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thankskenpenders · 3 days ago

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Thoughts on two specific areas of the writing in Sonic X Shadow Generations

The best new 3D Sonic game in over a decade (or even two, depending on who you ask) dropped late last year. And I didn't write anything about it! Sometimes life happens. Well, I've finally sat down to finish Shadow Generations, and by now everyone has already been singing its praises for three months. This is the rare instance where the entire Sonic fandom, and even mainstream reviewers, are in agreement on something. The level design is the best it's been in a long, long time and the cool factor is off the charts, embracing Sonic's peak cringe era in an incredibly confident way. It's great. If you're even reading this post, you probably don't need me to tell you that. So I won't!

No, what I'm really interested in here is the writing. Because this is me we're talking about. But I actually don't want to talk about the main narrative of Shadow Generations, which is really solid little story about Black Doom trying to mold Shadow into his perfect soldier. No, I'd like to zero in on two other aspects of the writing here: the revisions made to Sonic Generations, and Gerald Robotnik's unlockable journal.

The updated Sonic Generations script

The new package mostly presents Sonic Generations how you remember it. There are some tweaks, but it's not a major overhaul. Graphically, I don't think the game has been touched much, if at all. I certainly can't notice any difference without a side-by-side comparison, despite playing it on a PS5. The most notable update is that the game's script has been rewritten by Ian Flynn.

Naturally, this caught my attention. Generations��always had a nothingburger story, so with Ian rewriting Pontac and Graff's lame dialogue there was nowhere to go but up. (I don't like to pin the blame for those games' stories entirely on them, as a ton of it was dictated to them by Sonic Team, but, well, I don't think they're very good dialogue writers.) But it's less a complete rewrite and more like Ian was brought on as a script doctor for some minor touch ups here and there. Many lines of dialogue are completely identical to how they were originally written in 2011, and many others only have slight wording changes. Ian was clearly not allowed to request additional scenes or extend the ones that already existed. He has to match the original beat for beat so that they can reuse 99% of the cutscene animations. Don't expect it to be a whole new experience compared to the original.

Still, I think the new script is an improvement, albeit a minor one. Various things have been tweaked to maintain characterization consistency. Cream calls Sonic "Mr. Sonic" instead of just "Sonic." Instead of calling Sonic "buddy," Rouge uses the pet name "Blue," like she tends to do in things like the IDW comics. Espio doesn't have to remind you in the dialogue that he's a ninja, and he no longer has a line making it sound like he has some kind of soul reading power. I also like that Modern Sonic now actually has responses to what his friends say when he rescues them, rather than being silent like Classic Sonic. They won't blow you away, but they make Sonic feel a little more engaged with everything.

In general, the altered dialogue just seems tighter to me, and some of the more childish or trite wording of Pontac and Graff's script has been altered. Here, let's actually make a direct comparison, just because this stuff is interesting to me as a writer. Here's a couple lines from after the Egg Dragoon fight late in the game, in the original script:

Modern Eggman: Ooooh... I can't believe this! I was supposed to beat you this time. Modern Sonic: Aw, I'm sorry! I didn't get that memo. I beat you every time! [Turns to Classic Sonic] No, seriously, we beat this guy every time. It's like it's our job or something!

This is a simple exchange. Eggman is mad that he lost. Sonic is unflappably confident because he always beats Eggman, and he explains this to his younger self. But the wording here isn't particularly good. Eggman's simple and direct wording makes him come off like a little kid who's mad because his older brother beat him at Mario Kart, rather than a mad scientist who just had his plans foiled. It's making light of the situation.

And I've never liked Sonic saying "It's like it's our job or something!" That doesn't feel like a thing Sonic would say, it feels like a thing an outside observer would say about Sonic. This is a frequent problem with so-called "MCU dialogue," where quips meant to echo the commentary of a casual, somewhat disinterested audience are inserted into the story itself so that the writers can be like "See? We get it. We're genre-savvy, too!" It also just reminds me of bad Sonic Boom: Rise of Lyric lines like "Rings! It's like they're made for me!"

And then here's Ian's rewrite:

Modern Eggman: I recalibrated everything! This was supposed to be my time! Modern Sonic: Oh, please, keep dreamin', Egg-head. I beat you every time. [Turns to Classic Sonic] No, seriously, we beat him every time. Our score card's flawless.

Eggman's still mad about his defeat, but the line "I recalibrated everything!" makes it more specific. He put all this work into the engineering side of his latest scheme and got tunnel vision, thinking if he got his creations just right there'd be no way he could lose. "This was supposed to be my time!" also turns it into a time travel pun, which is a bonus. He's still pitching a fit over losing, but it feels more like Eggman pitching a fit, rather than sounding childish.

And then instead of saying that beating Eggman is "like his job or something," Sonic says he's got a flawless score card against Eggman. He doesn't take Eggman seriously as a threat—at least, not to his face. He acts like it's all a game. But he conveys this in a way that feels truer to the character, rather than feeling like the words of a real world observer poking fun at the tropes of the Sonic series.

Is this amazing, A+ dialogue that blows me away? No. Again, it's not a completely different scene from the one we already had. Ian had to fit the beats of what was already there. He couldn't go all out and write an all new story confirming his longstanding headcanon that the Time Eater is a remnant of Solaris or whatever. But the wording here makes the existing story land a little better and feel truer to the characters in subtle ways.

But to me, the main change is that the Sonics and Tailses seem to have a more solid understanding of what's going on with the timeline and the Time Eater, compared to how idiotic they sometimes seemed in the original game. Which is good! No more standing outside Green Hill and wondering why it seems so familiar. Thank god. As part of this, yes, there are a few more references to past games in the dialogue, like Sonic briefly being confused about the fact that they're time traveling without the Time Stones, or South Island and Westside Island being acknowledged as the normal locations of Green Hill and Chemical Plant. Yes, ha ha, insert joke about how Ian loves references here. Look, it's Sonic fucking Generations. It's a game built entirely out of nostalgic references. Just own it! And, again, in this instance Sonic and Tails come off as less stupid when they make it clear that they do, in fact, remember their adventures from presumably less than a year ago in-universe.

Eggman, too, seems to have a better understanding of the powers he's toying with. Where in the original vesion his focus was simply on going back in time to undo his previous defeats and he seemed kind of oblivious to how much the Time Eater was actually fucking up the universe, here Eggman says he wants to use the Time Eater to give himself complete control over the entire timeline. Eggman also makes way fewer references to his own failures and shortcomings. Of course he won't admit that Sonic has defeated him time and time again. To him, he's never truly lost—Sonic just keeps delaying the inevitable total victory for the Eggman Empire.

So, yes. The new Sonic Generations script is better. It won't blow anyone away, but it's better than it was. It's been elevated from "kinda lame" to "fine." No, if you really wanna see Ian flex his ability to breathe new life into old Sonic stories, look no further than...

Gerald Robotnik's Journal

Hoo boy.

The story of what happened aboard the ARK has always been... a bit confusing, to say the least. Fans with encyclopedic knowledge of the script for every route of Shadow '05 may disagree, but it's the truth. We've had all the pieces to understand the story for a long time now, but that info was given to us out of order by a pair of unreliable narrators—Gerald, who became a vengeful lunatic shortly before his death, and Shadow, who was subjected to multiple rounds of amnesia and altered memories. Some of the ambiguity left by Sonic Adventure 2 was cleared up in Shadow '05, but that game also retconned in a bunch of new elements to Shadow's backstory (aliens!) that lead to further confusion. Not to mention the fact that that game had multiple routes and only revealed the truth about Shadow if you sat on the ultimate final boss battle for WAY longer than the fight would normally last. Or the fact that Sonic X made its own tweaks in its telling of the story. Or the fact that none of these things ever had the best English translations. I can't blame anyone who hasn't played those games in two decades for not remembering the truth about these characters and getting some details mixed up.

What we needed was something to piece together all of the info we have into one coherent backstory, told in chronological order. And thanks to Shadow Generations, we have that, in the form of an official journal tying together what we knew from Sonic Adventure 2, Shadow '05, and Sonic Battle into the tragic tale of Gerald's rise and fall.

Ian Flynn was the perfect man for the job here as the guy who started his career by tidying up the mess that was the first 159 issues if Archie Sonic. This is what he excels at: taking disparate bits of weird Sonic lore from multiple different sources, boiling them down to their most interesting elements, and connecting it together in a way that will make the audience see the dramatic potential he's always known was there. Rather than feeling like a cynical exercise in franchise building, going back and explaining things that never needed explaining so that people can add more bullet points to the wiki, he puts a new spin on things that retroactively enriches those past stories. The story here means something to the characters involved and gives us a better understanding of them as people, rather than as plot devices to motivate Shadow.

(And, of course, Ian didn't do this journal alone. He wrote the story, but I also have to give a huge shout out to Evan Stanley, who made the final product. All of her handwritten journal entries, sketches, and "photos" included throughout. The physical damage done to the journal over the course of 50 tumultuous years, passing from Gerald to Eggman to a certain special someone at GUN. The way Gerald's handwriting gets less and less legible as his mental state declines. So much love was put into what could have been a mere text dump in a menu, and it really elevates it to the next level. Congrats on officially getting hired by Sega, Evan, you've sure as hell earned it!)

The main idea the journal conveys is that Gerald was under a lot of pressure from a lot of different parties—GUN, the President, his colleagues aboard the ARK, Black Doom, even his own family—and boy did it get to him. The known incidents aboard the ARK mentioned in previous games are put together here to form a story where everything slowly spirals out of control as Gerald keeps compromising his morals to further his research, thinking he'll eventually find some way out of all this because he's a genius. I won't recap that whole story here (if you haven't already played the game and read the journal entries, I would highly recommend at least reading it on the Sonic wiki), but I'd like to highlight my favorite elements of the story, as Ian tells it here.

1) The Eclipse Cannon

Here's something that never quite made sense in Sonic Adventure 2: why does the ARK have a laser that can blow up the Earth built into it? It was supposed to be a peaceful research colony. Sure, Gerald went crazy and swore revenge on the Earth, but, like... when did he have an opportunity to go back up to the ARK and modify it? Did he have someone else do it? How? The ARK was raided by GUN and shut down! And then they arrested him, held him in prison for an unclear period of time, and executed him by firing squad when he was no longer useful! It doesn't add up. Shadow 'the Hedgehog '05 would give its own answer by introducing the Black Arms and saying that the Eclipse Cannon was always supposed to be a secret trump card against the Black Comet. But, like... we know that's kind of a bullshit answer, right? You don't need enough power to blow up a whole planet just to destroy a comet.

Well, the new journal retains what we already knew, but it paints a much more complete picture.

See, long before Gerald ever made a Faustian bargain with Black Doom, he had already made one with an even greater evil: the military. GUN gave Gerald much of the funding for the ARK, Gerald's personal utopian research station in space, but it didn't take long for GUN to start pressuring him to design them weapons. Gerald tried to get GUN off his back by personally contacting the President of the United Federation, and the President gave him an alternative: how about, instead, you just use your genius brain to figure out the secret to immortality for us, so our soldiers can be immortal? Gerald was initially sickened by the notion and found it completely absurd, like chasing a shadow... but given no other option, the sarcastically named Project Shadow soon began in earnest. (Maria would later put a more positive spin on the name after Shadow's awakening, pointing out that a Shadow can show us the direction of the light, like she says in the game itself.)

Of course, this search for the ultimate life form didn't go very well, and without any results on that front GUN kept hounding him for weapons. Gerald would throw them a bone here and there to get them off his back. His research on Chaos resulted in the Artifical Chaos prototypes, which he worried would be used for warfare but could at least theoretically be used for search and rescue missions in floods, in his mind. But that wasn't enough. So he gave them Chaos Drives to power their mechs. And that still wasn't enough. He's got Emerl. He'll give them Emerl. They're not impressed by Emerl. They'll shut the whole ARK down if Gerald doesn't give them something big.

Fine! GUN wants something big? Gerald builds a huge fucking laser cannon into the ARK. However, as a middle finger to GUN, Gerald makes it so powerful that it would destroy the Earth if it was ever fired at any target on its surface. In other words, GUN now has their ultimate weapon of mass destruction, fulfilling his contract, but they can never actually use it. Oh, the delicious irony. (And also Shadow will blow up the Black Comet with it in 50 years yada yada yada.) Is this perhaps extremely shortsighted and naive of Gerald, to believe that such a weapon would never actually be used just because of the risk? Of course. But hey, that's Gerald for you. And I love this as an answer.

(Also, this, uh, kinda echoes something from real life! Remember the bit in Oppenheimer where he says all nuclear war will become unthinkable, and Edward Teller responds "until somebody builds a bigger bomb"? Yeah, Teller went on to conceptualize a superweapon codenamed Project Sundial that would have been able to kill all life on the planet, as the ultimate deterrent for war. This was never made for obvious reasons, but hey, there's a basis for this sort of thinking outside of heightened sci-fi! There's a whole Kurzgesagt video about this if you're interested.)

2) The Biolizard

The Biolizard is, of course, brought up as the initial failed prototype of the ultimate life form, from before Gerald met Black Doom. We don't really learn all that much about it that we didn't already know, but I just love the way it's framed in the story.

As you can see above, we actually get to see a picture of Maria holding up the cute little salamander that would end up mutating into the Biolizard through Gerald's experiments. (Researchers want to figure out how to replicate salamanders' regenerative abilities for humans in real life, too, so this was a natural starting point for the project.) And then, after it grows to a monstrous size and goes out of control, Gerald has to lock it away in an unused sector of the ARK. He needs to keep the poor thing alive for his research into harnessing Chaos Energy, building life support systems directly into it, but he doesn't have the heart to tell Maria what happened. So it just becomes this first dark secret weighing on his conscience. The Biolizard becomes Gerald's Tell-Tale Heart beating beneath the floorboards of the ARK. I love that.

3) Lost Impact was the breaking point for the ARK

Remember the level Lost Impact in Shadow '05? The flashback level on the hero path where Shadow is running around fighting Artificial Chaos enemies on the ARK 50 years ago? Yeah, that wasn't just a random incident. That was important, as we now know due to its placement on the timeline.

See, Emerl's rampage aboard the ARK that was chronicled in Sonic Battle and Dark Beginnings set off a domino effect. Emerl riled up the Artificial Chaos, causing Gerald to lose control of them. They became violent, and so Shadow had to stop them, as depicted in Lost Impact. The thing is, that incident sent an SOS signal to GUN telling them that shit was going down on the ARK. Gerald didsn't fully understand the trouble he was in and assumed that he'd simply be reprimanded by the higher ups, or maybe face legal action. But, well... the next time he heard from GUN, armed troopers were raiding the ARK.

So Lost Impact was the straw that broke the camel's back. I just really like that detail.

4) Maria

And, of course, there's Maria herself. Maria has often been more of a symbol than a character, this perfect embodiment of everything that's good and pure in this world who gets killed to motivate Shadow and Gerald's revenge plots. But I really like the wrinkles this journal adds to her and Gerald's story, and their relationship. This is the most fleshed out they've ever felt.

For one, the journal leans into the idea of Maria's intellectual potential. The rest of the Robotnik family is all geniuses, after all, and she was proving to be a really bright kid. She excelled in her studies on the ARK, and she even helped design Shadow's jet skates and inhibitor rings. When Maria died, the world didn't just lose a symbolic personification of purity. She genuinely could have been a hugely influential scientist who did so much good for the world. That's what Gerald wanted for her. But we'll never know, because GUN killed her.

Speaking of her family, their presence isn't just mentioned for the sake of fleshing out the Robotnik family tree. It's mentioned that as Gerald struggled to find a cure for Maria's illness through his genetic research, he faced mounting pressure from his family. They didn't want Maria to be up on the ARK forever. They wanted Gerald to hurry up and find a damn cure, or otherwise just send her back home to Earth so she could be with her family again. She'd been up on the ARK for so long that Gerald's coworkers started thinking that she had been born up there. Eventually she gains a baby sister on Earth who she's never met. A rift forms between Gerald's two sons, and he's unable to really deal with it because he's so consumed by his work. There's this sense that the family is falling apart, and that everyone is dreading the possibility that Gerald will never find a cure and that Maria will just spend her final years up in space and die far away from her family, because Gerald just couldn't let go. If that happens, it'll break the whole family. But he can't stop now. So he just keeps working. Curing Maria is the only way to win his family back, in his eyes. It can't all be for nothing.

But my favorite detail regarding Maria is this one paragraph:

Maria is growing into a lovely young woman. It breaks my heart that someone as bright and energetic as her is diminished by disease. There are no visible effects, and I've caught my fellow researchers muttering to each other, doubting her illness. It is infuriating. I find all my reason and restraint vanishes when she's slighted.

This is SUCH a great addition to the story! It's always been true that Maria doesn't really seem all that ill, just looking at her in cutscenes. With this one little comment, Ian flips that issue on its head and turns it into a story about invisible disability. She doesn't act like she's in chronic pain, so she must not be, everyone thinks. And this really, really gets to Gerald, as does the pressure from his family. He's dedicating his whole LIFE to saving her, and they think she's faking it?! It's such a small addition, never referenced elsewhere in the journal, but it adds so much flavor to the story, as does the implied family drama. It grounds Gerald and Maria and makes them feel more like real human beings, rather than being pure archetypes. It's just enough info to let my imagination run wild filling in the blanks.

You also get the feeling that Maria being such a walking ray of sunshine was the only real source of joy Gerald had left in his life before Shadow was awakened, and the only thing keeping him from snapping under pressure sooner. All this stuff just keeps piling on, everything's spiraling out of control, but at least Maria is keeping her chin up, right? It makes so much sense that losing her would make him go off the deep end when it's framed like this.

It's just... man, I never thought I'd care so much about Gerald and Maria. But that's the Ian Flynn touch. After years of less than stellar Sonic writing that seemed to be embarrassed of itself, I'm so happy to have new games coming out that fully embrace the history of the series like this, making its world feel so rich and real instead of just serving as an excuse for a string of platforming levels. I don't even like Shadow '05, but I'll be damned if Ian and the rest of Sonic Team didn't make something amazing by "yes, and"-ing Shadow's cringe past here. Sonic has truly reached levels of "we're so back" never thought possible.

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mimiiiiiiiiisstuff · 2 days ago

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"You're gonna go far"

okay yall this is chapter one! if it sucks or doesn't make sense pls don't hate. might take it down later if i decide i hate it. likes, comments, and reblogs encourage me!!!I brainstormed this pretty fast so it might be messy.

lmk if there's any plot holes! This is the week following the failed patrol and Tiffany taking reader's credit. About 6 to 7 months after Tiffany moved in.

The first day after the incident, you had stayed in your room, nursing the bitter sting of betrayal. You couldn’t even remember the last time they’d acknowledged your existence. Tiffany, of course, was the shining star of the household. While you were holed up in your bedroom, processing the snakebite that had changed everything, Tiffany was out there, winning their favor with her charm, her sweet smiles, and her sugar-coated lies. You spent all night aching and feeling your bones shattering in your skin, feeling your skin peel off, and your teeth sharpen and make your mouth bleed.

The day started with her knocking on your door, her voice dripping with fake concern.

“Hey, are you okay?” she asked, stepping inside without waiting for permission. “I heard what happened last night... but don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll be fine. Just walk it off, right? Just a snake bite! You weren't even supposed to be on patrol, Dad said that you can't be part of the team. You're not skilled enough.”

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. How could you? It wasn’t a matter of walking it off. The venom inside you had begun to manifest, the snake-like power curling through your veins, but Tiffany's words twisted the knife further. You could see the smug look in her eyes as she added, “It’s okay. I’m here now. I know you’re upset, but let’s just move past it. You need some tough love”

You didn’t know what to expect when the transformation took hold that night. One minute, you were trying to cry yourself to sleep the next—your skin tingled, muscles shifting, twisting beneath the surface. The bite on your neck from the damn snake burned like fire, but something deeper, something inside you, urged you to embrace it. Again you felt your mouth burn, your body tingle, your skin shed and a searing pain from the waist down.

As you lay flat against the wall, your hands pressed against the cool surface you couldn’t help but grin, pain was better than numbness. You weren’t just Bruce Wayne's outcast daughter, nor were you the wannabe batgirl, as Stephanie liked to call you, you were something else now, something powerful.

The first time you ejected venom from your fingertips, you almost dropped your phone in surprise. It was cold, sharp, and terrifying in its power. It didn’t make sense. You could feel the agility coursing through you, every muscle in your body aligning with the new capabilities as if your very bones were made for this transformation. This wasn’t you anymore.

The idea of getting even, of showing them all that you weren’t weak or invisible, had always been a fantasy. But now, it didn’t feel like a fantasy. It felt real, solid in a way that left you trembling. You weren’t just going to prove them wrong. You were going to become something they could never ignore again. And they would never see it coming.

But what now? The Batfamily—Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian, all of them—had given you nothing but pain and neglect for years. They didn’t understand you, didn’t care to. They couldn’t see past their perfect image of family long enough to see you. Now, with this power, you didn’t need them. You never did.

Except… there was Tiffany.

She was their new perfect darling, their shining star. Every time she took a step into their world, they’d fawn over her, ruffle her hair, praise her as though she could do no wrong. You had tried to be perfect for them, but perfection never got you what you wanted. It never got you love. It never got you acceptance.

She was a liar, a fraud, and she’d ruined your life. You'd tried to warn them, tried to tell them what she really was—what she was doing behind their backs. But they chose to believe her over you. They always did.

So it was time for them to learn. To know what you were capable of.

You wouldn’t hurt them but you would make them understand. You would show them your worth, show them what they had turned their backs on. No more hiding. No more being invisible. You’d be the storm they couldn’t control, the one they couldn’t ignore.

One by one, you would take back everything that was stolen from you.

The next day Bruce didn’t even acknowledge you when he passed you in the hallway. You wanted to tell him about the snake, about the strange scary things going on in your body, of the violent thoughts running through your mind but the words died in your throat in fear of ridicule. You stood there, heart racing, desperately hoping he’d say something, anything, just a hint of recognition. But he didn’t. Tiffany was at his side, her arm linked through his as they strolled past you. She was chattering on about some trivial matter, and you could feel the coldness in Bruce's demeanor. No eye contact. No words. Nothing.

It was as if you weren’t there. It hurt, more than you could have imagined. And yet it wasn't anything new.

Alfred, the one person who might’ve shown you compassion, didn’t even make you breakfast. You waited in the kitchen, hoping for something—anything. But no, Tiffany had already filled the void with her charming demeanor, sitting at the table with Alfred, chatting about some charity event.

You stood there, waiting. Watching. Silent.

Eventually, you turned and left. Alfred hadn't even looked up when you walked out.

Damian.

Your little brother who you tried so hard to bond withhad taken to sneering at you when you crossed paths with more anomosity than usual. His usual arrogance and distaste for you had only intensified. You had caught him once, whispering something to Tiffany about how "pathetic" you were. “Father’s blood runs through me, not through you,” he had muttered under his breath. You had to fight the overwhelming urge to break down right then and there. The venom inside you seemed to thrum in response, as if it recognized the cruel words, feeding off them.

Later, you overheard him tell Tiffany, “You’re far more worthy of being in this family than she’ll ever be.”

Jason, who you once thought of as a brother, the only one who could’ve understood you, had turned his back completely. You had tried to reach out to him and tell him of the pains at night, to apologize for whatever wrongs you’d committed, but all he did was glare at you. A snide comment about how “you wouldn’t know what it means to feel pain” and then he walked away, his back to you as he followed Tiffany down the stairs.

Your heart shattered.

Tim was... absent, but his absence was worse than anything. He made no effort to reach out, barely acknowledging you when you passed by. When you tried to speak with him, to ask how his day had gone, he merely gave you a dismissive shrug and muttered something about needing to “work.” Tiffany, on the other hand, always had time for him. She seemed to be everything you were not—everything they wanted. She was their perfect daughter, their perfect sibling. She was the one who belonged.

You tried to slip into the shadows, but the truth was, you felt like you were already invisible.

You and Duke used to be friends when he first came, till he realized Stephanie was much cooler than you. Maybe you could hang with them in the cave, maybe they could help figure out what was happening to you. Maybe even talk to Barbra and Cassandra!

The Batcave was eerily quiet when you worked up the nerve to enter. You were sitting at a workstation, trying to work up the courage to talk to any of your siblings but your thoughts kept drifting. Tiffany had completely woven herself into the fabric of the team, and everyone else, even Duke, seemed content to ignore you.

You and Duke had once been close. He’d been one of the few people who had ever tried to make you feel like you belonged in the manor. You remembered the late-night conversations, sharing stories and laughter, plotting out plans for how you could prove your worth to the family. But now, every time you glanced in his direction, there was nothing but distance and confusion.

you could feel his presence across the room. He and Tiffany were standing by one of the equipment stations, speaking in hushed tones. You tried to ignore them. It hurt too much to look at Duke, to see how easily he had fallen under Tiffany's spell, how effortless it was for him to ignore you now.

Tiffany was front and center, as usual. Her presence always seemed to command attention, like a star that everyone gravitated toward. You had grown used to the way they all fawned over her, but it didn’t make it any easier to watch.

“Duke, you’re up next,” Tiffany called out, a smile playing at her lips. Her voice was sweet, but you could hear the subtle edge beneath it. A tone that made your blood boil. She wasn’t just charming them, she was playing them.

“You know, I’d never say no to a challenge, Tiff.” he said, his voice almost affectionate.

“You’re the best, Duke,” Tiffany purred, clearly pleased.

You glanced at Barbara, hoping for something—a glance, a small acknowledgment—but her eyes were glued to her computer screen. She might as well have been miles away.

Cassandra, as usual, was focused on her training. She hadn’t ever shown interest in you, and today was no different. Her sharp gaze didn’t waver from the sparring targets she was working through, ignoring you entirely.

You sighed, not wanting to add to the already uncomfortable tension in the air. The weight of it was overwhelming. But you couldn’t help but overhear the rest of Duke and Tiffany’s conversation.

“I’m telling you, Duke,” Tiffany was saying with a laugh, “you’ve got this in the bag. You’ve been training for years, they’re never going to see it coming.”

Duke chuckled, clearly reveling in her praise. “Yeah, but I’m still not sure I trust the plan,” he said, glancing at the others. “You really think it’ll work?”

Tiffany’s smile was cold and calculating. “Trust me, it will. I’ve been working on it for weeks, and with your skills, we’ll have it done in no time. Just follow my lead.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from speaking up, even if you weren’t sure why you were still trying. You knew they didn’t care, but some part of you still clung to hope that maybe, just maybe, they’d listen. You and Duke were friends, he wouldn't ignore you. You didn't want Tiffany to pressure him into a plan he wasn't sure of.

“Tiffany, why don’t you give Duke some space?” you asked, trying to sound casual. “He might want to work out his own plan, you know?”

The moment the words left your mouth, Duke’s expression darkened, and so did everyone else's. Even Barbra glanced at you.

“Oh, you’re still here?” Tiffany asked, her tone laced with mock sweetness. “I didn’t realize you had any input. I guess it’s cute that you think Duke needs your help.”

Duke’s eyes narrowed. “I’m good, [Y/N]. Really. Tiffany’s got this. Don’t you have some... other place to be?”

Your mouth burned and your bones ached, since when did Duke treat you like this? What right did he have? You were friends, friends aren't mean to friends.

Your fists clench, "Excuse me? What's that supposed to mean?" You spit out, unusually angry and brave.

His eyes softened for a second but then Duke looked up at you, his gaze colder than you remembered. “It’s not personal, okay? It’s just… you don’t really fit in with the rest of us."

The words felt like a slap in the face. Tiffany was the one with the skills. Tiffany was the one who was flawless. Tiffany was the one who didn’t need to try. Tiffany fit in.

You wanted to scream, to demand an explanation for why you were being discarded like this. You tried, but the words caught in your throat, leaving you silent. Duke wasn’t the person you had once leaned on. He wasn't your friend anymore. you could feel the deep divide between you both now, a gap named betrayal.

Before you could respond, Stephanie, who had been standing off to the side, stepped forward. “Come on, (Y/N), don’t waste our time. If you don’t have anything useful to add, just leave. You’ll be better off on your own.”

Your eyes snapped to her. Of all people, you didn’t expect Stephanie to be so blunt. But here she was, her arms crossed and her eyes not even looking in your direction as she spoke.

Tiffany shot Stephanie a glance of approval. “Exactly, Steph. They’ll just slow us down. Maybe you should go back to the kitchen and bake something.”

The words were meant to belittle you, to remind you of the one thing they knew you were good at, baking, and nothing more. You felt your fists clench, the sting of her words cutting deeper than you wanted to admit.

Duke’s eyes lingered on you for a moment, but he didn’t say anything. His silence spoke volumes. You could feel the finality of it, the way the space between you both had grown too big to bridge.

“You don’t have to listen to them,” Tiffany continued, her voice smooth, "You’re not part of the team. Just let it go. It’s better for everyone.”

Tiffany’s manipulation was sickening. But what hurt the most was that Duke was going along with it. He had always been the one person who had made you feel like you mattered in this cold, detached family. And now? He was treating you like you were nothing. He had chosen her over you. The reality of it hit you like a t train.

“Fine,” you muttered, swallowing the lump in your throat, ignoring the burning of your eyes and the hole in your chest.

Without another word, you turned on your heel and walked out of the Batcave, the cold stares of Tiffany, Duke, Stephanie and Cassandra burning into your back. no matter how hard you had tried, how many times you had bent over backwards to prove your worth, it would never be enough for them.

The final blow came that night on the 7th night after the incident and the day after Duke's betrayal.

Tiffany had won. You could see it in her eyes, hear it in her voice. She won their trust, their love. Now, she was going to make sure you were out of the picture for good.

You overheard Bruce and Tiffany speaking in his study, a room you were never allowed to enter.

“I think it’s for the best,” Tiffany said, her voice sweet, almost too sweet. “She’s so... incompetent. Maybe a change of scenery will help her grow.”

“Maybe,” Bruce replied, his voice cold, indifferent. “But it’ll also keep her away from Gotham for a while. From the family.”

“It’ll be better for everyone,” Tiffany continued. “She’s been so distant lately, and honestly, I don’t think she fits in here. She doesn’t belong.”

“I’ll have Alfred make the arrangements tomorrow,” Bruce said, his tone final. “It’ll be good for her. A change of pace. A chance to learn discipline.”

And just like that, your life as you knew it ended.

You would be sent away to a boarding school in New York City. They didn’t even give you the courtesy of telling you themselves. Tiffany had already manipulated the situation, convinced them that it was for the best. That you didn’t belong. That you needed to be removed from the family.

Later That Night

You sat in your room, fists clenched, eyes burning with tears you refused to shed. You could hear Tiffany’s laughter echoing in the halls as she paraded through the manor, a crown on her head that wasn’t hers.

You weren’t going to cry. Not anymore. You weren’t going to beg for their attention. For their love. No. You had something far more dangerous now. Something that didn’t need them. Something that would show them all just how wrong they were. The venom in your veins burned brighter now. You could feel it coiling around your bones like a living, breathing thing. You would prove them all wrong. You would go to New York and never look back.

Ok I tried my best guys be nice! I just had so many ideas and didn't know how to execute them! Send in asks! I wanted to get the plot moving tbh

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shytulipghost · 3 days ago

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Here's a funny anecdote:

When I was 13, I had an idea for a time travel story which was about a kingdom that had a magical clock tower that was created by a wizard a long time ago. The citizens would heavily rely on said clock to go back in time and fix their problems (the problem though was that they would have to climb up the tower to move the hands of the clock anticlockwise).

An alternative for the citizens was to go up to the wizard's descendants for help. The descendants had a pocket watch that they could use to time travel and it was an object they would pass down from generation to generation (it worked the same way as the clock tower, but they could also move forwards in time and stop time). However, the citizens would take advantage of them and treat them as living tools instead of people.

I ended up abandoning the whole idea 2 or 3 years later because I didn't know how to develop the story and I was starting to lose interest in it.

...

Cut to last year, when I decided to watch the first two episodes of The Little Prince 2010 series out of nostalgia (to be more precise, the "Planet of Time" arc). I was having a good time rewatching it and I was slowly remembering the enjoyment I had for this series when I was a kid (I had only watched the first season). Then, I got to the flashback scene in the second episode, where the viewer is shown and told how the Snake tempted the watchmaker (a very important figure in that planet because he controls all the planet's clocks and how time functions there) to ignore his responsibilities and, unknowingly, slowly destroy his own planet.

Here's the relevant part of the flashback: the Snake basically asks him if he wishes to be a kid again and not be stressed and burned out anymore (the watchmaker had been exhausted lately because of his job). Once he seems interested in the idea, the Snake gives him a "solution". What's that "solution"? To grab a clock and move the hands anticlockwise so he can essentially "go back in time" (he doesn't actually time travel; he just turns into a baby).

The moment I watched that scene, I remembered my abandoned time travel story and thought: "Oh, so that's where I got that idea!" (I also realized that it was very ironic to be watching these two episodes again for nostalgic reasons).

I knew that some childhood shows and movies had a direct influence on my art and writing (for example, the main characters of the novel I'm writing are just the Mane 6 from MLP: you have the nerdy girl, the sporty girl, the girly girl, the silly girl, etc.), but I hadn't considered that "The Little Prince" may have also influenced my work (both the abandoned and non-abandoned ideas). I might have subconsciously taken other elements from it, such as some of its themes and plot details).

I think it also probably had a small influence on some of my antagonists (especially, some of my demon characters). There aren't any demons in the series, but the Snake is depicted as being kinda like Satan, with him tempting people and making deals sometimes. (Funnily enough, when the series came out, I had started catechesis and my mom had read to me an abridged version of the Bible that was made for kids. However, I didn't make the connection at the time that the Snake was acting like the serpent from the Bible).

NOTE: the series isn't a Christian show, but it's something I noticed after rewatching it. There aren't any other similarities to the Bible or Christianity besides that. Also, I'm not very religious, but I find stories with demons interesting.

being an artist and revisiting media you liked when you were 11 is like. oh ok. this shaped my sense of humor and the way I write characters and the way I pace narratives and the tropes I'm drawn to. and I vastly underestimated how much of an impact it had on me because I literally have not thought about it for 15 years. but it was there inside me the whole time. ok. ok cool! c ool

#reblog #not my post #long post #childhood shows #childhood movies #nostalgia #the little prince 2010 series #how fitting that i'm talking about the snake in the year of the snake lol #also when i was drawing one of the illustrations for last year's halloween #(more specifically the one where i depict the 100 demons as blue parasites coming out of the man's body)#i looked at the demons i had drawn so far and thought: “hey they kinda look like the snake's minions”#(for context: i had rewatched the episodes a few months earlier)

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colossrat · 3 days ago

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That's it, after years of getting to know the league, they are finally revealing themselves (some of them at least), their true identity. they are all very mature and happy to know the faces and names of their friends. but them, there is Batman.

Many heroes are waiting with a sparkle in their eyes. It turns out that when they found out they were going to do this, some heroes decided it would be fun to make some bets on guesses about what they would be like. flash, green arrow, the lanters, captain marvel, aquaman, hawkgirl, cyborg, you know.

Diana didn't play, as she already knows most of their names and it wouldn't be fair, the same goes for J'onn, Superman, Batman etc

Batman takes a deep breath (not that anyone notices) and takes off his cowl.

they. went. deadly. silent.

he expected gaps, perhaps screams. "YOU'RE THAT BILLIONAIRE" type of thing. but no. he watches their faces turn to horror, minus Captain Marvel, who sports a shit-eating grin so big and bright it could compete with the sun.

Cap giggles, like a little devil. slowly, he looks that the companion is at his side. flash, or barry, is pale. Green Arrow's, aka oliver queen, jaw is on the floor. Aquaman also known as Arthur is looking like a dead fish, as if he had been out of the water for too long. and like that it goes.

Diana and Superman are suppressing their smiles. Maybe they know what it's about? I mean, Bruce knows it's about the stakes. but he didn't know all the details because he didn't want to get involved.

flash is the first to speak

Flash: i cant... oh my god. im broke.

he was so deadly serious it made bruce frown. just a little bit.

The captain's smile gets bigger and bigger and, like a good teammate, he explains:

Marvel: Everyone was betting that you were some kind of ex-war criminal, a super broke guy, a homeless guy who, when he's not beating up criminals, is sleeping in a trash can. you know the vibe. but not me, I knew you were a rich guy, with a lot of trauma.

Batman frowns even more.

Bruce: how?

Marvel: Remember when, 1 and a half years ago, we were hit by that villain that makes people laugh? Yes, I knew there. you have a rich guy laugh. there was no way anyone could manipulate it. I could hear the money in your tears... and the trauma...

Bruce: you knew I was rich and… traumatized… because of the way I laughed…? hmn. Very good, Marvel. I didn't expect such a deduction from you.

Marvel: nah, its not even such a big thing. what is big is my price! I don't even know how to pronounce how many I just won. When I said you were a playboy, they raised the stakes so much that I'll probably have to deny some things…

Flash: oh my god... the deed from where I live…

Aquaman: the deed from where you LIVE? my dude, I just lost my kingdom!

Little Billy will take the money, maybe, because he's not stupid or anything. but he's not going to leave his colleagues in such a bad situation, he's going to let them visit his houses from time to time!

#billy batson #shazam #dc #justice league #batman #i dont really know how to tag this #English is not my native language

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motorsportbarbie13 · 23 hours ago

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Aftermath - Chapter 3

When Lando leaves you heartbroken after you get tired of trying to make nothing into something for far too long, Max steps in to help you pick up the pieces.

warnings: this chapter contains language and descriptions that illustrate abuse (mental and emotional). lando is abusive, full stop but like many survivors of abuse, it takes reader a bit to claw herself out of this. as a survivor of abuse myself, I am doing my best to give this story line the most respect and care that i can. please don't engage with my work if you find any of the topics triggering.i'd also like to point out that this is a character i am writing, i in no way am insinuating or implying the real lando is like this in any way. pairing: max verstappen x leclercsister!reader word count: 4.9k

(Extra special shout out to @nitaekook for beta reading and holding my hand through this fic 😂❤️)

Aftermath - MV33 - Chapter 1 Aftermath - Chapter 2 Master List

“Where do you want these plates to go, my dear?” Jade asks from across the kitchen.

You glance up at her from your spot on the brand new couch that was just delivered to the new apartment that morning. You’re sitting cross legged unpacking a box of the few things that you had brought over from the old apartment. In the kitchen, your best friend Jade (who is also Arthur’s girlfriend of about a year thanks to your meddling) stands holding up one of the new plates that you bought with her yesterday.

“Wherever there’s room.” You say with a shrug, not really caring where the plates go because everything feels weird.

The apartment is pristine with its gorgeous hardwood flooring that Charles had refinished before you moved in, floor to ceiling windows that face out towards the water, and that new house smell that is totally unfamiliar and a little unnerving. You should be happy, shouldn’t you? Finally being free of the stifling apartment that you had shared with Lando should fill you with so much optimism and a sense of relief, shouldn’t it? But that’s not the case. Not even close. You’re scared and nervous and just the thought of deciding where those plates should go seems like the heaviest question you've ever been asked.

Simply picking out the plates yesterday with Jade had been an ordeal and you had needed to take several moments to yourself while shopping. You liked your old plates that you had bought with Lando the week you moved in with him but at the same time, the thought of taking those to your new apartment was more painful than leaving them behind.

Jade must notice your anxiety because as soon as she finishes putting the plates and bowls in whatever cabinet that suits her fancy, she comes over to sit next to you on the couch. When she wraps her arm around your shoulders you melt into her in a desperate attempt to stop a fresh flood of tears from falling. It seems as if all you’ve done since leaving the old apartment was cry and if you’re not crying, you’re barely fighting off an incoming panic attack and jumping with every ding of your phone.

“What’s going on, my love?” Her voice is gentle, like she’s talking to an injured animal that she doesn’t want to spook. It makes you feel pathetic, helpless, and angry for how much Lando has damaged you when he should have been loving you.

You’ve known Jade for years now and she’s always been one of your closest friends. It was Jade that had been the first of your friend group to pull you aside almost a year ago to ask you if you were truly happy with Lando. She had seen the light dim in your eyes as your relationship with him progressed and watching you lose your spark had scared her. When you had told her the morning after your art show last month that you had finally decided to leave Lando, it had been so hard for her to tamp down her excitement that you had finally worked up the courage to leave him.

“I should be happy, right?” You ask, voice cracking a bit with the heavy weight of what closing the door on the apartment for the very last time had done to you that morning. “I mean, I know I’ve been miserable for…” You scoff, “a really long time so shouldn’t I feel something other than heartbreakingly sad?”

Jade tips her head so it rests on your shoulder, a humming sound playing at the back of her throat. “You’ve been with him for a long time, of course you’re going to be heartbroken. Youu’re doing the right thing though, I promise you. He couldn’t even stop playing that stupid video game long enough to support you last month!”

You nod, memory flickering back to the fight in the hallway in front of Max. You hadn’t heard much from him in the weeks since that night aside from a few texts here and there and you had expected that. He probably was mortified at how you had behaved, embarrassed for you that you had allowed yourself to be treated that way in front him.

You wouldn’t have blamed him if he thought you were a weak little girl who deserved the treatment Lando doled out to you. It was the only way you could rationalize his silence. Seeing how far you’d fallen, how much you’d changed, had obviously had an effect on Max and he had decided he’d seen enough. It didn’t surprise you and you didn’t blame him. Jade was one of your only remaining friends and losing yet another person you trusted and valued in your life was just another thing Lando had taken from you.

“I’m just so glad you finally are taking your power back, love. I know it feels all wrong right now but when you go from the chaos that you’ve been living in for so long, I’m sure the calm of this apartment feels wrong. You’ll get used to it. It might take some time but you’ll get used to it.”

Your head swivels around to look your best friend and you search her face for any sign of her lying to you. You desperately want to believe she’s right, that you’re making the right choice. You know you are, deep down in your soul, but you’ve been with Lando for so long and have spent so many nights listening to him rant and rave about how he’s the only one who could ever deal with your dramatics that you wonder if Jade is wrong and Lando is the one who’s been right all along. You don’t voice the doubts though, knowing that those kinds of things are something that you should probably keep to yourself. So instead of voicing all of the fears that are bouncing around in your chest, making it feel heavy and tight with the pressure of doing something that absolutely terrifies you, you just nod and lean further into Jade’s shoulder.

“I know.” You whisper, staring out over the open living room that is littered with small boxes and suitcases.

With the help of your brothers and Jade, you had started moving your things out slowly while Lando had been otherwise distracted. Just a small box of clothes and trinkets here and there, over the last month while Charles had the apartment renovated and cleaned. When it was finally ready last week, you had begun looking for furniture and making final plans.

The timing had worked out perfectly, with the apartment finally being finished perfectly aligning with a weeklong trip Lando had planned to go to Woking to spend time in the sim at the MTC. He rarely bothered you during these working trips, hell he barely bothered you during any of this trips, but his work trips were different, so you knew you’d have a solid week to get everything that mattered to you out of the apartment before he would be any wiser.

“He’s going to be so mad when he comes home and my things are gone.” You murmur, staring down at your phone which hadn’t received so much as a text message from him in almost 48 hours.

You hadn’t bothered telling Lando you were leaving, that you were done with him. You shied away form confrontation on even the best of days so telling the man that you’d spent the last three years building a life together that you were leaving him was terrifying. When you had started moving small boxes out while Lando was still in town, you had half expected him to notice but that had never been a problem. He hadn’t even noticed you leaving on several occasions with boxes of your books or suitcases of clothes.

A larger part of you had another reason for not telling him, though. You knew that if you told him before you were fully moved out he’d try to get you to stay. He’d try to convince you that things would get better, that this time would be different. All the things that he’s said before when you spent the night crying over his neglect. And you knew you’d fall for it. You knew you’d go running back to him if you didn’t get out before he found out. Lando was persistent and an expert manipulator, you knew that and you still fell for it over and over again so this time you were trying to give yourself the chance to put yourself first and not fall back into his trap.

“He’s going to learn his lesson when he comes home and finds that you’re finally moving on.” Jade says, tone firm but still gentle. She knows what it’s like to be in a relationship like you have with Lando and when you had called her that morning last month to tell her you were finally leaving him, she had decided she was going to make sure she’d do everything in her power to keep you from going back to him. Getting you unpacked and settled in your new apartment was a huge step forward, one Jade hadn’t been sure you would end up following through with.

You nod, hoping she’s right but you have a feeling deep in your gut that when Lando gets back into town tomorrow morning he’s not going to see it that way. He’s going to be angry and he’s going to try to get you to come back home to him.

Looking around your new apartment though, you feel something settle in your bones that you haven’t felt in a very long time. It’s a feeling of attachment to this place. Like if you’re careful and thoughtful, this little apartment tucked away in one of the most exclusive buildings in Monaco could be the best opportunity you have for getting your life back on track. You could heal here, you can feel that in the way the sunlight spills through the windows in the living room, in the way your anxiety allows you to breathe when you stand in the kitchen surrounded by things that you bought yourself, and in in the way you feel when you settle yourself on your brand new bed that will have never shared an intimate moment between you and Lando. Those memories have all been left behind and this new apartment seems like the perfect place for a new beginning.

As Jade comforts you on your couch, your brother is across town arriving at the Monaco Sports Club where he has a game of padel scheduled with Max that afternoon. He had offered to cancel on him this morning when you spoke to him on the phone, saying that your first full day in the apartment was more important than any padel game, but you had insisted that he keep his game. You had wanted a bit of space to breathe from your brothers, who you knew meant very well and you were very grateful for but sometimes, the three men got to be a little suffocating. So, against his better judgement, Charles had skipped coming over that afternoon in favor of hanging out with Max.

Max hasn’t stopped thinking about that night last month when he witnessed Lando being needlessly cruel to you. He had every intention of calling Charles that night, had every intention of telling him how the British driver was actually treating you but something had stopped him. He had needed a little more time to process everything that he saw. Max knew that Lando could be an asshole but he never could have guessed that he would have treated you the way he did that night he brought you back to the apartment. It had shaken him and it had taken him a bit to figure out exactly how to approach it with Charles because he knew if Charles really knew how Lando had been treating you, Lando might not make it to the next race alive. Because while everyone knew the relationship was toxic and Lando wasn’t a good boyfriend, no one really realized just how bad it had gotten until Max saw behind the curtain that night of the art show.

When Max had invited Charles to play padel today, he had finally decided to tell him what had gone down that night. It had taken so long because Max kept waffling between ‘this is none of my business’ and ‘she’s everything’ but when he spotted Charles walking through the padel courts towards him, Max was surprised at how happy Charles looked.

“You look happy.” Max observes before giving his friend a hug.

“Oh, it is a very good day, mon ami.” Charles is practically glowing as he smiles over at his long time friend.

Max lifts a brow, it’s been a while since he’s seen Charles look this optimistic and he wonders if it has something to do with you.

As if Charles reads his mind, he continues, “We finally got the apartment finished and as of this morning, she’s fully left that piece of garbage.” A smug smile plays at the corner of the Ferrari driver’s mouth.

The relief that washes over Max is surprising. He hadn’t realized how truly worried he was for your well being until that moment. The guilt that sets in though has his chest aching. How could he have gone so long without saying something to someone about what he had seen that night? Max carefully weighs his decision that he had been so set on just moments before. If you’ve already left Lando and are settling into your apartment, does Charles really need to know what happened that night? It would only cause more drama and Max knew that more drama and anxiety was the last thing you needed.

In a split second decision that he knows could come back to haunt him, Max decides to keep quiet for now.

“That is the best thing I’ve heard all day.” With a genuine grin, Max bounces the padel ball against the floor.

Charles beams back at him and Max can almost see the stress that his friend has been carrying around recently melting away from his features. He had known that your brother was worried about you, had known your entire circle, or what was left of it, was worried but now that this was really happening, Max could practically feel the relief rolling off of Charles in waves.

“You’re telling me.” Charles mutters before walking to the other side of the court to get the game started.

Max hadn’t meant to end up in your old neighborhood, truly he hadn’t. He had been on a run the morning after playing padel for a few hours with Charles when he passed the bakery that was a few blocks from your old apartment. He hadn’t meant to come this far but the pressures of the season were starting to get to him as they usually did around this time of year and he had needed extra time to clear his head. The fact that he couldn’t seem to get you off his mind either plagued him the entire run too. The way you had felt pressed against his side as he walked you home that night last month, the way your cheeks flamed with humiliation as Lando had laid into you in front of him when he walked you to your door, everything about you seemed to be invading his thoughts and it worried him.

It worried him because he couldn’t let you get under his skin like this. He knew it was a dangerous game he was playing, knowing what you’ve been through and allowing himself to wander down that road. He was just happy you were safe now and hopefully you would start to get that spark back that he knew you still had in you. Everything else would have to wait.

So when he passed the bakery you had pointed out as your favorite the night he had walked you home, he couldn’t help but follow his feet inside. The smells of freshly baked bread and sweet pastries washed over his senses as the bell above the wooden door jingled, announcing his arrival. He knew exactly what he was looking for before the woman behind the counter even asked and before he was able to second guess his decision, Max was walking out of the bakery moments later with half a dozen of what he knew were your favorite almond croissants.

A housewarming gift, he told himself. Because what other way should Max welcome his newest neighbor to the building where he had lived for the last two years? He knew these were your favorites and if he had to guess, wandering back into your old neighborhood just for some carbs was probably at the bottom of your ‘to do’ list right now, even if they were heavenly pieces of baked bread and sweet almond filling.

While Max made his way back across town, laden down with a large pink bakery box, you were just getting out of bed and starting your day. Anxiety, a feeling that seemed to be your constant companion lately, sits heavy on your shoulders as you move around the new apartment. The quiet hush that blankets the small space is different than the stifling silence you're used to in your apartment with Lando. It was unnerving to say the least but if you allowed yourself to pause for even just a moment, you could almost feel your soul breathing a sigh of relief.

That wash of contentment is short lived though when a knock at your front door sends your heart rate spiking through the roof. You know that Lando was going to be home today but didn't know what time. It didn’t even cross your mind that there was no way it was him outside your door because he simply didn’t know where you had moved to but just the thought of someone who you weren’t expecting waiting for you and the possibility that it could be your now ex-boyfriend had you spiraling.

Reaching for your phone, you pull up the security system app that Charles had insisted you get installed, despite the fact that this was a very well secured building with its own doorman downstairs 24/7. The person standing outside your door has confusion knitting your brow together.

Pancake ingredients forgotten, you pad towards the door shuffling through various emotions: relief that it isn’t Lando waiting for you on the other side, apprehension about seeing the person that was patiently waiting in the hallway for you, and a bit of relief that you hadn’t lost this person like you thought you might have.

“Max, what a pleasant surprise.” You murmur when you swing the door open.

In front of you, the Dutch driver is dressed for a workout in athletic shorts and a t-shirt, his blond hair covered in a backwards baseball cap. You’re surprised at the shimmer of pleasure that works its way up your spine when he smiles at you but quickly squash the feeling, remembering the pity on his face as Lando had yelled at you that night he walked you home.

“I was on a run this morning and remembered you saying this bakery was your favorite. I thought I’d bring you some almond croissants as a sort of ‘welcome to the building’ present.”

Warmth spreads through your belly at the gesture and you hold the door open to welcome Max into the apartment. “Welcome to the building?” You ask, confused.

Max grins back at you, rubbing at the back of his neck as he follows you to the kitchen. “I live up in the penthouse. I moved in about two years ago.”

Surprise flickers across your face. When you started dating Lando, your friendship with Max had grown distant so it shouldn’t shock you that you didn’t even know where your friend lived. “Oh, I didn’t realize.” You whisper, guilt settling like a stone in your stomach.

Max watches you bustle around the kitchen, decidedly avoiding eye contact with him. For a few moments he just observes you, trying to decide if he should leave or push. Charles had mentioned yesterday that you were nervous about living alone and Max wanted to make sure that you were okay. He knew he should probably leave you alone to continue to settle it, with it being only your second day in the apartment alone, but there was something keeping him rooted to the spot where he stood in the middle of the kitchen.

“Are the almond ones still your favorite?” He asks, shattering the silence that had settled over the room. He knows you’re easily spooked now and Max desperately wants you to be comfortable about him. Maybe if he distracts you from whatever storm is brewing in your head, you’ll open up a bit.

His patience is rewarded with the first unguarded smile he’s seen from you in a long time. “I can’t believe you remembered.” You laugh, reaching for one of the croissants in the open box.

“You used to put these things away like nobody’s business when we were younger.”

The blush that creeps across your cheeks has Max gripping the edge of the counter. The two of you fall into a comfortable conversation of safe topics, mostly about your new apartment and how Max’s cats are doing. You like this, the way you feel around him but you can almost feel your body bracing for the other shoe to fall. You keep waiting to have something stupid slip out of your mouth, causing Max to berate or make fun of you.

Much to your surprise it never happens though and you spend the next hour talking through memories of when Charles and Max were fighting it out on the karting tracks when you were younger. Max remembered you well from those days, how you would beg to tag along with him and Charles and the older boys.

The sun sits high in the sky when your phone start buzzing loudly on the counter. At first you ignore it, too lost in the conversation you and Max are having, the way he is so attentive to everything you have to say and how he asks you questions like he’s genuinely interested in what you have to say. You don’t want the attention he’s giving you to end but when your phone starts buzzing for the fifth time in a row, you get up off the couch to retrieve it. It was probably just Charles checking on you, you hand’t heard from him all day after all.

Your heart sinks and your stomach churns when you see the caller ID though. “Fuck.” The whisper that tumbles off of your lips is broken and harsh, causing Max’s head to snap towards where you’re leaning over the counter, forearms braced on either side of your phone.

“Everything okay?” Max gets up off the couch to join you in the kitchen, concerned over the way you’ve suddenly gone white as a sheet as you stare down at your phone like it’s about to reach up and strangle you right there in the middle of the room.

In the couple of hours that you had spent catching up with Max, you had completely forgot that Lando was due to get home soon. “I guess Lando has discovered I’m gone.” The way your voice shakes has Max’s heart squeezing.

“He doesn’t know you moved out?”

“Well he does now.” You quip, nervous chuckle falling from your lips. The text messages came in first, it looked like. Nearly a dozen of them and as you scroll through the messages, your face heats. Of course this is going to happen with Max here. Why is he always a witness to your humiliation?

Where are you? Why is the closet half empty, where are all your clothes? Baby, why is your treadmill gone? And your Peloton? Where the FUCK are you??? ANSWER ME NOW WHERE ARE YOU??? DID YOU LEAVE ME THERE IS NO FUCKING WAY YOU’RE DOING THIS TO ME RIGHT NOW ANSWER YOUR FUCKING PHONE NOW COWARD

Shortly after the messages stop, the calls start. You stare down at the phone as Max watches as call after call comes through.

“You don’t have to answer him.” Max murmurs, coming to stand right next to you. You have to resist the urge to lean into his warmth, to collapse against the quiet strength that rolls off of him in waves.

“It’s only going to get worse if I don’t.”

“Does he know where you are?”

You shake your head, tears threatening to spill over. Why was this all happening right now? You knew you were safe, that he had no idea where you had moved to but just the thought of being in the same city as him when he was this angry is enough to have the panic threatening to strangle the breath straight out of your lungs.

“Then you’re safe. He wouldn’t ever do anything to put his career in danger, Dovie.”

You have to laugh at the statement because it’s so true. Lando would never do anything to put his career on the line. He’d do whatever it took to keep you in line under his thumb, no matter how mean he had to be to control you but when it came to his career? His first love? He’d never do anything to put his seat in question and you knew that. You had always come second to racing and what Max said was the total truth.

Max watches you shrink into yourself as the calls continue to come in, one after another, and he knows he has to do something. He glances at the time and instantly gets an idea. “I was supposed to go to dinner with Danny in an hour. What if you leave the phone here for the night and come to dinner with me?” He pauses, seeing the panic flicker across your face. “With us. Come to dinner with us.” He corrects quickly. “I’ll call Charles and see if he’s free too? It’s been a while since we’ve all had dinner together.”

Your eyes drop down to the phone, now quiet for the moment, and weigh your options. You know you’re not ready to talk to Lando but the fact that you’re ignoring him makes you feel like a coward. You’re going to have to speak to him sometime but maybe it was okay if you put if off for a few more days. Dinner out with Max, Daniel, and your brother sounds so appealing but you still hesitate.

“Come on, Dovie. You can’t spend the whole night starting at the phone. He’s going to keep calling and it’s not good for you to be alone right now.”

The pain that slices through your heart at the gentle coaxing Max’s tone takes on is almost unbearable. Why is he always the one to see you laid so bare, so vulnerable?

“How did I let this happen, Max?” Your voice breaks, soft and uncertain as you turn into Max’s waiting frame. Without hesitation, Max’s arms circle around you and he pulls you deeper into his chest. Something settles in him then, almost like he’s relieved you’ve allowed him in. The way you shake while he holds you has his chest aching and he’d really like to give the McLaren driver a piece of his fucking mind right about then, but he knows that’s going to have to wait for now. You’re much more important.

“You were in love, schatje and that’s okay. You trusted him and he broke that trust. It’s not a reflection of you, sweet girl, its a reflection of him. You have nothing to be embarrassed about.”

You sob quietly into his chest, soaking his t-shirt through with your tears as the dam finally breaks. Humiliation threatens to drag you under but you allow Max’s words to resonate through you. They soften the sharp edges of your heartache and regret, knowing that someone like Max, who you respect and have known for nearly your entire life, doesn’t think this entire thing is your fault. You sink into his warmth, clutching at the fabric of his shirt, allowing his steady breath to ground you.

Max just stands there, a quiet pillar of strength that he can feel you desperately need right now. Hr murmurs quiet reassurances to you as you cry against him, slowly rocking you back and forth. “Come on,” Max coos, lips brushing against the top of your head. “Go take a shower and then lets go to dinner. I’ll call Charles and see if he’s free. You haven’t seen Danny in ages, right? It’ll be good to get out.”

Dragging in a deep breath, you hold the air in your lungs until they pinch. “Okay.”

With one last look at your phone, you turn away and walk down the hallway, leaving Max starting at your phone which has finally gone quiet. For several moments, Max just stands at the counter in the kitchen, unable to move. Relief floods his veins when he hears the shower start though and he knows that you’re finally making a small step towards getting out from under Lando’s control.

@shelbyteller, @martygraciesversion381, @samantha-chicago, @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland, @aykxz98 @forensicheart @cheer-bear-go-vroom @lieutenantchaos @willowsnook @linnygirl09 @meglouise00 @mixedstyles @secret-agents-stole-my-bunnies @mrosales16 @charlesgirl16 @leclercdream @daemyratwst @dramaticpiratellamas @mochimommy2002 @llando4norris @iamaunknownsecret @maxivstappen @imlonelydontsendhelp @nina-or-anna-or-nora @a1leexxa @littlegrapejuice @sunflowervol18 @freyathehuntress @finn-dot-com @swiftie-4-lifes-stuff @chirasama @lauralarsen @dr3wstarkey @saskiaalonso @rbv3rstappen @ilovechickenwings @guaaafiiburg @mcmuppet @mindless-rock @piastri-fvx @mel164 @schumi-angel @myescapefromthislife @supertrashbread @sunny44 @tinystudentblaze-stuff @sarx164

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mameillieureennemie · 2 days ago

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Hey i think it would be cool if you do another jinx x femreader ishas sister and something about isha walking in on a cute moment and getting grossed out maybe some angst😌 maybe some smut 😙😙 if u do that

hey love! sorry this took so long, but i hope you enjoy and thank you for the request :)

jinx x f!isha's sister!reader

there're hardly any moments you two can get alone. with the whole of piltover after you and the whole of zaun championing your girlfriend, it's been a very rough couple of weeks.

most of your time is spent hiding out, and during that time, you're entertaining isha as much as you can. whether that be through beetle brawling, drawing, or re-dying her hair so it doesn't lose its blue. it's anything you can do to keep her happy, to keep her away from the impending war that brews on outside.

but then a moment comes along where isha disappears. which isn't entirely odd because she's been known to vanish from time to time. you've grown used to it, after years of observing her movements, and calm jinx down when her look for isha grows a bit frantic.

"she's fine," you assure jinx, rubbing at her shoulder. "i wouldn't be this calm if i knew she wouldn't be."

"yeah, but," jinx says, running a shaky hand through her hair. "it's getting dangerous out there, and isha isn't us. she's young; she's practically a baby, and people are sick fucks with deranged brains and—"

you instantly draw jinx into your arms, tugging at her until her face is in the crook of your neck. you rub soothing circles against her back, softly cooing until jinx's muttering falls silent. then her arms are curling around your waist, holding you close, as if she's scared you'll disappear too.

"i know it's hard," you say gently. "to trust that things are okay. that the people you love are okay. but you can trust me and trust that i know what i'm talking about." you lean back so you can hold jinx's face in your hands, smoothing your thumbs over the angle of her cheekbones. "so trust me on this, okay? isha's fine, and she knows what to do if she runs into any trouble."

jinx seems unconvinced, but she slowly relaxes as she nuzzles into your touch. with a heavy sigh, she closes her eyes and says, "i've...never had to worry like this before. usually, it was others worrying about me. because i was the jinx, y'know? so it's odd...feeling this way."

you hum in response, still tracing patterns into her cheeks. "feeling what way?" you ask, a little curious and jinx opens her eyes with a shrug.

"responsible?" she tries, before shaking her head. "i don't know, i just—the idea of anything happening to you or isha rips me up inside. like i'd permanently lose my mind, go absolutely fucking crazy if something bad happened to you guys."

you hum again, this time with a hint of a chuckle. but her words have your heart racing because that's exactly how you feel. it also means that what jinx is experiencing is probably similar to your experience.

that she—

"you love us," you whisper, barely loud enough for jinx to hear. but she hears it, loud and clear, as she stares at you with eyes that momentarily look powder blue.

"i...do," she whispers, just as loud, and it's enough to push you. enough to have you pull her in so you can press a sweet kiss against her lips. a kiss she reciprocates eagerly, her arms still tight around your waist, placing you in a trap you hope to never escape.

just as she licks into your mouth with a soft moan, there's a noise that startles you both. you pull apart quickly, looking around and sighing when you see that it's isha.

whose nose is scrunched up in disgust, eyes clenched shut.

you can't help but laugh loudly as jinx snorts, refusing to let you go.

"some nerve you got," jinx scolds playfully. "you couldn't have come back in like twenty minutes?"

you shove jinx, just as playful, and say, "isha, you can open your eyes."

but isha shakes her head, intent of keeping her eyes safe.

but she's smiling now, and that's all that matters.

#jinx x reader #jinx x you #arcane x reader #arcane x you #arcane #arcane league of legends #kismet writes ☆~#isha's sister!reader

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livin4woso · 2 days ago

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Casual-(alexia putellas x reader)

Summary- You can only keep it casual for so long right well. alexia doesn't want to any further than you just being a fling occasionally. However, you want more from her. You want commitment.

It's not as if alexia didn't like you or that she didn't find you attractive it was just that you were a low time commitment when she occasionally fancied when her schedule gave her a few hours free.

While that was good for the first month a summer fling as she proposed the idea to you however after 3 months, you can't help but catch feelings for the women who is in and out of your bed atleast once a week as a 'stress reliever'. The sneaking around your teamates to hide this suitationship was thrilling at first, like an adrenaline rush now it was plain boring and felt like a guilty secret.

You wanted the blonde to yourself as while it felt exclusive to you, there was no agreement for alexia to stay put to you she could do what she wanted when she wanted. You know you're not the only person she has slept with as she came into training with a neck full of hickeys and you dont leave marks because it has to be a secret right and even the slightest trace would ruin what was going on between yous.

However while you can accept it a few times you had reached your limit as you can't help but feel jealous when you know she has other women in her bed yet you sit and wait for her like a kicked puppy waiting for her attention.

You texted her to come round yours, but you didn't tell her what for as you needed to express your feelings towards her before you drag yourself deep falling for the blonde woman more than you already had.

Alexia hadn't expected much other than the usual routine of hook up wake up entangled in eachother then leave on the morning without a trace and she wasn't going to complain as you were some of the best sex she had in the past few years. She got changed into some sweats as she was used to the routine and didn't need to get dressed up nice as its not as if they would be on her for very long.

You heard the knock of the door usually filled you with excitement was now one of dread as this could either go two ways. You opened the door and greeted alexia, and as you almost slipped into your familiar routine of her lips pressed against your neck, you stopped her.

"Ale, can we talk, please?" you said, trying to push her towards the sofa. "Mhm," she said, understanding the hint and sat on the corner of your L shaped sofa. "Look, i just needed to confess something. i like you, and i can't keep doing this. Just as a random fling, i want commitment ,i want you, " you said, pacing the living room trying to read her stoic facial expressions. "Im sorry y/n, but i dont feel the same. i told you this was casual, and that's it. You knew that from the start," she replied, almost heartless "yeah right casual" you replied, pushing the loose strands of hair behind your head as almost a stress reliever.

This was a rash decision but it needed to end "then im sorry but we're finished no more of this of us whatever you even call this because i can't do casual anymore" you replied almost shocked at your own words. Alexia was almost stunned at you but she didn't let it slip not for one second "okay and i respect that I'll leave and I'll see you at training" she replied getting up to leave your apartment.

However, you couldn't see her at training knowing the countless times you'd been wrapped in her arms wanting to be hers. So you texted your agent and Accepted the deal to transfer to Chelsea this was the final straw if alexia didn't want to commit to you the only way to get rid of her is to remove her from your life completely.

Once the move was completed during the January window, you were having one of the best seasons you have had in a while with many goal contributions to the team. Meanwhile alexia was having a harder time to adjust without you and she had many of time thought about texting you saying she had lied that night and that she also felt the same but she was just scared to commit herself to a relationship again.

She couldn't do that not to you after she knew she had ruined you so much to leave for a different country but also to herself as her cowardness and anxiety had led to her mistake. Many teammates had asked her why you had transferred so abruptly, but she would never admit she was the reason for it all because she wanted to keep things casual between yous.

#woso #woso x reader #woso imagines #woso blurbs #barca femeni #alexia x reader #woso community #alexia putellas

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thegreatstoryteller · 3 days ago

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The Great Shift: Awkward Tales - Vignette 3: The Perfect Girlfriend

Vignette 1: The Nervous Flirt

Vignette 2: Athletics Run in the Family

“FUCK YEAH! That’s a 10 player Kill Streak! LET’S GOOOOOO!” Came the deep manly voice next to Salvatore.

“Hey uh… Samantha? Samantha….? Sam!? Can you keep it down a bit. Game is still going. I’m trying to focus..” Salvatore murmured as he tried to get his girlfriend to settle down.

“Sorry bro. I was too busy being locked in and carrying this match!” Sam joked back punching his arm.

Sal moaned in pain. He really wasn’t expecting this. Before the great shift he and his girlfriend had never seen eye to eye. Though their friends knew them as Sal and Samantha the iconic couple, behind closed doors they were always fighting. No matter how others idolized their seemingly perfect relationship, Sam never understood why Sal would spend so much time working out with his former frat bros or gaming online so much. She complained about him burping at meals and clogging the shower drain with his body hair! Sal even said that it was a guy thing and that she’d never understand!

But he could not have been more wrong.

Salvatore was one of the few people unaffected by the great shift. Internally he was happy about that. As a 6’1 Latino stud, he wouldn’t want to be in any other body but his own. Samantha on the other hand was part of the majority who had swapped.

Sam had found herself inside a fitness influencer known for being quite huge and hairy! When she’d texted Sal that she was a man and that they could still be together, he was a bit skeptical. He’d only ever told Sam about his bisexuality in confidence. He wasn’t even out to their friends! She even assured Sal that nothing between them had to change. However, that was proven wrong on the day she finally made it back to their apartment. She knocked so hard the door fell off its hinges. That’s when Sal came face to pecs with his new 6’7 gorilla of a boyfriend. She kicked off her size 17 shoes as she went to embrace her man! Needless to say Sal’s size 11s didn’t look very manly beside them.

From there lots of things began to change. Sam’s normally demure and organized attitude began to fade as soon as she was in this body. She was more laid back, more casual, and more open minded to Sal’s activities. Turns out her body was a natural at working out as she began to lift far more weights at the gym than Sal had ever dreamed! Sam also got into gaming, as she started to game with Sal and his friends, all of who loved the newest bro addition to their group! She even started to get into more drinking any alcohol she could get her hands on. Before long their shared fridge was filled with beers and protein shakes!

Sal also began to change, despite not having a new body. He began to realize his girlfriend was outdoing him in all his old activities! All of his bros even mentioned how awesome Sam was! They even started hanging out with Sam without Sal on the weekends! It was now Sal that was reminding Sam to clear out the shower drain, with his much hairier body! Now Sal was the one complaining about the late night’s Sam came back. This became a new normal.

Overtime Sal knew he had to do something to salvage his relationship with Sam before everything changed. That’s when he decided there was one part of their life as a couple they haven’t explored yet. Eventually Sal became more comfortable with his sexuality and began to experiment with Sam. Neither really knew what to do at first, with their limited experience, but it quickly became apparent that Sam would be taking control. Before Sam was a much more passive and supportive sexual partner… and now… she took charge! Every night after that Sal awoke with a sore ass and a tired body. Sal would never admit it, but he loved it! The only problem was… he couldn’t keep up with Sam. She was insatiable and could blow load after load into Sal, while Sal took hours to recover.

This awoke something in Sam though. Her new body loved to dominate! In the gym. In any game played. Even in the bedroom! And this wasn’t just reserved to Sal. Sam had suggested a few months in, that the two of them go to a bar and pick up women!

“I know you miss it Sal! Think about it. You and I. Find a hot ass woman! Take her home and then we take turns fucking her. I mean. You did say you always wanted a threesome.” Sam offered one night after gaming.

Sal was surprised! But the offer seemed nice. He had missed Sam’s more feminine form. And perhaps this was a way he could be a stud and sleep with multiple women while his girlfriend joined in!

That was sort of how the idea went. It turns out flirting with women was another thing that Sam was better at than Sal. Her ample experience and attention to emotion she’d had as a women, never faded. This made her the most thoughtful and handsome man when it came to talking to women anywhere they went. Every night Sam came home with dozens of numbers, while women always asked Sal if they could talk to his bigger “friend”.

When the two of them finally settled on a woman they both liked, that night turned out to be very different from how Sal imagined his first threesome. It was clear that the hot redhead they’d brought home was far more interested in Sam than Sal. All of her kisses, strokes, and sexual advances were received by an over eager Sam! Not that Sam minded. There was enough of him to go around! It didn’t take long for Sam and the redhead to be fucking like rabbits, while Sal was in the corner jerking off to the hot sight of his girlfriend with another woman!

Which brings us to the present!

“Fuck yeah! MVP! I rule at this game. Hey Sal! Grab me another beer.” Sam ordered as Sal nodded and retrieved the drink. “I got a few lucky ladies coming over tonight Sal. Hope you’re ready to see my fuck their brains out. Can you try not to make too much noise when you blow your load one minute in? Last set of girls had to pause after laughing so much. I know it’s fucking hot seeing me plow these babes, but try to hold on a little longer man.”

Sal blushed as Sam gave him a hefty pat on the back. He never had that issue with the old Samantha, but he couldn’t deny it. Seeing Sam dominate a new girl every night was the hottest thing he’d ever seen. He could only hope that he lasted a little longer this time.

#body swap #the great shift #female to male #gender change #great shift

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leeyoomisdoll · 3 days ago

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Se-Mi’s Rescue.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Se-Mi x Fem!reader

Synopsis: In which you’re on the border of death during the red light, green light game until Se-Mi shows up to rescue you.

a/n: I will write my other requests tomorrow or next week! I’ve been sort of busy. :( I’ll try my best to finish them though!

Its eerie robotic voice echoed in the bloody battlefield.

“Green light.”

We shuffled forward, the terror of the previous rounds still weighing heavy on us. Each step felt like a gamble with death, and my legs trembled beneath me.

“Red light.”

I froze mid-step, holding my breath. Beside me, people stood motionless and their gaze nervously flitted between the giant doll at the other end of the field. Its inert nodding head moved from side to side grasping for what to do.

I’d already seen what happened to those who made even the smallest mistake. The first shots had sent chaos through the crowd, and I had almost turned to run until the reality of the situation struck. Running meant certain death.

The doll’s head stopped moving.

“Green light.”

I made myself walk on, painfully slow. My muscles felt stiff, my body unwilling to obey. Every second was a mental struggle battle between life and the terrible terror of life.

I was at least near the middle of the finish line when the accident happened. I fell subsequently to my foot impact on a dirt piece hitting my sartorius and knee. I can hear my body land on the floor all at once (and the doll too), in the stillness, and I can see the doll's head slowly turn to me.

Panic hit me like a wave. I clambered to my feet, hands getting stuck in the dirt. I felt fear begin, breathing became shallow as I desperately tried to hold myself up.

“Stay still.”

The voice was piercing, but deep, piercing like a knife in my fear. I turned my head just enough to see her—Se-Mi. She was crouched a short distance below, with her intensely focused stare fixed on me. Her very dark and long hair was unkempt, but her face was firm.

“Don’t move,” she repeated, her tone steady. “Stay down.”

“Red light.”

I froze, my body trembling with fear. My hands were on the ground and my knees were screaming in pain from the force of the landing. I did not have the courage to take a breath, much less even look at the doll.

A long, suffocating silence passed. My heart beat in my chest so hard that it felt It would expose me. But no shots came.

The doll’s voice rang out again.

“Green light.”

“Crawl toward me,” Se-Mi whispered. Her gaze momentarily went to the doll and then back to me. “Slowly. Don’t rush.”

When I started wriggling in the dirt on my hands and knees with my arms trembling. Each step felt like a chance, a roll of the dice, even the smallest movement and the risk of killing myself.

“Red light.”

I froze, my face still pressed against the ground. I wasn't even able to raise my head to see where Se-Mi was gone. Simply, I hoped I was close enough to her in the hope of it working.

“Green light.”

Her hand reached out toward me, her fingers steady. I extended my hand, and my hand shook when I grasped hers. She got me to move quickly in one fluid motion, bringing me to my knees.

“You’re okay,” she murmured, her voice low but reassuring. “Just stay with me.”

From then on, I followed her lead. Se-Mi moved accurately, every move perfectly in time to the beat of the game. She was tranquil, undeterred, and yet in her composure something about her reassurance calmed me.

We progressed incrementally, the goal line getting closer with each utterance of “Green light. The moment the voice of the doll changed 'Red light, we all stood still, as if tethered together by an unseen thread.

The field behind us was chaos. A man did so as he fell, and shots rang out. A woman fell to the ground, her body lifeless. I did not have the courage to look back, but I could tell that it all just weighed down on me.

Se-Mi didn’t falter. Her focus was unyielding, her gaze locked ahead.

“Green light.”

We moved again, our steps slow but deliberate. When the finish line was constricted, almost, I could almost taste it.

“Red light.”

We stopped, the air heavy with tension.

“Green light.”

With one final step, we crossed the line. My legs gave way from under me, and I hit the floor, catching my breath as I struggled to get air.

For a short time I could not reason, could not make sense of what had just occurred. The only thing I felt was relief—pure, overwhelming relief.

“You’re safe now,” Se-Mi said, crouching beside me. Her hand rested on my shoulder, firm but comforting.

I looked up at her, tears stinging my eyes. “I-I thought I was going to die.”

Almost," she said, flatly. She was just stating the truth. “But you didn’t. And now you know what it takes to survive.”

I nodded, though her words didn’t feel reassuring.

She straightened, her gaze drifting back to the field. People still lived in those places and threw to make it across the goal line. All other participants took decisions too fast, to the extent that fear would make them to take wrong decisions. Others hesitated too much, their indecision becoming their downfall.

Se-Mi observed it all in a blasé way, her arms crossed, on her chest.

Why did you do that for me?," I whispered even more audibly.

She gazed down at me, but not so cold any longer. “Because you needed it,” she said simply. “And because I need allies in here.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy with implication.

“If you want to make it through this, she continued, “you’ll need to stay calm. Think before you move. And trust me.”

I nodded again, this time with more conviction.

Se-Mi, gave me her hand and I grasped it, I let her draw me up to my feet.

“Come on,” she said, her tone more matter-of-fact now. “This is just the beginning.”

As I stood beside her, I couldn’t help but feel a strange mix of gratitude and fear. Gratitude for her saving me when she didn’t have to. Fear for what would come next.

But one thing was certain: I wasn’t going to make it through this alone. Now, Se-Mi was the only one I could confide in.

#squid game #player 380 #squid game x reader #squid game x you #squid game x y/n #se mi squid game #won ji an #won jian #se mi x reader

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squiddy-god · 1 day ago

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kiss me till my lips fall off

Malleus x reader.

Honestly i have been slowly consumed by twst once again, and i fully believe that malleus deserves to be written like a gothic novel so hear is yet another overly describes malleus fic for your enjoyment. This is inspired by the song “kiss me til my lips fall off” by lebanon hangover

Cw : desperate malleus, he's weird (what's new), reader is the prefect, king! Malleus, set after the main story. Reader is gn

1.4k

Iron would scorn him less than such torment. The ache of your absence weighs heavy on a heart so fragile, so paper thin embers of affection set it to burn. Why? The warm ghost of your touch fills his mind slowly drop by drop until it is flooded with the memory of you. Yes, his mind, a solitary tower constructed to protect his fragile heart and blackened by the flames of his ire. Set against the pricking, twisting, gnarled thorns of bramble it stands alone against the torrent of thoughts. Thoughts of you.

You have cursed him, this fowl curse of longing that grips him. Cold chains that bind his wrist to stone, an iron ring that sears his skin like a brand against his very soul, a simple kiss shared so very long ago…so close yet inexplicably far from his perceived reach, his child of man, his friend. Stone walls cold and smooth to the touch surround him as he perches upon his throne. Tall and imposing, consisting of sharp spikes and spires, two identical seats sit side by side. One remains untouched and empty. Black silky upholstery illuminated by the green flames of the wall sconces bringing out every crevice of the throne. It mocks him, the empty seat. A pitiful reminder of the loneliness that looms over him.

Rain patters against the lancet windows, running across the patterns and peaks carved into the stone and set with glass. The woven banners of emerald and deep tekhelet violet seem to shake as lightning traces across the storm ridden skies. The sun has not yet graced the skies, not yet bathed the mountain snow in the blankets of pink and cream hues that kiss the castle at dawn. The jagged black peaks, like talons and claws, remain ever cold and glossy in the night as it cradles the briar valley. This knowledge does nothing to quell his restless mind, already driven far too frantic by your absence within the walls of his castle. His long cape drags behind him, the only sound that echoes through the high ceilings. Muscles tugging his face to a grin, his unnatural green eyes crinkle at their edges gleaming with mirth.

Surely lilia would agree with him? That this cloying ache in his heart needs to be soothed, that only your presence by his side would suffice in placating these memories of you. Yes, the man would simply chuckle at such a sight, perhaps remark on the childish nature of such night time activities with a wiggle of his brow before taking his leave. So he lurks there in the treeline before your cottage. The simple structure with its charming thatched roof reminiscent of a fairytale, the thought brings a smile to his cold lips. He is no knight returning from war to his love nor is he a prince taken by your charm. He is a shadow, an ever present entity that haunts the steps behind you…yet you welcome him where others flee, and so he is no monster. He is a king, and he thinks for a hopeful moment that you will see that is close enough to the princes of fairy tales. With a strike of lightning caressing the skies above he is by your bedside peering at your sleeping form with those gleaming eyes.

A single memory replays in his head, spinning endlessly to the same tune, a perpetual music box that mocks his beating tender heart. You stand amongst glittering lights, candles in their intricate gold stands and chandeliers, the gleaming pearls on your attire reflect beautifully in the light, and while your visage is obscured by the mask fastened to our face you are no less captivating. Every spin, every twirl, every misstep is engraved in his mind. The memory is written on every stone of the tower that is his mind.

I've spent a million days, I've had many darker days.

I’ve tried everything to block out the pain.

But it just seems to haunt me in every possible way.

The outfit for the masquerade is ill fitting, the result of it being lent by noble bell collage, the colors and patterns that make up its rich embroidery depict flowers and intricate details. Your hand rests in his outstretched palm and he leads you to dance…it feels so distant now, a sweet memory bathed in regret over what he could have said.

He remembers how warm your lips were. He remembers the inquisitive leap in his heart and how he ceased to think or breath as such an innocent gesture overtook him. He had already been hopelessly and irrevocably in love, yet to describe love as anything other than an endless pit where one is forever falling deeper into fathomless depths would be a sin upon itself. He marvels at the goosebumps that arise on your skin at his chilled touch, his slender fingers ghosting over your arms feather light like all those years ago. Without further hesitation he gathers you in his arms, the white fabric of your sleepwear pools around your form like water. The cotton is thin and ghostly against the inky black expanse of his chest and own clothing. Malleus takes care to note your exposed legs, you would be warm soon enough. And all that is left in his wake is the gentle glow of fireflies and an empty bed.

The heel of his shoes clicked against the smooth tile and stone of the long expansive halls until he was met with the imposing wooden doors that lead into the throne room. He would allow himself this one indulgence, a small prize for being so good. He was entranced, even in such simple sleep wear you looked ethereal in the low light. He walked with purpose in his stride as his legs carried him closer to the very twin thrones that mock him. With a sense of reverence he placed you down where you belonged. Your limp body settles into the cold throne and melts into its surprising plush feel…you are a vision bestowed unto him, a beauty in sleep and a proteus jewel in your waking hours.

Do you dream of him sweetly now? As you sit on the throne besides his own where you have always been meant to sit? So you dream of those sweet memories as he does? His head rests in your lap, careful to not disturb you with the curve of his horns. One hand trails devoutly against your calf as the other reaches towards your tilted head and cheek.

Perhaps this is some divine moment of weakness, perhaps the tower in its eternal and solitary expanse has come crumbling down to expose his fragile heart to you. An uncharacteristic cowardice battles the possessive intensity of his longing as he whispers to you those words he longed to let slip years ago.

“Kiss me till my lips fall off”

“Kiss me till I start to rot”

“Kiss me till kingdom come…”

“Forever…forever…”

He repeats it quietly, relentlessly, endlessly until the mantra dissolves into a desperate plea in his throat. Begging and hoping that one day you will embrace him sweetly, kiss him endlessly as he so desires. In his stupor he had not noticed how your eyes fluttered open at his touch, how you sat stunned into a breathless halt and he whispered those desperate cloying words to you in the comfort of your resumed slumber.

“Kiss me till my lips fall off”

“Kiss me till I start to rot”

“Kiss me till kingdom come”

“Forever… forever…”

But as you breathed once again your hands found their way to his hair. Stroking through the soft black tresses and caressing the slopes of his horns, he finds himself captivated by your eyes and their beautiful hue. This is truly where you belong, he thinks, next to him on this throne, next to him in the expanse of his bed and in his arms. So he rises to his imposing height and dwarfs your form in the shadowy expanse of his presence.

Your lips are so soft, so gentle against his own he can hardly pull himself from the sensation enough to return your kiss with fever akin to a burning pyre. He would rot in your arms if it meant he never had to break away from you, he would kiss you until the walls of his mind crumble into sand and the bramble blooms with white flowers if only another second spent with you.

#twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #malleus x reader #twisted wonderland malleus #twisted wonderland #twst malleus #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia #malleus x yuu #twst wonderland

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cthulhus-curse · 1 day ago

Text

Play-Pretend

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,016

Warnings: Mommy Kink, Agatha has a penis, Blow Jobs, Exhibitionism, Public Sex, Degradation, Dom/sub Dynamics, Breeding | 18+ Minors DNI

Summary: In which you and your girlfriend find yourselves in quite the sticky situation in the middle of a club.

You should have known better, really. But then again, you always did like it rough. Well, she always gave it to you in such a way. Not that you would complain — never again.

The lights scatter over your skin. At times they are red while others come as purple, but they don’t help you enough to see through the crowd. You blindly stride through it, head held up high as you make a frail attempt to catch a glimpse of what is far from you. But all you can see is a head of brown hair you know so well. Strands that you often run your fingers upon on display.

“Fancy seeing you here,” You almost have to scream. The bustling club is one your partner had picked out, and all you had to do was show up and sit pretty.

But Agatha is not amused. Quite frankly, she doesn’t tear herself away from the whiskey on her hand until she fully downs it. Minutes pass and you remain standing there, curious eyes gawking at your outfit that leaves little to nothing for the imagination of others.

It is a game the two of you play. Something of a distraction from your busy shared lives that leave you going to bed as early as you leave the house in the morning. Roleplaying of sorts, Agatha had called it, and you went along with it joyously. Because while she often presented herself with unabashed sweetness and softness, when it came down to your shared pretend-time, she let go of any inhibitions.

“You look like a whore,” she spits out, and your knees just about buck.

“Well, I-”

“That wasn’t a question,” Agatha husks, her tone fueled with pure disgust. But by the gods does it do wonders to heave your chest. “Nor did I give you permission to speak. You’ve been a very bad girl today, Y/N. Looks like someone will have to make it up to mommy.”

The club suddenly goes quiet as your sole focus lands on the other woman. She stands tall over you, her heels high enough that she is able to tower over. A predator hunting its prey. And all you turn into is a frail little gazelle who instead hopes to be devoured all night long by the demanding lioness that is Agatha.

“I-”

But before you can dare respond, a hand moves to your throat. Its grip is strong on you, holding on for dear life as fingernails dig into your skin, forcing bits of blood to decorate your flesh. You try to break free, to challenge Agatha, but the woman refuses. She won’t let go, especially not when you so pathetically try to get her to do so nor when the bartender eyes you both curiously from afar.

The crowd around you both is loud enough so your gasps for air are drowned out. No one is looking, nor would they care much, as Agatha pushes you away into the depths of the club. Far enough where no one can hear you, but still somewhat visible if one were to wander far beyond the life of the party.

“I want you on your knees,” Agatha orders. She isn’t asking, but instead forcing you downwards in a matter of seconds. “It’s not a fucking question, Y/N. Get on your knees for mommy now.”

Sinking down to the floor, your knees gathering dirt from it, you nod. Your mouth salivates as you look up at the older woman with a fire in your eyes that she shares. Not even as she begins unzipping her formerly tented pants do you break eye-contact. Those icy blue orbs have a magical way to hypnotize you without even meaning to.

“How dare you? You’re my property, understood? And only I get to see you like this,” Agatha growls. “Stupid pet. I’ll have to remind you who owns you, huh? You’re far too stupid to remember it on your own. Doesn’t surprise me.”

And for good measure, Agatha spits upon your face. The saliva lands right on your cheek, instantly making quick work to travel downwards. But you don’t clean it up – of course, unless you want your girlfriend to truly give you something to cry about.

The sight of her cock springing free from the violet pair of briefs makes you hazy. It is semi-hard, enough that it slaps your cheek slightly before remaining halfway standing. But the more you bore your eyes into it, hungrily planting little kisses along its head, the further it grows. Agatha can only stare down with pride at her girthy member that her hand can barely wrap itself around.

“Open up, sweetheart,” Agatha says, this time softer than the last. But she doesn’t need to say anything as you already kiss your way up and down every single inch of her dick. Kissing the small veins that make themselves known, fondling her balls before oh-so gingerly sucking them. You give her the utmost attention she requires. “There’s a good fucking girl. Just like that, baby. Worship mommy’s cock.”

And that you do.

Your mouth opens wide enough to invite the massive intrusion inside. The salty taste of pre-cum becomes apparent on your tongue as it begins leaking from the rosy tip you enclose your lips around. Grabbing onto her thighs, you steady yourself before slowly moving your head forth. Every passing second, it is as though you take an inch, then another, then another.

Bobbing your head back and forth, you find yourself easily taking almost all seven inches given your years-long preparations. A hand moves to the top of your head, sitting there at first before following along with your movements. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. Until it forcefully moves you further down Agatha’s penis, your lips brushing along her pelvis before you begin to gargle. And even then, she forces you to enjoy it before letting you find a breath of fresh air.

“You look so pretty, baby. You weren’t meant for this. Only to suck off your mommy where anyone can see,” Agatha teases. For added measure, she thrust her hips forth slightly, forcing her thick penis further down your throat. “Mommy’s little dick-sucker. Now that’s a fitting name for a slut like you, eh?”

Her balls ghost over your chin as you vigorously suck her off. With your relaxed throat, you are soon able to take more than she can give you, and you want it all. Her dick begins twitching wildly inside you as Agatha holds onto the nearby wall for dear life. Yet none of it dissuades you. No, you keep drilling her cock into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you tease her flushed head with your famished tongue.

It does not take Agatha long to cum, and by the time she does, your head is left pinned between the wall and her body. Copious drops of cum ooze out of her tip, every single one forced down your throat. And you take them all, not daring to waste even a smidge of the special treat you adore tasting. Swallowing it whole to make your girlfriend proud.

“Did you take all of it?” You watch the woman raise her eyebrows even with the near-lack of light around you both.

“Yes, mommy,” you promise, opening your mouth to show off its emptiness as you took all her cum for yourself. “I’m a good girl.”

“Uh-huh,” Agatha, with flushed cheeks, hums. She motions you upwards, holding out a hand to help steady you along with the wall. “Now, turn around for mommy, baby.”

Frowning, having thought it was over, you begin to protest. “But-”

“Now, Y/N. Mommy still wants to use her best girl,” Agatha feigns a pout. “Be a dear and let me use your pussy, yeah? I promise I’ll make it up to you.” Her arms help you face the wall, hugging you from behind as she presses her messy dick against your ripped jeans. “Mommy just needs to use her little whore for a bit. So stand there and look pretty for me. Maybe put on a show for anyone that wants to watch.” She nearly tears apart your clothes, ensuring that your backside is clear of any fabric while having tugged on your see-through shirt enough, your breasts jiggle out. “Sharing is caring, after all.”

You would be lying if you said it didn’t make a jolt of need flow down your body. “Of course, mommy.”

The bulbous tip of her dick spreads your juicy folds apart as soon as it touches you. Agatha is desperate, refusing to take it slow let alone for wishing to admire her handiwork. To see you so wet, your slickness drifts down your shaky inner thighs. She smacks your cunt with her meat once or twice, giggling at the lewd noise it makes. Yet still not nearly loud enough compared to the music the club plays.

The remainder of the club-goes are oblivious to the way Agatha slams her cock inside you with one swift movement. Such roughness is one she has leisurely been building up to. Her fingernails dig into your hips as every delicious inch of her penis forces itself into your pussy which welcomes it with a tight hug.

“Fuck,” Agatha grunts, a sentiment you soon echo. “Oh baby, your pussy feels amazing.” Her curious hands begin traveling upwards, not ceasing their movements until they find your breasts to grope. “Look how well you’re taking me. You dumb cock-whore.” She slams her waist forth, the head of her penis hitting your sweetest spot. The mewl you let out only heightens her pleasure. “Mommy’s fleshlight.”

The two of you are lost in your own world as you become one. The moist sounds of your pussy being repeatedly abused by your girlfriend’s cock booms across the remote corner of the club you share. The thought of having anyone simply walk far enough to see you being destroyed makes you moan. To be shown off to the world as nothing but a brainless toy for your mommy to use.

Finding the proper tempo, you begin matching Agatha’s ministrations. At first you are awkward, but with each harsh thrust that comes, you grow more confident. Your skins slap together as nails scratch hips further. A haze overcomes your sights, not that you can see anything around you in the first place, as a warmth settles on your lower belly.

“Harder,” you plead, and Agatha is more than willing to listen. “Please, mommy.”

“Anything for you, my girl,” Agatha mumbles, gripping your tits as she fucks into you with might. Slow, yet harsh attacks which stretch your cunt out further. “I’ll fill you up so well, baby. I bet your pussy will look gorgeous. Nice and full of mommy’s cum.”

She explodes within you, her cock jittering once against as it begins spurting out drop after drop of white. You try to move away, to find some solace from the warmth that seeps into your cunt which you are to take. But Agatha does not allow you to do so. Instead she continues moving her hips, forcing her penis to your depths as you are fully bred with her seed.

Her breathlessness is apparent as she stands behind you, peppering sweet kisses along your shoulder. Agatha is quite touchy after the matter, always enjoying a closeness to you after having played pretend with such roughness. And as she moves away slightly, her cock gradually slipping from the hold of your cunt, small droplets of cum begin oozing down your thighs.

“Oops,” Agatha chuckles, shaking her head as she admires the mess the two of you, primarily her fault, created. She rubs her dick over your slit once more, this time garnering an obscene amount of your juices mixed with her seed. “Looks like mommy made quite the mess. Nothing short of what a slut like you deserves.”

With your head already high up in the clouds, you share her amusement. “And who is to say we should stop now?”

#cthulhus’ fanfics #agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness smut #agatha harkness fanfic #agatha harkness imagine #agatha harkness x you #agatha harkness x y/n #wlw smut #wlw fanfic #lesbian #sapphic smut

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call-me-lemon · 2 days ago

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Fuck it ill answer all of them in order

01: hah, no.

02: my cat

03: yup

04: Oh, very

05: Single

06: Im not picky

07: One single buttery round cracker

08: hah, no.

09: not anymore

10: hmm.. has to be several years ago now

11: yup.

12: Longer, even, just to prove that I could.

13: I hate several people.

14: I miss everyone.

15: Several!

16: My stomach hurts but my spirits are high. Im being very brave.

17: nope

18: Not as much as I used to be, but yes.

19: Nah, im good how I am. Things happened how they happened and theyre going to keep happening, so theres no point in meddling.

20: never snogged a day in my life

21: Exist and find joy in the moment. I never plan anything.

22: Nope

23: Nope, I only wear clipons.

24: uhhhh being gay.

25: A few, yes. My friends from elementary school (Primary for the brits)

26: Im not craving anything at the moment

27: I cant imagine so, im not desirable.

28: I can imagine so. My first bf was always flirtimg with anoother guy in front of me and when I told him it made me uncomfortable he just said "Dont worry about it" and we never spoke of it again. I think that counts.

29: Cannot confirm or deny, but its likely.

30: My feet kind of hurt.

31: I hope so.

32: Yellow. Pastel yellow, specifically.

33: Who can say for sure. I cant self-diagnose that kind of thing.

34: Trying to kill my mom in a fit of rage, but nothing I did had any effect on her and she talked down to me the entire time which only made the fit worse.

35: I dont remember.

36: Maybe. I dont like holding grudges, too much effort on my end.

37: for me, forget.

38: Who knows, its barely started.

39: probably either teen or preteen.

40: No.

51: (Fuck it ig we doing 50s now) Fetucinni alfredo

52: Probably not any reason higher than just the way the world is. There is no divine purpose and life is what you make of it.

53: I took my cat to the bathroom and gave her a piggy-back ride back into my room as was her will.

54: Nothing is black and white, but you'd better have a damn good reason or you get put into the pit.

55: Oh, very.

56: Like one or two at most and I did not do well.

57: Nope. In fact, I dislike the idea of having this one true love tied to you by fate. It takes all the choice out of the relationship. Either be with someone the strings of time have chosen for you, or be alone forever. Thats horrifying.

58: Snow and rain. Makes me sleepy

59: Love it.

60: I dont really care either way

61: Nope. I dislike that pet name even tho I use it personally for my cats, but it feels a little bit to demeaning to be used for a lover since in my experience its always been used from a position of power.

62: Living and being free to live.

63: I dont really like my name but I dont have anything I actually do like to change it to. I guess I just dont like being percieved.

64: I would rather kill myself actually.

65: God, I wish.

66: yes. Mostly. For the most part.

67: hermm... The owner of a warrior cats long term rp server.

68: I dont remember, I tend to say extremely deep sounding things at random. Im the stupidest bitch alive but it lets me spout sage wisdom once in a while.

69: No. Love is what you make of it.

70: I would die or kill for anyone I actually care about no questions asked.

70 horrible questions ... Fuck it

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents? 02: Who did you last say “I love you” to? 03: Do you regret anything? 04: Are you insecure? 05: What is your relationship status? 06: How do you want to die? 07: What did you last eat? 08: Played any sports? 09: Do you bite your nails? 10: When was your last physical fight? 11: Do you like someone? 12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours? 13: Do you hate anyone at the moment? 14: Do you miss someone? 15: Have any pets? 16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment? 17: Ever made out in the bathroom? 18: Are you scared of spiders? 19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance? 20: Where was the last place you snogged someone? 21: What are your plans for this weekend? 22: Do you want to have kids? How many? 23: Do you have piercings? How many? 24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)? 25: Do you miss anyone from your past? 26: What are you craving right now? 27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart? 28: Have you ever been cheated on? 29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? 30: What’s irritating you right now? 31: Does somebody love you? 32: What is your favourite color? 33: Do you have trust issues? 34: Who/what was your last dream about? 35: Who was the last person you cried in front of? 36: Do you give out second chances too easily? 37: Is it easier to forgive or forget? 38: Is this year the best year of your life? 39: How old were you when you had your first kiss? 40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked? 51: Favourite food? 52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason? 53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night? 54: Is cheating ever okay? 55: Are you mean? 56: How many people have you fist fought? 57: Do you believe in true love? 58: Favourite weather? 59: Do you like the snow? 60: Do you wanna get married? 61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? 62: What makes you happy? 63: Would you change your name? 64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed? 65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? 66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around? 67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to? 68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? 69: Do you believe in soulmates? 70: Is there anyone you would die for?

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rosenclaws · 3 days ago

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Could I pleasssse request a smut/fluff fic with Logan where he secretly likes the reader and doesn't like the readers bf? The reader is in their early to mid twenties and has been best friends with Logan for years and he snaps one night when her bf is being an asshole 👀 thank you so much 😭

warnings: Angst to fluff, asshole boyfriend, he's mutant hating low key, threats, fighting

a/n: Hehehe i fucking LOVE a good jealousy fic, also I based the asshole ex on multiple asshole exes of my own lol.

Things were well and truly complicated. You always knew what being a mutant meant for your relationship life. Having to dip your toes into the water to see if they the kind of person who wanted your kind dead or if they were more open to the idea of mutants.

Even then you ran into all kinds of assholes. If you could even get past the first date then you'd have to drop the bomb that you work at a mutant school with mutant children. Safe to say your dating life was pretty empty.

"You here again sweetheart?" You roll your eyes when you hear Logan's voice. It's Friday night and you're sitting in the living room of the mansion with a root beer.

“Yeah, so are you.” You bite back. He just chuckles and takes a seat next to you. Spreading his legs until his knee knocks into yours.

“Weren’t you supposed to go out with that kid, what was his name Jacob or…”

“Jason. Yeah he canceled when he saw the pick up address.” You remember the absolute terrified voice he spoke to you in, afraid you were going to melt his bones through the phone or something.

“You really know how to pick em.” You shove Logans shoulder as he laughs.

“Fuck off, I don’t see you getting any action lately either.”

“That’s because I’m not interested in dating some stranger.” He grumbles.

Truth is Logan hasn't been interested in anyone except for you for a while now. Its been years and as pathetic as it sounds Logan was too afraid to say anything. But there's no reason to mess up a good thing right? Plus it's not like you've been showing any interest in him.

“Look, any guy would be lucky to have you sweetheart, you just need to find the right one."

"Feels like I've been searching forever. Feels like I should make a marriage pact or something." You say with a groan.

"A marriage pact?" "Logan questions.

"Yeah you know, if we haven't found someone by the time we're forty we just, get married."

"We?" Your eyes widen and you start to flounder. The last thing you want is for Logan to think you're a creep or something. It's not like you fantasize about Logan or anything. Totally not.

"Not you, I mean if you wanted to then sure but I was just talking hypothetically you know. I mean god could you imagine you and I?" The words tumble out of your mouth with no filter. You just can't stop yourself. Logan cocks and eyebrow and you pray for something, anything to happen to help you shut up.

"Yeah...hard to picture you and I" Logan's face hardens as he talks.

Like he thought before, you don't want him. You could just burst into flames right here and now. The tension is palpable. Logan has been your friend for a long time but he never fails to make you a little nervous. He shouldn't have this hold over you but god he's just so big and intimidating.

"You know what? We should go out." You say abruptly.

"What? Hey give that back!" You grab the beer out of his hand and he looks at you confused.

"It'll be fun please, I'll buy the first round." You offer and he thinks for a second.

"Fine."

You don't really know what drove you to want to come here. It was loud and crowded and you and Logan had gotten separated after the first drink. Maybe you just wanted to avoid the odd feelings you get whenever you're alone with him. Plus that last conversation was awkward as hell.

You sigh as you swirl your drink around. You spot Logan across the room. He's leaning against the wall while a very pretty red head is all in his space. Your heart clenches as you notice the cocky smile on his face and how he's not pushing her away. Guess someone is getting lucky tonight and it isn't you.

"Hey, couldn't help but notice a beautiful girl all by herself." You look to your side to see a guy slide into the seat next to you. He seems nice enough. He's cute and all.

"Oh I'm here with a friend." You say looking back at Logan.

"Yeah, he seems busy to me. The name's Carter. Let me buy you a drink, no strings attached I swear." He offers. You take one last look at Logan, that woman's hand snaking up his arm. Fuck it.

"Alright deal."

Things since that night have been, a little off. You went home with Carter after Logan had disappeared. Carter was nice enough, at least he was at first. He treated you nice, bought you flowers. He didn't care you were a mutant or that you worked at a mutant school. He was the perfect gentleman. For the first couple months.

It happened so slowly you didn't even notice at first. You spent less time at the mansion, instead now spending it with him. The kids started to miss you and so did your friends but you were happy and they were happy you were happy.

You rarely saw Logan anymore. Ever since you came home from the bar he had been avoiding you, or something. Carter would come by the mansion but his nice guy persona seemed to fade the more he spent with everyone. It didn't help that one of your students accidently lit him on fire once. That's when the fights started.

He didn't trust the kids there, said they were dangerous. He would tell you that he liked mutants but h was worried for your safety. And he really didn't like Logan. The first time the two of them met it ended in a fight on the car ride back to his place. Logan was a strong personality and the two men clashed.

Soon every time your job got brought up it ended in a fight. He'd talk bad about your students, about your friends, about Logan. Carter wanted to keep you away from there because he loved you but they were your family.

He loved you, you had to believe it was all because he loved you. I mean you had spent so long looking for a man who didn't care about your job or your mutant abilities and Carter was that guy. At least you thought he was. You won't find anyone better. Carter liked to say that. It's hard to come by someone who's okay with what you are. So you just had to believe he did it all because he loved you.

"Do we really have to go to this stupid thing? Can't we just stay in..." Carters hand snakes up your leg but you bat his hand away making him huff.

A pissed off look on his face as you drive to the mansion. It was a simple staff party but it had been too long since you got to relax with all your friends. Carter had insisted on coming along but right now you wish he had just stayed home, especially if he was going to complain the whole time.

"This is really important to me. We don't have to stay long I promise." You say in a cheerful tone but Carter just rolls his eyes.

"Whatever." It was exhausting. To Carter anything he wanted to do was fine but as soon as there was something you wanted to do it was a chore.

"Don't understand why you're so obsessed with being around these...people." He mumbles under his breath. Not this again. You plaster on a fake smile as you pretend you didn't hear him. He loves you for who you are right?

The party was in full swing by the time you get in. You greet your friends, trying to hide your feelings as Carter says something about getting a drink.

"You finally made it." You turn to see Logan standing behind you.

"Logan! Didn't expect to see you here." You tease. Parties were never Logan's thing.

"I heard you might show up, can't miss that now can I?" He opens his arms and you don't hesitate to hug him. You missed this. Your nights used to be filled with movie nights and late night snacking with Logan. It's been so long since you got to do any of that.

"Hey, is everything okay?" Logan clocks the fake smile immediately. He's noticed the ways you've changed. You're deflated, tired. It's all that assholes doing and he knows it.

"Yeah every things fine," Logans hands rest on your arms, he's about to press you a little further but Carter comes back.

"Hey man get your hands off my girlfriend." Carter almost seems to puff out his chest as if he was trying to appear bigger than Logan. Logan rolls his eyes.

"Calm down bub, just saying hi to my friend."

"Well she's my girlfriend."

"Yeah she's also a person not a fucking object." Logan growls and you step to get in between the two of them. The last thing you wanted was a fight right now.

"It was great seeing you again Logan." You smile as Carter wraps his hand around your wrist.

Logan reluctantly lets go of you as you're taken away by your boyfriend. He feels this anger burning inside of him. Every time he sees that bastard touch you he wants to rip off his damn arms. Every time he sees your smile fall or hears your fake laugh.

"Jealous much?" Scott comments, a smirk on his face as Logan turns to glare.

"I ain't jealous." Logan snaps as he stalks away.

Yes he is, he's very jealous. He's jealous that asshole is your boyfriend and not him. He's jealous that he's not the one who gets to hold you at night and call you his girl. But he was too late. So he's got no one to blame but himself.

Carter hadn't left your side since your moment with Logan. Normally you'd be happy about this but he was doing nothing but complain every chance he got.

"Can we just fucking go home already. You saw your little friends."

"It's barely been an hour Carter. All I asked for was this one thing! These people are my family would it kill you to try and act interested." You snap, finally fed up with his attitude. He scoffs and crosses his arm.

"I am trying. It's not my fault your family are freaks! Especially that fucking monster." He says with an extra glare towards Logan. Heads start to turn as he raises his voice.

"They're not freaks and don't call Logan that! He is not a monster!" You hiss. You've had it up to here with Carter. Everything you thought about him was crumbling down. If this is what love was then you'd rather be single.

"Of course you come to his defense. What are you fucking him on the side?" He spits.

Logan looks ready to pounce but he's being held back. If he could he'd maim this guy until he's nothing but blood and bones. He doesn't care what insult this guy spews his way but the second he disrespects you, all bets are off.

"He's my friend that's why I'm defending him. I will not let you talk about anyone of these people like that! You are nothing but a hateful asshole. You can go home and don't wait up because you're done."

You're seething with anger but there's a sense of relief that washes over you. You can feel every ones eyes on you but you don't care. You turn around to walk away but Carter grabs onto your wrist.

"Don't fucking walk away from me!" You wince at how hard he grabs you and that's when Logan snaps. Like an animal he's on Carter in an instant. Claws out and a murderous look on his face.

"Get your fucking hand off her before I slice it off." Whatever arrogance Carter had was gone in an instant. He lets go of your wrist and grabs at Logan's arm but Logan is unmoving.

"Listen here bub, you're going to get your sorry ass out of here and never come back." Logan leans in, just close enough that Carter is the only one who can hear his next words.

"If you even think of contacting her again I'll find you and I'll rip you limb from limb." Carter scrambles out of Logans grip and falls to the ground.

"You're all fucking insane." He yells as he runs out the door.

There's a weight that falls off your shoulders the second he's out of your sight. You let out a sigh as you turn to face everyone. Some of them were looking at you with pity and others were happy he was finally gone.

"I am, so sorry for ruining the party."

"You didn't ruin the party sugar, we're glad he's gone. Now we can really party." Rouge says with a smile, you're grateful for her as this breaks the awkward tension.

Things seem to go back to normal but you slip outside, not really feeling a party mood anymore. You hear the door open and foot steps behind you. A root beer is placed in front of you and you gladly take it. Wordlessly Logan takes the spot next to you. Man you can't remember the last time you got to sit down with Logan.

"Thank you, and I'm sorry." You say. He shrugs and throws an arm around you, pulling you closer.

"Nothing to be sorry for sweetheart, asshole had it coming." He takes a sip of his beer and you sigh, leaning a little closer to him.

"How could I be so stupid, things went south way before tonight. I just...didn't want to see it."

"Hey, you're not stupid. You were in love." Love makes you do a lot of things. Turn a blind eye or in Logan's case. Pretend like the feelings aren't even there.

"No I wasn't. Not really. I think...I was so afraid of never finding someone that I latched onto the first guy to give me an ounce of attention." You groan. What's so wrong with wanting to be loved huh? Nothing. But you deserve a guy who isn't a complete asshole.

"There will be other guys, anyone would be lucky. to have you"

"Yeah? Like who?" You say with a snort.

"Like me." Logan says simply. Your eyes widen as you taken in what he just said.

"What?" You ask in disbelief.

Logan shifts where he sits. Fuck this isn't how he imagined telling you, in fact he thought he never would. But Carter made him so angry and he'd be dammed if he let another dick come and take you away again.

"Like me, I want to be the lucky bastard."

"I...Logan how long have you felt this way." You ask, a hand coming to rest on his chest.

"It doesn't matter,"

"Yes it does, please. I need to know how much of an idiot I've been." You beg and Logan frowns, he doesn't like it when you call yourself an idiot.

"Years sweetheart, I've been in love with you for years." He confesses.

All this time. He's been there. As your friend, as something more. Too wrapped up in his own shit to say something at first and then by the time he worked out some of it, it was too late. He hates to admit it but that asshole did one thing right, it pushed him to stop hiding how he really feels about you.

"Logan..." You whisper as your lean in close to him.

His hand snakes around your waist and pulls you closer. Your lips ghost each other for just a moment, before he leans closer and kisses you. Your lips move together slowly. Logan groans against your lips as he pulls you even closer, if anyone were to look outside they'd see you practically crawling onto his lap.

His other hand cups your cheek, keeping you right there for him to kiss over and over. A part of you is kicking yourself for not saying anything to Logan sooner. So much pain and annoyance could have been avoided had one of you just confessed, but the other part of you is too happy to care. Too happy knowing that he felt the same way and that he was finally yours.

"I wish we had done this sooner."

"Me too sweetheart, but you have me now." He says as he kisses you again. A thought lingers in your mind and you pull away from Logan much to his dismay.

"Fuck, I need to get my shit from Carters place." You say with a groan.

"Don't say his name ever again," Logan grumbles and you laugh.

"I'll take care of everything so you never even have to think of that asshole." Logan buries his face in your neck, kissing every bit of skin he can reach.

"Now, lets ditch this party and make up for some lost time." Logan purrs.

God there's so much time to catch up on, you mourn what could have been but Logan taps your cheek. Snapping you out of your spiraling thoughts.

"You alright sweetheart?" You nod, shaking your head free of those thoughts. That's all in the past now, it took a while but you found your way to Logan and that's all that matters.

"I've never been better. Now, take me home."

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett angst

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strawberrymochin · 2 days ago

Text

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐚 𝐆𝐨𝐝 ଳ⋆｡˚

Synopsis- On the night of the blood moon, you are offered as a sacrifice by the village chiefs to appease the enduring wrath of the sea god. As your fate unfolds, you find yourself transported to a mystical realm inhabited by enigmatic immortals and powerful deities. Stripped of your soul and surrounded by the unfamiliar, one particular immortal, named Gojo Satoru, challenges your perception of reality and leaves you questioning your very sanity.

Warnings- immortal au!, immortal!gojo x mortal fem!reader, mythology references, asian drama vibes, gojo is a jerk most of the time, the red string of fate, Mithridatism, fluff, heavy angst, suggestive, slowburn, mutual pining, hot geto, gojo again being a jerk, gojo getting dominated by our reader, toxic reader, poisons, blood, murders, forced proximity, no smut in this but reader kisses gojo and that specific scene is...just read it

Word count- 12.03k (trust me)

Trisha's mail- just read it, wrote continuously for hours, and i will edit it later not proofread so ignore the mistakes, happy reading

You have been awfully familiar with the ritual performed for appeasing the sea god— once in every five years, comes the great night of the blood moon.

The night whose darkness swallows the world in its greedy sheen, so deep and thick that it even blows out one single burning flame of hope. The moon on that particular night, bathes itself in red, and an eerie bloom of fathomed anger peers down on the muddy coastal sands— the anger of the sea god.

On that day, a young crane is to have her wings tied, thrown into the sea, sacrificed in hopes of hankering to cool the sea god's fury. As it has been sung by folks and danced on ropes, ancestors say only a bride can dimmen the rage of the sea god's soul.

A crane symbolises a bride— a girl chosen from the shores of eighteen villages, whose beauty is serene; voice spins a melody; eyes speak truth and finger sway in delicacy.

A girl chosen has her hands tied, eyes closed and in the tainted rage of the moon of the night, one drop of blood in the middle of the sea sweeps away a knight. The people who perform the ritual find themselves awake the next day and the bride sacrificed had no trace of her existence lay.

Though you never thought that one day I'd be you, bawling your eyes out, not wanting to give away your life to the cruel god who chose to turn a blind eye to his devotees, for a reason unknown.

Why did the sea god have to be this cruel? Why does he have to gobble down so many lives? And even if he does, why does it have to be you?

His rage has already unfurled enough misfortune in your life, and now it was going to seize your life. What will happen when you will be sacrificed to the sea god? What will happen when your life will be thrown in his mercy and swallowed by the deep of the ocean? What will happen to your father whose only child is you, torn away from his dear embrace?

The village chief among the 5 major coastal villages came forward near you and bent down to your level. You edge backwards, hands bound behind your back, and you keep scooting away till your back reaches the huge plum tree. It's faint scents of fresh and rotten plum trail near your nose. “It will be a noble sacrifice, young lady. You do not have long to live anyways.” he smiled at you with the most sickening polite expression you'd ever seen. “Mmfff” you resist try to speak past the barriers of fabric looping tight at your mouth.

So what if I possess a weak body? Is my life not worth the same as your daughter?

You wanted to spit these words out and you would have, if the fabric tied on your mouth weren't so tight that you could barely even muffle.

He forwards a hand and clasps the collar of your thin robe, dragging you away from the tree. You try to protest, looking horrified, there must be something, some key to run away….

You hear the footsteps of other chiefs surrounding you. If only you didn't help that girl, you wouldn't have to face this. You should have listened to your father's words and shouldn't have stayed out long outside searching for medical herbs, which would heal his health. Especially on the day of the blood moon.

And even if you did, you shouldn't have helped the girl run who was originally chosen to be sacrificed. But you just couldn't ignore her cries, her tear stained face, her pleading eyes asking for a chance to live, looking so similar to the blurred face of your mother in your memories who died during your childhood and which is why you helped her run.

You wanted to feel the rush and the puff in your chest as you dared to help the girl who was about to be another victim of the cruel sea god. And when you did that you felt as if you snatched back your mother's life from fate— from the sea god.

However, one of the guards followed her, and while helping her run home, you got caught instead. And now here you were pleading for your life, for your father who must be worried sick, eyes on the door waiting for your safe return.

A thin sheet of silk is tied around your eyes, one of the men securing the knot, before picking you up on his shoulders and making his way to the coast, where the sea meets the sand.

Soon you will be drowned to death in the name of sacrifice. Is this where your life ends?

You were never supposed to be a sea god's bride; The qualities needed to be chosen as a bride were far away from your hand. You owned a fragile body, sick since birth. You can't even manage lifting heavy weight, how are you supposed to carry the grace of a bride.

But aren't all these just a saying, all stupid beliefs of your dumb ancestors, to come up with such rituals pleasing a god?

If they claim the frequent storms and death of their family members as the wrath of the sea god, and as per the saying, a bride should calm his wrath. Up until this date you're sure more than 100 brides are sacrificed— none satisfied the sea god. None.

And none of them came back.

Because it was simple, that the god didn't care and the ritual didn't work. Or maybe it does work but all the god wants is blood and not love. All he wants is despair, cries and screams of hunger.

The sea has been raging off season, destroying the crops, sweeping away families, causing deaths and even after praying to the gods for their protection what did they do?

Nothing.

At this point you even wonder if the sea god is even real or just a myth.

Whatever it was, you realised none of them could stop fate from seizing your life away.

The guy who had you on his shoulders, threw your frail body into what felt like a flat round hollow structure— probably a boat. You muffle a cough at the jerk your body has to face, not even getting to ease the pain since your hands were tied.

The sound of the night thundering among the clouds, echoed through the vast coast. “So now we sail her away? The sea god won't be displeased finding her instead of the chosen bride? Won't he be angry?”

One of the men questions their doings, unsure if sending you as the bride might fuel the god's rage even more. “She helped Akihiko to run, if the sea god is displeased, he must be happy to punish her himself.”

Another loud thunder bolted among the clouds. If the gods do exist they seem angry, and the only subject of their anger for now seems to be you.

One of the men came near the round boat and took your right palm, causing you to bite your tongue with a shriek as you felt him stabbing the middle of your palm with a knife and then dragging it near the tip of your ring finger.

Tears stain the silk wrapped around your eyes. Do they even sacrifice a bride or murder them? If you're meeting death today can it not be any less painful?

You stilled for a while as you feel the man digging the knife among the tied bunch of fabrics binding your hands together and tearing them apart with its sharp blade.

The crane's wings were not tied anymore. She could run.

But before you make any action on running, or even removing the piece of silk blocking your vision, your body slips to the opposite of your boat—a high tide.

You try to get the silk of your eyes or get off the boat so you could swim your way to the shore but it was useless. The more you tried the more harsh waves played with you. They mocked your every movement, salty water drenching your robes, and its splashing noises squeak out laughing at you. Probably laughing at how weak and helpless you are.

The water is even making the cut on your hand burn even with tingling pain. At this point you were nothing but devastated, you surely realise that you're far away from the shore, and even far from your home. All you prayed for was your boat not being in the middle of the sea.

The movements stilled, the boat danced gently on the waves, you could feel the furious tides shifting into a sweet calm— the calm before the storm.

You raise your hand up, feeling the fabric of silk tied around your eyes, fingers tracing it's knot on the back. Once your fingers find it, you pull one strand of it. The drenched silk stuck close to your wet skin as you peeled it off.

You were about to open your eyes, but something told you not to, as if you were to open your eyes, you would see your world shift altogether. Nothing would ever be the same.

But you weren't dead yet. Even though you realise that you've come really far from the shore, if you somehow make it up, somehow struggle and reach the shore you can make it back to your father.

To your home.

Your eyelids flutter open, pupils slowly adjust to the little amount of light, making your vision clear.

You freeze.

Something was behind you, or I'd be perfect to say something was looming above you, preying on your tiny body. Its huge shadow floated over the cool waters, shielding the only dim red of the moon.

Is this the sea god? The one you cursed so much for causing the death of your mother? The one whose bride you helped eloping?

Is he here to punish you for your deeds or to savour you as his sacrifice? Just like any other soul, each five years.

You dare to look behind your back. If today's the day you meet the serene of death, who has always caged your body till now, you decided to numb your emotions and face it. How long will you be a coward? How long will death haunt you?

There was a creature, its scales shiny, half emerged from water. Gulping down a gasp you raised your eyes up tracing the elongated body till it's silhouette contrasted a sharp dark under the bright red of the moon.

Sapphire blue eyes peered down at, huge scaled head tilting ever so slowly. It was a dragon— a sea dragon. The scene was so terrifying and yet something about the dragon drew you in. It curled his head in a loop before the huge face was right inches near you, letting out a low growl.

His warm breath grazed your skin, so fierce it blew a few wet locks of your hair. The only word your unconscious shouted was ‘run’ yet it was as if you were tranced, your body wouldn't move. There was something so not right with you, and if anything you had this unwanted urge of consoling the dragon, in your arms even if his head was solely 3 times bigger than your body.

His eyes— looked so, what do you even describe, lifeless? Such a huge creature of might, yet eyes were of an unusual drear.

The dragon’s pupils slit at your figure as an unyielding force tugged at your right hand, forcing open the palm, trails of wet blood smearing itself on your fate lines.

The dragon scrutinized your cut and all you could do was look at him, standing still, as if all of your senses were gobbled down by him the moment you looked into his dull blue eyes.

The blood of the bride shall appease the god's soul, a mortal is to be honoured with a sempiternal stroll

You couldn't figure out where the words echoed from, there was no one in the middle of the sea except you and the blue eyed dragon.

Was it him?

In moment you could use any of your senses, the sea erupted in its violent desires and one high splash of the dragon's, tearing his way down the surface of water caused you to lose your balance and fall down the boat.

You panic, fluttering your hands as desperately as possible. You thought before you won't run from death yet your actions caused you to question your resolve.

The dragon spinned his long body in peculiar loops around you. Your erratic movements of panic weren't helping to save the small amount of oxygen still left in your lungs.

With one last try you try to throw your body up the surface, yet all you see is more blood oozing out of your wound and the last bubbles of oxygen escaping in blobs of air.

Your mind grew foggy as eyes could barely make out the blur in the deep waters, your body losing its senses growing limp just like when you looked at the dragon's eyes, sinking down beneath the sea. And the last thing you could make out before losing your consciousness, was the same lifeless unearthly blue eyes.

You open your eyes feeling a sharp tug at your hand— right hand to be specific. You sit up straight as the flashbacks of your desperate cries strike you. Weren't you drowning? How come— you looked around your surroundings, you were in the middle of a lake, on a pavilion. Several blue lotus blooming emitted some sort of strange sweet intoxicating smell. It was as if they were luring you, but if you drowned how come you can still breathe? Is this the immortal land? Are you in the afterlife?

As you were chewing over your thoughts, you noticed something tugging at your right hand and when you brought a closer look to your hand it astonished you, for the wound which hurted so bad was healed without a scar, as if it was never there in the first place.

You might as well think that all of it was nothing but a pretty terrifying fever dream. However, you knew better. The scar did vanish but it left a crimson thread tied around your ring finger. It was floating in the air, rippling as you move, dancing with all the grace, twisting and turning, but most importantly it was tugging at your ring finger.

It was meant to show you your direction to the sea god, the one with whom your soul was bound with yours, the moment you presented your blood to him— the moment you became the bride of the sea god.

The thread kept pulling your finger to a direction wrapped in mist and the sweet smell of the sea petaled flower. You decided to follow it, now that you're already so far from your home you have no other choice but to comply with the current of the river of your fate. You stepped down the marble stairs of the pavilion, mist obscured the path, refraining your vision to even make out your surroundings.

You look back to the pavilion and it was no longer there, the mist swallowed it in whole, if it were not for the glowing translucent thread of blood, you would have been lost as soon as you stepped down the pavilion.

Will it take you to the sea god?

Will seeing you calm his anger? You didn't have any answer to satisfy your curiosity, the fact that even thinking about the sea god makes the veins of your neck pop, your jaw tick surprises how on the entire Earth could you be chosen as his bride.

You don't understand how long you were walking in the mist following the thread floating, elongating and contracting in mid air, showing the pathway of the unseen world beyond your eyes could ever do.

After walking for what seemed like a long time, the thread stilled, a slow burn of fire seemed to run through the string and became awfully straight.

The mist slowly cleared, and in front of you stood a huge dais, over there was a canopy, made from the mother of the pearl reflecting colours so serene, that made your pupils dilate. The canopy was draped with a red fabric, probably of delicate muslin, which allowed to make out the silhouette of the figure sitting in it.

The thread vanished behind the fabric, which only meant that the god who you are sacrificed to was sitting there, on his huge throne.

Unconsciously, you step forward on your feet.

One step.

Two steps.

Three steps.

Raising your hand, you slowly part the veil of secrecy, peering inside, forgetting any poise or courtesy you ever possessed.

Fingers halt midway, no more bunching the fabric to get a proper look, for what you saw inside shook you to the core. Is this the sea god?

A sharp pull on the back of your head, yanked you away from crossing any other borders of seclusion. “Ahhhh” you couldn't help but let out a shout at the grip on the roots of your hair. Someone was dragging you down miserably and when you tried to see who it was you could only make out the vague tresses of long white hair and robes of black.

The hand dragged you by your hair and threw you down the dais, violently till your body hit the cold marble floor and made you cough at its brutal force.

Your chest heaved and burning pain on your head made you look up at the person who inflicted such discomfort.

A man with long silvery hair stood infront of you, his figure was feets above you, hovering as his head peered down at you, expression neutral, while his eyes were veiled with a silk of midnight, robes of similar shadows, some gold streaks running around the edges.

How did the man even saw you if his eyes were concealed to let the light of the world pass?

“Another year of the blood moon has another crane caught.” an unfavorable voice laced through the heavy air, it's tone mocking straight up.

You turn your head to the owner of the voice— a man in violet robes, dragons were finelly embroidered with threads of gold on the hem, his hair was tied up in a knot, upheld by a pin of gold with pearls dangling from it.

He slowly came near you, before crouching down to your level and taking a few strands of your hair to raise to his nose smelling it. “ A favourable crane instead,” you don't like how it sounded, backing away as far as possible.

Looking around the hall you are able to make out a few more people present in the same marble hall as of you, which was probably— no, surely the royal throne chamber of the sea god.

Another man in white and of similar age, to the violet one watched the scene unfold amusingly. Two others were standing a little bit far away from the man who yanked you by your hair.

“Gojo, say what if I have this crane after 13 days, I'm sure you can keep this one aside for me,” the man in violet spoke, something so dark lacing through his intentions. He scoffed with derision, eyes feverishly measuring your each move. “Can't I, my dearest brother ren?”

“Sure brother shota, I wouldn't mind leaving out on this crane, though I must express my condolences on missing out on such a vicious beauty.” the man in White offered a smile of kind to his brother.

Gojo, the midnight veiled man, stepped forward bowing his head down to both of them, ren and shota, who looked like royalty.

“But before that,” ren came near you, his sime as polite as ever, “my dear crane, by chance had a proper look inside the canopy?”

You gulp, the burning sensation of gojo dragging you down the dais by your hair pulsated even more with pain, “n—no”

“My, are you sure you're not lying?” He bent down, one hand gently caressing your cheek, “i-it was dark.”

“That's very good of a situation, our god prefers solitude,” he said, straightening himself up and signalling gojo with a nod. You look at him as he takes out a crystaled knife.

What?

“No wait, don't kill me —please,” before you could say any, gojo caught the crimson of your hand and severed the thread which connected your soul to the sea gods.

The broken string burned with an intense blaze before vanishing away in thin air.

“What did you do?” you ask, horrified at what just happened— a red string of fate was never to be severed, that's what you've always heard but then how?

“Oh nothing young crane, breathe in calm, I will be waiting for you in my parlour.” With that said, shota marked his leave. Ren scrutinized you for a while before following shota out.

Left in the throne chamber was you, gojo and two other men standing a bit far away. Both were dressed in shades similar to the silver haired.

“Capture the crane”, gojo’s voice erupted in a velvet tone, devoid of any emotions. You look at them bewildered as you try to run but it was useless, the other two men, one of striking pink hair and other of a raven caught you from both sides, “sorry little crane, didn't wanted to hurt ya’” the pink haired guy muttered before you lose your consciousness.

“Had a pleasant dream?” The pink haired guy asked, sweeping behind small strands of your hair, you wildly flinch as you dart around your eyes scanning the area. Your hands were tied and so were your legs, just like how the village chiefs tied you up, “why am I here?” You demand answers with a frustrated frown. The room was small and cramped and after all that you've gone through in the span of the last 24 hours you've decided you'd had enough.

“What do you mean little crane?” Said the pink haired guy tilting his head in a confused manner.

“Y/n.”

The boy looked confused for a while before baring a bunch of teeth in a silly grin, “Itadori Yuji.”

“That's your name?”

“Yes it is what people address me as.”

“Okay whatever, mind telling me why am I here?” You grow more and more annoyed at your questions being ignored.

“Little crane, you're the bride of the sea god, it is absolute of you being safe in our protection.” Yuji said with the same wide grin.

“By protection you mean this? If you lack basic knowledge, I shall teach you this is called incarceration.”

“Oh you can consider this being the only means for your protection” his answer made your head pulse with rage, “by imprisoning me? If I am the bride of the sea god shouldn't you let me see him, so that his wrath calms down.”

��Well, speak about wrath less, think about your precious life, if we let you roam outside, in such crucial time of coronation, you won't live longer than an hour or two.” He mentioned casual, straightening himself up and walking to the low table, to plop one carved flesh of fruity apple inside his mouth.

“What?”

“The coronation…the sea god will be replaced soon.” He said gulping the apple before plopping another, “you know our sea god, have concealed himself for ages, ever since the moment he was crowned. The only ones who ever pay him a visit are his brothers, Prince Shota and Crown Prince Ren.”

“The ones in white and violet robes?”

Yuji nodded his head, leaning one elbow on the low table, placing his head on it, and smiled as pure as a kid. “Since you mortals are even stupid than me, you won't stop sacrificing cranes and just like each blood year, a crane— you appeared.”

“So the god my soul is tied to won't be the god anymore?” you ask bewildered, unable to fathom whether to be happy or sad.

“Yeah, it's not like you're tied to him anyway.” Yuji shrugged, causing you to frown at his words. “the bond has been severed by the crystal knife, so you're nothing but a useless mortal in the realm of immortals.”

“Useless you say, so let me go home….my father will be worried for me, he's sick, I need—”

“Speak less, you mere mortal.” The black haired boy from before entered the room, sliding the fusuma doors shut. “Oh Fushiguro, have a bite, these are real delicacy, I didn't knew the zenin houses cultivate such fine produce.”

“Could you speak any less too?”

“God! I still don't understand why you left the zenins to serve our bounded master.” Yuji huffed, picking up another piece of apple pointing it to you, “want some?”

“master? Who's your master, the white haired one? Gojo?” Yuji nodded at you, lowering the piece of apple, “shall i feed you, we are not allowed to free you from thos—”

“Yuji please, let me go back home I need to see my fathe—” you beg desperately cutting him mid-sentence.

“Such an intelligent, vacuous crane, who even chose you to be a bride, don't you understand once you are sacrificed to the immortal realm you cannot go back to the mortal world without your soul?” Fushiguro groaned at you, shutting you from whining anymore.

“Without a— soul?” You ask uneasily, what was that even supposed to mean, you were still alive how can a person without a soul be alive? “But I'm still alive…”

“Just because you are in the realm of the immortals, you cannot go back nor leave this room considering the risk of you getting murdered, not until you become one of us— an immortal.”

“So if I become an immortal I can return.”

“No! How can you be even more dull witted than Itadori, you can leave this room, after that, go find any work to suit your pleasures and work till you earn another chance in life.”, Fushiguro finishes, rolling an eye at you.

“I am not dull witted and just to let you know I had no intention of being around such immortal beings who aren't familiar with a shred of kindness, why pray to you then? And since it was my soul in the first place I have the right to ask, what happened to it.”

Fushiguro raises a brow at you, “considering such fragile body, you sure have a tongue of fire,” Yuji laughs at his comments, “your soul was severed from you along with the string of fate, it will be kept in the house of the death god. Another reason for you to keep your voice down and accept whatever is going on.” said Fushiguro, looking outside the window at the moon, it's glow so illuminating, that the entire room was better off without the half burning wax candle on the low table.

“The god of death?”

“Suguru Geto, the god of death. He owns your soul for now and will be in account of it till the 13 days pass by.” Said Yuji, stretching himself. What an odd situation you found yourself in…will you ever be able to get back?

“But as you said, I am more or less useless to you, why not let me go?” This came out as a whisper, you were doubtful of anyone listening, however Fushiguro sighed, “you're right, but we aren't the one who gets to decide that, prince shota seemed to have taken a liking for you, once the coronation is fulfilled and our new sea god sits on the throne, you will be sent to his parlour.”

“Will talking to prince shota can help get me out of here?” You ask hopefully, while Fushiguro’s eyes darkens, “if anything I would suggest you stay as far away as you can from that certain princeling” with that said he abruptly leaves the room, Yuji’s expression too grave, followed Megumi out of the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the bone gnawing silence as the moon light pours into the room, pooling itself into the tatamis, where you laid tied.

They made it very clear it was unlikely for you to leave this realm, but if you no longer had any connections with the sea god, what's the problem returning your soul to the mortal realm? What could possibly be the reason behind the immortals stealing a mortal soul? And what could be the reason for the sudden coronation?

Prince ren’s voice echo near your ears, causing you to flinch a little, his polite facade wasn't entirely able to conceal the chill in his voice when he asked you if you got a glance at the sea god….and his sceptical eyes studying you even after his brother left. Probably he knew you lied to him, he knew that you saw the sea god and what you saw was sure to make you question your eyes, but then it was not much of a topic to think about.

What could be certainly odd about a sea god that looked half your age?

You don't know what to assume, Fushiguro mentioned the only people to meet him are— Prince Ren and Prince shota, his brothers. So it means they belong from the same family, the same blood runs in their veins, then what could be the reason to crown such a young boy who looked barely ten years of age?

The sea god wore a mask to his face— a dragon mask. Similar to the one dragon who drowned you into this realm. He was dressed in bright blue robes with delicate threads of embroidered lotus, dragons and clouds sewn perfectly to match his unearthly young presence. The mask on his face was painted in an expression of slumber, as if a dragon sleeping and—

But this is not the time to reminisce about the sea god’s attire, not to mention just a few days to go, when the young boy would no longer bear such a heavy title, for his age.

Suguru geto, the death god was the one to possess your soul, and if only you could go to his house, it would benefit you to steal your soul back from them, but your hands are tied and so are your legs.

You dart your eyes around the room, there must be something, anything, any sharp— you glance at the plate of crisp apples, cut in beautiful shapes and placed over one another in a decorative way, next to it layed a small fruit knife, sharp enough to cut past the fabric bound around your wrists and feets.

Awkwardly you struggled near the low table in your restricted position, wriggling and squirming, close enough for you to grab the knife with your mouth.

Seizing the knife with your mouth you let it fall beside you, as you reposition yourself in order to pick it up with your tied palms and cut through the fabric. After what seemed for such a long time, is when you feel the fabric loosening up and finally letting your hands free of restriction.

You immediately massage your wrists and get down in the work of freeing your legs, once you get done with it, you peer out of the window.

It seemed like you were in the second floor of a wooden pagoda, surrounded by a lake and small connected pavilions to make commuting easy, the problem was sneaking outside the pagoda seemed enough with risks if not getting caught by anyone of them, considering how busy it was even at what seemed like already midnight?

You let yourself calm down, all you need is to sneak out of this specific pavilion, you can trick immortals asking for the god of death, right? Except they would recognise you as a mortal instantly. Still you couldn't seem to keep your feet in this pavilion, you wanted your freedom back, you wanted your soul back.

Sliding the doors very softly you speculate the corridor which seemed empty for now, you waited a while to finally set a foot outside, for now your plan is to just somehow or the other make your escape from this pavilion.

Your heart thumped like drums in your chest, when was the last time you ever showed this defiance, you don't remember. This was probably the first time.

You took a few steps out in the corridor, when a hand clamped around your lower face, the movement was so fast that you could barely sense anything, rather think any. Its iron grip forced you backwards, till you noticed you were back into the small room, and the sharp sound of doors shutting closed behind you.

You laid stricken to the tatami floors, the hand still locked around your jaw and a huge figure hovering over you.

Gojo.

His Silver long hair pooled on the floor as he supported his body with one hand while pressing you down from any movement with the other. He snuck his veiled face near you, “Don’t. Even. Try.”

“Mfffff” you tried shouting yet nothing came past your clamped mouth except pressed muffles. You were just so, so close yet he has to come right on time to snatch that one ray of hope from you.

You protested, trying to thrash out of his grip, yet your body moved none, and the more stronger the grip of his hands became that at one point you felt he would crash your head right on the floor staining the tatami red.

Were you scared? Yes.

The man, supposedly named gojo, still had his eyes veiled on the very midnight sash you'd seen before, yet you felt like it was staring at your soul. Not liking the feeling, you pressed down your nails into his skin scratching it down till drops of blood start oozing out. Yet he didn't move an inch.

You throw a hand at his face trying to make another desperate move of your leave, pulling the veil down, till it unloops entirely, falling down on the floor, along with your hand.

You stilled, your movements stilled, he stilled.

His eyes sparkled in a distant bright, hollow black that makes you shiver in fright. His pupils were black, entirely black, glassy and vacant. It was as if you weren't staring into a man’s eyes, but rather a void of such murky iniquity, that even the night of the new moon might turn out being shades lighter than his sinful eyes.

Gulping hard, unable to breathe, you tap two times on his hand, whose grip he loosened further, he stared blankly at you, with no expression on his face, it was as if he was a statue himself, hollow from inside, even more dead than a dead plant in the hot of a desert.

You let out a shaky breath, unable to tear your eyes away from him nor move your body in anyway. Your eyes started burning, tears brimming up your eyes at the sheer amount of fear you're experiencing. But you didn't want to cry, you just didn't want to show that you were afraid— Afraid of him.

He yanked you by your hair before, slammed you on the floor, most importantly he hurted you. And you wanted to do the same, even when you were scared of him.

Near your hand, layed the fruit knife perfectly in reach for you to grip, and you do so. You grab the knife and aim to stab it right at his neck. And you do so. You stab right at his neck yet the knife would pierce through his skin. You noticed a subtle space which prevents the knife from touching his skin. So was the case with his hand, which wasn't directly touching your face now, it was a slight space of void pressing you down on the floor.

You looked at gojo, staring at you with the same face without any sarcasm or humour, as if he felt finding your little attempts to escape humourous was not even worth mocking. You felt even more shame and embarrassment creeped up your face.

“Master!” Yuji's voice rammed through the room. Gojo’s hollow pupil moves to the side, before he gets off you, finally letting you out of his grip, before grabbing the piece of midnight silk and looping around his eyes again.

You cough and back away to the corner of the room, the knife still in your hands.

Yuji threw a concerned look over you, fushiguro was standing behind, face unreadable. Gojo turned over to them, “tie her up well and make sure there aren't any weapons near her to help her escape”

The boys nodded at the white haired man who was about to take his leave, “wait! Gojo!” You shout, causing him to stop his movements. He turned back facing your frail body. His eyes were covered behind the fabric, still he faced you as if he could see you right through the fabric, or maybe he did see you right through his fabric.

Maybe you're forgetting that all of the persons present in this room are immortals, except you, they are sure to possess some otherworldly power.

“I want to see the god of death. Please take me to him, I give you my word I won't try to escape. Please.” You demand, eyes pleading even if you didn't like the idea of begging to this certain guy.

And yet. You did.

Gojo remained still for sometime, before turning his back and leaving you alone with the other two boys, not faltering the vacant facade.

What? You swear you'd kill this guy, if he were any near, and if there wasn't such a power difference between you two.

“Listen, little crane, your demand is far away to be fulfilled.” Said Yuji coming near you, a rope forming in between his hands as a he makes a certain gesture, probably his magic. “Why? All I want is to see the god of death—”

“You dull-witted crane, that's not possible.” Fushiguro taunts you, massaging his temple with two fingers.

“My name is y/n and I'm not a crane. I am a human and yes a mortal, and I want my soul. If I serve no purpose to your god now or in near future why not serve my demands. I am unable to understand why I have to remain as a captive of you. And why can't I see the god of death?”

Yuji sighs, “its not as easy as you think, it would have been possible for you to meet the god of death, if the friendly bond between master and him wouldn't have been severed.” He stated blandly, winding the rope around your wrists. Fushiguro gets annoyed at yuji reciprocating your answers and leaves the room.

Not paying any heed to his exiting figure, you ask “why? Why happened between them?”

“Hmm?” Yuji hums at your questions, before making up a troublesome expression, “well a lot happened at once. You see, our master and the god of death suguru geto were quite good friends but since the last few years nothing has been the same. I don't know the details, but the news was in the air that it was in regard of the sea god.”

“The sea god?” You ask, the fact that hollow guy you faced right now, was capable of being in a friendship was strange enough for you to twist your face, especially with the god of death.

“Yeah, and then they had a huge fight, in which a very dear friend of suguru got hurt, since then both of them aren't on speaking terms.” Yuji stopped looping the rope around your wrists, about to bound them in a knot again, when you distract him with another question, “why? Why did they fight over the sea god?”

“You see, the god of death is severely against the reign of our current sea god. He has always made a strong opposition to the sea god's decisions, even though the crown binds all of us to the words of the sea god. This also counted as another reason for the passing down the crown to Prince Ren.” You clasp Yuji's hands, pressing them a bit and he grows a bit flustered, if the only person who can get you out of here was Yuji Itadori, who seemed too innocent and kind. Never have you ever thought of using someone’s kindness to your favour, but when even gods were selfish who were you to walk on a path of morals.

“Yuji, please I promise I will not escape, please take me to the god of death,” Yuji backs away, freeing his hands from your grip, shaking one palm at you, “that's not possibl—”

“Please Yuji, you're the only one I can trust. Help me, just let me go once to see the god of death, I swear I will not run.” You assure him with pleading eyes, nearing him till you get hold of his hands again. “Please.”

“Little crane, I am not allowed to let you leave this pagoda…” his stubbornness to his higher ranks made you leave any hope you had for seeing the god of death when, “but I wasn't instructed on helping you or not.” he tilted his head in a fond way and frowned his eyebrows with a sad smile on his face.

“Huh?”

“Maybe it's best to retrieve your soul back, no matter what. You must retrieve your soul back, and return to the mortal world as fast as you can. So I guess I will help you run to the house of death god, but beware of the wolves, you won't want them catching you on the way.” Yuji said, unlooping the rope off your wrists before snapping his fingers to dispel his magic.

“Thank you, thank you so much Yuji!” You expressed your gratitude, to the pink haired, feeling sad he had to serve such a severe hollow master.

“Now listen to me very carefully, I will kiss your forehead with my magic, it will conceal you from the other prying eyes for a few moments of time, say about and hour or so,” he stops whispering and walks near the door making sure fushiguro isn't present near. Being sure he walks back to you and continues, “during that one hour of your concealment, you must leave the Tsubaki pagoda and at least be about a mile or two away from the entrance gate.”

You nod trying to process all the information together, Yuji was dumping on you, “and while you do that, you must make sure not to cross or be any near master gojo, stay as far away as possible. He can sense reeks of my magic and my concealment is very feeble in his eyes, he would recognise you in a second so do not ever cross paths with him.” You nod at yuji, your heart thumping as if you were about to face a war, and the way his voice had the serious hint in it, you were sure that running into gojo would be the last thing you want in the entire world.

“As soon as I conceal you run from here, no one will be able to see you, take the left corridor and search for the nearest stairs leading to the floor underneath. Find the door with a huge old camellia flower carved on to its body, that's the back door…you will take the way to the left pavilion and not stop running, still you cross all three of them and exit the main entrance. Remember even if you exit the entrance don't stop running, run as far as you can. And if you see any group of people with designs of wolves embroidered, do not linger around them, ask the commoner to show you the path to the house of death god and they will.” He shuffles his one hand inside the sleeve of his robes, and takes out a thread of gold coins, shoving them to you.

“Give them these for payment and you will be just fine, insist them to drop you near instead, it's dangerous roaming alone. When you meet suguru geto, beg him for your life, he won't agree to give your soul back right away so crack a deal with him, offer him something precious to you and he's sure to help. If he insists having your soul till the coronation let him be but ask him to hide you in his house till the thirteenth day, and once you have your soul back pray to him to send you back.”

“And he will?”

“Probably. Keep praying till he agrees, no matter what he is still a god, if you devote yourself to him with pure heart he is bound to comply.” Yuji explains, dragging you near the door, one hand cupping your cheek gently.

you never had a brother, which always made you wonder how it feels to have one. Now you might have an answer to this. Yuji brings his lips to your forehead. “Run as far as possible, little crane” he whispered before pressing his lips to your forehead. A tingling sensation coursed through your veins and the moment you open your eyes, Yuji rushes you out of the room.

You run.

You ran and ran and ran. Two times nearing the failure of Yuji's concealment, when you passed near fushiguro but he was busy in conversation with a official in fancy robes. And the second time when you were about ten fleeting steps near gojo. But you ran. You somehow ran. And you're pretty sure you're miles away from the pagoda, which Yuji mentioned as Tsubaki pagoda— domain of gojo.

Your chest was heaving, throat itching of thirst, and your knees were shaking from running so long. The place where you were in currently resembled a busy market in the immortal realm, yet you could barely find people as it was still very early in the morning.

You didn't sleep for an entire night, the thread of gold coins Yuji gave you jingled heavy in the small coin purse which belonged to your mom as you walked around finding a place to sit.

Retiring yourself under a big osmanthus, you let out a breath, reflecting what you went through just in the past few hours, which now had been a day and a half you'd say to be exact.

You sit up straight, noticing something weird. Ever since childhood you couldn't run a mile distance without coughing or gasping for a bunch of oxygen which seemed to be slipping from your lungs. Yet, you ran continuously for an hour and probably more than that, and nothing really happened?

The thing just didn't sit right with you. But it was useless finding this thing odd, which could probably be one of the perks of Yuji's magic.

You huff out another breath leaning your back on to the bulk of its massive trunk. Breathing in the trails of its honeyed sweetness, with delicate hints of sun warmed peaches and somewhat complex undertone of the scene of rope apricots dancing in between— you gulp, trying to ease your thirst.

The smell of osmanthus relieved you, reminding you of your sweet home, where your mother once cradled you, where your father taught you how to walk. Feeling nostalgic and worry seeping in your thoughts of your father's health, you look up not wanting to cry.

You squint your eyes as you see a silhouette of something, deliberately peering down with curious eyes. You shriek of horror as you realise it was a figure of a girl, hurrying away from the osmanthus.

Sensing your panic, whatever the thing it was, landed on the group with a smooth jump— a girl....who seemed kind of human.

“Umm—”

“What are you doing here?”

“Shouldn't I be the one asking you this as you were hanging on the branch of the tree like a dead corpse?” You burst out, trying to calm down your pacing heartbeat.

“Dead? Aren't you dead too?” She said in a tone which caused a gush of familiarity, where have you heard it before?

“I am not,” you say, the girl who looked awfully cheerful, came near you, “do you need my help standing up?” She forwarded a hand which you refused to take. “No.” You said standing up on your own and dusting your clothes.

“You smell….very…very mortal.” She commented, pouting at you causing you to gulp, she realises the smell yet not able to distinguish you, “is that so? Do you want something?” You try to change the topic, unwilling to discuss any about your mortality.

“No. Nothing. Just curious about something heavy jingling on that very beautiful coin purse of yours.”

Oh.

“Well, I will be very happy to give you some if you do me a favour.” She jumped at you with curious eyes of excitement, “what favour? Yes I will.”

“umm..I would like to visit the…god of death, do you know where his house must be?” You ask not wanting to sound too obvious, afterall what business might a commoner would have with the god of death.

The girl nodded without any further questions and gestured to you to follow her, by now you forgot about your thirst and not wanting to lose track of her, you followed close by.

The girl left with some coins of gold leaving you at the doors of the huge palace which is known as the house of death. You sneaked in, through the gates, feeling no less of a thief, the palace guards were not present near the gate so you didn't have anyone to take permission from, which was to your advantage. You wouldn't want to spread the news of your escape.

After crossing two huge shrine-like gates, you enter a palace finding no guards there too. Following an elongated corridor you check the entire floor before taking the steps to the upper floors.

Even after checking the entire palace you found no one. Did the girl trick you? And now you ended up in an abandoned palace, with no surety of—

“Any problems, young mortal?”

You flinched at the voice behind you, a man stood behind you, tall enough to hover over you, somewhat near gojo, you could see hints of black yukata with some gold robes. Under the chilling intensity of his gaze, you slowly turn back to face him.

He was awfully beautiful, to be termed as the feared god of death. Black streaks of hair falling down while half of them were tied in a knot, his eyes held a curved sinister gaze as lips twisted in another pout. “Tell what mortal, you come in my house, take a look at each and every corner in here and when I decide to appear in front of you, you freeze?”

“God of death?” You ask, even though every single hair on your body knew whose presence you were under.

“Yes, I am the god of death, Suguru geto.” He said before letting out a chuckle “What demand do you have? You want your soul back?”

“Yes! Please give me back my soul, I wish to return to my world, please I beg you—”

Geto lets out a laugh before coming extremely close to you, till your back hits the wall and he is hovering over you, face inching closer each moment, “and why shall I? If satoru gojo expects me to return your soul, I must make it clear, poor thing. I. will. not.” he says, tucking his index finger beneath your chin plopping your head up to face him.

Tears brim down from your eyes, “what does it have to do with gojo? I came here to expect help from a god, a god who is expected to help his devotees. And if you don't know what the sacred relation between a god and a devotee is, you should know better to leave your position.”

His face twisted in mockery, the index beneath your chin slid down to grab your throat, hand tightening around it, strangling you, making it difficult to breathe. “You sure have a lot to say, but my dear crane, you should think properly, what sacred relation? I am the God of death. I am to be feared not to be prayed. I am not to be worshipped, but to be dreaded.”

“Isn't death the start of a new life?” You choke your words out, “doesn't that mark you not only as the god of death but the god of life?”

“You speak too much mortal…the god of life is the sea god, who has ignored all of your pleas of help for decades, he trampled down on all of your cries and you expect me to—” you can barely make out what he was saying, your mind was growing dizzy and your body was going limp. Yuji’s voice echoed from the back of your mind. ‘crack a deal with him’ he said.

“I will give you anything you want, return me back to my world, to my father.” Your voice came out in a choked whisper, geto stared at you for a while, before loosening his grip on your throat, “too late, I expect another visitor.”

You look behind geto to see prince ren staring at both of you with unreadable eyes, his calm demeanor sent chills to your spine, “did I interrupt your fun with the mortal crane?” He asked, his voice was nothing other than composed, “what if my answer is a ‘yes’...”

“Guess I will have to apologise, however the crane is already decided to be taken under my brother, so—” geto interrupts him mid-sentence. “Oh don't worry, I'm not interested in hunting cranes from the very beginning, crown prince ren.”

“Ah, I guess then we can leave her out of the conversation.” Prince ren's face displayed a polite smile as geto skims his fingers to your forehead head, rendering you unconscious.

The next you opened your eyes, you found yourself tucked in a bed, mattress filled with what seemed very soft cotton, the room you were in seemed different than the rooms of the house of death, shifting yourself out of the feathers you walk up to the door, feeling uneasy about opening it or not. You had no idea where exactly you were in or who might be waiting outside this room— the death god? Prince Ren? Or gojo?

You could hear something going on, as if an interrogation, “I am the one responsible.”

A chill runs down your spine, you slowly part the doors creating a small gap enough for you to peek in. You see prince ren moving in circles and the one standing still was— gojo.

You were back in the Tsubaki pagoda. Cursing yourself mentally, you feel your hands getting clammy, all of the hard work for nothing? You traveled so far to retrieve your soul from geto suguru yet—

“So you're telling me you're the one responsible and she ran away without receiving any help from your subordinates?” Prince Ren asked him as he stood silent. His face was still the same expression, vacant.

“Might be so when you render yourself responsible. Must take the responsibility. Grab the knife near and stab right through your hand”

What?

The prince said it so casually as if it meant nothing and you could only widen your eyes when Gojo took a knife and stabbed it right through his palm.

You gasped, trying to calm down your breathing, the sharp blade was still stuck in his palm as blood slowly trickled down tainting the tatamis.

Unable to see anymore, you shut the door and return back to the bed. Your hands were shaking, whatever you saw you no longer understood what you felt, because why would you feel such extravagant unfurling of excitement when gojo did stab right through his hand. Why would your hands shake of envy instead of fear, wishing you would have stabbed it instead of him.

You try to shake off these thoughts from your mind. What the heck were you thinking anyway? Yes he did yanked you by your hair, seized your jaw and threw your fragile body to the floor, even ignored your pleas, but it doesn't mean he deserved that…right?

You had no answer.

What troubled you even more is his expressionless face, who didn't even display a hint of pain at such a brutal attack, inflicted by himself. What exactly was wrong with him?

You decided to care less. What mattered more is the movement of the doors which opened to reveal prince ren. He entered the room with his calm demeanor, and polite expression.

You cannot fathom how he was the same person who made gojo stab his hand in just one order.

“You're awake.” He said nearing your bed, and dismissed your effort of standing up with a hand gesture. “Do you feel better now?”

“Yes, I do prince ren.” You bow your head, “that's great, I was quite worried for you,..”

“Worried? Excuse my words but why must the crown prince worry for me?”

“I just happened to make an observation,” he settled on a chair near your bed, picking up some freshly cut pears and passing it to you, wanting you to have it. Not wanting to refuse the prince you comply with his desires, “that your body is quite frail, how long have you been practicing it?”

“Huh? Practicing? Practicing what, your highness?”

“Mithridatism.”

You still, no more chewing the fleshy fruit rather gulping it down, “ah…I apologise I don't get it.”

“How long have you been poisoning yourself?”

“Why would I poison myself?”

“Oblivious. Aren't you? Your body reeks of strong poisons, these veins on your wrists, don't you think they are too blue, too noticeable? Since you seem to know nothing about this, it concludes your parents or specifically your father, the one you're so desperate to return back to— has been poisoning you little by little for years.”

“You're sprawling nonsense…” the prince chuckled in amusement, particularly not minding the lack of your poise, “am I?” He picked up another piece of pear, going to the other corner of the room, where caged was a little swallow. The small bird innocently fed on some of it as the prince smiled, humming a tune which made you uneasy.

“What exactly are you doing prince ren?” You couldn't help but question his actions. Whatever he was doing didn't feel right. “Hmm, just feeding a bird.”

You watched him confused, a while later the bird fell off the perch, the little swallow was dead. “What?” You're breathing quickened as you realised what exactly the prince was implying. “I fed the same poison to you and this bird, yet you're still alive whereas the bird is not, do you know what that means? It means your body has been consuming poisons for so long that it has grown immune to it....”

You swallowed thickly, unable to form any words, the prince came near you, “I wasn't sure so I decided I'd try experimenting.”

“And what if you were wrong…what if..what if I died?” You ask, letting out a calculated breath, trying to process whatever truth about you were getting enlightened on. “Then I could have blamed your death on the enemies, plus who would care for a crane.”

You still couldn't believe it, you didn't know why you agreed to the prince’s terms but you did. For you had no other choice, the prince promised you anything you want would be granted if you spy for him. All you wanted was to go back home to your father, but all this while he'd been poisoning you? You didn't know what to feel about it. You said you'd take time thinking about what you want after all the prince wants is for you to spy for him in the Tsubaki house, and report any interaction between prince shota and gojo.

“Why prince shota? Isn't he your brother?” You questioned, when he chuckled at you, “brother by blood is a crack forged on a sword. I do not grant my trust simply…”

“But you're trusting me to spy for you…”

“Since you're bound to follow my orders. And I know you don't trust me nor I'd ask to. Only a fool would make such a mistake.”

“I'm not bound, I am meant to be taken in by your brother, and If I want I can reveal it all to him, about how you ask me to spy on him.” you hiss your defiance at him, which twists his court smile into one of satire.

“oh do you think you will be safe under his wing? Young crane, have not understood him yet, he's a hunter, all he wants to do with you is to green-gown you, and once it's done he will throw you away to get you used by his followers.”

You felt numb, confused and lost. It was too much for you to take and too much for you to grasp, unsure of what was happening around you.

He even removed restrictions on you being held captive. you were free to move as long as you're inside the boundaries of the Tsubaki house. All you had to do is spy on each movement of gojo; let the other spies of prince ren in the Tsubaki house and report to him your observation. And in between all the 10 days you've spent in the Tsubaki house near gojo, Fushiguro and a guilty Yuji who has been avoiding you, nothing happened which needed serious report.

It was the day of coronation, a three day function to celebrate by the immortals and vow their oath as a new king is crowned. You heard Fushiguro speaking to Yuji about how prince ren isn't going to start his reign with the blood crown passed down since generations, rather he ordered the forging of a new blood crown, which is why this coronation would be three days long.

And as promised, after his coronation, the prince would grant you anything you want, but what would you ask? You had nothing to desire anymore. Except for your soul, and even if you have your soul you'd have to go back to the mortal realm— to a father who poisoned you.

But staying is even worse, it'd question your chastity.

The royal chamber swayed with immortals of high ranks and officials, you notice the other kins to the royal family—Princess nanako and najimi. You also spot the betrothed of prince ren, lady harumi.

The god of death soon made his arrival and so did the god of wind and goddess of motherhood and even more, that you struggled remembering their titles.

Prince Ren made sure it was perfect, and it was until— princess nanako, the eldest kin to the sea god clan, came forward, her hand glazed with the new blood crown, gold threads of pearls suspended to it. The former blood crown laid behind the canopy, on a low table, where the soon to be former sea god sat on his throne. Its silhouette is visible to all.

The new oaths were to be taken and the crown was soon to be adorned on the prince's mighty head— as long as he had a head.

Prince shota twisted his sword, wrenching the guts of his kin, his eldest sister before drawing the sword back, her screaming figure fell to the floor, so did the new crown.

Everything was a mess, the crowd freaked out and when Ren came protesting with a sword ready to fight his kin, it was the god of death stabbing him right through his stomach.

He betrayed prince ren— for prince shota. And the next you blink your eyes you see Ren's head cut off rolling on the marbled floor.

You felt something wet on your face. These 10 days you've been convinced you couldn't feel anything yet when you raised your hand to wipe it off your face, expecting to see the splattered blood, you see your tears, spilling continuously from your eyes.

Prince Ren was dead. And so was your only guarantor of your wish. Even though you couldn't trust him, prince shota is even more not to trust, now that you knew what his intentions with you were.

You dart your head around, coming out of your daze, you need to run as fast as you can from this place or else you will be dead meat. Everyone was running here and there while some took the scene in amusement. The goddess of motherhood, who was supposed to be kind, glances at the scene, quietly sipping on her drink, not a single drop of motherly kindness glazed in her eyes. It was as if she was enjoying the indiscriminate slaughter.

You shift your focus to fushiguro and Yuji, who seemed to help commoners get out of the high palace. Gojo was nowhere to be seen, you make your way to them when some commoners among the massacre take out their grudges, seeking this as their perfect chance to get away with a murder.

Horrified you fall back, your robes are now tainted in red, you don't know how or from where, pushing past crowds of so called immortals, you find yourself in a secret chamber, where the figure of gojo, seemed to be in a daze.

Bewildered, you grab a candelabrum, posing as a weapon to any threat he displays. Gojo, who seemed to have noticed your presence, didn't stand up, rather stayed stuck to his place. His long white hair fell from the top of his ribbon knot. The piece of midnight silk was discarded on the floor, “y/n…” he said.

Hearing your name from his mouth sounded unfamiliar to you. For a moment you found yourself contemplating if you heard it right, and then doubting he even knew your name. He takes a step forward to you, “Don't you dare…”

Gojo stills at your words, before asking “dare what y/n?”

“Don’t come near me…”

“....I understand. I won't. And I can't.”

You frown even more. He just simply agreed? Something about him doesn't sit right with you. It just doesn't. Taking your surroundings properly you notice, he wasn't sitting on the chair, rather he was plopped perfectly bound to the chair, chains of metal wrapped around wrists and feets, securing him tight, unable to escape.

You swallow an unwanted bubble of laugh creeping past your lips. He, once ordered to enslave you, was here captured and chair to a mere chair. What a shame.

Gathering more confidence than you needed you put the candelabrum down and search around the room until you find a perfect piece of dagger— to threaten him.

You already have enough of it and it's not like days spent in this immortal realm made you any less crazy. “And who dared to bind you to this mere chair?

“Suguru.” face still devoid of any expression.

“ahh I see, you kind of deserve this.” you mock, staring into the hollow eyes of the white haired, till you felt something so overpowering that you turned your head away. “Oh.” He said.

“And you won't attempt running away?” You say grazing the tip of the dagger down his face to his neck, wondering if the space barrier would avoid the tip touching the skin but it didn't. “I am not allowed to…”

“And why so?” he didn't answer you for a few minutes, before you realise he doesn't want to answer you, when you press the tip of the dagger more firmly to his neck.

“.....a curse.”

You tilt your head, amused, finding it hysterical. So the gojo satoru, head of the Tsubaki house, and the right hand of the dead crown prince all while bound to a mere curse, “what curse?” you interrogate further, unable to best yourself taking advantage of his situation.

“...a curse which binds me to words.” You pinch your brows together, at which he explains further, “of any person imposing those on me.”

“So you won't be able to do anything unless someone tells you to…” he nods, “and by that you mean anyone?” He nodded, hesitation peeking his vacant face for the first time, exciting you even more. You still find it hard to look straight to his dark hollow eyes but the way knowing about his weakness courses energy through you, you find yourself mocking him, staring right at his eyes.

“even me?” You ask in a knowing tone, already guessing his answer at the delay of his response, “I'd count that as a yes.” It is fun. Why did you even come here in the first place, you didn't remember, but seeing him, satoru gojo weak, had you giggling inside your head.

“So gojo, you know that I hate you…right? What do you feel about me?” you ask, bringing your mouth near his.

“If you want an answer, I would like to reciprocate the same feeling of hatred, which you hold in account for me.”

“And how would you feel, if the person you hate so much had you underneath…” you closed a bit more distance between you both, similar to the situation you'd been in before, when he hovered over you, limping your body to the floor. His eyes still had chills running down your spine yet you refused to look away. “I'd be humiliated.”

“Is that so? How about you kiss the person you hate instead, that'd be even more humiliating, don't you think.” gojo doesn't answer you, rather slips his eyes down to your lips and gulps as you bring them even closer. You press the dagger in his neck, piercing his skin, yet he didn't seemed as alert as when you bring your other hand near his hair and yank his head.

“Isn't this what you did to me? How does it feels?”

Gojo doesn't answers you, bringing your head near, you open your mouth to ask again, when gojo tilts his head at you, as if begging to— you near his lips as he captures yours with a devouring kiss.

His lips moved around yours, sucking the plump of your fleshes so feverishly, if you didn't knew better you'd think he has been secretly craving for you all this time, but you did know better, he was just disgusted by the fact that he was kissing you. And it humiliated him, the first expression you've ever seen in his face, as you find hits of crimson slowly spreading across his ears.

His lashes brushed against your skin, and in order to humiliate him even more, you let go of the dagger, hands cupping his cheeks deepening the kiss.

You slipped your tongue in his mouth, as gojo sucked on your sweet juices, the tingly sensation seemed to grow your brain mushy, when all of a sudden he pulled away.

“What happened?” You blink innocently as you watch him coughing, and wheezing, soon followed by blood spilling out of his mouth, staining his robes.

“Oh, I might have poisoned you…” you forgot you had the toxin of the crimson lily before on your way to the high palace. Or maybe you didn't.

Gojo halts his coughing a bit as he looked up at you, he spits blood from his mouth, some dripping down his chin as a smirk spreads across his cheeks, causing you to take back your taunting smile.

His dark pupils dilated, and if you weren't hallucinating, you might have seen his dark eyes break out in a colour of brilliant blue.

“What vicious plan are you plotting against my heart y/n?”

tags- @teddiiursulas-ink @jkslaugh97

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