elixirs and preserved magical insects, mostly winged. The wall in front of the desk was decorated with ancient maps and scrolls that would probably be more expensive than Sakura’s whole inheritance.

Sakura thought it felt more like a museum than an office. The scent that filled the air was that of sandalwood and old books. Beside the Executive chair was a wooden trunk, perched upon it was a large, majestic hawk. Its dark eyes were like bottomless pits waiting to devour her.

‘Headmaster Akimoto Yasushi’ was the name engraved on the golden plaque atop the desk. Despite the numerous trinkets in his office that could probably be considered natural treasures, the headmaster was a legend by his own right in the wizarding world. After all, he was one of the 10 remaining enchantment engineers in existence.

“Your father was a very close friend of mine.” The Headmaster’s monotonous voice could be mistaken as devoid of emotion despite his sincerity. “No, he was more like a brother.”

“Thank you for having me.” Sakura was aware how much her surname weighed in on the fact of her acceptance to this school. Her late father, like the Headmaster, was a renowned engineer. In fact, he was the lead proponent in the development of aura-synthesized weaponry compatible with non-magical personnel.

The Headmaster adjusted his glasses, searching Sakura, scrutinizing; peeling off every layer of her being like the hawk beside him. “Under normal circumstances, I would not permit your admission to this institution. It has been a long time since I saw a candidate…so hopelessly lacking in the practical arts.” The Headmaster went on to point out the dismal grades Sakura had during the entrance exam. “You have no affinity to any element whatsoever, and could not even properly perform stationary levitation.”

Sakura internally cringed at the sharp blows to her ego but could not argue against the truth of it.

“But you are a bloodline of the Miyawaki, a legacy. And for that, I will give you but one chance to prove your worth.”

“I am deeply honored and thankful.” Sakura bowed severely, struggling with the formal words and etiquette she scarcely learned. Despite coming from a famed magi family, she was raised as a commoner, several leagues behind the nobility of other students in the Academy.

“Make no mistake, this is not out of fondness but mercy.”

Sakura sustained her bow, the cold words rang through her like a torrential rain.

*~*~*

“My child, remember that without knowing the force of words, it is impossible to know more.”

While growing up, Sakura’s father taught her that words had immense power. As a mage, it was used to reinforce a spell’s effect; as a person it was used to form bonds with others. Spells that were invoked out loud could obliterate the opponent more efficiently—the devastation multiplies tenfold, but words that are haphazardly said could destroy as much.

“It’s the Miyawaki girl, the daughter of Silver.”

“I heard she was so bad at spell casting, they didn’t even let her finish the test.”

“Why is she even enrolled if she’s useless?”

“The Headmaster’s friends with her father, definitely undue favor.”

During the opening ceremony at the auditorium, Miyawaki Sakura was ostracized for her worth, or lack thereof. Girls were gossiping around her as if she couldn’t hear them. Like the Headmaster’s assertions earlier, she couldn’t dispute these allegations. She was talentless, she was a failure, and she got in because of special treatment.

Last night Sakura was thinking of finally making friends on her first day in high school, maybe even opening up over karaoke, maybe having sleepovers and study dates with classmates. Maybe it was time for her to break out of her introverted shell.

Slowly, as the day drawled out to a close, those “maybes” turned into “nevers” in her mind. She stood in front of the cafeteria, holding an empty tray, her appetite long gone.

“Good afternoon, if you need anything please don’t hesitate to approach me.” A girl with shoulder length hair greeted her warmly, Sakura recognized her as the Student Council President who spoke during the ceremony this morning. “Yokoyama Yui,” she introduced herself, a maternal glow about her.

“Miyawaki Sakura.” Sakura shook her hand. The President’s genuineness was a breath of fresh air from a whole day’s worth of oppressive gossiping concerning the circumstances of her enrollment.

“Don’t take it to heart.” Yui coaxed, knowing full well the rumors that were circulating. The freshman muttered her thanks and both girls went separate ways when other officers of the Student Council called Yui.

Sakura was left alone yet again; she resolved to spend her remaining free time in the courtyard at the back of the main building. “Loneliness, my dear friend.” She whispered beneath her breath, stretching out her arms with a yawn. The school grounds were wide and unexplored; it was a beautiful afternoon to get lost in the archaic scenery of St. Hildegard Academy. She noticed a lone structure some miles ahead and decided to pursue it.

She made her way to an old solarium, far from the main building, she noted that it was a site deliberately left out from the campus map they were given during freshmen orientation. The old glasshouse piqued Sakura’s interest, her mother was an alumna of St. Hildegard and she could recognize the dilapidated structure from the stories.

The old solarium had it’s own kind of untamed and vibrant beauty. The glass roof was shattered on certain places that allowed vines, wild flowers and other greeneries to creep out from the gaps. Flowers and plants alike flourished in disordered coalescence, amid a cage that could not contain them. As she entered the glass house Sakura felt that it was more authentic than any other thing or person in this whole school. She could lose herself in this for hours.

“St. Hildegard loved nature.” Sakura jolted in surprise. “That’s why we mages feel an affinity to her because of her union with the elements.” The leveled voice from behind was reminiscent of the embrace of cold silk.

A blonde girl held open the door of the solarium, whether she was displeased to see a new face encroaching upon her self-proclaimed jurisdiction, she did not let it show. “I’ve never seen you before.”

“Sorry for intruding, I just enrolled here.”

“It’s fine, I don’t mean to keep the flowers to myself.” The blonde came forward, her hair bounced ever so lightly in accord with her lithe movements. “I’m…”

“You’re Matsui Jurina.” Sakura answered for her, there was no way to not know. Every movement the other girl made felt calculated to perfection. She never expected to meet St. Hildegard’s renowned ace in such a casual encounter.

“I’m flattered you know of me.” A scant smile graced Jurina’s lips yet her eyes remained somber. She waived her hand and a cold mist followed by droplets of water drizzled over the flowers. Like the cloaked stranger from this morning, there was no invocation or summoning circle used, it only served to confirm the ace’s magical proficiency. “Do you like the roses?” Jurina asked without expecting anything.

Sakura was unsure how to interact; she lowered her gaze to avoid eye contact. “They’re wonderful.” Her mind could scarcely process the fact that the most prominent girl in school was talking to her instead of making fun of her.

Jurina sensed the freshman’s hesitation so she led on the conversation. She thought that for this young girl to come here in this abandoned place, surely she needed a breather. “I come here everyday to tend to the roses, they’re very fragile and needy compared to the wild flowers.” The setting sun dyed the skies a reddish color. Under the soft hues of dusk, Jurina’s countenance grew more enthralling.

An inexplicable pull of gravity enveloped Sakura as she observed the older girl. “Are the roses your favorite?”

“No.”

Sakura looked at her with a perplexed expression.

“I’m here because they need me.” It sounded more like someone chained to an obligation or duty or even debt. “I like hydrangeas more.” Jurina continued, pointing at the shrubs at the side of the glass house. There were no flowers visible yet. “They bloom in the rain.”

Sakura found it rather poetic, or mysterious…or whatever beautiful adjective there was to describe Matsui Jurina. “I see.” She would not dare to say all those things out loud.

“Your name?” The ace prompted, holding out her hand politely.

Sakura reached for it, “Miyawaki Sakura.”

As their fingers brushed scorching pain shot through Jurina’s spine like a lightning bolt. The ace recoiled as if her hand had just been set ablaze. Jurina’s mind plunged into chaos, her senses heightened with sensitivity.

Sakura attempted to support Jurina as she fought to regain her balance but the blonde resisted her advances. “I’m sorry… w-what just…?” A tidal wave of panic and terror filled the young girl.

“It’s fine.” Jurina tried to reassure the freshman as she recollected herself. She was completely repulsed by her own display of vulnerability. By now the sun had completely set and a blanket of shadows enveloped them.

In the next heartbeat, enchanted water lilies floating on the pond a few feet from both girls emitted light as they transfigured into transparent, iridescent flowers. Small specks of light floated from the petals and flooded the solarium like fireflies.

Jurina’s eyes were glazed from the frail lights that surrounded them. It was the most beautiful thing Sakura had ever seen. Sakura realized why the blonde girl frequented this place but she could not appreciate the scenery’s brilliance entirely.

Sakura noticed a stigmata appearing on Jurina’s wrist—the same hand she had touched was unblemished before. A snake eating its tail forming an infinity mark was seared on the ace’s skin. She knew what it was called in ancient writings: ‘Ouroboros’, the devourer, the great serpent, the beginning and the end. “That mark,” Sakura muttered not fully grasping what it meant.

Jurina snatched her hand away from the young girl’s sight. Her tone grew stern and forewarning, “It’s getting late, you should leave.”

“Did I hurt you? Was it because of me?” Sakura grew frantic; she could barely hazard a step closer before a rapier stopped her frozen.

“Move back, little girl.” Kinoshita Momoka, The Knight, growled from behind Jurina, The tip of her sword dancing just beneath Sakura’s chin. Momoka held the ace by the shoulder protectively, pressing Jurina’s body toward her own.

“Withdraw, Momoka. She did nothing to cause alarm.” Jurina commanded, the chill in her voice leaked with authority.

Momoka’s blade remained where it was until Jurina swiped it by the hand herself. “I’m sorry for frightening you. School has ended, it’s best for you to report to the dormitory on your first night.”

Sakura wasn’t entirely sure what to make of this encounter, but it was clear to her that there was no room for protest. Wordlessly, she nodded and took her leave.

“Lumina” Momoka invoked a spark spell. Despite their problematic first meeting, she was a dutiful senior, all else equal. A trail of light followed Sakura in her departure. Jurina watched the freshman disappear into the darkness.

“Show me your hand.” Momoka grabbed Jurina by her fingers before the ace could even respond. The stigmata on her wrist that emerged earlier had completely disappeared. The bodyguard’s probing gaze did not leave Jurina. “You wavered.” It was more of a statement than a question.

“Perhaps it was a dissonance between our auras, I forgot to switch my limiter.” Jurina refused to meet her friend’s piercing eyes.

“I’m sure little lassie didn’t understand a shit about activating her aura, there was no astral force surrounding her at all.” You should’ve felt that. Momoka was so tempted to add, she clearly saw beyond Jurina’s misrepresentation.

“And you never switch off your limiter.”

“Let it go, Momo. It is what it is.”

*~*~*

The dormitory rooms were modest but very sophisticated. The oil paintings, curtains and bed drapes reminded Sakura of the renaissance period. Her father ingrained in her the motto ‘simplicity of lifestyle’ and for the first time in her life she felt like a princess.

While she lay in bed, she thought of the events the whole day. The moments replayed in her head like a camera reel. For the most part, she wanted to erase the bitterness festering in her chest because of her classmates’ attempt to isolate her. However, the encounter with Matsui Jurina felt most surreal. St. Hildegard’s ace was beautiful and regal, but also quite aloof.

Sakura lifted her hand in front of her face, studying the fingertips that touched the blonde ace. Sakura felt some surge of power flow through her after their brief contact. It felt warm and invigorating, although she could not stop worrying over Jurina’s pained expression. Had she hurt her? What was that mark? Did Jurina or her companion hate Sakura now?

She grabbed her mobile and keyed in a message for Haruka.

I didn’t see you all day! (TдT)

– Saku-chan

Sorry! I was so busy! (⋟﹏⋞)

How did your first day go? (◕‿◕✿)

– Haruppi

Sucks. ┐(´д`)┌

Everyone hates me.

Save meeeee

（◞‸◟）

– Saku-chan

Who hates you? (#｀皿´)

(╯°▽°)╯ ┻━┻

I’ll hex them!!

– Haruppi

A knock on the door caught Sakura’s attention. She gave permission to enter.

Sakura was stunned to see the cloaked stranger from this morning standing at the doorway although this time the hood obscuring her face was down. She had short brown hair, an attractive face with a boyish aura.

“Good evening newbie! It’s my shift as prefect of the dorms tonight.” She grinned while handing out an envelope with the Headmaster’s dry seal. “I was tasked by the Headmaster to deliver this correspondence to you. Okada Nana, at your service!” The prefect bowed like a hotel staff.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Miyawaki Sakura.” Sakura received the letter.

“Call me Naa-chan. So was my tarot reading correct? Did you meet her?” Sakura couldn’t believe that Nana still possessed the same exuberance from this morning.

“I met a lot of new people, honestly.”

“But I never miss! You probably met someone interesting.” Nana folded her arms on her chest contemplatively then sighed. “Either way, you should rest. And don’t break the curfew!”

The two girls said their pleasantries before Nana left for her 2 nd patrol.

Sakura sat in front of her study desk as she opened the letter.

Greetings Miyawaki Sakura,

You have been chosen for the zero position through the annual lottery. Tomorrow henceforth, you are registered as a member of St. Hildegard Academy’s Special Program.

Do keep in mind the gravity of your situation. Should the Board find your performance unsatisfactory, an expulsion would be proper.

Earnestly,

The Board of Regents

“Eeeeeeeh?!!!!!” Sakura could not help but feel as if fate was playing her. Everyone in this prissy school probably knew how bad she was at spell casting and yet here she is, propelled at the center of the most elite class in the Academy. This ‘lottery’ was more likely a farce. She was almost sure the Headmaster and his Board just signed her death sentence. Throw the weakest link to the sharks; it was all too convenient to have her debarred by her own lack of merit.

Her fists banged the wooden table, her eyes burned with determination. She could take the gossips, some bullying and the near death experience by the sword of a person she knew not the name; but this was the last straw.

Miyawaki Sakura would not go down without a fight.

“Father and mother in heaven, I will not fail.”

*~*~*

The ghastly moon shone an unearthly glow; light seeped in from the window of the dark room.

Matsui Jurina tossed and turned in her robe, shackled by the dregs of a nightmare, one too many. There was no solace in her sleep.

Lingering in her dreams was a girl she could not save, drowning in dark murky waters. Jurina cries out a thousand times—willing herself to move yet entirely in vain. The girl dies in every version, in every altered universe.

All that’s left is the void: cold, vast and unforgiving. Then in the abyss, the eyes of the great serpent open, glistening like hellfire.

The routine is unbroken; Jurina wakes—sweating, breathless and spent.

When the dreams are too vivid, just like tonight, Momoka enters the room in haste. After switching on the lights she strokes Jurina’s hair to calm her, not a word is spoken.

*~*~*

Author’s notes:

1. This includes WMatsui because I miss them. TT____TT

2. Harrupi is not in love with Sakura. It will not be the “friendzone plot”.

3. How about a bit of Jurina x Momoka? Because… they’re both gay as hell?! And because I’m Sapphic AF.

4. This is originally an OS…but I’m falling in love with the universe. I will continue depending on feedback and/or if people are interested.

#matsui jurina #miyawaki sakura #jurisaku #matsui rena #kinoshita momoka #yokoyama yui #okada nana #kodama haruka #spellbound #magic school au #fanfiction #akb48 #ske48 #hkt48 #nmb48

70 notes · View notes