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writingrenna · 1 year

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Hassel x GN!Reader

"Where The Heart Is"

A story where you start to actively pay attention to the specific brand of weird Hassel throws your way.

I admit, I didn't finish most of the friendship quests because I WANT MORE OF HIM, WHY DO CHARACTERS JUST DISAPPEAR/BECOME GENERIC NPCS WHEN THEY'RE DONE BEING IN THE STORY?? I want to truly engross myself in his backstory, so I'll be taking things slow. Don't mind me, just dragging out the inevitable </3

I WILL be taking advantage of his rematches, thank you very much.

ALSO this takes place three years after the end of the game so your expy has time to be hired and get to know Hassel, you work as one of the academy librarians!

Tone/Ending: Slightly Angsty At Parts, Wholesome, Romantic

Warnings: If you're sensitive to rough family situations, be warned! Hassel is very firm with no longer associating with his family and it's hinted at that his childhood wasn't the best, but the story doesn't dwell on that yet, I'm exploring that more later

Also, beware the movie and Hassel's painting sections, especially if the Iron Giant makes you sad

Word Count: A little bit over 5,000

^^^>

"You're... really sure about this, huh?" You say into your mug.

The steam from your tea gently tickled your nose as you considered what he said. The two of you were standing at the back of the staff room, both leaning against a window each on opposite sides of the bookshelf. The rain was fairly loud, but it served more as a gentle white noise to your conversation than anything.

"Yes, I simply cannot imagine an outcome that would make reaching back out again worth it."

You couldn't see his face, but the sadness in his tone was evident, so you took note of that.

"Ah, I know how that feels." You say, remembering some sour relationship conclusions where the other person reached out again or seemed to linger a bit more than they should. But his story... holy Tauros, it was something else.

"Well, do you think you're happy here in Paldea?" You begin. "I mean, would you consider seeing more of the world from time to time? Maybe even visit your home region again?"

He paused, taking in your question. He then huffed a little out of his nose, although it didn't seem to be out of annoyance.

"Well, I have lightly entertained the idea of just visiting my homeland again, but I just..." He paused. "Something is holding me back."

Your face dropped from attentive neutrality to one of sadness for him.

"Hey, no, that's valid of course! I was just wondering where you stood, you know? Like, after escaping all that and starting anew here? I'll stop asking if you like, though."

He immediately rebutted your offer.

"Nonsense, my dear. I do not mind your curiosity. I am aware my familial ties are... strange."

You can almost feel him stare into his mug in self-reflection, the one with the hand-drawn Gossifleur design a student made him that he had printed on. The one he proudly owned and tearfully showed off to every member of staff who happened to walk by if he had it at the time until the entire combined workforce of both the academy and the league knew about it. His favorite mug...

Him speaking up snapped you out of your trance.

"Ah, and about your first question. Truth be told, I do not have enough time to even imagine seeing more of the world, much less experience it. Between the academy and my duties with the elite four, my schedule is simply swamped! I sadly do not even remember the last time I had an extended break."

You frowned, looking down at your own mug. The one you spun yourself after classes on a day that Hassel had done a lesson in properly handling clay, donated courtesy of Brassius. He gave you a chance to throw down and de-stress as he cleaned the rest of the classroom since you had an especially rough day reorganizing books in the massive entrance hall. It wasn't perfect, but it was your own pride and joy, one he had cried upon seeing you finally use one spring morning.

"Oh! But do not pity me, I really and truly do love working with our students and giving it my all in the league. My classes remind me of the joy and wonder one feels while appreciating the beauty the world has to offer, even during those darker days. The future is bright for all our students! And these dragon Pokémon..." He paused. "They were always there for me despite my family's less-than accepting stance on my life choices. I have nothing but praise and gratitude to show them all."

You smiled, looking down a little as you let his words reverberate in your mind. You were going to ask him another question, only for him to completely derail your train of thought.

"Besides... there are many a thing here to make me feel well and truly at home."

You could hear a great warmth in his voice when he said this. You pondered on this, wondering if he meant to hint at something there when you notice the rain had stopped.

"Hey, the rain's gone!" You said before departing from the window. You stretch, careful not to accidentally spill the contents of your mug as you do so. You then walk forward a bit, looking over at your colleague as you do so.

You can't help but pause, however, at the way he stared longingly at the mug.

His eyes were transfixed on the last bit of tea left, swirling the liquid in his hands. His usual piercing eyes were replaced with a far more softened gaze, pupils large and unfocused.

He glanced up at you, smirking, although it was out of contentment. You couldn't help but focus on his blush. He was obviously thinking about something, but what ?? The way he stared at you from below his eyelids, refusing to lift his head more, but still giving you his undivided attention made you feel... strange.

'What is this man thinking?'

Despite taking in every little thing you could about his strange behavior, the moment really only lasted a few seconds before he chuckled softly, sitting up straight himself.

"Ah, well then." He softly intoned. "We should probably head out. Would you..."

He rubbed the back of his neck.

"...do me the honor of... of letting me walk you outside?"

^^^>

The rain-kissed streets of Mesagoza smelled fresh, and the warmth in the air left you without the need of a jacket, so you decided to forego wearing it. Hassel seemingly felt the same way, taking his coat off and draping it over his right arm before gently placing his left dominant hand over top it, as if caressing it. He took a deep breath, eyelids closed and fluttering.

"Ahh... smell that evening air. The world has been rinsed clean and emerges anew!"

You smiled up at him. He truly did seem to appreciate every little thing this world had to offer, good or bad.

"Hah! Yeah, I love the smell of rain. Very cozy, makes me feel all peaceful and stuff."

You suddenly remembered something.

"O-oh! And did you know? The word describing that comfy smell of rain after a dry season is 'petrichor'!"

He looked at you, head tilted down and to the side at you, his wide eyes showing his astonishment.

"I did not! Thank you for enlightening me, I now know a far simpler way to describe this feeling."

You beamed up at him, eyes closing momentarily as you grinned a toothy grin. When your eyes opened again, his face had an enchanted smile. That blush... it was back.

A coincidence, surely.

You decided to pretend you didn't notice.

"Oh, hey! It's a nice evening. Would you like to take a little walk?"

You bow slightly, looking up at him and offering your hand. He flinches slightly, eyes widening again as his face erupted in a deeper hue.

"Uh, y-yes. Yes I would."

He hastily grabs your hand and moves to face forward, avoiding your gaze. The man was probably in his early-to-mid 50's or 60's, but his voice audibly cracked. You didn't mention it, however, much to his relief.

^^^>

Here you are, splashing and kicking about in some puddles. You brought rain boots with you to keep at the school because the weather seemed to change at a sneeze in Paldea, but you really didn't mind. You loved the rain. You also loved having company, even super posh and serious company. You called for your companion.

"C'MON, HASS! WHY NOT GET YOUR PANTS WET THIS ONE TIME!?"

He was leaning away, seemingly trying to protect his suit jacket.

"Er... I would rather not have to deal with dry cleaning for a few minutes of rebellion..."

You understood, although a part of you just wanted to see the man act like a child again. So you walked off to stare out into the distance, 'hmm'ing to yourself as you came up with an idea. This worried Hassel, who backed up a bit.

"My dearest, what is on your mind? I'm not sure I feel comfortable with your suspicious little 'hmm's..."

You let out a mischievous little cackle before turning your upper half back towards him. His nervous smiling face screams 'oh Arceus, save me!', yet he remains glued in place. He seems ready to bolt at any second, however.

"Oh, nothing." You start, turning to walk toward the man, whose nervous smile wavers a bit to being more worried.

"But I will break you."

He lets out a shakey noise, but he remains.

"Ah, well, it is alright. No need for, um, breaking." He grins. "I am quite content simply watching you enjoy yourself."

He seemed genuine. You groaned.

"Oh, I am still breaking you, sir." You point a finger at him, waggling it a little as you turn and walk away, although you don't retract it, simply shaking it to your side. "Juuuust you wait."

He 'hmmph's, shaking his head in amusement.

"I see, I am..."

He mumbles an 'Oh bother...' under his breath before continuing.

"...interested... to see whatever you have planned for the night."

You freeze. You didn't actually stop to think about when you'd "break" him. But tonight definitely works.

"Good. Cause it's gonna be WIIIIILD."

^^^>

It certainly was not nearly as wild as Hassel expected. Here you were, popping popcorn as he sat under a blanket fort in your living room. A part of you expected him to be giddy, feeling that childlike wonder take over.

But the logical part of you predicted his bewildered expression, silently staring up and around at the neon lights you hung about the dark room.

"So." he began. "What exactly did you have in mind?"

"Oh, I wanna remind you of what it's like to be a kid again! Let loose, man!" You did a strange little shimmying dance as you said this.

His eyes widened, although it was different than before.

"Really now?"

"Yes, really!"

The popcorn was finally done, so you put it in a large bowl before going over and putting it on the floor beside him.

"It's movie night now! Your choice..." You said, holding up several cases with classic movies.

The Little Primarina, The Pyroar King, even Revavrooms were available for him to choose from. He carefully looked them over, his usual neutral expression on his face as he seemed to seriously consider which movie to watch. It was kinda funny, your stomach compressing a little to hide a laugh that was threatening to come up. He didn't seem to notice however, instead pointing to one, looking back up at you in the process.

"That one looks promising."

^^^>

He chose poorly. Or at least, he chose one he wasn't prepared for. You watched as tears spilled from his eyes, him constantly shaking his head and whispering "no" over and over with the covers pulled up over his nose. The Steel Ultra Beast really did a number on him, watching the mysterious entity (who we now know as Celesteela) sacrifice itself to save its new friends from an Ultra Wormhole a secret branch of the government tried to seize, but instead caused to collapse. He yelped when it said to itself "Palafin." He couldn't bare to watch the climax, sobbing pitifully while squeezing his eyes shut, looking down and repeatedly chomping down on the blanket you two shared.

"It's Ok, Hass..." You said, rubbing his shoulder.

You had tried to warn him, but in all fairness, it'd take a lot of effort to properly warn anyone of the emotions involved watching it without spoiling the entire movie.

He leaned into you, his eyes still closed, tears still managing to escape.

"Th-thank you, my dearest..." He sniffles.

You felt bad for even having it as an option, but then again, he seemed to enjoy it despite the... sorrowful conclusion. You gave him a little while to let it all out, holding him tight and rubbing his back as he bawled his eyes out into your shoulder. You were so sucked up in comforting him that you almost forgot-

Gasp!

You sat up abruptly, although you hold onto Hassel so he's still lying on you.

"The ending scene!"

He's teary-eyed, but he looks over to the TV screen.

"The ending has not happened yet?"

"No! Or at least, not the true ending."

You smirk and look down at him like a Purrloin caught stealing but absolutely not regretting it, although his eyes are still sad. Either way, he kept watching, when...

"It... it is rebuilding itself?"

"Yeah! I mean, the movie never got a sequel, which sucks, but hey! Open-ended bittersweet endings are one of my favorite kinds!"

He seemed to feel slightly better, sniffling a bit as he sat up and wiped his nose.

"Ah, I-I see..." He said, slowly calming himself down. He took a few deep breaths before turning to you.

You feel the need to apologize.

"Hey, sorry I, uh, brought that movie out in the first place."

He looked at you, a weak smile on his face.

"Do not apologize, my dear! I can see why you and many others consider it a cult-classic. It was a marvellous story despite the turmoil in my heart. Perhaps even partially because of it."

He seemed hesitant to say the next part, sitting with his legs up to his chest.

"I, um, had a fantastic time with you tonight."

He turned to look at you, eyes sparkling due to the light of the TV.

"Really, I did."

There was so much warmth in his tear-stained face.

"I'm glad! I just wanted to see you let your guard down, haha!"

"Ah, I see..." He said, eyes darting to the side as he turned away, contemplation on his face.

The two of you sat in silence for a moment as he thought on what all just happened. You decided to close your eyes, lightly humming a tune to yourself. It wasn't one that existed, or even made sense really, but it was your own little melody.

"Ah, I have always wondered, is that a song you like?"

"Hehe, nah, just a melody I made up one day."

"Oh. It is very pleasant." He smiled.

"Thank you!" You smiled back.

^^^>

He had gone home later that night after you forced him to stay for pizza and a few episodes of a show you used to watch. He went for a salad instead, not wishing to feel sluggish on his way home, although you got him to eat one singular solitary slice. All-in-all, it was a very good night. You got him to smile and laugh again despite watching such a sad movie just an hour before.

It was now Friday, three days later. You knew he'd have something special planned for his students today, as he did every other Friday. You wondered what it'd be as you reorganized the shelf housing the Occulture Magazine again. You idly wondered how accurate the entries were when you heard a bell.

"Oh, classes are out already?"

You had already kept up with what the students in the entrance hall were up to that day, since there weren't many there to really pick up after, so really, all you had to do was a final check of the catalog you started earlier so you could pop by and see what Hassel had done that evening.

It took a bit over 30 minutes to wrap everything up, but you finished, signing out of your work computer and making your way over to the art room.

When you reached the door, you heard a familiar tune. You wondered what it was, before suddenly realizing something: it's the tune you hum! He remembered it? Has he hummed it before?

You entered the classroom, prepared to ask him how he remembered the erratic tune so well when you decided to see if he was in a state to even be distracted. Hassel was sitting at a desk, adding various dots with the aid of a thin paintbrush to a canvas he had. You assumed it was glitter or stars.

He looked up at you, neutral expression turning into a huge grin.

"Oh, my darling! Come over here! I have something I'd like to show you!"

You did as he said, coming over as he himself stood up to meet you at the other side of the desk.

He held up a painting, and by Arceus was it gorgeous. It was of Celesteela, flying into space, a content look on its face despite the doom looming over it.

"I used this as an example for today's lesson." He began. "I was inspired by our movie night earlier this week. I thought of the many pieces of media that make one feel things, the images and words that truly stick with you that came from another mind, how we often analyze and relate to them. So I decided to base this Friday's special on that very concept! Everyone was allowed to draw and paint their own favorite scenes from the movies, shows, and games they enjoy."

You nodded, still taking in all the details of his painting. He based it off a real photo of Celesteela, a sorta modern "glow up" of sorts that make the familiar scene truly pop.

He continued.

"This piece was meant to represent the acceptance Celesteela showed during the climax of the film. How it smiled despite facing what it thought at the time was oblivion. How it..." He swallowed and blinked harshly a few times. "...it would do anything for... the ones they lub... w-without he... hesi-"

You put a hand on his shoulder, smiling. The man looked back down at you, obviously on the brink of tears as he swallowed and sniffled a bit.

"Heh... I suppose you wouldn't need my analysis, seeing as though that tape of yours was so well-loved."

He had taken note of how the label on the tape wasn't perfectly pristine.

You scoffed, playfully rolling your eyes.

"Yeah, well..." You continued to look off to the side. "I like it when things make me feel things."

He softly laughed, a few stray tears finally escaping. He closed his eyes while leaning his head back for a moment.

"Yes, I can tell. You seem to enjoy learning about descriptive words and how specific they can get..."

He trailed off before wiping his tears away, finally looking down at you again.

"Well, speaking of, would you like to... accompany me at my booth for the academy's upcoming fair? It would be nice to teach people more ways to express themselves and how they feel about the things they consume. It is truly saddening to see people keep their opinions to themselves simply because they do not know how to accurately bring their thoughts into the world. And as a self-proclaimed 'word nerd', your area of expertise would be an excellent addition to my own inspiration station, alleviating the frustration they feel and helping them dig up what they feel inside."

You blinked. Hassel, the Hassel wanted to work with you? You thought he was far more articulate than you, often gnawing at what he says in your mind and trying to emulate that vibe in your emails. I mean, you often said "lmao" in real life. Having an interest in words sadly didn't make you a wordsmith of any sort. Did he see something in the way you speak or express yourself that you didn't?

"I'll d-do it."

Woah, how nervous were you? Or, rather, how eager were you?

Hassel's golden eyes shone as he grinned, ecstatic at your 'yes'.

"Ah, do not worry, my dear! You will do amazingly, I just know it."

Looks like you're gonna need to break out the thesaurus.

^^^>

It was the afternoon of the "Treasures Within" fun fair. Hassel's booth was really fun, he'd do his usual demo thing while also personally helping people start their artistic journeys when they didn't quite know where to go after each session. His advice came from a place that personally helped him cope and start his life anew in his past, although he didn't delve into just how it helped, only that he understands the struggle.

As for you, if someone wanted to articulate exactly how they felt about a piece of art or music, you'd hold a "mind unraveling" session, where you picked out certain themes they repeated or tried to go deeper in until they felt confident in describing what it is they feel with words that felt right. You thanked yourself for having the forethought to read up and watch a bunch of impassioned speeches online ahead of time.

It was a month of you hiding your anxiety from Hassel, but you can tell he knew, as he not-so-subtly tended to your every unspoken need, such as making tea whenever you were too busy reading, or having a comfy spot prepared whenever you came to his room to discuss your plans. He would even manage to check in on you more often than usual despite needing to tend to things on his own end.

Nothing could really get past him, could it?

As you were finishing up helping a kid who wanted to express just why he loved a drawing where Regieleki and Xurkitree became friends so much, you turn to see Hassel already looking at you, a familiar fond smile on his face.

"I would say today was a success, no?"

You pause for a split second, although you're not sure why. You respond, however.

"Oh yeah, for sure! I'd say we make a great team, even!"

Now it was Hassel's turn to pause, although his is far more noticeable. Jolting slightly, his mouth suddenly presses together into a tight line as a blush erupts on his face. He pretends to not realize this, although he looks tense.

"I certainly agree, my dear-"

His voice momentarily rises in pitch as he abruptly chokes and doubles over at the end, turning away. It sounded genuine, although you wondered if it'd have happened if you didn't say what you did.

You couldn't help but look back on all his odd behaviors around you lately.

"Um, yes!"

You turn to a vendor.

"I'm..."

You momentarily turn back to the man, pointing over your shoulder to the stand.

"I'm gonna go get some juice. For you, specifically."

You then turn and leave without another word.

^^^>

It was night. The fun fair has long since been cleared out in Mesagoza, but the two of you were nowhere near the town anymore. In fact, you were on top of the lighthouse on Poco Path.

Your eyes were closed, taking in that sea breeze. You cooed softly as you felt the gentle wind cut through the otherwise muggy night. Despite the humidity, it felt nice, reminding you of summer nights as a child.

Your train of thought came to an abrupt halt at this realization, however.

What was the weather like where Hassel used to live?

You opened your eyes, slowly turning toward the man, who also had his own closed. He had a calm smile on his face. You didn't want to ruin it, but you couldn't help but feel bad. He left all that was familiar to him due to circumstances he couldn't control, at the hands of his own family, no less. You wondered if he had any particular places, feelings, or things he missed, but you decided to ask a different question.

"...hey, uh... Hass?"

His smile widened for a split-second before he responded, eyes still closed.

"Yes, my dear?"

You didn't know how to begin.

"Does this weather make you think of anything?"

His smile fell to a neutral frown as he thought.

"Hm. What do you mean?"

How do you ask this question without annoying him...?

"L-like, this weather reminds me of summer break, when I'd open my window past my usual bedtime and stare at the stars. Does this weather make you feel nostalgic in any way? Like, sentimental and peaceful and stuff?"

You look down, stretching the bottom hem of your top a little. "It's just an intense feeling I'm getting, sorry."

He takes a moment to ponder this question.

"Ah, no worries. We often feel the need to relate with others in regards to our intense feelings and emotions. But to answer your question, it does, yes."

This answer both relieved and confused you further. He seemed fine answering, but it was somewhat vague. You decided not to push it, however, just glad he didn't take it the way you thought he might (not that it'd be wrong if he didn't want to answer it at all.)

"Right on, man. Right on..."

You turned away and stared back out into the distance. The silence that swept over the scene felt loose, fluid, running through and around the two of you like some unknown substance.

You weren't sure if you should add anything onto the conversation, but his voice decided what would happen instead.

"I... have a confession to make, actually."

You froze.

"Yeah?"

He took a deep breath.

"That feeling you often speak of, the one where you feel a lightness in your chest and peace wash over you. A peaceful sadness, even, I do not really feel when I think of 'home' anymore. I feel nothing. "

You take his words in. It made sense, really, but it made you sad beyond belief.

He continued.

"Yes, that feeling of longing, a-and belonging, I know it may be hard to truly grasp, but trust me when I say I am fine with my decisions, that I cannot say I regret leaving my old life behind even if I do miss certain aspects of it from time to time. The negatives here far outweigh the positives there."

You nodded. Honestly, this convo was all your mind needed to extinguish your curiosity for a good while. He left home, and he's content with his current life, no matter how much he may miss certain aspects of it. No elaboration needed.

Except, there was some elaboration needed, only it was needed elsewhere.

"Oh! And your confession? Or was that your confession?"

He paused, body tensing as his grip on the handrails tightened. His breathing became slightly labored as a blush creeped onto his face.

"Um, well..."

He mumbled an "Oh dear..." to himself before continuing.

"When I said I have things here that make me feel at home, I meant the connections I've made. I love the people in my life far more than I love my family. I still care for them, yes. I can confidently say I love them, but I cannot say I actually like them."

He wasn't looking at you. Your mind was swimming with possibilities for what he planned on saying next, although you had the faintest idea...

"I... am very fond of you, too. I often find that I feel that peaceful feeling around you in particular."

He swallowed, eyes stinging with tears he tried desperately to blink away. He was holding his composure quite well, actually. You subconsciously held your breath.

"My darling dearest, I cannot hide how I feel for much longer, no matter how hard I try... I think... I believe I am... falling in love with you."

Your mind went blank as you stared up at the man, heart and stomach dropping in an instant. His eyes have closed yet again. His shuddering shoulders and shaky breath gave everything away, however.

He lifted his arm, covering his eyes as you continued to stare wide-eyed at him.

"I am so very sorry, my dear! I-I hobe you do nod feel cornered by my conbession!" He sobbed. "I shall make my leab ib- ib you wish do be aloooone! BWUHH-HU-HU-HU-HUHHHHH!!"

You could barely understand what he was saying. He had already started to walk away when you finally closed your mouth. You weren't even aware you were gaping at him, the confession shutting your senses down despite halfway expecting something along these lines at this point. You guessed actually hearing him say it was different to speculating quietly to yourself...

"W-wait! Mr. Hassel!"

You grabbed his free arm, stopping him from getting any further. His cries continued, however.

"I-I'm sorry! I was just so shocked, I-"

You look down, still processing the feeling of your heart pounding in your chest. You hadn't even realized you were shaking so much until you realized how oddly... weak your grip on his arm felt.

"I-I jus-"

He took a few rapid half-breaths before stopping you.

"You do nod h-hab do gib me a resbonse! Nod now, nod eb-eberrrrr!"

You considered this. Truthfully, the idea of giving dating Hassel a shot didn't seem half-bad. You looked up to him, admired his skill and his strength despite everything he's been through. Not to mention, you admittedly found the man kinda cute. His personality just struck you as so sincere, taking his work and emotions very seriously. He's a very honest man, so he must truly love you. You'd definitely feel secure with him...

"...you're right... about the me needing time thing." You began. "B-but once I sort my feelings out, maybe we can get to know each other some more?"

He was still trembling, breath catching up with him as he hyperventilated. But a few seconds later, while heavily panting, he could respond.

"I-I would lub that!!"

He had turned to you, eyes still closed, head still tilted back, but he grabbed both of your hands and gently brought them up a little closer to himself. As he finally caught his breath and started breathing at a normal pace (aside from the large, shallow breaths he took), he slowly opened his eyes, looking at you, blush ever present on his face. His eyes sparkled with an intensity you'd never seen before as he smiled, the bottoms of his eyes crinkling as he did so. For a split-second, he looked like a young man again...

The two of you stood there, a tranquil feeling coming over you, when you heard him start to whimper. His mouth wobbled for a second before he suddenly started bawling again, causing your eyes to widen. You then let out an odd chuckle.

"Oookay, big guy. C'mere."

You took him into a hug, causing him to cry even louder as he let his overwhelming emotions out.

^^^>

It had been a few weeks. You were thinking back on everything that had happened. The moment you realized 'maybe he feels stronger feelings toward me than I thought.' How he went along with your weird plans despite having better things to do, how he looked out for your well-being by going above and beyond for you and truly understanding your needs, how he always praised and incorporated you into his work...

You absent-mindedly flip through some pages of Occulture Magazine. It really didn't seem too realistic now that you actually had a chance to sit down and read through it, but strangely enough, that wasn't really what you were thinking about right now.

You stand up, putting the book back on the shelf, a smile on your face as you make your way to the art room. He was on break at the moment.

You approach the open door, leaning against it and knocking, catching his attention.

"O-oh! Hello there!" He quickly clears his throat. "I'm very happy to see you! What brings you here?"

You look around, making sure nobody was there to hear this.

"Hoooow about... we go see a movie this Saturday?"

^^^>

A/N

I KNOW THIS STORY IS A LITTLE ODD! Like, he seems to be madly in love with you already, to an obvious degree, but this is the first time you take note of anything, right? Well, it's one of those "Oh yeah, there were signs" sorta situations. The pottery night you had with him was a small hint that he was already looking out for your well-being well before this and giving you special attention, but you just didn't think much of it. Plus, he's quite emotional, you imagine that once he finds a friend he feels safe around, his even more complex feelings come out. Which, true, but also HE DOES STUFF AROUND YOU THAT HE ONLY DOES AROUND YOU BUT YOU DON'T NOTICE CAUSE HE IMMEDIATELY CHANGES HIS BEHAVIOR ONCE HE REALIZES YOU'RE NEARBY. You defo noticed that behavior change, but again, he changes a bit around close friends already, and you didn't really have a point of reference for what his "normal" is (yet)

Sorry, I just love the pining dude genre, gimme some more oblivious love interests for male characters, please! Your gender still isn't stated, I just wanted Hassel to be the one to be super soft and like "Yes please notice me" while you're like "Huh. Cool. He just asked to take me to a new café. So anyway, how about some more weirdly specific words?" IT'S SUPER CUTE AHH

Also, speaking of, the story was gonna have them going to a café instead of a walk, and him talking about some beautiful customs and traditions from around the world and bringing up the Applin thing as a super duper totally subtle hint at his feelings, but you'd genuinely not know of that tradition before, so you'd just see it as a neat little cultural tidbit, but then I was like "bruh they just had tea", so I changed it to them spending time together like kids cause I thought it'd be cute if you got through to him to get him to experience things from a childhood he couldn't enjoy (even if it is more based on your own childhood, you're trying! Consider the night they shared here a test run). No worries, in future installments, reader will begin to fully understand what he went through growing up (I tried to make their questions less about his family and more about his life in general, but of course, the two are forever linked.) The idea of the little fair came randomly, based on the fact that all the gym leaders seem to have some career where they express themselves (even Larry with his "normal old job(s)," although obviously it's all more complicated than that), plus the entire game has frequent themes of people finding where they fit in life, what they wanna do, their dreams/goals, things like that. It's pretty interesting, actually, I can't articulate myself well tho so RIP I guess

ALSO ALSO not gonna edit this one cause the Tumblr app COULD NOT HANDLE IT LAST TIME so yeah

OH YEAH I HAVEN'T SEEN THE IRON GIANT IN 66 MILLION YEARS SO SORRY, I JUST TOOK WHAT I REMEMBERED AND POKÉ-FIED IT, I'm just going to use the excuse that the legends of the Ultra Beasts go WAY back, so the Celesteela in the movie may look simplified by comparison due to them not having a complete picture of it compared to the characters in S/US/M/UM. The movie doesn't even say its name, simply referring to it as the Steel Ultra Beast because nobody knew their names yet

#elite four hassel #hassel x reader #pokemon scarlet and violet #spoilers #gender neutral reader #open ended (romantic)

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arand0mdutchgirl · 1 year

Text

Hello, guys!

As some of you may know i post daily lab rats fanfics on ao3 as ARandomDutchGirl. They're mostly Chaz fanfics, (like 90%lol).

i've always taken requests, but until now i only got one for my Spike and Chase as twins headshots.

However i got a new request in my tumblr ask box and this is my reponse to my first anomynous requested fanfic.

So my request rules for my tumblr are:

I don't write: smut/sexual content, eating disorders/disordered eating, rape or any non-consentual stuff, suicide attempts, murder (i do write attempted murder). All other requests are welcome, but can ALWAYS be denyed by me. I take requests on ao3 and on Tumblr.

Now i got this anomynous request.

Ano; Hi! could you please write a one shot about Dom Chase's reaction to his s/o using their safe word?

Info about the fic i wrote:

1: It's only 1K words (so the shortest thing i've ever written by far), 2: i made the fanfic Chase Davenport x reader and i made the reader genderneutral so everyone can decide for themselves how the reader identifies. 3; It's rated mature but i didn't write any actual sexual content. 4: i usually like my writing, but i feel like this is cringy, maybe because i've never written stuff like this. Or maybe its Just cringy😂.

This is outside of my comfort zone, however i did decide to write it today, just no smut. So there's no sexual content.

Except for the first non-graphic few sentences of them.using thier safeword anr Chase stopping what he was doing.

Now because i usually don't write stuff like this i can't tell if it's weird/cringy. So i would love for someone to proof-read it bedore i post it. To make sure it's not cringy, weird, uncomfortable or litterlau anything negative.

Or if you're reading this and you're like "nooo don't post that", please let me know you feel tbat way😂.

Please let me know if this is something that you'd be intrested in reading and if you'd be down to proof read it and don't be afraid to give me your real opinion, i can take it😂.

Thanks for helping a girl out.

Ps: my tumblr is not just open for requests i'm always down to chat on here or on ao3! Love you guys!

#headcanon #chase davenport #Chase x reader #lab rats elite force #lab rats #gender neutral names #Gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n

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sundrop-writes · 2 months

Text

Pathetic

Sub!Spencer Reid x Switch!GN!Reader x Dom!Elle Greenaway

Summary:

Spencer needs to be punished, and as always, you and Elle are very creative with it. One of these days, he might learn to behave - but you hope that day is not anytime soon.

Dom!Elle Greenaway x Switch!Gender Neutral Reader x Sub!Spencer Reid. Established Dom/Sub Relationship. Smut/PWP.

Word Count: 2,600

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: this is just straight up smut/pwp; this is a threesome/poly relationship - the characters have been in this kind of relationship for a while and they're all very comfortable with their roles; there is no mention of safewords, but it is implied that the characters are all comfortable with each other and safety nets exist in the background; Elle is dominant, Spencer is very submissive, and the reader is a switch - being dominant with Spencer and submissive towards Elle; the reader's genitals are not described in any way and the reader is gender neutral; mentions of Spencer having a humiliation kink; hair pulling (towards Spencer); mentions of Spencer being 'punished'; penetrative sex/unprotected piv sex - Spencer fucks Elle's pussy (without a condom, oops); mentions of Spencer wearing a cockring; orgasm denial/orgasm restriction (towards Spencer); light bondage - Spencer's arms being handcuffed behind his back; mentions of Spencer being spanked (does not take place during the fic); some nipple play (Spencer receiving); the reader calls Elle 'm'am' (Spencer calls her 'Miss'); at one point; Spencer is called 'pathetic' and 'a little bitch'; (so I guess degradation kink too?); the reader gives Spencer a handjob; some cumplay/cum eating; snowballing (in a kiss between the reader and Spencer; mentions of chastity belts/genital cages (not used during the fic); there is somewhat of a rivalry going on between Spencer and the reader?; the reader is kind of a brat, competing with Spencer for Elle's attention; and I believe that's it.

A/N: This could be viewed as a sequel to The Perfect Brat, or it could be viewed as taking place in the same universe as that fic - the reader character in this fic is Gender Neutral and does not have their gender described where as the reader character in that fic is female, so I wouldn't say specifically that it is a sequel - but it could be. Anyway - this is mostly inspired by my love of Spencer's slutty waist. I hope you guys enjoy it!

...

“God, he’s so pathetic.”

The words came out of Elle’s mouth as an airy chuckle, truly punctuating her thoughts on the situation. The man between her thighs was nothing but laughable - in the most pussy-wetting way.

Naturally, Spencer let out a chest rattling moan at her comment, finding nothing but pleasure in the humiliation that she doled out. Even if he refused to admit it - it was his nature. He thrived off of being mocked and praised; punished and rewarded.

You let out a chuckle of your own, running your fingers through his hair, a jolt going down your spine when you tugged sharply on those pretty brown locks and he let out a pretty gasp.

Elle watched on with inquisitive eyes and swallowed up a low moan inside of her chest - controlled, composed, as she always was.

She made a clear effort not to lose her precious composure in front of Spencer. She never needed him to think that he provided her with any kind of elite pleasure. That he could give her something that she couldn’t get from someone else. Especially not from you. He was just another tool in her belt. One that needed to be polished by her before he could be properly used.

(He really needed to learn to keep his mouth shut, but he probably never would.)

Even now, when he was balls-deep inside of her, her face remained smooth and neutral - not giving away a single flicker of the pleasure she might be feeling. Because it was all a big game, and she had to win. She was entirely demure as she stared up at him from her position, laying on her back in the middle of the bed. Technically, she was the lowest in the room, but always the one in the highest seat of control. Always the one with the most power in the room, no matter what.

And unlike Spencer, you weren’t going to mess with the status quo of that power.

“I think it’s almost… cute?” You remarked, knowing you sounded utterly condescending as you let out another giggle. (Especially if Spencer’s pleasurable gasp was anything to go by.) “At least he’s trying.”

Spencer let out a choked whine, clearly humiliated and turned on by the way the two of you spoke - talking around him as though he wasn’t even there. As though he wasn’t important enough to even acknowledge.

Spencer was currently stuck between the two of you, in a way that felt unfair yet perfectly and pleasurably melted his brain.

With his cock speared deep inside of Elle’s warm, commanding pussy, while you stood behind him - a lingering presence that trapped him there, he knew that he had nowhere to go. Which he loved and hated at the same time. You were somehow still completely clothed - the fabric of your outfit feeling rougher against his completely naked body as his skin became overstimulated and sweaty, but he couldn’t escape you, not for a moment, while you crowded more and more into his personal space.

“Please,” Spencer whimpered out.

Beneath him, Elle was clad in one of her signature bright red bras - overwhelming his field of vision with the sight of her perfect cleavage and her beautiful hair splayed out across the bed. And somehow, even as dewey sweat gathered on her skin, her makeup stayed perfectly in place, unsmudged and turning her into a goddess-like vision that only made him dissolve more into that pathetic puddle that you both mocked him for being.

With your hands on Spencer’s hips - you kept shoving him forward harshly, forcing him to fuck into the unforgiving heat of Elle’s cunt while his cock panged with twinges of pain and pleasure, stuck pulsing through the aching restriction of a cockring. His arms were bound behind his back with Elle’s cuffs, his hands brushing against your front - but he wasn’t allowed to touch you, no. If he was caught copping a feel, then he knew that he punishment would be even more severe. His ass was already red and sore with the spanking that you had given him earlier.

“Oh god, please.” He whined out again, not even sure what he was begging for - for this to stop, or for it to continue without the cockring so that he could finally cum.

You were getting a great deal of joy out of this, a wicked grin forming on your lips that Elle loved to see.

You loved using Spencer’s body like a puppet; having him acting like a ragdoll to your whims while you kept your hands tight on his hips, digging your nails into his flesh in a way that you knew would leave satisfying bruises there the next day. You loved nothing more than driving him forward, forcing him to fuck into Elle like he was nothing more than a toy - a human dildo to be used for her pleasure.

With both of you standing at the end of the bed, Elle’s ass right on the edge of it, her legs spread wide to accommodate both of you; you were standing right up behind Spencer, not letting him go anywhere, not letting him move an inch to escape the overwhelming tight pleasure of her cunt. The feeling edged him so fiercely, that perfect vice gripping around his cock, with the cockring making him unable to cum. You gripped him tight and forced him to fuck forward into her, despite his whining protests and begging to have the cockring off so that he could cum.

This was a punishment, after all. The punishment being - fucking her for longer than he could take it with no release. Feeling her hot, wet pussy around him and not being able to cum.

“He’s not trying.” Elle argued in reply to your comment, sarcastic venom in her voice. “That’s why he’s so pathetic.”

She reached up and tweaked one of his nipples hard, delivering a bit of pain to put emphasis on her words, and Spencer let out another whine. (Only further proving her point with how utterly pathetic he sounded.)

“Please,” He said, begging once again. “Fuck, please, I promise I’ll be good, I-”

“Shut up.” Elle barked at him. “Go harder.” She said, glancing around his body to look at you.

She didn’t give this order for her own benefit. She wouldn’t enjoy the sex with any more heightened pleasure if his cock was fucking into her harder. She said this because if you forced his hips into her harder, then he would have to feel it more. It would be more punishing for him.

“Yes, M’am.” You easily agreed, biting back a gleefully evil grin.

You shoved his hips forward harder, in faster increments, pulling him back quickly and shoving him forward again. The results were beautiful - his thighs quaked and he let out a pained sound as he limply fell to the movements, like a ragdoll. Letting himself be fucking into Elle, rather than willingly fucking her himself.

His cock was so painfully hard that this left little needles pricking up and down his shaft; sharp shocks of pleasure and pain flowing through him as the wetness coated him warmly and became tangled in his pubes - the most beautiful, mind-numbing torture he could have ever conceptualized. He needed a break - he wanted it to stop, but at the same time, he knew that he would cry and beg for more if his cock was pulled out of that warmth, a place his body knew as a home now. A place that he couldn’t leave.

This was where he belonged.

Stuck between two perfect people, ruling over him, taunting him.

“Please!” He gasped out again. “Please!”

You pushed Spencer forward again, hard, and his legs began to quake as Elle’s pussy squeezed him.

“I can’t!” He shouted, his voice throaty and hollow, half choked in spit. “Fuck, I can’t!”

“Yes, you can.” You said, shoving him forward again, loving the sound of his hips smacking against Elle’s inner thighs. “You’re just being a little bitch about it.”

You leaned in, putting your body flush against his, trapping his arms tighter against his back. You used the motion of your own hips in tandem now, using your body weight to shove him back and forth - causing increasingly wet, sloppy sounds from between him and Elle as she became more turned on by his desperate, humiliated state.

Elle let out a laugh. “It’s like we trained him for nothing.”

“Maybe you trained him to bitch out.” You sighed. “That’s not my fault.”

Elle glared at you - but before she could reply, you shoved Spencer forward again particularly hard, using him like a human dildo inside of her to shut her up. She swallowed down the gasp in her throat, though, biting her lip. She was trying her hardest not to let you know that you had gotten to her in any meaningful way.

Spencer let out a throaty whine.

“Please, let me cum.” He begged, his voice wavering and pathetic. “Please! I’ll do anything, just let me cum!”

You grinned at Elle over his shoulder, pausing your movements and stilling Spencer’s hips for a moment. He let out a sob - even this was torturous pain, reminding him how his orgasm was like a sickness in his stomach. It was a pure, swollen ache in his balls - right there, but unable to come to fruition. He needed to cum so badly.

“What do you think, E?” You asked, using your playful nickname for her. “Should we let this pathetic little boy finally cum?”

You were feeling slightly bad for Spencer, so you reached around his body - thinking of something that might sway her. You rubbed your thumb over her clit, putting your powers of persuasion to the test.

“I kinda wanna get him out of the way so I can have my turn.” You added on, pressing down on her clit harder.

For the first time that night, Elle let out an uncontrolled, deep moan.

“Fuck.” She sighed.

You quickly let up the touch, knowing that teasing her would be more powerful.

“I know what you’re doing.” She told you, throwing you a nasty, knowing smile. It was a warning. “Pull him out.”

You were filled with a terrible excitement. Either she would punish you for trying to scam her, or she would give you exactly what you wanted. She was a lot more lenient with you than she was with Spencer.

You backed off and put your hands on Spencer’s hips, easing him out of Elle’s pussy.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, Miss, thank you-” Spencer repeated the words like a sacred mantra under his breath, and Elle quickly cut him off.

“Shut up.” She barked at him again. “You won’t be thanking me in a minute.”

This shouldn’t have turned you on as much as it did.

Spencer’s cock popped out of Elle’s cunt with a filthy sound, and he only made it back far enough to graze the swollen bright red head against her entrance before she sat up on her elbows and moved to grab the cockring around the base. You watched with your gaze around his shoulder in interest, your hands drifting around his waist to hold him gently from behind. You thought that she would take it off and maybe finish him with her hand to get him out of the way as you had suggested.

But instead, she took off the cockring (which caused a wounded sound to emanate from his chest) and left his bright red, sore looking cock dangling between his thighs as a few thick strands of precum leaked from the head, dripping freely onto the bed between her thighs.

“You feel bad for him.” Elle told you, a dark look in her eyes. “So get to work.”

You wanted to laugh. That certainly wouldn’t be a punishment for you.

With your arm already slung around his waist from behind, you reached down and grabbed his sensitive, achingly hard cock - at the touch, he nearly bucked out of your grip. He cried out in perfect agony and his whole body shook.

Perhaps the punishment would be trying to hold him still.

Elle giggled at this and you used your free hand to dig your fingers into his hip, giving his cock a firm squeeze in an attempt to make him still.

“Stay still.” You ground out, and he quickly complied.

You pumped your hand up and down his cock, the precum and Elle’s wetness being more than enough lube. You did have to enjoy how perfect he felt in your hand - his cock was a thing of beauty, so long and thin and so red when he was overstimulated like this.

Your hand was fast and tight, determined to make him cum as quickly and efficiently as possible. And it took less than thirty seconds of greedy pumping to make it happen. Spencer beginning to wail like a maniac, his jaw dropped open wide and his eyes squeezed shut, his thighs shaking.

All the while, Elle’s eyes were flickering between the sight of your hand as a blur on Spencer’s red cock and Spencer’s orgasmic face, a devilish grin growing on her. Spencer was cumming hard, his cock spurting out generous, thick ropes of cum that landed on the bed, on Elle’s strong inner thighs, and along her bare cunt and her pelvis, where she was perfectly positioned underneath him with her legs open.

You pumped Spencer right through it, even reaching down to fondle his balls - milking him fully of a very large load that was a signature of just how long it had been since Elle had last let him cum. That thick cum seemingly going everywhere - and when he was shaking and about ready to collapse, you finally took your hand off his cock.

“Alright, you two.” Elle announced. “Now get down on your knees and clean up your fucking mess.”

Of course. That was the catch. That was your punishment. You had to share with Spencer.

You wanted to complain about it, but you decided better of it. You didn’t need a vibrating plug in your ass for the better part of tomorrow because you decided to talk back.

Spencer, still panting and dizzy, was quick to fall to his knees in front of Elle and start lapping at her pussy. He had to balance himself well with his hands still cuffed behind his back, but as usual, he was an overeager puppy. He shoved his tongue deep inside of her to taste her, rather than intentionally trying to clean up his mess. You let out a growl of annoyance and knelt down yourself, trying to shoulder him out of the way, poking your head in tightly beside his between her legs.

“Share, asshole.” You growled, moving to grab his hair to pull him out of the way.

“If you two don’t behave, then there’s gonna be some cages tomorrow. No keys for a week.” Elle warned in a dark voice, clicking her tongue in disappointment.

“You better not fuck this up for me.” Spencer whispered to you, seemingly trying to talk too quietly for Elle to hear.

“Hey-” Elle tried again, warning.

You then decided to do something very much in the name of sharing and behaving. (You needed to act boldly, quickly - before Spencer got you both in trouble.)

You licked a long stripe up Elle’s thigh, gathering up a healthy amount of Spencer’s cum onto your tongue before you grabbed him by the back of his hair. You yanked hard, pulling him to your mouth, shoving your tongue right into his mouth for her to see - mixing the essence of her that was already on his tongue with his cum. You purposefully made the kiss sloppy, pure tongues and very little contact of lips, like porn made for straight men. You even moaned loudly, putting on a show just for her benefit.

Spencer easily fell for it - moaning loudly when you pulled harder on his hair, and easily following your lead as his submissive instincts kicked in.

“That’s much better.” Elle sighed in delight.

...

A/N: Please keep in mind, this is a standalone oneshot. This fic is not intended to be continued, so please do not ask for a second part or a continuation. If you like this dynamic and you would like to see it repeated in a different fic (maybe with different kinks/different circumstances), you can definitely let me know by sending me an ask - but for now, if you're going to comment on this fic, please comment about the body of work that has been written.

#sundrop writes #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #elle greenaway #elle greenaway x reader #elle greenaway smut #sub!spencer reid

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bumblesimagines · 5 months

Note

you were a waste of my time.

how long have you known?

Ivan Carvalho

you were a waste of my time.

how long have you known?

pronouns: they/them, gender neutral

i am a patrick hater first and human second

It'd been silly to think Patrick Blanco would ever keep a promise. He'd assured you time and time again that he and Ivan were over, that the spark there had died and he no longer viewed Ivan as anything other than a friend. In retrospect, you should've seen it coming. Patrick had happily pursued Ander despite knowing Ander was in a happy relationship and he'd blissfully pursued Ivan even after repeatedly being rejected. So, when you stumbled across him kissing Ivan and your boyfriend leaning into it, the surprise had been momentary and easily replaced with numbness and indifference.

Scribbling down some notes from class, you hardly noticed the footsteps approaching you from behind until someone swooped down and planted a kiss on your cheek. Cologne invaded your nostrils and you recognized it quickly, a prickle of annoyance flooding your veins as you craned your neck up to look at Ivan. Taking it as an invitation, Ivan leaned down to kiss you again but when you turned away, his lips met the top of your head. A quiet huff left him and he hooked a ringed finger under your chin to tilt your head again.

"How's Patrick? Did you have fun at his place?" Your words made him pause, doe eyes blinking rapidly and puckered lips contorting.

"What?" He nervously laughed and pressed his thumb into your chin, affectionately rubbing your skin. "Love, I was with Isa. She needed some help choosing what outfit to wear to the party tonight, remember?"

"The more you lie, the stupider you look, Ivan." Your words made him reel back, a look of hurt flashing over his pretty features. If only he'd taken time to check his social media, he would've seen the countless posts Isadora had made with Cayetana throughout the day. You rolled your eyes and shook your head, turning your attention back onto the notes. "Aunt Sandra was right. You were a waste of my time."

"How... How long have you known?" He asked quietly, slumping down on the seat beside you with downcast eyes.

"Since my birthday party when you snuck off to make out with your ex." He winced and you nearly rolled your eyes again when his own eyes suddenly flooded with tears. Ivan reached out to carefully take your hands into his, pulling them toward his face and kissing your knuckles. Anyone else might've melted right then and there, but Sandra had raised you and Rebeka right. If only she could see it now, she'd have a laugh.

"Sinto muito, meu amor." Ivan murmured, voice soft and gentle. You snatched your hands out of his grasp and he released a shakey breath. "It- It was a mistake. That night Patrick said he wanted to talk and I thought nothing of it-"

"Sounds like he's been wanting to talk a lot recently. You've been blind to Patrick's behavior since you met him. You don't see how he operates, how works toward making everyone around him miserable just because he is. He messed with Ander and Omar until the two couldn't be together and he's doing it again now. Patrick doesn't care about what you want. He only cares about himself." You flipped the notebook shut and rose from the chair, listening to it scrape against the tile. You shoved the notebook into your bag and slung it over your shoulder, taking one last look at him.

"Patrick will only let you go once he's taken every ounce of happiness from you. Have fun with that."

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serena-babes · 1 month

Note

So i have this idea about the knights of hell. There can’t be a king and princess without some royal protection. So how do you think the others will react to a Hell Knight Reader? Like reader is like a commander of a group of elite knights. And they came to check up on Charlie and Lucifer! To see if the king and princess are okay after the attack on the hotel.

Brownie points if reader doesn’t smile and are serious all the time! Reader is very dangerous they can and will kill to protect their king and future queen! No romance of course, just platonic relationships. Like Charlie can see reader as an older sibling.

Royal Knight Reader x Lucifer Morningstar + Charlie Morningstar

platonic!˙ᵕ˙✰

Gender neutral!

1.5k

omg! this is too cute! i really love the whole knight idea! ⋆｡°✩ i did some research on the whole knight system and its SUPER interesting!

might make another one shot of a knight reader with my own little twist･°˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°.

✧₊⁺⋆.˚꩜⊹ ࣪ ˖˚☽˚.⋆✧₊⁺⋆.˚꩜⊹ ࣪ ˖˚☽˚.⋆✧₊⁺⋆.˚꩜⊹ ࣪ ˖˚☽˚.⋆✧₊⁺⋆.˚꩜⊹ ࣪ ˖˚☽˚.⋆✧₊⁺✧₊⁺

Ever Since Lucifer and Lilith's fall from grace, protection has always been a necessary resource. Y/ns has been there since the beginning pledging allegiance to both the king, queen, and the then young princess serving them for centuries. Y/n and the rest of the knightage fought to make sure to keep hell orderly, or as orderly as hell can get.

Y/n was much more serious compared to their fellow knights being a Grand Cross comes with its different sets of responsibilities that in their mind “allow for no error.” due to their seemingly frigid exterior outsiders would think Y/n was only following the chivalry code nothing more. But, on the contrary, Y/n did truly care for Morningstars.

This is why Y/n's heart dropped hearing about the extermination coming earlier than expected, it was always busier during this time of year. The number of casualties just from the royal guard was always a hard gap to fill after the massacre was over. But at least, the Morning Stars were spared. This time, however? Y/n wasn't sure everyone was going to come back alive, a direct attack from heaven? Some of their most skilled knights have fallen to the hands of exorcists. How in hell would Charlie ever come out alive?

But, Y/n takes orders, and Lucifer stops her from interfering.

“I don't understand why you won't let me do this,” Y/n exclaimed curtly, brows pulled tightly together. The confusion was evident in their tone, their body rigid like a sword. A still silence blankets the room after no response. Y/n, Moving forward through Lucifer's study smoothly dodging various piles of ducks. Continued.

“I am loyal to this family, eternally. And the one chance I am needed…you, tell me to stay?.. Why? She is your daughter. Do you want her blood to spill across the pavement? Because that is what will happen if you let this continue.” Anger started to bubble to the surface as they pointed an accusatory finger at Lucifer.

The silenced followed them

“You must let me go I have-” Y/n pleading began

“Stop, I order you to stop,” Lucifer said weakly, looking away unsure. It was obvious he was going through his own anxiety and turmoil due to the extermination and the safety of his daughter.

“She has to do this, you.” he looked to Y/n glassy-eyed

“Cannot face heaven” he continued “I don't think anyone here really can… Charlie can hold her own. I mean if anything this could I don't know, um.. steer her away from heaven!” he said, his charismatic exterior seemingly returning to his body.

“Yes…but what do we do if she cannot handle it.” y/n said quietly, mouth pulled into a deep frown.

“Well, who better than me? King of hell! Eh! Eh!” lucifer exclaimed loudly elbowing y/n's rib cage

“This is not a time for humor,” she responded coldly. Lucifer rolled his eyes playfully.

“ Y/n I'm worried about her too, but this is something she needs to do. If I need to I will step in. You have enough to worry about with everybody else looking to you for guidance, have faith in her. So! I order you to stay here!…. Please.” Lucifer exclaimed albeit a little awkwardly since he was not used to giving many orders directly to Y/n's face

Y/n Sighed bending down to kneel “As you wish my king.”

“Okay okay, you don't have to do all of that! I mean, come on! You're practically family.” Lucifer exclaimed in surprise.

And so, Y/n trusting Lucifer they went back to their duties. Making preparations for extermination day preoccupied their mind most days. but silently anxiety seeped in. Truthfully, Y/n is terrified of losing Charlie and Lucifer they're the only family they've ever had. Even in life, Y/n wasn't close to anyone as much as they were with the MorningStars, which is why relief flooded Y/n's whole body hearing that both Charlie and Lucifer were safe in the end. After the hotel was rebuilt, they planned a visit to double-check.

It was your average day at the hotel, Husk was busy cleaning the bar counter with a tattered rag as Angel Dust as well as Vaggie lounged on the couch. Angel, scrolled mindlessly through their phone while Vaggie worked on sharpening her spear. Charlie, of course, was planning new lesson plans with her father. Everything was calm. That was until three loud pounding knocks rumbled through the room.

Vaggie immediately jumped up in defense while everyone slowly turned towards the door, a menacing shadow shown through the glass. The only person who seemed excited was Charlie.

“Wait! Wait! This could be a new guest!” Charlie said excitedly jumping at the opportunity to greet the mysterious person at the door

“Okay everyone, let's remember to smile and introduce ourselves!” she smiled to everyone in the lobby, Alastor now entering the picture to observe.

Charlie swung the door wide open “Welcome to the hazbin hotel!- Y/n!!”

Charlie embraced Y/n in a bone-crushing hug squealing and spinning both her and the reader around “I'm so excited to see you! It's been so long! Oh! Come and meet everyone!”

But just as Charlie was leading you over to the rest you spot a certain um. Eccentric! red demon

“Oh! What in the unholy hell is that..” y/n exclaimed obviously unsettled by the red demon

Grimacing at the sight and leaning down Charlie

“Charlie, I trust your judgment but what… what the HELL is that.” but just as y/n leaned up there he was.

“Alastor, Pleasure to be meeting you dear. Quite a pleasure indeed!” Alastor said enthusiastically jostling you around like a rag doll with his over-excited handshake.

“And who are you? The servant to the morning stars him?” he continued. Lucifer and y/n both make eye contact across the room silently agreeing about their mutual opinion of this “Radio Demon” as he likes to be called.

“More like, protector. What are you hm? The janitor? With that tattered suit, one might think you would be a stray animal who wandered in.” Y/n shot back with a frown and an unimpressed brow

“Alright! y/n! Let um let's meet everybody else! please..” Charlie said steering you away from Alastor you both looked as if you were about to be at each other throats if she didn't intervene

“Everyone! This is y/n! They are a part of the…” she whispered over to Y/n “Is it the knightage..?”

“Yes, it's the knightage you're right.” y/n had responded quietly they were used to Charlie's struggle with certain words many nights they had to help Charlie with their spelling when she was younger.

“The Knightage! They work for me and Dad.” Everyone had gone silent at this news no one ever thought that they would be meeting the top of the food chain. Royal knights have been seen around hell usually around the time of the extermination, and almost everybody knew not to mess with them. Especially Y/n, just looking at them everyone would think they could snap someone in half without a second thought. Almost everybody there straightened their posture as Y/N's cold gaze flicked over everybody even Alastor tensed up slightly.

“It's nice to meet everybody, Charlie is very enthusiastic about this hotel of hers, I'm glad it's made its reach to people,” Y/n responded professionally, Charlie looked over the cast of people in the room noting the uncomfortableness of everybody, She knew y/n was…Cold-looking, but she's never seen anyone react to just their presence in such a way.

The silence lasted for what seemed like an eternity no one daring to speak up

“So, are both your swords accurate about hitting certain deep spots, or just the one?” Angel spoke up flirtatiously everyone's heads snapping in the direction of the outburst

“What?! Just asking, geese.” replied angel

“My sword is made of iron it's manufactured to hit “deep spots” A knight does not possess two iron swords that would be .. redundant,” Y/n said calmly. Angel had side-eyed Husk when this was said triggering Husk to roll his eyes to mimic annoyance.

“Speaking of weapons, Vaggie your spear needs to be sharpened. I suggest you sharpen it daily it'll really glide through people like butter if you do.” Y/n continued, they had met Vaggie prior to the hotel but only briefly as Charlie didn't come to the castle much anymore after Lilith left.

“Oh! Um, thanks!” Vaggie replayed hurriedly intimidated by the tall stance Y/n possessed the heavy armor from neck to toe didn't help them look less menacing either

“By the way, thank you for protecting Charlie and everyone at the hotel.” y/n said slowly moving down to kneel “ I wasn't there myself due to my orders but I am glad to know Charlie is in good hands it brings peace of mind.” Y/n continues now fully kneeling

Vaggie visibly flustered responded quickly “Oh! It was oh it was nothing really.”

“Y/n?” Charlie interjected

Y/n slowly rising to their feet, “Yes, Charlie?”

“How about you stay for dinner really.. Catch up!” Charlie said excitedly. Y/n glanced over to Lucifer who had two thumbs up.

“Ah hell, why not.”

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lightdustchild · 5 months

Note

PLEASE MAKE AYANOKOJI TRYING TO TEACH TO HIS GF BUT SHE IS LIKE JUST FLIRTING WITH HIM AND HE IS LIKE "GIRL PLS FOCUS" (on respectful way like he is normal for once and like they have a good relationship, he loves her and SHE loves him) PLS I BEG U 😭😭😭😭😭😭

Focus

××××××××××××××××××××

"Focus..." Ayanokoji mumbled as you gripped his arm your pencil laid off to the side body pressed against his as he had a study guide out for you. You laughed softly and kissed his cheek then nose and then forehead but never kissed his mouth. "y/n" he said lifting your head up his finger under your chin. "You need to focus on studying unless you want to fail." He said and you huffed and giggled before nodding. When you face forward you layed your hand on his leg fingers creeping up. He caugh your fingers with his hand and gave you a pointed look as he sighed "I swear you are hopeless" he mumbled. "Hey whats that mean?" You said before grinning "Fine I'll pay attention!" You said and grabbed your pencil.

Your fingers then slowl-

"I give up. You can't focus."

"yes I can!"

"No you can't."

"....I love you"

Sigh "I love you too..."

#x reader #classroom of the elite #ayanokoji #ayanokoji x gender neutral reader #ayanokoji x reader #ayanokoji x you #fluff #comedy #ayanokoji x female reader

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gettinshiggywithit · 2 months

Note

ok so I saw your post abt wanting to write for pjo but you don't know what and you've only read the books so I figured I'd send a request or sum. now idk if you do headcannons cause I haven't followed you for long, but headcannons abt a relationship with percy? 🍓

🌊Dating Percy Jackson~ (HCs)🌊

Summary: what’s it like dating the son of poseidon and resident blue-enthusiast

Pairing: percy x gn!reader (i think I kept it pretty gender neutral!)

Genre: fluff

T/W: none

A/N: Hi nonny! I hope you like this! Thank you for the request and for getting me out of my writing slump! Pls lmk what you think of it if you feel like it and until next time ciao!

Warning! Not proof read🥹🙏apologies 🥹

I think its a given that percy is the epitome of boyfriend material

I mean the man literally gave up immortality for annabeth!

But this isnt about annabeth,this is about you!

So for the sake of this post let’s assume you both met the same way!

The moment percy saw you he was entranced!

It was a normal day of practice and he was out in the practice pavilion to try his hand at archery(this was when he was still unclaimed)

He was struggling to even hit the target when he turned his head to talk to his instructor from the apollo cabin,only to see you sparring with the camp’s best swordsman,luke castellan!

You were expertly dodging and blocking his advances and while luke seemed to be getting frustrated,you looked smug and excited almost. It was then that perch jackson developed a hugee crush on you

Over the next few days he made attempts to talk to and interact with you,he joined you at the campfire and during these little interactions was when he realised you weren’t just pretty,you had a personality as bright as the sun and your sense of humour was elite!

When he got claimed you helped him accept it and even though you were still unclaimed it really helped him. You listened to him when he needed a friend and helped him see the brighter side of things.

And over time even you seemed to fall for him, i mean what wasnt to love,he was funny,sweet,supportive; everything a girl could ask for!

So when you confessed to him during a sparring session after having just beaten him,he was both confused and overjoyed!

You helped him up and he confessed to feeling the same.and as you both got older,your bond grew stronger.sure there were little hiccups along the way but you always made it work.

Percy noticed everything about you, your little quirks, your little gestures; everything

He was the first to notice when you were feeling even a little bit down and he always had your favorite snacks on hand for when you needed cheering up!

He always took you down to the beach or near the river,exploring both in his little protective bubble was the coolest,most awesome thing you’d ever experienced and even though you felt scared at times,he’d hold you close and not let go until you were on dry land.

Making blue food together in the off season and spending time at his and his mum’s apartment was heavenly,especially your home didn’t exactly feel like a home in the first place.

Sally loved you! She always teased the two of you when you curled up on the couch to watch movies and was just happy her son found someone.

During quests he always had your back but also knew you were perfectly capable on your own,i mean you practically taught him how to sparr yourself!

Through the losses and the gains,the battles and the hardship,you stayed together and helped eachother grow.

You loved him with all your heart and he the same. He was loyal to fault and would never judge or criticize you,if he did it was merely constructive criticism,nothing to belittle you or make you feel insignificant.

He helped you through your moments of insecurity and made you feel whole,like you were worth his love and like you were perfect the way you were.

In conclusion,being in love with percy Jackson means, unlimited support and love and a companion for life🫶

#🎙jaya speaks #📚jaya’s tales #percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #percy jackson fluff #percy jackson x gn!reader #pjo hcs #pjo fanfic #percy jackson

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fengxun · 3 months

Text

ONE LOVE, ONE LIFETIME – YONE X READER

“Well, if you decide to come back here one day,” you said, reaching for his hand. Your skin felt warm against his own. “Just know that I’ll be here waiting for you.” Or, the one where Yone fell first.

CONTENT.⠀gender-neutral reader; romance, light angst and hurt/comfort, family issues, elitism in the family (yeah), Asshole Father bc I have problems, family member death, very heavily implied that MC was an accident baby, talks about death and the afterlife on yone's end, brief talks of arranged marriage, allusions to misogyny. + Spirit Blossom AU with some changes to fit the narrative. ~11k words

NOTES.⠀I wanted to finish this before I start properly using the break so woe ~20 pages be upon ye. I've had this in my drafts for ages and it took longer than I would've liked but! we made it! this is a gift for my beloved @kakujis, a dear friend and my Shimada Liker in Arms. <3 I hope you enjoy!!

divider by cafekitsune | cross-posted on ao3

Pride and honour stood above all else.

Such a lesson was established in your clan from the moment of its founding, forging ahead generations of noble swordsmen who have never strayed from their paths. Every child born into the family is bound to duty, raised and trained by the elite until they are seen as ready for the battles ahead of them. Pride flowed in your veins and you were taught to believe that what you bleed is your negligence. Honour is engraved in your bones, down to the marrow—strong as the seas, and immovable as the mountains.

Every child of your family knows this by heart, including you, the broken one. The odd one out. The blemish on what would otherwise be a pristine reputation.

Born without the same mana or prowess that all of your brothers possessed, you were deemed a flawed child undeserving of the honour of your family name. Fate restricted you from following the path you wished to take as soon as they decided on where your life began. How was it fair at all to put such a heavy burden on a child’s shoulders? On someone who hadn’t opened their eyes for the first time yet?

You craved to learn the ways of a warrior, to be someone the younger generation could trust and look up to. Instead, you were scorned in your own home by a family that was hellbent on upholding tradition and their position among the elite. All because you were born differently. Anything said about you was always done in contempt, especially from your own flesh and blood—your father, your brothers, and your sisters.

‘You are not my child.’ It was your father’s way of saying he didn’t want himself or his beloved sons associated with you, his flesh and blood. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. So long as he and the oh-so-esteemed council were alive, you would never be seen as a part of the family. So long as he continued to breathe, he would look down on you as much as he could. And yet, even though he so explicitly despised you, you still did everything you could so you could be worth his time.

A fruitless endeavour. He held your weakness over your head, his glare a constant reminder of how he’d always see you as a failure. You would never be enough. You wanted to leave, but where would you go? Without your family name, you had nothing. With your name, all you were was a bastard. You were bound to a home that didn’t welcome you.

‘You are not my child.’ You didn’t want to be.

You wished you had the chance to meet your mother. She abandoned you on the doorstep, they would say whenever you asked about her, your father saved you. It wasn’t until years later that you learned the truth. She never abandoned you—she was threatened, forbidden from stepping foot inside the mansion again. You used to wish she had fought more and taken you with her, but the more you grew, the more you understood. Whatever fury you harboured towards her dwindled like a flame dying on its own.

She didn’t have a choice. You knew firsthand what that felt like. Everything the elders said was law; within these walls, there was no going against them. They saw her as disposable, a lowly commoner who just happened to earn the affection of a nobleman for a night. And dispose of her they did. As the midwife took you away, your mother was sent off to another city in a carriage that never returned. No one spoke of her again. Whether it was by command or a collective agreement, you weren’t sure.

There were times when her name would come up in hushed whispers. Some of them were from your father. You remember being six years old and listening to your father’s drunk mumbling. With a hand on your head, he told you that you looked just like your mother. It was the gentlest he’d ever been with you. But when the inebriation left his system the next morning, your loving father was gone, and the patriarch was back.

His soft tone became harsh once again. His eyes burned with hatred. It was as if everything was just a dream. It might as well have been. You chalked it up to him having a bad day, just like yesterday and the day before that. Surely he’d be kind to you again if he drank.

He wasn’t.

And as if taking your mother away wasn’t already enough of a mockery, you were constantly reminded that this was not your home. That you were here because you belonged to the clan. You’ve always been. You were already their property from the moment you inhaled your first breath.

Your life was theirs, but even that wasn’t enough.

(You don’t think you’ll ever be.)

A child in a loveless family. Your father thought it wasn’t worth trying to train you, having decided that you were beyond help. Your brothers didn’t see you as someone they had to protect. Your sisters didn’t want to be seen with you. All you had were your grandparents.

With them, you were treated as family. It didn’t matter to them that you didn’t have what your siblings did. They loved you.

You spent mornings in the apothecary room with your grandmother, learning all about herbs and medicine from all around the world. In the afternoon, you’d spend time training with your grandfather in the dojo and listening to his stories of ages past. Then, every evening, you’d spend time with both of them at the temple that they cared for. All of your best memories were made there. When your grandparents inevitably passed, you didn’t hesitate to pick up from where they left off.

Your volunteering to maintain its upkeep seemed to satisfy the elders enough. At least you’ll be useful in something, your father said without batting an eye. You liked to think you’d become numb to all the jabs thrown your way, but you were wrong.

The temple was your getaway, somewhere you could hide from the world and feel more at home than you did in the estate. The smell of flowers and herbs inside the temple, alongside the sight of the sunrise or sunset, never failed to lull you into a state of tranquillity. The voices you’d hear from around you weren’t those of disappointment, but those of birds chirping in a joyous tune. It was the only place you’ll ever feel at peace in. Seeing the names of your grandparents engraved on the stone slabs broke your heart whenever you walked by. You might not grieve any more, but you were still alone.

Ionian faith and tradition flowed in your veins. You were taught about grace by your grandmother and what it meant to be dignified, worthy of respect even without noteworthy achievements. Your grandfather taught you strength and combat so you could protect yourself and others from monsters, both human and unknown. You wouldn’t have gotten the chance to learn the blade elsewhere. He was more than enthusiastic to pass on his knowledge to you. He’d grown weak with age, he said, but you’ve always thought he was the greatest swordsman you know. Aside from the temple, the dojo was where you felt the happiest, but as always, good things never lasted long for you.

In your world, secrets were nearly impossible to have. Spies and traitors lurked in the walls, engraving every decision you made and every word you spoke into their memory. It didn’t take long for your father to find out about the lessons his father had been giving you. In fury, he forbade you from entering the dojo or holding a weapon again and told you that you didn’t deserve to carry on his father’s legacy. Forced to leave behind your passion and descend into monotony, the art of the blade eventually left your mind. Had you just fought back—

No. Not everything was under your control. As long as you were in your father’s home, he would continue to treat you however he liked. The cruel words will keep being said, behind your back and to your face, but you won’t give them the satisfaction. You swore not to let anyone see you at your weakest again. You hated the name that you bear, but you would honour it the way you were taught to. The world might be against you, but there is always a light at the end of the tunnel. Staying hopeful in a place like Ionia was all you could do.

Dawn always comes after dusk. The sun always rises for a new day. You didn’t see why it should be any different for you.

—

Your days got busier as the Spirit Blossom festival approached.

More and more people came to honour their loved ones every day, praying and making offerings to their ancestors for protection. You weren’t sure if you ever attended the festival yourself. You knew of the legends and stories behind it, of its reasons and purposes, but you had only been a bystander. You couldn’t see spirits even if you wanted to anyway, you thought bitterly, so there wasn’t a way for you to see your grandparents again.

‘In the Spirit Blossom festival, the dead reunite with their loved ones until the afterlife calls for them again.’

Whether or not it was possible to see said spirits, it was still hard to ignore the longing in your heart. The cycle of life and death was not unknown (you were more familiar with it than you’d like) but you didn’t think anyone could ever get used to it. You loved deeply, and when the ones you love are taken away from you, you’re left alone with yourself. You weren’t a stranger to partaking in as many tasks as possible to stop needlessly thinking, either. You spent your entire morning doing chores and running errands for this reason. You needed to keep yourself busy so you could drift away just for a little while.

With all of your tasks completed, you had nothing left to do. Leaves were swept into neat piles that the farmers always came to pick up later per routine. It took longer than you would’ve liked, though you supposed it was bound to happen when the workload wasn’t meant for one person, but two. The other shrine maiden had an ‘urgent matter to attend to,’ as her messenger informed you and left. You knew right away she paid him to cover for her. You’d like to think you mellowed out with age, having lived for almost three decades, but you were wrong. You were just as easy to irk as you were as a child.

‘It’s not a good thing to harbour negativity in a sacred place,’ your grandmother’s voice rang in your head, ‘it brings bad luck.’ But there you stood, the most irate you’ve ever been as you wished a terrible week upon the both of them.

Thanks to the tedious work done in all your lonesome, the tile flooring within the temple was spotless. The altar was dusted and reorganised, ready to accept the next batch of offerings. The place smelled more like soap than the usual floral incense you were used to. On any other day, you’d return to your quarters after such a productive time, maybe read a book before you go to sleep, but nature had other plans in store.

The wind howled and rain started to pitter-patter against the rooftop while the sun began its descent. Silhouettes of nature and man-made structures were the only company you had as you made your way back into the prayer room. Away from the rain, you idly watched the world go by from inside. You remembered your grandfather telling you about his battles in a storm and how tumultuous it had been. The retellings of his past exploits were your favourite stories to listen to in your childhood. He travelled through the lands and protected those he held dear with honour. He lived a life of pride and accomplishments that you wanted to have in yours. You still did.

A singular incense stick burnt in the centre of the bowl of ash and sand, its smoke disappearing into the air as it did so. The air grew colder as the sun set, painting the sky in warm hues and your skin in gooseflesh. The storm outside threatened to extinguish the flames within the lantern posts outside. Your uniform robe and long skirt, despite its many layers and the fabric, didn’t aid much in shielding you from the cold. A shiver ran down your spine from the sudden drop in temperature.

If you were asked what you disliked about this time of the year, you would say the weather’s unpredictability as the veil was lifted. The day started pleasantly; the sun was bright and the spring breeze was refreshing. There was no way you could’ve known that there would be a storm approaching.

The doors slammed shut with a loud bang, making you jump in fright and instinctively reach for a sword you no longer owned. You frowned. Years had passed since you last held a weapon, and you weren’t sure if your body had any memory of it at all. If danger were to actually happen, your only means of defence would be the old wooden broom in the corner, which you doubted made for a good weapon. Still, you found yourself keeping it close, your fingers curling tightly around the handle. It was better to be safe than sorry. You were fortunate enough to live in a densely populated area that was well protected, but as typical of an Ionian village, worse things awaited after sunset.

You were a cautious person for as long as you could remember. As optimistic as you tried to be, you weren’t exactly so convinced that there was such a thing as a safe haven. So long as peace exists, so will chaos, and with chaos comes things that are out of your control. You were taught to let things progress the way fate and nature intended them to, to let go of your anxieties because you always worried over ‘nothing.’

But that was easier said than done. You worried for a reason. Everything happens for a reason. Fate weaves the threads of life the way it wants to. The strong are led to lives of fame and power, and the blessed are led to lives of love and fortune. But you weren’t strong or blessed, you were cursed. If the Creator put you on earth for a reason, what is it? What path does fate want you to take, and what did you do in your past life to be put in such a suffocating position?

The anxiety at the pit of your stomach grew stronger the longer you observed the forest and the shadows in between. In the daylight, the temple was comforting and tranquil, picturesque, but it hadn’t occurred to you until then how daunting it was in the dark. It was a quiet night, eerily so, and the floorboards creaked beneath your feet as you padded into the prayer area. Tentatively, you placed the broom down and knelt before the statues of the gods you worshipped. The incense burnt itself down to the base, gradually putting out the flame on its own.

‘If you are afraid, pray. The gods will protect you.’

You weren’t a child anymore. Monsters only existed in stories—there was nothing to be afraid of. But the feeling persisted and it became worse as the door swung open and slammed against the wall. You heard something breathing.

It wasn’t the wind.

A low growl rumbled from the chest of whatever was stalking towards you. An animal of some sort. A predator. Your mind screamed at you to just run, but you were terrified, you couldn’t move and your body just wouldn't listen—

It drew closer.

You were going to die, ripped apart by a monster, and it was going to hurt more than anything ever had. Squeezing your eyes shut, you muttered a prayer under your breath in hopes that it would help. Maybe it was a spirit that couldn’t pass on. If you prayed for it, you could alleviate its pain and then be left alone. You were frantic, the words coming out incoherent as you got tongue-tied and struggled to remember the rest of them. When you felt it breathing down the back of your neck, your voice died in a choked whine. It watched you with hunger and it raised its claws with murderous intent, ready to slash.

It never did.

Instead, you heard the gargling of blood, followed by a clatter on the floor. Your body finally listened and you turned around to see what you could only describe as a demon. The glow in its mask’s eyes dimmed as it died with a sword speared through its chest, inches away from your face. In terror, you watched it bleed as the crimson splattered on your skin. It crumbled into dust as if it was never there. Just like that, it was dead and gone.

The mask dropped where your saviour stood. Wordlessly, he picked it up and attached it to a grotesque belt adorned with similar faces. All you could do was watch as everything slowly sank in. The downpour became louder, heavier. Your ears rang and your body felt numb. The only sound you heard was your ragged breathing as you tried to calm down and think. This must be a nightmare. It had to be. It had to be a hallucination from your paranoia and lack of sleep.

You closed your eyes and opened them again. The man was still standing in front of you.

You weren’t dreaming.

It was all real, from the blood splattered on the ground to the man in front of you. Half of his face was covered by a red mask, more menacing than what the monster had worn. Bandages were loosely wrapped around his torso and his arms, revealing some of his pale skin and scars from what could only be combat.

You weren’t dreaming.

A monster you had never seen tried to kill you and you were lucky enough that this man came to save your life. It felt as though your mind stopped entirely. You didn’t know where to start. Were you supposed to ask about the monster or ask about him?

You decided on the latter. “How did you know it was here?”

A beat of silence passed, and then he spoke.

“It is my curse to bear.”

That didn’t really answer your question. You attempted to ask again, but one glance at his face made you realise that he didn’t care about answering them. It was essentially impossible to tell what he was thinking and you’d rather not agitate someone as intimidating as him.

“Thank you,” you opted to say instead.

Your gaze landed on the swords in his hands. Blood was still dripping off of the red blade that seemed to be glowing. If his mask was menacing, his blades were worse—you had never seen anything quite like them.

He didn’t respond. All he gave you was a nearly imperceptible nod, a sign of acknowledgement. Seemingly satisfied with his kill, he made the move to leave, and your thoughts ran rampant. You wanted answers, an explanation, anything to make sense out of what happened.

You should let him go. You should run home before you encounter another one of those things again when you’re not as lucky, but you didn’t.

“Wait!” you called out, louder than you intended. “Teach me how to fight.”

He stopped in his tracks, then slightly looked back at you. The action had you fidgeting nervously. There was a gut feeling that he was going to say—

“No.”

You needed him to teach you. He was strong. He knew what those things were and how to kill them. He could help you. If that thing could come in here so easily, undeterred by the protective runes and wards placed around the temple, another could do it again. You couldn’t afford to let this place get destroyed because of your inability to defend it. You needed to protect your grandparents’ memory, a small sliver of their legacy that you were allowed to touch. You had to.

The chance was falling out of your hands right in front of you. Your confidence wavered, but you tried again. “I… I’ll pay you. Just name your price.”

“Money has no value to me.”

“Please?” Your voice was quieter, more hesitant. “This place, it’s… It’s all I have left. I need to protect it.”

“I can’t,” he said. “I have a duty I must fulfil.”

“Please—wait!”

This time, he didn’t spare you another glance as he walked off into the night, leaving you afraid and alone with the monster’s blood still on your skin.

—

No matter how many years passed, Yone’s hands would always be stained in blood.

The village was different from what he remembered. He knew of it when it was in flames and scattered with bodies of the brave. With what little time it had after the war, the village has been rebuilt from the disaster that the Noxians left behind. It was stronger, safer, liberated from their clutches. More swordsmen and warriors were patrolling the area, all bearing the crest of the clan that owned the village itself.

That didn’t. The clan of where men were raised to be elite warriors and women were raised to be the most adept of mages, known for their noble blood and valiance. Their estate was fortified and bigger than it used to be, looming over the smaller houses that unsurprisingly didn’t get as much protection. What seemed to be the most protected, though, was the temple. It was known to be a sanctuary to the villagers and the most important value to them was faith. Seeing said sanctuary well-protected wasn’t a shock. It was always that way.

As a child, he used to visit the temple on particularly rough days. Sometimes, his brother would come along, and they’d go find the master swordsman who took care of it with his wife, the shrine maiden. His brother in particular enjoyed hearing all about the swordsman’s stories, inspired by his strength and bravery that remained well into his older years. His wife was stern but motherly to all, more doting towards children than adults.

They weren’t like the rest of the clan who looked down on the weak; they loved. They loved their home, they loved their fellow men, and they loved the world. The people loved them, too. He loved them, just like they loved this sanctuary they built.

Yone stepped into the courtyard. Though it was past sunset, he could see that the place was much greener. More flowers had grown since then and the spring was well-maintained. He thought that the temple remained the most welcoming place he ever found himself in. It was clear that whoever was taking care of this place did it with the same love that the elderly couple had. He spotted their names on the stone slabs written in gold. There wasn’t just one bouquet on their grave, but several. Well-loved even after death as they deserved.

As he approached the main building, he sensed it—danger lurking within, undoubtedly the work of a monster he was all too familiar with. The wooden doors were broken and splintered. Cautiously, he stepped inside. True to his suspicion, at the end of the hall was an azakana hunched over someone, its grotesque mass a stark contrast to the pristine state of the walls as it growled and breathed heavily. His swords glinted in the light of the moon as he drew them.

Yone’s kills were clean and precise. He didn’t need to destroy his surroundings to prove his strength, nor did he think that he was destructive to that extent. As disciplined in life, as disciplined in death, and even more so in between. His physiology was wholly different from what it had been when he was alive. His being alone defied life itself.

He felt weightless, numb yet still in full control of his body as he moved into the prayer room, his footsteps not making a single sound. He heard what sounded like crazed muttering from where the azakana stood, something akin to pleading or perhaps a prayer. The azakana raised its hand. Its talons grew longer and sharper, prepared to strike whoever it was hiding. Before it could, Yone pierced his blade through its heart, silently watching as it disintegrated back into nothing but ashes and dust on the ground.

“How did you know it was here?” you asked, still struggling to catch your breath.

He was silent for a while as he picked up the mask it left behind and pinned it to his belt as proof of yet another successful hunt. You were staring up at him with teary eyes, still shaken from being so close to death’s grasp. He didn’t want to alarm you—he knew he looked ghastly—but you were obviously different from what he was. You were alive, vulnerable, and from the way you quivered like a leaf, you had never encountered one of those things before.

“It is my curse to bear,” he replied smoothly. A practised response, one that he hoped would be all you asked for. Yone knew it didn’t answer your question. As if you had more questions—you most likely did; he didn’t blame you for that—you parted your lips to speak, but no words came out.

Slightly defeated, you exhaled and gave him a small smile. “Thank you.”

Yone glanced at you. Your face felt familiar to him like you were an old friend he hadn’t seen in years. You must be related to the previous caretakers somehow. The resemblance you had with them was striking. The way you spoke was timid, unlike the boisterous master swordsman or the confident shrine maiden. It didn’t bother him. If he was like you, defenceless in your position, he would’ve acted the same way. You seemed to be calming down with each breath you took, making him relax just the slightest. You weren’t harmed.

Aside from the azakana’s blood, tonight, his hands were clean, and he wouldn’t need to repent.

He decided to leave. There was no reason why he should stay for any longer. The sooner he could find the other stray malevolent spirits, the safer his childhood home would be. Things like him didn’t have the privilege of resting. He didn’t need it. Before he made it past the door, you called out for him, forcing him to stop in his tracks.

“Teach me how to fight.”

He didn’t hesitate. “No.”

“I… I’ll pay you. Just name your price.”

You looked less and less confident with each passing second. Dealing with stubborn people wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for him. He grew up with Yasuo—he was more than used to it. He pursed his lips.

“Money has no value to me.”

“Please.” Yone should’ve been out for the next hunt by now, but there was something in your voice that kept him staying where he was. “This place, it’s… It’s all I have left. I need to protect it.”

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to help you. He wanted to protect what he could too. It just… wasn’t for him. He thought you’d be better off learning from a master. Surely you could go to the dojo that your clan owned?

“I can’t,” he replied, realising that he had left you hanging. “I have a duty I must fulfil.”

He didn’t look back this time. The cold air of the night greeted him as he stepped out and put his swords back in their sheaths. The rain washed away the blood and its remnants on the stones beneath his feet. The skies seemed to be clearer than they were earlier. The moon and stars glowed brightly in the darkness, illuminating the paths before him. There was a nagging feeling in his chest that he hadn’t felt in a very long time. Something was off—were there more azakana hiding in the area? He decided he’d patrol the forest one more time before moving on elsewhere.

He left without a trace, just like a ghost like him always did.

—

You started to carry a dagger with you wherever you went.

It wasn’t a naginata or ootachi like you were trained to use, but it made you feel safer to have something you can defend yourself with. Thankfully, the temple wasn’t damaged too badly, though it would still take some time to repair. One of the older mages dropped by and offered to cast a protective seal, which you gladly accepted.

“Miss?” you asked, fidgeting nervously as she finished up her work.

She hummed. “Yes, dear?”

“Is the… The veil, is it already open?”

“It should be by now.” She contemplated for a bit. “I will say, it wasn’t this disastrous last year… I assume it’s because the magical energy is stronger this time around. Don’t worry, dear—nature will have adapted to it by now.”

“I see. Thank you,” you chirped. “I’m more worried about the temple getting attacked or broken than anything… I can’t see spirits the same way you can. I won’t be able to protect myself.”

“The seal will keep out malevolent entities.” She placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. Then she lowered her voice as if she was worried someone would hear her. “Was this really done by the storm? I could feel something strange in the air when I came here.”

You hesitantly shook your head. “There was a monster. It broke in and some—something else killed it.”

“What did it look like?”

“I was too scared to look,” you said apologetically, “but it was wearing a mask.”

“A mask?”

“It looked like a demon. The same ones in stories I used to read as a child.”

The mage frowned. “We’ll need a stronger seal than the one I put here, then.”

“Do you know what they are?”

“They’re called azakana. They are demons,” she explained. “You’re really lucky to have made it out alive. Those creatures are ruthless. They’ll stop at nothing.”

Azakana. You didn’t think you heard of them. You weren’t allowed in the magic library. Your grandparents didn’t like going into detail about the unknown, said it was just hearsay. You never got to explore the world the same way they did. All you knew in your entire life was the estate. You contemplated sneaking into the library to learn about everything that was kept from you, but there were bigger matters at hand.

“How do I stop them?”

“You kill them before they kill you,” she answered wryly. “I’ll do all I can to help keep the temple safe, but I can’t guarantee your protection.”

You had a busy afternoon ahead of you—more errands to run, more favours to do—so you couldn’t stay for long. With a polite goodbye, you went your own way, her words echoing in your mind all the while. You’d have to retrace your steps and learn to fight by yourself. The thought of how ridiculous you’d look training alone made you grimace. But she was right; it was kill or be killed. You wouldn’t always be as fortunate as you were a few days prior.

You idly swung the empty basket in your hand as you walked through the estate. The gardens look much better now. The hedges were trimmed, wilted flowers were removed, and the pond was clear. You couldn’t believe a storm just happened. The weather seemed to have settled for good, too. It was a warm and sunny day, the perfect weather for you to collect herbs and flowers for the village apothecary. She had become more frail with age, and considering her station isn’t too far from the temple, you offered to do the job for her. In your pocket was a written list of what she needed. It was nothing too difficult to find.

You were about to leave until you heard your name coming from someone in the meeting room. The doors were closed, but the walls were thin enough for you to be able to hear through them.

“—a leftover person,” a voice said—you recognised it as your uncle’s. “Past the age of marriage, but it could still be an option.”

Your heart dropped. You hid behind a wall, your fists clenched tightly around the handle of the basket as you tried to calm down and stay quiet lest you get caught eavesdropping.

Another voice chimed in. “—offspring would be cursed as well. Are you sure you don’t want to set up an arranged marriage? It’s been years—”

“Being constantly reminded of a mistake I made nearly thirty years ago is quite irritating, councillor,” came the unmistakable haughty voice of your father. “I said no. I refuse to tarnish our family name.”

You should be used to this. The cruel words, the hatred, the anger, but you can’t, no matter how much you’ve tried. It’s not as if you’re unaware of your power or lack thereof. It’s been said to you time and time again: you were weak, you were nothing.

“—what about training? It could help with getting started,” a feminine voice added. You weren’t surprised that she was the only one who was less harsh with her words talking about you so far. She of all people would know how you felt.

“Out of the question,” your father replied snidely. “Our mages and swordsmen are all pure-blooded. The bastard doesn’t deserve the honour of being one of them.”

Their words slipped through your ears. You were no longer listening; instead, you bit down on your lip and tried to hold back tears. How could someone hate their flesh and blood so much? How could he take everything away from you so easily? Not caring that they would hear you, you stormed out the gates while harshly wiping away your tears with your hands. Knowing them, they probably wanted you to.

You ran and pushed past strangers, unbothered by the concerned and irritated looks you were given. You ran until you found yourself deep in the forest, far enough so you could be left alone. Everything you tried to hold back then burst. You wailed, nails digging into your skin and your body wracked with sobs. The sound of water flowing down the stream slowly but surely calmed you down. The sobs eventually became quiet sniffles until they stopped entirely. Your tears dried on their own and you could finally breathe again.

Looking up from your hands, your gaze drifted to a fawn across the river. It lovingly nudged its mother with its head, stumbled a bit as it tried to keep up with her pace. The sight warmed your heart. It was always nice to see beings, human or animal, be gentle to one another. You hoped to be in that position someday.

A twig snapped behind you. Alarmed, you reflexively grabbed your dagger and whipped around, but the threat you were going to say died on your tongue when you saw who it was. The masked man—the one who saved you from the azakana—stood before you, huffing at you as if he found something funny.

“I’m not here to hurt you.”

You glowered at him with furrowed brows before hesitantly relaxing, putting the dagger back in its sheath. “What are you doing here?”

“The dojo.”

“What?”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Did you not ask me to teach you how to fight?”

“I did, but…”

You bit the inside of your cheek. It was kind of him to seek you out again to tell you this, but you weren’t sure how you felt. Part of you wanted to say yes, to learn to protect yourself and others. The bigger part of you already felt defeated. You could only be tough for so long before you started to break.

“Thank you for reconsidering,” you said. You meant it. “But I’m not allowed there.”

“Not allowed?”

“My father is quite a stickler for the rules.” You chuckled humorlessly. “Only his sons are allowed in that dojo. The ones with noble blood, not the bastards. Take a guess where I fall between those two.”

He mulled over your words for a bit. Then he said, “Tell me your preferred weapon.”

You blinked dumbly. “Huh?”

“Your stance. It doesn’t belong to someone who uses a dagger.”

You supposed it made sense for someone like him to know something that even you didn’t notice. Awkward as he might be, it was evident that he was passionate about what he knew. A man of honour and discipline, a dual wielder with effortless lethality. You wondered how someone like him wasn’t revered and well-known the same way that the bladesman from Wuju and the blade dancer of Navori were. You broke the silence with a noise of disbelief. How strange, indeed.

“My grandfather thought I was best suited for a naginata, so that’s what he trained me in as a child,” you told him. “I don’t think I remember anything, though. It’s been a very long time.”

“You do,” he cut in. “No one forgets the art of the blade. Your mind may not remember, but your body does.”

“That’s very kind of you to say… Thank you,” you responded, smiling softly at him, “but what made you change your mind? I thought you had your… duty.”

“I do, but helping you can also be one of them,” he replied bluntly. “You have something you want to protect. As did I.”

You tried not to think too much about why he said it like that. It was not your place to pry, but you had always been a curious one. He must have lost something or someone along the way. For someone so stoic, he didn’t hide the regret in his tone well.

You glanced at him, deciding to end your train of thought before you slipped up and said something you regretted. “Are you sure you want nothing in return?”

“I only ask for your name.”

Heat rushed to your face. It was an incredibly mundane thing to ask for, normal for people who were getting to know each other to do. His forwardness caught you off guard, made you lose your balance for a moment. You cleared your throat and gave him your name, which he repeated quietly to himself.

He nodded at you. “My name is Yone.”

Yone grabbed a bamboo stick (where did he even get that from?) and tossed it your way, visibly pleased when you managed to catch it with ease.

“Well, then, let us begin.”

—

You developed a new routine since you started training with Yone.

In the morning, you took care of the temple, which you said was ‘good as new.’ In the afternoon, you helped the apothecary with preparing medicine. In the evening, when everyone went home, you trained by the riverside with Yone. Then, at night, he walked you home per your request.

For someone who was adamant that they forgot everything, you got familiar with the blades quite easily. You were a quick learner, he noticed. He didn’t understand why you thought so lowly of yourself. He didn’t understand how your family could hate someone like you. From first glance, he knew that you were kind. Stubborn, but a great listener. Thoughtful, quick-witted, and gentle even with those who didn’t treat you the same way.

It had taken a while, but you started to be more confident in yourself as well. You hesitated less. He could see you rising up the ranks in the dojo quickly; you just needed encouragement and practice. It didn’t make sense to him why your father was dead set on restricting you from everything.

No matter, Yone thought. His heart swelled with pride every time he saw you. You didn’t even seem to realise that you were nothing like your family said you were. As much as he wanted you to know that, he wasn’t good with words. On top of his unfamiliarity with comfort or praise, he also didn’t know where his relationship with you stood. You weren’t friends, you weren’t strangers, but you weren’t distant like acquaintances would be. Regardless, he didn’t want to overstep. All he could do was hope that you’d understand him.

Steel clashed against each other as you parried his attacks. Something was different, like you weren’t completely there. He was proven right when he managed to pin you down to the floor, the edge of his sword hovering only a breath away from your neck.

“You faltered,” he said more as a statement than a question. “You can not hesitate in a fight.”

You averted your gaze from his intense stare. Were you afraid of him?

“I’m sorry.”

“We should stop for today.” He smoothly rose to his feet and offered you a hand, helping you up. “Is something wrong? You seem distracted.”

“The festival is tomorrow,” you murmured. “But I’ll be alright.”

“You don’t wish to participate in it,” he finished for you.

You gave him a strained smile. “I can’t. I just… can’t.”

Abruptly, you pulled your hand away from his and squeaked out an apology. He hadn’t noticed they were still joined together, but there was a strange feeling pulling at his chest when you let go. Still, he didn’t say anything, choosing to let the conversation end there. He knew what it was like to lose someone. Rebirth might have changed him, melded him into stone, but some things could break through and get to him.

(He hadn’t known it then, but you were one of them.)

“I’ll… see you tomorrow, then,” you said hesitantly. “I should go back.”

He nodded. “I understand. Get home safe.”

You looked as though you wanted to say something else, lips parted and eyes curious, but you didn’t. Instead, you smiled at him—softer this time, less strained—and left without a word. As you faded into the distance, Yone sighed quietly and sat down on the grass, his swords laid next to him. He didn’t want to take you away from your other responsibilities; he knew fully well that you were quite dutiful as he was. He’d gotten so used to spending evenings with you, training and listening to you talk about whatever was on your mind that your absence felt off.

Though you were sure that you weren’t going to join in the festivities tomorrow, you most likely had to help out somehow. From what you told him about your family, he doubted that they’d leave you alone as well, taking the chance of reuniting with loved ones to look down on you. His lips tugged into a frown. Feelings weren’t exactly his strong suit since his new life began, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t understand how you would feel.

The breeze caressed his skin, taking him in its cold embrace. The drop in temperature didn’t bother him. It never had, really. He was more than used to how inconsistent the Ionian climate could get. So what was this weariness and uneasiness clouding his mind? Lingering somewhere between life and death, feelings were the least of his concerns, but he didn’t like what it was doing to him as he thought about you.

He stared at the moon’s reflection in the river. It did the same thing not long ago when you sat together and talked to him about your fondest memories. It was the first time you were so open with him. He listened to your stories, your laughter and the bittersweet tinge in your voice.

He saw a spirit walking hand-in-hand with another person somewhere not too far from where he was. A festival meant for reuniting with their loved ones, the only chance spirits and humans got to see each other again. He didn’t have anyone to visit—even if he did, he doubted he could bring himself to face someone he had failed years ago.

His thoughts wandered back to you and what you told him about your grandparents. It was a relief to find out that they never changed even after the war, having stayed the same loving people until their end. A thought popped into his head. If he could just find them—no, he could.

He knew their names. He knew them.

He wasn’t a magic user, but he was confident in his ability to search. Reinvigorated, he grabbed his swords and got up. Pondering under the stars would have to wait, he had a mission to do.

The only advantage to being something he was, Yone thought, was that fatigue was never an issue. He traversed through the plains, made his way up the hill, taking every twist and turn he could think of. Not wanting to risk being seen by civilians—he wasn’t exactly unaware of how… appalling he looked—he stayed in the shadows, hiding in the darkness. After what seemed like a few hours, he finally spotted the silhouettes of your grandparents, distant but familiar.

“Yone? Is that you?” your grandfather said in disbelief, his tone still full of the same joy it had whenever he spoke to Yone and his brother. His eyes crinkled as he beamed at the younger man. “I haven’t seen you in… in years! You’ve changed!”

Your grandmother was less boisterous, though it was clear she felt happy to see him as well. Upon taking a proper look at him, her face fell, and she approached him with a concerned expression.

“It’s far too early for you to be like this,” she sighed. Yone wanted to argue that he wasn’t exactly young anymore, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. “What happened?”

“It… is a long story,” Yone replied, his voice lacking the same strength and volume it had earlier in the day. Grief was such a fickle thing. He’d feel nothing one moment and everything in the next. He didn’t mourn himself, never had nor did he ever think it was necessary, but he did regret. Regretted being unable to protect his family, regretted being unable to protect your family. The curse laid upon him gave him the chance to atone, and even then, it never eased the chains wrapped around his soul.

He shook his head, pushing the thoughts aside. “I have a favour to ask of you.”

—

Yone was acting suspiciously.

To start, when you arrived at the clearing of the forest you usually trained with him, he wasn’t there. You didn’t know how long you waited until he arrived, offhandedly apologising for his tardiness. The sky had already faded into dark shades of blue, the sun nowhere to be seen and replaced with the moon peeking over the horizon. It might have been immature of you to scold him while being as huffy as a petulant child, but he didn’t seem to mind.

The day didn’t start out well for you, to say the least. The only things spoken around town were how excited people were to see their late relatives again and how much they looked forward to spending time with them for the next three days. It wasn’t like you wanted to feel bitter about it all. You were glad on their behalf, but the feeling of being the odd one wasn’t something you could control that easily. You wanted to be able to experience the same magic and happiness the others did.

As if that wasn’t enough, a councillor—likely the same one you overheard that time—left you a letter summoning you to a meeting the same night. If you didn’t know better, you would’ve kept that in mind and made sure you arrived in time. But you knew what it was going to be about. You were already in a loveless family. A loveless marriage wouldn’t make your life better and the only one benefiting from it was your father. You didn’t exactly like being spiteful (it’s a sin, a monk would say) but there was nothing wrong with it if they deserved it, was there? You ripped the paper to shreds, threw it out somewhere you couldn’t remember. It didn’t matter as long as you got rid of it.

There were a lot of things to be angry about, like how irritating it was to still be under your father’s control as an adult, or how they all never broke their habit of speaking as though you weren’t there. It didn’t mean you liked being angry. You weren’t built for such aggression.

You shook your head. Now wasn’t the time to be thinking about this.

“You’re late.” You didn’t mean to say it as whiny as you did. Overly aware of how you sounded, you looked away from Yone and crossed your arms over your chest, ignoring whatever reaction he had to it. “I’ve been here for hours.”

“I’m sorry. I… had something to attend to,” he said. “I have something to show you. Follow me.”

Without realising it, you pouted. “And you have the nerve to boss me around…”

Yone’s silence made you begrudgingly glance at him again. He looked anxious, which was a surprise—you always saw him so calm and collected. It was… concerning. You sighed. He didn’t seem like he meant to leave you waiting for so long. Heaving out a quiet sigh, at last, you relented.

“Fine. Lead the way.”

The walk was quiet. You had a bunch of questions in your mind, both from curiosity and a bit of pettiness you had left. He deftly navigated through the woods, turning back once in a while to see if you were still following him. It was dark, almost as dark as it had been when you met him in that storm for the first time, but you weren’t as afraid anymore, either. You couldn’t describe it. Something about him felt safe. It could be that it was because he saved you from death and helped you become stronger. You didn’t think that was it, though.

You caught up to him, now walking beside him rather than behind. “Where are we going?”

He didn’t answer. You huffed. Fine.

But you couldn’t stay annoyed for long. You found your gaze drifting over to him; the curves of his mask, the clenching of his jaw. How was it possible for someone who scared you so much when you first met to also be someone who you’d trust with your life? You knew nothing about him. He was a strange person, impeccable swordsmanship aside. He never spoke about his family or his home. He was familiar with the village like he lived here before, but you’d never seen him. Just who was he?

Yone led you to a cliffside. The trek—how wasn’t he tired?—felt worth it in the end when you saw the night sky. The crescent moon smiled at you from her place among the scattered stars, sparkling and glowing brightly on what would normally be pitch black. A hand was placed on the small of your back, taking you by surprise and making your breath hitch before you relaxed. It was just him.

“I brought you a gift,” he said plainly. You narrowed your eyes at him. He didn’t look like he was one for gifts, but who were you to decline? It must be a reward or something, or an apology because you were left for hours—

Someone called your name. A familiar voice, one you hadn’t heard in years. You must be imagining it. They were dead, there was no way it could be. Were you so tired that you were imagining things?

“They’ve been waiting for you.” Yone gently pushed you forward. “Go.”

Sceptical as you were, once again, you relented.

The figures were clearer the closer you approached. You recognised the clothes, the voices—was this a prank? Would someone like Yone play such a cruel joke?

“You’ve grown so much,” came the voice of your grandmother, laced with a tenderness you’d recognise from anywhere.

“How…” you trailed off. Your grandparents stood in front of you, happiness radiating off of them in waves as they walked your way. You didn’t know what to think, what to feel. Weren’t they supposed to be dead? Were you hallucinating? “I don’t understand…”

“It’s us, kiddo.” Your grandfather placed a hand on your head, ruffling your hair affectionately. It was cold, but it felt real, too real. “We came to see you.”

You fell apart. Tears sprung to your eyes as you fell into their arms, broken sentences and wailing leaving you at its will. It was real. You didn’t understand it. You weren’t supposed to be able to see them, to see spirits—you didn’t have that gift, your father always made sure you knew that. So how was this possible? How could you see them, touch them, feel them?

“We tried to come find you every year,” your grandmother spoke, her voice as soft as a whisper. “But we—we couldn’t come in. The estate, it’s… locked away from us.”

“You left me,” you snivelled, “you left me here—you…”

You didn’t know what you were saying anymore. Giving up on trying to voice your thoughts, you kept crying until you grew weary, the devastated weeping gradually dissolving into shaky breaths. You felt her hand on the top of your head, lovingly smoothing down your hair as she hummed the tune she always sang to you when you were young. Your grandfather leaned down to press a kiss to your temple, chuckling under his breath—they were as overjoyed as you were.

“We can’t stay for long,” he murmured. “But we really wanted to see you. That young man helped us. Quite the man you’ve found, hm?”

“He’s just a friend,” you grumbled. As cross as you were with him earlier, you were thankful that he’d done this for you. There were many unanswered questions you had lingering in the back of your mind, but those weren’t that important anymore, you thought. Finally pulling away, you smiled for the first time that night. “I missed you.”

“We missed you too, sweetheart.” Your grandmother returned the gesture, brushing your stray tears away with her thumbs. “Why don’t you come sit with us, tell us what you’ve been up to?”

As you followed them, you turned to look back at Yone, mouthing ‘thank you’ with another smile. He nodded. You learned to pick up on his cues in the past month you spent with him, so you knew what he meant. You’re welcome. He wasn’t the best with words, preferring to let his actions speak for themselves. You wondered if he knew how important this was, how you’d always remember his kindness.

Lost in conversation with your loved ones, you missed how Yone’s stern expression melted into fondness as he watched the scene, the corners of his lips curling up just the slightest. It was the happiest he’d ever seen you.

(And it was the moment he knew—he’d do whatever it took to protect your smile.)

—

Existing somewhere in a plane between life and death, Yone spent his days on autopilot with only one goal in mind. Cursed for as long as his afterlife would last by the azakana, he’d continue to hunt them down one by one until there was nothing left. He saw his ‘life’ differently, ‘felt’ differently.

Bound to the world of the living, denied the peace of death, as he used to say. Time was no longer so important to him now that he became what he was. It passed as it willed, and he would only follow until it was over—assuming it would ever be. Yone didn’t care—or rather, he just tried not to think—about the state of life, the meaning of his existence. If he was bound to duty, at least he’d try to accomplish this one, unlike what he failed in his youth.

He should have left Ionia when he killed the last azakana in that temple. But more and more showed up every day, dangerously close to where you lived, and he knew that they would come find you again eventually. Deciding to take your request wasn’t an impulsive decision. He found your determination admirable even with the chains that held you back. It reminded him of who he had been. Who he craved to be once again. He tried to keep himself distant, staying within the boundary of just a kind stranger, but before he knew it, he found himself feeling tethered to you.

You weren’t just someone he saved. You were someone he had grown increasingly fond of. Yone knew you were kind, that you had a lot of love to give even to those who didn’t deserve it. He believed in his ability to predict what would happen, to adapt to sudden changes, but nothing could’ve prepared him for the whirlwind that was you.

For the first time in years, he felt alive, and it was all because of you. Your smile, your voice, the way you’d playfully talked back to him, the way you were always concerned for him. That much still held true as he sat beside you on a hill, his gaze focused on you over the sunrise you meant to show him.

He didn’t expect you to invite him to something that could be seen as so intimate. He didn’t expect himself to agree without a second thought either. He prided himself on being someone who always thought before he did anything, but something about you had him caving into his whims more frequently. He’d find that irritating if he was the same young man he used to be, but he didn’t. If he was bold enough, maybe he’d go as far as to admit that he liked how you made him feel.

It seemed his gift for you had changed you overnight. You weren’t mad at him anymore; if anything, you seemed to be more gentle with him. Like you saw him differently. He didn’t want to assume you did—that would be unfair to you.

This was what made it difficult for him to leave.

He couldn’t stay here for long. Fate would guide him to other places, more obscure and dangerous, and as much as he felt like he overstayed his welcome with you, he didn’t want to go. He didn’t know if he’d get the chance to see you again, to talk to you again. Getting attached to what could be temporary wasn’t a smart idea—he knew that. But for once, he wanted to let himself live again.

Seeing your face fall when he told you about his imminent departure was, perhaps, the worst he ever felt. He lived through countless battles; the scars on his hands proved that. He didn’t lose his senses even with his state of being a ‘ghost’ of sorts. He still felt the sting of a cut, the aches in his muscles after exerting himself. Emotions, on the other hand, were more complicated. Growing up with his brother, he had to be stern, calm and confident. He had to be assertive. He had to be strong.

With you, he could let all of that go. He wouldn’t lose his habits, he didn’t want to, but with you, he could let his guard down.

��Yone?” you broke the silence. He blinked, suddenly overly aware that he had been staring at you like a fool in love. Maybe he was. “Are you alright?”

“I am. I’m sorry for worrying you,” he responded. “I was only… thinking of the future.”

“You’re leaving soon, aren’t you?”

“I am.”

You went silent. He frowned, wondering if he should’ve kept it a secret after all. He didn’t want to hurt you. He never did.

“Well, if you decide to come back here one day,” you said, reaching for his hand. Your skin felt warm against his own. “Just know that I’ll be here waiting for you.”

Yone felt like time and the world stopped for him.

“I know I’m a lot to handle.” He didn’t think you were. Still, he didn’t interrupt, letting you speak your mind. “And I know this is just some favour, but you know… I’ve grown pretty fond of you. I’d be sad if you left without telling me.”

Your tone was lighthearted, playing off your words as if they were only a joke in case he didn’t feel the same. He felt warm—the warmest he’d ever been—and he was never one to be timid, but you always managed to bring that out of him with ease.

Yone said your name. You hummed, urging him to continue.

“You should be proud of yourself,” he said. The words felt unfamiliar to him, foreign, but he needed you to know. “Like I am of you.”

You smiled. He wanted to engrave this sight into his memory, make it something he would never forget. You teasingly nudged him with your elbow, giggles leaving your throat as you replied without missing a beat, “So you’ve grown fond of me too, huh?”

This was the most casual you had ever been with him. It was a nice change, he thought, one that he really liked. In a matter of a few weeks, you’d gone from a meek, terrified person into someone confident and much happier than you were when he first met you.

“I have, indeed,” he replied. Perhaps more than I should.

With another chuckle, you fell back into a silence that was tranquil this time, more comfortable. He wondered if it was obvious that he was staring at you—he was trying not to be, but he was always told his gaze was intense. It didn’t seem to be an issue with you. Sighing in contentment, he let his eyes wander back to the sunrise before him. The last day of the Spirit Blossom was fast approaching, which meant that you’d once again find yourself in a busy schedule. But he didn’t have to think about that, so he stopped. Instead, he let himself indulge in this rare moment with you, thinking of nothing but how much things have changed. How much he has changed.

You never let go of his hand. Neither did he.

—

“Will you be going back too? To the spirit world?”

He did say he would be leaving, after all. You weren’t really sure what you’d do if he left. His presence had become something you were accustomed to. Since the moment he found you again in the forest, your routine seemed to have more and more of him. It would feel odd, having something you were so used to just disappear so suddenly. You knew you’d get over it, but you didn’t want to.

“I’ll be staying in the human world,” he said, “only elsewhere.”

A selfish part of you wanted him to stay. You liked having him around. With him, you could forget all about the people who shunned you. Your initial lack of strength or inability to use magic never bothered him; he saw you for who you were, treated you like any person should be treated. You weren’t lying when you told him that you’ve grown fond of him—you truly did.

No, you didn’t want him to leave. But he had to;

“I see,” you whispered. “I guess this is goodbye, then.”

The longer he took to reply, the more anxious you became. The familiar stinging of your nose and the watering of your eyes had you trying to hide your face from him. You promised yourself you wouldn’t cry. A quiet whimper was all you let slip before you held back the onslaught of tears. You didn’t want him to think you were strange. Someone who got more attached to him than they should’ve. Someone lonely, desperate for company.

“Would you like to join me?”

Even with his mask on, you could still feel Yone’s gaze on you.

“What?” you echoed dumbly. You must’ve misheard him. You could’ve sworn you just saw his lips twitch like he was amused by something. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve said before that the only thing stopping you from leaving was your fear,” he continued. “You’ve become stronger. You fight well, by yourself and by my side. We might also be able to find your mother if we travel together. And, I…”

He trailed off, seemingly to collect his thoughts before he added, quieter, “I enjoy being with you.”

Flustered, you couldn’t say a word. It took a while before you could properly process what he said.

“You mean…”

“Yes. I’d like you to come with me.” He cleared his throat, hesitating as if he was nervous. “You can decline if you’d—”

Yone was cut off by you tackling him into a hug, nearly sending him falling backwards had he been unable to keep his balance. You buried your face in his neck, smiling against his skin before you pulled away to properly look at him. Seeing how close you were made your eyes widened, and you were about to pull away before he leaned down to kiss you softly, which you melted into with ease.

Hesitantly, he pulled away. You could’ve sworn he was blushing. “I assume that’s a yes…?”

“You already know what I meant, Yone.” You grinned, unable to resist the urge to tease him. “You just want me to say it.”

“Well, it… would confirm my thoughts.”

“Of course, it’s a yes!”

“I must warn you it won’t be easy,” he hesitated, giving you another chance to say no. Like he couldn’t believe that you wanted to join him. “So if you don’t want to come, you don’t have to… Why are you laughing?”

“I mean it, you old fool,” you teased.

“Old fool—”

“I would love to come with you.” You curled into his side, laying your head on his shoulder as you watched the river flow in front of you. “I’m not scared anymore. I have you.”

Yone pulled you closer, leaving a ghost of a kiss on the crown of your head. “And I have you.”

It felt like something straight out of a fairytale. You were going to leave this wicked place with someone you fell in love with. You couldn’t believe it was happening, but it was, and your heart raced, not out of fear but out of excitement.

You couldn’t wait for the adventures you’d have together.

#I had default Yone in mind writing this bc I like that design better so I'm sorry if that broke the immersion </3 #all #yone x reader #lol yone x reader #league of legends x reader #lol x reader

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