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#yes this is the one thing i took away from this series
sequinsnstars · 1 day
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˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ fresh page, on the desk ݁˖ ⊹ ‧₊˚
JASON GRACE .ᐟ
ingredients; mason grace and cupcakes
fyi; gn reader who is roman but has no specified godly parent, timeline is messy but wtv, cursing, i reference media i like bc i’m self indulgent, silly little 4th wall breaking
notes; first fic hii, lmk ur thoughts! probably a series 👀 big thank u to all my fave pjo writers/moots for inspiring this 🫶🏽 @hopelesslyromanticshark @jgracie @cinemaconrad
wc; 1.7k
food mood; classic vanilla cupcakes. perhaps with a light chocolate frosting.
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Cyclops Books was your safe haven.
After a long day of excessive criticism during training, it was the perfect place to allow yourself to relax your posture, if only a little bit. You loved your friends, yes, but sometimes you just needed a little break from it all. The entirety of New Rome was your third place. The somehow always-green grass and thriving flowers, the curved cobblestone streets leading to homes filled with laughter and warmth, the lingering scents of the bakery’s famous freshly-baked chocolate chip cookies – you could go on. Even Terminus couldn’t stop you from coming here as much as you were able to.
So why was it so off today?
As you took your usual evening stroll before dinner, you noticed that almost all the homes and shops had their bright white porch lights on and the usual soft, yellowed string ones were put away. Not to mention the lack of New Rome Elementary kids playing outside after school, or the fact that the usual cozy atmosphere felt tight and formal: the exact thing you tried to get away from by coming here. It even felt like the sunset sky was trying its best to remain a single organized color rather than its usual gorgeous, messy, watercolor-like self.
You tried not to think about it much as you entered your favorite bookstore. Your bookstore. It had been ever since your first visit years ago. It had taken a while to grow accustomed to camp. During the New Rome field trip for fresh campers, something about it drew you in. The warm hanging lights and the stacked bookshelves reminded you of a shop in one of the many cities you’d lived in. That one had always been your favorite. Tyson and Ella had welcomed you strongly that day, cheering, “New campers! New campers!” and shoving slightly burnt croissants in your face. After seeing all your favorite mortal books for sale, you decided it would be the first of many times you entered the place. It wasn’t long before you striked up a friendship with the two owners – they were some of your favorite people to see, plus, they let you pick out their store music!
(As of late, you’d mostly been playing the new Taylor Swift album.)
You opened the door, greeted with the familiar out-of-tune entry bells. Ella was curled up in her cardboard box, sleeping, but she peeked out when she saw you.
“Hello!” Her eyes lit up.
You smiled. “It’s nice to see you too, Ella.” According to what Percy had said about his first quest with Hazel and Frank, Ella was a lot more content now that she was with Tyson. You were truly happy for the couple, they had been nothing but sweet to you and they deserved all the good things coming to them.
She yawned and murmured, “Big event today. Tyse preparing in back. Back, back, back… Back to December. Taylor Swift. Speak Now. Now, now, now…” and promptly dozed off again. You let her sleep, heading to the romance section to hopefully find the new Emily Henry book. Still, you couldn’t shake the thought out of your mind. 
You entered the next aisle, thankfully getting your hands on the last copy of Funny Story. You took another quick walk through the areas you normally shopped from, since the store almost always had copies of books before they were officially released. It was unclear how Tyson and Ella managed to do this, but you suspected it had something to do with all the excess time a certain son of Vulcan–sorry, Hephaestus–had been spending on his computer, finding passcodes for mysterious files.
Not that you were complaining.
You walked a little faster to the R section when you spotted Love of the Gods!, a packed adventure about three mortals, Peter, Annie, and Grant, stumbling upon an entrance to the Underworld at a Halloween party and pet sitting the three-headed dog, Cerebrus. Silently, you thanked Leo for saving you from the four months of wait time for the official release.
Heading to checkout, you picked up a few new annotation tabs and cute pens for when you started reading your new books. You peeked over the counter to see if Tyson had come back – you really were curious about what was happening today. You were about to head into the staff-only back room (perks of being friends with the owners) until you saw a rose-adorned china bowl filled with cupcake batter just by the door.
Ella’s birthday was approaching fast, so you remembered that Tyson was preparing. He’d told you that he was going to make some sweet treats in advance, as well as plan to surprise her with Eras Tour tickets and ask Taylor to play The Alchemy and You Are In Love as the acoustic set.
You were so not jealous that Leo and the couple had gotten to attend a listening party for The Tortured Poets Department as a thank you for that one time they went on a quest to retrieve an enchanted scarf from the monster James Gyllenborg. Who said that?
You were focused on the food in front of you, but if you’d looked up to see who walked in when you heard the door bells chime, you might have avoided the fiasco about to happen.
Your books were tucked under your arm so you could help Tyson out a little and start pouring the batter into cute heart-shaped molds. You filled two cups and were getting ready to start a third when someone shoved your back, hard. The two novels you were about to purchase fell into the batter bowl, now completely soaked. Your jaw dropped.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” mumbled a voice from behind you.
“Watch where you’re going,” you hissed. If it was another one of those annoying New Rome boys, you swore you were going to–
You turned around and saw a blonde boy wearing a black vintage varsity jacket, blue jeans, and a pair of Chuck Taylors. You would have brushed the matter aside and treated him like anyone else if you hadn’t seen the Imperial gold glasses, the scar on his lip, and that pair of electric blue eyes.
The same ones half the camp fawned over.
Holy Tartarus.
“Praetor Grace,” you said.
Jason tensed at the name. “Uh, yeah. That’s me.”
There was a bit of awkward silence, then he continued. “Every few months, either Reyna or I come here with the intention of doing shop inspections. Council work. Normally, we go in and introduce ourselves, but usually when I come here… is his name Tyson?”
“Tyson,” you agreed, still reeling from the shock.
“Yes. Him. He gets stressed out when I say I’m praetor, so I dressed a little differently this time, to say the least. I only hope he doesn’t know my face well enough to recognize me.”
So that was why he was out of his professional attire. Anyone who didn’t know him wouldn’t have guessed he co-led the camp. Oh gods, this must have been why New Rome was on edge today.
Jason peered over your shoulder to look at the bowl. His eyes widened when he saw the books. “Shit. Did I do that? I’m so sorry, I’ll pay–”
“No, it was an accident, it’s not your fault,” you interjected. You did not want to have to deal with the awkwardness of the praetor paying for you. Besides, Tyson didn’t mind these kinds of things too much, since you two were close.
Just then, said Cyclops walked out.
Both you and Jason rushed in front of the bowl mess. You weren’t anxious about the books – it was the batter. If Tyson found out it was ruined, he’d be devastated.
You felt queasy seeing the grin on his face. How were you going to get yourself out of this?
“Friend!” he exclaimed. “Brought another friend… a boyfriend?”
Laughing nervously, you said, “No, not my–”
Jason took your hand in his calloused yet warm one and beamed at Tyson. “That’s right. The name’s Mason. I’ve heard all about this wonderful shop!” 
What the fuck?
He looked at you, a hint of pleading in his eyes. Oh. You understood.
“Yes, he has, obviously.” You nodded hastily. “I just had to tell my loving, sweet, gorgeous boyfriend all about Cyclops Books!”
(Was it you, or did the praetor turn a little pink?)
He recovered fast, replying with, “Pfft. Says the most amazing, beautiful, and talented baker I know.” Jason moved aside to reveal what you’d been doing before he entered the store. At first, you panicked, but when you looked at the bowl and books, they were clean and separated, as if nothing had happened at all.
Tyson gasped. “Cupcakes!” He ran to clear items off the counter so he could move the setup to a better area.
“How did you do that?” You whispered out the corner of your mouth.
“Gravity acts on air. Child of Jupiter stuff and all that. I lifted the books out and transported the excess batter back into the bowl. Any remaining dust or bacteria I sent back into the atmosphere. I tried to direct it to the sewers. The cupcakes are fine.”
“Wow.” You were impressed. He’d gone that far for someone he barely even knew?
Tyson returned to pick up the baking materials and put them on the counter. He looked up with a bright expression. “Wait. Double date! Ella! Me! Mason! You! Pretty please?”
Um.
You were about to say no and tell him about getting punishment from Reyna – having to clean out Scipio’s stable for the whole week. It wasn’t a lie; you had been caught skipping out on training a few days ago. You were surprised Terminus even let you into New Rome, considering he was usually informed on who broke camp rules. But before you could respond, your new boyfriend did.
“That sounds perfect! This Friday at six? We could visit the cinema, maybe?”
Gleefully, the Cyclops clapped. “Yay! Good idea!”
“Great! It’s a date!” Jason smiled. He glanced at you, but you couldn’t read his expression. “I’ll pick you up thirty minutes early. I’ve got to go help out Cohort 5 now really quick, there’s a soldier that needs tending to. I’ll see you later?”
You stared at him for a few seconds before processing what he was asking you. “Of course. Totally. Yeah.”
He nodded and winked as he left the shop.
What just happened?
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hope you enjoyed the meal!
thank you for your order and your waitress siara hopes you come again soon 💌
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simpforpeterp · 3 days
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lucifer morningstar x oc
ONLY ANGEL
summary: A story in which the King of Hell falls in love with a fallen angel who became the most powerful overlord in Hell, the owner of millions of souls, in less than a year. (She obtained them all on accident) (Yes, she accidentally became the most powerful overlord in Hell)
warnings: no specific warnings other than the fact that it's hazbin so (hopefully?) you know what you're getting yourself into
word count: 2.7k
author's note: this is the first chapter of ten uploaded on ao3 and wattpad so far!!!! if you like this chapter please go read the rest on there or ask and i can upload more chapters on here!! :)
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Chapter 1: The Fall
no one warns you before the fall
"So," Lucifer began his voice a low murmur, placing his hand on his forehead. "Do you wanna tell me your deal? I've gone through hell and back, pun intended, to track you down."
  "Are you implying I owe you an explanation? Because if that's the case, honesty is key here, right?" She smiles.
  "I- maybe? You know what, sure. Let's run with that," He lets out a dry chuckle. "Spill it, sister. How...how did you become a fallen angel?"
  "This is stupid."
  "It's not stupid, I know that better than anyone." He tries.
  "No, no, no, I don't mean it like I'm ashamed to tell you. I mean...how it happened. I'm fully aware of how stupid this is about to sound but everything that's happened to me, how I got here and became one of the most powerful people in hell within months...it was a complete accident. A series of unforeseen accidents." She tells him, leaning back further in her chair.
  "Are you bullshitting me?"
  "No, okay, listen. I'm not gonna go at this saying I'm completely innocent. Did I sneak into Earth multiple times and do a lot of horrible things like drugs, become the lead singer in one of the biggest bands in existence, and live multiple lifetimes over the decades on Earth? Yes. But that's surprisingly not what got me kicked out. But it did get me 100 hours of heaven's version of court-mandated community service. I had to lead tours of the biggest museum in Heaven. The Museum of Other Religions."
-
  "And here on your left, you'll see a pair of horns from a real-life minotaur. This museum was built centuries ago to show amazing things from our neighbors. With the rule that you have to have at least three people to form a religion, a lot of religions have formed, a lot of them with an afterlife similar to ours. We share these skies with hundreds of others! Even...some bullshit like religions like those who follow the Sonic Bible. Yes, the Hedgehog. And that leads us to...ten golden rings." She sighs, absolutely tired of this work.
  "What's that?" A child points to a large Norse weapon.
  "That's a spear. It looks like a cane, but it's a spear. This famous weapon actually has a name. Gungir is the famous spear of Odin, the King of Asgardian Gods. Actually-" She starts before a loud noise starts next door. It's only her second month of volunteering, she's never heard anything like that.
  "What is that?" A concerned mother asks.
  "Ah...I'm not entirely sure. Everyone, please wait here, I'll go check it out." She says, awkwardly scooting away from the tour group until she reaches the door.
  The air reverberated with deafening screeches, assaulting her ears as she stumbled upon the source of the commotion. A putrid stench, like sulfur mixed with decay, took over her senses, causing bile to rise in her throat.
  The building next door has always had no name and no one was ever allowed in there except for very special people. So, entering the alley between the two buildings probably wasn't a good idea but that's where the noise was coming from.
  That's when she sees a big glowing portal. With a perfect view of hell and angels who definitely do not belong there. Angels who were doing something they shouldn't have been. She shuts the door to the alley and stumbles backwards quickly. A conveniently placed rock causes her to fall backwards, still trying to back away as the portal radiates heat.
  "Watching these stupid fucks die never gets old!" Adam laughs as he watches other angels do their killing. He steps backwards into the portal, watching proudly. That stupid son of a bitch.
  She tries her best to be quiet, not letting him hear even a breath. He sighs and begins to walk into the adjacent building before turning back around and seeing the other angel on the floor, a look of horror on her face.
  "Of course, my fucking luck. Listen here, you little bitch. What you saw? Never happened. Got it? 'Kay, thanks! Bye!" He throws a smoke bomb on the floor, filling her lungs and making her cough relentlessly.
  It leaves a hollow feeling in her chest as she tries to hit it out of her lungs with her wrist. The portal is gone when the smoke clears up. Well, mostly. The thick black smoke is slowly rising, just barely out of her face.
  "Well, well, well, what do we have here?" The head Seraphim comes out from the museum.
  "Oh, f- my group. I'll head back in n-"
  "Christy took your group. You're coming with me." Sera says coldly before leading the way to the heavenly court.
  They appear there within seconds. The room is almost empty. Just Sera, Emily, and a few others who are usually involved in the proceedings. And it's horrifying. It's a known fact, a joke in Heaven, about how the only other time this room was like this was when Lucifer fell.
  "L-look, if this is about Lute, she only hates me because I tried to tell her to stop yelling at the first graders whenever she passes by." The Angel tries to deflect.
  "I have heard much about you, Eleanor." Sera begins.
  "Really? That's- that's uh- really dedicated," She clears her throat awkwardly. "You can call me Ellie though."
  "Eleanor, we have let a lot of things slide with you. You've broken over fifty cardinal rules. We've only punished you for five. We thought your volunteer work would help you but then I find you away from your group, smoking in the alley?"
  "Woah, woah, woah, smoking? Me? I haven't smoked since the sixties!" She puts her hands up in defense before mumbling. "Cigarettes, anyway."
  The people in the room begin whispering and it's overwhelming.
  "Look, please, you've gotta believe me. I know I've messed up in the past but I can explain myself. I was with my group, okay? And then we heard this noise and I decided to go check it out and it was horrible! I saw this big portal and- and- it was to Hell!" She starts frantically explaining before everyone's faces change quickly. "Angels were there, they were killing those poor souls in hell! Adam! You were there, you saw it." She points to the man sitting.
  "Huh? Oh, yeah, I don't know what you're talking about." He shrugs.
  "What? No- but I saw it! I was there, I know it was Hell and I know they were killing sinners. They were wielding angelic weapons and- and-" She tries.
  "Enough," Sera holds her hand up and everything falls silent. "The court stands firm in this decision, you were supposed to stay with your tour group, you barely had half your hours done. This was your final warning-"
  "But it wasn't my fault! There were these loud screams and explosions and this horrible smell, I wasn't trying to be irresponsible and leave my tour group. I was trying to comfort them and let them know the noise was nothing more than something normal but I couldn't do that because apparently angels can be murderers!" Ellie raises her voice.
  "We've never allowed anything of the sort to happen. You must be making this up. But perhaps this is for the best, this was never the place for you. It was only a matter of time before we had to do this." Sera sighs.
  "Before I got kicked out? You all think I'm trouble just like everyone else here." She shakes her head, trying to step back but she can't. She's frozen.
  "Lute?" Sera calls. "Get her wings and halo, now."
-
  "But the exterminations are real, they do happen. They just- they lied to you and said you were the liar? That's...fucked up." He breathes out.
  "I learned that the hard way when I saw the big countdown on that big white tower. But I couldn't just sit around and lick my wounds. So, I got up and held onto the walls to make sure I didn't lose my balance without my wings. I was bleeding down the entire back of my shirt but I didn't want anyone to think I was dead and eat me. I had no idea where I was but then I started meeting all kinds of new people." She shrugs.
  "And so you just randomly turned evil and started taking souls?" He asks.
  "I'm not evil, dude. I'm an idiot, sure, but I'm not evil." She tries.
  "You own millions of souls by yourself. You've been here for a year."
  "Okay, this is about to look like a lie because of, again, how stupid this is. But that was also an accident."
  "Come on!" He laughs loudly, literally slapping his knee.
  "What? It was!" She manages a giggle too, leaning slightly forward.
   "I- oh, hold on. I have to call my daughter really quick, I'm not making it to this meeting. Sorry, Darlin'." He winks with a wide grin.
  "No, god bless you, baby." She smirks as he stands up, keeping his eyes on her as his smile never drops.
 
-
  Ellie breezed into the crowded bar, her presence drawing curious gazes from the denizens of Hell. With a nonchalant smile, she approached the overlord seated at the center of the room, his imposing figure exuding an aura of dominance. The demon, adorned in extravagant robes adorned with glistening jewels, regarded her with a mixture of amusement and disdain.
  By then, rumors had begun to spread about her rise to power. Her presence immediately commanded attention despite her seemingly unassuming appearance. Her light brown wavy hair cascaded over her shoulders in her white sundress. She looked utterly angelic, standing out like a sore thumb.
  "What's your deal, babe? You dealin' in souls looking like that?" The demon chuckles.
"That's usually how it goes. Usually, I say, 'If I win in a game of tic-tac-toe, I get your soul,' and then you say-" Eleanor chirped, her tone playful and carefree.
The overlord's laughter rumbled through the room, a deep and menacing sound that reverberated off the walls.
  "You? Win my soul? That's funny, little angel. But very well, indulge me," he chuckled, a wicked gleam in his eyes.
With a snap of his fingers, a makeshift tic-tac-toe grid materialized before them, the lines etched in crimson fire against the darkened backdrop of the bar. Eleanor's grin widened as she accepted the challenge, her fingers tracing the X's and O's with childish delight.
  She plays the game and everyone around can smell off of her that she has no idea the power she holds. People don't treat souls like a big deal unless you're dealing with them. How was she supposed to know if she had no friends in hell?
  As the game unfolded, Ellie approached it with the same innocence and naivety that had defined her existence thus far. Each move she made was guided by whimsy rather than strategy, her laughter filling the air as she reveled in the simplicity of the game. Her having learned the trick to win almost every time years ago gave her the unearned confidence of a white man.
  But to the overlord's growing horror, Eleanor's seemingly random moves began to form a pattern—a pattern that ultimately led to her victory. With a triumphant giggle, she declared her win, completely unaware of the gravity of her actions.
  The overlord's expression darkened, his features twisted in rage as he realized the consequences of his defeat. "No...this can't be!" he growled, his voice filled with anger.
  But Ellie just shrugged, her carefree demeanor undiminished. As the overlord begrudgingly handed over his soul, the realization dawned on him that Eleanor's ascent to power in Hell was not the result of cunning or calculation, but sheer innocence and luck—a fact that made her all the more dangerous. She has no idea what kind of power she holds.
-
  "No, no way, you're telling me that's how you got all those souls? A children's game? And no one owns your soul? You've won every time?" Lucifer laughs even louder than before.
  "I mean, yeah! Maybe I'll show you how sometime." She laughs with him.
  "So, were you just doing this to millions of people, thinking it was a fun game for almost a year?"
  "Yeah, pretty much. Well, not necessarily to millions. As I played with more people, I would joke that if I won I would get their soul and every other soul they own. That kind of picked up my numbers. Fun fact, I only found out that it indeed was not a joke last week. Only after I became the owner of millions of souls. But it was never in a malicious way. I was just trying to make friends. It always struck me as weird that I would find decent enough people and after we played tic-tac-toe they would be scared or wouldn't want to be around me anymore. It never occurred to me that I was and was not the problem at the same time." She explains.
  "So, you're really not evil, huh?" He smiles at her again.
  "Unfortunately, I'm not evil. But I've only been here for a year." She gives him a smile that grabs his attention. A cute smile.
  "Ellie?" He hums.
  "Your Highness." She hums back.
  "Please, call me Lucifer. Anything else is too fancy. Unless you want to call me baby again." He leans the slightest bit closer to her with a smile.
  "What were you saying, baby?" She says in the same flirtatious way she did before.
  "Is your place around here? I don't have anything else to ask you, you don't seem to be as big of a threat as I thought. You are insanely powerful and own the most souls but without the malicious intent, we should be good to go, darlin'." He chuckles.
  "My place is an idea, a concept. My place is a thought. I go where I want, basically." She shrugs.
  "You don't have a home?" He asks.
  "Nah, when I found out this is where I'm gonna be forever, I wanted to explore everything. But now I think I've explored everything so I should probably get on that. You know, find a place fit for an overlord. If I was scary enough to strike your fancy, I should have somewhere to fit that, right?" She shrugs.
  "Come home with me." He sits up straighter.
  His voice carries a hint of vulnerability, his gaze showing a flicker of loneliness. He extended the invitation to Ellie not just out of duty as the King of Hell, but because he could see right through her. She brushes everything about it heaven off. The way she fell, the way she had to find her way in this awful place, she made it seem like no big deal. But he knows it's not. This place is scary, especially to outsiders.
  And maybe he does have slightly ulterior motives. Everything about her is so familiar. The way she held herself, her feet quickly tapping on the floor, the way everything went down. He's been so in need of companionship and he can't help but want to know her better.
  "You know...I would, but I um, have something to do later, not that it's more important than you, the king of hell, but I-" She starts to nervously make an excuse.
  "No, sorry! I meant, come stay with me. For now. You're an angel, a fallen angel, just like me. I- I know what it's like to be just...cast out like nothing. I can't just throw you back into hell like I never met you. I want you to come stay with me," He throws in a small smile at the end. "I mean, if you don't want to, that's fine. I can't force you. But I think I'm a pretty good roommate."
  "Did I also accidentally find the King of Hell's soft spot?" She giggles and gets one out of him too.
  "I guess you did, Ellie. So...what do you say?" He asks, slightly nervous and not sure why.
  "You know what...sure. Why not?"
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lani-heart · 2 days
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|| series masterlist || CHAPTER ONE -> PREVIEW ||
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parings -> riki nishimura x reader genre -> non-idol au, school au, hyrbid au warnings -> n/a word count -> 1.1k
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abstract -> he's perfect how he is... but can maybe change for her.
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y/n’s perspective
“Niki, we always do this” I whined as he locked himself in the bathroom. I needed to get him ready for tonight’s party. If I didn’t have to go I wouldn’t… but with my family pushing me into choosing a major in business, they're making me befriend other kids from wealthy families. 
“Please… I don’t want to go alone” I begged but he didn’t respond. It was running late and the driver would be here soon… so I might have to go alone today. 
I gave up trying to convince him and did the final touches. Grabbing a jacket, fixing my makeup, and grabbing everything I needed. 
When I left my room, I couldn’t help but smile. 
“You’re gonna go with me?” I asked and he nodded. “I can’t let you go on your own” he muttered and I chuckled. “Besides, look at how forgetful you are,” he said as he pulled my hair roller off my bangs.
“Oh,” I said genuinely forgetting as he laughed at me. 
“Do you–” “Yes, I have my tail ring on. I’m ready, now let's go before your dad starts calling”
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Riki Nishimura was a stray hybrid I met when I was a kid. We were on a vacation trip to Japan when I saw him. I offered him some food I had on me and he took it from me to eat it like he was starved. 
My parents were already wanting to get me a hybrid so I begged them to keep him. In which they reluctantly agreed. However, when we found out he wasn’t a normal black cat hybrid they agreed. 
He was a panther hybrid, and so has been with me for years. We grew up together… However, my parents never liked how rowdy he was. Even now they tell me to get another hybrid, one that could join me in dinners, and parties, and one who is overall more well-behaved. 
I wasn’t gonna let them replace him. He was my best friend, my number one confidant. Besides… who needs a fancy and well-behaved hybrid? Niki was way more fun!
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niki’s perspective
It was the same old party they threw with the same kids as their rich human parents and new collectibles. They liked to collect new hybrids where they’d show them off and then throw them away… but not y/n. 
Without her, I probably would still be on the street mistaken for an overgrown cat hybrid. It doesn’t mean I liked being gawked at and set a price on what they’d trade her for me. Of course, she’d never let them... I’ve seen how annoyed and angry she gets and it made me happy she cared so much. 
I cared for her too… She was clumsy and an idiot so she needed someone to take care of her. So I'm here… at a stupid party filled with spoiled rich kids. 
Not to say she isn't spoiled… she is. However, I never questioned that she loved me. She always makes that clear with everything she does for me. 
“Oh! You’re y/n right?” I heard and I saw a girl behind us with what smelled like a bird hybrid. “Mmhm… have we met before?” she asked why I didn’t think so… I would’ve recognized her and her hybrid. “My name–” I didn’t care what she had to say… I just didn’t like how her hybrid kept on staring at me with those eyes of his. What was his problem?
I was cut off from my thoughts when suddenly the topic of discussion became me… 
“He’s really pretty and exotic too! I just haven’t heard good things about him, you know?” she said and I had to refrain from growling at her. Who was she to talk right in front of my face about me? And to y/n?
“Jay here is well-behaved! He’s from America you know–” Is that supposed to make him impressive? Congrats bird you’re a pet! “–it's just a shame you know. I wanted a bunny or maybe a cat hybrid” she pouted and I could see his disappointed expression. 
“Oh, Niki is really sweet but he’s solitary–” “You should invest in a social hybrid you know?” she cut her off to say. Rude… why would she need another hybrid when she has me?
“I like the way he is, he’s been with me since we were kids so there's no way I could ever replace him like that,” she said and I felt proud. 
“I heard about how much you care for him. I guess rumors were true” she said and I knew she was amongst those who talked about why she couldn’t get a nicer and social hybrid who smiles and dotes on her. I do dote on her… and I’m only nice to her. Everyone else was pushing it. 
“What is he if I can ask?” she said and y/n only sighed while looking up at me. “He’s a puma hybrid from Japan,” she answered. “Woah! I heard puma hybrids were rare! I thought he was just a cat… makes sense then for how tall he is.” she said as she got closer to me. 
“Oh please don’t do that. You’ll make him uncomfortable.” y/n said as I went behind her. 
“You should take him to the training you know. It's for the hybrids who need manners… they are opening classes in your university for hybrids'' she said… she stalked y/n to know what university she was in? She needs a life. 
“Oh… I know of them. I think he is just fine the way he is” y/n said and she bowed. “If you’ll excuse us,” she said and we walked away from the pair. “She was a bitch” y/n muttered and I laughed. “Calm down, you have an act to uphold,” I said and she sighed. “y/n?” I said and she looked at me with her eyes filled with determination to answer to give me anything I asked for. “Why didn’t you tell me your uni is having hybrid classes?” I asked and she sighed. 
“They're mainly about etiquette. She said how to take care of your owner… how to behave in a social setting, etc” and I nodded. 
“I want to go,” I said and her eyes widened. “But you're perfect–” “No, I’m not… I caused you a lot of trouble. I heard your dad get mad again this morning. He didn’t want me here because of last time” I said and she shook her head. 
“Yah! Don’t do that!” she scolded and I smiled softly. 
“Please? You said you would give me anything I asked for. I want to be a better hybrid for you”
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taglist -> @ilovecheese09 @gudkc
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please don't be a silent reader !! reblog, comment, and like <3
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artydonsgf · 3 days
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Okay so hear me out. The daughter of a famous tennis player, she doesn’t play tennis (maybe she’a like into something completely different like painting lol), but falls in-love with Patrick. Just an idea lol. I guess it could work as headcanons but also like a proper Drabble or something. I think it would be an interesting dynamic.
anon you are a GENIUS. this is non tennis player reader x patrick!!
The ball soars in the air. Your eyes are steadily trained on the bright green ball heading toward you. Slowly, you bring your racquet level until you’re in position to smack the ball. You swing, fully expecting to hear the satisfying sound of connection. Instead, the racquet smacks open air and the ball hits the fence behind you. On the other side stands your mom, racquet in hand and exasperation etched on her face.
“Sweetheart! For the last time, fix your stance!” She cups her hands to yell. You flail your arms in response.
“Mom, maybe I’m not meant to be a tennis player,” you yell back, hands cupped. “You’ve been trying for five years and I still can’t hit the ball properly.” You drop your racquet, smiling when it hits the floor with a dull clang. Serves the cursed thing right. You plop down, closing your eyes to let the sun hit your face. Turning away from the sun, you let your eyes scan the empty seats surrounding the court, trying to imagine what it’s like playing in front of so many people. Mom described it as exhilarating but it only seemed scary to you. Your mom starts to yell something back but you tune her out, guilt free. Contrary to whatever the tabloids say about you, you weren’t sad about being a disaster on the court. Your mom was a tennis legend and everyone seemed to believe that not being able to carry on her legacy was a fate worse than death. To you, it was freedom to do whatever you wanted. The sound of loud whispers caught your ear. When you turned in the direction of the noise, you were met with the panicked look of two teenage boys. They were crouched behind the fence that surrounded the court, shoving each other. You gave them a frown, confused. Once they realized they were caught, they stood up straight with nervous smiles. You looked back to your mother only to discover she was gone. Great, she’s given up on you and now you had two weird boys staring you down. You heaved yourself off the ground and took a few steps until you could clearly make out their faces.
“Yes?” You ask, trying to mask your annoyance with a smile. Had they seen your awful display of tennis? Now that you were closer, you could tell they were handsome. The thought aggravated you more.
“You suck at tennis,” the brunette informed you, a hand weaving through his hair. Your jaw falls, shocked at his bluntness. The blonde one reaches over and smacks him instantly, eyes wide.
“Patrick! Why would you say that?” He turns away from you as if that motion would somehow make his words quiet to your ears. The two exchange a series of looks, the blonde one coming out on top when Patrick rolls his eyes and puts his hands up in surrender. The blonde turns back to you, a placating smile already working its way onto his delicate face.
“I’m really sorry about my friend here,” he gestures to the boy he called Patrick. “He’s not good at talking to girls,” Patrick is rubbing his ear, grumbling but lets the insult fly past him.
“I’m Art. Donaldson. I’m Art Donaldson,” He points to himself as if you’d somehow get the wrong idea and think he was someone else. You smile, finding it endearing. “This is Patrick,” he gestures to his friend again. Your eyes scan Patrick’s face.
“You’re a dick,” you pointedly inform him. He grins, all carefree and beautiful.
“I’m a dick who’s good at tennis,” he says, a smirk playing on his lips.
“Tennis isn’t my thing,” your eyes narrow and Art disappears from your mind. All you could focus on was this boy and his annoying smile.
“Why not? Your mom is a star, those genes didn’t get to you?” He gestures in the general direction of the door where your mom exited. You give him a tight lipped smile.
“I’m not good with a racquet. My strong suit is sewing,” you gesture to your outfit. “Home made.” You do a spin, pleased to see the way their eyes follow you. Being your own designer meant your ass would always look good in skirts.
“I’m good with a racquet,” he leans closer until his face is nearly pressed into the fence. “So is Art,” he waves to his friend. Your eyes dart to the locked door. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you run to unlock it. That’s how you spent the first day you met Patrick and Art. Smushed between them as they tried to show you all the tennis skills they were bragging about. It became apparent early on that Patrick was the expert between the two. He had a stance that your mother would praise and he knew it. Art was good but whenever he caught the cocky smile Patrick wore, his step faltered.
“You got it Art,” you were seated in the shade, your back against the fence, watching them play. He turned to give you a smile. Your eye caught on Patrick, who’s face had darkened. Art threw the ball and served with such strength, the ball didn’t even touch Patrick’s racquet before bouncing and flying behind him.
“Ace!” Art yelled, grinning. Patrick smiled at the display fondly before rolling his eyes. The game continued and Patrick came out on top. The two rushed over to where you still sat, your hands now occupied with a needle and thread.
“So?” Patrick plopped next to you, Art following immediately. You looked up from your project, confident enough you wouldn’t poke yourself.
“What?” You asked, confused. The boys exchanged looks, seemingly speaking to one another through those looks. Finally, Patrick makes a noise that could only signal defeat.
“Your number. We want your number,” he points at your phone sitting in your lap. You raise an eyebrow.
“Both of you?” Your eyes fall on Art before going back to Patrick. They nod eagerly. You stop sewing long enough to gesture between them. “Would joining this make me third place?” The moment the words leave your mouth, Art already has an explanation to shut it down.
“There is no this. Number?” He fishes his phone out of his pocket and drops it in front of you. You oblige, tapping your number in. He nods, satisfied and knudges Patrick to do the same. You hold your hand out for his phone but he instead reaches over to grab your phone. He gestures for you to unlock it and for some reason, you do.
“I’ll give you my number instead so when you’re thinking about me at 2 am, you can tell me,” he has the audacity to wink and your stomach has the audacity to flip. Art has a crumpled look on his face before he smooths it quickly. The boys stand up and leave, wiggling their fingers in goodbye. You look down at the new number in your phone, the only number in your phone at the current moment and smile. Being god awful at tennis finally did something for you, besides putting you on gossip sites. Maybe tennis wasn’t that bad.
hello! tbh i didn’t like this as much as my other writings but the show must go on😭 also it’s obvious but i kinda forgot my tennis terms, high school tennis wasn’t enough for my brain to remember apparently. please enjoy, i hope it’s obvious that this is about patrick.
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btsmosphere · 1 day
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Supercharged | JJK
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Chapter 5: Scared of a Little Lightning
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🗲summary: It starts with a blow to the chest that changes your life. When your city’s most celebrated hero pays a visit, it turns out the noble Bolt has no trouble tossing lives aside. Lives that won't be missed. Lives like yours. Seven mysterious and powerful men give you another chance – one that starts to feel more like a curse the moment you meet golden boy Jungkook. The boy who wants you as far from his brothers as he can get you. Is it you he hates, or the blue lightning that now runs through your veins? And could it be his golden light that illuminates your heart when darkness threatens? 🗲this chapter: With the threat of Bolt rising, so do tensions within the base.
🗲pairing: jungkook x female reader 🗲word count: 6.3k 🗲genre: angst, action, eventual fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, supervillains au, found family 🗲rating: pg15 🗲warnings: violence with superpowers, and also with fists, they fight in this one okay, swearing, hella tension and anger issues, arguing, angry Namjoon (yes that is a warning). it's just a tense chapter😅
a/n: oH I am EXCITED for this chapter!!! It's a juicy one if I say so myself😌I am begging you to come chat with me about it, things are heating up!! Be it an ask, comments, tags, hearing from you guys about this series is an absolute joy so far and it's making me giddy posting each week wondering what you guys will think👀thank you so much, that's a great feeling! I hope you enjoy reading the chapter as much as I did writing it!💜
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Whatever Jungkook thought of you staying, you couldn’t care less.
While he glared, you ignored him and instead enjoyed the new additions to your routine. In fact, though you wouldn’t admit it, it gave you a bit of pleasure to know he was gritting his teeth as you continued as part of their lives.
However, he still had his chance to make your life a misery. He had taken to actively antagonising you rather than straight-up ignoring you as he had previously in training.
That was what it felt like, at least, when he was yelling “faster!” into your ear as you fired bolts as rapidly as you could muster. It was never good enough for him.
It only got worse when he took to flinging the targets around your training space with a well-aimed jet of gold. That kind of precision and strength was something you could barely hope to achieve with your powers. Even trying to hit the targets in the air was beyond you, let alone being able to actually throw one, as Jungkook did with such ease.
Though in some ways it was refreshing to have a different training routine, in most other respects it was anything but.
Anyone else could be forgiven for thinking he was simply trying to push you now that you were in line to join their team, but you knew better. The smirks that occupied his face when you failed gave it away. You tried desperately not to give him that satisfaction, but eventually you always lost out to exhaustion, leaving him triumphant.
On the contrary, physical training which you now had to take part in, was welcome relief.
Usually Hoseok was the one training with you, which you were ecstatic about. Of course, he was mainly needed to show you the ropes in the beginning, and once you understood how to use all the gym equipment, you could more or less do it yourself. But he was in there anyway a lot of the time, and you were more than happy with the way he would chat away as you worked out side by side. It felt nice to spend time with someone who actually wanted you there – who would help, or play stupid games with you, or drag you into doing pairs exercises that would never go right, normally ending with you in a hysterical tangle on the floor.
His powers being what they were, however, it was a little discouraging sometimes. You would be red-faced and ready to give up while he still had enough breath in him to gush enthusiastically about the latest band that took his interest, all while doing pull-ups.
But then Yoongi would appear (out of nowhere, as always) and grumble along with you, making fun of his ‘over-active’ brother while Hope laughed loudly.
Spending even more time in the training areas made you feel like this place was really alive. It was completely different to anywhere you had lived before, solely because you weren’t alone.
Jin had taken you directly to your old place the day after you had accepted Namjoon’s offer. It had hardly crossed your mind, so you were surprised to see it as you had left it. Apparently Kuyang had been covering the rent for you.
It must not have been much of a strain for him, you thought, standing in the doorway of your place and thinking of his laboratory in a skyscraper. The two hole-in-the-wall rooms that made up your apartment were a far cry from anywhere in the centre of town. You were almost embarrassed for Jin to follow you in there, but then he was pushing past to drop several empty boxes on the worn carpet and apologising that your new room wouldn’t be so big.
“That’s hardly the same thing,” you snorted, taking the first box through to your bedroom, “have you seen your kitchen?”
Looking over to your sorry excuse for a kitchen, Jin couldn’t argue. He half-grimaced.
“Who really needs an oven in this day and age anyway?” he tried.
Rolling your eyes with a snort, you pulled open your wardrobe and set to packing.
Halfway through, several indistinguishable shouts bled through the ceiling. What startled you was that you almost didn’t notice it, used to it as you had been.
Jin had stopped, and stared at you in alarm, but you just chuckled and told him that was how it was, living on top of other families.
In the end, you didn’t use all of the boxes. You looked around, just in case, for something you would never miss. It hadn’t taken much to empty the place of all trace of you, though you left the fridge well alone, not daring to discover the state of what you had left.
You dropped your keys on the table and left the silence behind.
Back home, there was always sound, activity. During your water breaks or after training, you would see the others training too. It felt like you were all in it together. Even with the knowledge that you could barely compare to the skill the boys had with their respective powers, you reminded yourself that they wanted you on the team.
Well, most of them did.
But you would keep working and improving. You would get there.
Jimin finally returned to training again too, after a few days where he hardly left V’s side. Seeing his boyfriend so hurt had certainly brought out Jimin’s protective side, even more than normal. It was honestly quite endearing – that was until you had passed Jimin in the training room, hurling his weights through the air with such ferocity you were surprised it didn’t dent the walls.
Hurrying past, you had decided to leave him to it. After so long being strong for his boyfriend, he certainly needed that.
The pink glow of his eyes shouldn’t be such an intimidating sight, but you knew you didn’t want to get in the way of him.
With Jimin downstairs, you found V in the living room. He had been steadily recovering, quicker than someone without powers would have done, but still you knew he had been instructed to take it easy.
A quick shower later, you were less out of breath, but still weary from a day of hard work.
Next time you returned, V was in the kitchen. You couldn’t see what he was doing, but you didn’t want him to be up for too long. Ignoring your desire to sink into the nearest chair, you walked over.
“Need help with anything?”
V didn’t look around at you, but shook his head as he reached up to a cupboard.
Not wanting to push, you slid into a chair at the counter. You were unable to resist resting your head on one hand, but you fought to keep your eyes open so you could check on V.
Somewhere along the way, you failed at your intention. A new set of footsteps entering the space disturbed you as you had been dozing lightly, but the moment you caught yourself, your eyes were flying open.
With your tired state, you couldn’t even bring yourself to shoot a glare at Jungkook, who was walking up to the counter. You only gathered the energy to avoid his eyes entirely.
Jungkook appeared to have the same idea, walking past without acknowledging you. But as he drew level with V, the older boy turned away and crossed to the counter where you sat.
Lifting your head from your hand, you blinked as V walked right up to you. The next moment, he was pushing a steaming mug of tea right under your nose.
Opening your mouth, your tired brain couldn’t formulate words, but conjured a similar image from when you had made him tea the first time you spoke. You still regretted accidentally setting him off then, unintentionally letting your powers go.
Perhaps you were forgiven?
“Thank you,” you spoke quietly, meeting V’s eyes. You couldn’t decipher his expression, but he was watching you, and smiled lightly when you replied.
As he turned and walked back over to the sofa, your eyes landed on Jungkook, who still stood across from you. For a long moment, he held your gaze with a poker face. Then his eyes fell to the mug cradled between your hands, a frown darting across his expression.
Swallowing, you waited for whatever venomous comment he had prepared for you, to warn you away from V. Even after you had helped treat V’s wound, Jungkook had been opposed to you being near his injured brother.
He turned away without a word.
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A crash echoed through the empty rooms.
Staring as the sparks jittered across the surface of the battered target, you dropped your arms to your sides. The training area was deserted aside from you, and you waited until you could no longer hear the crash faintly ricocheting from the walls.
Eyes still trained on the target, you panted, chest heaving.
Though you were training alone today, you could practically hear Jungkook telling you not to give in. Who knew all those insults would become motivational?
Whether it was motivation or the fear of falling behind, it succeeded.
Exhausted as you were from your training, you decided to make the most of your unsupervised session and try one more thing. Locking your trembling arm straight ahead, you took a breath and let your powers fill you up until that familiar blue burst from your palms.
But instead of aiming short bursts at the various different targets positioned around the space, you gritted your teeth and held it, lightning spilling in a continuous blue bolt towards the central target.
You had no idea how to do this, but it had always impressed you when Jungkook could lift things with his powers. All you had been taught to do was shoot. Still, you took a breath when you felt confident that your power was flowing strongly, focussing on the metal disc.
The way the sparks ensnared the target gave you assurance as you slowly raised your arm.
You felt a resistance you had never felt before as the electricity lifted, tugging at the target. It felt that you were connected to it somehow.
Tensing, you focussed intently, loading more power into the bolts already shooting through the air. Maintaining the motion of your arm, you gaped as you saw the circular metal raise along with the blue power dragging it.
You had done it! You were lifting it, it was moving-
Like a switch had been flipped, the flow of power cut off, the bright blue that dominated the space fading. The moment your powers retreated, you found yourself gasping, a wave of fatigue near enough sweeping you away.
Your knees hit the floor as the same time as the target. Wincing at the harsh metal clattering loudly on the floor, you screwed your eyes shut for a moment. Your chest continued to heave, and you noticed the sheen of sweat that had broken onto your forehead.
But once your breathing steadied again, you laughed.
The next moment, you let out a loud whoop, flopping flat onto the floor.
You had managed something new! Laughter continued to shake you as you caught your breath on the floor. Jungkook didn’t have to teach you everything – it seemed you could manage to strive forwards by yourself, even if you weren’t good enough in his eyes.
It took you a while to get up. Not even the thought of Jungkook’s nagging could have motivated you to do another iota of training.
About all you could manage was to drag yourself upstairs for food, but the smile never left your face.
Lunch was a simple sandwich. Already thinking forward to your session in the gym this afternoon, you couldn’t be bothered to make anything more demanding.
You still made two plates, however, leaving the other out for whenever V was hungry. Today the others had gone out, but with him still healing, he couldn’t go with them like normal.
You had heard Jin scolding him to make him stay, though; it seemed he felt well enough already to want to go out again.
This time, you didn’t particularly mind their absence. There was no sense of secrecy, no need to for you to turn on the news while you wondered what they were up to. As the soon-to-be newest addition to the team, you had been present to hear all the details.
Of course, given the way things went last time they returned from a job, there was an undeniable edge of nerves.
But it was an easy mission. That was what they had said, and what you kept reminding yourself.
They were concerned that Bolt had been showing interest in a lab on the western edge of the city, and wanted to protect it. Yoongi and Hope had been watching it for a while Jin and Namjoon did some digging around Bolt, and whatever his intentions may be. The latter seemed to have found frustratingly little, but didn’t let the mystery of Bolt stop them from acting.
The whole group was focussed on keeping the lab safe. Since the developer was one of their allies, they had all the details they needed to be one step ahead if Bolt should attack, which they highly expected.
Although you had kept your mouth shut at the meeting, not wanting to cause problems by irritating Jungkook when the team needed him, you had enjoyed the experience. For once, you didn’t feel particularly out of your depth. Having been Kuyang’s secretary for a while, you were well used to looking at plans such as the one of this lab, which you had pretty much memorised. The fighting and the powers, you were still working on. But at least you could understand the logistical side of their job.
After lunch, you lounged in the empty living space for perhaps a little too long. But with no one around to judge you, you let your tired limbs rest for a bit.
When you eventually made it off the sofa, you passed V in the hall. You noticed the small black receiver clutched in his hand; the boys had decided that keeping him in the loop while they were out on the mission would ease his nerves a bit.
“Any news?” you asked him, nodding at it.
V turned his dark eyes on you, then glanced at the receiver before he sighed.
He shook his head.
You had to admit you shared his disappointment, but you forced a smile to your face nonetheless.
“Well, no news is good news, right?”
Your smile seemed to be for nothing, as his eyes never lifted high enough to look at your face. Instead he gave a noncommittal shrug.
“I, uh, made you a sandwich,” you told him, “make sure to eat, and don’t worry too much, yeah?”
Walking down to the training rooms again, you felt the sadly familiar desire to do more creeping in. You never would have thought that after gaining the ability to shoot lightning, you could ever feel so powerless.
Nothing would happen to them.
You had seen their plan, it was so detailed.
There was no way Bolt would be able to outsmart them.
As you started training, these thoughts revolved around your mind in time with your steps on the treadmill. By the time you were using the machines, gritting your teeth as you pushed the weights with all your might, you weren’t sure if your mantras were helping.
They would come back…
Reaching the peak of a sit-up, you let out a groan.
There were six of them out there, Bolt was outnumbered…
Were you certain? Or were you repeating these thoughts just to convince yourself?
Finishing your set, you slumped back to the floor and stared up at the plain ceiling. This space was tucked in the corner of the gym, and you felt sheltered by the machines that blocked you from view, even though you were alone.
Breathing deeply, you brought a hand up to massage your brow. As you tried to ease the pressure, you closed your eyes.
In the darkness behind your eyelids, a light seemed to bloom. Blue, all too familiar, dancing over a face you had seen just once in the flesh but would never forget. A bright flash had your eyes flying open again, heart hammering as it expected the drop from who knows how many floors up-
Your heavy breathing fell alone in the silence.
Swallowing back the memories of Bolt, you tried to push back the fear that was curling tighter around your stomach at the thought of your friends out there with him.
You had just pushed yourself gently to sit when a sharp clang sounded, along with a muffled yell, making your head whip around to its source.
One positive thing was that you didn’t have to worry about the boys being out any more. But there were new concerns on your mind as you saw Jungkook storming into the gym. A muscle in his jaw popped as he ripped his jacket off forcefully, casting it to the floor as he stalked to one of the machines.
You watched him with wide eyes, stunned by his entrance. He hadn’t seen you yet.
His whole body seemed fraught with tension as he stood, back facing you, eyeing a machine. Fists clenched at his side, his shoulders rose and fell with his heavy breathing.
Just when you thought he was going to stand still all day, he aimed a harsh kick at the base of the machine, another clang ringing through the space.
That startled you into action, springing to your feet. While you walked between machines back to the centre of the room, he had grasped the bars and started pushing them, grunting as the weights lifted and fell, clashing against the others.
Stopping a few paces away, you stayed silent for a moment. The frustration emanating from him, the intimidating muscles revealed by his vest, all made you wary of him.
Pulling yourself together, you took a breath. Why should you let him scare you?
“Jungkook.”
He froze. His arms were together in front of him, the machine’s weights hovering as he held them there.
With a huff of air, he dropped his head between his shoulders. Slowly, he turned his head towards you slightly.
“What happened?” you asked, refusing to be deterred by his challenging sideye, “is everyone okay?”
Biting at the inside of his cheek, he turned his glare away from you, aiming it instead at the floor. When he spoke, his voice was low and deadly, restrained as if he would burst if he didn’t control his tone.
“We fucking lost half the place.”
“But everyone’s back? Then it’s okay-”
Metal clanging loudly together made you jolt, unable to help yourself from taking a step back when Jungkook let the weights drop and strode across the space between you.
“We should have had the upper hand! We did everything we planned, but Bolt still…” his nostrils flared as he took a breath, “we had to blow half of it up, just so he wouldn’t get to it.”
Sighing heavily, he turned away from you, shoving a hand through his hair.
Frowning slightly, you watched the frustrated man. Of course you were glad everyone was safe, but the fact they had lost the lab felt like a blow, even to you.
“How…?” you spoke quietly, but it only seemed to rile him up.
Whirling back to face you, his eyes blazed.
“He’s too strong. We let him get too far already. If you think you’re gonna help us at all out there, you’re wrong.” He stepped slowly towards you as he spat his words, “we can’t do enough against him, you’ll only slow us down.”
He stopped, glaring down at you now you were practically nose to nose. Your own anger bubbled within you – why did he bring you into this? His lashing out at you was uncalled for.
“I’m joining you guys because Namjoon wants my help,” you shot back, “or do you not trust him? I’ll be ready, you don’t have to worry about that.”
Jungkook’s jaw clenched, eyes narrowing, poisonous stare intensifying, but you refused to back away. Scowling, his mouth opened to retort-
“Hey! Y/N?”
Jungkook’s mouth snapped closed, the same moment you turned your back on him to find Jin and Yoongi standing in the doorway.
Stepping into the gym, Jin looked past you to Jungkook, fixing him with a stare.
“Time to back off, Kook.”
At first, you were pleased to have someone else see how irrational Jungkook was acting towards you. But then Jin turned to you.
“I think you ought to go upstairs.”
Giving you a tight smile, Jin moved past you towards Jungkook, leaving you stunned.
“Just let him cool off.”
Slightly jumpy, you looked around to find Yoongi right beside you. Raising an eyebrow, he waited for you to come away.
Sighing, but biting your tongue, you set off. Yoongi fell into step beside you as you left. With one last look back, you saw Jin leaning against the machine where Jungkook had now resumed his rage workout, talking too low for you to hear.
As you emerged into the main training space, Hope was just coming from the stairs. His pace was rapid, but slowed when he saw you, seeming to deflate.
“Everything alright?” he jogged up to you and took a place on your other side.
“I just don’t get what his problem is,” you confessed, irritation bleeding into your words. “He turns everything on me somehow.”
The boys either side of you shared a glance.
“He’s just frustrated, but he’ll come around. This thing with Bolt is a bit more serious than we anticipated,” Yoongi explained.
Taking a moment to process his words, you swallowed back the continuing anger you felt towards Jungkook. You knew why he was upset, it just didn’t make it any easier to take.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” you cursed, shaking your head, “is everyone okay? I wasn’t even thinking about all that after Jungkook…”
“Yeah,” Hoseok nodded, but his eyes didn’t meet yours. “We’ll figure it out. Just because today didn’t go so well, doesn’t mean we can’t win next time.”
“But how was your training?” Yoongi moved on, “I’m surprised you made it to the gym without Hobi to bully you-”
“Hey!” Hobi exclaimed, “Y/N’s a great student. She’s working hard. You’ll be able to join us soon at this rate.”
He directed this last at you, nudging you with his elbow. But his bright smile no longer struck the same confidence in you. Instead, you felt Jungkook’s words take root inside you.
“I just hope I can be useful…” you muttered.
“You have nothing to worry about.”
It may well have been the first time Hoseok didn’t manage to alleviate you worries, even slightly. When you got upstairs, it was to find Namjoon had disappeared to his office already, Jimin clearly faking a smile for V and near silence as Jin and Jungkook remained downstairs.
Even Hobi, trying to bring your mind away from Jungkook, had a downtrodden slope to his shoulders.
That night, you did nothing but contribute to the despondent quiet in the house.
These men had so much more experience than you did, and yet they were unable to save the lab from Bolt’s clutches. How were you going to help them?
But you knew one thing for sure: you had to.
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It was with renewed determination that you headed down to train the next morning.
You arrived a little before Jungkook, depositing a towel and water bottle by the wall as he entered behind you.
“Still here?” he asked dryly, crossing the space to lean against the wall.
Straightening up, you rolled your eyes.
“What does it look like?”
“Looks like you’re naïve enough to think you’re going to be any help.”
Gritting your teeth at his retort, you restrained yourself from insulting him in return.
“Let’s just start training, shall we?” you bit out.
Clearly some of your attitude had bled through, however, because Jungkook pushed off the wall and marched towards you. His dark eyebrows drew together.
“What for?” he spat, “you can barely handle the training room, what makes you think you’ll be any good out there-”
“That’s what training is for,” you countered, unable to help your voice rising.
“I have more important things to focus on than YOU!” his voice raised in return, “you’ll never be ready.”
And with that, he shook his head, starting to walk away from you. For a second, you could only gape in outrage at his back as he stormed away. But he only made it a few paces before you recovered yourself, stepping forwards.
“I am ready!”
Your hands balled at your sides as he froze in place. You remembered the power that ran through them, your success in training yesterday. Jungkook was done underestimating you.
He spun to face you.
“Prove it.”
Not a second after his words, a slice of gold cut through the air, straight towards you.
Ducking out of the way, you whirled around again to find Jungkook advancing towards you, lopsided smirk on his face and gold light whirling in his irises. This time, you reacted when he raised an arm, blue racing to meet his gold in the air and colliding in a shower of sparks.
Feeling the thrum of electricity in your veins, you felt stronger. You stepped forwards, meeting his eyes in challenge. He thought you were too weak? That you would give up?
Jungkook threw his arm to the side, severing the beam of light that connected you, but instantly fired another bolt which you leapt aside from. The next moment, you recoiled, intercepted by a second streak of lightning cutting through your path.
You were driven back into the path of one more blast as it shot through the air, forcing you to fling yourself to the ground as sparks ripped overhead.
“Please,” Jungkook let out a scoff, “I could beat you with my hands behind my back.”
You had already jumped to your feet, lifting your palms.
“I’d like to see you try.”
Blue erupted towards him then, his own trick used against him as two beams of light penned him in, one either side.
Quirking an eyebrow, Jungkook aimed his palm to the ground, to your surprise. The next moment saw him pushing off the ground, boosted by a jet of gold as he vaulted over your attack. Reacting quickly, you shot towards him again as he was still a blur in the air.
Gold blazed to meet it, an explosion of embers as they collided. You felt Jungkook throw the attack off, sending you stumbling as your lightning collided with a resounding clash against a pile of metal targets that were stacked by the wall.
To your satisfaction, though, the clearing sparks revealed the man staggering up from the floor. It seemed you weren’t so incapable as he thought.
“Still think I’m not ready?” you called, laughter lining your voice.
Jungkook said nothing, drawing himself to his full height and looking around.
Gold light streaked towards the side of the room then, sending a shape flying towards you.
You ducked, the target clanging against the wall behind you. But more were already coming your way, Jungkook rapidly firing more gold through the air.
Undeterred, you didn’t hesitate to fire back, knocking the targets from the air with well-aimed blows of your own. The room filled with flashes of light, blue against gold, fuelled by the two of you throwing everything you had.
But your powers began to slip, reluctant to work so quickly. You could feel yourself tiring, and it was a matter of seconds before you missed, too sluggish to catch one target that shot your way.
It caught your arm, hard, pulling you off balance. You stumbled, one knee hitting the floor as you steadied yourself. Instinctively, the other arm covered your head, waiting for more blows.
But nothing came.
Panting hard, you looked around.
Jungkook stood tall opposite you, the epitome of power as strength filled his form and flowed from his fingertips. His eyes shone with an identical light. Two more targets were suspended in the air by sustained gold beams. He kept them hovering there. Taunting you.
“Like I said,” he growled, “not ready. And if I can do this, it means Bolt can.”
Face burning in humiliation, you pushed yourself to stand.
“What are you so scared of?” you spat, “if you’re so powerful, how come you’re afraid of one man?”
“Don’t you dare-” he began, but you cut him off.
“No!” you yelled over him, “you’re the weak one! You just can’t admit you need me out there because you’re scared of a little lightning.”
In the blink of an eye, the targets dropped from the air, clashing deafeningly against the ground as Jungkook chose to charge at you himself. His teeth were bared as he ran forwards, grabbing you and sending the both of you to the floor.
Jungkook was strong, to say the least. You couldn’t escape his weight that pinned you down, no matter if you thrashed.
His face was so close to you, breathing almost as heavily as you. As you met his blazing eyes, you saw the gold glow fading, darkness taking over.
Gritting your teeth, you pushed back at him, letting your power flow from your hands. Using powers had seemingly slipped his mind; he didn’t see your attack coming, and you successfully sent him reeling, your blow of lightning throwing him off you.
But he found his feet at the same time you did, and scrambled towards you again.
A fist flew towards you, and you countered it with a blast of blue.
Instead of retaliating again, he stumbled back. A smirk crept over your face. Something had got to him; you had riled him up.
“Something wrong?” you asked innocently.
Big mistake.
Maybe Jungkook hadn’t been thrown. Maybe he had just been recharging.
Because now he was advancing again, and his fists were surrounded by gold sparks, that same gold glowering from his eyes once more. You could only match his power for so long. You weren’t as fast as him, and every blow you deflected only made way for another to follow the next instant.
Stumbling backwards, away from him, the back of your leg collided with a bench, and you fell back, heart hammering in panic.
You never met the ground. A fist found your shirt and you were being slammed against the wall instead.
Feet flailing, you called on the last embers of your powers to push back, but Jungkook captured your hand with his free one. He pinned it against the wall, where your sparks danced together in an impossible wrestle.
Meanwhile, his other hand which forced you against the wall didn’t let up, digging more harshly into your throat as you faltered.
Gasping and struggling fruitlessly against him, you stared into the molten gold of his eyes as he pressed his face closer to you.
“You know nothing,” he hissed, “you’ll never be ready-”
“JUNGKOOK!”
A cacophony of voices suddenly swelled, joined by hurried footsteps.
The pressure on your throat was gone then, and you met the ground at last. But your feet couldn’t hold you up, and you crashed to the ground choking on the air that was finally forcing its way to your lungs.
Blinking, you looked up. The first thing you saw was pink, Jimin coming into focus beside you. Concern filled his eyes as your gasping continued, a hand falling onto your shoulder.
But you avoided his eyes in favour of finding what had become of Jungkook.
A few paces away, more of the boys were huddled, still jostling as Jungkook tried to escape. Hoseok was behind him, unrelenting grip on the younger’s arms stopping him from going anywhere. Even though you both knew Hope was the strongest of you all, that wasn’t stopping Jungkook from trying. Gold still bounced off the walls, blinding flashes shooting between, but missing, the members who barely seemed phased by his outbursts.
You couldn’t get a good glimpse of your rival though. He was eclipsed by Jin, who was trying to steady him by the shoulders, speaking quickly and sternly to the incensed man.
On his other side, Yoongi had a hand on his chest, pushing him back and further away from you.
Just then, another set of footsteps, not frantic like the others, made you look around. And even though his gaze travelled first to Jungkook, you couldn’t help but feel your veins freeze with dread.
Namjoon looked furious.
He marched in, V scurrying at his heels. At the sight of his leader, Jungkook seemed to finally ease up a bit, the scuffle quietening down.
A silence seemed to settle over the room, Jungkook’s last struggles dying away as Namjoon cast his eyes around everyone. A faint red haze flitted across his eyes and the lights in the room flickered perilously.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
It was the only time you had felt something close to solidarity with Jungkook. When you looked at each other, you could tell he gulped just like you.
“I thought this was going well,” he shook his head slightly. Your heart sank.
Raising his eyes to meet Jungkook’s again, he took a couple of steps towards the younger while the room held its breath. The lights turned red for a split second, then dimmed again, retreating as if they were equally afraid of the imposing leader.
“I don’t know what you were thinking. You’re supposed to be helping her, and this is how you go about that? You could have killed her! Is this your way of showing you can be trusted?!”
Namjoon never quite raised his voice enough to yell. But still you winced at the anger laced into his tone, and the arm he threw out towards you as he ranted.
Part of you stung anew after he said Jungkook could have killed you. You wanted to protest, hurt swelling within you at the insinuation that you were still too weak – but you pushed it down. The ghost of pain that lingered where Jungkook had struck you reminded you that he was right, as much as it shamed you to admit it, even to yourself.
Jungkook looked down, not able to keep eye contact with his enraged leader.
Sucking in his cheeks, Namjoon took a breath. But you certainly weren’t breathing. You could only hang on for whatever he said next, and the way he cast his eyes between the two of you didn’t instil much hope.
He fixed his eyes on you next.
“I told you I expected you to be able to trust us, including Jungkook. It’s clear you haven’t been able to do that yet. I’m sorry.”
Though he didn’t speak with as much fury, his sadness almost made you feel worse. You wished he would yell at you, give you something to push back against as Jungkook did.
But all you were left with was a punch to the gut more painful than anything the tempestuous younger boy could deliver.
His next words only made it worse.
“I’m keeping you back here until I’m sure you’re ready. I wanted you active as soon as possible, but not like this.”
Although his stern gaze lingered for a moment longer, you barely reacted. His words didn’t feel real. You could only stare blankly at him while the shock reeled through you.
When he turned away, you caught Jungkook’s eye. The satisfied glint you found there made your hands ball into fists.
“Jungkook,” Namjoon sighed now, pinching his nose, “same goes for you.”
At first, you weren’t sure you had heard him right.
Apparently, you weren’t the only one. Jungkook’s eyes widened in horror, straining against Hobi for another brief moment.
“What-?”
“I can’t have you acting like this while your head needs to be in the game, now more than ever. You’ll be staying behind until you show me you can be trusted with each other.”
Unlike with you, Namjoon fixed his dongsaeng with a hard stare, challenging him in some unspoken conversation until he seemed satisfied.
Turning to leave, Namjoon’s gaze fell on you again. His eyes softened, travelled to Jimin.
“Take her upstairs.”
With that, he stalked from the room. Light bled into the room again, but no one moved until he disappeared from the doorway, almost certainly returning to his office.
V stayed behind this time, and now moved towards you. Jimin’s hand on your arm shifted so he could help tug you up to stand. Though you may have stumbled a little, you were sure you could walk fine.
Still, you were grateful for Jimin’s hovering grip on your arm and V’s presence on your other side as they led you to the door.
Reaching the edge of the room, you glanced back at Jungkook. Your aim was to send the most venomous look you could, and it seemed his was the same. Still penned in by the others, who were corralling him away to the corner, he shot you a glare as he shrugged off Hope’s grip in an aggravated movement.
His scowl left your sight as you left the training room, but it stayed imprinted on your memory.
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Thank you for reading!! I can't wait to hear what you think of the chapter!👀💜
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hart269 · 3 days
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Slithering Hearts
Chapter 7
Pairing : Regulus Black x Fem! reader Synopsis : You begin an unlikely friendship with the little Black. And soon your whole life seems to have become a tumultuous pathway. The catch, James Potter is your brother. A/N : You admit your feelings for Regulus. Also some Regulus POV.
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Masterlist / Series Masterlist
Littered acoss the expanse of the celestial sphere, the burning balls of the stars couldn't have shined as brightly as his eyes, merlin, it was because of Amelia, yes, it was her, not like you had noticed them before, you definitely didn't. Not at all. It sounded like a lie even in your head. You groaned, burying your face into your scarf.
"Are you okay?" you glared up at him, it was his fault, yes, how dare he be who he is. You scoffed retreating back into your scarf, not answering his question.
He pressed his fingers on your forehead, and your face naturally warmed up, "Do you have a fever".
"I'm feeling just a bit warm" your muffled sound barely reached him. He didn't retaliate, "You should visit madam pompfrey".
You lifted your head to meet his concerned eyes, "I'm fine Reg, it'll go away in a while". At least you hoped so. He nodded although not looking much convinced.
Despite the cold night, you could feel the warmth like little electrical waves seeping from him. You scooted closer until your arms were almost brushing, when he made no movement to pull away, staring into the book, you scooted closer.
Regulus stared daggers into the book, latching into the word, not being able to complete reading the sentence. He knew for a fact, that if he moved and you took it as his discomfort, you will move away. He also knew that he wouldn't be able to muster up the courage to ask you to move back.
It was easier in times when you two were with more people to focus elsewhere, to impersonate as was expected of him. But with no one else, just in your presence, the walls he had build are vanished. To say much, you hadn't let him build it since you met.
It would be deceptive to say he hadn't tried, to distance you, to keep you at arm's bay, to be the 'perfect' child he was expected to be. But you tore them as if they were made of dandelions and not the stone of his parent's expectations.
So Regulus didn't move, not until you scooted closer, then he leaned a bit on your shoulder. His eyes relaxed, darting between sentences, and between the mayhem of the entirety of the his world, it felt like a stretch of peace.
"Can I ask you a question?" you asked, looking down at his head. He lifted his head, his eyes gazing at yours, "Si seulement nous pouvions obtenir les réponses à toutes les questions que notre cœur désire".
You shuddered, it was startling whenever he spoke French at random times, "What does that mean?". He turned his head, his eyes directly meeting yours, "You can ask whatever you want."
You nodded, not trusting your voice. There were so many things you wanted to ask him, but now that he was looking at you so attentively, as if you're gonna recite the holy words of Merlin himself, you could only whisper, "Do you ever wonder, what is it like" you paused for a moment, taking a breath, "being in love?"
The thing about Regulus he never questioned your weird questions, he had answered them to the best of his knowledge and even embarked with you on a journey to find them. But this he thought was the most pondorous. He leaned back into your shoulder, what was it like being in love. And when he finally answered his voice was not an octave louder than a whisper.
"I would say it's like the feeling when after a storm, the tide finally resides. It's wandering around lost your whole life until you stop cause you have found what you were searching for, until you are no longer lost, until you're home."
Regulus pondered over his own words the next day, he had answered at what he beleived to be his form of it, but the only person he could ever picture coming close to that feeling would be you. You had revolved around in his mind since the first day he had seen you at King cross station waving away at your brother. Maybe he'll tell you one day, one day for sure.
For now, it was enough for him to have you by his side, even just at friends. You were enough, even if you were now chasing after a black cat so you could find his 'twin' as you said.
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"And then he was like all screaming and stuff, just because his favourite panda was in the dirt, what a siss" you were loudly interrupted by the scream of the infamous James potter who entered in his dorm.
He pointed at you, "What are you doing here, munching away at my cookies, you monster?".
Sirius snickered behind him, patting his back. You rolled your eyes, going back to the story you were telling Remus and Peter. You may have used some foxy ways to enter here and later when Remus and Peter entered, you decided to distract them with an embarassig story of James.
However James didn't retiliate, he came screeching, snatching the cookie jar from you. You went right back to fighting him for it, grabbing at the jar, "Where's yours"
"It's finished."
"Doesn't mean you can take mine" he snatched it back, holding it close to his chest. "You sneaked into the Gryffindor's common room and then into the boy's dorm, somehow found ours, for cookies"
At your nod, Sirius grinned, "She's perfect to execute pranks". You had already been exempted from being pranked after once you had gotten water thrown on you and James had received an Howler, this time from your Dad.
James shook his head, "No, absolutely not, we don't want anymore trouble than we already have"
"I'm not trouble"
"Yes you are, you always hanging out with snakes"
"Not everyone in Slytherin are snakes" Sure some like Malfoy and Lestrange were but you avoided them like the plauges they were.
"Oh yes, they are" James grumbled finally snatching the jar from him.
"Not to mention you are always hanging out with my brother" Sirius said plopping down on his bed.
"So what?" you glared at him. Sirius stood for a moment, it was truly a lightbulb lighting in his head moment at him.
"You know I remembered something, wanna help me over there" Sirius pointed outside the door.
"Why not" you squinted your eyes following him.
"You like my brother, don't you"
"You have no evidence"
"You're not denying it"
"Don't test me Black, I know your deepest darkest secrets too"
"Oh really, Like what" Sirius snorted. Big mistake.
You smirked, "You're in love with Remus"
Sirius's eyes widened like saucers, "I - uh- Excuse you, I'm dating Marlene"
"Who's dating Dorcas actually, at first I thought she was just cheating on you but now I realise"
"How did you know"
"I have sources" You didn't, while searching for James's bed, you saw one cvered with scrolls of paper. Inbetween the scrolls laid on Sirius's bed you found Remus's name with a red heart drawn upon it.
"Fine" Sirius sighed, "I won't tell if you won't"
"I need something else too"
"What"
"Teach me how you do your eyeliner"
"Oh my God" Sirius whisper yelled.
"What"
"Prongs is gonna be my brother-in-law"
"What the fu-"
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You crooned at the new black kitten, it was just impossibly tiny. However Regulus glared daggers at it, "What do you think we should name it?"
"Naming it means you'll get attached to it"
"So what"
"No"
"No what, it's so cute"? you said petting it.
"And i'm not?" Regulus blanched realising he said it out loud.
"You are pretty too, Reg, don't worry"
Regulus dscoffed, "I'm prettier"
You laughed, at Regulus's pout before he too broke into a smile. However, to your obliviousness darkness loomed overhead as a dark lord gained more and more power
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French translation : If only we could get the answers to all the questions of our hearts desire.
Taglist : @shycreationdreamland @mp-littlebit @girlbooklover555 @godofstory @misacc08 @starchaser-lily @moonywastakenn @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @skepvids @venomsvl
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readychilledwine · 3 days
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Flight Patterns pt 5
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Summary - After years of hushed whispers and leads, Azriel has finally found Cassian's lost sister, Aerilyn. What he found with her was unexpected, though.
Warnings - injury, mention of Azriel's job, Amarantha, story takes place pre-UTM, loose editing (aka my friend who does my edits is currently arc reading for someone so I am not bugging her until she is done. Liz will catch uncaught errors as she looks with fresh eyes later)
A/N - Did I change how I wanted something to go in this story? Yes. Was it so I could include a starfall scene where *other things* may happen? Also, yes.
P.s. Pieces of You will be out later tonight still. I apologize for the delay. My tiny human was super snuggly last night and today, so her and her many rolls won.
✨️ Series Masterlist ✨️ Rhysand Masterlist ✨️ Master Masterlist ✨️
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Aerilyn felt like she was floating. She wasn't sure what she had been given, or if something had coated the arrows that struck her, but she felt as though she wasn't in her own body, let alone this plane of existence.
She could hear him, though. Hear him whispering to her. It was like he was calling her home, calling her back to him. His voice felt like a tether, pulling her from a pit. “Come back to me,” Aerilyn felt that tug at her heart, felt him in her mind. “Come home to me.”
Mor watched as her fingers twitched, sending the image to Rhysand. “Keep fighting, Ari,” she took Aerilyn's hand in hers. “Come home to us.”
-
Rhysand watched the red-haired general as she studied the male he currently had on his knees. “I do not recognize him.” Lie, Azriel's voice rang through his head, echoing in anger and promising death. She lies.
“Odd,” the High Lord said slowly, “He sang your praises when I asked what he was doing in my court, and all the way up in the Moutains.” The attack leading to Aerilyn's injury had been enough for the High Lord to have Amarantha stopped and held in Hewn City.
He refused to risk her getting beyond that point and restricted her access any further into Night. It had been met by a pout from the general, claiming she was being held despite her being there to bring a message of peace.
Now, her face was a mask of calm and seduction, one Rhysand saw straight through as her shields temporarily dropped in anger of her spies' treason. “I can assure you I do not know who this is or why he had bloodbane weapons with symbols of Hybern.”
Rhys didn't allow his face to shift from the look of indifference he had. She had unknowingly given him knowledge in her slip up, and he sent it immediately to Madja. He, however, didn't give her a single drop of knowledge as Azriel in his shadows swept the spy from the room, dragging the poor male to whatever holding cell Cassian was waiting in.
Cassian had been feral when they came back to Rhys and Amren holding Aerilyn down as she shook, blood pouring from her mouth and nose. Cassian wanted blood in turn for what happened to his sister, and this male would be the last to deliver. “As much as I doubt that to be true, it would be wrong of me to turn you away if your intended purpose is peace negotiating,” Rhys paused as 5 guards appeared. “They will escort you to your chambers for your stay. Until I know for sure there is not someone with alternative motives in your travel party, they will stay where they are.”
Amarantha seemed to smirk with something Rhys figured was glee as she studied his body and face, “Who knew such a pretty thing could be so cruel.”
“You have no idea how cruel I can be.”
Mor had brought Aerilyn to Rhysand's room at the Moonstone Palace. The illyrian female had tucked herself into his bed instantly, curled up and asleep under the power of one of Madja’s tonics to aid with pain. She hardly felt Cassian beside her, plaiting her long dark hair into braids to protect it as she slept. Not that they knew what was in her system, everything clicked into place, allowing Madja to properly treat her.
The inner circle was gathered in the room, discussing the best course of action. Aerilyn would be upset the conversation happened without her again, but it was a risk Rhysand was willing to take to protect her. “I do not want to risk her knowing about my family, especially Aerilyn and the dragons,” Rhys looked towards the window, sighing as he did. “But Keir will quickly reveal the existence of all of you, minus her.”
Rhysand's eyes were locked in his mate's sleeping form, the soft rise and fall of her chest as she took clean deep breaths for the first time in 3 days. He'd sooner sent Aerilyn and her dragons away. Risking Hybern getting to her somehow was too dangerous. Mor sipped her wine, clearing her throat to pull Rhys from his thoughts. “She already knows about me. She knows we are family and I helped the Night Court armies. I can safely go with you.”
Rhys nodded. “Azriel can hide in the shadows.” Az nodded, still wiping blood from his hands as he did. “Did he say anything else?”
The spymaster shrugged. “He cried for his mother,” Azriel felt his lip twitch up slightly, “Nothing has broken him yet, but we know how Hybern tortures their spies to prevent that.”
Rhys nodded, his eyes meeting Cassian's. It was an unspoken command, one that led to Amren and Cassian glancing at each other. The ancient being moved to the other side of Aerilyn. “We will protect our future lady.” Cassian watched Aerilyn's soft smile appear, then the ghost of a whisper of Rhysand's name. “You should spend some time with her, Rhys.”
Rhys shook his head. “I will not risk her scent on me before dinner.”
Cassian held Aerilyn while Rhys entertained the Hybern general. He had no interest in politics or the games right now. His only concern was his sister. He had her tight against him, telling her her favorite bedtime story of a princess who couldn't sleep due to a pea under her mattress. He could remember her laughter, the squeals of delight, as he and their mother would reenact the story to her. It all seemed so distant now. Like memories of a past life.
A defenseless boy stripped from his mother. A girl, barely more than a babe, ripped from her home and left for dead. Had he left a single person in that village alive, it would have felt like poetic justice to him. He would be their commander and general, and his sister Lady Night.
He knew that day would come, the day his sister would have command over him. He was watching her and Rhysand, watching that instant chemistry and attraction blossom. Rhysand loved her at first sight, Cassian and Azriel both knew that based on his anger.
Hybern had been sniffing around for awhile, and Aerilyn appearing when she did complicated things for Rhysand. He now had more than just his court, more than his family, he had a mate. A powerful mate with weapons they would not even be able to use without risking war with the other courts. A mate capable of carrying an illyrian babe. Aerilyn's eyes were no longer hardened when she looked at Rhys. Instead they had softened and were filled with wonder and affection. He had also noticed they were touching each other more. Cuddling in Rhysand's office from time to time.
It was odd how his intuition as a brother should have been to fight Rhysand, to threaten him, but instead, Cassian found himself praying that Aerilyn accepted the bond soon. If she accepted the bond, Cassian would never lose her again. And who better to be her mate than the one male capable of misting armies away to protect her.
Rhysand entered the room late into the Night, sending Cassian and Amren away as he did. He was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to get out of his fine clothing and hold Aerilyn.
He winnowed them back to the cabin, knowing she preferred the Forest to the stonewalls. He prayed the mountain air would help her heal. He began his mission again, wiggling into her dreams and whispering to her, calling to her. He had hoped the command of her high lord would pull her soul back from wherever she was.
The whispering began again in Aerilyn's mind. That pulling being came insistent, ripping her from the darkness she was in into a starlight bathed flower field. Rhys was there, waiting for her as she walked to him, settling next to him among the wildflowers. “Where are we?”
Rhys shrugged, finally looking at her. “I was hoping you could tell me. You created this place after all. It's in your mind.”
Aerilyn looked around, admiring the overgrown grass, the tall florals in bright reds, blues, purples, and whites. She deemed it her safe place. Somewhere she must go in her dreams to relax. She watched the stars racing across the sky, glittering in greens, teals, and soft pinks.
“I did not realize you had witnessed Starfall before,” Rhysand laid back, pulling her with him. “It is my favorite holiday.”
Aerilyn placed a hand on his chest, huddling into his warmth. “I have only read about it.”
“If you wake up, you will see if soon,” he tilted her head towards his, “you have to wake up, though.”
Aerilyn shot awake, hand on her chest as another rough tug rattled her body and mind. Rhysand sat shirtless in front of her, whispering a soft thank you to the Mother. Her hand was instantly on Rhysand's cheek, hazel eyes meeting his as he came closer and put his forehead to hers. “Good morning, Darling.”
What happened next was the last thing he expected, the last thought in his mind. He hardly even had time to react. Aerilyn's hand moved to the back of his neck, pulling him down to her before crashing their lips together in a heated kiss.
Home, she whispered into his mind. You are home.
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Flight Patterns:
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Nameless, Faceless: Part Two
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~2.6k
Summary: Not even four hours after the case in Canada, you're thrown into another one. This time, without Hotch. You have a sinking feeling he's not just blowing you off to get some sleep. There's something wrong.
Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill
Author’s Note: welcome to the first episode of season 5! i hope you enjoy this series just as much as i loved writing it! <3
I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated.
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You arrive at his apartment building in ten minutes and immediately head to the floor his apartment is on. The second you step foot onto the floor, you know something is wrong. The feeling in your stomach hasn't gone away, it gets stronger. You knock on his door but he doesn't come to it.
"Hotch? It's me, Y/N. Are you in there?" you ask and knock again.
You take out your phone and call him but when you hear his phone ring from inside, you know something is wrong. You take out your gun and try the door knob which is unlocked. You push open the door and get hit with a wave of familiar energy--George Foyet's. You walk in slowly and notice a few things off the bat. Hotch's keys and briefcase are still by the front door, his phone is on the kitchen table, and there is a large bloodstain on the floor behind the couch. Upon further examination, there is a gunshot in the wall, tables and chairs are turned over, and Hotch is nowhere to be found.
If Hotch is dead, you would have seen his spirit here. Though, he has been stabbed multiple times by George Foyet. How he got in, you're not sure but the entire attack is played over and over to see exactly what went down between the two men. If you're going to have hope in finding Hotch alive or dead, you need help from someone you know who can track him.
"Overtime shift. Penelope speaking," Pen says when you call her.
"Pen, it's Y/N. I need you to listen really carefully. Something's happened to Hotch."
"What do you mean, something?"
"He's been stabbed. There's blood on the floor but he's not dead. I would have felt him otherwise."
"Oh, my God," she gasps.
"I need you to send police and FBI techs here right away. Everyone available."
"Do we need an APB?"
"Only on Hotch. I saw his car outside."
"Someone took him?"
"Yes, I believe so. There's a lot of blood here and a gunshot in the wall. Just get people here."
"Okay, I'm sending an army."
"Pen, I'm gonna have to tell Spencer because he and Em are expecting me back but you can't tell the others. They cannot be distracted. I'm only telling you and Spencer."
"Okay. I'm calling everyone."
You hang up on her and immediately call Spencer.
"Hey, what's up?"
"Listen, don't tell Emily this but something bad happened to Hotch. He's been stabbed."
"What?"
"He's not here but there is a lot of blood here and I felt Foyet's energy here."
"Wait, what are you talking about?"
"Is that Y/N?" you hear Emily in the background.
"I can't come back but just tell Emily and Dr. Barton that I'm away on an emergency. Don't tell the others. They can't be distracted right now."
"What's going on? Is this about Jeffrey?" Dr. Barton asks.
"No, it's unrelated."
"We only have a few hours left here."
"I'm really sorry, I have to take this phone call, okay?"
"What could be more important than my son right now?"
"I assure you, this will take one second. Please, I promise." Dr. Barton walks away and joins Emily's side to go over the files that Penelope has sent over. "What happened?"
"There's a gunshot hole in the wall. I'm guessing it's a .44 but there isn't any blood or tissue spray around it. Hotch wasn't shot."
"Any idea how he got out?"
"Foyet carried him. Hotch was stabbed but there aren't any blood drops anywhere. His body might have been wrapped in something.
"Is he...?"
"Dead? No. I would have felt him."
"Are bureau techs on the way?"
"Yeah, Penelope called everyone. She's the only one who knows."
"Alright, write down everything you see. We'll profile from your notes when you get back."
"How's Dr. Barton?"
"It's a huge list of cases to go through with him."
"Okay, I've got this here. You have Emily with you. Just stay focused."
"Alright, you too."
"What's wrong?" Emily asks when Spencer hangs up with you.
"Nothing. Y/N's been called away on an emergency not related to the case, but it's fine."
That answer seems to satisfy Emily but not Dr. Barton.
"You've got to be kidding me."
"I'm confident that the three of us can do this together. We know he's been killing Hispanic males as surrogates. Did you separate the case files?"
"Yeah."
"How many of the surgeries fit the criteria?"
"Eight-two."
"Let me ask you this. On how many of those dates did you operate on somebody else as well?" Emily wonders.
"Seventy-five."
"Did any of those patients die on the table?"
"Eleven."
"That's where we start. This whole thing is about choice. He's forcing you to play God with your son because the last time you had a choice, your decision devastated him."
"I'm a doctor. I save people."
"It doesn't matter to him," Emily says. "All that matters to him is that you had an alternative and you didn't take it. Now, how many of those surgeries involve patients under twenty?"
"Six. I get a lot of gunshot wounds, mostly gang-related."
"Has a gang or family member ever threatened you?"
"No. At first, when you lose someone it's mostly confusion and devastation. The anger comes later."
Emily and Spencer go through the case files that fit the criteria and come up with six dates that could have been the trigger for the unsub.
"Alright, we have six dates where you operated on a Hispanic male on the same night a patient under twenty died. What we're gonna do is read the names and dates off to you, and you tell me anything you can remember, okay?"
"Okay," Dr. Barton sighs.
"Let's start with January 22nd. I have Tyler Hayes with multiple gunshot wounds. The next day, Brian Douglas was a hit-and-run victim with a lacerated aorta."
"No, not that one."
"March 15th, Devon Marks who was a heroin overdose, and Angela Harris who is another car accident victim in a single vehicle, bleeding into her brain."
"No, this is no use. I would remember if I was threatened."
"Did any of them ask you about your family?" Dr. Barton looks at the clock that is ticking down. "We have time."
"Okay," he sighs.
He tries not to think about his son and the danger he's in as he recalls the patients he's dealt with. The entire school day has gone by without a hitch but there are still a few hours before school ends. Derek, Rossi, and JJ have been very diligent in making sure Jeffrey and the other students are safe from the unsub.
"I talked to Detective Walker," JJ says, "The final bell is at 3:10. He's gonna have a SWAT unit in place at exactly 3:00 to escort kids out. We'll need you to gather the students at 2:45."
"This could all be happening now," the principal argues.
"If the unsub sees us evacuate early, we feel certain he'll kill another random citizen, and this also buys us a day to try and discover his identity. So, we'll have school buses for evacuation, and teachers can brief parents who are here to pick up their kids."
"The key is to keep Jeffrey isolated and avoid panic with the other students. If we can do that, everybody gets out of here safe," Rossi explains.
"Have you cross-checked all the records of employees in the building against Dr. Barton?"
"Garcia's on it."
Derek calls Penelope who answers eagerly.
"Y/N?"
"No. Sorry, baby girl, just little old me. You're out of luck."
"Right. Sorry."
"Did you finish the background check on everyone in the building?"
"Yeah. There's no red flags, no felonies, and no connection to Barton."
"That's god. Alright, I gotta go. There's about to be a bell."
"Alright. Be safe," she sighs.
"Hey, is everything okay?"
"Yeah, I'm just tired."
"Yeah, I hear you. Let's just get this kid home safe and we can all sleep."
"Right."
As soon as Penelope hung up with Derek, she called multiple hospitals in Virginia in hopes Hotch was in one of them. No one has seen or heard of a man named Aaron Hotchner, though one of the hospitals did have someone named Derek Morgan show up recently. With this news, she immediately calls you.
The FBI techs and police did come quickly while you stayed off to the side and replay what happened over and over again. You're not sure how Foyet got into Hotch's apartment but he waited for him and threatened him with a gun only to shoot the wall. They both got into it and knocked some shit over only for Foyet to stab Hotch multiple times. Every time you replay the scene, it leads to more questions than answers.
How did he get in? Why didn't he kill Hotch? Why stab him and take him to a hospital? Your phone rings and you pick it up when you see it's Penelope calling.
"Hey, what's up?"
"I called hospitals to see if Hotch had gotten himself admitted to an emergency room. He's not listed as a patient but someone dropped a John Doe off at St. Sebastian Hospital, and that someone's name was FBI Agent Derek Morgan."
"Foyet took Derek's credentials."
"Why would he drop him off at the ER?"
"I don't know. I'm headed over there right now. I'll call with an update as soon as I get one."
You quickly send a text to Spencer to let him know what's going on so he doesn't freak out about the state of his boss.
Hotch is in St. Sebastian Hospital. I'm headed over there right now. I'll call when I have an update.
Spencer reads the message as soon as it comes in. He knows Hotch is in good hands if you're the one looking after him.
"Are you sure she's okay?" Emily asks when she notices his worried look.
"Yeah, she's fine. She's just giving me some updates."
"I don't understand. These surgeries are all hours apart. I didn't have to choose between patients. If he's punishing me for my choices, none of these fit," Dr. Barton groans in frustration.
"Alright, look at the note again and compare it against the wording on the charts. A lot of times an unsub will unconsciously mirror the wording of situations." Something suddenly comes to Dr. Barton which is evident in his facial features. "Do you remember something?"
"I don't know. It was right after New Year's. There was a car accident. One of the victims was Hispanic."
"New Year? I have it right here," Emily says. "On January 3rd, there was a two-car collision. You operated on someone named Hector Ledezma. That was your only surgery that night."
"I remember that case. Someone else came in, but I didn't operate on him. His name was Jason Meyers."
Spencer calls Penelope to gather more information on Jason.
"Garcia, I need you to find a patient in the system named Jason Meyers."
"He was admitted on January 3rd on life support. Oh, no. He was taken off the ventilator and declared legally dead three days ago."
"Who is his father?"
"Patrick Meyers, age forty-five."
"Get a photo into the school immediately. I think he's our unsub."
"Okay, it's on its way."
Spencer texts you an update on the current case since you're doing everything you can to take care of Hotch, which you appreciate. You can't do anything about Dr. Barton and his son, but you can find Hotch and figure out what's going to happen to him. As soon as you checked into the hospital, one of the doctors met with you and took you to the room Hotch was in. The second you see him, tears form in your eyes.
"He was stabbed nine times, but no major arteries were hit. It's a miracle he's alive."
"When will he wake up?"
"The anesthesia should wear off within the hour, but he's bound to be out of it."
"May I stay here?"
"Of course."
"Thank you."
The doctor checks a few things before giving you some privacy. You pull up a chair next to his bed and stare at his unconscious body.
"You better not die," you say to him. "This entire BAU is my family and that includes you. Do you hear me, Aaron? Don't die."
You hate lying to your team and hope they're doing okay without you. Hotch's medical chart is hanging off the edge of his bed. Your curiosity makes you read over it as if you're going to understand what most of it means. You're very smart but you're not medically smart. However, the initial L.C. in the top right-hand corner grabs your attention. It's the same initial the unsub left on the note for Dr. Barton. You grab the chart and find the doctor at the nurse's station.
"Excuse me, what does L.C. stand for?"
"Living Children."
"Thank you." You walk back into Hotch's room and call Spencer. "I know what L.C. stands for. Living Children."
"Are you sure?"
"Hotch has it on his medical chart. It's administrative. It's when they're afraid a patient's gonna go on life support and they don't have a DNR order."
"What if the unsub was trying to tell Dr. Barton that he is actually the target and that he's gonna leave his son without a father?" The sound of a door opening catches Spencer's attention. "Barton!"
"What's going on?" There is commotion coming from his end and you hear something that chills you to the bone. A gunshot. "Spencer?" No answer. "Spencer, answer me. Please." Still, no answer and you get tears. "Spencer? I can't lose two people I love. Please answer me." Instead of trying to get him to answer, you hang up and call 911 to report the gunshot. "This is Special Agent Y/N from the FBI. I need police and an ambulance to 120 Kensington Road, Mclean, Virginia. Shots were fired and a federal agent is possibly down."
Spencer lays in front of Dr. Barton with a gunshot wound in his knee from the unsub. The unsub was targeting Dr. Barton but got Spencer instead.
"Are you hit?"
"No."
"Get my gun. Get my gun!" Spencer urges.
Dr. Barton scrambles for the gun before the unsub can fire off another shot. Spencer grabs his gun and points it at the unsub.
"Get away from him!"
"Whatever you do, stay down," Spencer says to Dr. Barton before facing the unsub. "Drop the gun!"
"Don't protect him. He killed my son!" Patrick says emotionally.
"He did not kill your son. Your son was killed in a car accident."
"Stand up!" he yells at your boyfriend.
"I'm gonna ask you again, please drop the gun. I do not want to shoot you."
"Stand up, you coward!"
"Mr. Meyers, listen to me. Dr. Barton did not kill your son. Your son was killed by a car, and this is not what he would want. Okay? So, drop the gun. Please."
His words seem to get through to Patrick because he lowers the gun. Tears are streaming out of his eyes, he looks like he's in so much pain, and he doesn't know who or what to trust. Sirens can be heard from down the street no doubt from the call you made to 911. The unsub raises his gun toward Spencer and Dr. Barton.
"Don't do it."
"I'm sorry."
Before Patrick can fire, Spencer shoots him in a spot that's not fatal. Dr. Barton turns to Spencer to help him but the young doctor waves him off.
"I'm fine. Go to him. Kick his gun away. Make sure his gun is not near him."
Dr. Barton kicks the gun away before assessing the wound on Patrick.
"No, don't touch me. Oh, I want to die. Oh, don't touch me," Patrick weeps.
"I need to stop the bleeding."
"Let me die."
"The medics are almost here. Can you keep him stabilized?" Spencer asks.
"Yes, I think so." Seconds later, the ambulance and police arrive. "Hold on, they're right here. Help is coming, alright?" They get out of their car and rush over with equipment. "We need a backboard and a C-collar. Put pressure on this right here. Call ahead to the ER and tell them they got a GSW to the thoracic cavity, and have him redlined to the OR stat."
"You got it."
"Don't touch me," Patrick cries.
Dr. Barton approaches Spencer and inspects the wound on his knee.
"It looks like it went clean through."
"You might have just saved his life."
"Keep pressure on this, okay?"
The team arrives with Jeffrey, and Spencer nods to the doctor's son.
"I'm good, I'm fine. Go to your son."
Jeffrey and his son embrace in a tight hug while the team joins Spencer's side with worry on their faces.
"Are you okay?" JJ asks.
"Yeah, I'm fine."
"We'll get you to a hospital."
"No, you need to call Y/N. She's at the hospital with Hotch. He's been stabbed by Foyet."
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writeforfandoms · 20 hours
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Shatter Me 14
Find the series masterlist
We're finally back with these three! A little more reprieve before things happen.
Warnings: Fluff, yearning, Grogu is an adorable menace, none of them know how to process emotions.
Word count: 1.3k
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The Crest settled down on a flat grassy area, well away from anything. The sun was still shining, though it was lower in the sky now. 
Mando waved off your offer to help him move a couple things around, leaving you in charge of Grogu. Grogu, of course, was more than content with this arrangement, toddling off as fast as he could and nearly vanishing into the tall grass. With a soft laugh, you took off after him, shaking your head.
The grass tickled your hands as you reached down to scoop up Grogu, foreign and wonderful. 
"Look at it all," you whispered to Grogu, holding him up so he had a better view. "Isn't it beautiful? All this green?" 
He cooed softly, one hand gripping your thumb, ears wiggling. Then he started wiggling around, making little grunts. You blinked but set him down, watching as he started towards a small creek that ran through the clearing. He crouched down and then pounced on something. You were so startled you didn't even try to stop him, just watching as he lifted what looked like a blue frog, stuffing it in his mouth. 
"Kid." The voice behind you made you jump.
Grogu turned and blinked at Mando, doing his best to look completely innocent… with a pair of blue legs still sticking out of his mouth. 
Mando just sighed and shook his head. "That better not make you sick." 
Grogu swallowed down the rest of the frog and then burbled up at you both, looking quite pleased with himself. You smiled and shook your head.
“Guess he’s set for dinner,” you mused. “Oh! I nearly forgot. We got some treats at the market.”
Mando looked at you, head tipping just a little. “Treats?”
Grinning, you went back to the ship to grab your shopping bag and produced the cookies with a triumphant noise. “Do you want to eat them now or after dinner? I’ll keep Grogu out here so you can have your privacy.” 
“After,” Mando decided, shaking his head a little. “Help me with the fire.”
It didn’t take long for the two of you to form a ring of rocks, although it did take a little longer to find enough wood to burn. There wasn’t a ton of it around, but, well… Mando might have helped a branch fall to the ground for you to use. 
Grogu was falling asleep near the fire by the time you had dinner ready for yourself and Mando, and you kept the kid in your lap as you ate. Mando took his food and retreated somewhere into the ship, you didn’t even try to find out where. 
And then you sat and watched the remains of the sunset, pinks and lavenders highlighting the slowly-darkening sky. Grogu leaned back against you, snoring softly, a comfortable warm weight against you. 
“You could stay.” 
The only reason you didn’t jump out of your skin was because you’d seen him out of the corner of your eye. Mando sat next to you, and you turned your head to look at him. A brush of pastel pink splashed across the helmet, making you smile a little. 
“Here, you mean?” 
“Yes.” 
You shrugged, leaning back just a little, adjusting Grogu in your lap. “I mean… I suppose I could. But…” You trailed off, tipping your head back to look at the sky. 
“But?” he asked gently after a few long moments of silence. 
“I don’t… trust easily. Anymore.” You shifted your weight carefully. It was easier not to look at him. “The only reason I was okay in Mos Eisley is because of Peli. I don’t think I could just… settle somewhere I don’t know anyone.” 
He nodded slowly, following your lead in looking up at the sky. 
“Besides,” you said with forced cheer, “I don’t wanna leave you and the kid right now. I want to make sure he gets to where he’s going safely.” 
Mando was quiet at that, though you saw the helmet turn to you. “You really care about him.”
“I do.” You couldn’t help smiling down at the kid. “I’ve always liked kids, and he is special. In more ways than one.” 
Mando was quiet then, letting the silence settle between you. You calmed again, no longer quite so anxious now that the topic had been dropped. The colors faded from the sky, leaving only deep blue that slowly bled black. 
“Thank you,” you murmured finally. “For this.” You smiled up at the sky. 
Mando snorted softly under the helmet. “Get some sleep,” he said instead, rising to his feet. A moment later, a few things landed next to you, and he disappeared back into the ship with one last glint of firelight on the beskar. 
A little investigation showed the bundle to be a pillow, a bedroll, and a blanket. It didn’t take you long to get yourself and the child situated by the fire, still just outside the ship. Just in case. Grogu snored softly the entire time, hogging most of the pillow. You just smiled and pulled the blankets a little higher. They smelled faintly of… something. Something different. But it was nice. 
It didn’t take long to fall asleep there, warmed by the fire and by Grogu latching onto your ear. 
You woke to soft chuckles, blinking yourself awake. Sunlight blinded you briefly, making you swear softly and squint. You started to turn your head away from the light, and then froze. Something tugged at your hair, something else under your cheek. You blinked again and cautiously moved your head. There was a soft grumble from the top of your head and another tug to your hair. 
What…? 
“The kid is stuck in your hair.” Mando moved closer, upside-down from your view. “I’ll get him.”
“Oh.” You held still as Mando gently picked up Grogu, untangling little fingers from your hair. Then you rolled to the side and sat up. The fire had gone out during the night, and if you had to guess you’d say it was still early. “Time to go?”
Mando nodded once before carrying Grogu back inside. You watched him go and then smiled. 
This had been a welcome interlude, and you were grateful for it. 
You had things packed up again before Mando returned, and helped him get everything back into the ship. You were both quiet as you worked, and once everything was ready, you followed him up to the cockpit. 
Watching him go through the motions of taking off was almost comforting in its growing familiarity. The ship left the ground, and you leaned back in your seat as his hands confidently guided the ship up through atmo and back into space. 
He did his computations while you watched, and then made the jump. 
“How long this time?” you asked, curious. 
Mando shrugged. “A while,” he said, not glancing back at you as he settled in his seat. “At least a standard day and a half.” 
You nodded and relaxed back into your chair as well. The cockpit was quiet but for the occasional beeps from the navcomp or creaks of the ship. It was peaceful. 
Part of you wanted this peace to last forever. To just sit here in quiet with this man for the rest of your days, to keep the child with you, to teach him more games and songs and tools. 
But no. You’d never been that lucky as to keep something good. 
Mando left the cockpit after a while, and you could hear him moving downstairs in the hold, then the coos and murmurs from the child. You tipped your head back, looking at the streaks of the stars above you. 
No. You wouldn’t get lucky enough for this to last. You never were.
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chuluoyi · 7 months
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fear
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- gojo satoru x reader
his best friend’s defection is still a hard topic for him to swallow, and it leads into an unexpected argument that spurs you to leave, only to unlock a new fear in him when you get into an unfortunate accident afterwards.
genre/warnings: angst, gojo being mean, one scene with a worried nanami *wink*, injured reader, hurt/comfort, fluff in the end
notes: *sigh* my coping mechanism is still gojo’s past arc, which is why this piece takes place on that timeline. just a little context: reader is in the same class with nanami & haibara and was in the same mission that took haibara's life. this is probably the longest oneshot i've written so far sooo… enjoy! :)
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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A year and a half had passed since Suguru embarked on his path as a curse user. In that one year and a half, Satoru had finished his last year at Jujutsu High, and now was in the halls of his alma mater, speaking to the newly appointed headmaster who was none other than his teacher.
"You're applying to become a teacher?" Yaga asked again with a frown. He still couldn't wrap his head around it. Granted, he was his most troublesome pupil. "Why, Satoru?"
"If I said it's because I want to train young sorcerers to be strong, would you believe me?"
That was not a lie. It was actually 50% of his main reasons anyway. The other 50% was to repent what he missed with Suguru when he chose his dark path—his contempt with the current system of this jujutsu world.
"I would," Yaga responded gruffly. To him, Satoru was irritating, but he also knew that he was also extremely capable, and thus everything he did wasn't just out of nowhere. "But you still have to submit your applications. We can't make an exception even if you come from a prestigious clan."
"That's fine with me," he grinned. "Thanks, sensei."
On summer days, he'd get reminded of Suguru and silly things they had done together. Eating shaved ice, cycling together, driving either you, Shoko or Nanami mad. Satoru missed those days, it hadn't been the same ever since. Not knowing if his best friend was alright—if he was still alive at all—was exhausting.
Sometimes, he felt like he was the only one who was affected by his departure, the only one who stayed right where Suguru left him. Shoko didn't seem ruffled, if anything she just went to more bars and pachinko parlors as of late. Nanami was always a recluse, he never disclosed his feelings. You mourned him, but it was clear that most part of you would always be more focused on Haibara's death.
Satoru understood that he couldn't force anyone to feel what he felt, and he had no right to. But sometimes, he just wanted someone to connect with at his level. Someone to get him just like Suguru did.
And so when he got back to his condo that night—just right next to the one he rented for Megumi and Tsumiki, since he had moved out of his dorm—to find his girlfriend there with a big smile and a tray of cupcakes, unaware of everything and anything, he merely scoffed to himself.
"Satoru, you're back," you acknowledged, beaming like the sunshine you were. "I just baked these for the kids. Do you want some?"
Usually he'd smother you, throw some pickup lines here and there and say yes, but today, he just felt drained. "No." And with that, he stalked away to the bathroom, not glancing back at you.
It was wrong. But tonight he just wanted some peace and quiet, and so keeping his silence seemed to be the best choice as he didn't want to start a pointless argument with you. But you weren’t anything but observant, and definitely noticed that something was amiss with him.
"Are you... alright?" You approached him warily after he came out of the bathroom with wet hair. "Where were you today?"
"Just somewhere," he replied curtly. Afterwards he turned on the hairdryer, drowning the whole place with the noise even as you stood behind him with a visible question mark.
But you were still there after he dried his hair. "Is something bothering you?" you asked with a tilt of your head, concerned. By all means, you mean well. You just wanted to know if he could use your help at all.
When you pulled that expression, he couldn't help feeling annoyed, like he wanted you to take a hint, but you just didn't. "If you know, then just shut it."
It was probably the first time since the two of you got together that Satoru actually said something harsh. But you still tried to be reasonable though, bless you.
"Satoru, I don't know what got into your nerves like this, but I think sleeping through it might help. Have a rest."
"Why are you talking as if you know it?" he snapped, finally turning to you with his cold gaze. "You might not know anything, so don't be a know-it-all. Just mind your own business."
Now you were frustrated with his reply. "Once again, I don't know what happened to you. But if you're taking it out on me because I'm the closest you have—"
"Who said that?" Satoru didn't know where he got all this venom from. It was just at the forefront of his mind and he just got the urge to spew it. "You're considering yourself closest to me? Where did you get that big head from?"
You were aghast, and you blinked a few times to get your bearings. "Let me guess, it's about Geto-san, isn't it? Or the higher ups. Either of that must be what causing you to blindly place your anger on me."
"So what if it was? It isn't like you'll understand anyway."
"Satoru," you started, trying to even your breathing. "What happened to Geto-san isn't your fault. I've been telling you this. It can't be helped—"
"Can't be helped?" he jeered. "Do you know why it has come to this?" his tone took a dangerous edge as he stepped closer. He reached for you, grasping your wrist.
"Maybe because I was too blind back then. If it weren't for you—if only I didn't spend that much time on you, maybe he would still be here."
Did he just say that? Did he just imply that he had regretted the two of you getting together?
You felt your lower lip start to tremble and something seemed to obscure and blur your vision, making it hard to see him clearly. "You... don't mean that."
"Really?" the corner of his lips curled into a disparaging smile. "You never know. Before you know it, this can be over already. After all, I could have anyone out there that I want. Maybe someone less nosey than—”
That did it. You wrenched your arm out of his grip violently, as your first tear fell. His smirk vanished too, replaced with a total stillness to cover his sudden panic that was followed by a sudden sinking feeling at the pit of his stomach.
"You selfish, self-obsessed jerk," you hissed through watery eyes. He was taken aback, even amidst your anger and possible fear of him, your still managed to throw daggers at him. "Fine. You have it. I'll see myself out."
Satoru never wanted you to leave. Honestly, he would've made you stay. But he wasn't in the right state of mind and it was too late to take back what he said. He didn't want to mess this up even further.
You left the cupcakes, even throwing it away just to spite him. Driven by pain and humiliation, you choked back your sob and didn't spare a glance at him as you shut the door.
Peace and quiet. There he had it, he thought as he clenched his fists, at the cost of everything else.
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Leaving that condo, every step you took felt like needles piercing your shattered heart. You wiped your tears roughly. No, you refused to cry over such asshole. He made it clear, didn't he? Whatever it was that you two shared, it was at the cost of his best friend leaving him. So now the blame was on you.
If you were thinking clearly, you would've understood that his words were likely a result of his own pent-up pain and frustration that he had kept to himself for some while. But you had no patience for that or even pinpoint what you felt right now—anger, disappointment or dread, or perhaps all three. You just felt wrongly accused.
Your feet brought you back to your dorm in the school. Now it wasn't as bustling as it once were. After Satoru and Shoko's graduation, you didn't really get close to anyone. There was Ichiji, but he treated you more like a mentor rather than a classmate.
As you sank into the comforts of your bed, You replayed the events, trying to find where it went wrong—and found nothing. After all, you had already said all that could be said. It wasn't just him who lost Geto, but you, Shoko and Nanami did too, but it was more convenient for Satoru to blame everyone else rather than trying to understand that they too shared this pain.
Nevertheless, you were disappointed. You didn't expect half of what he spouted, and it got you doubting everything you had.
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"You've royally fucked up."
Satoru exhaled, glaring at Shoko through the corner of his eyes. "Yeah, maybe."
The reverse cursed technique user threw him a blank stare, taking in everything from his disheveled hair to his wrinkled trousers. "Gojo, as much as I can’t care less about your sorry ass, I'm saying this not out of concern for you, but rather for Y/N. You are an asshole."
The puff of smoke she blew expanded to create a cloud-like shape. "Yaga-sensei was our teacher. His student is now a mass murderer and wanted dead. Can you even imagine how he feels? And I can't believe I'm saying this—but weren't there three of us?"
A week had gone by and instead of doing the right thing like trying to get into your good graces, Satoru was in Shoko's infirmary in the headquarters instead. He didn't exactly know what he was looking for by going here. Maybe some lingering taste of his happier student days, and Shoko was the only one remaining.
Three of us, huh... she was right. That was precisely why he came here after all.
"You're just sulking because it seems no one cares about your best friend being the best there is. But have you thought about how our juniors also lost Haibara? Right in front of their eyes? Haibara was our friend too."
He was wrong, of course he was. Satoru realized that now. But it felt wrong to ask for your forgiveness now, not to mention the disrupting thought he had—should he let you go for good altogether?
The phone suddenly rang with such fervor that made Shoko utter a swear word. She was on call duty for the rescue team today, and it was supposedly a peaceful day until Satoru decided to barge in to become her company. "Hello? Ichiji? What—speak clearly, I can't hear you."
She switched it to loudspeaker. "...iri-san! Ieiri-san—h-help—please—"
It was noisy, and blaring at the same time, and Ichiji was... Sobbing? Choking? His voice was terribly muffled and—
"L/N-san!" he cried, and Satoru remembered at that moment that you should be in a mission with Ichiji, he remembered you telling him before.
"Hic—s-she fell... hic—she fell! B-blood! She i-is bleeding so much! I-Ieiri-san—hic—s-send help! Please!"
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"Hey, stay awake. Breathe. Just breathe."
Everything hurt. Most notably, your head. You could hardly think straight when all you felt was blinding pain and how your breaths came in short wheezes. 
Your vision was blurry. The numbness had started to set in and chills ran up and down your spine. You couldn't make out who in front of you was. Was it Ichiji, who went with you in this mission? The only thing that glared was blue.
"You can't sleep, you hear me?" the voice was commanding, willing you to do his bidding. It was familiar, but usually his tone of voice was much lighter, happier.
Satoru.
But why was he here? He wasn't in this mission. It was supposed to be a mission for you and Ichiji.
You remembered getting the cursed spirit after manifesting your domain expansion, until in its last ditch attempt, it went after Ichiji. You had no choice—even when your cursed energy had burned out, you still shoved him away at the cost of being flung from the top of a building.
Not again. Not after Haibara. You’d gladly pay the price if it meant you didn't have to see anyone die in front of you again.
"I..." You managed to croak out—breathing hurt, and you felt your hands being grasped tightly.
"Hey, just breathe. Y/N. Look at me.” Through your blurry haze, you focused on that cold blue, and you saw him. Satoru's sharp eyes, pursed lips and frown. He's really here.
Satoru always said that if there was a cursed spirit apocalypse, then Ichiji would be the first to die. You used to scold him for that, but now as you a laid here possibly dying in your own pool of blood, you found it to be true.
Yet at the same time you knew that with him here, Ichiji must be safe already, and it gave you reassurance so great even when you were on the verge of dying. "I... can't..."
"Yes, you can. Just look at me," he firmly rebuked, his voice came out in a hiss. For all the time you had been with him, you had never heard him so forceful. "If you close your eyes now, I won't forgive you. So please, just hang in there."
It was a struggle to take in any air and darkness encroached on your vision as your consciousness began slipping away.
And everything faded to nothingness.
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Satoru honestly thought he had no fears. His worst fear had fully realized after all—Suguru going away into the darkness. What more could he possibly fear?
But when he heard Ichiji's distress call for rescue team, about how you fell from a rooftop of a building and unconscious, he realized that it was a fear he didn't know existed. His mind got disoriented and he teleported to the scene on impulse. He just had to see it for himself. With their petty argument still lacking closure, he felt even worse.
And the sight before him gave him so much fright he never thought was possible.
It was a mistake, he should have brought Shoko along.
You had laid there like a broken doll, your eyes dimmed, and not been able to breathe. He desperately tried to keep you awake, his presence beside you, yet it didn't seem to matter. He watched helplessly as you passed out in his arms.
Satoru felt nothing. The panic that had set in was suddenly gone as your limp body slumped against him, replaced by incessant ringing in his ears and tremor wracking his nervous system. It wasn't long until the rescue team came to retrieve you and even then he still felt numb. He rejected the idea that you might possibly die on him.
That went on until Shoko, who assisted in the emergency treatment, came out of the surgery, sweat on her forehead.
"It's even worse than the aftermath of the guardian deity mission last year," Shoko explained with a grim expression. "Her brain has sustained damage and it affects everything. It may take her quite a while before she can go back to the field."
When she said that, Satoru felt terror washed over him again. You almost died—was all he perceived.
The two of you had no contact for a week just because of his ego. He could still recall that day with vivid clarity, feeling a burning ache in his chest. If someone were to ask him what heartbreak was like, now he certainly would he able the to tell them the two instances in which he experienced them. What he felt now mirrored the same stinging sensation he had felt when Suguru left him.
He visited you when he was allowed to, and you were still unconscious, with many machines connected to your body. It was a sight he still couldn’t bring himself to get used to. He had seen you injured before, but never seen you in your own pool of blood, so this made him feel sick to his stomach.
"Stupid," he whispered, gently rubbing your forehead. His eyes remained fixated on you as you rested, his insides still churning with emotions. "You're not weak, and you're not hopeless." Once upon a time, Satoru might have thought of you as weak, but now he knew better.
"So why you always pick the worst decision?" The more he thought this could've been avoided, the more irked he was. The thought that he could have done something to prevent it intensified the sting of guilt, and he continued to punish himself with it.
And the more he dwelled on the idea that he had hurt you prior to this, the tighter his breath became.
But that was who you were. Self-sacrificing to a fault. And he loved you for that. There was no way of him letting you go now.
It astonished even himself—that he was capable of this love thing. At first it was an attraction, but now that you had been going on for more than a year, it felt like it was no longer a silly infatuation after all.
"Hurry and wake up, will you?" Satoru gently brushed your hair aside, his eyes fixed on you. He didn't know it even as his gut twisted, his frown deepened and his touch quivered, that he was worried sick. "I have a lot to make up for."
And he left you with a tender brush of his lips against your forehead.
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Nanami Kento was the first person you saw when you awoke from coma.
You struggled to regain your senses, still feeling absolutely broken. The dull throb on the back of your head was still there, and as if you had found yourself trapped in a fog, you were only able to move sluggishly.
"You're awake?" his gruff voice greeted, laced with concern. In his hand were a bucket of fresh flowers and fruits basket, which he soon placed at the table next to your bed.
It was unexpected, because ever since the tragedy that costed Haibara's life, the two of you had been drifting apart.
You nodded, and let out a hum in response—all you could manage at the moment.
"Thank God." Nanami sounded relieved as he pinched the bridge between his eyes, and you were moved that he had shown this degree of concern.
Your remaining classmate, who suffered the burden of Haibara's life just like you. He was always quiet or brooding somewhere, hiding his own feelings.
You felt tears pricking the corner of your eyes. The fact that he visited you meant that he hadn't decided to cut you out of his life yet.
"Gojo-san is out today, but he'll be back by afternoon," he said, mistranslating your tears as some sort of a want to have your annoying—ex?—boyfriend at your side.
The two of you were still not on talking terms, weren’t you?
You so badly wanted to say thank you to him—and tell him that no, you weren't looking for Satoru—but it came out hoarse and barely above a whisper.
"Huh?" Nanami then realized what you were trying to say, and a faint smile graced his lips. "Just... get well soon, L/N. Have a good rest."
Just before you drifted back to sleep, you could hear him sigh and mutter, "Hello, Gojo-san? L/N has awakened. Just letting you know is all.”
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You weren't sure how much time had passed when you woke up the second time, but the curtains were already drawn and only darkness came from the window. Your body felt lighter, but you still felt like a mess and and couldn't help but groan in discomfort.
Satoru was there, he perked up at the noise you made. And you realized that it was the first time in about a week that he faced you after that disasterous almost-breakup.
He walked up to you, his expression was more hopeful than you had ever seen him before, like a kid whose wish had been granted. He slowly shifted to sit beside you.
"Hey, welcome back." His voice was soft. It was a change of pace for him, as you were used to seeing him all loud and silly.
Now your voice no longer sounds like a lead. "Hey."
"How are you feeling?" he asked and you took a moment to look at him. He was smiling, but exhaustion reached his bright eyes, dimming them. "You know, with the whole you passing out and almost dying thing?"
His words were almost humorous as he spoke, like he didn't know what else to say except try to lighten the mood, but there was also a strain on his tone, like he was holding back.
"I'm quite fine now, I suppose..." You still felt the lingering pain and dizziness as you slowly sat up. Satoru reached out to steady you—and you realized how his fingers trembled when they made contact with your body—as his brows furrowed with worry when you winced.
"You don't look like it though." His voice dropped and the humor was gone, replaced by this haunted look. You blinked. It was probably the first time you had seem him this ruffled.
He immediately pulled you into a hug, cradling your head to his neck gently, as if to protect and shield you from the world altogether. Exhaling heavily, he leaned on you. "You scared me, you know that?"
You wondered out loud if you really had that hold over him. "Did I?"
"You can't do that to me, you hear?" Satoru stroked your hair, nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck. His voice quivered. “Don't ever do that again.”
He pulled you tighter against him, but still careful not to crush you.
You let out a snicker, letting go of everything you felt during this horrible week. "Heh, afraid to lose me, huh?"
"Shut up,” he grumbled. “What were you thinking anyway? How did you calculate that freefalling is better than letting that cursed spirit attack Ichiji?”
"He was defenseless. He could die, you know that."
"And you also can," he quipped, upset, pulling away enough to look you squarely in the eyes, his eyes devoid of any expression, yet filled with a raging wave that you could only interpret as undiluted concern.
The emphasis in his tone made you recoil and feel guilty. If you were in his shoes, you probably would've said the same thing and so you had nothing to say to that.
But the more pressing agenda in the list was the unspoken silent treatment the two of you saw fit to use against each other for the last few days. Satoru was the one who decided to address it first.
"About that night..." he faltered, looking away. "I didn't mean what I said. I'm sorry."
Satoru always had trouble processing emotions. This time too. He must've a hard time dealing with the anxiety caused by the possibility of him losing you for good, no matter how much he tried to be unaware of it.
"..." You wanted to respond, to make him understand your point, but somehow right now you were just too weary. And he sensed your reluctance. So you blurted the first thing that gnawed at your mind.
“You said you could have any other women out there—”
"No, really—" he started to panic, and it was blatantly too, which surprised you. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Us. I don't regret anything. I’m not breaking up with you. Being with you is the happiest I've been ever since Suguru left."
“That's...” you blinked, before letting out a small sigh. “Okay. Fine then. Let's just put it behind us for now.”
“I—” he almost wheezed, his bright blue eyes were overtaken with sheer urgency to explain how wrong everything had been that night. “You must know that I didn’t mean any of it. And that I hate hurting you the way I did. I won’t—”
"Satoru, I understand," you let out another sigh, fidgeting with your fingers. "Sometimes when I’m reminded of Haibara, I also get sad. I don't want to presume but I think I know how you feel. Just next time, maybe," you shifted your gaze on him, seeing how you had his attention fully. Gojo Satoru, the strongest now, was looking at you as if you had his fate in your hands. "Just tell me if you need space and I would have understood."
"Yeah, okay, sure," he responded immediately, relieved, before a lopsided grin appeared on his face, turning him back into your dork slash boyfriend. "So, am I forgiven now?"
"A thank you would be nice."
In the end, he chuckled, seemingly resigned. "You should sleep more."
He positioned himself into bed next to you, and you let him pull you into his chest again. You could feel how his taut back started to relax upon the contact. He pressed his lips on your forehead in a fleeting kiss.
"Promise me you won't pull that stunt again.”
You smirked. "I can't. What if Ichiji—"
"Then just let him die."
You swatted his arm playfully, pressing your head to his chest as he continued to run his fingers on your hair. He cushioned you carefully, and you felt the tension in him slowly melt away with each breath you took. In your mind, you figured he needed this closeness more than you did, if anything, for the sake of his sanity.
“I love you,” he whispered by your ear, kissing it lightly.
“Mmhm.”
As you felt Satoru's calming presence, it helped ease you into slumber. You soon found yourself in a deep sleep, comfortably held in his embrace.
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Epilogue
Ichiji gulped as Satoru stared him down, sizing him up as if he was the most despicable creature on this planet.
Okay, he might be. He was a coward, all he could do was trembling in the face of evil. But he had come in peace, even bringing fruits as an offering! He felt bad too that he was the partial cause for you to be this injured.
He was used to Satoru terrorizing him—calling him names, slapping him, and whatnot—and he could take it. Just this time, he really looked like he could murder him on the spot if he wanted to. A small part of Ichiji mourned that you were his girlfriend, because that pretty much sealed his fate that Gojo Satoru could indeed murder him on the spot because he had a valid enough reason to.
"You are—"
"No! I'm sorry, Gojo-san! I'm sorry for my incompetence!"
"Hah?"
If he was mildly irked before, now Satoru was visibly irritated.
"You're not cut out to be a jujutsu sorcerer," he started. "You're useless. You just get in the way most of the time."
Ichiji kept his head down. No, no. He can't cry!
"Get your driving license or I'll slap the shit out of you."
"Oh?" and before he knew it, Satoru had stalked away, leaving him in the dust. How rude! But...
Get a driver license? Quit the jujutsu work?
Hey, that sounds like something I can do!
8K notes · View notes
wandagcre · 6 months
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it's a trap (when you act like that) | wanda maximoff 🔞
(College!Perv!Best friend Wanda Maximoff x Innocent!Fem Reader)
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You cannot quite relate to the topic of pleasure. Being introverted and shy, your circle of people was limited, but you're more than grateful that Wanda - your best friend - is always there to help you out.
WARNING: corruption kink, pillow riding, first times, fingering, praise, wanda talking you through it - not proofread +18 / men & minors dni. Words: 4.2k
[perv!wanda series] | [masterlist]
For an hour, you settled on reading in comfortable silence with your best friend. Wanda laid on your lap comfortably, unlike you, she gave up skimming on her notes a few minutes ago. 
You giggle each time you catch her gaze on you. It was inquisitive and sometimes Wanda made silly faces. Thoughtful as ever, she’d pop in some candy in your mouth.
Her auburn hair grew out – instead, her brunette tresses were back. It was tempting for you the way they were sprawled out, wanting to comb them with your fingers and drop your notes – only having to listen to what stories your best friend would tell.
Lately, you noticed it’s been hard to be around Wanda. You can no longer hold her gaze than usual and you physically want to be closer to her – which was no problem because your best friend was always attentive and touchy with you. 
“Have you been working out? Look at these thighs,” You sharply inhaled as you felt fingertips, running feather-like on your skin. Wanda caught the act and it made her giggle softly. 
You shyly shook your head. “N-no. I haven’t.” 
She seemed not to buy your response. It’s the truth. Even if you indulged in some exercises, your workout routine was not strict about any type of weight lifting. Not like you had the time and all. In fact, it was one of the things that sometimes pulled you into your insecure thoughts, thinking that you’ve got an unattractive pair.
However, Wanda loves them as they were. She liked it when you got experimental with your wardrobe, changing it up with some short skirts that highlighted your legs and its curves. More so with your comfort in plain shorts, as it rewarded your best friend more of its exposure.
What Wanda didn’t like was winter and how it took away the sight of your gorgeous thighs. 
You insisted, “I’m serious! If you consider getting food from the top and bottom shelf of the fridge as squatting, then, my answer is yes.”
“Well, they look good to me. Keep it up.” Wanda playfully remarked. You chuckled lightly, not trusting your voice at the moment. “Want me to pull away?” 
Her voice was hypnotizing – insanely soothing. Almost like a balm, you’d say. Enough to make you re-read the damn sentence on your notes because you barely understood them. It doesn’t help that she kept her ministrations – tracing circular patterns that ascend to your inner thighs, causing goosebumps to wake.
“Took me by surprise, that's all. You can keep doing that if you want.”
“Is it relaxing?” Wanda whispered.
You shudder a bit and it made you scuffle in your position. “Kinda like you playing with my hair…”
Wanda was amused. You briefly wondered what was the joy in this – riling you up in some way. Were your reactions too entertaining? She had always been full of mischief, but lately, hanging out with your best friend made you…tense. It was not uncomfortable in a way that her actions burned, maybe they did, but in a different context. A realm you’ve never touched on – spurring you to confusion furthermore.
Her forefinger grazed over the space between your eyebrows. “What’s got you all so worked up, honey? You got this crease going on – you’re too tense. Wanna take a break?”
“Okay, yeah. That sounds nice.” You gave in. You couldn’t even process them anyway. 
You still appeared as bothered from Wanda’s point of view. She moved away from laying down between your thighs, looking at you who refused to meet her eyes. She was growing concerned. Had she overstepped this time?
Wanda was clueless. “Are you seeing someone?”
You looked incredulously at the woman.
“That’s out of the blue, Wands.”
“Can’t blame a girl for asking, (y/n/n). You’re usually reserved, I get that, but lately you seem to be always in deep thought? You know I can help, right?”
“I-I want to tell you but it can get weird.”
“Weird? Baby, we’ve known each other for years. How worse can it possibly get?” Wanda asked incredulously. Now she was concerned.
There’s nothing to hide. Wanda had a point, you thought. 
You whisper, “Lately, um. I-I’ve been trying to discover something.”
“Okay…” Wanda hummed, eyes focused on your lips.
You weren’t hesitant out of fear of being judged, but you didn’t know where your boundaries stood. 
Although, you remember how Wanda was so thoughtful that every time you bought some undies, she volunteers to come along and when you ask for her opinion, she carefully takes time to examine them. 
You remember her fingers tracing along the seams, making you turn around, asking for permission to touch so she can examine the material further around your butt and how it clung to your hips. They shouldn’t be tight, Wanda said.
“And it’s about pleasure. You know, that stuff.” You flail your hands. Can this get more embarrassing?
Meanwhile, Wanda was absolutely having the time of her life. She couldn't believe that this was happening. Of course, as the role of best friend, she would be very ecstatic to lead you.
She starts with a lilt of teasing in voice. “Sorry, honey, but there’s many things that can go around the topic of pleasure. I’m going to need you to elaborate.”
Poor you, didn’t even catch up to her teasing. You had enough.
“Touching the southern part!” You blurt out.
“Oh!”
“Yeah,”
“Huh.” Wanda looked inquisitive. Her head tilted to the side in faux wonder. In truth, she was thinking of ways to help you – defile you in this very bed – if she’s sly enough.
You groaned. Maybe this was a bad idea. 
“See, now it’s weird. I shouldn’t have-”
“No, no. It’s not weird. In fact, it’s normal to be curious about that. What’s your problem with it?”
“I don’t think I’m doing it right. I feel bad because I heard discussions about it – overheard some girls from my class. It’s all the hype I can’t get onto– I just don’t seem to get there–” 
You were rambling all things at once. Wanda had to process the thought of you touching yourself and getting frustrated, of course you wouldn’t know. You needed her – someone to get through it.
And Wanda was more than willing to step up.
With a glint in her eye, she suggests, “Want me to help you?”
Were you hearing things right? Surely, you misheard Wanda. Your mind couldn’t wrap the thought of it. How on earth can she help you? Maybe she’ll write them down or give you a video that wasn’t too explicit as porn. She knew that you hated them, after all. 
“You–won’t that be weird between us? And how?”
“Don’t even think about that. It’s me, honey. You can always count on me. Even about these types of situations. Do you trust me?”
You answered in a heartbeat. “More than anyone.”
“Good. What do you think, do you wanna get started?”
Right now? Your eyes widened. But there won’t be another time, you suppose. “Shit. Okay, yeah, sure.”
“We’ll take things slow, hm?” She bit her lip, trying to contain her excitement. Seeing you all bare for her – Wanda might as well cum at the mere thought of it. The way you nodded attentively made her stomach flip. “We’re going to test the waters. Since you’re having trouble with your fingers, we can do that later. Maybe we’ll try a different approach.”
Your cheeks burned at Wanda’s elaborate plan. “O-okay. I’ll listen to you.”
Wanda purses her lips and moves closer to you. You looked apprehensive, but not as much previously. Good.
“Have you ever heard about riding a pillow?”
“N-no…” You meekly answered. Porn was straight to the point. Too uncomfortable for your liking. It was penetration and done. You tried watching one or two, then that was it – you never thought about revisiting and looking further beyond that. “That’s a thing?”
Wanda, however, couldn’t help but scoot closer to you. How she was very elated to hear this – the woman couldn’t wait to introduce more things to you in the future, to be the one showing you the ropes of it.
“Yes it is. Some find it very rewarding. It’s so easy. ” She supplements.
Out of curiosity, you cannot filter yourself. “What about you… have you ever?”
“Yeah, I have.” She smoothly replied. Wanda was so self-assured, you can’t help but envy it a little. “And don’t worry, I’ll be guiding you at every step of the way, honey. Exploration of what you like and how it works is nothing to be ashamed of.”
It did the trick for you; Wanda picked up a relief sigh coming out of you. She smiled, rubbing your thighs enough to create a comfortable warmth.
“Use my pillow – don’t worry, it’s easy to get them washed.” Your movements were slow and hesitant, continuously looking back and forth to Wanda’s piercing green eyes and to her pillow innocently hanging at the corner of her bed. Grabbing the item, she shoots you a proud smile. “Now, take your bottoms off for me.” 
For Wanda. You felt the heat creep from your stomach, riding in waves, up to your neck and whole face. She nudges you by nodding her head. You’re entirely sure that you’re beyond stunned right now. Discarding your shorts and underwear at the same time, you quickly throw them away and cross your thighs. Wanda’s words being uttered in an authoritative and raunchy manner was enough to make you wet – you didn’t want her to see the proof of that.
“So good. You’re doing so, so well baby.” Wanda licked her bottom lip in anticipation. “Now, flip that pillow by its seams – the edges are an important part of this. Then, just mount it.”
Your heart raced – you can’t believe that this was happening – you’re about to ride a pillow in front of your attractive best friend and she’ll talk you through your first orgasm. Right here in her own cramped bed and pillow. Doing as Wanda says, you spread your legs apart and mounted the pillow that stood by its edges. You gasped at the sensation; it was the softest thing your core has ever touched and it was slightly cold.
Looking back at Wanda, she seemed lost in your center – who wouldn’t be, given this rare opportunity? She always had a crush on you. But you didn’t even notice. Now, your friendship was taken on the next level, she thanked any deity out there for her patience. ((And her power over you right now? It was hard not to revel in that.))
You looked so adorable. Wanda could compare you to bambi right now, especially when you thought you were being sly. She saw the slick forming on your pussy from earlier as you were stripping. It was mouthwatering that it drove Wanda insane, prickling through each nerve of her body.
“What next?” You shakily asked. It was intimidating to have her eyes fixated on you – you couldn’t decipher what was going on behind those green eyes.
“Gyrate your hips. Back and forth, slowly.” Wanda orders with a low voice.
She watches you try to move back and forth at the pillow. Your pussy grazed on the fabric, making your eyes flutter at each soft contact, but it wasn’t enough for your pleasure nor Wanda’s.
She waddled closer and placed her hands firm on your hips. You bite the inside of your cheek, slowing down your motion out of surprise. The least you can do was have an ounce of dignity, you couldn’t moan in front of Wanda.
You sweet thing, Wanda thought. It was evident how desperate you were in your soft and messy thrusts. She was focused on how you moved your hips clumsily and your folds wetter, the pillow darkening as your arousal stained them.
She couldn’t take it much longer.
“You’re almost bouncing, honey. Do it like this – in sliding motions.” A moan inevitably escaped your lips as she pushed your hips alone, quite literally guiding you. Wanda shuddered in delight. “Want that pretty pussy of yours gliding in, get that friction working already. Don’t be afraid to put all of your weight in it. It’s much better, trust me (y/n/n).”
Pretty? Wanda even used it in an inappropriate context. It affected you more than you thought it would, that you felt a spurt of liquid drip from your core. Was it supposed to be like this? It was better than previously. Maybe it was truly your form that made a better change. You thrust your hips more and no longer hesitated upon resting your lower body’s weight. 
It was much better, just like Wanda had said.
Wanda’s bed creaked louder and louder. Of course, you were getting lost in your own needs – you didn’t even notice.
Your resolve was visibly breaking in front of Wanda which she absolutely relished on.
“Don’t let me stop you from moaning, baby. It’s all about your pleasure.” Wanda gently reassured you. It was all you needed apparently to let loose. “Thrust your hips harder.” She commands you. It sparked more need that travelled to your lower stomach down to your core. 
Was this the feeling people always blabbered about? Because you’re sure that you understood it now. It completely took over your senses like crazy.
Your hands placed in front for balance, you do as your best friend said. She truly knows her way around here. You haven’t felt this needy before. The friction she mentioned was settling in quickly and it was addicting against your pussy. You close your eyes and arch your back. The softness soon burned – a delicious contradiction – and it was enough to make you feel soaked.
“Just like that…” Her hips have never left yours and matched the rough sliding motions, grasping firm around your bare skin. “It feels good, doesn’t it? You’re doing so great.” For me, Wanda wanted to add.
“M-mm, y-yes,” You whimpered and nodded dumbly. 
“You can also experiment with other motions – try what’s best for you. You can do circles with your hips,”
You immediately try as she recommended. Wanda had to stifle a giggle right then and there. Her headboard was starting to hit against the wall with your messy yet hard thrusts. It was obvious that the pleasure was brewing already, to which Wanda deviously smiled at. 
“Can I touch you down there? I bet it’s sticky already…” She whispered directly to your ear. You feel your best friend’s hot-white breath grazing satisfactory against your neck. It tickles! 
It wouldn’t hurt right? It was a part of the lesson, you suppose. Wanda knew better and you trusted her. “Y-yes. You can touch me, Wands.”
Without further ado, your best friend immediately went in to trace your outer folds. Fuck, you were so wet. You immediately coated her fingers, terribly addicting that she had to stop herself from plunging in so suddenly.
You continued to gyrate harder and it seems that there was the ‘spot’ that everyone was talking about. You lost track of it, but you felt how the pleasure intensified and moaned unadulteratedly, louder than before, that spurred Wanda to repeat the motion harder. With every glide against the pillow that you do, Wanda’s fingers were there at the edge to stimulate your throbbing core. Your breathing pattern grew heaving.
It was so, so addicting to have your slit pressed against the once innocent material and the friction it provided you–
“Stop there,” Wanda firmly said. You halt out of concern, rethinking whether you did something wrong. Your best friend, however, was pleased at your expression. 
“D-Did I do something wrong?” You gulped and weakly asked.
“No, honey. You did so well.” Wanda caressed your jaw and held you by the cheek with her clean hand. A pleased grin broke out of you to which Wanda duly noted. You liked praises. “That was the first lesson. You need something to stimulate you into the mood, it is very important. Now I’ll touch you first so you can mimic them later on. Is that okay?” Her hands descend to trail them at the center of your torso and stopped by the pelvic area.
This was going so well. You even forgot and thought how dumb it was to doubt Wanda and how she would embarrass you. It felt as though it was more than what you asked of her.
You wet your lips, “M-more than okay.” 
At this point, you valued Wanda's opinion more than ever.
“Good girl. We’ll get started.”
She swept away the crumpling notes and the stained pillow. Wanda almost moaned at the mere sight. It was like an animal had rudely rammed through her room.
Wanda stared at your half-lidded eyes that beamed at her words. Your hair was frazzled and barely can manage your own breathing. She caused this. And hell, she can’t wait to ravish you further. You felt reassured with her comforting smile and voice leading you on.
Your best friend grabbed you by the thighs to pull you closer to her. Wanda hummed in delight, a crooked smile on her lips appeared as you released a throaty moan again as she pushed them farther apart. 
“Now, listen carefully, (y/n/n). You have to tease your folds first and gather the wetness here,” Wanda sultry uttered and started to stroke your folds again and you helplessly nod. “It’s no trouble right now, considering how soaked you are.” She bit her lip and teased you by bringing up her fingers that were coated by your arousal. “Don’t hide them from me. It’s so pretty to see you like this, honey.” You arched your back for her and became flustered at Wanda’s words.
So warm and inviting. Wanda was flooded with glee, that she swooped in before anyone else could. With this, she also intends to be your last. No way in hell she can share you now after this.
You feel your cheeks and ears grow hot. You buck your hips for more as Wanda starts to stroke vertically and then random patterns at your soaked pussy. It wasn’t enough to scratch the itch you’ve been longing for.
Your nostrils flared, “W-Wands, please..”
Wanda felt herself damp as you moaned her name. It was like music to her ears. She immediately changed your position, from your hips up to encouraging you to lay down flat on her bed and adjusting to settle on your side – her fingers not leaving the inside of your pussy.
“What do you need, baby?” She pressed a kiss on your ear. The gesture was meant to comfort you but you felt your body burning even more.
“I need you! It’s so sticky and tickling me- I don’t… Can you please h-help me?”
You were needy, just as Wanda wanted you to be. She riled you up enough that she even felt you drip more wetness as she plunged deeper inside of you and hit the spongy wall that her fingers could reach. You were more than compliant all throughout the session that it made her heart soar.
“You can also play with your breasts, it can add a better feel for you, baby.” 
You hesitantly reach for your pair and Wanda’s awaiting (needy) eyes were the final nudge for you. You wanted to do good. At this point, the lines were blurred; you didn’t know if it was to achieve orgasm or praise from your best friend.
Hands skimming underneath your shirt, you also pushed up your bra and experimentally squeezed the flesh. You groaned and eyes half-lidded again, threatening to shut.
Wanda was ecstatic that she had convinced you through this. Her motions never faltered – if anything it was more determined – as she watched you play with your tits. She thought it was cute how your underwear mismatched, her eyes caught the sliver of the pale material of your panties and your bra in the color of a colder tone. Were you tugging on your perked nipples? You were so eager and feeling comfortable enough. Wanda almost demanded you to take them off, wanting to see them. Another time.
She kept on stimulating your pussy and with the addition of you playing with your breasts – it was impossible to even control your moans anymore. 
You threw your arms quickly around Wanda’s neck and hands had wrapped themselves on her nape. Opposed to her firm and determined motions, you were gentle with how you caressed her skin. Wanda melted with no hesitation and now, her dorm room was reverberating with moans along you.
“It’s so sticky down here just as you said. Now,” Wanda’s own breathing was ragged and you had to force yourself to listen to her. “I’m going for your clit. It’s in the uppermost area, covered by your hood. Need to stretch you more-” She grabbed your hand and made them trace the areas for you to pinpoint them better. Fuck, Wanda was right. You were soaking wet. “That better?”
You agreed furiously, “Y-Yes, but–”
“I know, I know. You need more.” Wanda kept her ministrations inside of you, stretched you better that you had to let out a guttural moan. The spot was back and she kept hitting it now mercilessly. “Is that it? That feels much better?”
“Oh, yes!”
Your needy core greedily swallowed Wanda’s fingers and you had no idea. So drunk in pleasure. So lost without her. You’re so lucky that you had her. Wanda was just as intoxicated as you, her dilated green eyes drinking up the warmth of your pussy and your writhing sight.
Upon making eye contact, you didn’t know how to react to the revelation of how those green eyes unashamedly looked at you. It was similar as Wanda would when she was examining you while fitting clothes – only now they appeared more hungry and she’ll devour you.
And the thing is that you will gladly let her. Another needy moan was ripped out of you, disturbing your rail of thoughts as Wanda added her thumb to the stimulation that circled around your clit, you laid there helplessly clenching on the bed sheets while you were in Wanda’s grasp.
“W-Wands… Wands! I think I’m going to pee,” You shyly inform the woman and the heel of your palm pressed against her clavicle to push her away, Wanda only shushed you.
It was familiar to you, you think that you’ve reached this extent but you always stopped because you were very unsure of what follows after.
You felt dirty and it was embarrassing how you were bucking your hips to meet Wanda’s plunging in your core. It halted your mood a little and Wanda immediately picked it up, as your walls clenched harder around her digits.
“That’s it, that’s it.” Wanda’s sultry voice spurred your gears again. You huffed and absorbed her words. “Don’t worry about it, you’re going to cum. Just listen to my voice baby, you’re doing so great for me.” It is more than okay, you repeat in your head. Wanda’s making you feel so good you felt like you were going to combust.
Your muscles grew tense around the abdomen area and all over your thighs - you feel the knot forming in there. You are frenzied to chase it.
“Cum for me, come on, my good girl.”
Wanda was sweating now as you were, and she kept ramming inside of your warm walls, a final hard stimulation around your clit did its job to untangle the knot you were feeling. 
“Wanda!” A guttural moan was ripped out of you.
It was the most angelic sound that Wanda has ever heard.
Your eyes were still closed shut. Still whining as you fall apart, it was the most freeing experience you’ve ever encountered. It’s easy to say that you were beyond satisfied this time around. Your body was almost floating and your mind was lightheaded–you’re sure of it. Your legs were spasming a little and it was hard to ignore the vivid feeling of liquid oozing out of your core. It was never ending and Wanda was tempted to drink them all up.
“You looked so beautiful there, honey. I’m proud of you.” She cooed sweetly in your ears and pressed a kiss on your forehead that was glistening with sheer sweat. 
You grew hot at her words. “Oh–!”
The bed shook again and creaked as Wanda rode out your orgasm. The squelching sound was more vivid to your ears. You cried out loud, feeling that it was too much, held your best friend’s wrist and finally Wanda pulled her digits out. Before your best friend can calm you down–
An aggressive banging resounded against Wanda’s dorm walls.
“It’s midterms week! Stop fucking!”
You froze. You completely forgot where you were and how thin the dorm walls were, making you cover your face with your palm. Meanwhile, Wanda couldn’t be more bothered – she simply laughed at how evidently embarrassed you are, threading through her own hair with a familiar glint in her eyes.
“I don’t think I can face the people outside anymore,” You admit, groaning as you sober up from the high. 
Why did you have to be so loud? 
“Mmm. Lucky for you, we’re staying inside for a while. I got some other tricks I wanted to show you.” Wanda bit her lip, crimson also spreading through her cheeks as she closed the gap again between you.
She can compare your gaze to a deer caught in headlights. Always so attentive and compliant.
With a little more touch from your best friend, you felt the hotness starting again in your lower stomach, making it twitch with familiar need – your studying session long forgotten and replaced with a different lesson.
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do not repost/translate on other sites. © wandagcre
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fangirl-dot-com · 15 days
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🪡The Obvious String
*part of the reverse trope series*
Paring: Lestappen x MercedesDriver!Reader Genre: SMAU/Fluff/Humor Summary: The invisible string was so visible that everyone missed it but them. What are they? Rivals? Friends? Emotional Support Buddies? But they can't be lovers . . . can they?
*I took a lot of inspo from people on twitter. I think this is the most work I've ever done for a chapter before. the tweets alone took almost two hours to do. I absolutely love lestappen so this is super self-indulgent. but that's why I'm a writer. I hope you all enjoy!*
TAG LIST IS CLOSED
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Lando knew that there was something between the three of them. 
Anyone could see that. Instagram, twitter, TikTok, hell even the Formula 1 app was talking about it. The grid was getting very suspicious, but who could blame them. 
Max wasn’t putting out the fire by pulling his two childhood friends in as they posed for pictures. Charles couldn’t help but flash his God-given dimples at the Dutchman or the Briton girl. And Y/n, she was just as bad, blush on her cheeks every moment she was around them. 
So yeah, everyone was talking. But, no one truly knew what exactly was going on. 
And that’s exactly what Lando was going to find out. (With the help of his fellow 16 drivers.)
His first victim: the French bestie of the non-French man. 
“I have no clue what is going on between the three,” was the first thing that came out of Pierre’s mouth when Lando showed up to his driver’s room door. The poor McLaren driver hadn’t even gotten a word out. 
Lando rolled his eyes. “You have to know something. And you call yourself Charles’s best mate.” 
Pierre threw his hands up. “Non, apparently that is Y/n and Max. I’ve been kicked to the side.” 
The Alpine driver definitely wasn’t bitter or anything. He was actually thankful that you and Max had been able to keep an eye on Charles when he couldn’t. Knowing that the Monegasque had frequent delf-deprecating thoughts, he felt better that he had the two of you. 
Pierre turned to Lando. “Aren’t you supposed to Max’s best friend as well? How would I know something that you don’t.” 
Now that made Lando’s brows furrow. He was supposed to be Max’s best friend. And maybe that’s why he felt a bit peeved to not know what was supposedly going on between you, him, and Charles. His arms crossed in front of his chest. 
“I’m going to get to the bottom of this,” he muttered, turning away to the door. 
The Frenchman scoffed. “Good luck mate. We’ve been trying since 2019.” 
“We?” 
Lewis was not expecting the numerous knocks at his door during media day. The Briton held his breath, willing the unexpected visitors to give up and go away. Yet, a sigh left his lips once the knocking started up again. He pulled himself off of his couch and walked over. 
When the door swung in, two bodies brushed against his side. 
His eye brows raised. “Yes, welcome. Come right in. Oh, thank you Lewis for allowing us to disturb your peace.” 
Lando chewed his lip. “Yeah, thanks man.” 
Pierre took a look around the room. “Thank you Lewis.” 
The papaya clad driver took a seat exactly where Lewis’s had been sitting, which cause Lewis to glare at him. 
“And why are the two of you here?” 
Pierre huffed, looking at the pictures on Lewis’s wall. 
“Ask him.” A finger pointed at Lando, making the Briton look up from his phone. 
“Oh yeah. Do you know. . . ”
Once again, Lando couldn’t even finish his sentence because Lewis interrupted him. 
“No, I don’t know what’s going on between Y/n, Max, and Charles. Honestly Lando, no one knows and I don’t think they know either.” 
Lando leaned his head back and groaned. 
“But how could they not? They all make goo-goo eyes at each other. And it’s worse on the podium.” 
“At least you haven’t bit on the podium with two-thirds of the groups. It’s insufferable man. They can’t go without talking about each other for more than a few moments.”
A laugh left Pierre’s lips. “Oh yeah. It’s always ‘Y/n was so strong on corner 2’ or ‘Pierre, did you see how Max overtook Checo?’ And then ‘Oh Charles was told to stay behind again. He really needs to ignore them.’ It makes me want to puke every time.” 
Lando scratched his chin. “Now that I’m thinking about it, you’re right. It was like how Max and Charles completely ignored me in China. They kept looking at Y/n below!” 
The last few words had a slight whine to them. Charles had been quick enough to catch Checo on the last lap, and placed himself in P3 after Lando. 
The Alpine driver looked lost. “Lewis, you’ve been Y/n’s teammate for almost three years. How can you not know anything.” 
All he got was a glare back. 
“Like I said, Gasly, I don’t even think they know something is going on. It’s pathetic honestly.” 
Lando put his head in his hands. “She must be pining. Don’t you two do girls night or at least something like that?” 
“Lando, she spends all her free moments with Max and Charles. How can she be pining to me if she doesn’t leave their side.” 
It was quite for a moment before Lando snapped. 
“I’ve got it. If we want grid gossip, we got to go to the source.” 
“No Lando, I don’t know if Max, Charles, and Y/n are in a secret relationship. And I don’t think they think of each other like that.” 
The groan that Lando let out was so loud it made a couple of people look their way. George, the tall, lanky Briton was set to take Lewis’s seat for 2025 after two years in Williams. The driver pool was going crazy. 
Logan was returning to Formula 1 with HAAS after a brief sabbatical and would be a teammate pair with Oliver Bearman. Nico and Daniel of all people were going to Audi. Liam was set to take the second Red Bull seat. And Carlos, well, no one really knew, but rumors said that he was going to return with Audi when they caught up with the regulations in 2027. 
The McLaren driver was close to pulling his curls out. 
“But George.” 
Lando was now full on whining. George seemed exasperated and shrugged. 
“We’re not that close anyway. We aren’t even teammates yet. And you knew how she yelled at me that one time that my car scraped a hole in Max’s car.” 
The group of four winced at the memory. 
Max had just finished yelling at George, calling him every name under the sun. And then you had shown up to double it. The Williams, well, now Mercedes driver, was thankful that Charles had shown up to drag the two of you away. 
Lewis looked a bit pale. 
“Yeah. I don’t think she’s fully forgiven me for Silverstone 2021.” 
Lando turned to Lewis. “But they were all still fighting at that point. Remember the whole unfollowing they did in 2019?” 
Pierre snorted. “Of course we remember. That doesn’t mean that they didn’t still care about each other. You know that Charles and Y/n were the first ones to congratulate Max after he won the championship in Abu Dhabi. And then her and Max practically tackled Charles in Japan in 2022. I don’t even want to imagine when Y/n wins her championship.”  
Lando ran a hand down his face. 
“Well, if Pierre doesn’t know, Lewis and George don’t know. Then who would?” 
George cocked his head. 
“Have you asked Daniel? You know that he and Max are pretty close.” 
Lando’s eyes widened. “Why did I not think of that. George I could kiss you!” 
George’s face scrunched. “No thank you. I don’t want to be anywhere near your lips.” 
Lewis was already at the door, wanting to get a move on. “Let’s go. George you’re coming too. If we get to the bottom of this, you’re going to have to learn how to deal with all three.” 
A shudder ran down George’s spine. He did not want to imagine the horror of sharing a podium with all of them. He’s heard enough stories. 
When they got to Daniel’s motorhome, the Australian was peacefully talking with Oscar. Lando had run up to them and was currently hunched over, trying to catch his breath. 
“Do,” inhale, “you two,” exhale, “know if,” inhale and heave, “there’s something,” exhale, “going on,” inhale, “with. . .”
Daniel sighed. “Max, Charles, and Y/n?” 
Lando shot up, eyes full of hope. Lewis nodded next to him. 
“Yes! Do you?” 
The older Aussie wanted to smirk as he saw hope fill the group’s faces. He nodded a bit, and Lando looked like someone told him that his birthday and Christmas had come early. 
“No.” 
The McLaren driver fell to the ground. Pierre smacked Daniel on the shoulder. 
“Why would you do that!” 
Now Lewis was the one whining. 
“Because it was funny. Mate, they’ve been like this since Max joined in 2018. Even then, it was worse than whatever this is.” 
The Mercedes driver of the group let out another groan for what felt like the millionth time in that hour. 
“Max was insufferable in 2018. Taking his sim everywhere so that he could game and race with them online. And the multiple phone calls. I think Max partied harder for Charles’s F2 champion win and Y/n’s F3 championship than his first race win.” 
“Ok, but that’s kind of cute.” 
All eyes landed on Oscar. 
The younger Aussie’s eyes bulged. “What?” 
Daniel pointed a finger at him. “If Max hears you say cute in any way, shape, or form that is distinctly near his name, he will come after you.”  
An audible gulp was heard. 
Lando had begun to pace. “Well, if I don’t know, Pierre doesn’t know, Lewis doesn’t know, George doesn’t know, Oscar doesn’t know, and Daniel doesn’t know, then who would know?”
Everyone looked a little lost. 
“Aha!” 
The two papaya drivers jumped out of reflex. Lando’s head turned violently toward Lewis. 
“What!” 
He held his phone up with a contact showing. 
“We call Seb.” 
“Lewis, like I’ve told you. Charles hasn’t told me anything.” 
For the sake of everyone around in the paddock, they held in their groans. 
“But Seb, you were practically Charles’s grid-dad. You have to know something!” Daniel said, face nearly in Lewis’s phone, as if Sebastian could hear him better. 
A sigh was heard through the speaker. 
“Charles was nothing less than a terror in 2019. I think the calmest anyone has seen him was 2018 when his car didn’t go fast enough for him to catch anyone.” 
Lewis hummed. “That’s true.” 
“Because everyone there should know that 2019 was the year of them. Every headline was all about them. And don’t get me started on when they had that big fight. I had to hear everything about it every. single. weekend.” 
Daniel nodded. “It was the same with Max. If Fernando was here, he could say the same for Y/n since she was still racing with Alpine at the time.” 
Oscar had completely forgotten about Fernando being Y/n’s teammate for half a season before she made the jump to Williams to replace Kubica to race alongside Nicholas Latiffi. The young Aussie had looked up to the older female when he was making the decision to leave Alpine. She had personally congratulated him on the move and gave him a wink. Well, had tried to before Max and Charles dragged her away. 
Sebastian had gone quiet over the phone. 
“Has anyone actually asked them if they’re together or not? Instead of just asking everyone else about a matter that deeply involves the three of them?” 
Their silence had answered for them. 
Lando grabbed Lewis’s phone out of his hand. 
“Thank you Seb! We’ll get right on it!” 
“Hey!” 
It was too late and Lando had already hung up and was passing the phone back to his fellow Briton. 
“Guys, we can’t ask them.” 
“What!” Pierre yelled. 
“Think about it. If we just go and ask, they’re going to make excuses. We won’t get a right answer.” 
“Lando, you’re being unreal. Let’s just go ask them,” George said. 
“Ask them what?” 
The six of them jumped out of their skin at the new arrival of a familiar voice. Lando froze before slowly turning around, to come face to face with you, Charles, and Max, all looking cozy for media day. 
“Uh, nothing?” Lando squeaked out, eyes darting around so he wouldn’t have to look at the trio. 
Max snorted. “Doesn’t sound like nothing to me.” 
He took a sip of his Red Bull. 
Daniel looked panicked. “We were just wanting to ask, uh, Lewis and Nico if they had forgiven each other yet?” 
“Hey!” 
Charles raised his eyebrows. “Why do you seem so unsure? And Lewis is right there mate. Kind of rude to talk about his problems in front of him.” 
“Thank you Charles.” 
The Monegasque hummed as he turned to Max. His mouth dropped. 
“Max, I thought I told you to stop drinking that stuff. It’s bad for your heart.” 
The Dutchman shrugged and took another sip, just to spite the Ferrari driver. You rolled your eyes, knowing a playfight was just around the corner. 
Oscar’s eyes narrowed as he looked over the trio’s choice of outfits. 
“Y/n, are those Charles’s cloud pants? Charles is that Max’s cap? And Max is that Charles’s Monza hoodie.” 
The arguing that was beginning to build between the two male drivers suddenly stopped. Your eyes widened as you jerked your head toward them. 
Sure enough, Charles’s hat was not bright red and it had the number 1 on it, something that Charles lost to Max in 2023. You leaned back to look at the hoodie Max was wearing, and indeed it had the iconic podium scene on the back of it. The two males looked toward your pants. The bright white clouds seemed to stare back at them. 
“Uh, yes?” you asked. “But we share clothes all the time. It’s not a big deal.” 
Max and Charles nodded before Charles was hit with a thought. 
“Oh, chéri, I forgot to tell you that your dry cleaning was picked up a few hours ago and is back at the hotel,” he said as he looked at his phone, completely missing the six pairs of wide eyes that were now looking at him. 
Max smirked as he leaned over and kissed the top of Charles’s head. 
“Thank you schatje.” 
This time, a whine came from you. 
“I’m being left out,” you muttered, crossing your arms. However, the two were not having it and quickly brought you into their arms. 
Lando stared, blinked, and stared some more before he rubbed his eyes. He completely believed that the three would disappear when his hands lowered, but he caught Max in the middle of kissing your lips. 
“WHAT?” 
You turned back to the group. 
“Are you all fine?” 
Lewis threw his hands up. “I’m done. Call me when we need to go to the media.” 
The door opened quickly, allowing Lewis to slip out. 
Pierre looked a bit pale. “What? When? Where? Why?”
Charles shrugged. “We’re together. After my championship. The hotel. We love each other.” 
Daniel sighed. “So you’ve been together since 2022?” 
Max rolled his eyes. “No.” 
“But Charles just said his championship!” Oscar explained, hands outstretched. 
It was your turn to smile. “His F2 championship. We’ve been together since 2017.” 
A long sigh came from Lando. “I think I need to sit down.” 
Daniel’s door swung back open, revealing Lewis once again. He also seemed out of breath. His hands were on his knees for a bit until he straightened back up. 
“You’re telling me that you three have been together SINCE 2017!” 
You nodded. “Yes.” 
Pierre pouted. “But what about 2019?” 
The three of you winced in a synchronized matter. With a quick look, Max was the one to sigh. His hands dug into the front pocket of the cozy, black hoodie. 
“Long story short, we took a small break until Y/n won in Brazil. We all got our heads out of our asses and apologized.” 
Oscar rose an eyebrow. “Then why haven’t you followed each other back on Instagram.”
A snort from you made the two men chuckle. You simply shrugged your shoulders. 
“Too lazy? We don’t feel like breaking the internet.” 
Lando took a seat on Daniel’s couch. “Why haven’t you told anyone?” 
Charles ran a hand over his face. “Lando, we race in countries where people are killed for being homosexual. We can’t risk anything.” 
The air suddenly took a solemn turn as the McLaren driver nodded, truly taking in the situation. Charles chewed his lip in anxiety, while Max picked at his fingers. You were looking at the group. 
“You won’t tell anyone right?” 
Suddenly, everyone felt bad for wanting to find out. They had pushed the three to confess something that they might not have wanted people to know about at that time. What a group of friends they were. 
Lando hung his head. “We won’t. I’m sorry that we asked about it before you three were obviously ready to tell someone.” 
Another snort left Charles’s lips as his hand rested on his mouth. Max had a shit-eating grin on his face, you had one to match. 
Pierre looked at them with a skeptical expression. “Something to tell us?” 
Max’s shoulders raised. “People know. You aren’t the first ones to know.” 
Lewis sighed, shoulder sagging. George put a hand on the older Briton’s shoulder, trying to offer some comfort. Lando looked close to losing it. His hazel eyes narrowed at the trio. 
“Then . . . who knows?” 
Charles’s eyes looked up a bit as he started to count. 
“Uh, Christian, Fred, Toto, Kimi.” 
You pulled out his fingers and counted.  
“Jensen, Mark, uh, Nico.” 
Lewis looked like he wanted to pass out. 
Max smirked. 
“Oh, and Seb.” 
There was silence amongst the group. 
“Oh he is so dead.” 
“Lando you can’t kill Seb!” 
“Sorry Lewis, but this is his fault!” 
“Calm down Lando. You’ll lose your seat.” 
“Oscar, I just want to talk to Seb. Who has his phone number?” 
“I am not giving you his number Lando.” 
“I’m not asking you Lewis. Daniel, I know you have it.” 
You smiled in Max and Charles’s arms as Lando started to get physical, trying to grab Daniel’s phone. 
You leaned up, immediately being engulfed in Max’s aftershave. “Should we stop them?” 
Charles leaned a bit forward to look at his two lovers. A soft smile formed on his face, before a smirk replaced it. 
“Nah.” 
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forbidden-sunlight · 3 months
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yandere!Alastor with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario: A Wendigo's Violent Love
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Warning: aged-up!reader [in early to late twenties], violence, spoilers for episodes 7 and 8 in the first season of the 2024 show, possessive and obsessive behavior, Alastor is in denial, physical abuse, implication of friends to enemies.
There may be possible triggers in this story.
If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the back button on your phone or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.
Hey guys, welcome to another Hazbin Hotel fic! I know I had said that I was going to be on a break until the 8th or 14th in my last post, but I had gotten a burst of inspiration after watching the season finale and wrote this after discussing the idea with @riddle-simp and collaborated with @witch-of-the-writing-desk. It's because of these two that I managed to write 2k in a single day, so please give a big round of applause to these amazing individuals.
So with that being said, sit back, relax, and let's see what's going on in tonight's broadcast with Hell's one and only Radio Demon!
Part Two
Alastor could not believe what had happened on the rooftop. No, he refused to believe that he was nearly killed by a hair. To almost die for his friends, a fucking altruist of all things.  Sorry to disappoint, but this is not how his story will end here. He thought viciously, tugging at his hair as memories rushed through his mind. He needed more. He needed his freedom. Yet this deal is restricting his powers from reaching their fullest potential, and it almost killed him. Yes, there has to be another way to get out of it. But more importantly….he needed to stop these feelings bubbling inside of him. These feelings he felt towards you. 
You, a simple groundskeeper who had forgotten what it meant to be a human and served as a weapon in war. You, who did not use technology like him yet still found a way to connect with the rest of the hotel’s wayward souls.
He hates it and he wants you gone, out of sight and out of mind, because these feelings have put him in more danger than necessary. When he finds the backdoor of his deal, how to unclip his wings, he will be the one pulling all of the strings and claim the power that he rightfully deserves. He is the Radio Demon, the Great Alastor! Nothing else matters to him!
He made his decision right in the dilapidated radio station to never get attached to you or anyone else again. To only focus on himself and no one else. He is in Hell for a reason, after all. He cackled, feeling the thrum of his power rising in unison with his conviction. Yes. He thought. Yes, he’s Alastor! The cold, ruthless overlord who always has room for more voices on his broadcast. Not some soft-hearted twit who would die for someone! 
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But what he did not realize at the time, just right underneath the hatch, you had heard everything. 
Despite your injuries and losing both of your arms to angelic steel, you had used your strength to trek through the debris and look for him. Now knowing that he despised you, knowing that he sees you as nothing more than a weapon to use for his convenience….well, you could not blame him. You were a weapon when you were alive. You were feared, you were hated, and you did not care at the time. So why did it hurt so much when he said that? You did not know, except it was better to keep your distance from him. 
So you left the Radio Demon alone, staggering away to join the others. 
Vaggie was somehow able to find Sir Pentious’ blueprints for your prosthetics in a fireproof trunk beneath the rubble, and put in a call to Carmilla Carmine to see if she could make them with angelic steel instead of adamantine. Of course, the angelic arms dealer took a look at them first before agreeing to it, but not before telling Vaggie she must ask for your consent to do the procedure and what you wanted to add or remove. You gave your input, and the procedure was scheduled for the following week. Although you could not help with the construction of the hotel, you did assist Charlie by putting together an eulogy and memorial service for Sir Pentious. The princess was not sure when it would be held, hopefully when the hotel was finished. 
You understood, softly promising to be by her side for support, even if you had to be pushed in a wheelchair. Sir Pentious had been a good person, an inventor and a gentleman who was nothing but kind and respectful to you. Even though you offered to pay him for doing repairs on your arms in the past, he brushed it off and instead asked you to join him for tea. He…you hoped he found peace. 
On the day of your procedure, you asked the overlord a question that had been plaguing your mind since the war. “Madam Carmilla, I am a weapon. I was raised to be one, to be used and tossed aside when my usefulness had expired. So…why is it that I am bothered by what Alastor said…on that day?” You did not dare to elaborate on what he exactly said to her, just that he said that he did not want to see you anymore. Be gone from his sight and mind. 
She stared at you for a long moment before she replied coolly, “So I have heard from Vaggie. But I do not share her thoughts. A weapon is lifeless. You are a person. An emotionally stunted one, but someone is living, breathing, and who can still be hurt by what others say about them even if they can’t see it. You are upset because of what Alastor said….and in my humble opinion, whatever you feel towards him, discard it. There is nothing to gain by being close to him.” She then turned away, pulling on a pair of gloves over her hands as one of her daughters placed a mask over her face. “Are you ready to begin? This is your last chance, and I cannot promise it won’t hurt.”
“I am.” You said. “Thank you for answering my question.” 
Carmilla nodded, and proceeded to give out instructions to you and the rest of the staff in the operating room. You complied, not wanting any more time to be wasted on your behalf. At least now you knew why you were upset.  It was because you cared about Alastor. Cared….yes, that is the appropriate word. You had to distance yourself from him. It is what he wanted, so you must respect his decision as the manager of the Hazbin Hotel. 
Yes, it is better this way.
That was the last thought that crossed your mind before a mask was placed over your face, and everything fell into darkness. 
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Alastor did not understand. You were doing what he wanted you to do. He did not want to see or talk to you unless it was necessary. So why was it making him angry? When he congratulated you on a successful recovery from your procedure, complimented your progress in physical therapy per Carmilla’s instructions, or how lovely the eulogy you wrote for Sir Pentious' memorial service, you showed no reaction. You simply stared at him with a hollow expression before thanking him, excusing yourself with a bow of your head. 
He should be elated. No, he is pleased. He is satisfied that his relationship with you has not gone by being professional. Why, you even pull away as soon as he lays a finger on you~! So why does it bother him that you recoil from his touch? No. He…cannot accept it. He cannot accept this.  He needed to speak to you. Discreetly. 
However, now that this new and improved Hazbin Hotel stood in place of the old one, everything is much bigger with the additional square footage; meaning there would be more ground to cover if Alastor is to ever find you, even if you do not wish to see him.
 Niffty, bless her little deranged mind, pointed him in the direction of the greenhouse. Of course, it was much bigger than the old one. But he still saw the old stained glass windows of the Moriningstar family crest lined up on the south side, allowing red light to come through and shine down on seedling trays with new shoots poking out of the inky soil. The clean, fragrant scent of herbs permeated the air as he walked through the rows of berries, juicy melons, and other culinary delights. He did not think this place would already be thriving when you were the only one who tended to it, as the hotel’s groundskeeper. However…this is you. You, who is able to accomplish anything once you put your mind to it. 
He found you hiding just beyond the apple trees, kneeling beside a bush of glistening roses, armed with pruning shears and an apron over your clothes. A watering can sat on the grass by your side. Your back was facing him…which allowed him the element of surprise. Grinning, he leaned forward, stretching his gloved fingers to lightly caress the petals of the rose you were about to snip off. 
“Oh, my apologies dear. My hand slipped!”
You glanced at him over your shoulder, emotionless [Eye Color] irises holding a steady gaze before turning away. “It’s all right. There are others that I can place at Sir Pentious’ memorial site.” You said, raising the shears to carefully cut another rose with a small snip. “Thank you for your concern.” 
The static around him buzzed, swelling in synchronization with his boiling anger towards you. “I see.” He hissed. “I am terribly sorry to disturb you.”
“It is all right.” Snip. “If there is nothing else, please allow me to finish this so that I can go on break. Niffty will not be happy if I am not out of here within ten minutes.” 
“I’m afraid we must discuss something, [First Name].” He pressed on, irritated at your uncharacteristic rudeness. “That is why I am here. So please turn around and look at me.”
You did. You placed the shears down, twisted your body around so that you looked at him straight in the eye. “Yes?” You said. “What do you need?”
He smiled, the static around him coming to a screeching halt and he was much calmer. Finally, He thought. You were looking at him, instead of avoiding his gaze. “I understand that since you have been cleared to return to work, you’ve been quite busy~! However! What I do not understand is why you have been ignoring me.” He leaned forward, feeling his eyes transform into radio dials. “You do not greet me as much as you have before, we haven’t had tea together, nor have we taken a stroll in Cannibal Colony~! So…why are you acting like I am a complete stranger to you?”
“Because I know the truth.”
Any and every thought he could have possibly said to her at this moment evaporated upon hearing your answer. “Pardon? I’m sorry but I didn’t catch that.” His voice leaked through the rising static. He felt his antlers grow, expanding past his ears with cr-crik, crick noises. Like the roots of a tree. 
“I know the truth. I know that you are angry over what happened in the war, how everyone saw you flee from your battle against Adam. I know you wish to unclip your wings and that you utterly despise me. So I am doing what you wish for. To maintain a professional relationship as the groundskeeper and the manager of the Hazbin Hotel. Our goal is to redeem sinners. There’s nothing beyond business between us.” You said with a calm and expressionless composure. “I went there that day, to the radio station. I had gone there to look for you, to make sure you were all right when I heard your words. But know this,” A sudden sheen of ice glazed over your eyes. “If you bring harm to Charlie or anyone in this hotel, I will kill you where you stand.” 
The last thread of patience in his psyche split in half. Before he could stop himself, Alastor pinned you against the ground, his hands on your shoulders and glaring at you, trying to intimate you with his true form, to scare you into silence as he had done with Husk…but you held your gaze. 
“It’s terrible manners to eavesdrop on someone, my dear.”
“And it isn’t wise to attack someone when you are not even at your full strength.” 
In a flash you immediately flipped him over, straddling his hips as you held down his wrists over his head with one hand. The other held a garden spade to his throat and he was burning. That was when he realized you weren’t wearing your gloves, thus the angelic steel is the reason why his skin is on fire. 
“Calm yourself, Alastor.” You said. “There is no reason to be angry when I am doing what you want me to do. Nor to act as you are doing right now. I advise you to take slow, deep breaths and count to five backwards.” 
“Release me.”
“Not until you have calmed down.” The way you replied so calmly, so…lifelessly, made Alastor angry. Angrier than he has felt in a long, long time. Not since his prey had escaped the forest and he did not get to eat them. Not since his mother died, leaving him alone in the world except for a drunken asshole who wasn’t worthy of being his father. Make these feelings stop NOW
“Come to my office in exactly twenty minutes for an evaluation about your conduct at work. Do not be late.”
That was the last thing he said to you before he sunk into the grass as an inky shadow, slithering back towards the greenhouse’s entrance towards his room. He couldn’t believe it. How could you have known everything? How could he not have sensed your presence? Was he that weak? No. No, he assumed he was alone and clearly he had not been. You were an anomaly. You were raised as a weapon; to spy, to kill, to search and destroy upon the command of your master. 
So why does it still bother him? Why does his head feel like it is about to split in half as he goes over the conversation over and over in his mind? Why is his heart falling into the pit of his stomach at remembering your promise to kill him if he harmed anyone here in the hotel? Why does he have this urge to know how you truly feel towards him? Do you still care for him? Do you love him?
In twenty minutes, he needed to know the truth…or else he would go insane.
What Alastor did not realize though, as he holed up himself in his quarters until the allotted time to meet with you, Husk had seen the whole thing from the door. 
He was going to drag you to lunch because Niffty had gotten pissed that you were skipping meals again…and thank fuck Alastor did not see him. Husk, the drunken gambler and former overlord, almost flew over to you with a worried look, grumbling under his breath. Once he saw that you were all right and did not have visible bruises or injuries courtesy of a certain someone, he grabbed you by the hand, leading out of the greenhouse. He was not going to let Alastor hurt you again.
He might be a dumbass, can’t fight worth shit…but you are important to him, and he’ll protect you even if it means putting himself in the line of fire again. 
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awearywritersworld · 5 months
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she mumbled that i was peculiar
sukuna x reader summary: impressively, sukuna is still trying to find ways to deny his feelings for you. nevertheless, he keeps you safe from harm when a late night trip to the store doesn't go as planned. will seeing his violent nature for yourself change the way you feel about him? he seems to think so. w/c: 4.2k (oops) tags/warnings: angst to fluff. attempted kidnapping. canon typical violence. depictions of blood. reader throws up. reader is in shock for a bit. cursing. aged up!yuuji. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. *please mind the warnings for this chapter* a/n: i'm sorry this took so long! im ngl, i struggled quite a bit to write this chapter. i'm still unsure about the pacing, but here it is anyway. thank you for reading and i hope you enjoy! series masterlist // masterlist
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it's not often that you go out for the evening, but tonight is one such occasion. you leave around seven, excited to meet nobara and maki for dinner.
when yuuji falls asleep a few hours later, sukuna doesn't take over right away. he spends a while in his domain, engaging in what some people might call sulking.
before long, however, he begins to feel restless and he tells himself it's because he's grown accustomed to his finite hours of freedom. of course, it has nothing to do with your absence.
so he assumes control of his vessel's body and pulls a short novel from your bookshelf. settling on the couch, his fingertips brush over the cover: the stranger by albert camus
it's the first time he's ever been alone in your apartment, a fact he's well aware of, and his eyes wander to the front door. it'd be all too easy to pull it open, to make his way downstairs and out onto the street.
how long would it last before yuuji regained control? are you nearby? would you get caught up in the havoc he'd doubtlessly wreak?
the thought makes him grimace. returning his focus to the book in his hands, time seems to pass by faster as he makes his way through the pages.
even so, he deems the narrative a bit boring. in his (what's the opposite of humble?) opinion, dead mothers and nagging girlfriends don't make for the most captivating story, so his mind begins to wander once he happens upon the quote:
"so why marry me, then?" she said. i explained to her that it didn't really matter and that if she wanted to, we could get married. besides, she was the one who was doing the asking and all i was saying was yes. then she pointed out that marriage was a serious thing. i said, "no." she stopped talking for a minute and looked at me without saying anything. then she spoke. she just wanted to know if i would have accepted the same proposal from another woman, with whom I was involved in the same way. i said, "sure." then she said she wondered if she loved me, and there was no way i could know about that. after another moment's silence, she mumbled that i was peculiar, that that was probably why she loved me but that one day i might disgust her for the same reason.
sukuna thinks about you— the woman who forced her way into his solitude.
although, what if it hadn't been you? what if the brat had been involved with another woman? would he have eventually taken an interest in her too?
are you really that special, or is he just going crazy inside the cage that is itadori yuuji? the latter is much more likely, right?
he supposes he prefers the idea of madness over... feelings for some human.
all of a sudden, your apartment door seems much more inviting. would it be so bad if he were to step through it? what did he really have to lose?
yeah, that's right. he'll get up any second now and act on every horrible impulse he's been repressing. any second now... any second...
he can't quite figure out why he's unable to bring his limbs to move, weighed down by some force that's beyond him.
it's at that moment the door clicks open and for a split second, he thinks it must be his sign to go, but then you come waltzing in.
"'kuna!" you greet in an excited manner, disrupting the peaceful quiet.
kicking off your shoes haphazardly, you make your way over to him and promptly drop yourself into his lap. it elicits a bout of unwelcome clarity for the king of curses.
no, he wouldn't have taken an interest in just anyone, that much becomes obvious. it wasn't through a medium as flawed as chance that he came to... tolerate you. you're much too annoying for that to be the case.
"hello???" you wave your hand in front of his face. "i'm home."
"i can see that."
"welcome home, darling," you say in a deep voice, a poor imitation of him. "i missed you so much— that's what you're supposed to say."
yeah, definitely too annoying.
"but i didn't miss you." one of his hands comes to rest on your thigh, a betrayal of his preceding assertion.
"you're sitting alone reading—" you pause to inspect the book lying open beside him. "existential fiction about a nihilistic frenchman. of course you missed me."
he changes the topic rather swiftly. "you're drunk."
"i'm tipsy, at best." you roll your eyes. "can't i just be happy to see you?"
"you'd be the first."
"i don't mind making history."
you place a kiss on his lips, casual and affectionate in way that makes sukuna's body stiffen, and stand up.
"i need to get ready for bed, then we're gonna watch tv together because i missed you— gosh, see how easy that was?"
you run off to the bathroom and his body doesn't fully relax until he hears the shower turn on.
the thought of missing someone is a strange notion to him, because it implies eagerness and desire. for as long as he cares to remember, those emotions have been reserved for proclivities much more sinister.
so he hadn't missed you. he just would have preferred it if you stayed home. that's all.
when you return to the living room around fifteen minutes later, you're wearing one of yuuji's shirts, and as far as sukuna can tell, very little otherwise.
making yourself comfortable on the floor between his legs, you pass a hair tie behind you. "can you braid my hair?"
he's watched you get ready for bed enough times that he's fairly certain he can manage it. taking the tie from you, he still asks "why can't you do it?"
"because i'm sleepy," you frown, reaching for the tv remote.
gathering your hair in his hands and carefully dividing it into sections, he sighs. "you require so much looking after."
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"you're not going to die if you can't have cookies tonight." sukuna states dryly, glancing at the clock that reads eleven o'clock.
"please don't trivialize my struggle," you begin, pulling on your jacket. "i want miso butter cookies— my grandma's secret recipe."
most of what you need can be found in the kitchen, but a trip to the store is in order for a few final ingredients.
"my mistake," he huffs, rising to his feet. "how insensitive of me."
"oh, it's alright. just don't let it happen again."
"sure. i'll keep that in mind, princess." sliding the apartment door's chain lock off the track, he does little to hide the vexation in his tone.
just as he reaches for the handle, you stop him and wrap a scarf around his neck, forcing a hoodie into his hands. "put this on. you'll be cold."
he looks at you as if you're crazy. "i don't have to worry about things as insignificant as the weather."
"well, put it on anyway," you insist.
he decides that acquiescing will be easier than arguing for the next five minutes and slips the hoodie over head. when you both step out into the chilly air of night, there are still a decent number of people traveling the streets.
stopping at a crosswalk the next block over, you begin to prattle on about what you need to pick up and the different steps in your recipe. naturally, you completely miss it when the pedestrian sign turns green.
"come on," sukuna commands, his hand wrapping around your wrist and tugging you along with him. "i don't have all night."
you scoff. "to be fair, i didn't say you had to come with me."
"yeah well it's late. you shouldn't be out alone." there's a hint of exasperation in his voice, like he truly had no choice in the matter.
despite that, once you reach the other side of the street, his fingers slide down your palm and thread through yours.
you glance over at him and find he's looking off to the side, so you bite your lip to suppress your pleased smile. is he avoiding your gaze intentionally? you decide that bashfulness suits him better than you would have expected.
offering him a light squeeze of the hand, you hope it conveys your appreciation of his small display of affection.
"so, are you going to help me make the cookies?"
his lips press into a thin line. "as thrilling as that seems, i don't particularly have a penchant for baking."
"you think you'd humor me a little! you know, since i'm your only friend and all."
"if anyone else asked me such a ridiculous question, they wouldn't live to see tomorrow." you ponder whether he's joking and quickly decide that he isn't. "this is me humoring you."
"you're so mean to me."
"hardly."
"fine," you pout. "then you can't have any!"
"now, hold on." the threat does make him hesitate. you've come to learn that if there's one thing he loves as much as reading, it's food. "let's not be hasty."
you're approaching the store, the sliding doors just a few strides away.
"it's only fair! besides, you're not going to die if you can't have cookies," you throw his earlier words in his face.
he exhales deeply. "have i ever told you how irritating you are?"
"woah! now you're definitely not getting any, mister!"
"alright, alright," he groans as you step inside. "i'll help you bake your stupid cookies."
"perfect!" you exclaim as if you knew he'd give in eventually (you did). "then you can start by finding the miso paste while i get everything else!"
you scamper off before he can tell you not to order him around like some common servant. he's never even been grocery shopping, how the hell is he supposed to find anything in here?
wandering the aisles, he stews over how domestic this is. for god's sake— the king of curses, shopping for ingredients and making baked goods. what have you reduced him to?
just as he considers giving up, he spots the item he's looking for and grabs it so aggressively that it knocks a few packets of instant miso soup to the floor. wrinkling his nose in distaste for the entire experience, he sets off looking for you, though his efforts are to no avail.
he wonders where the hell you could have gone off to when a flickering light catches his eye, filling him with a strange sort of unease.
it's emanating from a narrow hallway tucked away in the back corner of the store. at the very edge of the hall, a phone with a familiar case is lying on the floor, the screen shattered.
his blood runs cold, a sensation that is fully unknown to him, and the miso paste slips from his fingers. he appears in the hallway the very next second and the sight that greets him ignites a furious hostility in the center of his being— heavy and consuming.
you're struggling against one man as he drags you out of the backdoor and into an alley. another man is holding the door open, urging his partner to hurry up.
the hand over your mouth keeps you from yelling, but you're unsure you would have been able to make a sound regardless.
one second you're cast into darkness, and the next, the light seems blinding. the flashing is unceasing and it makes your head hurt.
two limbs are wrapped around your torso, keeping you firmly in place, and your arms are trapped at your sides. you might be kicking your legs, but they may just be dragging along too. you really can't be sure.
there's a thrum of a heartbeat at your back. it's pace is unforgiving, the intensity mirroring that of your own. you've a vague concern that your heart may very well beat right out of your chest.
then there's an abrupt shift in the air and a sickening crack echoes through out the night. crumpling onto the concrete, you think it must have started raining before you realize that the droplets on your face are warm.
you wipe at your cheek and your fingers stain crimson, the color matching that of an increasingly large puddle seeping across the pavement beside you.
there's a heap lying a few feet away and you recognize that it's wearing clothes. it's a sight you struggle to make sense of.
needing to focus on something else, your eyes find sukuna and the expression he's wearing is fierce and unreserved. "tell me what you wanted with her."
you've never heard him speak in such a way. his tone is low, his cadence nothing short of threatening.
"s-s'kuna?" your own voice sounds foreign to you and it goes unheard by him.
he has your attacker pressed against the brick wall of the alley, both hands wrapped around his throat. he's too livid to realize the pressure on his windpipe is preventing him from answering.
sukuna throws him to the other side of the alleyway out of frustration, the man rolling onto his back and wheezing to appease his lungs.
"tell me!" sukuna commands again, louder this time. less collected.
the man scrambles away from his looming figure. "th-they sent us, told us they needed her for an important matter."
"who?"
"they'll kill me if i tell you—"
sukuna crouches down, laughing dryly. "and what do you suppose i'm going to do?"
his eyes are almost unrecognizable to you. they're frenzied— a few shades deeper than the scarlet you've grown so fond of.
"you'll k-kill me either way, so at least i'll die with honor—"
"tch. useless." sukuna waves his hand, and you can hardly comprehend what happens right in front of you.
neat red lines appear across the man's body, then it ruptures into nothing at all. the only evidence that he was ever there in the first place is his blood.
the stench of which is perhaps the worst part— intense, coppery, and hot. it makes your eyes water, and before you know it, you're hunched over and emptying the contents of your stomach onto the ground.
sukuna is at your side in an instant, pulling your hair away from your face, but while one of your hands is braced against the concrete, the other endeavors to push him away.
his body doesn't budge at the contact, but he takes a step back anyway in an attempt to respect your wishes.
your mind is a mess filled with racing thoughts— what the fuck? this cannot be happening. what the hell even happened in this first place? that man was there and then he wasn't.
inhaling sharply, you wipe at your mouth and shift to pull your knees to your chest.
"what..." you trail off, surveying the unutterable, incomprehensible scene before you. "what did you do?"
he doesn't respond, though his features noticeably soften. somewhere in the back of your mind, you know very well what he did, but you can't help repeating. "what did you do?"
"we need to leave." it's not that sukuna couldn't handle whoever might show up, but seeing as this is your reaction, he has no desire to. "if you let me touch you, i can take us home."
you take a moment to think about it, then nod wordlessly. as soon as his hand falls on your shoulder, you're met with that same sensation you felt the night gojo teleported you and yuuji home after one too many drinks.
though this time, the sick feeling in your stomach isn't caused by liquor. you don't stand up, you don't so much as move a muscle when you feel the surface beneath you shift from concrete to carpet.
sukuna breathes out your name, his uncertainty evidenced by the way he's shoved his hands into his pockets. meeting his eye, you reiterate the same inquiry once more. "what did you do?"
it's almost as if you want him to tell you that he didn't do anything. that the whole experience was some disturbing nightmare.
"those men would have hurt you."
"that doesn't mean they deserved to die." you choke on the final word.
"yes— it does."
with that, silence hangs in the air like a suffocating miasma.
looking to your hands, you're reminded of the blood you've been spattered with. "i need to wash up."
you still don't move from your spot, too fixated on your flesh and the dreadful hue that it's been painted with. sukuna notices now that you're trembling.
he approaches you hesitantly before extending his hand. "let me help you."
you decline his offer, shying away from him. "i think you've done enough already."
god, the look in your eye is utterly despondent. he struggles to swallow the lump that forms in his throat.
his arm falls limply to his side and he looks across the room, your copy of the stranger earning his attention.
he's overcome with chagrin when he realizes that his concern brought about by camus' quote the other night was wholly misguided. he'd been focused on his own feelings, whether they were genuine or simply wrought by his isolation.
how foolish was he to ever question what you truly mean to him? with the anguish that's settled in his chest at the sight of your current state, the fact he ever doubted it makes him feel like a hopeless idiot.
had he any sense at all, the part that resonated with him would have been—
she mumbled that i was peculiar, that that was probably why she loved me but that one day i might disgust her for the same reason.
disgust. is that what you're feeling now? he's certain it is.
it was just last week that he relayed the story of his past. you're the only person alive to know the truth of how his wickedness came to be, and you met him with unconditional sympathy and understanding.
you pulled him close and embraced him, but now that you've seen him for what he truly is...? you can barely stand to touch him and it's like a knife to his heart.
you're so fucking warm— like the sun against his skin after weeks of endless rain.
and if you're the sun, surely he is the moon— cold and barren on his own, but brilliant when in the presence of your light.
to be without that? to be without you? it's a prospect too terrible for him to bear. it makes his stomach twist miserably.
you're startled (as is he) when his form falls to the floor, his knees meeting the carpet with a dull thud. he calls out your name again, but this time, his voice cracks as he speaks. "please."
he doesn't have a clue what he's even asking for. a chance to explain? forgiveness? a way to turn back time?
you don't say anything, but you do shift your gaze to him. he knows that he needs to fix this, so he wracks his mind for the right words.
"i didn't enjoy killing those men." he's somewhat surprised to find he's telling the truth.
"you didn't?" your voice is so small and timid that he can hardly decipher your words.
"no. my only concern was to keep you safe— to make sure they never put their hands on you ever again. all i felt was rage and... and... guilt. i should have never left you alone and it's my fault—"
"stop," you interrupt him.
there are tears welling in your eyes, making it difficult for sukuna to breathe. he's positive you're going to tell him that his intentions were of little consequence and that you never want to see him ever again.
instead, you push yourself forward and collapse against his body, your own wracked with violent sobs. the reality of the situation is only just now hitting you. it'd been much easier to focus on what sukuna had done, rather than what almost happened to you.
"i was so scared, 'kuna."
and still, despite the way you're clinging to his shirt and burying your face in chest, he's under the impression that it's him you were afraid of.
"i'm sorry," he tells you earnestly. "i never meant to frighten you."
"n-not of you. those men." you're struggling to speak in between desperate gasps. "why did they do that? what did they want with me?"
"i don't know." though, he is going to find out.
sukuna is not a man well versed in comfort, so he's not entirely sure why he begins rocking you back and forth, but he does it anyway.
when you finally start to breathe a little easier, he mumbles into your hair, "come on. let's get you cleaned up."
he doesn't give you a chance to respond before he scoops you up in his arms and carries you to the bathroom. setting you down on the counter gently, he searches the linen closet for a cloth.
it's quiet, save for your intermittent sniffling, as he runs it under warm water and wrings it out. his free hand moves to rest against the side of your neck and he dabs at the blood on your face, rinsing the washcloth every now and then.
he tries his best not to show it, but sukuna is agonizing over what might be going through your mind.
do you still feel safe with him? have your feelings changed? do you still love him, even when you've been so harshly reminded what he's capable of?
when you speak for the first time your words are hoarse, barely above a whisper. "thank you for saving me, sukuna."
he thinks about telling you not to thank him, not when it shouldn't have happened in the first place. he left your side, an error in judgement he'll never forgive himself for.
he considers your mortality— your weakness— in relation to his feelings for you. he's always seen this exceptionally human quality as despicable.
but now? all it does is terrify him.
"in the past, i was only concerned with my own whims and desires." his hand moves to cradle your face, his thumb running over your cheekbone. "though after tonight... you have to know..."
it's clear that he's struggling. his eyebrows draw together and his mouth twitches as he ponders his next words.
"i care about you, angel." his voice is hushed when he adds, "very much."
your eyes widen briefly and you murmur his name, but your mind is still reeling from the events of the past twenty minutes and you can't think of anything more to say. you're emotionally exhausted in a way you would have never thought possible.
it's plain to him too, so he knows his next question is selfish, but he can't go on without knowing. "does what you saw tonight change things between us?"
the silence preceding your answer seems to stretch on forever.
"i thought it would," you confess eventually. it was as if you'd put up a wall in your mind separating sukuna the king of curses from sukuna the man you spend your evenings with.
and it's difficult to reconcile the fact that the hands you saw used to murder two men are the same hands that are caressing your face so delicately.
at some point, however, you realized that the only time you felt fear tonight was when you were without him. his arrival and ensuing actions inspired shock and apprehension, though in some twisted way, you knew it meant you were safe. "but it doesn't."
the next question tumbles from your lips thoughtlessly. "does that make me a bad person?"
he chuckles and some of the tension in the room dissipates. "i think i'm the last one on earth that can pass moral judgement on you."
he tucks your hair behind your ear and scans your face, relief coursing through his body when he sees you smile. in this moment, there isn't anything else in the world he would have asked for.
"i guess you're right."
and now, the hand over your mouth is your own, an attempt to stifle your tired giggles. the light of the bathroom is warm and steady. sukuna's hands rest atop your hips, his touch firm but comforting. while you can't feel your own heartbeat, you're positive it must be beating in time with his.
when you crawl into bed that night sukuna pulls you close, your back pressed to his bare chest. you're thankful for the softness of his demeanor, because you need it tonight more than ever.
he doesn't recede to his domain until yuuji wakes up the following morning. he's determined to keep an eye on you as you sleep, to watch the slow rise and fall of your chest with newfound gratitude.
he knows he needs to speak with the brat about what happened. someone is after you and while he hates to admit it, he knows he can't ensure your safety alone.
and he will keep you safe, no matter the cost.
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genshinluvr · 1 year
Text
The Fallen Star
Pairings: Various Honkai Star Rail Men x Isekai'd!Reader
Summary: You wake up in a void and see someone towering over you. He's breathtaking and covers the sun and sky. One minute you are talking to him, but then you gain consciousness. You wake up to a silver-haired man giving you (failed) CPR, only to find yourself on the Xianzhou Luofu with four other people who soon later become your (temporary?) traveling companions.
Note: Welcome to my first Honkai Star Rail fanfiction! This work is part of a brand new series called "Brightest Star in the Universe." Yes, it's Isekai like the Genshin fics. This is going to be cross-posted on AO3 as well (like all of my fics). To be honest, I didn't think I was going to be posting a Honkai Star Rail series so soon, but here I am. Since there are unreleased characters in this series (Luocha and Blade), their personalities are going to be a bit out of character. Then again, most HSR men's personalities are going to be out of character for a bit until I'm familiar with all of them. I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).
Warnings: Mentions of blood, but it's not bad
Word Count: 8.6k
The last thing you remembered before you woke up was a tall man towering over you, blocking the sun and sky from your view. He had silver-white hair and tanned skin, and his arms were in pieces, gold bleeding through the cracks over his body. He was beautiful, but his beauty intimidated you. The way he gazed at you, his eyebrows furrowed.
You felt yourself tremble beneath his gaze. Who was this man, and why was he bigger than the sun and sky? “Where am I? Who are you?” You whispered, your voice trembling with fear and confusion.
The world around you rumbled, making you wince and look around in panic. It took you a moment to realize that the huge man before you was chuckling. The man gazed at you with amusement before squatting down before you without taking his eyes off of you. Wait, does he even have legs?
“My name is not important, little one,” he replies. “You and I will meet again soon, but for now, it’s time for you to wake up from your slumber.”
You looked at him quizzically before scanning your surroundings. There was no one else but you and him. You and this man were in a vortex of some sort. The light is blocked out by his figure. You pinched yourself and winced in pain. What does he mean by ‘wake up from your slumber?’ Were you not awake the entire time?
You look at the man, only to see that he is still staring at you with an unreadable expression on his face. “What do you mean by that?” You whispered.
The silence in the void is deafening. Even if you whispered, your voice echoed in the abyss. You shifted in your spot before getting up from the ground. You dust your clothes off and gaze at the ginormous man before you, waiting for him to answer. The world around you slowly turns black, and the man nods at you before your vision turns black.
Just as you’re gaining consciousness, you hear voices around you. The voices are muffled, almost as if you’re underwater, and the voices of the people are above you and all over the place. Your ears are ringing, and your limbs feel like lead. You want to open your eyes, but your eyelids feel heavy.
“Are you sure they’re alive?” You hear a girl ask.
You hear a slow sigh coming from your left. “Of course, they’re alive, March. Can’t you see the steady rise and fall of their chest?” the male to your left asks.
“If they’re alive, then why are they not waking up? Aside from being unconscious, of course,” says March.
You feel someone tap your cheeks repeatedly. You groan and try to swat the hands away from your face, only for your hands to fall back to the ground. The girl named March lets out a loud gasp. 
The man beside you lets out a sigh. “March, can you go find Mr. Yang? In the meantime, Caelus and I will stand guard and make sure this person is okay,” he says.
‘March’ makes a disgruntled noise before stomping away. Something beneath you shifts, and you open your eyes to see a silver-haired man leaning down, his lips puckering. You open your mouth to say something, but the man covers your mouth with his. You let out a combination of a squeak and a gasp. The silver-haired man backs up and looks down at you with wide eyes, his fringe covering a part of his eyes. 
The silver-haired man blushes and clears his throat. “It’s good to see that you’re awake! Ahem… how are you feeling?” He asks.
You swallow the lump in your throat and slowly prop yourself up on your arms, rubbing the back of your neck. “I-I’m fine! Um… that’s an interesting way to wake someone up,” you said, giving the silver-haired man a sheepish smile. 
“I was trying to give you CPR, but that didn’t turn out how I thought it was going to,” replies the silver-haired man, his cheeks flushing red. He looks over at the black-haired man with a glare. The man with black hair looks away, his lips pressed into a thin line while his shoulders are shaking. The silver-haired man narrows his eyes at the black-haired man before punching him in the shoulders lightly, causing the man to grunt and let out a cough. Was he laughing? You sit up and look around, dazed and confused about how you ended up on a ship. Wait, is it a ship? Where are you?
You clear your throat and rub your throbbing temples. How did you end up on a ship? Or wherever you are. Gosh, you’re so out of it that you’re having a hard time figuring out where you’re at. You close your eyes, feeling a wave of nausea hit you like a train. One minute you were in a void with an extremely tall man that bleeds gold, and now you’re somewhere with two men at your side. One man is trying to stifle his laughter, while the other is almost as red as tomatoes. 
The red-faced silver-haired man clears his throat. “My name is Caelus, and the one that’s laughing beside us is Dan Heng,” Caelus says, nudging Dan Heng beside him with a small glare as if he’s telling Dan Heng to be quiet.
Dan Heng clears his throat before fixing his composure, crossing his arms over his chest. “How are you feeling? You were out cold when we found you on the Xianzhou Luofu,” says Dan Heng, staring at you emotionlessly.
“Other than a slight headache, I’m feeling okay. Confused, but okay nonetheless,” you reply. 
The two men stand up while you remain on the floor. You continue to take in your surroundings, eyes focusing on the stars hanging above you and the two men on this…. ship. You’re on a flagship… in space… traveling to who knows where. You look at the men behind you, pointing at your surroundings.
You clear your throat. “So, I was unconscious on the Xianzhou Luofu? That’s how you two found me?” You ask, rubbing your eyes while remaining on the ground. “Huh. How did I end up here?”
Rapid footsteps approach you, Dan Heng, and Caelus. You look up to see a pink-haired girl running toward the three of you, with a brown-haired man following close behind. The pink-haired girl’s eyes light up when the two of you make eye contact. You get up from the ground, dusting off your clothes.
The girl and brown-haired man stop before you. “Oh, goodie! You’re awake this time! I was starting to get worried!” She says, propping her hands on her hips. “Mr. Yang, this is the unconscious person I was telling you about! Well, they’re not unconscious anymore, but we stumbled across them when we split up while trying to look for Kafka.”
The brown-haired man— or Mr. Yang— strokes his chin while analyzing you from head to toe. You’re definitely not from the Xianzhou Luofu, and you’re certainly not from Jarlio-VI. 
The man hums before crossing his arms over his chest. “Do you know how you ended up here?” asks Mr. Yang.
You shake your head. “I don’t know how I ended up here. One minute, I was in a void with a man that towered over me, and now I somehow ended up on a ship.” You reply. 
Now that you said it out loud, you wouldn’t believe yourself if you were someone else. Would these people believe you? The pink girl hums thoughtfully, tilting her head to the side while gazing at you curiously.
“I’m March 7th, by the way! But you can call me March! This man here is Welt Yang!” She gestures to the brown-haired man beside her. “I’m assuming those two have introduced themselves to you already?”
You nod. “They have! Apologies for not introducing myself earlier, but my name’s [Y/N].” You say, rubbing the back of your neck with a sheepish smile.
You look at your surroundings. While you’re on the Xianzhou Luofu, you’re not entirely sure where you, Dan Heng, Caelus, Mr. Yang (should you call him by his first name or by his last name?), and March are precisely on the ship. Looking at your surroundings, all you see are boxes— you’re assuming they’re cargo of some sort. The air is nice and chilly, causing goosebumps to appear on your arms.
“We have to meet with General Jing Yuan. There are some things we still need to discuss with him,” Mr. Yang says, pulling his phone out to look at the time.
March points at you. “What do we do with [Y/N]? Do we bring them along with us as well?” asks March, looking at Mr. Yang for answers.
Your eyes widen, and you shake your head, waving your hands in front of you. “Oh, no! You don’t have to bring me along with you guys! Plus, you mentioned meeting with a general…. That sounds important, and I don’t want to intrude. After all, I am an outsider and, uh, don’t fit in this situation,” you said.
The five of them were heading to meet with the General of the Xianzhou Luofu. Dan Heng, Caelus, and March ended up stumbling across your unconscious body on the Xianzhou Luofu in an area where there aren’t many people roaming around. You sort of threw them off while they were headed toward their destination. Surely you can’t just tag along with them now, can you?
March huffs and frowns at you. “Hey! You’re not the only one who’s an outsider! The four of us aren’t from the Xianzhou Luofu either!” March interjects, stepping toward you and linking her arm around yours. “Besides! I think you should tag along with us either way! We don’t want to leave you behind, especially when you’re not from the Xianzhou Luofu! You are now a Trailblazer like us!” 
Mr. Yang sighs and pushes his glasses up. “Let’s go. We have no time to lose. [Y/N], we’ll talk about this after meeting with General Jing Yuan,” says Mr. Yang, looking in your direction.
You nod and follow after the group, setting off to the location where General Jing Yuan told them to meet. 
Upon arriving at the destination, you have concluded that you like the Xianzhou Luofu! Not only is it beautiful and vast, with a nice view of the universe, but you find the citizens of the Xianzhou Luofu interesting, and you’re curious about everything, really. 
Now that you think about it, the ship and the people you’re tagging along with feel familiar. You know what this place is; you know it! It’s on the tip of your tongue, but dealing with sudden scenery changes and the brain fog is throwing you off.
The grand doors open, and the five of you step into the room. You look around, eyes wide with wonder and curiosity. Many people are walking in and out of the room, people gathering around in one spot while others are tending to their duties on the ship. Mr. Yang, March, Dan Heng, Caelus, and you approach the white-haired man sitting on a chair. He seems to be occupied with the game of chess. You can’t tell if his blond opponent looks frustrated or focused. His eyebrows furrowed, and his eyes focused on the chessboard before the two of them. Hearing footsteps approaching their direction, the blond boy and white-haired man look at your group.
The white-haired man stands up, looking at the blond boy and nodding. The blond boy gets up from his seat and walks off, looking at your group from the corner of his eyes as he passes the five of you.
“I hope the journey wasn’t too complicated. It’s good to see you all again,” says the white-haired man.
Mr. Yang nods. “General Jing Yuan, it’s nice to see you again. We’re here to discuss the matters you wanted to speak to us about regarding the situation….” Mr. Yang’s voice slowly becomes muffled as you continue to look at your surroundings.
There are holograms of the people, you assume, that work on the Xianzhou Luofu! Holograms! You have never seen a hologram before, and it looks so cool! What was this place called again? You recalled that they were supposed to meet up at the general’s office, but the location was changed. Was the office called the Seat of the Divine Foresight? Although, with the number of people going in and out of the room, it’s certainly not the general’s office. Where in the world are you exactly? Gosh, it’s like you have the name on the tip of your tongue, but it’s not coming out.
“Care to introduce me to your new friend?” General Jing Yuan’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts.
You blink and look up to see General Jing Yuan looking right at you. You freeze in your spot like a deer in headlights, blinking at the white-haired man owlishly. A soft smile appears on his face, a low rumbling coming from his chest. You couldn’t help but feel intimidated by his presence. Such power and authority exude from the man standing before the five of you. 
Your face heats up when more people look in your direction. You clear your throat and stand there awkwardly, not sure what to do. Sure, you could introduce yourself to General Jing Yuan, but you were hoping he didn’t notice a new face around the Xianzhou Luofu. You point at yourself dumbly, blinking cluelessly at the man approaching you. Oh gosh, he’s walking toward you. 
General Jing Yuan nods. “Yes, I was talking to you. I’ve never seen you around the Xianzhou Luofu, nor have I seen you with Welt Yang and his traveling companions,” says General Jing Yuan, now standing in front of you.
Dear gosh, this man is standing right in front of you. He’s not a hologram. He’s flesh and blood. If you reach out right now, you would be touching him with your hands. You give General Jing Yuan a shy smile, face hotter than ever.
You raise your hand in an awkward wave before introducing yourself. “Hi! I, uh, my name’s [Y/N]! It’s a pleasure to meet you, General Jing Yuan!” You squeak.
General Jing Yuan lets out a hearty laugh. “It’s nice to meet you, [Y/N]. Please, just call me Jing Yuan. No need to call me General— General is merely a temporary title,” says Jing Yuan, giving you a cat-like smile.
Jing Yuan grabs your hand gently and raises your hand to his face before pressing a kiss on your knuckles without breaking eye contact. Dear gosh, it’s like this man wants your face to feel hotter than it already is. 
“Since when is he a flirt?” You hear March mutter to Caelus, Dan Heng, and Mr. Yang. 
Jing Yuan releases your hand while you stand there awkwardly while tucking your hair behind your ear. You give Jing Yuan a flustered smile before looking away after clearing your throat. Dan Heng sighs while Mr. Yang steps up, grabbing Jing Yuan’s attention. You take a step back and stand between Dan Heng and Caelus, refusing to look at them after feeling intense stares at your head.
“That was something,” Caelus comments, crossing his arms over his chest.
Dan Heng hums in agreement. “It really is, isn’t it? Who knew that the General of the Xianzhou Luofu has such a charm,” Dan Heng comments.
You clear your throat again. “Maybe it’s how people greet on the Xianzhou Luofu!” You say.
March scrunches her nose and shakes her head. “They don’t do that on the Xianzhou Luofu. We’ve visited a couple of times, but not once were we greeted like how the General greeted you, [Y/N],” March teases, giving you a cheeky smile.
While Mr. Yang and Jing Yuan are conversing with each other about the situation, Dang Heng, Caelus, and March would interject here and there while the two are speaking. As usual, since you’re not part of the conversation, you would space out and look at your surroundings. It’s tempting to wander off, but you stay where you’re standing and listen to their conversation.
The doors to the room fly open, and enter a man with long, blond hair and a brown-haired girl with pigtails. The girl looks mildly miffed, while the blond man looks pleased with himself as he follows the girl into the room with a giant casket behind him. You look at the casket in horror and look at Caelus, Dan Heng, and March. The trio did not seem to be phased by the fact that the blond man was carrying around a casket like it was a backpack. 
The blond man notices you’re staring at him, and he smiles at you, keeping a firm grip on the casket behind him. “I see you notice the coffin behind me,” he comments.
You nod in response. “Yeah! It’s, uh, hard to overlook it,” you reply.
The brown-haired girl huffs and crosses her arms over her chest with a deep frown on her face. “It’s strange, isn’t it?” asks the girl, looking in your direction.
You blink at her with surprise. “Ah, strange?” You squeak. 
What was she talking about? The man carrying a large casket with him, or was there something else you’re missing? After all, she did enter the room with the blond man, looking visibly peeved.
The brown-haired girl drags out a sigh, propping her right hand on her hip. “For a foreign trader like himself to be carrying a casket around so casually,” she replies. “I didn’t think it was a casket until I asked him about it.”
The blond man clears his throat. “This coffin isn't mine, Sushang. I was merely entrusted to take the body back to the Xianzhou Luofu,” the man says casually. “My name’s Luocha. As Sushang said, I am a foreign trader. Currently, I was tasked to return this casket to the Xianzhou Luofu.” He gestures to the casket behind him.
You stare at the casket and then look at the blond man, who raises his eyebrows at you with an amused look. It seems like Luocha knows what you want to ask him. What is in the casket? More importantly, who is in the coffin, and why does he need to deliver it back to the Xianzhou Luofu?
Luocha crosses his arms over his chest. “It’s alright if you want to ask who’s in the coffin. I’ve had a few people ask me the same question while on my journey to the Xianzhou Luofu,” says Luocha, looking at Sushang from the corner of his eyes.
You give Luocha a sheepish smile and shake your head. “No, no! I wasn’t going to ask you that question! I was wondering how you can carry a coffin around for so long without getting tired of it. You would think there would be an easier way to transport a casket,” you say.
You did wonder who was in the coffin. I mean, like Luocha said, he has had a few people ask him who (or what) was in the large casket behind him. As much as you’re curious, you don’t think it would be appropriate to ask since it’s none of your business, and it would be rude to ask.
Sushang looks at you curiously, examining you from head to toe. “You don’t look like you’re from the Xianzhou Luofu. Are you Dan Heng’s newly added traveling companion?” asks Sushang.
You make an uncertain noise, giving Sushang and Luocha a ‘so-so’ gesture. “Kind of! I… I’m not sure if now is the right time to explain the situation,” you murmur, turning to look at your new traveling companions.
March, Dan Heng, and Caelus shrug their shoulders simultaneously. You sigh and turn to look at Luocha and Sushang with a fake smile. Now would be a good time to leave the Xianzhou Luofu, but even if you were to leave the ship, would they (your temporary traveling companions) be okay with you tagging along? 
Sushang looks at you curiously. “Oh? Why do you seem uncertain about being their new traveling companions?” Sushang asks.
You press your lips into a thin line and rock back and forth on the balls of your feet. Would this be a good time to tell them (Sushang, Luocha, and Jing Yuan) about your situation? Maybe they’ll know the answer to it! Hopefully, they know the answer! You go on to tell Sushang and Luocha your situation: how you wake up to Caelus giving you CPR, and you find yourself on the Xianzhou Luofu despite not being from the Xianzhou Luofu. 
Sushang hums and strokes her chin, squinting her eyes at you while chewing on the inside of her cheek. “Do you have memory loss by any chance?” Sushang asks.
Your gaze falls to the ground after hearing her question. Now that you think about it, the last thing you remembered before waking up was being in the void with a man towering over you. He’s so huge that he covered the sun and sky! Should you mention that to them too? You don’t know the man’s name. He told you his name isn’t important, but you know that’s not the case.
“I guess? I don’t really know how I ended up here, really. The last thing I remembered before waking up was being in a void with this tall person, but then I gained consciousness, and here I am!” You say, shrugging your shoulders. 
They all probably think you’re crazy after explaining to them the last thing you saw before waking up to Caelus giving you CPR. You weren’t lying about being in a void with an extremely tall person. Technically, he wasn’t tall— he was a giant. They all look at you like you have just grown a second head. 
Mr. Yang walks over to the group and nods at you, Dan Heng, March, and Caelus. “Alright, General Jing Yuan has given me some information on what we need to do. So far, there aren’t many things to check on the Xianzhou Luofu, but we do have to stop by Jarlio-VI per Caelus’ request,” says Mr. Yang.
March looks at Mr. Yang quizzically. “Why stop by Jarlio-VI? We have already completed what we needed to do on Jarlio-VI,” says March, crossing her arms over her chest.
Caelus hands his phone over to March. March grabs Caelus’ phone and skims through the messages on Caelus’ phone. March sighs and nods, handing Caelus back his phone before propping her hands on her hips.
“Well, it looks like we’ll be seeing some familiar faces again!” March announces.
You look at the group cluelessly, rubbing your arm. Does that mean you’ll have to go to Jarlio-VI with the group as well? I mean, there’s nowhere else for you to go, really. The best option is to tag along with the people that found you unconscious.
March nudges you and gestures to follow her and the three men. “Let’s go! I’ll introduce you to Pom-Pom and Himeko! You’ll love them and the Astral Express!” March grins, grabbing your wrist and pulling you along.
The five of you wave to Sushang, Jing Yuan, and Luocha goodbye before walking out of the room. You didn’t know where they were leading you, but you assumed it was to an area where the four of them were dropped off before they found you unconscious on the ground of the Xianzhou Luofu. 
Right when the five of you are about to reach your destination (or, that’s what you’re assuming because you’re not familiar with the Xianzhou Luofu, nor are you sure where they’re taking you), a figure swoops in out of nowhere and snatches you from March’s grasp.
Everyone stops in their tracks and turns to look at the person holding you hostage. Your back is pressing against the man’s chest, and you feel the man press his sword up against your neck. March, Caelus, and Mr. Yang glare at the man behind you while Dan Heng looks like he just witnessed someone massacre everyone in his village. You swallow your fear and slowly turn your head to see a man with long, dark hair and red eyes. His eyes are focusing on the people standing in front of the two of you.
“So this is the fallen star Kafka mentioned,” the man mutters, looking down at you.
You blink at the man behind you and look at the others cluelessly. “Who is this man, and what does he mean by that?” You ask.
The man behind you tightens his grip around you, his arm wrapping across your chest while continuing to press the sword against your neck. March glares at the man behind you and seethes with anger.
“Let them go, Blade! Don’t involve them in anything!” March shouts.
Dan Heng takes a step closer toward you and Blade, only for Blade to take a step back, bringing you with him. Blade glares at Dan Heng and the others, pressing the edge of the sword against your neck. You close your eyes and visibly wince when the blade nicked your neck, causing a trail of blood to slowly trickle down. Dan Heng and Caelus glare at Blade, getting ready to step forward, when Mr. Yang grabs onto both of the men’s shoulders, shaking his head. 
Blade smirks and chuckles. “I wouldn’t step any closer if I were you. If you want them to come out unscathed, then you will comply with my and Kafka’s orders,” said Blade.
You nudge the man behind you. “What do you mean when you mentioned fallen star? I’m not a fallen star,” you grumble, glaring at Blade from the corner of your eyes. “And for your information, I didn’t come out unscathed.” You gesture to your neck.
One minute you were in a void with an enormous man before you, then you woke up to Caelus giving you CPR on the Xianzhou Luofu, and now you’re being held hostage by a man named Blade on the Xianzhou Luofu. Can this get any worse?
Blade huffs and tightens his grip around you, not taking his eyes off the people standing before you and him. “Two hours before your arrival to the Xianzhou Luofu, Kafka reported a strange light flying across the galaxy. That light was presumed to be a fallen star, and the light led to the Xianzhou Luofu. In case none of you realized it, the fallen star is this one right here,” says Blade, gesturing to you.
You furrow your eyebrows after hearing Blade’s explanation. You have to be honest here; whatever Blade just said to you, Mr. Yang, Dan Heng, Caelus, and March, it sounds ridiculous. You? A fallen star? What does that even mean? You fell out from the sky and somehow ended up on the Xianzhou Luofu? Not only does it sound ridiculous, but it doesn’t seem probable because you didn’t have any markings on you aside from the cut on your neck from Blade’s sword.
You close your eyes and rest your head on Blade’s shoulders, catching him off guard. You turn your head slightly and peek at him. “And what do you and this Kafka person want from me exactly? You make it seem like I’m some rare gem from space, finally crashing and landing somewhere,” you comment.
Blade remains silent, staring down at you while you stare at him in return. It almost seems like he doesn’t have a plan for what to do with you. Other than holding you hostage in front of your (possibly) temporary traveling companions. You frown at Blade after a few minutes of him not responding to your question. You elbow Blade in the gut before pushing his arms off you with a huff, walking away from the man.
You and the others were surprised to see that Blade didn’t retaliate. He seems to be the type that gets set off easily. But since he didn’t slash at you or lash out at you for elbowing him in the stomach and pushing his arms off your person, it genuinely shocked the others. You rub and graze your fingers over the cut on your neck. 
You narrow your eyes at Blade and walk over to where the others are standing. March runs up to you to assess the open wound on your neck. March sighs in relief, looking over at Blade with a glare before pulling you to the side while Caelus, Dan Heng, and Mr. Yang deal with Blade to the side.
You watch Blade, Dan Heng, Caelus, and Mr. Yang stand before each other, not saying a word. Their weapons are drawn out, but no one has started anything. They all stand there, staring at each other in silence, while March struggles to pull a bandaid out from her pocket. March hands you the bandaid after successfully grabbing the bandaid. 
March turns to look at the four men with one hand on her hip while the other is on your shoulder. “Hey, are you guys just going to stand there and stare at each other all day, or are you guys going to fight it out?” demands March, glaring at the men.
Blade smirks and tightens his grip on his sword. “If that’s what you want, then a fight is what you shall receive,” says Blade.
Blade was about to lunge at the three men before him, but a woman with red wine-colored hair appeared out of nowhere, placing her hand on Blade’s shoulders. Blade stops in his tracks and looks over his shoulders at the woman. 
She gives him a smile and chuckles, looking in your direction. “It’s good to see you, little shooting star. I apologize that you had to meet us this way, but our destinies are intertwined no matter where you go and how far we are from each other,” says the woman.
Everyone stares at the woman in silence. Everyone but you seem tensed at her mere presence. She takes her hand off Blade’s shoulders before walking toward your and March’s direction. Caelus and Dan Heng block her way, holding their weapons out in front of them while glaring at the woman.
The woman frowns and looks at Caelus with a pout. Almost like she was mocking him. “Oh, Caelus. Do you not trust me after all we’ve been through?” she asks, crossing her arms over her chest.
March lets out a loud scoff. “Can you blame us for not trusting you after all that stuff you put us through, Kafka?!” March asks, glaring at the red wine-colored-haired woman.
‘Kafka?’ you mouthed to yourself, furrowing your eyebrows. The gorgeous woman is Kafka? Not only was she stunning, but the way she was looking at you was sending chills down your spine. There’s something about her you couldn’t put your fingers on. She seems powerful and the leader of this whole situation. Maybe the word ring-leader would suit her since Blade does follow her orders around like a dog. 
Kafka turns around and starts walking away. “Come on, Bladie. It seems like we’ll have to find another time to meet [Y/N] again. For now, let’s part our ways,” says Kafka.
You freeze in your spot and look at Kafka with wide eyes. How in the world does she know your name when you haven’t introduced yourself to Blade and Kafka? Kafka looks over her shoulders and smiles at you before disappearing from everyone’s sight. Blade huffs and puts his sword away, turning around and following after Kafka. 
March huffs. “Kafka and her dog are going to search for [Y/N] again. I don’t think it’s safe for them to be alone,” March states, looking at Mr. Yang, Dan Heng, and Caelus. “It’s best they remain on the Astral Express with us until further notice.”
You furrow your eyebrows and give March a questioning look. What does she mean by you remaining on the Astral Express until further notice? Until you find a home somewhere and can finally leave them alone? Where are you going to go? You’re on a ship that’s traversing through space, and now you’re going to be on a train that also travels through space. 
“Let’s return to the Astral Express, and then we can talk about it after stopping by Jarlio-VI,” says Mr. Yang.
The five of you continued your way to the area where Dan Heng, Caelus, March, and Mr. Yang were dropped off. You’re kind of excited to step foot on the Astral Express and Jarlio-VI. Mainly Jarlio-VI because of how March described it, along with the stories she told you when she, Caelus, and Dan Heng visited the frozen planet due to the eternal freeze.
A frozen planet sounds interesting because not many things can survive and thrive in such conditions. It makes you wonder if there were any wild animals that roam Jarlio-VI aside from humans and creatures March, Dan Heng, and Caelus passively mentioned. Speaking of creatures the trio mentioned, you’re hoping you won’t have to deal with it or get caught in the crossfire. 
Your stay on the Astral Express was short, and you met Pom-Pom and Himeko! They’re very welcoming, and Himeko is like an older sister, and perhaps a mother, figure to you despite you knowing her for less than a few hours. Despite your visitation of the Astral Express being short, you somehow managed to fall asleep while the train was headed to Jarlio-VI.
When you open your eyes, you find yourself in the void again. The very same void you were in before you woke up to Caelus giving you (failed) CPR. You look around, and there is the man towering over you. 
You frown at the (gorgeous) man and rub your eyes. “It seems like the only time I’ll see you again is through my dreams, huh? I’m starting to think you’re not real and that you’re a figment of my imagination,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. 
The man chuckles and gazes at you with an amused look on his face. Damn, his smile is breathtaking, but it’s too bad he’s not real. Or at least that’s what you’re assuming. The man beckons you to come closer. You push yourself off the ground and walk toward him while scanning your surroundings. 
You weren’t just in a void, but there were tiny stars sparkling around you and the massive man before you. The man holds his hand out, placing them before you. You stare at his hands questionably before stepping on his hand, letting him lift you to his eye level.
“We will meet very soon, little one. Now is not a good time to meet,” he says.
You frown at the man, letting out a huff before crossing your arms over your chest like a petulant child. “No matter what you tell me, I’ll always assume you’re a figment of my imagination. At least tell me your name,” you murmur, looking at him from the corner of your eyes.
The man smiles at you and nods. “My name’s Nanook and I promise we will meet in person soon. For now, this is the only way I will be able to communicate with you--- through your dreams.” He caresses your hair with his index finger.
You stare at Nanook without saying a word, still not convinced that he’s real. Nanook sighs and gives you a small smile. From a distance, you hear someone call your name. You look away from Nanook and begin searching for the voice. Nanook sighs, putting you back on the ground and smiling at you almost sadly. You’re about to ask him what was wrong when the world around you slowly fades away.
“Wake up!”
Your eyelids snap open, and you sit up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. March sighs and collapses across from you while Caelus and Dan Heng stand to the side with unreadable expressions on their faces. 
March huffs and narrows her eyes at you. “Finally! I’ve been trying to wake you up for the past ten minutes!” March says.
You blink at March and look at Dan Heng and Caelus, who nods in response. How long have you been asleep? March was trying to wake you up for ten minutes, but it didn’t feel that long. You were with Nanook in your dreams for what felt like three minutes or less. Were you asleep for that long?
“We’re arriving at Jarlio-VI very soon. Gepard and Sampo will be meeting us at the Administrative District,” says Dan Heng.
Caelus and Dan Heng walk off, leaving you and March alone on the couch. Caelus nudges Dan Heng, looking at you from over his shoulders and then at the black-haired man worriedly. Dan Heng chews on the inside of his cheek, leaning against the wall while waiting for the Astral Express to reach its destination.
“You heard that, right? [Y/N] mumbling Nanook’s name in their sleep,” says Caelus.
Dan Heng nods. Before Dan Heng can reply, the Astral Express comes to a complete stop, and Pom-Pom announces the Astral Express’s arrival to Jarlio-VI from where they were standing. You and March get up from the couch and stretch your arms and legs. 
You rub the base of your neck and wince when you feel it strain. Great, now you have a crick in your neck from sleeping on the couch in the Astral Express for who knows how long. March loops her arms around yours, dragging you out of the Astral Express with Dan Heng and Caelus following behind. 
March looks over her shoulders, shouting, “Come on, Mr. Yang! We don’t have all day!” March continues to pull you along to the Administrative District with a wide smile on her face while you’re trying your best to keep up with the hyperactive girl. 
Himeko crosses her arms over her chest and taps on her chin. “You feel it too, right?” Himeko asks, looking over at the brown-haired man.
Mr. Yang raises his eyebrows at Himeko, waiting for her to clarify. Himeko chuckles, shaking her head, looking at the entrance of the Astral Express, where you, March, Dan Heng, and Caelus ran out. Technically, you were dragged out of the Astral Express by March.
“The sense of familiarity with [Y/N]. Almost like we know them despite never meeting them. This connection….” Himeko trails off, humming softly. Himeko chuckles and looks at Mr. Yang, gesturing for him to follow after you, March, Dan Heng, and Caelus.
Back to you and the trio, the three of you walk around the Administrative District searching for these Gepard and Sampo people. From what you have been told, Gepard is the little brother of Serval, and Sampo is some con artist the trio met in the underworld. You’re looking forward to meeting Gepard and Sampo! They sound like interesting people, especially Sampo.
“Fams! There you guys are!” You hear someone call from a distance.
The four of you turn in the direction of the voice to see an indigo-haired man and a blond man approaching your group. The indigo-haired man smiles widely and waves at the four of you. When you and the indigo-haired man make eye contact, his eyes seem to light up, and the smile on his face becomes wider before he sprints in your and the trio’s direction.
The green-eyed indigo-haired man and the blond man with blue eyes stop before your group, looking at you curiously. You can’t help but feel self-conscious under their gaze. Their clothes are interesting, but it looks nice on them. Wait, are you staring at them? You snap out of your thoughts and look away, trying to act like you weren’t staring at them. 
“Caelus, March, Dan Heng, care to introduce us to your new traveling companion?” asks the blond man, staring you down with those blue eyes of his.
March smiles widely and nods before happily introducing you to the two men before you. You smile at them politely and wave at them. The two men introduce themselves to you not long after, and you are glad their names are easy to remember because you’re not the best at remembering the names of the people you have just met.
“Not to come off as rude or anything, but you don’t seem to be from here,” Sampo says, looking at you curiously.
Gepard looks at Sampo from the corner of his eyes before shaking his head. “Sorry if what he said came off as rude. Sampo has no manners,” Gepard mutters, crossing his arms over his chest. 
You laugh and wave your hand in front of you. “No, no, it’s fine! Sampo asked a genuine question, and I’m sure there are other people that are curious as well,” you say, giving Sampo and Gepard a small smile. 
You and the others walk around the Administrative District while you tell Gepard and Sampo the situation. You woke up on the Xianzhou Luofu, unsure of how you ended up on the ship. Prior to gaining consciousness, you were in a void with Nanook. Of course, you didn’t tell Sampo and Gepard about you knowing Nanook’s name, only how he’s a tall figure that covered the sun and sky. 
While you tell the two men your situation, Mr. Yang ends up catching up to your group, and the seven of you stop near the theater. Sampo and Gepard didn’t make a comment on your sudden appearance on the Xianzhou Luofu, but they have tried asking you a few questions. 
“Everything is starting to feel familiar, but I can’t put my finger on it.” You murmur, scanning your surroundings.
Belobog is beautiful and cold, but there’s something unnerving about it. On the other hand, the Xianzhou Luofu doesn’t feel eerie or ominous. The others look at you curiously, wondering what you mean when you say everything is starting to feel familiar. 
Sampo, being the man that he is, slides in front of you and gives you a charming smile before flicking his bangs away from his eyes. “Pardon me saying this so suddenly, but I’m sensing you feel a connection between us?” asks Sampo, gesturing between you and him.
You blink at Sampo. “Yes,” you reply slowly. “I guess that’s a better way of putting it.” 
Sampo looks at you with wide eyes, his cheeks tinting pink. Sampo clears his throat and tucks an invisible strand of hair behind his ears. “Oh? So you do feel that connection between us!” Sampo grins.
Your head is beginning to hurt, and there’s a low ringing in your ears that’s gradually getting louder and louder. You tried to act normal and playfully scoffed at Sampo’s comment before walking to the nearest bench near the theater. When you walk off with March at your side, Gepard looks at Sampo while Dan Heng, Mr. Yang, and Caelus trade glances at each other.
Gepard hums, furrowing his eyebrows. “So, you feel that too?” Gepard mutters.
Sampo does a double take and looks at Gepard with wide eyes. “What do you mean by ‘too’? I was talking to [Y/N], not you!” says Sampo, huffing.
Dan Heng, Caelus, Mr. Yang, and Gepard stare at Sampo with blank expressions. Sampo blinks at them and laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. Gepard sighs, trying to ignore the strange pull in his chest.
“You’re not the only one that feels that connection, you know?” Gepard hisses, glaring at Sampo.
Sampo’s eyes widen, and he holds his hands up in front of him, laughing. “Whoa, there, buddy. Listen, I don’t know what you’re trying to imply, but I don’t feel a connection with you! I feel a connection with [Y/N], but certainly not you! Plus, why would I, Sampo Koski, be with someone that constantly tries to put me in jail?” Sampo asks.
Caelus snorts and rolls his eyes. “That’s not what Gepard is implying, Sampo,” Caelus comments, pressing his lips into a thin line to prevent himself from laughing in Sampo’s face.
Sampo looks at Caelus quizzically, then at Dan Heng. Dan Heng raises an eyebrow at Sampo, crossing his arms over his chest. 
Dan Heng sighs before answering, “Gepard is implying that you’re not the only one that feels the connection with [Y/N]. Gepard feels the same connection with [Y/N] as well.”
Mr. Yang looks at Sampo and Gepard, surprised. He clears his throat to grab the four men’s attention before pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Himeko mentioned the same thing before I caught up with the rest of you. Himeko says she feels a sense of familiarity when she saw [Y/N], although I don’t think she feels the same as the rest of us,” Mr. Yang explains. 
Gepard’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline. “What do you mean by the rest of us? Do all of you feel the same way toward [Y/N]?” Gepard demands, chewing on his bottom lip.
Despite not getting a response from the four men in front of him, Gepard already knows the answer to his question. Every one of these men feels some kind of connection with you. Heck, even Himeko says she feels a sense of familiarity with you, according to Mr. Yang. A sense of familiarity is different from the tugging in their chests when they’re around you. The best way to describe it is a gravitational pull. It makes them want to be closer to you and be near you.
“Does anyone know they feel the same way?” Gepard asks, looking at you from the corner of his eyes. “I know they told Sampo they feel it as well, but what if they’re saying it to get Sampo off their back?” Gepard asks, propping one hand on his hip while stroking his chin.
The rest of the day went by in a blur to you. The last thing you remembered before losing consciousness was Himeko showing you where your temporary room is located on the Astral Express. Nanook communicated with you through your dreams twice, but this time, he didn’t make an appearance. You slept for a few hours, only to be woken up by someone knocking at the door.
You roll out of bed and stumble to the door, grabbing the doorknob and opening the door without a second thought. At first, you thought it was going to be March that was standing at the door, ready to show a photo book of her, Dan Heng, Mr. Yang, and Caelus trailblazing, but instead, it was Jing Yuan, Blade, and Luocha that’s standing at the door.
Just when you were feeling groggy, you’re now alert and surprised. You stare at the trio with wide eyes and peek over their shoulders. Why are they at the Astral Express? Shouldn’t they be at the Xianzhou Luofu? And as for Blade, you’re not entirely sure why he’s with Jing Yuan and Luocha at the Astral Express.
You give the three men a fake smile. “Jing Yuan, Luocha, and Blade! What a surprise! If you don’t mind me asking, what are you three doing here?” You ask, running your hands through your bedhead. 
Jing Yuan chuckles. “It’s good to see you too, [Y/N]. We came to check up on you to see if you were okay. Caelus informed us that you weren’t feeling well when you were on Jarlio-VI,” says Jing Yuan.
You stare at Jing Yuan like a fish out of water. “Oh! I’m fine, really! I didn’t think you would stop by to check up on me after hearing what happened,” you say, clearing your throat.
Luocha smiles and pats your head. “We were worried about your well-being! Of course, we would stop by to see if you’re okay! Are we not allowed to do that?” Luocha asks, batting his eyelashes at you.
You feel yourself becoming flustered under their gaze, and you look away, rubbing the back of your neck. Then you realize that Blade is also standing there, behind Luocha and Jing Yuan, staring at you menacingly. Well, he was just staring at you like a normal person, but the look was menacing to you. 
You point an accusing finger at Blade. “Why are you here? Didn’t you go somewhere with Kafka after our encounter at the Xianzhou Loufu?!” You demand, taking a step back.
Blade blinks at you. “What do you mean? Am I not allowed to check up on you?” Blade asks, raising an eyebrow at you.
You snort and lean against the door, glaring at the long, dark-haired man behind Luocha and Jing Yuan. “That’s rich coming from someone that cut my neck the other day!” You say, pointing at the bandaid on your neck.
Jing Yuan and Luocha slowly turn to look at Blade. Their demeanors shift suddenly, and the temperature in the area seems to drop. Blade frowns and ignores the glares Luocha, and Jing Yuan are giving him.
Blade sighs. “I didn’t mean to cut your neck, alright? I didn’t think the edge of the sword would be that sharp,” Blade mutters.
You grumble and shift on one foot, looking at the ground. “Yeah, well, I’m doing fine now. I appreciate you three checking up on me, really. Even though you all didn’t need to do that.” you say.
Jing Yuan chuckles. “Well, when it comes to you, we’re willing to drop everything we’re doing to make sure you’re safe,” says Jing Yuan, giving you a closed-eye smile.
“Now that we have checked up on you, I think we should leave you alone to rest now,” Luocha says, smiling at you.
You give Luocha a smile in return and bid the three men goodbye before closing the door. You walk to your bed and collapse on it, closing your eyes. When you open your eyes, you’re back in the void, standing before Nanook. Nanook lets you stand on his hand and lifts you to his eyes, caressing your cheek with his index finger.
“My beautiful, shining star. We will meet soon,” Nanook murmurs.
You place your hands over Nanook’s finger, leaning into his touch. “What do you mean by shining star? Blade and Kafka called me a fallen star. Is there a correlation between the two?”  you ask.
“That, I cannot tell you, my shining star. You will know soon enough,” replies Nanook.
The void around you fades away, and you wake up to see people surrounding you. You blink at them and sit up, but Dan Heng pushes you back down on the bed. You look at Dan Heng and the others with a questioning look. Your moment with Nanook was cut so suddenly. Did something happen?
You rub your eyes. “What happened? Why is everyone in my room?” You ask.
Himeko sighs in relief, smiling at you. “We’re just glad you’re okay, that’s all,” says Himeko
You stare at Himeko and the others quizzically. “Then, does that mean I can continue my sleep?” You ask.
March’s eyes widen, and she looks at the others with panic. “Uh, yes! But you’ve been sleeping so much today! Do you want to walk around the Astral Express with us? You know, for fresh air and maybe get something to eat after?” March asks. 
You shrug, rolling off the bed and stretching your arms in the air. “Yeah, sure, why not? I don’t think I had anything to eat today, so I might as well walk around the Astral Express and get something to eat after.”
March grins and grabs you by your wrist before pulling you out of your room with the others following behind. You’re not sure if you want to know what happened before you woke up, but everyone in the room looks… shaken up, if that’s the right way to describe it.
Note: Not gonna lie, I kind of like how this fic turned out. The starting "chapter" of the new series is completely different from how I started the Genshin Impact Isekai fic. I have way too many ideas for Honkai Star Rail, and I'm excited to post more for Honkai Star Rail along with the Genshin fics. I might make a more organized masterlist for all of my fics, but I'm not sure when I'll do that 🤔 To my new and/or returning readers, please keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!
Read more of my works on my Masterlist | 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 on 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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vivwritesfics · 4 months
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(Oh My God) They Were Roommates
Chapter One - I Hate You
Is me starting another series before my dissertation a really bad idea? Yes, yes it is (but i had the idea and I need to get it written down asap)
Lando Norris and Y/N L/N were teammates. Tension had been between from the minute they started driving together and, when it only got worse, McLaren CEO Zac Brown decides there's only one solution: Have them live together.
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"Get out of my apartment!"
In the doorway of a little two bedroom apartment in Woking was Y/N L/N. She had a bad on her back and at least three suitcases behind her. And in front of her was Lando Norris, her teammate, biggest rival and mortal enemy.
Lando stared at her, dumbfounded. "Your apartment?" He repeated, expression still shocked. "No, Zac said this one is for me."
"Then why did he give me a key for apartment 241?"
They held up the exact same set of keys on the exact same keyring. Lando let out a sigh through his nose as he pocketed his version of the key. "Somebody clearly has royally fucked up," he said and sat on the couch.
"I'm gonna call him," said Y/N as she put the key back into her pocket. She pulled her phone from the back pocket of her jeans and dialled the number of her boss.
Zac Brown had been hers and Lando's boss for the last year and few months. He'd been dealing with hers and Lando's shit from day one, ever sine they revealing the McLaren car for that year. They'd almost gotten onto a fight on the stage in front of everybody.
Zac picked up the phone in just a few rings. "How're you liking the new place?" He asked in way of hello.
"It's great, Zac. Except it comes with an annoying little prick," Y/N spat.
There was a second where Zac didn't say anything. He saw this coming, had tried to mitigate it as best he could by telling Lando he'd be getting a roommate. Of course, he didn't say who that roommate would be: that would have just been asking for trouble.
But, then again, all of this was asking for trouble. Zac had been waiting for a call from at least one of them since he got into the office (he'd hoped it would have been Lando; over the past year he'd proven himself to be easier to deal with than Y/N, who didn't back down. No matter what).
"Get yourself unpacked, I'll deal with you tomorrow," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Zac put the phone down. He didn't say goodbye to his drivers, unless it was on race days. With nowhere left to go, Y/N dragged her things into the apartment. "Where's the second bedroom?" She grumbled as she looked down at Lando.
Without looking away from the television, Lando pointed behind him. But that wasn't helpful, since there was the kitchen just behind them and then two doors. "Furthest one," he said and Y/N dragged her bags through the rest of the apartment, heading to the furthest away bedroom.
The bedroom was sizeable, with a double bed and wardrobe already inside. But, other than that, there wasn't a lot. Y/N unpacked nothing but bedding and clothes for the next day. There was no way she was staying here, not living with Lando Norris.
***
Carpooling made so much sense when going to the same place as somebody, unless you hated that person. Zac watched from his office as two cars pulled up outside of the McLaren Technology centre.
The drivers got out of the car almost in sync. They both wore sunglasses as they strode towards the doors, Y/N's glare not visible behind her sunglasses as she followed Lando inside.
Things were clearly tense between them as they walked through the office. The drivers said nothing to each other, but their expressions said enough.
Where Lando took an elevator up to Zac's office, Y/N took the stairs. She ran up them, the two of them arriving at the same time (one of them out of breath and the other smirking at her).
She took the lead as they strode into the office. "Zac," Y/N began, but the CEO held his hand.
He wasn't like other bosses, he was a cool boss. But he was still there boss and, when he held up his hand, the two knew to shut up. "Sit down," he said, leaning back in his own chair.
Y/N and Lando sat in the seats on the other side of the desk. Her leg bounced as she waited for Zac to speak and Lando had his hands shoved into his pockets. Neither of them could ever agree on anything, except the fact that they're not leaving the room until they're not living together.
Zac laced his hands together and leaned forward, elbows on the desk. "You're both brilliant drivers," he began, "but you're both liabilities. You've both cost us millions because you keep trying to kill each other on the track. And your behaviour towards each other off track is bringing bad press to all of us at McLaren," he finished.
"We don't want to lose either of you as drivers, so we've come up with the brilliant plan to force you to get along."
Y/N's eyebrows were furrowed as she stared at her boss. "And if we refuse?" She asked him, placing one leg on top of the other.
"Then, we'll have to let one of both of you go. But the choice is yours."
But the choice wasn't really theirs. No matter what, they couldn't lose their seats, so they were just going to have to stick it out, suffer through it. Fuck.
The tension between the two wasn't just random. It had been brewing since their karting days. Even then they ran each other off the tracks and fought between races. Of course, back then it wasn't as big a deal.
There were way too many videos of when they were kids and they'd pushed each other off the track, gotten out of their karts and gotten into a physical fight. If they weren't so clearly talented, it would have affected their careers.
For the first few months of their Formula One careers in McLaren, the team thought they had made a mistake. If they weren't consistently in the points, Zac would have gotten rid of the both of them. But, truth be told, they were too good to let go.
So, he dangled this threat in front of them. Learn to get along or one of you is sacked. He'd thought about this hard, realised that this was the perfect threat. Y/N and Lando were so competitive that the thought of one of them losing their seat while the other thrived would have torn them apart.
"Fine," said Y/N. She stood up so quickly that the chair she was sat on, fell backwards. She quickly picked it up and rushed out of the office.
Lando said a goodbye to Zac and walked out of the office, rushing after her. He ran into the elevator just before the doors slid shut and stood beside her. They didn't look at each other, stared straight at the doors as the elevator took them down. "Sup, new roommate," he said with a smirk.
The elevator stopped moving and the doors slid open. "I hate you," Y/N said and walked out of the McLaren technology centre.
She drove her way back to the apartment in Woking in complete silence. Her grip on the steering wheel was so tight that it left imprints on her skin, on her palms and her finger tip.
How she didn't get pulled over for speeding, she'd never know. But the speed limit was the least of her concern as she made her way back to what was her new home.
But it would never be her home, not while Lando was living there.
***
Reluctantly, she unpacked her things. Hung her clothes up in her wardrobe and placed her underwear in the drawers. Y/N placed pictures of her family, pictures of her old F2 car, of her pets, of her car from the previous year up around her room. She pulled her lamp from her back and placed it on the bedside table, along with her phone, its charger, and her toiletries.
Lando had arrived home just minutes after her, but she'd already locked herself in her room. The only way they'd be able to get through this was by avoiding each other.
When her things were unpacked, Y/N sat on the bed and grabbed a book. A biography, all about the life of Enzo Ferrari. The one thing her room was missing was her sim racing rig, something her father was meant to bring up that day, but Y/N had told him to wait until she had somewhere new to live (which, we all know didn't happen. She was stuck in this apartment with Lando, whether she liked it or not).
Pressing her ear to the door, Y/N listened as Lando walked around. She waited until he walked past her room and into his own, shutting the door behind him. Only then did she walk out of her room to get herself something to eat and drink.
She could do this. All she had to do was avoid him.
Easy.
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