#Along with everyone else who did as well.
Note
congrats on 5k queen! you’re writing is so brilliant beyond belief and you deserve all the love and support this site has to offer. can i request lando+angsty smut (the best combo)…prompts along the lines of “i don’t think im ever going to love anyone the way i love you”//“i don’t think i want to love anyone else”
how did it end?
ln x famous fem!reader
in which it ends, until…
i love this fic with my whole heart. thank u sm for this request, anon, and for being so absolutely for gorgeous and kind <3 kicking off the 5k celebration with a big, sad, sexy bang! lemme know what you think, hugs n kisses
songs to set the mood: how did it end? by taylor swift
warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, angst angst angst, fluff, happy ending! exes to lovers, just. a lot going on. sad!lando, sad!everyone, so many feels, r is a big deal model, alcohol consumption, mentions of smoking
4.1k words
one gasp, and then…
“how did it end?” the woman strokes your arm, soothing, tentative.
you don’t know her all that well, she’s signed to the same agency as you, you see her in the halls sometimes and sit next to her in makeup chairs.
you stare blankly at her, registering. news travels fast apparently.
you smile, small, fake, tilting your head to the side. you mumble something about different schedules, timezones, right person, wrong time. she watches your face intently, with sympathy. you want to throttle her. she’s being kind and you despise her for it right now.
“i won’t tell anyone.” she affirms, her fingers still smoothing over the skin of your arm.
yes you will, you think. all of her friends, the rest of the building will know exactly what you’ve told her by the time you get to your meeting. you don’t begrudge her, though, that’s the nature of the industry.
“well, it was good to see you.” you nod, even go in for a quick hug, and then you speed away, beelining for the elevator. the ride is short, your managers office somewhere on the third floor and you shuffle down the corridor, ready to be informed of what your life will look like for the next three months.
fittings, shoots, paris trip.
mhm.
swimwear season, charlotte tilbury, meeting with the vogue journalist.
cool.
week off, few days in london, monaco grand prix.
no.
“what? no.” you splutter. out of habit, you reach for a necklace, frown when you realise it’s no longer there.
“what do you mean, no?” she narrows her eyes at you.
“i can’t go to the race. no.”
“girl, i love you, but did i ask?”
“you know i can’t-“
“you won’t have to see him.” she reasons.
“but what if i do? he’s obviously gonna be there, and the events before and after- no. no.”
“lando norris is not gonna be the end of you.”
you stifle a laugh, one that sounds more like a strangled cry.
what if he already was?
-
look who we ran into at the shops,
walking in circles like he was lost
lando stares at the shampoo.
specifically, the one you use. used. he can’t be too sure anymore, he supposes.
he’d popped out for a loaf of bread, about an hour ago. he didn’t want to acknowledge how long he’d been staring at the women’s toiletries section.
you seemed to live on, everywhere. lando could see you in his apartment, the passenger seat of his car, the back of the garage. even the fucking supermarket wasn’t safe. you were very much alive, moving on with life, and yet you haunted him like he’d killed you himself.
perhaps he had, in a way.
the basket grazes the outside of his leg.
that’s the shower gel he’d buy for you, the one you only used when you stayed with him in monaco.
there’s the tampons you asked him to buy, crying back at home on your- his bed.
oh, and there’s the shampoo that you made him buy, the one that you told him made his curls feel extra fluffy when he was between your legs-
“lando?” a voice calls, drawing lando out of the mist.
“oh, alex. hey.” lando croaks. he hasn’t noticed the lump in his throat until now. he clears his throat, running a hand through his hair.
“what you doing, mate?” alex asks, eyebrows furrowed. he scans lando’s face, puffy eyes, watery.
“shopping.”
“for women’s shampoo?”
“no, no, just… looking.” lando stutters.
“when was the last time you slept?” alex’s voice is laced with concern, apprehensive. he doesn’t know what to say to his heartbroken friend.
lando smiles weakly.
“i’ve been sleeping.”
alex sighs.
“okay, when was the last time you slept properly, then?”
lando’s shoulders visibly sag.
“about a month ago.”
-
we hereby conduct this post-mortem
“we can’t do this anymore.”
the words fall from your lips in a whisper, but they reach him like you’ve screamed them at him. he sits opposite you, in the arm chair, so far away, only a metre or so.
“i know.” lando breathes shakily.
“i don’t want this but…”
“yeah.”
it’s been such a good year. you’re in love. it’s not enough. there’s too much distance, too many outsider opinions, too much longing for someone who’s on the other side of the world.
he’ll be in london. you’ll be in brazil.
he’ll be in australia. you’ll be in amsterdam.
it’s too much.
“i love you, though.” you remind him meekly.
“don’t know how to not love you.” he sniffles.
your heart shatters, the pieces flying over the room, spilling across the floor. they mix with the splinters of his, painting the room red. all you feel is blue.
you cry in his arms when he takes you to bed, his own tears spilling over your collar bone when he buries his head in your neck, licks over the marks he’s left there. to remember me by, he’d muttered dryly.
when you’re both finished, he lays there for a moment, still on top of you. damp with sweat and tears, the taste of one another still lingering on your tongues.
“how is it possible that i miss you already?” he pants, lips grazing just below your ear.
“i get it, lan. i’ve been missing you for a while.”
you’re gone when he wakes up.
and so, a touch that was my birthright became foreign
-
come one, come all
it’s happening again
the empathetic hunger descends
there are about six cameras pointed at you when he asks the dreaded question.
you’re in new york, sat on a talk show hosts sofa, lit by stage lights and his inquisitive eyes. two hundred people sit in the audience, on the edge of their seats waiting for you to spill your secrets.
“so, what happened there, with lando?”
you plaster on the fakest smile to date, crossing your legs anxiously.
“we’re both just so busy, you know? he’s doing amazing things in f1 and i’m all over the place with work.”
“we love both of you over here, it was sad to hear.” he sympathises, adjusting his tie and leaning back in his chair. his fingers drum over the wood of his desk, waiting for more.
vultures. everyone is a vulture.
“and we still have a lot of love for each other. he’s a wonderful person.”
there are tears in your eyes and bile rising rapidly in your throat when you shake hands with the crew, the host, and retreat to your dressing room. you stumble into the en-suite and throw up. then, you fall onto the sofa and cry. you fix your makeup at godspeed and reply to the text from your team, inviting you to drinks at some rooftop bar, promising to meet them there. you punctuate the text with one too many exclamation marks, feigning excitement.
“we still have a lot of love for each other.”
translation: i can’t understand: how did it end?
-
lando watches your interview. of course he does. he watches everything that you do, watches the way you set the world on fire.
he can’t help himself where you’re concerned, like an addict craving the next hit. you look so pretty on tv, glowing. you look fine.
god, why do you look fine?
he hates himself for hating just how fine you look. he is not fine.
“he’s a wonderful person.”
your words ring in his ears. they anger him, because if he’s oh-so-wonderful, why aren’t you here? why isn’t he there with you, waiting backstage? why can’t you just hate him? why can’t he just hate you? maybe you will, if he shows you just how not wonderful he can be.
he gets drunk that night. forces max to hit the clubs with him. sticks his tongue down a pliant woman’s throat. doesn’t ask her name. let’s her invite him back to her place. it has to be her place, he can’t fuck someone else in your bed, the one you used to share. he leaves minutes after he’s pulled out. he’s sure she’s lovely, too good for him and his bitter fucking heart. he feels utterly disgusting.
lando goes home, scrubs his skin red, and then does it again. he doesn’t go to sleep, watches from his balcony as the sun begins to rise over the sea. he hikes to the highest point he can reach in monaco, where it’s quiet and there’s no one to judge him, or worse, sympathise with him.
he stands at the edge of the cliff. screams once, twice. he sits on a rock, and lets himself cry.
the deflation of our dreaming
leaving me bereft and reeling
my beloved ghost and me
sitting in a tree
d-y-i-n-g
-
your stylist is plying you with options.
you can wear the denim with the cream OR you could do the red and white? or we can go full glam! or! or! or! we could-
you drown her out. you don’t give a fuck. not a single one.
what you wear to the monaco grand prix is quite literally the least of the your problems. your biggest problem, of course, is that you have to go to the fucking thing.
visibility is important, get people talking! the words of your manager ring in your ears until you have a dull migraine brewing behind your ears.
you leave the fitting not entirely sure what you’re wearing, but your stylist will be sending the clothes over so you can pack.
when you land in all too familiar nice, there are cameras. when you get to the hotel in monaco, you and lando are already trending on twitter. well, at least he knows you’re coming. when you’re getting your makeup done before your first event, you get a text.
i’ll try and keep my distance.
try.
try is such an interesting word. the fact that he has to try to stay away makes your belly flutter with embarrassing, self loathing butterflies. don’t try too hard, you want to respond. you don’t.
should’ve told you i’d be here you shoot back.
you think i didn’t already know?
of course he knew. he’d probably asked god knows how many brands to invite you. you try and feign an illness but your team drag you kicking and screaming to the event.
-
there are no two ways about it: you’re drunk, on a tuesday night, somewhere in the principality. a few cocktails with a jewellery brand turned into a night on the town, bar hopping with people you hardly knew and barely recognised.
you’re shaking your ass in jimmy’z, pretending to have fun when you see him.
lando stands at the bar, watching you, jaw tensed, eyes solemn. you exit the club faster that his car down a back straight, stumbling into the smoking area. you bum a cigarette from a guy who tries really hard to convince you that he’s the son of a british lord, and sink into the corner, ignoring the people recording you.
depressed model shame smokes outside monaco club because she is fucking pathetic, the headlines will read.
“thought you quit that shit.” his voice washes over your body like you’ve been set on fire, smooth tone, ambiguous accent making you ache.
“i did but then i got forced to come to monaco, so.” you shrug.
“forced?”
“‘m here for work.” you sigh.
“i guess i am too.” he mumbles. you raise an eyebrow.
“you live here, lan.” you tease. lan rolls off of your tongue too sweetly.
“doesn’t feel like it anymore.”
how can it, without you? he wants to scream at you. he can’t, you don’t deserve it.
“how are you?”
you want to touch him.
“shit.”
he needs a taste.
“yeah.”
you put your cigarette out. it tastes like shit, half smoked.
you stand there, stare at each other.
take me home, you want to beg.
come home, he clenches his fists, trying not to grab you and remind you how you’ll always be his, right here, up against the side of the club.
“good luck, if i don’t see you.” you whisper. you linger, praying that he’ll beg you to stay so that you can crumble into his arms, without having to make the first move.
lando ponders his options. his head and his heart wage a war.
logic wins, unfortunately.
“thank you.”
you take that as your queue to get the fuck out of there, and disappear into the night.
-
it’s raining on sunday. the dreary weather seems to perfectly sum up what has been the worst week of your life.
you’ve seen your ex boyfriend more times than you can count, ended up with about four hangovers as a result, and with a pounding head, you have to sit in the paddock club and wait for the sound of engines to split your head in half. it was your own doing, so you’d suck it up, recognising that you were a disgustingly privileged bitch, and there are people who would sell their kidneys to do what you’re complaining about.
you never complain, not usually. but your heart hurts and your body hearts and your mind hurts and it’s just not fair. lando is gorgeous, and you miss him so badly, and your shoes are digging in. who the fuck thinks it’s a good idea to wear heels to an f1 race?
you see him before the race, mouth good luck from afar. he winks. it’s something you used to do before every race. old habits die screaming.
the rain falls harder, the track slick. you say a prayer and take your seat.
“norris has this in the bag, he’s bloody good in the wet.” you hear some old guy say behind you. you are cursed with the knowledge of just how good in the wet he is, and you end up flushed.
he wins. his second one in three races. you pray that no one notices the way you weep. everyone notices.
you make a mistake and rush for the podium, your pass giving you access. he graces the top step and you sob, grinning like a fool, soaked through with rain. the anthem plays, the champagne pops. he finds your eyes in the crowd. your hair falls, stringy and curled, mascara smudged. you are the most breathtaking sight. he stands still, washed with an onslaught of champagne, watching you like he’s scared to take his eyes off of you. his boyish grin and hopeful eyes render you weak - you’re there for him, after all - and he can’t help but bask in that little fact.
dangerous territory. you break, and disappear.
-
say it once again with feeling…
the photographers barely get a second to snap a picture of the top three, because lando is gone. he takes the stairs two at a time, descending from the podium and throwing his pirelli cap and a shaky apology at his pr rep. the adrenaline spike makes his blood rush; he needs to find you and stop you and tell you that he will never be able to stop loving you.
the exit is the natural assumption, and he nearly slips a thousand times as he sprints through the paddock. the ground is wet, but he figures that if his car made it, so can he. the gates are in sight, and so are you, your clothes sticking to your shivering frame.
he calls your name, thunderously travelling towards you, his voice hitting your ears like a sonic boom. you freeze, turn slowly until your facing him. the rain splashes around you, not letting up.
you’re within his reach, and he pulls you in, hugging you tight. you melt into him, clinging like he’s a life force. he inhales you, your scent that he’s missed so horrifically. you crumble, and so does he, pieced back together as one.
“i can’t do this, i can’t.” he kisses the words into the cold skin of your neck.
“no, neither can i.” you choke wetly with emotion.
“miss you too much. it’s too hard, it’s stupid, it’s-“
“wrong. it’s wrong. ‘m sorry.” your breath fans his face, breathing life into him, life that he’d lost four months ago.
he grabs your shoulders, lowering so that his eyes are level with yours. his curls fall over his eyes, sodden from the rain.
“i don’t think, no, i know: i’m never gonna love anyone the way i love you.” lando speaks slow, convincing. your chest is tight.
“i don’t want to love anyone else.” you croak, the lump in your throat making it hard to breathe.
“come back to me.” he mutters, pleading.
“don’t think i ever left.” you breathe, hushed.
your lips slot over his easily, it’s like breathing. the kiss is messy, helpless, and he engulfs you whole, his body wrapping around yours like a blanket. you latch onto his race-suit, drawing him in, and then you both seem to remember where you are.
lando norris caught kissing ex like horny teenager in monaco paddock!
you pull away with breathless chuckle. the air is fresh, and you feel alive. he steals another peck.
“wait for me at home. i’ll be quick.” his hand finds you ass, just for a second and you scold him playfully.
home.
yeah, home.
“don’t make me wait.” you grin.
his brain short circuits.
“do you still have your key?” he splutters, refocusing.
you scoff. “never took it off the chain.”
-
you pace the apartment, taking in the space. it hasn’t changed, but it’s messier, a visual representation of lando since you left. the pit of your belly swirls with anxiety, anticipation. he’ll be back soon, and he’ll kiss you, make love to you, remind you that you’re home and that it’d be stupid to leave again.
you’re still damp from the rain, shedding layers until you’re left in your vest and jeans, ridiculous heels kicked off by the door, your jacket airing over the back of a chair.
he hasn’t taken down the pictures of you together. he hasn’t moved your ugly collection of magnets from the fridge. he hasn’t changed the blinds that you chose, but he didn’t really like. your candles sit on the bookshelf half burned, the teddy he’d won you at a fair sits neatly on the sofa. the L pendant and it’s chain is strewn over the coffee table, right where you left it the morning after it ended. your breathing is heavy.
the front door opens behind you.
you don’t move, your eyes still fixed on the silver chain, overwhelmed by how empty your neck feels all of the sudden. he comes up behind you, his head resting on your shoulder, arms finding home around your waist. you often used to find yourselves in this exact position; while you brushed your teeth, made coffee. the room is deathly silent, breathing and the distant buzz of post race festivities the only thing you can hear. lando follows your gaze.
“kept it. knew that one day, you’d come back for it.”
“i came back for you.”
“and that necklace will stay with you when i can’t be there.”
you nod. he kisses your neck.
“missed you so bad.” you gasp. he licks your skin, bites down softly.
you spin in his arms, his hands pawing at your hips and everything blurs when he kisses you.
-
shaky fingers work over zippers, buttons, clasps, and then you’re both bare. you sink into the mattress that you missed so much, his body moulded with yours when you both tumble into the sheets. this is messy and frantic, utterly lovestruck. the lightning strike of his touch has you keening, sweating beneath him already.
“missed you. missed this.”
“do something, lan.” you cry, quiet against his shoulder.
“missed my perfect girl.” he grunts, lips working your chest while his fingers leave a trail of goosebumps over your inner thigh.
“please.” you sigh when his fingers dip between your folds, sliding over your wet flesh. his lip catches between his teeth, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of you.
he thumbs at your clit, stroking over you in slow, firm swipes, and then he’s sinking a digit into you, slow and steady. your toes curl, tears pricking your eyes at the intrusion, but you don’t have much of a chance to adjust, a second finger joining the first. he fucks you full, the stretch of just two fingers making you whine, one hand threading into the sheets while the other slams over your mouth. you want to hide, the pleasure rendering you a mess across the pale grey linen.
“no, let me look at you.” lando rasps, spare hand tugging at your wrist. you whine, writhing when he curls his fingers. “why are you hiding?”
you can’t hold back the choked cry that sounds from the back of your throat, his palm bumping your clit as he grinds his fingers deep.
“gone shy on me, baby? where’s my good girl gone?” lando coos, moving so that he’s leaning over you. the angle change sends your legs flying, kicking out at the sweet torture. “‘s because you haven’t been fucked right in so long, hm? can’t remember how to behave?” he’s smirking down at you, scanning the changing lines of your face.
“need it, need-“ you stutter, the words dying on your tongue.
“words, pretty girl, words.” lando encourages, false sympathy dripping from his tongue.
“need to cum, want you to make me…” you trail off.
“was that so hard?” he tuts, and everything speeds up.
the sound of him working you so sweetly makes you shake, your thighs clenching tight around his hand. the wet squelch hits your ears and you blush, cheeks coloured deep with embarrassment, awe, desperation.
your mouth drops open, screaming silently when it hits, your thighs slick. you drip down his wrist, his hand covered in your release.
“there’s my girl.” lando sighs, diving down to kiss you hard.
you can feel the damp press of his fingers as they dig into your thighs and you squirm beneath him, finding your way into his mouth.
“fuck me.” you slur, teeth knocking with his. he swallows you whole, groaning into your mouth.
“not so shy now, hm? been dreaming of hearing you beg for it.” lando shudders, shifting between your legs.
you can feel the press of him, thick against your cunt and you wiggle your hips, pushing to meet him halfway. the stretch burns deliciously, and you grab at his shoulders, dragging him in.
“fuck, baby.” he breathes, sinking into you slowly. “feel like heaven.” disbelief coats his voice, like he can’t reconcile that this is real; you’re back here, his, in the bed you were always supposed to share.
“it’s so good. feel so good for me, lan.” you whisper, lacing your fingers through his hair.
“love you so much.” he kisses you like he means it, rocking into you with purpose.
“can’t believe i lived without this.”
“can’t believe you’re all mine.”
the release builds, every thrust reminding you of what you could have lost for good. there was no lack of love, in fact you were starting to wonder if you had loved each other too much before.
“never losing you again. can’t live without you. my beautiful girl.”
your tummy grows tight, and he finds your clit when he feels you clamp down on him. he pulls you through the pleasure, guides you to your orgasm and you blindly follow him. you’d follow him anywhere, you decide.
you tell him you love him when you let go, spilling all around him, warm. he’s panting, kisses your forehead gently. he rolls off of you, and you feel the slow drip instantly, but you curl into his side and he wraps around you.
home.
“promise me something.” he whispers. you feel the way he shakily inhales.
“hm?”
“don’t leave again. you belong here, too. with me.”
your eyes are watery.
“i’m staying. ‘m yours.”
“about that…”
lando springs from the bed, naked, disappearing from the room. you watch, confused, cold all of the sudden.
you can hear his footsteps padding through the hallway, and then he’s back, his figure in the hallway. he runs, jumps, lands gracelessly next to you. endeared, you laugh softly.
“sit up.”
you do, leaning up to sit next to him. his fingers skim your shoulder, pushing your hair out of the way. cool metal dances over your skin.
“back where it belongs.” lando smiles at you, eyes wide and stunning.
you toy with the L. something heals in your chest, right around where your heart is.
“the sweetest boy.” you shake your head in disbelief, grin up at him like a fool.
“bath?”
“you know me so well, noz.”
come one, come all
it’s happening again
-
oh, my heart. there is something deeply wrong with me
-
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Yan!Prodigy x Rival you
Rated 18 + — mature short content !
Includes: enemies to lovers?— not really he falls in love pretty quick, first time kissing, stalking, admitting his feelings, he gets excited by the tiniest sight of skin, he’s delusional, gender neutral reader.
*I played violin for a couple of years, but my knowledge is a bit dusty and it’s been awhile 😬 And sorry for not posting! I’ve been busy with studying for the SAT! He is referred to as “your enemy” and this is purely fictional writing!*
Synopsis: He’s been on the top of his game for years. He’s known as the most talented violinist, and his ability to play has brought people to tears. All until you came along and threatened his legacy.
He was upset and furious that a nobody like you could win the spot of the first chair. You were now the center of attention, and not him. He wanted to break you down.
But… why did he find himself yearning for you?
He’s been practicing for years. He spent his whole life dedicating to the art of music. His fingers have been numb before, his wrist hurt, and he’s been staring at music sheets for so long— that everything looked like notes to him.
He’s been the first chair. He climbed his way to the top, he earned his reputation, and everyone admires him.
So, a little and measly talent like you shouldn’t have been in his spot. He had to audition for that seat—just like everyone else— but he knew that the directors loved him the moment he stepped on the stage.
He created masterpiece after masterpiece, and he’s a well sought out man.
He heard murmurs and whispers as he sat down behind you. He could feel everyone look at you with fascination, and admiration. He scowled and his grip on the neck of the violin was tight. He imagined ripping you out of the chair, or shoving his bow down your throat.
He had a steely gaze as you turned around to look at the person who had been glaring daggers at you. You smile at him, feeling a bit bad that you’re a newbie who took his usual position.
Why was his heart beating?
“Dont look at me.” The man scowled at you. His face slowly turning pink, and he looked away as you turned to face him again.
For the first time ever, he was distracted. As the show began he could hear his mistakes. He felt his hand shake, and he accidentally pressed down too hard on the string- causing an eerie squeaking noise. He looked up to see what you were doing and you are confident, each note of yours is perfect, and you were clearly the better choice. His eyes slowly widened as he became hypnotized by the way you moved, and the way your hand was so nimble.
“…fuck.” He was falling in love. That has never happened to him before. His body is filled with warmth, his heart fluttered, and he felt like he could float on the wave of happiness. For the first time ever— he felt alive.
The person next to him gently kicked at his chair, and he snapped out of it. He looked back at the sheet, and he realized he lost his place. His eyes and ears frantically tried to figure out where they were.
The show was a nightmare. He got chewed out for the very first time, and he hung his head low. He made multiple mistakes, made a mockery of the whole orchestra, and organization. He apologized to everyone, and he seethed at how people thought he was slipping.
You were the only one to approach him. Your enemy threw his jacket on, ready to leave, but he paused when he saw you.
“Hey… I’m sorry-“
He raised a hand to stop you. “It’s not your fault.” He said curtly, and he grabbed his instrument case. He brushed past you, and quickly made it out of the building. He had to stop and take a breather- leaning on the wall as he felt red cheeks. He always felt a rush of adrenaline and excitement when you came close to him.
That’s when the stalking began. I mean it was a total accident, and he didn’t mean to find your apartment… he just happened to know it was yours, because of the way the melodic sound came from the window. He was across the street, and he was able to see you sway, and play with such emotion. He stood there for what felt like years, and he started to film you.
He would rewatch them at night in his bed. A huge smile on his face as he was able to relive that moment. Before he knew it… he kissed the screen.
He came to practice early in the morning. Your enemy had to keep up a cool facade, and he ignored your little “hello” to him. He sat in his chair, feeling a bit bitter, but he knew it was well deserved. You’re a good violin player, and he was coming to terms with it. He sighed as he brought his instrument out of the case, he took out his tuner, and he started to tune his instrument. He fiddled with the fine tuners, and eventually adjusting the pegs when that didn’t work.
The whole entire time… he glanced at you. His heart swelled up as he saw you take off your jacket, and he gulped as he saw your shoulders.
Ohhh god.
He slightly groaned as his pants felt tighter.
He heard the peg creak, his fingers mindlessly kept turning and turning. He gasped as the string he was trying to tune snapped, he felt it hit his cheek, and out of surprise he dropped his violin.
He was so embarrassed as you helped him get an ice pack. You two were in the tiny hallway, an ice pack in your hand. Instead of handing it to him, you placed it on his cheek for him. You made him feel better, told a little joke about what happened and he let out a chuckle.
He saw you smile and step closer to him. Was this seriously happening? He immediately kissed you back as you pressed against him, one arm around your waist and the other on the back of your head. You tasted wonderful.
He started to moan out your name, your hand now down his pants, and he arched his back. His hands then gripped at the brick wall, his hips jerked with the movement, and he felt his orgasm coming pretty close.
He felt you pull down his pants and boxers, and you got down onto your knees, and your tongue stuck out to lick his length.
“God, I love you—“ He pants, his stomach tightening as his arousal grew.
“Hello?”
Hello?
His eyes came back to focus on your hand waving in his face. He gulped as he took a step back. You were confused as to what happened, you tried to speak to him, but it looked like he was lost in his thoughts. His face was flushed and he was murmuring incoherent things.
The man quickly snatched the ice pack and he panicked— his dick twitching— and he ran away from you.
Allure: It’s a pretty short fic, unedited, and i wrote this on my break 😭 yandere x zombie part three should be coming soon.
#Allurilove yandere writing#tw stalking#tw yandere#yandere prodigy x rival you#violin prodigy#male yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x y/n#yandere x you#yandere x darling#yandere oc#yandere drabble#yandere imagines#obsessive love#yandere stalking#enemies to lovers#delulu#delusional
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reporting live, paige bueckers
—synopsis. you run into paige again at the club after uconn wins the title game
notes ౨ৎ: sorry it took a month for this, i completely forgot about it!
previous ౨ৎ
it had been three days since you went to the iowa vs uconn game. today was the title game against south carolina but unfortunately you weren't assigned to report on this game.
plus, today was your birthday and you were celebrating with some friends. earlier you had gone out for breakfast and tonight you were going out.
you had the game on your tv while you and your friends were at your apartment getting ready to go out for the night. "paige is so tuff" you watched the tv as you moisturized your legs. "that should be caitlin playing i fear" devon sighed. "mad as hell" you joked.
soon the game was over, and uconn came out on top as the winners. you were so glad for them.
there were shot glasses on your coffee table with remnants of tequila and pink whitney in them. you'd been pregaming with your friends for tonight.
you got dressed into a black sleeveless corset top with a matching mini skirt and brown stiletto boots. you had to admit, the outfit left little to the imagination.
soon you and devon were ready while you waited on your friends, dani, and tristin to finish getting ready.
"can you guys hurry up?" devon scolded them. "relax we're almost ready" tristin rolled his eyes. "okay well i've got connections with the bouncer, and we need to not be late" she pointed a stern finger at him as she threw on her jacket.
after a few minutes of playful bickering, you all were ready to go.
devon got you guys into some exclusive club downtown somehow, she didn't explain the details, but you were excited.
it wasn't a long drive before you made it to the club and your spirits were high. after blasting music and taking cute, slutty pictures in the car with your friends you were excited for the rest of the night.
devon led the way to the club entrance, whispering something to the bouncer who nod his head and let you all in.
"so how exactly did you get us in here?" you asked with a smirk on your face. "you remember dylan?" she had a sly grin on her face. dylan was an old fling of hers, who just so happen to be a manager for clubs and motels. "no!" you gasped and she just nod her head.
you all followed her to sit at a booth in the corner.
after a few minutes you ordered some loaded fries and sliders for the table, along with a bottle of tequila and shot glasses.
the alcohol was definitely pumping through your system at this point, and dani dragged you all to dance. there was some remix playing in the background while you grind your ass on dani and tristin.
"can we get another drink?!" devon leaned over to ask you. "yea sure!" you followed her through the crowd of people over to the bar.
"can i have a long island please?" devon asked the bartender. "and a vodka martini for me please!” you added.
you sat down while you waited for your drinks when devon looked past you at the door.
“oh my god there’s no way. uconn just walked in.” she said. “what, are you sure that’s them?” you followed her gaze. “are you that drunk you can’t see?” she asked you to which you just laughed.
you subconsciously looked around for the uconn player you were most concerned with, paige.
she came in behind everyone else with nika and kk. she wore a short black crop top that had her toned body on display, with baggy camouflage jeans that sit on top of a pair of jordans.
she looked so good, her hair was down with four braids in. “damn she looks good, you should go talk to her” devon smirked. you snapped your head at her “are you insane? why would i do that?”
the bartender handed you both your drinks and you thanked him. “i’m just saying, you should’ve seen the way she was looking at you when you interviewed her at the last game. eye contact was heavy, she was definitely checking you out”
“that’s called media training, you’re supposed to keep eye contact” you told her. the both of you looked over to find her again.
except this time, she was looking at you. there was a smirk on her face as she eyed you down, squinting to see you better. even from across the bar, you could feel the tension.
“oh she wants you. that was definitely checking you out” devon scoffed. you hid the smile on your face “i wonder if she even remembers me though?” you sipped on your drink. “who would forget you and from that look she definitely does”
“you don’t even know if she likes women” you reasoned.
you slowly turned to look at paige again who was now sitting at a booth with a few of her teammates, you still had a good view of her from the bar though.
she looked over at you again and you quickly turned around. “i feel like a tween with a crush right now” you giggled.
“i’m gonna go pee” you told devon. “be careful okay?” she told you and you nod your head.
you walked by paige’s booth to find the bathroom. you could feel her look at you.
when you came out of the stall to wash your hands, you dart your eyes to paige who was standing in the mirror taking a picture.
“oh hey, sorry” she moved out of your way. “no you’re good” you smiled. “i know you don’t i, you’re the pretty woman who interviewed me last week” she crossed her arms, emphasizing her biceps.
“oh yeah haha i am” you dried your hands. “why didn’t you say hi?” “was i supposed to?” you quirked your eyebrow. she hummed “did you see the game today? you weren’t there interviewing” she opened the door for you as the two of you left the bathroom.
“yeah…i took the day off cause it’s my birthday” you told her. “ohhh happy birthday” she smirked, eyes trailing over your outfit. “thank you so much” “how old are you now?”
“twenty two” she nod her head and put her hand in a shape to mimic a microphone. “well mrs..” she trailed off realizing she doesn’t know your name. you chuckled and told her.
“well mrs y/n, how do you feel being twenty two” she put an exaggerated reporter voice on. “well paige, it’s feeling pretty good. the club is bumping, the ladies look good, the alcohol is flowing” you responded in your own reporter voice, making her laugh.
“you look really nice by the way” she took the opportunity to eye fuck you again. “why thank you” you posed with your hands on the back of your hips as you did a small twirl.
“you look really good too” you took your own chance to check her out as well, not missing the smirk on her face when you did so.
“so congrats on the game, i saw you guys won”
“yeah, it’s so crazy to think i’ve come this far” she shook her head. “well that’s amazing! you guys came to celebrate?” you asked her and she nod her head. “oh, should i be letting you go back to your teammates then?..” you turned to find their table.
“nah they won’t mind, i’d rather talk to you anyways” she moved a step closer, and you tilt your head to look at her. these shoes only made you about 5’9 compared to her regular 6’0 ft frame. the dim lighting in the building cast a warm glow on her face.
“you wanna get a drink?” she nod her head towards the bar. you were a little drunk but you definitely weren’t turning down that offer “sure”
she held on to the small of your back as the two of you made your way through the crowd of people. you sat on two vacant stools and paige called the bartender over. she told him she wanted a sex on the beach before you told her you just wanted a light daiquiri.
the two of you got to talking about whatever until the conversation got a little personal. you had your leg crossed over your lap, crossing past her leg and you swore you felt her drag your stool closer.
“wait so, you do like women?” you asked her. “sorry, you don’t have to answer that” you stopped yourself. “nah it’s cool, i don’t put a label on it i just like who i like”
you couldn’t help but feel a sort of tension when she said that. as the words left her mouth her stare intensified and she looked down at your lips before back up at your eyes.
“oh okay that makes sense i guess” you nod your head. “do you…like women?” she asked you. “i do” you pursed your lips into a smirk as you continued “why?”
“do you happen to like women who are blonde and play basketball?” she smirked. you chuckled “yeah i think i do actually” you let your eyes flicker down to her lips.
she quickly handed her credit card to the bartender and grabbed your hand leading you to the exit, pressing you up against a wall outside.
“can i kiss you?” she asked you. you answered that by pressing your lips on hers and throwing your arms around her neck.
though the kiss was sloppy at first, you both fell into a rhythm as her hands held onto your waist.
paige felt a little bold and slid her hand up further, cupping the underside of your boob. you grinned “not worried someone’s gonna see us?” you broke the kiss. she shook her head no “nah it’s fine” she kissed you again.
“well, i actually have a rule. i don’t hookup with people i barely know at the club”
she looked a little defeated at that. “wanna go back to my place?” you smirked and she nod her head, grabbing your hand to lead you to her car.
#nia writes ࿐#paige bueckers#paige bueckers x reader#paige buckets#nika muhl#kk arnold#black reader#uconn wbb#uconn huskies#paige bueckers fanfiction#paige bueckers fanfic#uconn fanfic#two shot
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locked in an open room, stuck with a closed conversation | j.fleming x reader
prompt: you and jessie are lost in the woods on a school trip. stressed and under pressure, feelings come out.
author notes: this is inspired from a scene in one of my favorite shows, big girls don't cry. it's a great show go watch it if you want. anyways, this is an experimental writing for me. just trying things out. hopefully y'all like it!
contains: teenage!jessie x reader, angst until the last minute, they're dating or not? we'll see, homoerotic typical teenage girls situationship, "i wish you were a boy"
playing normal girl by sza 🎵
stay in pairs, they said. then you won't get lost, they said. which that was actual bullshit because jessie and you are lost in the woods right now. with no sense of direction at all. why would you tag along with the girl who probably couldn't tell her left from her right? oh yeah, you remember why.
because this girl with no sense of direction has been avoiding you for the last two months of highschool and you are tired of that. thinking that if you two have to be together for a few hours while on this week long end of the year trip that she would finally talk to you. not even having to be a conversation, but more then a few words in class about work.
"i think maybe we should stop walking for now," jessie says softly. she's a few steps ahead of you. her back is facing you, but you can tell she has a frustrated expression on that freckled face of hers. jessie didn't like lacking control in pretty much any situation. everybody thinks she's laidback, but you knew different. you know how angry she gets when soccer games don't go her way. how she cries after seeing a bad grade. the way she makes sure that everyone thinks of the word chill when it comes to her reputation.
that sense of needing control is really the basis for why you two are in this predicament right now but jessie would never admit it.
"nah. i think we should keep going or even try to turn back like i said earlier," you stare at her back. still she isn't facing you. your words come out sharper then they should, but can you really care right now when the sun is about to set and you have been walking for nearly two hours at this point and everything looks the same in every direction.
no, you don't have it in you to care.
jessie turns to face her finally but keeps her distance. like she's been doing for the past two months; always two steps ahead of you, too far away to reach because she would pull back if you tried.
"why do you think that? we are already lost. moving would just make it worse," she reasons with her usual logic that you would agree with it if it came from anyone else right now but your eyes are focused on the sun that is nearly set in the sky behind jessie and how her voice is way too nonchalant for the situation right now that you let your emotions control all your actions.
you shake your head in disagreement. jessie frowns at that. did you not take her words seriously?
"i told you that we should turn back nearly a whole hour ago and you thought you knew better," you let your frustration funnel into your words. jessie scoffs, ready to defend herself. when she scoffs you feel the strong urge to scoff as well because what rights does she have to be as frustrated as you?
ration and logic are not working in your mind right now.
"because we were walking around in a fucking circle, so i was trying to find i don't know like a river or something to follow. instead of going the back into that circle," she snaps back. the stress of the situation is starting to get to her. why would she agree to partner with you? was she out of her mind? were you of yours?
you snap back just as quick, "yeah because you aren't able to tell directions apart if your life depended on it. which it actually does right now and i wish you would stuff your pride up your ass so we can get somewhere."
"to get where? no, go ahead, tell me! we're stuck in the woods and everything looks the same and you think that you can just figure it out? you aren't a genius, y/n!" jessie shouts. not caring for her volume because who would even hear?
you let out a loud laugh at her words. oh, so the only conversation she can have with you is an argument. okay, that's fine. you'll give her that.
"i never said i was a genius. what do you expect me to do? maybe if you knew how to communicate, we wouldn't be here," you say to her, "you knew we were lost a while ago and didn't say a thing! then when i realized it, you got all pissy at me!"
"oh whatever. you can never pick up on what's happening unless it's fed to you?" she argues back.
"ever think maybe i followed you blindly into these woods because i trusted you?"
was the argument even about being lost anymore? was it ever about that?
"well, maybe you should learn to trust yourself more and listen to your intuition instead of relying on me," jessie says, not shouts. still the tension is laying there in between you two. she's still so far away from you, a few steps ahead. almost leaning against a tree but she's just stubbornly holding herself at that one spot really.
you nod your head. she wants you to trust yourself? you don't know why you didn't realize you guys were lost earlier, but you know why you partner up with her; you need answers. she wants you to listen to your intuition? okay.
"hm, okay. thanks for the advice. i have some of my own. how about not ignoring your girlfriend for two months straight," you say. a flash of surprise shows itself on jessie's face. she wasn't expecting that but she should have known you would bring that up eventually.
"my girlfriend? who said we were girlfriends?" the words don't even sound right coming out of jessie's mouth. she knows they're a lie. you're girlfriends but that doesn't mean she has to confirm it right now. out in the open where anyone could hear. even though nobody is around.
you want to laugh at her denial. who was she fooling? because there wasn't any audience there. just you and her. she couldn't lie to you so she was definitely lying to herself.
"that kiss we shared after practice underneath the bleachers or maybe the kiss we had on your birthday or the fact we spend, no use to spend, all our time together for nearly two years. your mom suspected something one time and now we aren't girlfriends anymore?" you say. jessie knows you have a point but she can't help to feel angry. you just don't get it.
"what did you expect? i couldn't let my mom figure anything out. i can't be seen like that with you!"
"and why is that?" you already knew the answer, but you want to hear it from jessie. even though it will hurt.
"because you aren't a boy!" she shouts but her voice drops into a lower volume when she speaks next, "and you knew that when you started to date me that nobody could know.. because you aren't a boy. sometimes i wish you were one."
okay. that really fucking hurts.
author notes: this is so messy and quick paced but i sorta like it. that's the literal ending, nothing else. i tried to use a few double meanings but idk if they landed. hopefully you guys liked my experiment.
© THINKINGABOUTJAEDYN
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{ 175 }
heartbreak feels so good.
jinwoo sung x fem.reader
warnings: mentions of physical intimacy, but nothing too explicit.
{ we could cry a little, cry a lot | don't stop dancing, don't dare stop | we'll cry later or cry now | you know it's heartbreak | we could dance our tears away | emancipate ourselves | we'll cry later or cry now, but baby | heartbreak feels so good }
anonymous said: HELLO!! ⭐ anon here and I have an idea. I literally can't stop thinking about it. It's gonna make my brain hurt so I won't hide it any longer ☹️
GAHAHAHAHAHAHA imagine Jinwoo who had a one night stand with reader. It was like after a party and they decided to hook up for one night, but reader regretted it afterwards bc of how shameful she thought she was—like bravely being involved with the Sung Jinwoo in such field??? Also what—he agreed and looked smug too or was she mistaken???
Jinwoo already knew reader and had been eyeing her for a while but didn't say anything about it. Before he even woke up, she was already gone and he was instantly reminded of the night they spent together.
Pookie got awkward after that and started to avoid Jinwoo. Meanwhile, little did she know, he actually liked to observe reader from afar. He'd often find it cute when she'd take one step away from him sideways as the tip of her ears go red.
Idk man one day Jinwoo just said "fuck this let's go on a date" and then boom their relationship bloomed. I'm so into this trope 😭 no toxicity, just two people being awkward and slowly exploring their actual feelings for each other. I'm sorry if this is too long, but still, if you saw this, thank you for reading. I hope you have a good day! I just can't help but yap every single change I get. ♪～(´ε｀ )
this had to be the biggest mistake of your life-
but truly, how could you have possibly even try to think straight when you had wanted nothing more than to just play pretend for one night? to actually feel like you were cherished and loved by someone who meant a lot to you?
the party you attended was, of course, thrown as a celebration for hunters and healers alike. the chairman had gone all out for everyone who had worked hard for the nation and wanted to give everyone a chance to de-stress and enjoy themselves.
from the fanciest bottles of champagne and wine that cost more than your salary to the perfectly catered food that seemed to suit everyone’s cravings and needs-
admittedly, you felt a bit out of your element.
the fact that so many people were here at this venue made you feel incredibly overwhelmed. in hopes of trying to maintain your sanity, you head over to the waiters and waitresses serving glass upon glass of expensive liquor, downing each of them while praying that the liquid courage would take effect and you could properly mingle with everyone else.
after downing just a few glasses of bubbly champagne, you could feel the heat against your cheeks coupled along with a slight tipsiness as the alcohol courses through your veins. yet, in the midst of your increasing drunken stupor, the strange sensation of being watched was what ultimately made you face him-
the tenth s-rank hunter, sung jinwoo.
he was leaning against the wall, tending to his own glass of red wine as his grey eyes remained rooted to your form. an almost mischievous grin was felt spreading across your lips, noticing how a certain blond hunter wasn’t latched on to him like a leech.
jinwoo is an incredibly fine specimen… i could work with this.
the alcohol in your system gave you the much needed courage to sidle up to him, your lips turned up in a smile as you casually smoothed out your dress. “hey hunter sung, funny seeing you here. you have always remained so elusive during gatherings like this.”
a look of pure amusement was shining within his grey eyes. “well, i figured it was time to change that, since it would be rude not to show up to at least one of the chairman’s events.”
you hum at his answer while sliding your hand up his dress shirt, earning a choked sound from him. “hm, you know, i was shocked to not see hunter cha clinging to you tonight. she’s the type that can never seem to leave you alone…”
“ah, w-well, she doesn’t always wish to hang out with me now that i’ve- wait, what are you doing?”
wow, his skin is so smooth… i can feel his muscles from beneath this flimsy dress shirt.
jinwoo’s breath hitches when your press the palm of your hand against his chest, purposely trailing your touches down to his abdomen as you leaned up to whisper in his ear. “the chairman said he rented out some floors of the hotel in case his guests got tired. shall i keep you company instead of cha hae-in tonight?”
you never got a chance to hear jinwoo’s answer or see his expression. simply grabbing a hold of his hand, you took the elevators to one of the booked floors, taking a card key from one of the hotel staff before shoving jinwoo into one of the rooms.
all you wanted was a chance to experience this type of intimacy with a man you respected and admired-
but you weren’t expecting jinwoo to be so gentle with you throughout it all.
you didn’t expect him to kiss every inch of your skin, filling you with so much pleasure that you became sensitive to his every touch.
you didn’t expect him to slowly make love to you, tangling your limbs together like he never wanted to let go of you.
and you certainly didn’t expect to experience such an intense release throughout your night together with jinwoo.
with the post lovemaking (and post champagne) quality kicking in just a few hours later, you awaken in the middle of the night with a start, feeling cold as the night air pricked at your skin, sending goosebumps down the length of your arms. your heart was a pounding mess as you ran a hand through your tangled hair.
recalling the ache felt between your legs, you look behind you to see jinwoo still sound asleep. he lay on his stomach, with the sheets just barely clinging on to his muscled back, making your mouth water in response.
your lips itched with the sudden desire to latch against his skin;
your whole body was screaming at you to just lay next to him and bask in his warmth;
but it was the more rational part of your mind that stopped you from acting on those irrational urges.
he’s going to wake up and regret sleeping with you.
with a purse of your lips, you allow your bare feet to touch at the carpeted floors. you slowly began to pick up the remnants of your undergarments while hastily putting them on along with your now wrinkled dress.
never once did you avert your gaze from jinwoo.
never once did he awaken to try and stop you from leaving.
it’s for the best.
giving the sleeping jinwoo one last look of yearning, you silently left the hotel room with every intention of never seeing the famous hunter ever again.
{ … }
to say you were embarrassed after that night would be the understatement of the century.
you had little clue as to truly how much time had passed, since your mind kept giving you flashbacks of how drunk and needy you were-
and also how caring jinwoo was when he willingly spent the night with you.
this embarrassment was what fuels you to continue avoiding jinwoo like a damn plague, with you taking on much lower leveled raids, raids that jinwoo wouldn’t pay the slightest attention to while slowly burying yourself with your duties.
you never sought to join any guilds and made it your life’s mission to stay far away from ahjin’s building, never once wishing to run into jinwoo.
in fact, you were perfectly fine with acting like your one night stand with him never happened at all.
however, unlucky for you, jinwoo himself didn’t seem to share that same sentiment.
{ … }
the moment you left him that night was the moment jinwoo had his first taste of true regret.
he felt so happy and excited when you approached him and invited him to spend the night with you. you never knew it, but jinwoo was achingly in love with you. he had hoped that with this chance, he could spoil you rotten with pleasure while taking great lengths to worship you; to love you like he had always wanted to.
when he could feel the pleasure washing over you with each and every stroke, jinwoo had gone a little crazy over you. the poor hunter had to bite down on his lips to prevent his words of utter love and devotion for you from spilling out.
but instead of choosing to tell you with words, he tells you with his actions alone.
yet still, it wasn’t enough to keep you by his side-
which was frustrating, to say the least.
jinwoo was no fool; he could tell that you were taking great lengths to avoid him. each time he would try to find you (whether it be during raids or just in general around the city) you would find ways to avoid ever meeting him by either switching out with another hunter / healer, or using the crowd to hide yourself away from him.
whenever this happens, jinwoo could only manage to let out an exasperated sigh in response. his hair would become a mess from the sheer amount of times he had run his fingers through them, trying to think of new ways to talk to you and finally confess.
throughout it all, jinwoo was left feeling a little listless, his mind always managing to go back to you…
by now, jinwoo had become desperate to finally have you.
while staring blankly at the ceiling of his office, jinwoo leans back against his chair while whispering your name.
if jinwoo couldn’t get to you by fair means, then he would have to start playing dirty, using his abilities as the shadow monarch to finally get through to you.
{ … }
so far, everything had been going according to plan on your end.
you had been successfully avoiding jinwoo for close to 4 months now, and when you were certain his lingering presence was no longer felt or seen within your periphery did you finally decide to head out for the night.
you were dying to get out of your apartment, wanting to try that new café or head to your go-to bookstore to read a new novel or two. yet your desire to always avoid jinwoo made you turn into a bit of a hermit (albeit unwillingly, but still.)
basking in the night air and the bustling sounds of seoul, you walked with a bit of a bounce in your step, thinking about your plans for the night. while you walked, you kept your gaze forward, and was caught off guard by the strangest phenomenon.
one minute, the sidewalk was free of any pedestrians, and the next, a man wearing an expensive looking coat appears just a mere inches away from you.
you recall letting out a gasp, hands already outreached to try and avoid face planting against the man’s broad back-
however, when he turns around was when you felt all of the air leave your lungs.
sung jinwoo was now facing you, his height still towering over you as his arms remained open, casually catching you within his embrace as your face landed against his chest. by now, your heart was pounding, making the blood rush to your ears as you began to feel dizzy.
“looks like i finally caught you.” a rich chuckle fills your ears when jinwoo places a lingering kiss against the top of your head, causing you to let out several sputters of his name.
“h-how did you-“
“did you forget who i am… and what i can do?”
his question successfully makes your heart skip beats, thinking back to the rumors that pertained to jinwoo and his ability to summon millions of shadow soldiers. along with this ability, you also knew that he could place many of those soldiers within anyone’s shadow while exchanging places with them on a whim.
“what? w-when did you manage to place your soldiers within my shadow?”
jinwoo hums, placing a hand beneath your chin, forcing you to look him in the eye. “when you came up to me at the party and lead me back to the hotel room.” a sly smile paints his handsome features when he leans down to whisper against your ear, “but you have to understand, even before that night, i was already half in love with you. i couldn’t help it when you gave me such a perfect opportunity.”
his sudden confession nearly makes you fall to your knees, but jinwoo manages to catch you in time, wrapping his arms around your waist while holding you even closer to him.
“so tell me, my beloved treasure, why you were so dead set on avoiding me?” he meets your gaze then, eyes filled with a subtle look of pain. “do you know how much it hurt me, seeing you ignoring me so blatantly like that?”
your breathing comes out as uneven, with you avoiding his gaze as you played with the front of his shirt, “i’m sorry, i thought that night was the only way to experience that type of intimacy with you. i convinced myself that i was nothing to you… and i-“
you hear jinwoo let out a hiss of your name before crashing his lips against yours in a searing kiss. it was enough to make you swallow your words as you moaned into his kiss, shyly kissing him back as jinwoo tightens his arms around you.
“shut up.” he manages to hoarsely say against your lips. “you drive me so fucking crazy all the time, but i still love you this much. never talk down about yourself in such a way ever again, because from this point on, you’re mine.”
you look into his eyes once more and see them burning a deep purple for you. there wasn’t a hint of a lie within the depths of his gaze, and the truth of his confession was finally beginning to sink into you.
“o-oh…”
your heart seemed to be beating a mile a minute now, racing so much that it overwhelmed you with its rapid palpitations.
letting out one last sigh of your name, jinwoo brings your head back into his chest, hugging you tightly. “when i’m done holding you like this, i’m going to take you out on a much needed date, and you are finally going to give us a chance. if you try to run again, just know that i will keep chasing you while chipping away at the walls you stubbornly built around your heart.”
you let out a tiny squeak, but couldn’t help but grin in response to his passionate words. “your plan is already working.” you murmur against his chest.
moving away from jinwoo, you look up at him with bright eyes all while giving him a genuine smile. “my heart is already yours, so-“
jinwoo interrupts you yet again, this time by picking you up and spinning you around in happy circles, hands clutched tightly against your sides when he brings you back down to him. nuzzling his nose against yours, you watch as a smirk paints his gorgeous features.
“it’s about damn time you finally admitted your feelings for me.”
and with yet another kiss shared beneath the city lights, you no longer felt the pangs of heartbreak filling your veins, feeling it slowly morph into the requited love you had always desired with your beloved sung jinwoo ♡
a.n. - and i’m so happy to finish this. this should be my 40th jinwoo oneshot, which is insane to think about 😭 currently unedited but, i hope you enjoyed this @ ⭐️ anon 🥹
all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.
#sung jinwoo x reader#jinwoo sung x reader#sung jinwoo x you#jinwoo sung x you#solo leveling x reader
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First Shave
Was originally going to be a comic, but I figured a fic would be easier...
When Oliver woke up, he didn't feel different at all. The day carried on like normal - he got up, he got dressed, and he was starting to head for the bathroom. When he walked by the mirror, he stopped dead in his tracks before realizing what he saw was himself.
Along the curve of his jaw and under his lip, patchy black lines had started to form where his first beard was starting to come in. In awe, he ran his hand along and felt the bumpy surface, confirming it was real and he wasn't still dreaming. He clicked his tongue, as excited as he was about it, the hair was patchy and uneven. There was no way this was going to grow into a nice beard, but still... The fact that it grew in at all was amazing.
His excitement quickly died down as he realized something... unfortunate. He didn't have a razor, which meant he was going to have to brave the dining hall where majority of the members of Crown would be gathered for breakfast. Would they be happy for him too? Indifferent?
Oliver's heart was pounding in his chest as he tried to carry on with his morning routine, but his eyes kept drifting back to the hairs on his chin.
Soon it was time to brave the dining hall. He took a deep breath and walked in, trying to act like nothing had changed and that everything was business as usual, but that act fell apart the moment everyone's eyes were on him.
"Wow!" Liam chirped, being the first to break the silence. "Roger's treatment worked well, huh?"
Jude scoffed. "You're not keeping that, right?" He asked. "It's growing in all weird."
"Well, would you look at that." Roger said as he motioned for Oliver to come over. He did comply and Roger grabbed his chin to turn his head, giving a low whistle. "Jude's right though, if you want an actual beard, you're gonna have to shave that off and try again."
"I mean, I would like to have one at some point, it's just..." Oliver trailed off. Liam then perked up.
"Oh, right, you didn't have any use for a razor prior, uh?" He asked. "Well, sounds like you need one now."
"Yeah, I guess I'll have to look into one." Oliver sighed. For now, he would sit down and join them for breakfast. Not much was said about his facial hair after that.
--
As the day went on, Oliver found himself bouncing from task to task. First, Victor (after doting on Oliver's facial hair for a brief moment and congratulating him on another milestone reached in his transition) needed some packages picked up. Oliver thought he could go shopping while he was out, but one thing lead to another and he found himself helping Jude out at the docks.
After that, it was time to go back to the forest to clear his traps to make sure there was nothing left to the wild animals there and he was short some good furs. After the traps were reset and cleared up, he had to take care of what he did find to make sure the furs were good to sell.
Of course, then there was the meat from those hunts, and Oliver hated to see good meat go to waste. Some went back to the castle, the rest he was able to give off to others who needed the meat more.
By the time he made his back to the castle, it was already dusk. Mentally cursing himself for not shopping while he was out, Oliver retired to his room. As he opened the door, he noticed that there was a package on his bed. He tilted his head as he approached to pick it up.
The package was tied neatly in a simple cloth that was easily undone. Inside was a box that Oliver opened. He could see a razor, some shaving cream, some facial towels, but there was no note nor anything else to indicate who left it. He glanced around just in case it was Liam and he was just invisible, waiting for Oliver to find the gift before showing himself, but no, there was nobody.
"Huh." He said before setting the gift down on his nightstand. Strange, maybe he would figure out who left it tomorrow.
--
The next day he joined everyone again at the dining hall, but as their meal ended, he approached Roger. Roger glanced up at him with a curious look, but allowed Oliver to speak first. "Hey," he said, "do you know how left the razor in my room?"
"First I'm hearing of it, lad." Roger said with a shrug. "I have my guesses as to who would do that, but I don't know for sure."
"Oh, I thought maybe..." No, this wasn't something Roger would do, would it? "Never mind."
Roger just shrugged, allowing the moment to pass. "Do you even know how to use a razor?" He asked Oliver, who shook his head. "Well, I'm due for a shave as well." He said as he ran his hand along his chin. Oliver could hear how the hair scratched against his hand. "How about you come with me and I can show you some tricks so I don't have to patch you up later?"
"I'd like that actually." Oliver said. "Meet you in your bathroom?"
"See you there."
--
Oliver arrived first with the gift he received. He laid it on the counter space as he waited for Roger to arrive. Strange, why did he feel nervous about this? His head flicked towards the door as it opened and Roger walked in.
"Ah, good, you did show up." Roger moved to pull his supplies out as well before he plugged and filled the sink. "Now, you're going to follow my steps, alright, lad?"
Oliver watched as Roger rinsed his face, applied his cream, and started to shave. He mirrored exactly what he saw and began to shave along side him. It was soothing in a way. There was something thrilling about how mundane this all was. It was just a part of his life now. As Oliver thought about that, he ended up stopping.
Roger paused as well to glance over. "You alright? Did you nick yourself?" He asked. Oliver gasped before continued.
"No, I'm just... I think I'm happy." He said in a more quiet voice. Roger had to laugh. Of course Oliver was happy, this was a huge step for him.
"The novelty will wear off soon enough." He reassured. "But hey, we're all happy for you. You looked scared yesterday, but after breakfast, you started to hold your head up a little higher."
"Did I...?" Oliver asked. "Huh, didn't notice."
"Yep, it's true, you can ask anyone about it. Now, focus on your shave there, you're not used it and you don't want to walk around with half of your face bandaged, right?"
--
With his face freshly shaven, Oliver made his way to the library. There were some books he wanted to grab. William had spoken to him about the prospect of going back to school and suggested some topics for him to look into for something that caught his eye. It was time to put some hours into research.
As he entered, he could see it was just Jude who was there. He looked up from the book he was reading before closing it. "Ah, much better." He said. "I see you used that gift, huh?"
Oliver stopped dead. "It was you?" He asked. "Why?"
"I told you, that beard looked like shit. I'm doing you a favor helping you shave it back for now. Don't worry, we can talk payment later." There was that usual smirk on his face as Oliver shook his head.
"Regardless, thanks, Jude."
"Oi, oi, didn't you hear me? It was because I didn't want to see that patchy look. The hell are you thanking me for?" Jude scoffed.
"Ah, right, I forgot how you work." Oliver snickered. "Well, don't worry, the next time you see me with a beard, it'll be full and even."
Jude rolled his eyes. "Do what you want." He then left Oliver alone to his studies. Oliver couldn't help but smile as he worked. Even Jude seemed to find his own ways to support him, and that made him feel even happier.
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hi mira i’m going to rq for jjk (gojo specifically) :) kinda inspired by a fic idea of mine so if i see you post it maybe it’ll give me inspo to actually write too LOL — this is also a little long sorry, you can shorten as you wish 😓 maybe it’ll get the brain juices going idk
Y/N was really close to geto (i was thinking siblings but do whatever) and when he turned curse user and left, it made Y/N rethink why she was a sorcerer herself. she believed in geto’s ideals, but seeing his mindset 180 made her question if the same thing would happen to her since she was always weaker-minded than him. so she quit dropped out of the school and gojo never saw her since
skipping to the present, Y/N became a sorcerer again after having a conversation with geto some time before he died. with yuji being sukuna’s vessel, she goes to the school herself and sees gojo (their last convo was actually an argument leaving everything [him] behind). gojo’s just really stubborn, but he’s there when Y/N really needs him. from there they only keep encountering each other until they make up, their feelings are all out on the table, etc. etc.
── CHIAROSCURO
Synopsis: You don’t really know who you are without Suguru Geto. Satoru Gojo doesn’t know who he is without either of you.
Event Masterlist
Pairing: Gojo x Reader, Geto & Reader have something less than romantic but more than platonic going on
Chapter Word Count: 6.7k
Content Warnings: angst, mentions of death, flawed y/n character, major time skips, most plot events happen off screen, characters are probably ooc tbh i haven’t written for jjk in months
A/N: finally finished the first of the requests I’ve received so far!! it ended up being way more geto-centric than i had planned for it to be though i’m so sorry angel 😭 and it was also getting way too long so i decided to end it by just hinting the development of the rest of the story you mentioned LMAO i hope that’s okay 😫
Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own.
Most people grew up with one shadow, but according to your mother, you had lived your entire life with two. The first was the same as the one everyone had, that darkening of the ground in the shape of your figure. The second was the boy who lived next door — or, at least, that was what she told you.
His name was Suguru Geto, and despite his dark features and darker clothing, he had a perpetually sunny demeanor, always quick to offer you a gentle smile whenever you glanced his way. He was polite even when it wasn’t required of him, and though your mother teased you for it, you knew she was secretly grateful for his presence in your life.
The greatest thing Suguru had ever done for you, though, was not teach you manners. It was that he gave you someone to follow. Perhaps it was true that he was your shadow, but it was his in which you cowered when you were frightened, when the brightness of the world was too harsh for your eyes, which, when it came to cruelties and horrors, were as sensitive and new as a child’s.
Suguru was always happy to take on that role. He would stand in front of you, his shoulder blades pinching together as he puffed out his chest and rebuked whichever neighborhood child had dared to tease you. They all ran from him when he was like that, when his brow grew heavy over his eyes and the corners of his mouth twisted into a scowl.
Not you, though. You stayed behind his back, blinking owlishly at the way the others scurried, laughing along when Suguru likened them to mice with a click of his tongue.
Suguru didn’t like those who hurt the ones weaker than them, so you didn’t, either. Suguru thought that the role of the strong was to protect the frail, so you did, too. Whatever Suguru believed, you did as well, because what else was there for you? It was easier for you to hold onto his hand and press against his back, to allow him to tell you where to place your feet, so that there was never even a chance of you falling.
That was why it wasn’t a surprise that, upon Suguru being scouted as a sorcerer, you were extended the same invitation. It was a natural consequence — where he went, you followed, and so when he packed his things and went to Tokyo, it was both of your bags that he was carrying, while you peered around the train station and wondered what kind of place you were going to end up in.
Your new classmate was the one that picked the two of you up. He was tall — taller than even Suguru, though the majority of his body consisted of his legs — and had an unearthly appearance, with pale hair carefully mussed into a seemingly thoughtless style and black glasses which slid down the bridge of his nose to reveal eyes like diamonds.
He was the most brilliant thing you had ever seen. Lowering your eyes, you stepped back into Suguru’s shadow, earning you a scoff from your classmate and a worried exhale from your friend.
“Blech,” he said. “You’re supposed to be my classmate, really? How’re you going to keep up, huh? I’m the strongest sorcerer in the world, you know.”
“I think we’ll manage just fine,” Suguru said pleasantly, though there was an edge to his voice, his teeth like knives when he smiled and offered his hand. “I’m Suguru Geto.”
“Satoru Gojo,” your classmate said, shaking Suguru’s hand firmly. “Looking forward to working with you.”
“Likewise,” Suguru said. “And this is Y/N L/N.”
“Hi,” you said, swallowing even as you said it, pursing your lips and glancing around, wishing for some kind of escape. Gojo hummed and then poked you on the forehead.
“Aw,” he said when you did not visibly react beyond furrowing your brow. “I thought you might fall over or something.”
“I see,” you said. “Um. Well, it’s nice to meet you.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he said. “Come on. Let’s go before our teacher gives us all detention for playing hooky.”
Unlike Suguru, Gojo didn’t allow you to follow him around. He made fun of you when you were scared and poked you on the forehead if you cringed away from his taunts. The latter occurred so frequently that you were surprised there was not a permanent indent in your skin.
“One day I’ll get you, pretty Y/N,” he’d always promise you. “Seriously! I mean, you barely have a backbone in the first place, so it’s really a wonder you’re standing at all.”
At first, Suguru used to demand he stop, but as the months went by, his protests grew weaker and weaker. You supposed that it must’ve been nice for him, to stand beside someone for once instead of constantly throwing himself in front of them. You could not blame him, but you found that you missed him more with every passing day.
But what was there to be done about it? After all, you were nothing compared to the two special grade sorcerers. You did what you could and found it was, for the most part, sufficient, but sufficient would never let you exist beside either of them in any way that mattered. So you fell behind, and this time, it was not a conscious choice but an unavoidable circumstance. This time, when you hung back, Suguru continued forward without you.
Empty-minded and weak-hearted. That was what your teacher called you. He sent you on the simplest missions he could, and still you struggled. Sometimes, this meant you would sit alone in the classroom until it was long past dusk, listening to your teacher ramble and shout.
“You are not weak!” he would say, his hands clenched into fists by his side. “By all rights, your technique is perfectly serviceable. You are not weak, Y/N L/N!”
“Yes, sir,” you would respond meekly.
“At least, you should not be,” he’d say. “Yet somehow, inexplicably, you are. Even a Grade 2 curse nearly got the better of you. Your classmates are exorcising special grades on their own! Aren’t you disgusted with yourself?”
Suguru, and sometimes Gojo, would wait outside of the door for you, lingering until they heard the shuffle of your feet, the soft sniffles which announced your arrival. Then Suguru would wrap a casual arm around your shoulders and tell you that it was fine if you were weak, just as long as he was around to protect you, and Gojo would do that infuriating thing where he’d poke you in the forehead and pretend like it was a miracle you hadn’t toppled over yet.
Otherwise, you did not see your classmates. Shoko Ieri was far too busy learning to do things you could never hope to accomplish in your lifetime, and Suguru and Gojo were called on to complete assignments with such unhealthy regularity that their education actually suffered for it.
You never knew what they did on their missions. You never cared to ask, either. The details would only make you queasy, and in this new world where you were not permitted to shudder and seek out the safety that Suguru so willingly provided you with, you tried to avoid things like that. Harsh things, brilliant things, cruel things — all of them you ran from at an equal pace. Without Suguru there to defend you, you turned into one of those children he had so-despised in your youth. Always running. Always hiding. Always shying away from anything resembling a challenge.
It was after one such mission that Suguru returned differently. You knew he had changed because he crawled into your bed that night instead of his own, drew the blanket up around his shoulders and pressed his weeping eyes against your collarbones.
“It’s no good,” he said after the third time you had asked him what was the matter, your hands nervously skimming over his shoulders, smoothing over his rough hair. “Everything’s been ruined, Y/N. Or maybe it was always like this. Maybe you’re the only one who’s ever understood the world to begin with.”
The next morning, when his feet touched the ground and he slid out of your bed, you were hit with the strangest feeling that you would never see him again. Not in the way you were used to seeing him, anyways. Sitting up in your bed, leaning against your pillows, you watched as he left, though when he went to close the door behind him, you reached out your hand.
“Wait,” you said. He paused, raising his eyebrows.
“Is everything okay?” he said, his knuckles growing white from gripping the handle.
“I want to look at you,” you said. You knew without knowing that the instant the door shut between the two of you, you would lose him forever. Your best friend. Your shadow. You wished that there was a way you could reach out and save him, but the thought of you saving someone was outlandish. Impossible. Laughable.
“Yeah?” he said. There were heavy bags under his eyes, and it did not reach his irises, but nevertheless, he somehow managed to muster up a smile. It was not gentle as much as it was exhausted, but still, he smiled as best he could at you. “Okay.”
You hugged one of the pillows to your chest. “I miss you a lot.”
“I haven’t gone anywhere,” he said.
“Not yet,” you said. “I think you will someday, though. You’ll go somewhere far away, and I won’t be able to follow you there. You won’t even want me to.”
“What kind of place is that?” he said. “I’ll always want you to follow me around, Y/N. As long as I’m there, not a corner on this planet could be a place I don’t want you to follow me to.”
The door creaked shut. You stared at the blank expanse and thought to yourself that he had always been very good at lying.
From that day forward, there were two opposite phenomena which occurred simultaneously. On the one hand, that blinding radiance of Gojo’s was magnified by the minute, and on the other, Suguru withdrew further and further into a grey sort of monotony that, try as you might, you could not pull him from.
“Gojo,” you said one day, tugging on his sleeve and flinching when he turned to look at you. As per usual, he pressed his finger into your forehead.
“Yikes,” he said. “Seems like you’re still lacking in the spinal department, dear Y/N. But just so you know, I’ve cheated off of your math homework enough times that you really shouldn’t be scared of me.”
“Please help Suguru,” you said.
“Eh?” Gojo said. “What do you mean? Help him with what, his math homework? I’ll just give him yours to copy as well, so why don’t you cut the middle man and show it to him yourself?”
“No, not with — just, he’s going away, and I don’t want him to, but he doesn’t — you’re the only one,” you stammered.
It was even more difficult to speak with Gojo now than it had been when you had first come to school. That was because it was only recently that you were realizing that that way he made you feel, that shyness, that apprehension, was not because of his gleaming, sharp countenance, but rather something else, something soft in your heart that thudded to life whenever he smirked at you.
“You want me to take his mission for him?” Gojo said, his nose wrinkling. “What, so the two of you can go on a date or something? Forget about it.”
“What?” you said. “No, what — a date — that’s not what I meant!”
It was too late. Gojo was gone, and with him, your last chance at helping Suguru vanished, too. In fact, Gojo avoided you until you went home from the summer break, making a face whenever you glanced his way, and by the time you came back to start the next year, it was too late for anyone to do much of anything.
“Y/N L/N,” Masamichi Yaga said, entering the library where you were writing a paper for your literature class. He cleared his throat uncomfortably, his cheeks a dark, flushed color, his teeth gritted together so hard that a muscle in his jaw twitched periodically. “Do you have a moment? It’s urgent.”
“I was just working on the essay that we were assigned, but it can wait,” you said agreeably, all too eager to give yourself a break from the work. Pushing aside your paper and pen, you stood up, massaging your wrist. “What is it, sir?”
“It’s, er…” His shoulders slumped. “I’m really sorry, Miss L/N.”
You tried to run through the list of things that he could be sorry for, but only one thing came to mind. You froze, your eyes widening. He had been on a mission, hadn’t he?
“Suguru,” you breathed. “Is it — it’s not about Suguru, is it?”
“In a sense, it is,” Yaga said.
“Is he alright?” you said. “He has to be alright.”
“We believe his condition is fine, considering what he’s done,” Yaga said.
“‘What he’s done?’ Why are you being so vague? What’s going on, sir? Please say it plainly,” you said.
“It’s your parents, Miss L/N,” he said, spitting it out all at once like the phrase itself was poisoned. “They’re dead.”
Your stomach dropped. You had imagined so many things. In your nightmares, you saw your classmates dying, your teachers, even yourself. But never your parents. Your parents, who were so far removed from this awful world. Your parents, who only a month ago had sent you back to school with a pair of new shoes they had saved up to buy. You parents, who had never harmed anyone in their lives. What had they done that was so terrible it warranted such a sudden death? What were they being punished for?
“How — how did it happen?” you said. “Was it a curse?”
“Miss L/N…” Yaga said, his entire self deflating. “I’m really sorry.”
“What? Stop apologizing,” you said, tears gathering in your eyes. “Just tell me. Stop saying sorry and tell me!”
“It was most likely Suguru Geto,” he said, handing you a piece of paper. Your vision swam, and you could barely make out the words. All residents of the village were killed. Jujutsu High investigated. Based on residuals…all 112…the work of Geto’s curse manipulation. Sentenced to death. Sentenced to death. Sentenced to death.
“No,” you said, your voice cracking. “No, why would he do that? My parents loved him, and he loved them, too! We grew up together, so why would he do that?”
“Based on the evidence, he most likely killed his own parents, too,” Yaga said. Your hands wound themselves in your hair as you tugged.
“That’s a lie,” you said. “Suguru isn’t like that. Suguru is good! Suguru looks out for those weaker than himself! He protects people, Yaga. It must be a mistake. It has to be a mistake!”
“Miss L/N—” he began, but you were already running, sprinting as fast as you could. There was no way. There was no way. There was no way.
Your house and the one beside it — Suguru’s house, a voice in the back of your mind nagged you, that’s Suguru’s house — were blocked off with yellow caution tape. Dozens of police officers were milling about the scene, barking into handheld radios, conversing tensely. One of them noticed you and extended an arm to stop your approach.
“Stay back, ma’am. This is an active crime scene. No outsiders allowed until the investigation has been concluded,” the officer said.
“That’s my house,” you whispered. “Officer, that’s my house. Why are there so many people here? It’s not true, is it?”
The officer didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. The pitying frown on his face told you everything you needed to hear. It was true. It was true. Your parents, your parents were dead, and that meant —
What had it been like for them? Had your mother welcomed him? When she opened the door for him, had her eyes crinkled at the corners in greeting? Had she offered him tea, as she usually did, because she was so fond of him and he was so fond of the drink when made by her hand? And what of your father? Had he reached over to clap Suguru on the back, or had he tried to grab him in an affectionate headlock so that he could mess up his hair with all the zeal of a man half his age?
You threw up. Some of the vomit splattered onto the officer’s shoes, causing him to fold his lips into a thin, disapproving line. Taking a step back, he reached over to pat you on the back as you heaved and hacked, trying to expel the knowledge from your mind and finding that you were entirely unable to.
You walked back to the train station in a trance, your eyes reddened and glazed over, your mouth sour from the taste of the stale crackers the officer had handed you, your hands shoved in your pockets as you tried to remember to breathe through your nose. The officer had offered to escort you to the station, but you had refused. You needed the time to think, and anyways, what did it matter? No ordinary person could hurt you, and no sorcerer would.
“I didn’t think you’d come back alone,” a soft voice said from behind you. You turned around, your insides roiling at the very sound, your ears ringing as you took in Suguru’s casual posture. His hands, too, were in his pockets, and the streetlights cast misshapen, dancing shadows over his face, the effect worsened by the odd tilt of his head.
He was refusing to look at you. That was why he was standing like that. He couldn’t bear to look you in the eyes, and that was the only confirmation you needed.
“So what?” you said. “I did. Are you going to kill me next?”
“What?” he said. Briefly, he glanced up at you in alarm, and then, like he had remembered he didn’t deserve to feel betrayed by that kind of question, he slouched back down into the same apathy of earlier. “No.”
“Just do it,” you said. “Just do it, you fucking asshole! Why would — you — you killed my parents! You killed my parents, and now you’re just talking to me as if nothing happened? Why? Why would you…?”
His expression did not budge again. “They were filthy monkeys who deserved it.”
“Huh?” you said. The statement was so bizarre that, for a moment, your anger was forgotten. “What the fuck?”
“This world doesn’t need more non-sorcerers running around,” he said. “Every single curse you’ve ever fought, it’s their fault. Those idiots who don’t know how to control the meager amounts of cursed energy they have, they’re the ones who cause curses to manifest. You should be thanking me, Y/N. This’ll make your life that much easier.”
“Do you really think that's the case?” you said.
“Yes,” he said. “With my entire heart, I think that it is.”
You had always, always followed Suguru. When he said to protect the weak, you did so. When he said to take care of others, you did that, too. Whatever he told you to believe, you believed. But how could you do that this time? How could you believe in the person who had murdered your parents?
“You killed my parents because of your stupid theory,” you said numbly. “You killed my parents. Suguru, you killed my parents.”
You didn’t care about the one hundred and twelve villagers. That was the most shameful thing: if it had just been that, then you might still have followed him. He could’ve convinced you — no. You could’ve convinced yourself that it was fine, that he really was looking out for you in that peculiar manner of his. It wouldn’t have been impossible. Even now, your resolve was so weak, and it was only the thought of your parents that allowed you to cling to it at all.
“They asked about you,” he said dully. “I let them. My own parents, I didn’t give them a chance to say anything, but yours…I let them ask. I guess you could consider it my last favor to you.”
The ringing grew louder. You pushed your palms against your ears in an effort to drown it out, but you couldn’t. If anything, it just grew louder and louder, more and more insistent. You couldn’t shake it off. You couldn’t make it go away, just like you couldn’t make Suguru’s words go away.
“It was the only thing they worried about. In their last moments, it wasn’t their own lives they begged for…it was yours,” he said, his gaze far away, his irises unreadable as he recalled that moment. “How strange is that?”
“Shut up,” you said.
“I told them you were okay,” he said.
“Shut up,” you repeated, though it was unsteady and unconvincing. “Shut up, shut up.”
“They were pretty happy about that,” he said, in a tone filled with dreamy recollection. “They didn’t fight much after I promised you’d be okay. What simple creatures they must have been, that even while dying they could only think to rejoice!”
You screamed. It was wordless and brittle, a symptom of your lungs’ collapse as you broke into sobs, fumbling in your purse for your phone. Suguru watched as you unsteadily punched in a number you had never bothered to save, not trying to stop you, maybe not seeing the point.
“Gojo,” you said when he picked up, before he could even say anything. “Gojo, please just — can you come get me? Please come get me.”
“Okay,” he said, to your surprise. He didn’t argue or call it a waste of time or point out that you were still bawling as you spoke. “Where are you? I can be there pretty soon if I steal one of the managers’ cars, I think.”
“By my house,” you said. Suguru did not move, showing you his hands, as if he was giving you permission to do what you wanted. It was your choice. If you just told Gojo that he was with you, then you had no doubt he’d be apprehended within minutes.
“I see,” he said. “I’ll be there as quickly as possible.”
You were the one who hung up, not him. You were the one who made the decision. You were the one who looked at Suguru and then turned your back to him so that, for once, he was the one behind you.
“I can’t reconcile it,” you said, using the ends of your sleeves to blot at your tears as you hiccuped. “I can’t understand it. Even after everything, I still want to follow you. I still want you to be my shadow. I still want to be yours.”
Don’t turn. Don’t turn. Don’t turn. You couldn’t turn around. If you turned around, then that meant your old teacher was right. Empty-minded. Weak-hearted. You could not turn around.
A dry breeze rustled through the leaves on the ground, sounding like footsteps against pavement. Don’t turn.
You turned. You should’ve known better than to expect anything different from yourself. You had never been someone who could stand in the front for very long. You would always turn. You would always run and cower and hide.
Anything you might’ve said died on your tongue as you saw he was already gone. You were alone. You had let him go. You had allowed that mass murderer, that criminal, to walk away from you. What kind of a sorcerer were you? Empty-minded. Weak-hearted. That sort, then. The horrible sort.
When the headlights of the car Gojo had borrowed swung around the corner, you had long since curled up on the grass, your cheek to the mud as you tried to grasp what you had done.
“Hey,” Gojo said. “Y/N?”
He must’ve gotten out of the car at some point, because suddenly, he was crouching before you, pulling you to your feet, his limbs awkward and gangly as he cocked his head, still wearing those ridiculous sunglasses despite the darkness.
“I’m a piece of shit,” you said, and then you were clutching the collar of his uniform jacket. “Why am I like this?”
“What do you mean?” he said.
“He killed my parents,” you said. “He killed my parents, and I let him walk away.”
“Who?” Gojo said, but it was a rhetorical question. He knew who. You looked up at him miserably, and he shook his head slightly, like he couldn’t quite comprehend what you were saying. “You let who walk away?”
“I don’t think he was planning on seeing me,” you said, letting go of his shirt and pleading with him to understand. “We weren’t supposed to meet.”
“You saw Suguru,” Gojo accused, and now it was his turn to take you by the shoulders, his fingers digging into the muscle of your biceps, his eyes wild. “You saw him, and you didn’t tell me.”
Your lower lip trembled. “He killed my parents, Gojo.”
“That’s not true,” he said.
“It is,” you said. “It is, he told me it is, and I couldn’t even do anything when he said so.”
“Why?” Gojo hissed. “You only had to tell me! Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I just didn’t!” you said, and then you were crying again. “I couldn’t. Oh, they’re dead, and he killed them, he killed them, and they only asked about me when he did. Why am I the one who gets to live?”
His hands traveled from your arms to the nape of your neck, the heels of his palms pressing into your jaw as he tried to force you to look at him. But you couldn’t, of course you couldn’t, you hadn’t been able to before and you definitely couldn’t now.
“You know Suguru better than anyone. Don’t you think there’s something else at play?” Gojo said. He wasn’t asking for you. He was asking for himself. He wanted you to reassure him, tell him that it was alright, that his best friend wasn’t the monster you both knew he was. How was it fair? How could you be expected to reassure him?
You shoved him off of you. “No.”
“Then why’d you let him go?” Gojo said. “You must’ve thought that there was a reason, or else you would’ve told me. It’s the only explanation!”
“No, it’s not! The only explanation is that I’m shitty and weak and stupid, and I can’t help but rely on him. No matter what I do, I’ll rely on him! People like you don’t understand what it feels like. You can stand on your own, but I’m not like that!” you said, and then you were grabbing his hand — he always did that, you noticed, always turned his Infinity off for you even now that it was an automatic, constant process — unfurling his fingers and jabbing his index finger at your forehead. “Do you get it? You were right. I don’t have a spine. I don’t have one at all!”
“Pull yourself together, Y/N,” Gojo said. “He’s still out there. We just have to reach him before the others do, and then we can talk to him. If it’s the both of us, then he’ll listen. He’ll explain everything!”
“He already did,” you said. “You just don’t accept it, but that’s different than him not explaining at all.”
“So what, then? You’re just going to go back to the school and live your life as normal?” he said, scowling at you. “How could you even think of doing that? In what world does that make sense? You can’t go back and pretend like nothing happened!”
“It’s true. I can’t,” you said, because it was the fact you had been avoiding since the day you first set foot in the school, which you had always known in the back of your mind despite how you denied it. “I can’t go back at all. I can’t be a sorcerer.”
It was a rare thing to see Satoru Gojo speechless. If it were a lesser occasion, you might have laughed at the way his lips parted and his eyebrows knitted together in such a foreign way.
“Why not?” he said.
“I’m afraid I’ll follow him,” you said. “No, I know I will. If I stay, then I will definitely follow him.”
“You won’t,” Gojo said. “Follow me instead. Follow me if you have to, but you can’t leave. Not you, too.”
Another rarity: Satoru Gojo was afraid. Not of your absence, but of the changes it would bring. With Haibara gone, Suguru vanished, and then you…what would even become of the school? When so many pieces were taken away from it, could it even be considered the same place?
“I can’t end up like that,” you said. “I can’t even risk it. I became a sorcerer because of him; I’ll leave because of him, too. Anyways, you hate when I follow you. You prefer people who can stand on their own two feet. I know that about you now.”
“If you run away, I won’t forgive you for a long time,” he warned me.
“Then don’t,” you said, stepping away, though still facing him. “What good is your forgiveness, anyways? It won’t bring my parents back. It won’t bring Suguru back. I don’t even want you to forgive me, Gojo. I want you to hate me until you die.”
It was the last time you saw him for so long that his memory blurred away at the edges. The way he said your name, the way his hair shone in the sun, the slope of his nose and curve of his neck…once, these were things you might’ve been able to list with a great degree of accuracy. Not anymore, though. Now, if you thought of him at all, it was only that final image of him, framed by the headlights of that still-running car. It was not your name he had called out as you walked away from him, but something bitterer, a promise said with such sincerity it was all but a Binding Vow.
“Ten years,” he had said. “That’s how long I’ll hate you for. Not my entire life. Not until I die. Just for the next ten years.”
Life as an ordinary person was easy. Life without Suguru was harder. But you learned. You learned, through the years, how to stand on your own two feet. You learned how to live with only one shadow instead of two. You learned how to let your eyes adjust to light, gradually instead of all at once, so that it was an easy progression and free of pain.
There were times when you thought you had seen one or the other of the two who you had run from. There, across the street, was it Suguru reading the newspaper? Or in the bakery you walked past on your way to work, was it Gojo who was admiring the displays? They always vanished before you could grow close enough to ascertain their identities, though, remaining ever out of your grasp, existing as nothing more than phantoms in your periphery, refusing to let you forget the past entirely.
The first time you called Gojo was a year after you left the school. You weren’t expecting him to pick up, and when the automated message prompted you to leave a voicemail, you almost hung up in resignation. Something stopped you, though, and despite feeling entirely ridiculous, you cleared your throat.
“Ah, it’s Y/N. But I guess you probably knew that, considering you didn’t pick up. Well, I don’t have anything much to say, but I just wanted to call and make sure you were doing alright. I’m okay. The anniversary of my parents’ deaths is coming up, so I was planning on visiting their graves. I got a new job. Somewhere that I never would’ve expected to work when I was younger. It’s nice. I like my coworkers. They’re nothing compared to you, of course, but they’re fine enough. Anyways. Um. I guess that’s it. I don’t think you’ll call me back, but I just wanted to let you know I’m doing okay.”
It was a routine. Every year, on that day, you’d call him and leave him a voice message. He never once answered — you doubted he listened to the voicemails at all, either — but it soothed you to leave them, to leave one last connection to the world that had taken up so much of your life, and for so long.
More often than not, that time felt like a dream. If it weren’t for the thorned mourner’s bouquets which left pricks in your fingers or the ten calls you had made to Satoru Gojo, you wouldn’t have believed any of it had happened at all. Sorcery, curses, shadows and killers, best friends who betrayed you and boys you ran from, these were all things better suited to storybooks than real life.
Your mother’s favorite flowers had been roses, and you always made sure to bring some with you when you visited your parents’ graves. Roses for her and white chrysanthemums for your father, who had never had a preference for any particular flowers but was so sentimental that he would weep at any blooms being set by his headstone.
The roses were the ones that made the pads of your fingertips bleed, leaving bright red drops the same shade as their petals on the tissues you brought with you. You’d set the bouquet down and wrap your fingers with the tissues, watching as blood seeped through the thin paper, and then, without fail, you’d cry.
“It’s been so long without you,” you said, when enough time had passed that you could not be considered anything but an adult despite feeling like little more than a child. “It’s been so long, and I still don’t know what to do. Mother, father, I am grown now, yet constantly I wish I could ask you for advice. What was that song you’d always hum when I was tired, father? How did you make that tea of yours, mother? When did you know you loved one another? And a million other, sillier things. If I could think of nothing more pressing, I’d ask you about the weather, the time, and your plans for the weekend. I’d bid you a good morning and a good night. I’d complain about the rain and my job. Just as long as it meant I could talk to you again.”
You could not help it. You wept, bloody tissues fluttering to the ground as you ground your fists into your eyes, trying to stem the flow of your tears. Your breath came in quick, short gasps, and you rocked back and forth from your heels to your toes in an attempt to lull yourself into a state of calm. Back and forth. Back and forth. It was the only thing you could do, but it was not enough.
Someone’s hand settled upon your shoulder, and it had been so long since you had felt even a semblance of physical affection that you did not immediately bat them away. Instead, your own hands fell to your sides, your head hanging as you watched the newcomer set a bouquet beside the one you had brought. Orchids and lilies. Lovely, pale things that contrasted sharply with the red of the roses next to them.
“You said in your voicemail that you’d be here at this time. I hope it’s okay that I came.”
It was Satoru Gojo. He no longer wore the sunglasses you remembered him to; instead, a black blindfold was wrapped around his eyes and forehead, causing his pale hair to stick up like he had been shocked. He did not quite smile when he noticed that you were looking at him, but something resembling that expression crossed his face.
“Gojo,” you said. “Why are you—?”
“It’s been long enough,” he said. “You’re a really hard person to hate, Y/N L/N. I did my best, but it was difficult. I hope that you know that.”
“So you’ve come to, what, tell me you forgive me?” you said. “Thanks, but I don’t need it. It’s as I said: your forgiveness means nothing.”
“Nah,” he said, and then he was grabbing your hand and squeezing it tightly. “I’ve come to bring you back to sorcery with me.”
“What?” you said. “No. I quit.”
“You didn’t quit, you ran,” he reminded you.
“That’s the same thing,” you said. He grinned. It was the kind of grin that would’ve blinded you when you were younger, but you found that it was not so brilliant anymore. You found you liked it even more than you once had.
“Not in my books,” he said.
“Gojo, I’m not strong enough. I can lead a normal life without you and Suguru and the others, but if you throw me back into sorcery, I know I’ll cave,” you said. “I’ll turn back into that cowardly little girl I once was. I’ll seek out that shadow which I’ve spent so long learning to exist without.”
He sighed, and then he poked you in the forehead. “Not the case. See, you didn’t even waver this time! I think you finally did it, Y/N. You grew a spine.”
“Why do you want me to come back?” you said. “I’m not strong like you. I won’t give you anything you don’t already have.”
“It’s selfish,” he said. “I don’t want to tell you because it’s selfish, and you’ll laugh at me.”
“If you don’t tell me, then I won’t even consider it,” you said. Though his eyes were covered by the blindfold, you could sense him rolling them based solely on the way he pouted.
“I’ve spent the last ten years hating you for leaving us — for leaving me behind,” he said. “Everyone else was gone. I needed someone, but you left too, and then I really was alone. I want to drag you back into hell because I can’t face it by myself anymore.”
There were things left unsaid in that. Why you, for one? He could have anyone in the world, so why, after ten years, had he come to find you specifically? Why was it now that he could no longer bear the hell that was sorcery alone? But Gojo was not the sort who ever revealed his true self if he could help it, so you supposed those things would have to go unsaid for a little longer.
“Okay,” you said.
“Okay?” he said.
“Okay,” you said. “I’ll come back, but I have a condition.”
“What is it?” he said.
“The next time I leave, or run away, or quit, don’t hate me for quite as long,” you said. “Don’t hate me at all. I know I told you that I want you to hate me until you die, but I don’t anymore.”
“Okay,” he said.
“Okay?” you said, in a direct mirror of your previous exchange.
“Okay,” he said. “Come on, then. Follow me.”
“Oh, that, too,” you said. “I won’t follow you. If that’s what you’re expecting, then you can forget about it. I cannot allow myself to follow anyone ever again. I cannot be that weak, or I’ll become someone I despise. Someone I don’t want to be, ever again.”
His expression morphed into one of shock, and then he did something so odd as to be beyond all rationality and logic. He beamed at you before patting you on the head. It wasn’t condescending; it was the kind of gesture that was like a promise, or a warning, depending on who you asked. Maybe in this case, it was both.
“It’s alright. Actually, it’s better if you don’t,” he said. “I like you more when you don’t follow anyone at all.”
#gojo x reader#gojo x y/n#gojo x you#gojo satoru#jjk x reader#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#reader insert#canon au#m1ckeyb3rry milestone#m1ckeyb3rry writes
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Ciel & Tim Twins AU
So this is the 2nd post for this AU and I wanna add on to the beginning of their story.
When Ciel is first reborn into the DC universe, he is suspicious of his twin brother. He's already had one fuck up his life once and he won't let it happen again. Luckily, this world operates on merit rather than order of birth. Ciel makes himself indispensable to his parents, continually impressing them and overshadowing Tim so that he won't be left behind as a spare again. Then, Ciel starts noticing that Tim is slipping away in the middle of the night. He follows him and finds out he has been taking pictures of Batman and figured out his secret identity. This finally bonds the boys together with their shared secret and Ciel relaxes his guard.
Although they have very different hobbies, they always make time to solve cold cases together for fun. Tim tries sharing his hobbies with Ciel (laughing when Ciel has terrible coordination on a skateboard and keeps busting his knees up) and Ciel shares his occult books with Tim (who doesn't really understand any of it but knows it's probably good knowledge to have). They both play chess together, but Tim is huge into technology while Ciel prefers classic literature. Eventually, Tim starts sparring with Ciel in hopes that exercise will help improve his brother's terrible physical condition. Ciel uses a fencing saber in their duels and practices his marksmanship at the gun range (dragging Tim along even tho "Batman doesn't like guns").
When their parents die, Ciel transforms Drake Industries into Funtom Toy Company once again. He donates to many children's charities and becomes as big a philanthropist name as Bruce Wayne with his success. Because Ciel knows Bruce is Batman, he knows Brucie is a persona and uses his own sweet persona (like from Weston Arc) to snipe at each other where nobody else but people who know them well can tell.
Post-Red Hood, Tim is kidnapped by the Joker. Ciel finds him and shoots him. Ciel was already a strange figure to the rest of the Wayne household, always distant with everyone except his brother, but now they start considering him a rogue-in-the-making. Tim is adamant that his brother was only trying to protect him and Jason is just glad the clown is gone, no matter if the kid who did it is a bit sadistic. Damian has always been a bit wary of Ciel, even if he always reasoned he's just the weak version of Drake.
#kuroshitsuji#black butler#o!ciel#ciel phantomhive#batfam#batman#tim drake#crossover#fic ideas#fic prompt#writing prompt#ao3
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Ok hear me out, what if the yv listeners were single parents? Man, can you image the drama and more fluffy family time!!🥺
Holy shit thats a kid-
Bc there's so many listeners I'm doing Sugarboo, Casper, and Sunflower. If you want a pt2 just ask!
100% made Seth think Alphonse moved on quickly bc he got someone pregnant.
Sugarboo
When Seth first showed up he didn't know and it hurt even more. But when him and Boo met up at the woods they cleared it up.
"I'm going to tell you this once. Alphonse loves you, but I have a kid to protect and ill fuck you up if you do something."
Seth nodded along didn't really know what to say since yeah what parent wouldn't want to protect their kid?
Alphonse is the fun parent to the kid. But will make sure they brush their teeth! After giving them a couple of treats from the shop first tho!
The kid who ima nickname Bun is a really loving kid. Like they saw Seth and was like your cool! And asked a thousand questions at once.
The breakfast was more awkward, bc Bun never say Al yell before and it kinda made then sad. Bc everyone else was getting sad then started crying.
This made Boo snap at Al, Seth too bc he didn't want the kid to listen to all this. So after making up Alphonse apologized to Boo and Bun.
When Seth came back Bun cried seeing him hurt and lied next to him. They dragged him everywhere when he was getting use to being with Boo and Al.
The pillow fort ep was even more sweet bc Bun showed the trio a lil drawing they made. Seth damn near cried.
But oh loorrd the one where Jessie's hair was gifted to Seth? That made it thousands times worse bc the note even hinted at Bun. Seth felt even more ashamed of himself bc he put a kid in danger.
The want of Boo staying in town was even more now bc of Bun. But Boo knew they needed to be there and was stubborn about it.
We can say that Bun stayed in town with some old lady Boo trusted but...who would want their kid away from them?
The car ride there was even more tense when everyone said they're in it. Bun hugged the trio to try and make everyone feel better.
Bun and Boo stayed in the car with Bun being hidden well so if something happens Boo can hide them. Charlie saw the end of the barrel when looking at Boo.
When meeting Jessie Bun tried eating a cookie and did a lil kid cough. Then whined about not getting anything to eat, so Boo whipped something up rq.
Bun was there hugging Seth when he cried. People forget kids are emotionally intelligent sometimes so when Bun figured out Jessie made Bun's favorite uncle/dad figure? They sticker their young out and blew a raspberry.
Charlie being in the room to talk to them was more tense bc Boo was ready to grab him. Even standing in front of the bed glaring hard at him.
Boo's decision going with Derek was even more drastically more needed. Bc he said something about "such a cute lil kid ya got there. Sugar." Boo almost shot him right there.
Everyone was desperate and distraught when Boo left. Bun was crying and Alphonse was trying to calm them. Bun stayed with Jessie and the boys left.
Boo pointing the gun was leaning a bit more twords a parent needing to protect their kids. Also when Al sees Finn he tells the blonde he better make everything right bc he has a kid to protect.
I can see so many cute thing sharpening with Bun and the boys. Seth and Alphonse spoil them so Boo gotta be the bad cop between them all.
Seth shows Bun how to hike and make things he learned when younger. Even telling him stories too!
Alphonse loves having his lil candy taste tester around. He also helps sneak some baked goods to them if Boo let's Al have some.
Casper
Them having a kid would actually break Charlie. Bc he lost his chance of course they found someone that loved them and gave them a kid.
But blah blah other parent gone so when Charlie does meet the lil ghoul their eyes sparkle asking about his skateboard and his hat.
Charlie kinda has a hard time connecting with he kid. Since he did sell shit to kids when younger.
"Charlie, it's okay. I trust you with ghoul. Your my friend stupid."
Charlie smiled at the words and did try to connect with the kid. He actually really connected with them bc he's a kid at heart.
The sleepover ep was different when Casper slashed Charlie's tires bc ghoul cheered when they did.
Also with truth and dare they played a kiddy version with ghoul before they knocked out. Then the confession happened.
The mall date was cute bc everyone thought they were a small family and ghoul just said how his parents were cool bc they rode skateboards.
With dancing at the abandon school ghoul had a babysitter at the house. Casper and ghoul tried to convince Chalrie to stay but he left </3 but then returned with another child! A fur baby :o
Ghoul loves lil guy and helps take care of them. They are basically siblings even fighting over a pizza slice once. Since the eye was hurt on lil guy ghoul gave them one of their pirate eye patches.
Sweet Pete loves the kid and makes sure to give them a pizza when they come over. Off of Charlie's pay check of course.
Going to the skate part is a MUST with this lil family. Ghoul learns trucks that Casper and Charlie did when younger. It's so cute when they got so excited when they landed their first kick flip!
If Charlie ever does introduce the kid and Casper (again) to his parents they love the two. His mom spoils the kid and his dad bonds a but with them.
Charlie really wants to better himself even more with Casper and ghoul bc he wants to be someone their gonna be proud of.
Sunflower
When first going into Talk Floral Finn was suprised seeing the lil hands of seed touching the counter showing off some change to get a lil rose for their parent.
Seed loves Finn's rambling and saw him staring at their parent and giggled.
When coming back again Seed asks if they can learn more from him. Which gives Sunflower the opportunity to ask as well.
So Seed and Sunflower get to have classes and stuff. Finn really connects with the kid even calling them seedling jokenly. But it really stuck with them.
When they went to the cafe and the drink spilled Sunflower made sure nothing got on Seed. Finn was panicking and almost cried but got embarrassed like in the og bc he was wiping too close to Sunflowers personal space.
Sadly Seed wasn't there when Sunflower asked him out but demanded to be om the date.
But we know Finn got distracted and such so Seed gave him a glare when coming in. But apologized when Sunflower noticed it and scolded them.
With the Yule ep all three made lists of snow angels and snowmen! Seed was cozy in a big thick coat while being on their parents lap listening to Finn. They even fell asleep first.
Seed prefers to be om their parents back when sleeping so during the cuddling ep Seed agreed with Finn saying that their parent should stay. They fell asleep again and when they woke up they were babysat by Finn.
Seed goes to parks a lot so they get flowers to Finn. Like those ones you see all the time and says it's to add to his collection. Finn keeps them all, even pressing them so he can put them on a bookmark.
Finn is clumsy but makes sure the kid is safe at all times. Like he tried to carry them once and fell but made sure to lean as hard as he can to protect them.
Finn is the best at calming Seed down and getting them to say what they want. It's okay use your big words Seedling. And Seed tells him what they need or what happened.
Finn also kinda feels like he's not the best example for a kid but Sunflower shuts that down saying how he handles Seed perfectly bc even Sunflower had to admit that their a hand full sometimes.
#red rants#yuurivoice#yuurivoice alphonse#yuurivoice seth#yuurivoice charlie#yuurivoice finn#red answers#red writes#single parent reader
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Lost & Found
hiiiii everyone! this is my third entry for @threadbaresweater's "summertime (and the livin' is easy)" collab event! the prompt i chose for this one was shoko + selkies. everyone say thank you to cal ( @dr-runs-with-scissors ) for the idea & for looking it over before i posted it. i hope you enjoy!
also please note this fic takes place in scotland, but shoko still very much looks japanese. i would never whitewash her.
read on ao3 | wc: ~1.9k | cw: gender neutral reader, brief mentions/consumption of alcohol, shoko is a selkie but reader doesn't know that
You don’t remember how old you were the first time your mother told you about the spirits and beings that filled the world, just out of sight from humanity, but you felt as if you’d known about them from the moment you’d taken your first breath. Regardless, you’d always kept a watchful eye out, hoping to catch a glimpse of something – anything – from the stories you grew up hearing.
As the years went on and you grew older, everyone around you seemed to stop believing that any of those stories were more than fairytales and legends, based in fantasy rather than reality, but not you; you were stubborn, and you held steady in the belief that at least some of those stories had to hold some grain of truth. You were vocal about it, too, until you’d nearly come to blows with another student over whether any of those “baby stories” were real when you were about twelve. After that you learned to keep your thoughts to yourself, lest they land you in trouble again.
Even in your silence, you remained hopeful; hopeful the stories really were true, and hopeful one day you’d have proof, even if it was only proof to you. You never stopped searching for a glimpse or a sign from any of the beings from your stories, no matter how much time passed. Over the years, you stopped seeking them out as much, and you ceased your searching entirely when it came time for you to start your university education. Even still, you looked for things out of the corner of your eye anytime you were outside the city.
Your years at university came and went, still without spotting anything: no sightings of kelpies splashing in the water; no Fair Folk, though you were sure you’d spotted plenty of fairy rings over the years; no distant wailing or shrieking of banshees – though that was probably a good thing; not even a glimpse of the Loch Ness monster when you and your friends had gone up for a weekend trip. What you were most disappointed in not having seen any sign of yet were the selkies; the tales of the seal folk had always been your favorites growing up, and you wanted to see one of them in the flesh more than anything. The stories never left your mind or your heart, though, and you were always more aware of things that seemed a little different than anyone else you knew.
Which is probably why she stood out to you as much as she did that night at the pub.
She was beautiful – stunning, really. Brown hair flowing over shoulders, the skin beneath her eyes washed in purple, as if she hadn’t slept well a single day in the last year, the way she moved across the building to the bar to order a drink, slipping and gliding through people with an ease and grace you were a bit envious of.
“Just go talk to her.”
The sound of your friend’s voice almost startled you, and you turned to face her a bit sheepishly. “Talk to who?” you asked, trying to play dumb and hoping she’d go along with it.
She rolled her eyes, then indicated the woman you’d been staring at with a tilt of her head. “Her, obviously. You’ve been staring, it’ll be better for you if you go up and talk to her before she catches you staring and thinks you’re a weirdo.” Her words were light, and she was clearly teasing you, but you knew she was genuinely trying to encourage you; in all the years she’d known you, you’d never had a relationship that lasted more than a few weeks, and all of them left you feeling dejected and convinced love wasn’t real.
“I dunno. I mean, she’s gorgeous, obviously, but I don’t know if—” The rest of the sentence died in your throat when you looked across the pub at the woman again and found her already staring at him, her expression unreadable from this distance.
“Busted,” your friend teased, then bumped your foot lightly with her own. “Go on, you don’t have an excuse now. She knows you were looking at her.”
With a small groan, you downed the last sip of your drink, then stood from the booth and carefully picked your way across the pub to join the woman who had caught your attention.
Once you were closer, you noticed a few more things about her: she had a small beauty mark on her cheek, under her right eye; despite the bags under her eyes, her gaze was warm as she looked you over; and her expression, unreadable from across the pub, you could now tell was a little guarded, but curious. She was even more stunning up close, with striking features and a mysterious air about her.
“Well?” she asked, once you’d gotten close enough to hear her over the din of the other patrons. “I hope you have a good reason for staring at me from all the way over there.”
You felt your face begin to burn, worried that you’d let yourself get drawn into a confrontation, rather than a conversation. “O-oh, I, uh, I just… I haven’t seen you here before, and you’re really pretty and—”
Her soft chuckles cut you off mid-ramble, and you only felt more embarrassed. Before you could turn and walk away and attempt to salvage your dignity, though, she reached out and placed a hand on your arm.
“I’m sorry,” she said, still chuckling softly as she smiled at you. “I’m not making fun of you, I promise. People just usually aren’t so nervous to talk to me. It’s cute.”
She seemed genuine enough, but a bit of your embarrassment still lingered. “If I don’t run away with my tail between my legs, will you tell me your name?”
There was a glint in her eye when she answered you. “I’m Shoko.”
Her accent was a little more pronounced when she said her name, and it made you smile; made you want to listen to her talk forever, too. Remembering your manners, you introduced yourself.
“Would it be odd if I offered to buy you a drink now?”
Shoko tilted her head a bit, looking you up and down for a moment before she spoke. “Only if you’ll get one for yourself, too.”
And so you did.
Conversation came much easier than you expected, the two of you talking about a little bit of everything. There were some topics she danced around when you asked about them, but you didn’t push any of them; she was probably just looking out for her own safety, and you couldn’t fault her for that.
You learned that you were half right when you’d assumed she wasn’t from the area, but the only detail she was willing to offer was that she lived “on the coast,” which felt very fancy to you, for some reason. She told you she didn’t get out much, that she tended to stay closer to home, which intrigued you.
“Anything special about tonight?” you asked, only half joking.
She shrugged, smiling at you over the rim of her glass as she sipped her drink. “Something in the water,” she said. “The weather’s warm, and I figured tonight was as good a night as any to shake up my routine a bit.”
“Fair enough,” you chuckled, taking a sip from your own drink. Before you could say anything else, though, Shoko glanced down at her watch and, despite her already fair complexion, visibly paled.
“Oh my god, I’ve got to go,” she said, a bit frantically, though you couldn’t tell if she was talking to you or just to herself. “I’ve got to go, I can’t be late.”
Before you could question her cryptic words, even just to ask if she was already, Shoko was rushing for the door, her movements still graceful and fluid in a way that almost didn’t feel human. You watched with a frown, then glanced at the seat she had just been occupying; there was a coat draped across the back of it – a rather nice coat, actually, a deep brown that looked like some sort of high quality leather – and you realized it must be hers, despite the warm weather outside.
After checking with the people around where you’d been sitting with Shoko to make sure the coat didn’t belong to any of them, you dropped a couple bills on the bar to cover your tab and grabbed the coat; she’d only just left, maybe you could still catch her.
Your exit wasn’t nearly as slick as Shoko’s had been, and you apologized as you pushed through a few patrons on your way to the door. Once you were outside, you looked around, just barely catching a glimpse of Shoko as she rounded the corner of the building.
“Shoko!” you called, hurrying after her; you weren’t sure why, exactly, returning the coat to her felt so urgent, but it did. “Shoko, wait, you forgot your coat!”
The brunette stopped dead in her tracks when she heard your words, and she whirled around to look at you, wide-eyed. “You found my coat?”
“Yeah, you left it on your seat,” you confirmed, stopping once you reached her. “It looks expensive, and I can tell you wear it a lot from how broken in the material is. Didn’t want to risk someone else snatching it.”
You extended the coat to her, but all she did was stare at it for a moment. Eventually, she blinked, as if coming out of a trance, and she gingerly accepted the coat from you.
“Thank you,” she said, meeting your gaze again. “You have no idea how important this is to me. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I’d gotten home without it.”
“Not a problem,” you assured her. “I don’t want to keep you, though, I know you were in a rush to leave. Stay safe, yeah? I’ll see you around.”
“Yeah,” she agreed, offering you a slight smile as she turned away. “See you around.”
A few days later, you decided to take a walk to the beach. It had only gotten warmer since you’d met Shoko at the pub, and though you hadn’t seen her around again yet, you were still hopeful you would.
It didn’t take too terribly long to reach the beach once you left home, though you kept walking until you found a more secluded spot to sit and enjoy the view for a bit; you weren’t dressed to get in the water, but you knew a bit of sunshine and fresh, if salty, air would do you good.
You stopped when you found a spot that seemed comfortable enough and was mostly shaded, and settled down with a soft sigh. Your gaze wandered over the waves as you sat there, but what you saw when your eyes reached the shore again surprised you a bit.
Pushing up your sunglasses, you squinted a bit as you looked ahead, wondering if you were seeing correctly. There was a small pod of seals about ten meters from you, and while most of them were a familiar grey color, one stood out from the rest; it was hidden in the middle of the group, but when it lifted its head you knew your eyes were not deceiving you.
In the middle of the pod was a seal that was a distinct dark brown color. It seemed to stare right at you for a moment, and though at your current distance you couldn’t be sure, you could have sworn it winked at you before making its way back into the water.
the end of this is intentionally ambiguous in case i ever want to come back to it! i think it's a fun idea and has a lot of potential for more later, but. for now i'm happy with it like this!
taglist: @mitsuristoleme @sugurei @peachdues @ghost-1-y @witchbybirth
@marinnnnnnnnn @dr-runs-with-scissors @enchantedforest-network @benkeibear @threadbaresweater
dividers by @/benkeibear & @/cafekitsune
#fallon's fics#ieiri shoko#shoko x reader#shoko ieiri#shoko#jjk shoko#shoko jjk#jjk ieiri#ieiri shoko x reader#jjk fanfic#jjk fanfiction#jjk au#jjk x reader
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I know a few people headcanon the cyan and orange souls traveling together but that dosen't seem to be the case with your au. So does that mean Lila was trapped alone in the void for however long it took tom to show up? That must have been a terrible experience to endure, even if it was less than a year before Tom's capture. I'm guessing Asgore and the other monsters weren't aware that disembodied souls were conscious. How did they react when they found out?
Yeah, each child went underground on their own. Lila was alone in the limbo void until Tom came along. That was like only 2 months. But it wasn't easy for a 7 YEAR OLD being alone in a dark void after being thrust by a trident. Lila is actually the youngest one to die; everyone else was in double digits.
And you are correct. Asgore and the others weren't aware that the souls were conscious. In their defense, the guy who knew a lot about souls got erased from existence.
And about the reactions... Well Toriel was the one that gave the biggest reaction.
But the others had less of a reaction because the children admit that time in limbo passes faster than in the real world. For Lila it been barely two year since she die. They only told them after Toriel beat up Asgore for a bit.
#undertale#ut#ut asgore#ut toriel#light blue soul#patience soul#bravery soul#undertale yellow#uty second chance au#ask
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dottie my dear friend dottie i need that kikura essay
My dearest friend Ari you probably know all of this already FDSFDSFJLSD
Classmates. Maybe less.
I think the relationship between Uotora and Beika is "I know you better than anybody". And i think between Kikura and Beika is "I understand you better than anybody", despite how different they are, and how far they've come together, because they did not like each other AT ALL at first.
I think of them as being foils to Ichiya, and having a reversal of his character arc. Despite being Splatlandian, Kikura grew up in Inkopolis but their family had to move back to Splatlands when their fortune took a turn for the worse, which Kikura... disliked. Kikura , kinda spurred by how their family thought of Splatsville, thought themselves better than everyone in Splatsville through the virtue of being raised in Inkopolis and made this very well known to anyone.
I think they are quite the formidable fighter now, but back then their attitude got them bullied a lot. I especially headcanon people used to pull their hair to piss them off, which they could do nothing about since their mother wanted their hair to stay long, no matter how much they wanted to cut it. Speaking of parents, I think they had very controlling and over-perfecting tiger parents that to a degree meant well but overall restricted Kikura. They thought through their smarts (which i headcanon them to be, quite so) they could make it back to Inkopolis and (bring their family with them as a duitful child and) never have to think about Splatsville ever again. With all this stress and discontentment, their form escapism from Splatsville and their parents was... That one demo from that Inkopolis band that got leaked on the internet.
So Kikura's "shit" taste got someone specific's attention, and Beika told as much to their face that she thought their taste was shit, and reccomended some better stuff.
More under the read more bc you'll never guess, this got long
They didn't get along at ALL. Beika was kind of the person Kikura could not stand, satisfied with everything Splatsville could give her without wanting more (as far as they knew). And yet, because there seemed to be no true malice, mostly snark and sarcasm that Beika matched Kikura in energy, they. Talked. Mostly because there was no one else who would talk to them.
They were asshole kids angry at the world in their own way, but Beika seemed to be especially able to get under Kikura's skin.
"Does your parents know you are listening to -agasp- Rock Music?? Or is it your way of rebelling?" (They did not. Yes, it was.)
"Do you only do things your parents tell you to do" (Pretty much.)
"Will you ever do anything for yourself?"
And with how competitive and how much of a perfectionist Kikura was, i think they found themselves wanting to somehow impress this inkling and prove her wrong.
I think Kikura used to basically dream about doing somethign crazy like, learning the guitar, and the guitarist from that SQSQ being also self-taught gave them... hope? It's not quite hope but like, it felt like if they went out of their way, they could actually do it. WELL, if they didn't fear their parents' anger and dissapointment.
Well now they found pettiness in their heart, so they got themselves a guitar as soon as possible, in secret. The unbridled joy and terror they felt, the adrenaline rush kept them practicing more and more until Uotora learnt about them, and forced Beika to accept letting Kikura into the band and play.
Bit by bit, Beika (and Uotora who is an angle but also at times a pushover) got Kikura to rebel in small other ways till they were able to cut their hair.
As their love for the band grew, they came to appreciate the town that made them who they were. I think in their current state they are rather embarrased of the little shit they used to be. They started to wanting to stay and make Splatsville a better place.
I think Kikura realized Beika was hurting due to... Something, that she didn't talk about and Uotora glazed over. Something in the shape of Beika's ex guitarist hanged in the air. As the trust grew between them, Beika bit by bit told the story of how she was left behind and learnt to not want much from life, that thing Kiki hated about her. She and Uotora painted the picture of a selfish person Kiku came to hate for hurting their only true friends. (Uotora might have even exaggrated a bit) But I think they realized the full scale of everything when they heard the song C-side was playing on the radio. Things made a lot more sense then.
They made it their duty to become the best guitarist that there is. They had the ambition, they knew how to study and practice. And as it turns out, biggest idiots in town taught themselves how to play the guitar, so it shouldn't be too hard.
I think them leaving for a while was Beika getting it into her head that Kikura would leave too, and pushing Kiku away until Kiku was basically made to leave. I think it was a nasty fight they didn't thought they would recover from, but they easily did with how much the two cared for each other. (This isn't like a full-fledged idea, perhaps i can talk about it another day uwu) With the confirmation one way or another, Kiku would always end up coming back, Beika loved them as freely as can be.
In some way Beika and Kikura gave each other the means of saving themselves, in a way saving each other. So, yeah. owo.
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I'm the anon who asked for the Taiga lines, thank you so much for sharing!
I did not have much thoughts on Taiga before, other than him being surprisingly chill despite being a lil freaky but omg seeing his max affinity line along with his line on the ditched future.... the angst is unmatched.
You're stuck with him till death do us part? Whether you like it or not? Especially in a time loop situation, imagine that either of them have a high likelihood of dying within the year. One or both of them have tried to fix it, to no avail. Maybe they were a thing in one of the loops but only Taiga (vaguely) remembers it and that would make the max affinity line extra bittersweet because he's only succeeded at freaking out MC in the current timeline lol.
Maybe Taiga was invested in saving (everyone? himself? mc?) before but no matter what he does nothing changes? iirc he was an exemplary student going on a ton of missions to find anomalies, maybe he thought one of the random anomalies out there had something to do with their situation? But at some point between then and now he stopped giving a shit.
Also I find it interesting how the ghouls are constantly destroying anomalies instead of capturing them. It could be that they just don't give 2 fucks but also can't help but wonder if maybe the older ghouls have some kinda truce like don't bring back any anomalies if you can help it, nothing good can happen by giving the academy/institute more info on these things (bc at the very least Leo in the prologue implies the people up top are responsible for whatever messed up situation they were in, and he's the most likely person to uncover a conspiracy with his skillset + Jin and Tohma want to dethrone his dad as director or whatever his position was, possibly also found out smth behind the scenes)
It's all just speculation but god they are so good a pulling me around by the nose with this mystery when I had 0 expectations of this game (I mean, it still kinda sucks gameplay-wise but the story is so good)
Can't wait for new chapter soon, tho rn I am in gacha hell with wuwa, 18trip and gakuenmas.......
Thank you for being patient about them! I love Taiga so much hahaha
Yeah, the potential is there for this to be something big and for Taiga to be heavily involved in it, or at least the person who's most aware of it so far(Jin's "i know this won't last forever" line also kind of carries the implication that he knows but that has many other explanations.) It would probably be more angst-heavy if his memory weren't garbage lmaooooo THEN AGAIN maybe he'll remember you forever now that he loves you as much as he does haha. He definitely didn't remember you before this, or he didn't show any sign of remembering, so if he knew you in another timeline or you were together in another timeline i suspect he forgot, just like with everything.
As for dying, the PC is going to die within the next year if their curse isn't lifted and the prologue shows that someone else dies in the destruction of the school with the pc still alive(so either before the year is up or after the curse is lifted). So they both definitely have the potential to die in that period of time, if nothing is done to change the future. . ."if death do us part" is something Taiga very well might know will happen eventually. In fact, if his stigma actually does allow him to see the future like I'm beginning to suspect, he might know that that's what going to happen. I mean everybody dies eventually but I mean outside of a natural death.
From what Hyde says(I checked both Japanese and English) Taiga used to play more of an active part in the past, so yeah it seems like he's lost some of his enthusiasm. . .although it's very likely he's referring to that Sinostra's on probation and he can't go on missions at all right now, considering just a few months prior he was on a mission and seemed plenty enthusiastic. But as far as operating as captain goes(he's only been captain for around 6 months as of the start of the Sinostra chapter) it seems like he doesn't put any effort in. . .according to Romeo he only cares about anomalies and gambling, but if that were true he wouldn't care to tell you about the spy because he wouldn't even know. (Romeo also says he doesn't go after humans anymore which is. . .not true, so Romeo may just be blissfully unaware since their relationship is so bad these days.)
It'd make sense if this lack of enthusiasm arose from seeing an unfavorable future and thinking it isn't worth it to try at this point. He does say he's been telling someone(likely Romeo) that things will fall apart if they keep going the way they have been but since that person's been uncooperative with making changes he doesn't see a way things will change. . . .so why should he put in work? I assume he can see the future, not travel through it--hence 'ditch this future' he's simply refusing to play any part in impacting it. Even when he jumps from the ledge in the prologue if you choose to save him, he asks what he could have done to change things. I wonder how long he's been trying.
he doesn't even talk the same was he normally does, so you know it's kinda serious. He would love to know how to prevent this.
As for ghouls destroying anomalies, I think it's a matter of safety in the situation as well as a general lack of powers that can actually capture the anomalies. Most of them have weapons with destructive powers and stigmas that are destructive. But in almost every case capture wasn't much of an option due to safety concerns.
Frostheim had human children present. Jin's stigma only seems to work for a few minutes at best even with the PC buffing him. They didn't have a means to keep the anomaly contained and keep the children safe, not to mention the last living one was about to kill the PC and one of the kids. Like Kaito said, in a situation dealing with monsters it's hard to think to incapacitate and capture them, especially when someone else's life is at stake. To ensure their survival and minimize damage to civilians, the anomalies needed to be killed.
Vagastrom's anomaly was a tulpa and couldn't be captured in the first place. If people kept believing in it it would just reappear elsewhere. People no longer believing in it took it out of existence. No room at all for containment.
Jabberwock. . .well, they know Towa's unstable. Princess Oto severely injured Haru, and Towa wasn't going to let it get away with that. The Kraken and Calamari were allowed to escape because capturing them would do more harm to the ecosystem than good.
Sinostra had to destroy it theirs to prevent the destruction of the casino and prevent harm coming to the general students, Romeo, and the PC. Also Taiga's just a killing machine so--
Hotarubi. . .I kind of think I know what happens with them thanks to spoilers and one of Subaru's voicelines, but I won't spoil it.
If Obscuary doesn't accidentally kill their anomaly because it touches Rui I will be disappointed /joke
I feel like Mortkranken are going to successfully capture their anomaly simply because Yuri wants to run experiments on it. but it does depend on what their Stigmas are. We know that Jiro's chainsaw doesn't actually cut very well(Yuri told him to get them a Christmas tree and he said that his weapon doesn't cut stuff very well) and we also know that Jiro does all of the fighting in Mortkranken, whereas Yuri is ineffective in combat. They have the highest chance of capturing anomalies I think.
so like. I think that ultimately in those situations it was kind of the safest option for everyone present, killing the anomalies. Cornelius acts like 'just capture the anomalies it's easy!' but these are life or death situations. There were so many in Frostheim's case that they had to collapse a building to reduce the risk of them getting back out to the public. On the other hand, Jin probably could have teleported at least one of them back to Darkwick before they collapsed the building or instead of them killing one, but in the heat of the moment that probably doesn't occur to him as an option--also he probably wanted to make sure the pc was okay since he'd never be able to use his stigma again if she died, so going back in there to pull one of them out wasn't going to happen. Also he may or may not be rebelling against his dad, president of the Japanese branch of the Institution.
So I doubt it's something like an agreement between the third-years. I feel like it's just coincidence.
As for what Leo says in the pre-prologue, by then he would definitely be in on the situation simply because he's paying more attention than others and Alan is about as subtle as a firework no matter how hard Tohma tries to keep things secret. But maybe he gets roped in instead, since his power would be beneficial--they just have to make sure they can trust him first. . . . He does say that someone is responsible, but I think he means that regarding that life sucks, not the catastrophe occurring? Although that very well might be referring to the people at the top of the Institute too. . .on the other hand I would assume it's referring to whoever the spy is working with, and the Institute themselves aren't bad people(although Jin's dad sounds kinda like a piece of shit.) That or the Institute is the problem, or the prophecy somehow. . .if I could see the Japanese text I could see if there's a difference lol. . . .
Jin is going to inherit the position of president I'm pretty sure. I don't think that's a matter of usurping or anything like that where "Jin becomes the new president" is like, they take down Jin's father first. Like I'm pretty sure this is a familial inheritance thing--I feel like it's a "you're the eldest son so you're expected to take on the position of running the company" deal. You see it all the time in manga with office/business settings. Even Haku is supposed to take over the shrine his family owns. I don't think Jin and Tohma are dethroning Jin's father, it's just a matter of 'we need to prepare you to be in power here, you need to learn to be responsible and better than your father so you can do better than he does.'
BUT. YEAH. A LOT OF THEORIZING AND STUFF but I'm definitely surprised by how into it I ended up getting haha. My hyperfocus said "yeah I fuck with this" and now I'm stuck here. I don't really remember the abandoned concept they originally had(afair I was more unique than the current one, which is trying to stay in line with what's popular with the industry right now) but I really still would've loved to see it. . .but I'm still enjoying the current result and looking forward to the new chapters. (One week away for Hotarubi!!! Home stretch, just gotta survive one more week of work!) I feel like it's much less of a mystery as more. . .slowly growing suspense haha like it feels like a mystery because of the investigation we do as fandom, but the story itself is gonna reveal everything eventually. . .probably. So it's just anticipation on our parts hahaha. (And yeah the gameplay elements are uh nonexistent haha. Pretty sure the only reason I'm able to keep up with the chapters is because I spent money. 🙃)
Good luck with your other gacha games tho!! Fortunately the only other gachas I play I've got pretty good units for so I'm not so worried about what pulls I do or don't get. . . . I hope all of your future pulls are what you need them to be!!!
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A butterfly and a hug
Kinger x fem!circus member
warning : a little emotional, hug/cuddle, imagining things
Summary : Kinger the longest here and the craziest so it was said at least among the members but even if. His devotion to his insects is admirable…but real? A fact that nobody really liked but from the latest adventure she had brought a butterfly to give to Kinger, maybe you will finally get to see his insect collection
Info : Ahhh finally, finally, finally I'm writing for Kinger or the circus is still to come, stay tuned and have fun reading ;)
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The shouts of the puppet inhabitants of the Candy Canyon Kingdom could still be heard but everyone could hear the cheers slowly turning into horrible screams. All because of Jax who couldn't resist causing chaos and havoc but that's how he was or at least that's how she knew the purple bunny.
At the thought of what the liquid monster was doing to the inhabitants, the winding key in her back involuntarily spun faster. It's just an adventure…a simulation, she reminded herself as she arrived back on the other side of the circus tent.
She saw that the others seemed relatively okay with it though and were happy to be back and she gave Gangle a smile which the white mask returned at least a little. She had talked to Gangle a bit on the way back after talking to her about anime drawings she had seen.
The mask with the ribbon body was a good drawer and was embarrassed yet proud that someone was interested. But the others also gave each other relieved and somehow reassuring looks.
Pomni gave her a slight wave, they were both among the newest and even though Pomni was only a week behind her, it hardly seemed to make a difference. How was it even a week? They had no sense of time but they had to tell themselves.
Before her eyes fell on Kinger, the chess king, who seemed to be somewhere else again and whose mind was God knows where, she didn't want to shame him for it.
You probably had to create your own little world in this thing to keep from going crazy when he…well, he was somehow and somehow he wasn't. More like a conqueror of his own little kingdom, she thought with a grin and paid attention to the scene that was unfolding with Pomni and the crocodile from the kingdom.
But this crocodile an NPC with a background? But her skepticism and hope for a new member faded as quickly as it had come when all that was left was confetti and Pomni standing beside her.
A fact that hung on all of us: Cain did not have power over us, but he could destroy and create our world here. He was like a god, a god with limitations, and perhaps the scarier thing was his nature.
But no matter what happened, after the mourning party was held not only for Kaufmo but also for Guumigoo, she heard the stories of the others and knew that it was a good idea to get closer to the others and maybe take the butterfly with her that was in her room in a little candy cage.
The images, the emotions and even the laughter of what was happening was heartwarming and even Kinger, who was having a clear moment again, seemed to be aware of the situation.
A fact she took advantage of after the party, after placing a plastic flower on the crate and walking with the others towards the slack hall, she waited for some time. Still feeling the inner turmoil about this whole thing her "room" which was a mix of a bed made of building blocks and winding keys on the wall.
It was a strange feeling to somehow be here and still keep her wits about her, but in the end she and the others had a choice? Was there an end? Did it make sense? Questions that made her anxious, questions that led to something worse as she gripped the monkey tighter in her hands…maybe it wasn't all bad.
She got along pretty well with almost everyone, even the asshole Jax, with whom she occasionally joked around before he tripped her up or threw something at her, even if it was just her winding keys. But most of all she had a thing for Kinger the giant chess piece, the crazy one, the cute one, the king or someone she felt a little bit drawn to. She questioned whether these feelings were real, but it was at least a feeling that was better than hopefulness, so why not give it a try?
A gift that he would surely like. Rising from her bed with renewed courage and walking out of the halls, she found herself back in the main hall after a few moments of wandering around, and after some tired wandering around of giant blocks, shapes and other objects, she found the impenetrable fortress as Kinger called it.
A small castle made of pillows where he stayed to either be alone or to protect himself from the outside world, according to him. ,,Kinger? Are you in there?" she asked , tapping the pillows as she felt a little light-headed, but why not join in. It took a moment for Kinger to carefully move a pillow aside when she saw that he either had no idea who she was or didn't know what to do.
,,Hi me-" she began, raising a hand only to be interrupted by him pushing his pillow back into place, ,,Password," he demanded, which only made her more confused. A password so clear and yet unclear. Of course he wants one she thought and shook her head, either she was lucky and he forgot it himself or he was insisting on something that didn't exist.
For a moment, she thought about all the combinations of all the chess moves and was about to take the pillow away again when she paused and looked at the scatter in the cage. ,,Butterfly," she said, staring at the pillow, hoping it was right, when the king suddenly poked his head out of the fortress, ,,What are you doing here?" she asked, pulling her into his little pillow castle where he was kneeling.
Smirking and rolling her eyes at his quick change, she made herself as comfortable as she could and saw that Kinger was apparently busy with something or rather talking to something in one hand. ..Is this one of your insects?" she asked, pointing her doll-like hand at his, could feel the soft fabric of his glove under her wooden fingers and saw that he was turning towards her.
,,One of my favorites, a ladybug, small and cute," he said and she saw in his blue eyes, next to the bloodshot veins, joy that he could talk to her about it.
Before he moved closer, she leaned forward slightly to look into his hand and saw a small beetle made of wood. ,,Well… it's really cute, the dots are pretty," she said quickly and even though she could almost imagine that he saw things his way, she had to admit that the idea that he had a whole display of cute little insects made of wood was cute.
He nodded as best he could and suddenly clasped her hand, ,,Here, watch Lisa, I'll show you the others," he said and turned away, looking under pillows and other stuff for other animals from his collection.
Holding the little beetle in her hand, she listened to the other names and phrases of the big one, who could barely get in and despite everything, she had never seen him so happy.
The way his eyes lit up, the joyful way he moved back and forth to reach for the insects and his surprised expression of curiosity when she handed him the cage, ,,I knew you liked the butterfly rings, I thought it was for the collection," she confessed and looked away a little ashamed not only to have interrupted him but also to have been so directly surprised.
He dropped his "insect" and concentrated solely on the cage in his hands before he opened it and took the pink sugar butterfly, which began to fly around in the bow. ,,That's beautiful…thank you dear," the older man said and before she knew what was happening she felt his hands on her shoulders and a soft cloak as he wrapped her in a hug.
A heartfelt hug, a hug full of thanks and a hug that made her so happy that it made him feel good. He slowly disengaged and his attention turned to his latest possession, which flew back and forth between them.
She smiled at Kinger glad that he was so happy and yet the hand still detached itself from her shoulder on the contrary the longer he counted, the more time passed and the more exhausted she became she eventually closed her eyes for just a moment he sat down next to her to serve as a backrest while a soft warm cloak wrapped itself a little around her, ,,Good night little butterfly" he said blue-eyed before his mind focused back on the sugar insect fluttering around him. A sign of her devotion and a sign that he was far from losing his mind completely.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
#the amazing digital circus#tadc#tadc kinger#tadc kinger x reader#the amazing digital circus kinger#kinger#kinger x reader
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having a tav that's a Lloth-sworn life domain cleric of a noble background who before getting yeeted into the nautiloid was a sacrificial priestess (gn) during one of the cycles of Drow society and had their own altar and temple under their care, means Solune would have the most insane however many minutes they spent interacting with Minthara and I am obsessed about it.
As far as I'm conceptualising it, I'm thinking of Lloth as extremely Ungoliant-like. Goddess of hunger, goddess of wanting and consumption, goddess of excess and exuberance, goddess who unmasked the hypocritical gods of starvation, guilt and purity into a society that cherishes a certain kind of clarity about the double standard they impose. For Drow are evil for their wars and their wanting and their taking, but those other people with their other gods kill, warmonger and enslave with no regard and no self-awareness, calling the indignation about receiving scraps from a bunch of silent, unrepentant gods, "guilt and shame". There is violence in denial and her Children will not suffer it.
In the season of Life, they do not sacrifice the unwilling. It is taboo. The only sacrifice that matters is the desire to be devoured and destroyed by the things you love the most.
And Solune sees Minthara and is like fucking finally, someone rational enough to get what I'm going through, that they're losing their mind that their life was taken from them and if they become this other thing, if they transform, if they do not remain Luxe Solune Mizzmyrra, Life Knife of Lloth, they're never going to be able to be reintegrated into that life. They will die away from home, from their temple, from their (first) spouse, from their mother and their siblings and there won't be the day when they too succumb to the knife, when it is time, when the day they no longer feel hunger comes.
And then the parasite gives them an in into Minthara thinking she was raised from the darkness into a FALSE GOD? One thing you do not do is steal from Lady Lloth, and oh my god, there could've been a time, a chance that existed only in ignorance, of Solune lending a hand to Minthara but this to them is unforgivable because Solune is genuinely a good friend to their friends, but if you keep peeking into whatever mindset nobility and religious authority has given them it's like realising your friend is a cesspool of "what the actual and everliving fuck", and when the knife of the morningstar priestess comes down on Minthara it won't be with love but with absolute rage, grief and disgust and I will be thinking about this for evermore. Thanks, I'm not well
#bg3#bg: solune#minthara#i love Solune they're so fun to build with because it's like sometimes organically they will reach the same conclusion as Wyll about sth#(I did NOT expect them to get along but he is their highest approval followed by Lae'zel)#but it's someone who has such an Alien concept of society to literally everyone else in the party. Solune is (fundamentally!!!) land owning#power concentrating nobility and no matter what they do not matter what conclusion their reach this specific brand of social conservativism#and verticality informs them to their very core. however also and cannot be dismissed that bc of how I'm conceptualising Lloth#(sorry but to write a vertical society that just brutalises itself what is this? western europe? fuck off)#Solune is by some contradiction one of the most You Do You people possible. but like. to a weird extreme and a wouldn't thou like to live#deliciously manner. oh you want to be FREE from your past then BE IT. oh you want to find your place in the world? then let that place#consume you and change you forever until the day there is no more than hungers in you and you can truly say you have lived#terrible enabling force but also extreme nurturing capacity#and above all they want that life back and sympathise with those feelings so well#but if there is one thing they cannot stand and that they will maim you on the spot about is heresy against lloth because you were not give#the gift of unmasking the hypocrisy of the gods of the above to waste yourself turning your back against the underdark jewels of Drow citie#there where the darkness does not mean shadows but the glimmering light of jewels. what do you mean some people live unfair lives?#well have they thought living better???#i'm obsessed with Solune and whatever the fuck is wrong with them (it's money. it's having money)
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While I may not be allowing myself to post spiraling upwards spoilers, I see no issue with posting art of a bunch of folks who are dead before the story starts and one Conetalon who isn't
#keese draws#warrior cats#warrior cats oc#spiraling upwards#these are all the og leaders and deputies of each of the 4 main clans!#and cone is the only of the og deputies who didn’t die before their leader lol#also two of these are mother daughter duos with bonestar being conetalons mom and bristlestar being gullspots mom#gullspots died during a horrible flood in their old camp#and this was pretty early on in the clan’s life too so no one else was rly qualified to be deputy#she ended up choosing honeyfeather as her new deputy which honey did. not take well.#she had be among the injured in the flood and had just lost her tail along with her best friend#so she was not in a place to be deputy at All#and things would only get worse for her when bristle died only a few months later of old age#because of this she has. complicated feelings on bristle to put it lightly.#frostflow died from an infected wound after a nasty fall which left pretty much the entire clan devastated#foggystar didn’t want to force anyone who was grieving to become deputy so he decided on a cat who had only been a part of the clan for#about a year after his old owners died in a house fire#his name was daisy and he’s one of my favorites and currently he’s the youngest of the four leaders#pigeon died via snake bite which is ironic for reasons I won’t go into now but everyone was devastated blah blah blah but really this did#fuck up most of the older members of the clan a lot as pigeon played such a vital role in them all being alive here today#ratstar ended up choosing her other crush (more complicated edition) as her new deputy since she was the right hand man to the cat who#started the revolution that brought them all together but abt a year later it became clear to both of them that nightfur wasn’t able to#handle the pressure of this anymore so she retired#after that ratstar just tried to pick the most responsible looking cat and she kind of succeeded#I say kind of because she Was but then 3 of her children got murdered and her best friend died right before ratstar dropped dead#so now she’s barely holding things together and has some newfound anger issues#and then my girl conestar just got to hang out and become leader when her mom died lucky her#well no she was absolutely devisated when her mom died as bonestar was like the number one cat she cared abt#she had been terrified of losing her mom for good for years so even though she could tell her mom was getting old and was able to talk to#her directly about these fears she still had a hard time moving forwards
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