#bitter & sick by one two you will always be famous | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lilystyles · 10 months

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stuck in the middle with you.

part seven of the no strings attached series by @lilystyles

no strings attached masterlist & main masterlist xxx

authors note the finale, welcome and enjoy! i hope you've liked this series as much as i have enjoyed writing it. i plan to do blurbs of these guys! at ur requests!! follow me to see new one-shots or series coming in future xxxx

brief description y/n is the maid of honour and harry is the best man, what happens when they are forced to share a room? do they reconcile their issues or are they too far gone.

warnings! swearing, sexual themes, alcohol abuse, and ANGST. (10.6k words)

inexperienced!reader x fwb!harry

* * * * *

That night felt like a long time ago now. The memory had a hazy glow of golden light filling it in Y/n’s mind it felt so far away from where she was now. It felt unreachable and dreamlike.

And yet funnily enough Y/n still replayed it in her mind most nights when she couldn’t sleep, it kept her up into the wee hours of the morning, and she wished she could understand. She just wished she understood it. But she still couldn’t, no matter how many times she replayed it she always came to the same conclusion; Harry wasn’t hers and he had never been. All those months really were just a bit of fun to him, a secret fling. She was sure most of his flings were secret, but then again maybe he just didn’t want anyone to know about her. When they weren’t talking and he was off being famous she saw countless paparazzi photos of him looking quite scandalous with many different men and women, and mentions of his new flings, and during university, he had a new person every week whom he’d come into her room to hide from while Y/n went out and made them guilt filled pancakes. Sometimes she’d bump into them around campus and they’d ask after Harry and she’d just give a shrug as if to say, what can you do?

Whenever she started to feel sombre about it all, and lonely without him, she reminded herself of the fact that he was so sick to his stomach embarrassed by the idea of people knowing about them, that he ended things with her just like that. With no consideration or gentleness which was so out of his character when it came to his friends. She had never seen him so callous with someone whom he claimed he was close to. Even if he saw her as just his friend, she didn’t ever take him as that kind of guy. Harry was not a careless person, if anything he cared too much. Thought over and over before speaking.

It had been a month nearly two since that weekend of absolute foggy chaos. Everything was different now. But she could still remember that morning he came to see her crystal clear though, and that memory was grey and bitter now. It was early, and Y/n though hungover had woken up with the sun. Unusual for her, but something other than the Tequila had her feeling nauseous and his name was Harry. She felt something gnawing in her tummy, and it was almost like she could sense something bad was coming. She just really hadn’t expected what did come.

Harry told her he would call her but he hadn’t, which worried her because he always called. He showed up with little warning, Y/n had already rolled herself up in her blanket on the couch planning to spend the day with her face in her toilet. But she heard a knocking at her door just as she’d turned the telly on.

She opened it and was met with Harry’s green eyes, the rims were red from a lack of sleep. His eyes were puffy and he looked about as terrible as she felt, she tried to assume it was just his hangover. His hair was wet and so was his jumper, it must’ve been raining, she hadn’t heard it. He’d been up all night stressed out over thinking while staring at the new series of photos of Y/n kissing his cheek and him looking at her with these love-filled eyes. Not to mention there were so many of his obsessive fans commenting and being hateful towards her, her looks, everything. To Harry she was perfect and he despised what they were saying. He could handle what people said about him, but now that it was Y/n he wanted to cry. He never wanted her to know or read any of the comments. He couldn’t bear it.

Y/n hadn’t checked her Instagram for a few days but if she looked she’d see millions of requests to her Instagram. She wasn’t much of a social media user other than the ones she used for contact with her family.

“Oh, hey.” She said softly, voice all scratchy she looked very ill.

He had this look on his face, and Y/n could tell he had bad news. But she didn’t expect him to say what he said.

He made them both a cup of tea each and they sat down on her couch but something was shaky and aloof about him. The early morning news played in the background and Y/n felt her head throbbing hard against her skull as she tried hard to focus on him.

“I think it’s for the best if we just stop this.” He said quickly like ripping off a bandaid.

Y/n felt a lump form in her throat and it hurt to swallow.

She blinked. A beat passed and she felt like she couldn’t speak.

“Stop?” Was all she could say, it sounded weak and croaky.

“I-” He was almost speechless. He saw the glaze of tears spreading over her eyes and a wave of guilt spread underneath his skin like wildfire. But he did not back down and backtrack, he just waited for her response.

He felt guilty, but he knew if they’d gotten even more serious, and he’d told her he loved her and finally told her how he felt that this cloud of trouble that came with being famous would follow her too.

She just nodded at him, biting her lip trying to hold back the tears. They’d risked it, and now they were suffering the consequences. How could they even be friends after something like this? It hadn’t been smart at all! She felt like a fucking idiot. This was her own fault. She should’ve known. Even though Harry is sensitive, even though he is kind, even though he acts like he is hers, she should have known that he did not want to settle down with her. Be with her. He’d had their whole lives to try it on with her, what made her think adding some sex was going to change that?! She felt ridiculous, this was so fucking cliche. She had become that girl. That stupid girl who believed she could change him.

Now she just wished she’d done nothing at all and stayed inexperienced and sad and alone. At least then she didn’t feel this painful weight in her chest like she couldn’t breathe. Like an elephant was sitting on her chest and she had a rock in her throat. She wanted to claw at the skin by her jugular rip it open and dig out the uncomfortable lump.

It hurt terribly to lose him that first time when they’d only been friends. How would she recover from this? It took her months to move on from that. She was a deeply sensitive person, who despite contrary beliefs noticed little things about people and picked up on things others didn’t. She wondered if it was because she had no experience with romantic love and only just these deep-rooted friendships. But it meant losing a friend felt like mourning. She didn’t know if her heart would handle this. She felt embarrassed that she cared so deeply.

But he wasn’t just a boy he was Harry. He was one of her oldest friends. He knew her, he really knew her, better than anyone else. And now she just had to forget him?

Suddenly those nights that were perfect had begun to tarnish with a bitter blackness that she couldn’t stop. She couldn’t talk, she felt like she’d been winded.

Harry said nothing and watched her, waiting.

She stared at the hands in her lap and her eyes looked like they were a second away from spilling a tear. When his hand reached for hers, she acted like his touch had burned and only then did she look at him. He felt guilt crawl under his skin and he felt like vomiting as a sweat crept up his neck.

“Okay. I understand, it was never meant to be more than once anyway. You can go now, I don’t feel good. I don’t want you to catch this cold.” She said with a flat soft tone, fast like she had something better to do, and like this was very unimportant compared to her other to-do’s.

When he looked for the hurt in her eyes he was met with a harsh cold look he hadn’t expected or ever seen in her eyes.

“Okay, I’ll see you.”

His hands itched to stroke her cheek but he refrained and instead got up put his coat on and left without another word. When the door shut and she heard his footsteps get quieter Y/n placed her hand on her heart and begged for her lungs to breathe, as a wetness landed on her cheeks and she fell to the floor trying to ground herself. Where had all the air gone? He hadn’t taken that with him too, had he?

He didn’t see her. She didn’t see him. In fact, they’d actively avoided each other since that day. Their friends knew now they’d been together (they had assumed but now knew for sure), the tabloids knew too, and the entire world knew they’d had a steamy fling. But none of them knew why things had ended, and neither did Y/n really. But she wasn’t going to question Harry, especially because that meant speaking to him. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to, not without crying or making a fool of herself.

She should’ve known that he had always been carefree when it came to sex and he wasn’t particularly tied down to one place or person he was free. A free spirit, which is probably what helped him be such a good lover, he was attentive and enjoyed making the other person feel good, Y/n was sure the men or women he’d slept with could agree he was good. She wondered if they felt like she did like he was falling in love too.

What made her think she could change him? Why did she let herself get tangled in him, now everything she did was embedded in the memories. It had been nearly six months since New Year's.

It was Summer now, the cold had vanished and gone with it so had the person who kept her warm. When she met with Daisy to go to the dress fittings for bridesmaids dresses the last person the two girls expected to run into was Harry of all people. He was in one shop over looking for a gift for James and Daisy. Their wedding was in two weeks. He’d been pondering what to get them, they had the most important things already — love, happiness, and great clothes. What do you buy people who have everything they need? They were rich in things that mattered.

Daisy now knew everything that had happened because Y/n told her when she knocked down her door and found Y/n on the floor hidden in mountains of takeaway containers listening to Taylor Swift. She almost wanted to call Miss Taylor herself, after all, she’d written like two albums about Harry. Y/n thought that was rather understandable. He stayed stuck in her brain like honey to her fingers.

Daisy didn’t know what was wrong with Harry and didn’t understand what went wrong. They were perfect for each other, she’d thought so since primary school. She was trying hard to get them to speak, and resolve this. She hated it when they weren’t talking. It just didn’t feel right. She didn’t like it the first time when he got lost in the fame. It was weird seeing them not attached at the hip.

But still, she certainly hadn’t planned to bump into him with Y/n today, who had only just started to leave her flat a few weeks ago, she knew Y/n wasn’t ready. But they had no choice. Y/n had been the one to see him first, well, she unknowingly bumped into a passerby on the crowded street but when the skin against hers basically burnt she whipped her head at the feeling, a slight knowing tingled in her chest and she was met with the green eyes she saw at night, that tormented her daydreams and nightmares too.

Her eyes widened for a moment and Daisy spoke first which Y/n was pathetically thankful for. She thought she must’ve dreaming and in her worst nightmare. She dug her nails into her palm to see if she was awake.

When she felt a piercing pain she knew she was, and she wished the floor would open and swallow her whole never to be seen again.

“Haz? What are you doing here?” Daisy felt like she was interrupting something but knew Y/n needed her help. She was staring at him like he was a ghost, her skin had paled.

He smiled but it didn’t quite meet his eyes when he saw Y/n looking anywhere but at him. The gum on the floor seemed more interesting to her than her old friend Harry.

“Jus’ shopping.” He replied vaguely, as he gestured to the bags in his hands.

Daisy nodded. “Us too. Y/n needs her maid of honour dress, it’s super beautiful, we are on our way to pick it up.”

He smiled. “Oh, nice.”

He noticed the cup in Y/n’s hands. During the summer she loved Matcha it was her summer drink. She especially loved it from this little place around the corner, it was this hole-in-the-wall type of cafe called Lily’s. It’d been somewhere they’d go and study or get some snacks after a long day. It was a place from their years as roommates. When Y/n was particularly down during the summertime Harry would go and buy it for her and bring it home. It always cheered her up. One time this guy Mike stood her up on a date, and Harry bought her a matcha and walked her to her class. On the way they’d run into him walking with another girl and Harry threw his Iced Americano on him.

“Lily’s and shopping? Your favourite.” He said softly trying to laugh, and see her smile like normal, but when she looked at him, it looked like she was in pain. Then suddenly her face was blank. He didn’t know what she was feeling. She felt far from him and unreachable. He’d tried to call her phone but she’d never called back.

“Lily’s isn’t my favourite anymore. They changed their recipe.”

No, they hadn’t. She still loved it there, Y/n just wanted to make it obvious that he didn’t get to act like he knew her. Even though he did, he wasn’t allowed to. Not anymore.

Call her dramatic all you want. But being hurt by her oldest friend wasn’t something she could just brush underneath the carpet and pretend wasn’t there. And why did he have to be famous? If she’d finally forgotten about him for a while then she’d see him on telly, on her socials, on a fucking billboard, hear him on the radio. He was impossible to escape. He even invaded her dreams.

“Shame.”

She shrugged. “Guess I’ll just have to find a new place.”

Harry felt like that was targeted, and resisted the urge to clutch his chest.

There was a pause of the two of them staring at each other and then Harry looked at his watch. “I’ve gotta run. I’ll see you.”

Y/n felt a rush. I’ll see you.

She didn’t see him again until the rehearsal dinner a few weeks later during the peak of Summer heat. Daisy had decided to have her wedding in the countryside, it was beautiful. The hotel all the guests were staying in was this adorable Inn called The Butterfly. The venue was a gorgeous winery. It was perfect. Exactly what Daisy had wanted, cosy, homey, and small. But the winery itself was luxurious and decorated beautifully.

The wedding party was massive though. Full of family and friends. Y/n’s parents were there because they knew Daisy’s and James’ families quite well. Anne and Gemma too. Basically, all of Holmes Chapel was there. It felt like a fucking reunion, Y/n even saw her Kindergarten teacher Miss Prattley. Who happened to be Daisy’s second cousin.

The rehearsal dinner was at this swanky restaurant the winery owned not far from the Inn. It was booked out just for them. It had chandeliers and crisp white tables, crystal glasses for the drinks. Properly fancy, like that restaurant Harry took her to.

Y/n arrived early to the dinner with Penny by taxi. Penny was wearing a clean and elegant-looking suit, it was cream-coloured. Her hair was slicked back and she looked like she was from an eighties music video in the best way possible. She always had a clean, corporate look to her, Y/n said it was because she was a lawyer.

Y/n had gone for a more fitting look at the scenery and weather. She was in a floral sundress that she paired with soft pink heels and gold jewels. She looked beautiful as always. Gentle dewy makeup, and hair styled up. She looked simply adorable and soft.

When the two girls walked up the pebbled driveway they heard a crunch behind them, and there he was. He was in a billowy black button-up and deep brown dress pants. He had some of the buttons undone on his shirt exposing his tattoos, he looked fucking good. Y/n hated him for it. Penny smiled rushing to give him a hug and greeting. Harry had only just arrived today.

Penny rushed ahead of them both at the call of her name from someone (any excuse to get away from that she hated being in the middle).

Harry and Y/n fell into step silently shoes crunching against the gravel, Y/n tried to slip. And though the tension was horrible, she still had a sense of comfort in Harry’s presence. She didn’t feel the need to talk or scream. He could surely tell by her cold and blunt mannerisms how she felt about the whole thing and how she felt about him. How could he not? He’d released a new album and she hadn’t said anything to him or even bothered to listen. Normally no matter how long it had been she always told him her favourite song and congratulated him. He’d received nothing from her that day.

Had she even listened? She had to know all the songs on that album were about her.

Y/n would like to once again say it wasn’t that he ended things with her, if he didn’t like her anymore that’s fine but it was so sudden. It's how he did it, and why? She was only left to conclude his reason was that he was embarrassed and that annoyed her. What was wrong with her? Was she not cool enough? Not famous enough? Not experienced enough? Not Kendell Jenner or a singer? She thought he liked that Y/n was from the past, but maybe he had changed too much and needed something new and shiny.

But seriously what was so wrong with her he had to run for the hills at the idea of anyone knowing he might’ve slightly liked her — or at the very least found her attractive. What was it? That’s what drove her crazy.

Why?

WHY?

What drove her even crazier was that he wanted to go back to being old chums from Uni or home. She wasn’t his old friend anymore, she was just someone he had a lot of memories with now. They couldn’t revert back. Especially if he never tells her the truth. They’d have to be these horrible fake strangers.

“You look nice.” He said breaking the silence. The air was humid and thick outside.

And Y/n snapped her head in his direction as they began to walk inside the foyer, the heat had them both glistening in a light sheen of sweat. At least it was nice and cool inside, she found some relief from it.

His comment was so outrageous to her that she said nothing at all.

“So I’m getting the silent treatment?” She could feel his eyes on her cheek.

“Until I can think of a reason to talk with you, yeah.” She said clenching the purse in her hand and looking ahead at the room where everyone waiting inside.

“What does that mean?”

She turned her face and suddenly they were almost nose to nose, she hadn’t realised he was so close. “The only reason I’m here is for Daisy and James. My being here believe it or not isn’t to see you. Stop treating me like a hurt puppy. You don’t owe me your pathetic guilt. Just stop.”

He opened his mouth and shut it again.

“I’m not an ex-girlfriend but I’m not just Y/n either. Things are different now. Don’t treat it like something it isn’t. I don’t wish to be around you, and I’m here out of respect for our friends. I’m not going to make this nice weekend about us. Whatever the fuck this little thing is,” She said her hand pointing at the both of them.

He grabbed her arm and she didn’t pull away only looking at him defeated. “Why can’t we go back to the way we were before?” He said desperately.

She yanked her hand away and scoffed at that comment. “We made a mistake, and now we have to deal with it. What about that don’t you under—”

“Guys!!” Called James. “You coming?” He was dressed in blue his long brown hair brushed neater than normal.

Y/n turned and a faux smile returned to her face. “Yeah coming!”

Harry had never been on Y/n’s bad side before and he had to say it was much worse than he expected. He followed behind and Y/n held back from stomping her foot and throwing a tantrum when she saw she was seated beside Harry tonight, maid of honour and best man. For fucks sake.

The food was delicious, Y/n’s wine was great too and after a few, she was feeling more relaxed despite the intense presence to her left watching her the whole night. She started to laugh with others at the table, and when Anne came over to chat Y/n was kind and friendly.

Clearly, Anne had no idea they were no longer speaking and still assumed they were together. “You two look so nice tonight.”

Y/n smiled. “Aww, thank you, Anne.”

“That is a nice necklace, Darling.” Said Anne looking at Harry’s neck.

Y/n didn’t look until Harry said “Y/n got it for me, back in Uni.”

She whipped her head to look at his neck. There sat the pedant. She fought the urge to rip it off his neck.

“Aren’t you just darling?” Said Anne with a smile getting up to go speak to someone, interrupting them. Y/n smiled as Anne stroked her cheek and when she left she relaxed back into her pout. Everyone was chatting to others and Y/n thought no one would notice if she slipped away for some fresh air.

She walked outside clutching her purse and taking a seat on the concrete steps taking in a deep breath. She pulled out a secret cigarette one in case of emergencies and lit it. She knew it was silly, but she needed a distraction. The nicotine hit her throat and she shut her eyes. She needed a moment to herself.

And as she looked up at the clear night sky and tried to remember constellations she felt her heart rate slow and her skin unprickle. For a moment she felt relief but when she heard the door swing open and heard footsteps that were too familiar she knew she was going to have very little relief at all this weekend, her luck lately was apparently not there at all.

She continued smoking.

“Can we talk? I don’t feel we finished our conversation earlier.”

Y/n shut her eyes. “There’s nothing to say, H.”

The nickname slipped from her mouth with little thought. She sounded so tired of it all, and Harry noticed by the way her shoulder slumped and her voice drawled out in a slower more rumbling sound.

“You seemed to have plenty ta’ say before. C’mon.”

She opened her eyes when she felt him sit down beside her, his thigh touched hers and she tried to ground herself.

“I don’t have anything to say. I said it all.”

“You could explain why you’re ignoring me.”

She huffed out a scoff. “Are you joking?”

He caught her eye, and he finally saw some pain in them. Had the champagne gone to his head? He didn’t know why he was bringing it up. But seeing her again he couldn’t stay away. It was impossible, all the work he had done for months, the willpower he had, not to call her, text her, go around to her flat and get on his knees and beg for her to forgive him. That strength and discipline he’d had was flying right out the window the moment he was near her.

“Harry we messed up.”

He frowned hands rubbing against his knees. “Who says?”

“Me.” She turned to him throwing the finished cigarette on the floor and stomping on it. “I can’t even look at you right now, we ruined it. We should’ve- I should’ve known better than to be this stupid and reckless,”

“What was so reckless about it? We were just having fun and it came to a natural end.”

That one stung. It stung deep. So deep it burned. “I’m not like you! We both knew that. We both knew I’m not that kind of girl. I’m not carefree, I’m not sexy, I’m not casual, I’m not half in half out. You knew I wasn’t that girl, why did you make me believe I was?”

He didn’t know what that meant exactly. He didn’t know how to reply.

“I should’ve fucking known. You left me once and I should’ve known you’d do it again. I never know why. You must just get sick of me. A little warning would be nice but don’t worry this won’t happen again. You won’t have to hear from me again.”

“Y/n that’s not true and you know it.” He tried to argue but she was off on a tangent, and he wanted to hear what she said. He wanted to know how she felt. See if he could fix it.

“I’ll see you at these kinds of things and be polite, I’ll be nice to your mum, I’ll smile when you do well with another tour or album, but I won’t be with you. I won’t be something you can come back to when you’re bored of the models and singers and parties. I’ll be a real old friend, who isn’t in touch with you for a real reason. Maybe we will see each other at a Christmas party again, and I’ll smile and wave and we’ll both leave with our boring dates and that will be that, Harry.”

“Y/n, please do-”

“Oh, save it, Harry! you made a fool out of me! I feel fucking pathetic!” She was regretting her last wine, it made her lips loose and her words honest. She started to walk along the front terrace away from him.

He followed grabbing her arm. “This isn’t the Y/n I know. This isn’t my Y/n.”

Y/n wanted to punch him, but the touch of his hand felt nice and familiar.

She couldn’t believe he’d been the first boy she had fallen for.

She couldn’t pinpoint a moment of when exactly she had, but upon reflection maybe it was on the monkey bars during primary school when Y/n lost her first tooth.

She’d fallen down off them after trying to skip to the third bar. Harry quickly jumped down and brushed the tanbark from her face and told her it was okay. He dug around looking for her tooth as she wailed about how she lost it and hugged her when she cried at her bloody hands.

That night when she wrote to the tooth fairy she said, ‘My friend Harry found it for me so please be extra nice to him when he loses his first tooth he deserves even more money than I do.’ Her Mum still had the letter hidden in a drawer.

Or maybe it was during high school when she got her first period. It had been in the middle of P.E. and she’d leaked right through her skirt and it was obvious what had happened. Harry, who knew from his older sister Gemma, had been the one to go into the girl's bathroom after seeing her crying and talked to her as she refused to come out. He gave her his shorts and went to the school sick bay to find her some pads.

Or maybe it was when she found Harry in her bed one night with red eyes cuddling her teddy bear, it was a weekend when her parents had left her alone, and Harry was stoned out of his mind speaking nonsense while reaching for her hand. He’d explained he needed a familiar face and that he found comfort in her room. She let him sleep there until the next morning.

Or maybe it was even when he flew her to Paris to see his show back in his One Direction days and they’d snuck champagne in a limo and he kissed her neck in a way that had her feeling so dizzy that she might fall.

Maybe her feelings had bloomed during the nights when he would ride to her house before the others, on his electric green-coloured bike, convincing her to sneak out with the rest of them and he’d bribe her with her favourite lollies and they’d all go sit on the roof of the school.

It could’ve been the night he scooped her into his arms at their school ball and danced with her until her feet gave out when her date had abandoned her.

She simply could not pinpoint when this had happened, but she thinks all along that she’d loved him, and been in love with him since that first day in mothers group when they were babies.

She just never knew it had been this deeply until he left, again. It hurt everywhere. When she looked at this person in front of her it made no sense how he could be the boy who found her tooth, the boy who danced with her, the boy who kissed her, the boy who held her hand. How was this the same person? This man in front of her was not the person she’d thought.

“Well, the Harry I know would not have done this to me. I don’t understand you.”

“I just trying to pro-“

“Guys! Toast time!” Said Michael. Harry let go of her arm.

Once again they were interrupted and Y/n wasn’t going to wait for another chance to escape. They went inside and Y/n flattened her hair which she was sure had fluffed up in the wind. Harry stayed close and began to whisper something which Y/n shushed and they walked into the room.

“Y/n! Speech!” Called Penny.

Y/n blushed under the attention. Grabbing her champagne, everyone tapped their glasses with their dessert spoon and soon all eyes were on her. She took a sip and began to think of what to say that wasn’t already in her Maid of Honour speech tomorrow.

“It has been an honour to know Daisy and James since preschool, it means I know all the juicy stuff! Like when he asked her to the school dance with an old boombox from his dad’s shed because Daisy explained she loved that film with John Cusack. In fact, it had actually been my idea, I was there holding him on my shoulders because he wanted to seem taller.”

Everyone laughed and Y/n locked her eyes on the pair of them sitting together hand in hand.

“But in all seriousness, I have never met two people more perfect for each other. Daisy and James are like butter and bread. They make sense, they are solid, and they are unmovable. To you, it might be Sid and Nancy or Bonnie and Clyde or even Romeo and Juliet, but to me, it’s James and Daisy. They are love, they are what give me hope, and they are two of my very best friends. Congratulations, I am so thankful to be here to celebrate your love for each other. I love you both. Have a good night everyone!”

The night was smoother sailing from then on. It drew to around midnight, Daisy and James had both left earlier to go off and get a good night's sleep and Y/n was helping organise a bit of a cleanup of presents and other decorations she knew Daisy might want as mementos.

She had thought everyone had left so when she heard the padding of shoes she was surprised and startled all at once.

“Hi.” Harry slurred. “I know yeh’ don’t want to talk to me, but m’phone’s flat. Can I jus’ use yours ta’ call a taxi?”

Y/n had hired someone from the hotel to drive her back in twenty minutes and had already rung them up earlier to confirm it. “You can ride with me. The car will be here soon. Have some water.”

Even though she was boiling mad with him it didn’t matter, she would always help him. He listened curling up on the floor childishly and sipping some water. Y/n’s movements were slow and he could tell she was tired.

They’d both made the journey today and had yet to see their rooms. Penny booked the rooms and organised everyone's roommates for the group, neither knew who they were with and hadn’t been to the Inn yet. When the car arrived Y/n realised how drunk Harry was and when he nearly slipped on the concrete steps she reached for him and instinctively he wrapped his arms around her shoulders as she helped him to the car.

She put him in first helping him flop into the spacey backseat and then joined him walking around the other side. As she opened the door his dark brown waves messily parted onto her seat, he was strewn out like a sunbaking lizard. She tried to make him sit up but he whined. His head shifted until it was on her thigh and she’d gotten in all the way. He stopped whining after that and let his head rest there on the silky material of her dress.

“M’ sorry.” He whispered.

Y/n pretended she didn’t hear him, but let him rest his head. Drunk Harry was stubborn. They arrived quickly so she was thankful for it being close by she was losing her mind, as she helped him inside and walked to the front desk she asked who was under each room. Antsy to get him dropped off and finally have a chance for a moment to herself.

“Last names please?” Asked the lady at the front desk, she looked young, like a teenager, with very little interest in her job. She had a book flipped open on the desk that she had been reading when they came in.

“Styles and L/n.”

She handed them a key. “17.”

Y/n frowned. “Sorry?”

“You two are in the suite upstairs, 17.”

She was going to kill Penny. She huffed a sigh, thanking the girl before she grabbed a firmer hold of Harry’s waist. Her fingers accidentally brushed the bare skin of his hip and the only feeling she felt was regret. Why did they ruin everything? Even if the sex was great, she’d wished she’d never done it. It physically hurt her to be near him. She felt a bruising weight in her chest that ached deeply and burned her throat.

As she helped Harry up the steps she was thankful both of their bags were already in the rooms having been dropped off earlier. She opened the door with the key while balancing Harry against her, and as she slipped inside she thought it looked nice for the next two days and definitely worth the fee they were asking. The room had a balcony that overlooked the little river and garden outside, a nice luxurious ensuite. But overall it looked cosy, with a fireplace which would’ve been nice in winter, no air-con though, and…one bed.

Well fuck, she’d have to call housekeeping tomorrow and ask for them to put two beds in.

Harry was too drunk to notice right away until Y/n placed him on the bed and helped him get his shoes off.

“Didn’t know.” He tried to explain big hands resting on thighs, and despite it all, she remembered them on her body.

Y/n sighed and turned when he began to strip himself of his clothes. She grabbed one of the pillows off the bed and moved over to the small couch in front of the TV, she doubted she would be able to sleep. It was stinking hot, and she hadn’t slept much lately. Not to mention she would hardly be able to with him right there.

“Where are y’goin’?” He asked as she began to make a bed on the tiny couch.

Y/n didn’t look at him as she did so. “Couch.”

“Y/n we can share a bed. Don’t be silly.”

Y/n was tired and tipsy and her back hurt from the long train journey here. “Fine.”

It wasn’t like they hadn’t before and she would deal with all of this tomorrow. Anyway, would she rather not sleep on a couch or a comfy-looking bed? She knew her answer.

Harry had chosen to sleep naked, it was very warm in the room, and he curled up on the left side facing the bathroom. Y/n grabbed some small silky pyjamas from her suitcase. It was a thin singlet and shorts that would help her feel as naked as possible in this heat. She walked to the bathroom past Harry and began to wash her face with some cool water and combed her hair smoothing out any tangles, as she opened the door she decided she would plait it back so it didn’t stick to her skin.

Harry’s eyes were shut but she couldn’t tell if he was actually asleep or not. His breathing had slowed to a normal tempo and as she slid into the other side beside him the rumble of his voice startled her.

“Cute pjs.”

She let out a huffed sigh and slapped her arms against the cool duvet. “Shut up.”

Y/n willed herself to sleep, counting until she got bored, and tried to do some deep breathing, but nothing was working the heat was too much. She felt like she’d been tossing and turning for centuries. Eventually, she kicked the duvet off and sat up, checking the alarm clock beside the bed. It was nearly three. Harry was fast asleep. She got up and walked onto the balcony, sitting down in one of the chairs they had out there as she let the evening breeze hit her. Though it was hot it was cooler outside. She supposed it didn’t help that Harry was like a fucking heater. He ran so hot and even without his arms wrapped around her he still radiated heat like the sun.

She knuckled her eyes pulling her knees up to her chest, resting her chin as she yawned; sleep felt close and far all at once. The breeze made her shut her eyes and she enjoyed the peaceful noise of frogs in the river, and crickets chirping, and let her thoughts melt away. When she opened her eyes she didn’t know if time had passed or not, and did not remember falling asleep.

She wondered what had woken her up, it wasn’t the sun, though the sun did not seem far from her. The sky was at that stage where it was a lighter blue than night, it was just a few minutes before the sun was going to bleed colours into the sky.

It wasn’t an alarm, it wasn’t day yet, and the wind was still gentle and cooling.

“Wha’ are y’doin’ out here?” When her eyes finally focussed she realised it was Harry who had woken her up. His hand was pressed to her shoulder, and his face looked puffy and confused.

Y/n was too half asleep to get the words out of her mouth.

“Just come inside.” He grabbed at her wrist pulling her up into his chest. He was still a bit drunk but his skin had begun to pale in sobriety and a deep sadness filled his face that Y/n wondered if was related to her, she hoped he hurt a little bit like she did.

His hand hovered over her waist and pushed her to the bed.

When they began to settle into bed, Y/n felt her limbs sinking into the soft mattress. Harry had turned the fan on higher and they both lay on their backs staring at the white ceiling. Her eyes were shutting on her.

“Can I hold you?” He whispered and she felt like it could’ve been her imagination.

Until he cut himself off he shifted back to look at the roof. “Sorry.”

Y/n didn’t know if it was because she didn’t get closure, because she missed him, or because she was sad, or simply because she slept better with him there, or even because she’d had a few too many but she rolled over and pressed her back into his chest.

“One last time.” She said before shutting her eyes. His arms wrapped around her tightly like he was worried she’d run away like earlier. His fingers danced patterns along her skin and Y/n fell asleep quickly, Harry did too.

The next morning Harry’s warmth had disappeared and the room was empty. There was no water running he had disappeared and somehow managed to make the bed with her still in it.

Y/n didn’t know whether to be grateful or sad that he had left. She rolled over to the bedside table and saw the time was a few minutes to nine. She sat up scratching her hair and stood up walking to the bathroom she washed her face, put on some moisturiser and sunscreen and slipped into a pair of comfy loose pants and a singlet. She slid into the first pair of shoes she saw and walked off to hunt for some food, mainly just a coffee and something for her throbbing head. She needed an aspirin, now.

The Inn was so quaint it felt like she was in a weird family of hundreds of strangers, it felt like a home, not a hotel. She could smell bacon and followed the scent like a dog in a cartoon. She got herself a plate and a coffee and pinched a muffin too and decided she’d go sit outside. The sun always helped her hangovers.

She opened the door and stepped out onto the porch that wrapped around the whole house full of comfy chairs, rocking ones, swinging ones, padded ones, and benches. She walked down to the edge saw a little padded seat and sat herself down. She enjoyed breakfast, slowly biting and digesting, the wedding was tonight. Starting in the late afternoon. Y/n had a while to prepare herself. She needed to get a lot of things done considering she was the maid of honour.

She needed to make sure both her dress and Daisy’s were ready before tonight. Daisy’s dress was this vintage seventies flowing gown like something Stevie Nicks would wear, they found it in this dead lady's things that were being auctioned off. Y/n originally went because she always found good furniture at those kind of things and was in need of a new coffee table. Daisy just happened to have a free Sunday morning, and by luck they'd found the wedding dress. This lady was cool, with great taste in clothes and coffee tables. Y/n found a panther with a glass table top for her living room. She loved her new edition, it was as eccentric as she'd wanted.

Y/n’s dress was this paled yellow dress, seventies style too. All soft and layered. A floral wrap and some baby pink heels. She was going to do her hair in big rollers and put on some blue eye shadow. She’d found the dress in a vintage shop in Soho and just had to get it. It had this gorgeous white lace trimming and it was the perfect fit for her. How could she pass it up?

When she was up to the final dregs of her coffee she felt someone sit down beside her.

“Sorry about last night.” That was all he said softly looking down at his feet.

She looked up from her legs. “Yeah, champagne.” She said, shrugging. As if to say 'What can you do?'.

He was in a running getup. He looked sombre at her, hands resting on his thighs hoping they could talk. But Y/n didn't seem interested in talking to him. He wished things could be different. He wanted to say that to her, explain. But without any alcohol or courage, he couldn't find the words.

“Gotta’ run.” She said before he could say anything else and all he could do was watch her retreat away. He let out a big sigh and stood up heading off to find James.

Later that afternoon Y/n saw Harry again. This time he was in a blue suit and they were walking down the aisle together. Their arms were interlocked and Y/n was holding a bouquet of lavender and baby's breath, they both said nothing just walked plastering smiles on their faces for everyone seated watching. Having him close to her again was intoxicating, he smelt all woodsy, and of fresh mint, tobacco, and burnt vanilla. He smelt like Harry, and she'd missed him. She tried not to pay attention to him and just be civil. They moved to their separate sides at the alter faced each other, eyes meeting for a moment.

Y/n honestly looked gorgeous. Like a painting that belonged in a museum.

James looked great too. He was in a white button-down and black flared slacks. His long hair was down in waves and his moustache was neater than usual, he looked excited. His energy rubbed off on everyone else and everyone was getting antsy to celebrate.

Y/n smiled across at James excitedly. Harry was patting his shoulder and the pair of them were giggling about something and it reminded Y/n of assembly during school. Those two always got them all in trouble for chatting during school, devils. When the piano began everyone silenced, it was a cover of 'Dreams' by Fleetwood Mac on the piano. Daisy's Uncle Jay was very talented on the piano and was playing it happily.

The venue was perfect all beautiful flowers and candles lit everywhere, and Daisy’s looked so so so beautiful. She looked so breathtaking that Y/n felt her eyes well up as she watched her best friend walk down the aisle. Daisy’s father Joe was walking alongside her. She was so happy for them.

As the ceremony began no one could keep their eyes off Daisy’s radiance and her dazzling smile.

James' voice was soft and broke as he cried happily. “I have loved you since before I could understand the concept. Thank you for being beautiful, funny, and just my gorgeous girl. I can’t wait to be with you for the rest of my life Daisy, and grow old with you. I am so lucky you want to be my wife."

Harry found his eyes wandering over to Y/n as James' words echoed through the hall. This whole celebration of love was making him awfully upset that he wasn’t with the person he loved today. He wasn’t able to hold her, kiss her, make love to her, make her laugh, make her mad, he wasn’t able to be by her side and pester her with his tickles and teasing. He’d missed Y/n so much, he’d tried getting in touch but knew it would all be a waste she didn't want to talk to him.

He’d written a whole album about her for Christ's sake, he pined after and missed her more than he thought possible. Of course, he loved her there was no question about it. Selfishly he wanted her back, even if it meant they wouldn’t have privacy with the public. He’d loved her even last night when she’d been so rude and short with him. He wanted to scream it out. I LOVE YOU.

But when their eyes met and she looked at him like he was glass, right through him, he felt invisible and he found himself frowning and trying to focus back on the ceremony. She would never forgive him, would she?

The dinner and reception were hands down the best part of the evening. They’d popped champagne as the sun set and all the group began dancing together joyfully, enjoying mountains upon mountains of delicious food. It was like a Christmas dinner table fit for kings. Chickens, turkeys, fish, salads, lots of crispy potatoes, mashed ones, sweet treats, breads, everything your heart could desire.

Daisy and James were so happy, giggling together and kissing sloppily as they cut the massive chocolate-layered cake. They stayed together the whole night, holding each other close and chatting away to everyone invited.

Everyone was dancing and singing together on the dance floor. Y/n was spinning around laughing with Penny and Finn, and her Mum too. She was happy, it was the perfect celebration. Harry kept bumping into old friends, family, and everyone it felt like a reunion and being back to when he was a young teenager at his mum's New Year's parties. He danced too and had quite a few tequilas.

The night was completely wonderful. Full of fun and such a cosy wedding.

It reminded him an awful lot of the first wedding he ever went to. His Mum's.

Anne and Robin had announced their engagement a few months prior. It was a beautiful day then too, the second of June, he was nineteen at the time and Y/n was his date to the wedding. They’d come home from Uni for Summer break for a few weeks together, which they would have whether they had the wedding or not. The road trip was to get home but it didn't bother them at all, they just sang together taking turns driving and playing ‘I Spy’. Y/n had been invited on her own by invitation in the mail from Anne, but Harry said they should go together Y/n thought it made sense too.

“Don’t see why you didn’t ask Vanessa.” She said changing in the backseat while Harry covered his eyes with his hands for her privacy and blocked the window from over the car's back facing her. They were on the side of the road changing before the wedding. They’d driven home the morning of and needed to get ready there. They still had a bit of drive before they got there, but Y/n needed to do her hair and makeup in the car.

“Who?” He said.

Y/n rolled her eyes. “Don’t tell me you don’t know your own girlfriend's name, H.”

He laughed, “Oh yeah, right. That Vanessa.”

Y/n tugged her dress up over her bra and stepped out of the car with the zip undone. “Can you do me up?”

He uncovered his eyes and his hands grazed her bare back, the dress showed a peak of her lacey pink undies. He swallowed thickly and zipped it up. “It's pretty, Love.”

She spun around and laughed at herself. It was very pink, but she thought this was the perfect time to wear it.

“It’s not too pink?" She asked.

Her dress was this bright fuchsia colour with no straps, it was very 80s. Puffy bottom and it was short too.

He shook his head. “No, no such thing. Y’look beautiful.”

She kissed his cheek in thanks.

They got in the car and Y/n began to roll her hair up into some rollers and do her makeup. If you didn’t know them you’ve assumed they’d been dating for years with how in sync they were, and how comfortable they were around each other.

On the drive there Harry was staring off into the distance of the road. He looked gorgeous today, hair all unruly and dimples on his cheek.

“So why didn’t you invite her? Your girlfriend already hates me. She won’t be happy now.” She said applying a nude lip in the rearview.

“I didn’t want to be with her. I wanted to be with you.” He said looking over like it was the most casual thing to say.

Y/n’s heart swelled and she just looked at him. When they arrived Anne was waiting for them inside the church. Harry grabbed Y/n’s hand to guide her and they walked down the entrance their shoes clacking on the tiles. They found Anne with other members of Harry’s family and she rushed over looking picture-perfect. Kissing both of them on their cheeks in greeting, she'd missed them dearly.

“You two look gorgeous! So glad you came together. Y/n, Love, your Mum’s inside already she’s antsy to see you both. The ceremony doesn’t start for a few more minutes.”

“Alright, see you out there.” Said Y/n giving her one last hug and Harry did the same whispering something before grabbing her hand once more because it felt natural as they walked into the venue.

Y/n’s Mum spotted them and instantly waved them over.

“Baby! Harry!” She called rushing over, she was in a nice floral dress that was blue and looked very dressed up.

She grabbed them both. “Oh my goodness, the pair of you look just stunning! Harry, when are you going to steal Y/n up before someone else does?”

Harry just laughed at Y/n's Mum in response knowing how much she tried to play Cupid over the years, Y/n rolled her eyes at her and Y/n’s mother stroked her cheek. “My gorgeous girl.”

After the ceremony the two of them had a few drinks and danced, being few of the only others their age who were actually willing to dance. Harry’s hands were on her waist twirling her about and she fell into his arms giggling.

She hugged him close before they were both pulled away by relatives. Harry had to go speak with some of his cousins from out of town and Y/n was called over by James' older brother Jimmy about some story she needed to tell someone.

When Harry finally finished talking to his family he searched the crowd for Y/n but her hot pink dress was nowhere to be spotted. He frowned stepping away from the room.

He went for a wander outside walking through the hallway and stepping outside into the fresh summer air. He spotted her sitting over by the steps that led down to a duck pond.

The gravel crunched underneath his Chelsea boots and she looked over smiling. “Hi, Harry.”

“Sneak away did ya’?”

She nodded. “You know me.”

She had a habit of disappearing at parties. He sat down beside her, their thighs pressing together as he nudged her. She nudged him back.

“I love you, Babe, you know that?” He said, face crinkled in a smile that was specific just to when he was with her.

She looked over at him, chest aching. “I love you too.” She said softly resting her head on his shoulder he wrapped his arm around her shoulders pulling her close.

“Do you think we will be friends forever?” He asked out of the blue.

No doubt in her voice, she replied instantly. “You and me, mate, we’re forever.”

The memory made his chest ache and he shut his eyes placing a hand on his heart hoping the sensation would stop soon. But when her laugh echoed from behind him, he knew he was fucked, totally and completely fucked.

As the evening grew later and a blanket of stars and black had swallowed the sky Harry found himself outside walking to a bench to hide away and have a moment to himself, he needed a breather. He’d had a few drinks that had made his knees wobbly as he walked, which is why he felt his brows furrow as he squinted staring ahead. What was that? Was his drunken eyes playing tricks on him? There was a lump that looked like a person lying on the grass.

“‘Ello?” He called out.

The lump rolled over and as he stepped closer he realised it was the familiar face of Y/n. His Y/n.

“Oh, Y/n.”

She made a grumble of a noise.

“Wha’ yeh’ doin’ down there?”

“Hiding.” She said.

He looked down at her. “From?”

“You.” She replied.

He sighed heavily. “How many more times am I gonna have ta’ say sorry before you forgive me?”

She sat up. “You give me fucking whiplash, Harry.”

“What? How?”

“First you want me, you're crazy about me. Even if it was just sex, can’t keep your hands off.” She started and Harry could tell she was drunk too, her lips were loose and she was saying anything she thought.

“I’ve always wanted you.” He said.

She sat up on her knees. “See! You say shit like this, but then you just fucking left.”

He bit his lip looking down at his shoes. “I didn’t want to.”

She stood up. “What are talking about? You're a complete and utter mindfuck. Do you just like seeing me hurt, H?” Her hand fell to her chest like his had earlier. Did it hurt her physically too? To be apart?

He felt his eyes prick with tears and his chest burn with sadness. “‘Course I fucking don’t! I did it to protect you, Y/n.”

“Protect me?! From what, you?!” She raised her voice, hands going into her hair frustratedly pushing her hair back from her face. The air was so hot, crickets chirped in the grass, and she felt mosquitos biting her skin.

“Don’t you see? Y/n, I’m not right for you. I won’t be able to protect you from them! I can’t do it to you.”

“Them? Who? Do what?” She said feeling her heartbeat speed up at the sight of his eyes watering. Did he actually feel sad about this? She was so fucking confused.

“Be with you…” She felt crushed by his words. “..the world…I can’t stop the hate. Paparazzi or tabloids. I won’t be able to provide you with a normal easy relationship, Y/n. I can’t put you through it. You deserve better. We won’t have any privacy. Surely you’ve seen everything people are saying.”

She sighed, “I don’t care about what people have to say about us, Harry! What do you? You clearly don’t want me, just say it. If you really did, you wouldn’t care what anyone else says. I don’t.”

“How could you even say that? Of course, I do!”

“That’s news to me.” She scoffed. The moonlight lit her face, and though she was acting strong he knew she was very sad.

“I thought you knew.” He said his voice breaking, eyes not once leaving her face.

“Knew what?” She looked at him.

“I love you.” There it was. Out in the air. For her ears to hear. He'd said it. Not in a casual friend way, not when he was drunk and all lovey-dovey. He'd said it properly.

She stayed silent breathing deeply, staring right at him.

A beat passed.

“Don’t do that…” She said tears slipping.

“Y/n, I thought you knew! I thought you knew from the minute I laid eyes on you. I thought you knew!” His hands flew out as he spoke with this urgency in his tone.

How could she not know? He’d only ever had eyes for her. He didn’t care about any other person. He’d have dropped any of them for her no question asked. He could’ve been at his own wedding years from now and left at her call sprinting to wherever she was. He thinks no matter how many years pass he will always feel that way for her. No matter how much she hates him, no matter what. She’s the one with his heart in her hands.

“If I’d have known…” She didn’t finish her sentence trying to process what he was saying.

He stepped forward hands landing on her arms bending close to her face so they were eye to eye. She watched him closely as he desperately spoke.

“I’ve loved you ever since I’ve known you, I can’t help it, everyone knows. I always thought you did too.”

His hand fell onto her cheek.

“Harry..” She began to cry. He wiped away her tears with his thumb.

“I never wanted you to be hurt. I never wanted any harm to come your way. And I’m so far from perfect, but I fucking love you. More than the entire universe around us. I’d give it all up for you. I would’ve when I was nine and I will when I’m 80. I’ll always love you. And I'm sorry I can't be perfect for you, but it won't change how much I love you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She whispered looking up at him. His arms had wrapped around her back pulling her flush against him.

“Because I’m a daft fucking prick.”

And suddenly kissed him. Her lips landed on his hard pulling him down to her by his tie. She pulled away for a second to whisper against his lips.

“Such a dickhead.” She uttered softly, the rough words sounded endearing, melting from her lips like honey.

“But your dickhead, hopefully.” He replied.

She just kissed him very hard in response and he scooped her up into his arms, her legs wrapped around him and his wobbly knees buckled, the alcohol providing no help whatsoever, landing them both on the grassy field. Harry's back lying on the grass and Y/n sitting on his lap.

She giggled. “I love you too by the way.”

“Phew.” He said and she looked down at him rolling her eyes at him. He was looking up at her all besotten.

“Those eyes.”

“Only get like that for you.”

Then they kissed some more and probably would’ve until sunrise if not for the shout of their names to come inside. They ran through the field hand in hand, stumbling and laughing like idiots in love. Because that’s what they were.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader smut #harry styles angst #harry styles x y/n #nostringsattachedseriesbylilystyles

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struttingstag · 1 month

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Week 3 Recap

The Strutting Slut Fest is a prompt-based fest run by The Strutting Stag pairing James Potter with at least two characters.

pulling pigtails (4888 words, rated T) by @gracelesslady23 Sirius Black/James Potter/Severus Snape

Severus has been on the receiving end of pranks from bitter rivals, Black and Potter, for close to seven years and believes himself to be well and truly sick of it. But after an eye-opening conversation with Lily (which includes the mention of a very famous muggle adage) Severus finds his perspective shifting. Can it be that Potter and Black are so emotionally repressed that they are using pranking as a form of flirting? And is Severus so lacking in good taste that he finds himself actually enjoying their attention? aka. a silly little starbucksprince rom com where none of them know how to properly communicate their feelings, but it all works out in the end.

Lips Like Morphine (9708 words, rated E) by @bluedahlia912 Regulus Black/James Potter

He wanted to get closer, needed more, more. James was still just barely hovering over Regulus, one leg positioned between both of his own. Regulus began grinding his ever-hardening cock against the muscular thigh, the frottage doing pleasant things that had him moaning, making sounds he didn’t realize he was capable of making. “Careful love,” James purred, and the sound of his voice nearly sent Regulus over the edge. “Not yet.” OR Regulus Black goes to Potter Castle to repair his relationship with his brother. Little does he know that he has strayed willingly into the midst of vampires; AKA the vampire smut I’ve always wanted to write.

the alchemy (4119 words, rated T) by @ghst-boys Regulus Black/James Potter, Narcissa Black/James Potter, Past Lily Evans/James Potter, Minor Lily Evans/Pandora Lovegood

James Potter is one of the biggest pop stars in the world, and he has what appears to be the perfect relationship with Lily Evans. But what if things are not all they appear to be?

Scandal does funny things to pride (But brings lovers closer) (3801 words, rated E) by @dyke--vader James Potter/Ron Weasley, James Potter/Lily Potter

James knew what he should do. He should accompany Ron to the clinic. He should pay any necessary costs, be there for him as he recovers. They should end things. It was clear that they didn’t know how to stop themselves, how they’d taken every precaution necessary at the start - yet let their relationship wear down the safeguards until they had toed the line too closely. But when James looked at Ron, he couldn’t bring himself to say it.

What Are Friends For (ongoing, 9k+ words, rated E) by @samynnad102687 Regulus Black/James Potter, Barty Crouch Jr./James Potter/Evan Rosier, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin/James Potter, Lily Evans/Pandora Lovegood/James Potter, Regulus Black/Barty Crouch Jr./James Potter/Evan Rosier

James has ADHD and his mind is a mess. The only way to make it go quiet is by being fucked dumb. His friends decide to help. Prompt for Strutting Slut Fest 2024 A 5 + 1 Smut fic: Five times the members of the polycule fucked James stupid and one time James wanted them to but they all took care of him instead.

Venom Dripping In Your Mouth (9443 words, rated E) by @arviyya Regulus Black/James Potter, Barty Crouch Jr./Evan Rosier, Regulus Black/Barty Crouch Jr./James Potter/Evan Rosier

If you were to ask Regulus how he ended up here, he would tell you with conviction that he has no fucking idea. However, that would be a lie. And, now he’s the one with a vampire’s hand digging into his back, his cold lips pressed against Regulus’ ear, voice a growl so low that it’s a mere breath, enough to send shivers to every inch of his body, “For someone who was clearly searching for this, you seem more than a little terrified, sweetheart." Or: Regulus is a bio-chem undergrad fulfilling a humanities credit when he realizes there may be something strange about his professors, James and Evan. He finds more than he bargains for when he decides to test his theory with his best friend Barty in tow, leading to Regulus and Barty becoming human sippy cups.

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broskiblurbs · 1 year

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Our Envious Forthcomings (A Peter Parker FanFiction)

Word Count: 4,370

Summary: You grew up in your father's spotlight, while Peter grew up in poverty. You had loads of friends, while Peter was a nobody. Seems as if things were handed to you, while he had to beg for them. These differences made Peter bitter towards you, but maybe you aren't so different after all.

Disclaimer: Mild cussing. In this universe, the Blip never happened.

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There wasn't many things Peter Parker disliked, only three things that he could come up with. Overall, he is an easy-going person, and someone who loves the simplicity of life. He is a nerd who loves Star Wars and LEGOs. He is a nobody in the background with only two friends: Ned and Michelle Jones. He is a clamming boy who didn’t have much luck when it came to dating and girls. On top of all of that, he is a friendly-neighborhood hero who helps old Dominican women cross the street. He is a spider that stopped alien-tech trades and saved Stark Industries. He is an Avenger that helped save the universe from Thanos. He is Spider-Man, a guy who is constantly overlooked, yet praised at the same time. Even though Peter was not as popular as his alter-ego, he was perfectly happy with his life.

One thing Peter didn’t like was parties. They were always way too loud and overcrowded. It messed with his heightened senses, which ensured a pounding headache once he got home. The only reason he is even at this party is because Ned dragged him and MJ here after they got invited by Betty Brant, who was one of the most popular girls in school. How a nobody like Ned Leeds got a pretty girl like Betty Brant was beyond Peter’s mind, but he was happy for his love-sick friend. As soon as the trio walked through the giant doors of the party, Ned abandoned them to find his girl, leaving Peter and MJ to fend for themselves, which eventually leads to Flash bumping into Peter.

Another thing Peter disliked was Eugene “Flash” Thompson. He hated how he walked around like the world owed him something. He hated how he bullied others to make himself feel better. Peter was one of Flash’s relentless victims. He was the reason why he got the nickname “Penis Parker” in their sophomore year of high school. He has thought about using Spider-Man to finally shut-up, but he dismissed the idea for he had promised to never use his alter-ego in such a way. Besides, he didn’t want to stoop to Flash’s level, no matter how tempting it was. It was enough of a victory to know Peter could punch him in the face and stop it all. It’s all about the small victories, right?

“Watch where you are going, Penis Parker,” the ignorant bully called out while spilling his drink, which was probably spiked, all over Peter’s favorite blue sweater. The boy was about to shoot a spiteful response to Flash until you interrupted.

“Stop, Flash. It isn’t worth it.” You give Peter a pitiful smile and drag your friend along.

The third and final thing he disliked was you. You were always at Flash’s side, watching him bully others. You were known to the school as Flash’s hot and “chill” friend, though Peter wouldn’t use those words to describe you. However, that was not the worst thing. He felt that life has handed you everything just because your dad was rich and famous. He envied how he had to work for his good grades, money, and the small amount of friends he did have, while you shared DNA with a man and got filthy rich, got to ease through school, and friends practically flocked to you. You had it easy, and you took it for granted. He watched you dance so freely on the dance floor as if no one was watching, but if he did it, he would be made fun of, right? The world had its favorites and you were one of them, and he hated you for it. Nothing could change how he felt.

Peter was having a good day, a great one even. He had almost made it through his first week of senior year, which meant he was that much closer to graduating. They had pizza for lunch and it didn’t taste like garbage for once. Aunt May was able to get the red stain out of his favorite blue sweater that Flash had so nicely placed on it. Some girl complimented his Vans, and later on tonight, he was going to Ned’s to try to rebuild the LEGO Death Star for the third time. So yeah, Peter having a great day. He was practically skipping to Ned’s locker to go to American History.

“I’m pretty sure today she’s going to assign us partners for that stupid project today,” Ned announced as he slammed the locker shut and the boys made their way to the class.

“Ugh, don’t remind me. Isn’t semester long?” Peter asked.

“I think so. All I know is that I hope I get paired with you or Betty.” Peter sends a glare at his friend. “No, you! Bros before hoes. Guy in the chair,” Ned saved. Peter laughed as they headed into the classroom. The friends took their seats in the corner of the room as the teacher began her lesson about the Founding Fathers.

Peter was forcing his eyes to stay open. Sure, he was one of the smartest in his grade, but history absolutely bored him. The fact the lesson was on the Founding Fathers didn’t make things any better. He didn’t understand why we praised men who were just a bunch of hypocrites. The teacher never kept Peter’s attention during the lecture, not until she announced she will start pairing students up for the project. The project was super broad, which made him happy. He could do whatever he wanted as long as it showed how it improved the U.S. as a whole. Ideas were rushing to his head. Cars? The improvement of technology? The Avengers even? The possibilities were endless.

“Mr. Leeds and Mr. Thompson,” she paired. Peter looked over Ned, who looked horrified. Flash looked disgusted. Since he was obviously not going to be paired with his best friend, he was scared to hear who his partner was going to be. The teacher flew through some more names.

“Mr. Parker.” Peter’s eyes widen at the recognition of his own name. His fingers were trembling, anticipating hearing the name he would be spending the rest of the semester with. “You’ll be with Miss. Y/L/N”

Of fucking course.

Peter buries his face into his hands. Out of everyone he could paired with, he had to be paired with you. He could hear murmurs of his peers saying stuff like, “Lucky,” “Not fair,” “That dork with her?” It’s not like he wanted to be paired with your ungrateful ass. He snuck a look your way. You looked uncomfortable? Of course you wouldn’t want to be paired with him. In your eyes, he’s probably just a slimy little nerd who should kneel before you. He vowed at that moment to never give you that satisfaction. He was probably going to have to do the majority of the project anyway. A selfish brat like yourself will think you’re above some silly school assignment. When the bell rang, Peter bolted out of the classroom as fast as he could with his friend.

“Dude,” the friends say in unison once they reach Peter’s locker.

“This is bad,” Peter says, opening up his locker.

“You’re telling me? I have to work with Flash. Time to plan my funeral,” Ned agrees.

“I have to work with Y/N. Out of everyone,” Peter groaned.

“That’s not even bad. I honestly do not get why you do not like her. She has always been nice to me. She’s very supportive of me and Betty.” Peter rolled his eyes as if his best friend betrayed him. In a way he did. He was fraternizing with the enemy. Of course he didn’t understand. “Anyway, dude, I gotta go. See you at my house tonight.” Ned begins to leave, but not without doing the handshake.

As Peter replaces the books from American History with the ones for his next class, he hears you and Flash talking.

“Why don’t you ask the teacher to switch? She would probably listen to you. Your dad is literally famous,” the annoying bully stated.

“No, Flash. Drop it,” you reply. Honestly, Peter wishes you would. That would solve both of his and Ned’s problems.

“You really want to work with that dork instead of me?” Flash pushed.

“I am not going to use my social status to my advantage,” you responded.

“But come on, it’s Penis Parker,”

“Peter Parker,” you almost yelled. “His name is Peter Parker and I’m leaving this conversation.” You walked away, practically whipping your hair in Flash’s face. Peter shoved his head back into his locker. He was surprised you actually corrected your friend. No one had ever done that, but that doesn’t matter. It didn’t make him dislike you any less and nothing would. He hears a knock outside the locker. He closes his locker, deeming he was done with it anyway. He was shocked to meet your eyes so close to his.

“What do you want?’ He asked a lot more bitterly than he planned. You take a step back.

“Well, hello to you too, Parker,” you greeted.

“I have to get to class,” He avoids your gaze and goes around you to go to his class. You catch up with him.

“Fantastic that we have the same class next, huh?” God, he just wanted you to leave him alone.

“Yay,” he says sarcastically.

“Anyway, I think we should get a head start on this project-” you start but Peter interrupts you.

“I’ll just do it.”

“What?’ He hated the dumbfounded look on your face.

“That’s what you were going to say, right?”

“No, not at all. I would never. I was just going to say, we should get a head start on the project, since we are both busy people. With me and my, well you know, my parents and you with your Stark Internship-” Peter interrupts you again.

“Ah, I get it now.” Peter stops right outside of the classroom. “Y/N, I was having a really good day today and now it kind of sucks. I really don’t want to spend half of my senior year with you, so we will split up the work in class and work on our part in our spare time. Great talk.” He goes into the classroom and takes a seat before you could even respond.

He shouldn’t be surprised at the fact you were only being nice to him for your own gain. As soon as you mentioned the Stark Internship, he knew. All you wanted was to meet Tony Stark and the rest of the Avengers and woo them over. He wasn’t having it. The Avengers was his thing, not yours.

“Why were you talking to Y/N? I thought you hated her,” MJ said as Peter sat down next to her.

“We got paired up for an American History project,” he responded. His eyes follow you as you walk through the classroom and take the available seat next to him. Peter rolled his eyes. Why couldn’t you take the hint? MJ looked over at her friend confused. “Why are you sitting next to me? Don’t you have your little clique over there?” He points to the group of people staring at you dumbfounded.

“Because we need to get this project done, and I’m not going to let your stupid opinion about me prevent me from getting an A, so I’m not going to leave you alone until we come up with an actual game plan,” you reply with determination.

“Stupid opinion,” Peter chuckled. The only stupid thing about this is that he had to work with someone as ignorant as you. Then, the English teacher interrupted their conversation and began class.

The entire class period you tried getting Peter’s attention which only annoyed him more. It took everything in him to not yell at you. You had to know you were bothering him. He was starting to think you were enjoying this. His jaw clenched anytime you said his name. Even when you weren’t trying to get his attention, you agitated him. You occasionally clicked your pen one too many times and bounced your leg. By the end of class he was over it. Luckily this was his last class of the day, so he tried to run out of there as quickly as he could. Unfortunately, you’re fast too and caught up to him. This was his breaking point.

“Can you just leave me alone? You’re driving me crazy,” Peter hissed.

“Good! All I want to do is get this project done, but you’re the one being stubborn!” you argued.

“Why are you so worried about it? We were just assigned today.” Peter is at his locker now, getting his backpack together.

“I don’t know if you noticed, but I barely have time for school as it is and my schedule is super unpredictable, so the sooner the better,” you answer.

“Believe or not, I haven’t noticed anything because not everything is about you. I don’t give a shit your dad is this big thing in Hollywood or whatever,” he said, slamming his locker door shut. You take a deep breath as you compose yourself.

“Can we please just get this project done and then, I will be out of your life,” you beg. Peter dreaded the idea of seeing you more than he had to, but for once, you had a point. The sooner the project was over with, the sooner you would leave him alone. You took his silence as an answer. “Are you doing anything now? We can head to the library, or if your place makes you more comfortable?” Before Peter could answer, Ned showed up.

“Hey, man! I was wondering what time you were coming over? Lola wanted to know what time she should start dinner.” Then, he notices you standing next to Peter. “Sup, Y/N?” You shoot him a huge grin.

“Just trying to get Peter to work on this project with me. How are things with Betty? She cannot stop gushing over you,” you ask Ned, still smiling brightly at him.

“Great! We are going to the movies here soon,” he responded.

Peter chimes in before you can steal his best friend away from him, “Anyway, I’m not sure. Something tells me my evening is about to be planned for me. I’ll text you.” Once Ned walks away to find his girlfriend, you and Peter continue your reluctant conversation.

“Do we really have to start tonight?” asked Peter. He believed he had enough of you for today.

“Yes,” you say, no longer giving him the choice. He groaned in defeat. It’s just one night.

“My aunt is out of town, so I’m staying at the tower. This is only a one time thing.” He could not believe he was actually going to be spending time with you. Why couldn’t you just ask the teacher to switch partners? The both of you would have been so much happier if you would have asked to be partners with Flash. Speaking of the devil himself, Flash comes to pull you away from Peter.

“Are you ready to leave?” Flash asked, ignoring Peter’s presence.

“Actually, I’m going with Peter so we can start on that project,” you reply, which receives a scoff from your companion.

“Really, you’re going with that loser? Come on, dude. We have an entire semester to finish that project,” he says.

Finally, someone that gets it, he thought. He didn’t realize he was thinking out loud until you glared at him.

“Goodbye, Flash.” You seemed as annoyed with him as you were with Peter. The bully got in Peter’s face to say, “You better not try anything, Penis Parker.” As if. Peter wishes you would just leave with Flash.

This morning, Peter would have never guessed his school day would have ended with him and you walking to the Avenger’s tower. How could a day that was going so great end so terribly? You had to put on a ball cap and sunglasses before you could step outside of the school. You insisted if you didn't, the paparazzi would be all over. You really thought highly of yourself, didn’t you? He wondered how you could fit all that ego in one body. The entire walk to the tower was filled with awkward silence and you trying to hide from the public.

As soon as you reached the building and went inside, you took off your “disguise.” Did you really think that worked?

“Wow, this is amazing. I’ve never had the chance to be inside the Avengers Tower,” you said in the most annoying voice ever which made Peter roll his eyes. He scanned his badge as he reached the elevator.

“Welcome, Peter. Mr. Stark is awaiting your arrival on the fourteenth floor in the community area,” the AI, FRIDAY, informed. He hit the button for the floor where Mr. Stark was waiting. You stared in awe of the AI.

“Thanks, FRIDAY. Can you let him know I have, uh, someone with me?”

“He was already made aware,” she answered.

“Woah,” you whispered. “This is…wow.”

“Can you not do that? It’s annoying,” Peter scoffed.

“Sorry,” you respond, anxiously.

The elevator’s doors open to reveal the billionaire fidgeting with his fingers and a pen over a counter.

“What’s up, chico,” he greets Peter, and then, he notices you. “And chica.” Tony raises his eyebrows in shock. “Wow, Peter. I was beginning to wonder if you had any skills when it came to girls.” He could slap his mentor.

“It-it’s definitely not like that. We just have a project,” he corrected.

Tony just ignores what he said and says, “Hi, I’m Tony Stark, but you probably know that. I’m sure Peter talks about me all the time.” He walks up to you and aggressively shakes your hand which makes your cheeks turn red. “Wait, aren’t you Y/N L/N? How in the hell did Peter get your attention?” he questioned, jokily.

“Mr. Stark,” Peter groans.

“Uh, yes, and Peter and I are just partners for a project. He made it clear he has no interest in spending more than a minute with me than he needs to,” you grit in between your teeth. For the first time since the two of you got assigned to the assignment, he could feel your hate for him. Tony turns to look at the young teen boy.

“Yesh, this is why you don’t have a girlfriend. You kids have fun,” the billionaire walks away.

About five minutes later, Peter finds himself in the lab with you beginning the project. He decided he wanted to work where he felt most at ease, and that was here. He has so many fond memories working on his suit in the lab with Tony, so of course this was his ideal place. You had already set up shop at an empty table.

“Alright, what do you want this project to be about?” you ask him as you pull up a document on your laptop.

“I was thinking about the advancement of technology,” he answered, making you chuckle. He glares at you.

“You realize that will be everyone’s project, right? We should do something unique,” you exclaim.

“Alright, what were you thinking, then,” he said in a mockery tone.

“I think music could be fun! Who doesn’t like music?” A smile forms on your face at the thought of music.

“Of course you would say that,” Peter groans. Your smile fell and you wrapped your arms around yourself as if you were comforting yourself. Peter is pulling out his own laptop when you speak up.

“What is your problem?” Your voice is no louder than a whisper. “I’ve done nothing, but been nice to you. Did I do something?”

“Nice? You’ve been nice to me? You have let Flash walk all over me and Ned. You act like all anyone cares about is you just because your dad is some all-time celebrity. Guess what, princess? No one gives a crap,” he argues. Your face scrunchies up in anger.

“You-you don’t know anything about me, Parker! I have stood up for you on countless occasions-” Tears are forming in your eyes, since you don’t know how to express your emotions properly, but before you can continue Peter cuts you off.

“Giving me a pity smile doesn’t count as standing up for me,” he snarls.

“Fuck you! Fuck you, Parker,” you yell. “You are a hypocrite. To think that Betty told me you were the nicest and most understanding person she knew. You are no better than Flash, hell, maybe even worse.”

Sure, Peter strongly disliked you, but something about you comparing him to Flash made his heart sink. He had always thought of himself better than a bully, but here he was bullying you. Perhaps, he was judging you too quickly. He knew his aunt raised him better than that. Peter readjusted his position and started to apologize when he tripped into something, causing a bright blue light to flood the room. A loud buzzing sound echoed in the lab.

“What the hell is that?” you hollered over the noise. Then, the light had absorbed you, and you were gone.

“Fuck,” Peter mumbled to himself. Even though he did not like you, he knew he would not be able to live with himself if he abandoned you. He went into the light, and just like you, he was gone.

A buzzing noise rang through Peter’s ears as he opened his eyes to a brightly lit room. He was in the lab, of course. Where else would he be? It’s not like he went wandering off.

“Y/N?” He calls out as he frantically looks around the room, noticing some minor changes.

“Yeah, I’m here,” you answer as you rub the back of your head. You must’ve hit it. “What happened? Where is all of our stuff?” The tables that previously sat all of your and Peter’s belongings were now empty and now replaced with small gadgets. “What did you do?” You glare at Peter.

“What did I do? I didn’t do anything!” He almost yelled.

“Ugh, if you would’ve just shut up and helped me with the project, this would have never happened,” you match his tone.

“Of course you blame me because daddy’s little princess doesn’t do anything wrong.” This changes your expression. Tears start falling out of your eyes. Peter knew he went too far.

He looks over to the monitor. Turns out when Peter tripped, he accidentally set off the Teleporter Machine. It was just a prototype, so it only took the two of you to the next lab over. “I found out what happened. Our stuff is in the other room. Let’s just try to find Mr. Stark,” he tries, but you don’t move.

“I thought out of everyone, you would understand, but I was wrong,” you whisper.

“What?” You ignore him.

“You know, I always envied you.”

“What?” He repeats.

“You get a mask. You get to hide from the spotlight. Pretend you’re a nobody. I don’t get that, Peter!” You exclaim. Peter can feel heat rising in his chest, his hands are getting clammy, and his armpits are starting to sweat as anxiety overcomes him. Do you know?

“I know who you are, Parker. You don’t do a job hiding it. I’m surprised the Daily Bugle hasn’t caught on.”

“You know?” Peter’s heart skips a beat.

“I’ve been observing you since freshman year. Even then, I wished I was you. A nobody. Someone who didn’t care when they were made fun of. So, naturally I was intrigued. I watched you doodle in class and somehow get every question right. I wanted to talk to you, but then you wouldn’t be a nobody anymore. I didn’t want you to get swallowed up by the spotlight. I didn’t want to take that away from you. When sophomore year rolled around, sightings of a mysterious hero called Spider-Man started popping up. That’s when you started acting strange. The whole thing in D.C just confirmed my wildest thoughts,” you finish. You wipe away the last of the tears. “But, you know what they say. Never meet your heroes. I’m going to ask to switch partners. Sorry.” You begin to leave, but Peter stops you.

“Y/N, I don’t even know what to say,” Peter tries. He feels so guilty. It shouldn’t have taken you pouring out your gut for him to realize how much of an ass he was being.

“You don’t have to say anything.” You awkwardly stand there, waiting for him to let you by.

“No, I do. You were right. I’m being a hypocrite. You have been nothing but nice to me and I immediately thought you were the worst human being ever. It wasn’t even because of Flash. I guess, I also was jealous of you,” he admitted. Your eyes were now on him. “I mean, I always wanted to know what it was like to be popular or what it was like to have endless amounts of money. You are everything I wish I was. I wish I still had my dad around to explain complicated formulas or buy me LEGO sets. I wish I wasn’t a nobody who constantly gets made fun of. If it wasn’t for Spider-Man, I would have nothing. I would have never mattered to anyone.” It was Peter’s turn to cry. He was expecting you to laugh at him or just leave him there, but you didn’t. You did something unexpected.

You hugged him.

You gently caress his back as his tears soaked your shirt. “You matter. So much. You have Ned and MJ, who would never hurt you. Not to mention, you’re a freaking genius. You’ll probably be the one who cures cancer.” Peter manages a light chuckle. “I’m sorry, I’m terrible at cheering people up.”

Peter lifts his head from your shoulder. “I don’t know, I think you did a heck of a job.” You beam a smile at him. “I’m sorry for judging you so quickly. Do you think we could still be partners?”

“I think we could make something work.”

part 2 here

#fanfic #peter parker #my writing #peter parker x reader #fiction #marvel #celebrities #spiderman #newyork #reader #enemies to friends trope

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mj-ackerman · 2 years

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SxF Light Novel: Family Portrait Translation Mission 3: Franky's New Love!? (Part 2)

<<PART 1. . . PART 3>>. DO NOT REPOST

“Oh, is he really that big of a dog?”

“Yes, that’s right. It’s big enough for the kid in the house to ride on it. Let’s see, I think it’s about the size of a small bear? And he’s got a lot of fur too.”

Franky said exaggeratedly while sitting side by side with Alessa on a bench in the backyard of the hospital.

Over the past month, Franky has been coming into the backyard as often as he could to listen to her sing and to chat. Alessa enjoys the little sweets and flowers Franky brings as if they were expensive gifts, and she would laugh like a tinkling bell at the most trivial of topics. More than anything else, Franky could tell that she was looking forward to meeting him, and whenever he saw Alessa’s smile, Franky was filled with a feeling of trepidation, but also a sense of happiness that he had never felt before.

“We wanted to play frisbee at the park nearby, he’s a naive dog so he got all excited over it, but he just ended up sitting and staring after we got there.”

When Fanky talked about Loid’s dog, Alessa let out a sigh. She mumbled enviously,

“Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve always wanted to have a big dog, but my father didn’t allow me to have one because he said that animal hair is bad for my throat…”

“Oh…”

At that, Fanky lowered his shoulders.

While he felt sorry for Alessa’s despondent profile, he also thought at the same time,

Well, of course it’s like that.

After all, Alessa is the daughter of that Balzer family.

Loid is likely to call him a “stalker” again, but Franky, in his informant’s saga, has done all the research on Alessa’s origin and career, and even though she looks young, Alessa is already nineteen years old.

The Balzer family is famous for producing prominent musicians, and Alessa’s father is a world-renowned pianist. Her mother is also a world-renowned opera actress. Her brother, who is three years older than her, is an up-and-coming pianist who is said to be traveling around the world. Her uncle is a conductor of a prestigious orchestra, and her aunt is a genius composer. It is said that many of the patrons of the family are important people from Ostania.

Alessa, who will turn 20 this year, was also scheduled to make a spectacular debut as an opera actress like her mother two years ago, but she suddenly lost her eyesight due to a nervous system disease. Still, she practices singing alone in an empty backyard of the hospital so as to not weaken her talent. Franky even had a sense of respect for Alessa. If it were him, he would probably be sick and tired of everything and be totally bitter about it. He would probably be desperate and sulk about the world. However, during the past month, not a single word of lamentation about her situation has ever come out from the girl’s mouth. That’s why he wanted to do something for her.

“If that’s the case then, I’ll bring him here next week. He’s a naive dog, but he’s basically a well-behaved one, so he’s not scary. Why don’t you try giving him some treats?”

When Franky suggested that, Alessa’s white cheeks flushed red, she stood up from the bench and asks,

“Is it really okay?”

However, her face soon clouded over, and she sat back down on the bench.

“What? Are you worried about the hair? Well, he has long hair after all.”

When Franky said, “If that’s the case, I’ll just borrow a short-haired dog somewhere.” Alessa stammed, then after a pause, she mumbled a “No….” in a small voice.

“I actually have an eye surgery next week.”

“Seriously!?”

A startled Franky looked at Alessa.

“You should’ve told me that sooner! Something that important, why--”

“I’m sorry.”

“.......No, I should be the one saying sorry.”

She apologized in a voice that sounded as if she’s about to cry, and Franky, who had calmed down, potentially apologized too. Then, for a change, he let out a cheerful tone.

“It’s a simple type of surgery, right? Something that would take just about an hour?”

“..........”

“So it’s a complicated surgery then?”

Alessa silently turned away. Franky’s heart made a sickening thump as the girl gently lowered her lightless eyes. Neither of them spoke for a while.

The overcast sky looked as if it would rain at any moment. After a while, Alessa muttered,

“The truth is, I’m scared. The doctor said that it will be all over while I’m asleep under anesthesia, so it’ll be fine, but I’m scared thinking what if I don’t wake up…then, I wouldn’t be able to sing my favorite songs anymore, and I wouldn’t be able to talk to you like this, Mr. Franky.”

Alessa’s voice was hoarse. Her beautiful hair, which drew a gentle curve from her shoulders to her chest, was slightly trembling.

“You’re the first man I’ve ever had the pleasure of talking to, Mr. Franky.”

So the girl continued with a trembling voice.

“If I can keep it up and still sing a song, then Mr. Franky can still hear it.”

“Alessa…..”

“That’s more than enough for me, I’m happy with that….”

Alessa murmured in a voice almost like a sigh. Franky’s heart was crushingly happy and aching at the same time. He was happy that she cared so much about singing and that she thought so much of a man like him. But more than that, he was scared. No matter how advanced medical technology has become, there is no guarantee that the surgery will be safe when performed under general anesthesia.

Franky felt the same fear that Alessa felt. However, when Franky said in a deliberately cheerful voice,

“I know right? Surgery is scary after all, I know the feeling.”

He tried his best to restrain himself so that his voice would not tremble.

“I have a friend, his name is Loid, he’s a very cool and handsome asshole, but when he had his wisdom teeth removed, he was so terrified that he blacked out, you know.”

“He blacked out?”

“Also, he’s afraid of injections even now, avoiding it like a kid on the verge of crying.”

“Oh my….”

Franky is laying out a bunch of bullshit. On top of that, he deliberately sneaks in Alessa’s ears,

“I mean, what I said is all actually about me.”

“Oh my….”

“It’s a secret, okay.”

Alessa finally burst out laughing.

She laughed for a bit and whispered, “Thank you”. Making sure that smiles once again appeared on her face, Franky said in a soft voice, “No big deal”. It was a voice completely different from earlier.

“I’m sure your surgery will go well, Alessa. There’s no way such a sweet, good girl like you would be in misfortune. I can assure you that.”

“Franky…”

Alessa burst into tears and muttered in a faint voice,

“That’s not true. I’m not as nice or kind as you think I am, Franky. I’ve always been an intolerable jerk. I see myself as someone special. I’ve looked down on other people and thought that everything beautiful and glorious in the world belonged to me, and that’s why I don’t have friends who would come to visit me even now.”

Her beautiful doll-like profile looked lonely, but there was not the slightest hint of self pity. Franky looks at the girl’s profile and is touched by the gracefulness of someone who was ashamed of her own foolishness but looking firmly forward.

“However, I became blind and I’ve lost a lot of things, but now I can truly see what’s really important, what is truly beautiful.”

A faintly damp breeze played with Alessa’s hair. She turned to Franky and smiled softly.

“I was so happy that you’re always there to cheer me up and were there to tell me fun stories. You never told me to do my best or asked me if I was okay, instead, you always told me that it’ll be fine.”

“.......”

“I’m glad that I met you, Franky.”

Her deep barred eyes reflected Franky, yet she couldn’t see him. However, Franky sensed an even more deeper distance between himself and Alessa.

Alessa said that Franky is a beautiful thing, she believes so. She said that she realized what’s important after she lost her eyesight and lost so much more.

However, Franky hasn’t told Alessa who he really is.

“I’m going to have surgery. So, will you continue to stay by my side forever?”

“.....Saying something like that, I might be a very short, ugly guy, you know?”

As Alessa said it shyly blushing red in her pure white cheeks, Franky deliberately mingled with her as usual.

At that, Alessa said angrily,

“It doesn’t matter. I don’t care what kind of face you have. I don’t care if you’re short or if you’re ugly. I want you, Franky!

Then, as she was beet red up to her ears, she said,

“Oh….I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to call you short, or ugly,...... o-or anything like that….it’s just that, I just wanted to tell you that I don’t care about any of those things at all…..It’s not like I’m saying you’re short or you’re ugly, Franky….”

“You’re so silly…..Alessa, really.”

For once, Franky was glad that Alessa was blind.

As he doesn’t want anyone to see his face right now.

“Um? Franky?”

Alessa, perhaps worried that Franky had gone silent, reached out her thin fingers towards him. She unreliably scratched it in the air, and Franky instinctively catched it with both hands.

“Thank goodness.”

With that, the girl who can’t see smiled.

“I thought that you’ve gone somewhere else, Franky.”

“..........”

The girl’s fingers were thin, fragile like glass work, and looked like they might break at any moment. Franky wanted to hold on to it, but he gently let it go.

“Look, it looks like it’s going to rain, so go back to your room. You're gonna be in trouble if you catch a cold before your surgery, you know.”

“.....okay.”

When he said that in his usual tone of voice, Alessa nodded quietly.

“Please come and see me when the bandages come off, okay?”

“Sure.”

In front of the hospital ward, Franky parted from the girl who kept on waving at him, and with a certain determination in his heart, he called Loid.

-------------

I had a feeling it was going to be troublesome, but I didn’t think it would really be troublesome…..

Even though his hunch was correct, he was not the least bit happy about it. Loid folded his arms and was silent for a while before looking at the man in front of him.

“In other words, on the day the girl’s bandages come off, you want me to make you look like a different person, is that what you’re saying?”

“Yes. Please.”

“No way.”

Franky, who suddenly called him by phone and met in a certain back alley, told him what he had expected to hear, but in a way, it was also unexpected.

He has asked him before to teach him the secret to winning a date, or to give him advice on love, or to teach him the secrets of being popular with women, but it’s the first time he has heard him ask to change his face. That must have been how serious he was. However, using a special mask to become a different person to date a woman is out of the question.

First of all, there’s no way such deception would last forever. As long as Franky is an amateur informant and not a spy, there will always be a way for his true self to show up at some point.

“Love is more than just doing your best with your real face.”

When he said that and was about to leave, Franky was on his heels as he said,

“Wait! Didn’t I disguised myself as an SSS officer before to question Yor? I want it just like what you did back then! No, I want you to also change my hairstyle this time! I want to dress differently than I usually do! I want everything to look good!”

He clung to Loid’s waist.

“Anyway, just make sure it’s the furthest away from my face. The previous good-looking face was, after all, close to my real one.”

“No, how was it even close to your real face?”

(Note: Franky was talking about this disguised, from chapter 14 of the manga, episode 9 in the anime)

Loid told Franky that he was shameless and ripped his hands from his waist. However, Franky was not giving up.

“I don’t want a blonde-haired, blue-eyed, good-looking guy who, oh who looks like you by the way. How about a baby-faced, handsome guy with long, silky black hair? Or an intelligent guy with slanted eyes, thin eyebrows, and thin face?”

“I’m not going to say anything bad about you, so play it nice.”

Loid sighed.

“Didn’t I tell you before? It’s not a good idea to trick a woman into a relationship.”

“I also told you I didn’t want to hear that coming from you!”

“I see. See you then.”

“Ah, wait! Wait, please!! Master Twilight!!”

Loid turned on his heel with a smile, Franky came around quickly and said,

“I’m begging you. You’re the only one I can ask for. From the same status!!”

Saying that, he crawled on the ground and rubbed his forehead on the spot. It’s a custom called “Dogeza (kneeling down on the ground)” known in the far eastern island country.

Loid asked Franky, who seemed somewhat out of character for being more persistent than usual, in a serious voice.

“Are you really that in love with her?”

“.........”

Franky didn’t respond. Normally, he would have been more eager and said something like, “That’s right! So help me out! Have mercy on your ol’ pal scruffy!” Loid was sure of it.

Is he serious….

If so, he was even less inclined to lend him a hand.

“Listen, Franky. If it’s just something like teaching you how to win a date, then I’ll help you. However, even if changing you to a different person works, what are you planning to do after that? Are you going to keep asking me to change your face every time?”

That is just impossible. Throwing away one’s face is not such an easy thing to do. Even Franky must not be so stupid as not to understand that.

“Go see her just as you are. If you really care about her, that’s the best option you have.”

Saying that, when he was about to walk away this time, Franky muttered, “......zer’s” with his forehead pressed against the ground. Loid’s feet stopped on the hard stone pavement of the back alley.

“What?”

“She’s a daughter of the Balzer’s family.”

Franky looked up as he said this. His eyes behind the lenses did not reveal any color of emotion.

Loid raised an eyebrow.

“Balzer…..that famous musical family?”

“Yea.”

They are one of the most noble families producing world-renowned musicians. Among the backers, there are many bigwigs from Ostania whose information WISE would love to get their hands on. For Loid, it is honestly a pipe he wants down his throat.

“Alessa herself had a promising future as an opera actress. If she can see again, and if she becomes active on the world stage, she can get all kinds of information you’ll need.”

Franky told him matter-of-factly.

“If that’s the case, then it’s a no-brainer for you too, right?”

Franky’s voice reached Loid’s ears terribly cold.

“......are you really okay with that?”

His own voice was surprisingly dry.

The expression on Franky’s face as he responded was something he had never seen before.

“......Yeah. I’m okay with it.”

“I see.”

Loid responded briefly.

So that’s your answer huh

He has no intention of pretending to be a good citizen anymore. What Franky has proposed is undoubtedly of a great benefit to Loid. As a spy, he should be happy to accept it. And yet, there was a part of him that felt disappointed with the man in front of him.

Until now, he has deceived and used many women, and easily discarded them when they lost their worth to him. He has no intention of defending them, nor thinks his actions should be forgiven. Loid had something to protect, a mission, even if it meant getting his own hands dirty. There is not even a shred of ego in it. However, Franky’s desire to not lose someone he loves so much that he deceives that person and even makes him an unwitting informant, Loid was disappointed with that.

Even though Franky is not a spy like Loid….. He wondered why, and then, unexpectedly, he understood.

I see….so that’s how it is.

Loid was disappointed. To himself. And to this man in front of him.

He believed that this man was an idiot, but not that kind of trash. He’s someone who gets carried away easily, but he’s not a hateful moron, and he’s somewhat good-natured. In the end, he did not dislike this aloof and easy-going informant. To the extent that he harbors even the slightest bit of feelings of “friendship”, that he thought he had abandoned a long time ago, for this man.

This is ridiculous.

Loid felt a faint of irritation with his emotions.

Trust no one and don’t get attached to anyone. Wasn’t that the ironclad rule? Otherwise, people like themselves would not be able to survive.

As a spy, I can continue to get the information I need for my mission from this man.

That’s all to it. Nothing more, nothing less.

There was no need for him to buy that man a drink to console him after he was rejected by his unrequited crush, or to invite him over for dinner, or teaching him stupid things like the secret of being popular with the ladies. Their relationship wasn’t originally supposed to be like that…..

“I understand.”

When Loid responded in a low voice, Franky, with a relief in his voice, said,

“I’m in your debt.”

His face was completely his usual self.

“Thank you.”

“..........”

With one cold look, Loid turned his heels this time.

---------------

#spy x family #spy x family light novel: family portrait #franky franklin #loid forger #alessa balzer #please do not repost

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georgiapeach30513 · 2 years

Text

Got A Secret, Part 2

Summary: It was all up to you to help sell a lie

Pairings: Dayton White X Reader

Rating: mild

Warnings: language, gaslighting, manipulation, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 2.3K

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

You walk into Dayton’s home living room, and MacRay holds out his hand to. You raise up your eyebrow, and watch him wiggle his fingers around, palm facing up, “What?”

“Hand me your phone.”

“Why?”

He rolls his eyes as he looks you up and down, “You know the drill. You’ve seen it a few times. We went through your public social medias, but I need to know what’s on your phone.”

“Dayton!” He grimaces, but mouths out a please, and you hand it over to Doug, and sit in front of your ‘boyfriend’. “So what other humiliating thing am I going to have to do?”

“We need a timeline. It’s easy to put the two of you together, because you’re always there, but we need a narrative of when this started. Especially to get rid of our other issue,” Ray sits down beside Dayton. His gaze goes in between the two of you, while he waits on either of you to come up with a timeline.

You didn’t care. It didn’t matter. It was all fake anyways, and you’d leave it up to the professionals. Since they didn’t give you much of a choice, you weren’t going to help them. It was absurd.

“You’re on dating apps?” MacRay lifts up from your phone. “Seriously? And there's unopened messages. Great. Now we’ve got to pay these people off.”

“First off, I didn’t ask to be linked with Dayton. I am doing him and you guys a favor. He is your money. You can’t sell him, you lose money. Secondly, I joined a dating app because I’m always going from coast to coast for Dayton. I don’t have time to date the traditional way. So you can back off. This is Dayton’s mess that I am obliging your stupid fantasy world to get him out of it, and I won’t be apologizing for being a woman and wanting a companionship. Pay them off. You ruined my chance of dating anyone ever again anyways.”

You were bitter, but more importantly you were sick and tired being made to be the bad guy in this situation. Dayton was the one who screwed up, and you were doing all of them a favor, and they still had the audacity to like you were public enemy number one.

“Shooting star,” Ray looks over at Dayton, and then back at you. “We’re going to rebrand you as Dayton’s shooting star. Try to keep you as private as possible. And soon this will all be but a memory.”

“And then he goes and fucks another young girl. Then what? Maybe the real problem is Dayton’s inability to grow up and nurture real relationships.”

“Maybe you need to quit talking like I’m not here.”

“I didn’t ask for this life. I didn’t want to be in the spotlight. So yeah, I’m pissed off right now, and you’re going to get what I give you. Be ready for constant sarcasm and anger, because that’s how I feel, and that’s how I’m dealing with this. I met a nice guy. He called me a bitch because I lied to him about my famous boyfriend. You know, a little bit of a warning would have been nice.”

Doug hands your phone back, adn you don’t even want to look at what he could have removed. You had watched in live time as your social medias were being modified right before your eyes. Now everything you posted had to be pre-approved. Your family was untagged from posts, so they weren’t part of this nonsense. Things had only gotten started and you were exhausted.

“Little Miss pop tart is putting a bit of a hitch in our timeline. Dayton, you’re gonna have to take a hit,” Ray looks over at his client shrugging. “She’s got time stamped texts. You and Star over here had been talking, but it wasn’t serious. But when you were ready, you dropped it all. I’ll make sure that a source sends a tip into the gossip columns, and blogs.”

Well at least he wasn’t coming out unscathed. And here you thought that Dayton was going to be the good guy in the scenario. He looked sad, and you couldn’t quite put your finger on why. He was saving his image, while you carried on a lie for who knew how long.

“How long is this supposed to last?”

“I’m thinking at least a year,” you sink back into the couch. A year. A whole year of playing a part. It was annoying that you were the one putting your life on hold, and you didn’t even know why. “I see you have questions, but Dayton has been selling the whole I want to settle down, wants to get married, and want to have kids for a while. He had people talking about the fact that he was pandering to his audience. This gives them a steady relationship to talk about.”

“It’s a lie. And a year?”

“I figured that’s all you would agree to. Two to three years would be ideal. After the first seven months you’ll move in here. There’s plenty of room that you can sleep somewhere else, but we’ve got to sell this,” unbelievable. They were really trying to con you into covering up Dayton’s indiscretions.

“His fans and social media are actually responding well to this. There’s a few naysayers, and we’re hoping with the public outing it’ll put this to rest,” Dayton was eerily quiet. Just sitting there like a kicked dog with his tail in between his legs. “But the overall reception had been positive,” you hated them all right now. But Doug was particularly getting on your nerves. It was always going to be about the image.

“So we’re going to do this downtown. You’re going to have a nice lunch. Go walking around, and even go to the grocery store. Give the people the idea that you’re normal. Mundane things sell. Because you’re just like them. I don’t care what you talk about, just look happy. Look like you want to be together. We’re going to have Mickey outside the restaurant, and he’ll follow you to the market, and he’ll wait on you outside. I’m thinking you need to get some wine or beer. A few snacks, make it look like you’re coming back here for a nice evening at home. A few weeks from now, we’ll station some moving vans outside, and that will be all for awhile.”

You lean back staring at the ceiling, “I hate all of you.”

“You were the best option, and you have garnered favor with the fans. It’ll be a big step for Dayton’s career and yours.”

“And Dayton says nothing,” you sit up and stare only at him, “You played me. You could have had the decency to call me, text me, anything. But no, you waited until I couldn’t say no. You knew I wouldn’t. You knew I would do what it takes to protect you and your precious image. But after this…I can’t do this. I can’t work for someone that won’t give me the courtesy of asking me if this is okay.”

“Great,” Doug claps his hands, standing up, “I got your stylists ready to coordinate your outfits. And you can drive to the restaurant.”

“Do regret it?” You ask Dayton. You lean your head over to look at him. He looked too focused on driving, and the car was stifling. There was too much tension, and it drove you nuts. You hope he was able to act his ass off, because you still wanted to strangle him.

“Which part?”

“The stupid girl that you were fucking?” He quickly looks at you, and gives you a quick glare, before looking back at the road. “The part that involved me?”

“If there was another way, don’t you think I’d take it?”

“Uh-uh. What we’re not going to do is play your son story with me. You got yourself into this mess, and like always, you’re letting someone else clean it up. Do you regret getting me involved?”

Taking a deep breath, he pulls into the parking spot, and smiles over at you, “Since I have to be in this shitty situation, I’m glad it’s with you.”

“That’s not a fucking answer.”

“Media training, Shooting Star. You’ll be getting it, too. I’m sure there will be interviews. You gotta learn to shit the narrative to be what you want it to be. I’m thankful for you, and I’m glad that I have to have a fake relationship and live in girlfriend with you. I am not implicating myself in this trivial game of questions that isn’t going to change anything. It is what it is.”

“Normal people don’t do this,” he gets out of the car, and jogs over to your side. Opening up your door as he lets you out.

“I’m not a normal person. The photographer is going to be towards your left, under that boutique awning. So when we come out of the restaurant, he’ll get what he needs, but he is following us. We also have cell phones to worry about. Everyone has the ability to catch us on video or camera. We want photos. Videos show everything. Just go with it. Pretend you actually like me.”

It was hard to do that considering you hated him at the moment.

“I don’t like this.”

“Don’t open your mouth too much,” Dayton tells you, sliding his arm around your waist. His hand settles on your hip, and you turn your head to look up at him, “Smile,” you give him your best nervous smile, and he leans down to kiss you. Just a short quick peck, but there was a part of you that enjoyed it too much. The way his lips were so soft, and the way his matcha lingered in them, “Smile. People read lips. Keep it simple.”

“Okay,” you whisper, and his hands slides on your back, and into your hand. Annoyingly you found his fingers weaving in yours romantic. This is how you wanted to go out for a walk with a boyfriend. Not a fake one either.

He leads you into the grocery store, and you sigh in relief. “Don’t drop your guard. Cameras everywhere. The only place we’re safe is at home,” his home. Being forced to be your home shortly. It wasn’t fair. “You’re doing great, sweetheart.”

“And look at this,” Doug throws down a few gossip magazines that you push across the coffee table away from you. You didn’t care. Pulling the throw up closer around your neck, you lay down on the couch, and enjoy some warmth. “You’re the talk of the town. Got a few wanting exclusive interviews, and eventually we’re going to have to make this public relationship official. How would you like to do it? Joint instagram posts or an interview or…?”

“Wouldn’t it make more sense to wait until the moving vans gets here. Give people something to speculate again?” You hated yourself. Why would you offer this as a solution? It did make perfect sense, but you didn’t want to help them out anymore than you already were. “People enjoy the drama. They enjoy figuring things out. Leave a few cryptic messages, and they want to decipher them. Want to know if they’re close to the real answer.”

“I like the way you’re thinking. Play this game of what is going on a bit longer. Is this real? Is it a fling? Is it marriage?”

“It’s not,” you deadpan. Marriage would not happen out of this deal it was out of the question.

“Where’s Dayton?”

“He’s on a run. He needed time to clear his mind. I stayed home. I don’t want to be more public than I have to be. Now we’re in a bubble and a bigger radar, because people want to know the truth. I’m sure your photographer has gotten paid, and has done well for these exclusives, and I just want to take a nap, and be left alone to deal with my thoughts about my fake relationship with my fake boyfriend.”

“You know,” He begins. His voice was slimy and you hated the way it made you cringe. As if this situation wasn’t bad enough, you felt icky with him. “You don’t have to make this completely a transactional relationship. You were on a dating website. I’m sure in a year it’ll get lonely. Have some fun. From my understanding Dayton is a good lay.”

“Leave!”

“I’m just saying. Things could turn real.”

“I don’t date actors,” you roll over on the couch, putting your back to him, and sigh. “You never can trust them.”

While it would be easy to have something physical with Dayton, in the long run you knew it would make things more difficult. You were stuck with him for at least a year. Stuck in this house, and stuck on set with him. Being around him was unavoidable now. Add in a physical relationship, and it would get weird. Possibly make you closer in ways, but at the same time, it would make things too real. This wasn’t. This was fake, and it was something you were selling to the public, and unfortunately also to your family that didn’t understand the game.

Things may only had just become, but you were about to be with Dayton non-stop. Work with him, and come home to him. Even on set, you would be going back to his room. Everything relied on this little lie that was beginning to get bigger. But there was no way you would trust Dayton with your emotions. That kiss felt too real, and his hand felt too good on your skin. You couldn’t get caught up in his fake feelings. You wouldn’t.

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @sstan-hoe @infatuatedjanes @missusbarnes-rogers @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @peaches1958 @thedarkplume @rebekahdawkins @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers

#got a secret #actor!dayton white #dayton white #dayton white x reader #dayton white x fem!reader #dayton white x y/n #dayton white x you

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pinkykats-place · 2 years

Text

Bakugo Katsuki x gn!reader inserts

Tumblr Recommendations

Disclaimers!

Only gender neutral readers.

Stories and gif are NOT mine.

Note: if you read and like any of these stories - like, leave a comment and/or reblog original post!

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

Too Good For The Rest Of Us?

UA!Bakugou x Quiet!GN!Reader

Gentle Touch

Summary: Bakugou's friends slowly find out about his soft side through you.

Just hold me

"it's actually pretty easy being nice to a bitter boy like him"

𝐝𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐞, 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠

summary: the first time you tell katsuki bakugou you love him

The Bare Minimum (NSFW)

katsuki bakugou x gender-unspecified!reader

MEMORIES OR NOT

SUMMARY: in which bakugou ends up in a fight with a villain who’s quirk makes him forget the person he’s love most romantically. as you go to see him for the first time, you’re unsure what would hurt more: finding out the love of your life doesn’t remember you, or finding out that he does.

INSTINCTUAL

k.bakugou x gn!famous!reader

SYNOPSIS. your bodyguard has grown quite fond of you... luckily, you're the only one who knows. for now…

❝𝐍𝐎𝐓! 𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃❞

bakugo x gn!reader

summary : bakugo’s struggle to fight off his nervousness results in the two of you getting lost in the middle of the city. + first kisses & hand holding

Sick

Bakugou gets invested really easily

Katsuki’s Teeth

Aftercare w Katsuki

bakugo x gn!reader

Bakugou, because of his actions over words mentality, accidentally makes you feel incompetent

Alpha! Kitsune! Bakugo Katsuki x Omega! Kitsune! Gender-neutral! Reader

bakugo x gn!sibling!reader

tw: none! completely platonic and wholesome fluff. some swearing from bakugo a few times but that comes with the territory lol

#gn! reader #sfw #gender neutral reader #bakugo x reader #fluff #bakugo x gn reader #tumblr fic recs #tumblr recommendations #bnha x reader #bnha x gender neutral reader #only gn readers #pro hero bakugo x gn reader #alpha reader x omega bakugo #bakugo katsuki x gender neutral reader #nightmare comfort #reader insert recommendation #tumblr recommendation

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turtleskele · 7 months

Text

Introducing:

CASTAWAYTALE!

Synopsis:

Instead of being locked under a mountain, monsters were trapped on a faraway unknown volcanic island with a magic barrier reef around it.

The monsters learned to adapt quickly and were able to harness the volcano’s power for electricity. Initially they built their homes out of the surrounding trees, but quickly learned that those would not work living near a volcano. They soon discovered that the shells from the sea snails living around the island were heat resistant and that when crushed up and mixed into a mortar, made houses resistant to high heats, including lava. Thus they started not only raising and breeding more of these snails but also building their houses out of mortar mixed with the shell powder.

The monsters lived off of what tropical fruits and vegetables they could find as well as local flora, fauna, and fish. The islanders a very fond of fish and sea food, which very bountiful around the island. They also raise beautiful and rare sea snails as both pets and for the utilization of their shells when they grow to big for them. They were able to modify and cultivate a special bean that they use for a drink called Chaca. Just like coffee beans, it can be brewed into a drink and used as a source of energy. Unlike coffee, chaca energy lasts all day without side affects or a crash. They describe it as having a taste from caramel all the way to deep rich and bitter chocolate. The only known side affect is a natural pearlescent glow in the skin,fur/hair/feathers.

Monsters on this island, are very tan and most feathers and fur range from caramel browns to dark blacks. All except the skeleton monsters, whose bones bleach from the sun and have a pearlescent sheen from the chaca drink. But the islanders are most known for their strikingly bright eye colors, that showcase their strong magic. They are amazing fishermen, swimmers, tropical farmers, and sailors

CHARACTERS:

Sans: girl-Hana- Older sister to Kai, but looks incredibly young and innocent. And she is….until she gets comfortable with you. Then she gets mischievous. She loves exploring and foraging for new an exciting plants and foods to try. In fact she is the one that helped genetically modify the Chaca bean from a frail plant that blossomed at random and had a low survival rate into the thriving crop that it is now. Special ability: Plant doctor: Hana can look at a sick plant an immediately know what is wrong with it and how to fix it. She has helped save dozens of crops from failing. She has spring green magic.

Papyrus: boy- Kai

Younger brother to Hana but acts more mature out of the two- but not by much. Kai is a sweet talker, who almost always works with his shirt off and ribs exposed- he’s hot and he knows it. He loves the sea, sailing, fishing, and diving more than anything. Boy knows more about the different species of sea life and sea creatures than any other islander. He makes his living by crafting specialty fishing boats that are lava proof and can go toe to toe with any size catch without capsizing! Special ability: Heated hands; Kai can heat his hands from Luke warm to ripping hot in two seconds flat. A trait he inherited from his father, Teka. He has deep blue magic.

Gaster: Mother- Lea

Mother of Hana and Kai and Ex-partner of Teka. Though separated the two are still close friends and visit each other often. She is a skeleton monster with Teal colored magic. Lea taught her daughter everything she knows and holds the position as the royal plant cultivator. She domesticated several plants that the island community now depends on.

Grillby: Father- Teka

A magma fire elemental, he is the father of Kai and Hana and Ex-partner of Lea. Despite being a fire elemental, Teka actually has a calmer, more personable personality. He owns and operates the local Sea Shack which serves up local drinks, local food, and is famous for his open air fish grill. All his food is provided to him by his son Kai, and is locally caught fresh everyday.

Asgore: Hakuma: Dusty black furred Goat monster. Devoted partner to Kona and Chief of the island community. He also was the creator of the island coast guard, lead by Jumana.

Toriel: Kona- Caramel furred Goat monster with beautiful lime green eyes. Devoted partner to Hakuma and Chief of the Island community. She oversees the upkeep of the island, including make sure that any damages to buildings or homes are taken care of quickly. The safety of her community is very important to her

Muffet: Nava- Runs and operates the local Chaca Cafe. The main star is of course the Chaca drink itself and it’s many iterations, but she also showcases local fruits in her drinks as well as her sweets that’s she serves. She is most famous for her Islander fruit parfait and Chaca coconut bowl.

Undyne: Jumana- coffee brown colored scales with patches of grey on her hands legs and parts of her face- a fish version of vitiligo-with pearlescent sheen that all the islander monsters have. Vibrant purple magic. Jumana is the captain of the island coast guard

Alphus: Tima- In charge of and the inventor of the thermal energy generators that power the island from the volcano. She monitors the Volcano for any activity.

#undertale AU #castawaytale

I’d love to hear y’all’s thoughts! If you have any questions about this world please send me an ask! I plan to start posting more ideas for AUs in the future.

#undertale

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chimeraacademy-comic · 11 months

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A New Journey

When a child leaves the Foundling House, it is always an exciting time. Whether that is finding a place to call home, or starting a new journey. However, this had to be one of the most memorable sendoffs that in Matron Weatherby's life.

All of the children were gathered outside of the Foundling House, though not necessarily to see their fellow orphans off. Salron and Emmi, while good children, well behaved and kind, were generally outcast among the others closer to their age. Father Connery once told her it was the misfortune of tieflings to be exorcised by society, but frankly Weatherby felt that if the twins were of any race other than human it probably would have ended the same way. Airytile was very much a human settlement, and in all her years as a matron she had never had even a half-elf or a halfling come through her halls.

So it really did not surprise her at all that the twins were exotic in nature, for better or for worst.

What did surprise her though (and maybe shouldn't have) were the twins acceptance into one of the most sought after arcane schools in the Empire. When the twins brought up to her and Father Connery that they wanted to study in order to gain scholarship into Chimera Academy they were taken aback but agreed to let the two try.

After all, their late mother knew magic. Darlina was famous for being able to get stains out of any object soiled, and light candles without matches. If you visited her home, she always had a chilled drink in the summer and a warmed drink in the winter for guests. And even the girls had once spoken about how when they got sick, Darlina would make bitter medicine taste very sweet like candy. So magic was in their blood, it made sense they wanted to follow in her footsteps.

It just confused the adults involved why it had to be Chimera, when there was a perfectly good arcane school two days away. Father Connery was the first to agree, but on the condition that the two also applied to that arcane school closer to Airytile. Frankly, neither thought that the twins would get into Chimera Academy, but the goal of getting into an arcane school was a sound one. The twins were already had a basic education thanks to Darlina, and being wizards, even if it was just a low leveled one, would open up so many more doors for them.

And then… the acceptances came back, for both schools.

Weatherby wouldn't admit it aloud, but she was fond of the children, even if Emmi got into things she shouldn't and Salron's lack of gender was strange to her. Personally, Weatherby would have preferred the two attend the arcane school close by, this way if anything went wrong, the two could come back to the Foundling House and Oghma's Temple, but she would be a fool to ask that of the two. Chimera Academy was considered the best of the best. They had resources, classes and knowledge that made anything within a tenday of Airytile seem miniscule at best.

It was Father Connery that had put her mind at ease. He told her quietly the night the acceptance letter came in that there was a professor who was raised by clergy of Oghma and had a very good reputation among them. The twins would be safe, he was sure of it.

Which brings her back to, today, where she stood outside of the Foundling House as the children oo-ed and aw-ed over the carriage that was sent to take the twins to their new school, and their new life. It was the fanciest thing that anyone in town had seen in a few decades. The wood was stained a pink cream colour and the inside had the plushest seat cushions that Weatherby had ever seen. It was like something out of a fairytale.

Emmi stared up at the carriage, awe in her voice as she asked, "Is that really all for us?"

"They really went all out, kind of weird," Salron voiced, being ever practical.

It really did seem over the top for two scholarship students, Weatherby had to admit to herself. But she supposed that Chimera had a reputation to keep. Perhaps it wouldn't do for any student of theirs to be traveling in anything less than what was expected for a school that regularly accepted nobility and wealthy merchant children.

Gods… she couldn't help but think to herself, they were going to be learning alongside nobles and merchants. Important people… yes, she had given the two a crash course in manners, but what if they accidentally insulted someone? What if the school decided they didn't want two tiefling children in their classrooms? What if…

"I've already sent a letter to Jiva to let him know about the twins," Father Connery spoke up quietly, breaking Matron Weatherby out of her running thoughts, "He's a good lad, and will look out for the two."

"Oh… that's good, does he know they're tieflings?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes, it's not a problem for him. I'm sure he's seen all sorts of races during his travels in his younger days," Connery assured her, "They'll be fine, and if they decide Chimera isn't for them, he'll make sure they're set up with good jobs. Even if they only stay for a year, it's enough to get them a decent teaching job somewhere."

She scolded the old priest before she could even think, "Don't say that! They'll graduate with flying colours and become fine wizards."

"Of course, of course," he waved off her scolding, "But never hurts to be prepared."

She ignored him; the two had already surprised them, and at this point she was willing to believe fully in their dreams. Weatherby reached into her pocket and took out the two coin pouches she had prepared for them. It was tradition in the Foundling House that if an orphan aged out, or went onto an apprenticeship, they would be given one gold coin to start them on their new journey. Matron Weatherby (with Father Connery's help) managed to get three gold coins for each child. She had heard tools for magic was expensive, and hoped this would see them well in their new studies.

And maybe one day they would return, fully graduated and many stories to tell.

#chimera academy #dnd #tiefling #dnd oc #writers on tumblr #short story #world building

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 1 year

Text

Rage Fire Institution

Confessional. 4.

Throwing himself down on his bed, Maki had a good mind to lodge a complaint. The weather had turned sour, freezing rain hitting like needles against the flesh of the students forced to run. He’d been prepared, sensing the incoming change in the weather in the air and warning those closest to dress accordingly, still, that didn’t mean hit boots hadn’t turned to sodden mess and his training pants a muddied mess from the knee down. That night no one gave two shits about any form of embarrassment, crowding in the showers all desperate to return blood flow and warmth to their chilled bodies.

What he couldn’t grasp was why that arsehole had been there. His babysitter. His babysitter forced to run laps like the rest of them despite not being in the first two years. Apparently the third and forth years had been spared the same punishment and humiliation.

“That damn Skylark, he can suck my dick. What the shit was that? You just know he’s not going to give any students time off if they get sick”

Maki silently agreed with his roommate. They might have different schedules, but they still had much the same classes. Due to space constraints each year was divided into six seperate time tables as well as study tracks. Forms and home rooms were conducted in mixed classes in the pilot track, the same when designating rooms, with the hopes of friendships or some shit the proclamation from above. The institute had expanded as much as it could, yet with small beginnings, or rather beginnings that would now be called small, only so much space was allocated. When they’d run out of vertical space, the only way to build was up.

Feeling a kick against his leg, Maki raised his head. His roommate glaring down at him for blocking the ladder to his bunk above. Tarva Hold came from another planet, and why he’d chosen Rage Fire would always be beyond Maki’s understanding. Neither male had a good relationship with each other, his upper bunk buddy tossed too much in his sleep and seemed to take each of Maki’s excursions outside the institute as some kind of insult. With his fiery red hair and red eyes, rage suited the alpha well

“Move it”

Sighing, Maki moved his legs. He didn’t think the noise he’d made would segway into anything, yet with four pissed off alphas in the room, he should have known better.

Across from him sat Gudius Lant. His parents were from Terra, third or fourth generation, with only faint traces of his ancestry showing in vertical irises as sensitive as a cats. He’d liked to brag that his race had a natural affinity with small electronics, yet Maki had never seen him in action. Ruffling his wet blonde hair, the alpha couldn’t keep his mouth shut

“What’s this I hear about you getting a hit in? The famous slacker actually managed a hit?”

Having climbed up his bunk, Tarva stuck his head over the side to talk down to Maki

“Him? He did? I thought all he was good for was breaking out and flaunting his rule breaking”

Maki flipped him off. Anything else seemed too much effort. Guduis gave a small laugh at the pair of them

“If you keep this up, I’m going to think you’re flirting. No shit, Tar, he got a hit in on that mech. It’s all over the forum with video of it too. Right before he got his arse handed to him”

Tarva snorted

“I bet you he didn’t last 30 seconds”

Only, Maki had. Guduis seemed pretty keen to keep the topic going

“He lasted a minute 20 seconds. Technically he got one of the top scores today”

As the colour drained from Tarva’s face, Maki rolled over onto his left side. He hadn’t known that himself. He’d barely watched his match and then scrawled some lame excuse for his short comings once he’d joined the legion of bitter classmates. His fight hadn’t felt long, not long enough to have passed the minute point. He’d have to access the system and download the data… which he’d intended to do earlier yet hadn’t gotten too.

“Fuck that…”

Tarva’s tone was bitter. He’d probably been beaten in half a minute flat. Guduis all smiles as he opened his desk drawer and pulled out a snack

“It’s true. No one got to see the pilot today. Though we did get to see something else interesting, the school forums blowing up over who could have been in that mech. Even the senior years claim it wasn’t them. So if it wasn’t, who has the stamina to stay in a mech that long other than the teachers?”

Maki didn’t care. Or rather, he couldn’t show his interest with the insufferable Tarva there. Tarva doing, as the Maki had hoped, by biting the bait waved in his face

“What? Hold up. Are you telling me it wasn’t a student, or a teacher. That only leaves remote control viewing or the research department… unless they brought someone else in. No. They wouldn’t want it getting out that they’re slacking in their training”

Guduis nodded

“Exactly. Which leaves only the research department. Some bastard there knows how to pilot at an elite level. They had to not only work out each individual students methods, but contain their individual strength, regulate their connections, and adjust to the level of output each pilot placed through the mech. I’ve never met anyone like that. Even the returned students were shocked and they’ve had frontline experience. My guess is that we’ve got a new student, or today wasn’t simply about torturing each of us”

The bunk above creaked as Tarva rolled back

“Those fucks think because we’re students all were good for is fodder”

Maki silently agreed. Returnees from the front lines tended to keep to themselves. No returnee would enrol in the first or second levels unless they discovered they couldn’t hack it on the front lines. Even then, the school was quick to use them as poster children and parade their accomplishments. They didn’t seem the type to take credit for repeatedly beating student pilots, yet that didn’t mean they wouldn’t drop a fellow comrade in it on the forum.

Forcing himself back up, Maki reached for his bedside drawer. He was far too tired for gaming that night, and intended only on downloading his data. The move didn’t escape Guduis’s attentions as his roommate kept on being annoying

“Right. It’s a Thursday tonight. You usually go out on Thursdays, don’t you”

One again, Tarva bit hard. His annoying face coming over the bunk again, narrowly missing hit Maki’s as he did

“You better not be thinking about it. I’m going straight to Skylark if you do”

He would too. Guduis may looked more like a snake than Tarva, but Tarva had the snakey personality. Sighing at the idiot above him, Maki couldn’t leave, even if he’d wanted to

“I’m getting my headset. And, Guduis, since when do you care whether I go out or not?”

Guduis shrugged casually

“I don’t particularly. I just know you’ve got that sister you think of. She must be a piece of work if she’s your sister”

Ahhh… Right. Guduis knew. He’d forgotten that completely, his roommate catching him ending a call with her months ago. Since then he’d taken careful measures not to call where anyone could hear. Tarva gasped

“You have a sister? He has a sister? There’s more than one of you?”

Shooting Guduis a glare, Maki pulled out his headset

“I never said I was an only child. She’s at home, doesn’t go to school, not that that’s any of your business. I’m surprised you even remembered she existed”

Reopening his drawer, Guduis pulled out a few more bags of snacks, throwing a couple over to Maki

“Normally your face is so severe I can’t be bothered teasing you. Somehow you look more human than ever before. It’s who you go see isn’t it? When you’re outside?”

Maki made a mental note not to ever do anything other than glare in Guduis direction in the future. No. He didn’t go visit his sister. That was too far to travel in one night and be back by morning, even for him, unless she desperately needed him home

“If you want to think that, you can. And before you get ideas, Tarva, she’s a kid. I’m not giving you her number”

Tarva made a look of sheer disgust as he scolded him

“Don’t lump me in the same category as you. She can’t be any good if she’s your sister”

The alpha wanted a fight. Maki would have so very much liked to hit him for his comment, but that was more drama

“She’s a kid. End of discussion. Don’t disturb me, I’m going to download my specs and then to sleep. It’s lights out soon as it is”

With his headset on, Maki settled back in bed, glad for the headset covering his eyes so he didn’t have to watch Tarva moving above him. Seeing a new alert on the corner of his screen, he found a dozen new messages about his fight with the mech. Li must have already been bragging given so many people now seemed to know his username. He liked it better when people didn’t. He didn’t want them talking to them and he really didn’t want them knowing about his family’s situation.

With a soft ding, his focus was pulled from his messages. A game request from a user named “TatsaTiger”. He couldn’t remember versing the user before, but for some reason they’d reached out… probably due to his accidental moment of fame. Another ding followed, a new message from “TatsaTiger” simply stating “accept”. Whatever. He might as well. He had no way to vent his frustrations physically, he might as well do so mentally.

***

The fever over the new pilot theory quickly extinguished itself. About a week had passed and in that time Maki had avoided detention smoothly. For some reason the people around him seemed to no longer turn away, some even casting weird smiles in his direction which left him offended slightly. All he wanted to do was keep himself to himself and get through his daily routine without extra trouble.

So why did trouble have to come looking for him?

Crash tackled by Li as Maki walked into his advanced bio-engineering class, his head was still under his best friends arm as trouble reared its ugly head. His babysitter was already there, talking with the teacher… both of them looking up at the disturbance, solely caused by Li, at the same time. Maki’s heart sunk. The day had barely begun and trouble seemed on the horizon for him.

“Mister Sato and Mister Kang, seeing you’re both so energetic this morning, you can both take a seat up here at the front. Each side of Mister Hikaru please”

Other students poorly hid their giggles as the pair made their way to the front row of the lecture hall. Li had never had to sit through one of the Professor’s lectures over behaviour before, so Maki felt both equally and amused over the suffering of his best friend. Their lecturer, a stern omega named Peony Walters, wasn’t a bad woman. If anything, she was one of Maki’s preferred teachers. Dynamics didn’t matter in the slightest to her and she was living proof there was no such thing as a weak omega. No talking was permitted in her class, nor did she show favouritism. No student was more worthy than another and if one student was struggling with a topic she always covertly worked strategic helpful hints in her lecturers, without shaming whoever the student was. She had backbone to make it on her own.

Ending her conversation with the Professor with a nod, his babysitter causally took his seat between Maki and Li. Being a teacher, Maki didn’t expect the professor to pull out his own notebook and supplies. Normal classes allowed the use of data pads, but a lot of students found paper notes still useful especially for quick sketches of schematics. Li voicing what Maki was thinking

“Professor, you’re acting like a student. Surely you’re not taking this class too?”

“Mister Kang, I do believe you just got yourself into trouble. I suggest you open your notebook before things get worse. I know you’re a good student so it’s best you pay attention. Today’s lecture is about the upcoming team project”

Maki bit down a laugh as Li pulled a face. Not to be left without the final word, his friend made a show of pulling out his data pad

“I was getting to it. Seriously though, what’s a teacher like you doing here? Don’t tell me Skylark is punishing you too”

The professor snorted softly. A softness coming over his face. That wasn’t how this was supposed to go. What happened to the man who lectured him easily? The Professor’s tone carrying a light note of humour

“No. I’m not that bad. Neither is that one in trouble. Due to circumstances I’ll be in this class. Think of me as a fellow student who doesn’t want a bad grade”

Li’s eyebrows shot up, his expression asking Maki if he was hearing the same thing

“You’ll be in our class? But aren’t you a professor already? Wait, if we’re working on a team project, you’ve totally got to help us out here”

“I don’t know where you got the impression I’m a professor from. And yes, I’ve already been asked to be in the same team as you both. Ms Walters asked me in early hence my arrival before you two. Now, I suggest you pay attention. Honestly… a professor at my age… I wish I could see the world as easily as you do. It’s not easy to pick up a degree, let alone one from a place like this”

Maki could only blink rapidly. For months he’d firmly believed the Professor to be a professor or some kind of teacher, maybe even a teachers assistant… and now he had this information, he felt as if his brain had been smacked with a sledgehammer. The… the Professor… was the Professor actually a student the whole time?

#rfi #rage fire instition #omegaverse

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genshinboys · 3 years

Text

Modern AU headcanons - Diluc as a wine industry tycoon

Warning: NSFW

Pairing: Diluc x gn reader

You and Diluc have been fortunate enough to be born as the heirs to the wine tycoon business run by your families. The vineyards are flourishing and the company has been passed down from one generation to the next for decades.

Your families have been handling the business matters side by side, fighting back against any adversities. Like a hand in glove, with the core principles being mutual respect and sincerity, the successful partnership has always made their chests swell with pride.

Ever since you were small children, your parents have made it a point to time and time again remind you of the importance of the family business and the well-fortified trust between your ancestors. You had to attend extra lessons, read lots of books or meet other wine specialists to gather the necessary knowledge to take over the wine empire.

The time has finally come and your parents have deemed both of you ready to be in charge of the family-run business.

The hitch is, though, that you and Diluc are far from being happy to share the ownership of the world-famous winery. But, it wasn’t always the case. In the past, one could say that you were perhaps too inseparable, leaving Diluc’s step-brother behind. However, as time went by, the connection was gradually lost and now it only remains a bitter-sweet memory.

Diluc, for reasons known only to himself, finds you unfit for the task of being a co-owner of the company. He despises the idea of running the business together with you and bluntly criticises you in front of your family members.

Nevertheless, your parents have already settled on a plan of action, giving you an ultimatum to mend the fences and prove to them that you’re worthy of inheriting the winery tycoon.

„You have a month to end this childish nonsense.”

Diluc’s father informs adjusting the knot in his tie. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Diluc’s pouty face. He looks stiffened like a wooden wine rack and that mental connotation alone sends you into a fit of stifled giggles. Diluc’s eyes express a mix of annoyance and repulsion once he reluctantly peers at you from the opposite side of the coffee table.

„I’m sorry, ahem,” you clear your throat and straighten up in your armchair, mirroring Diluc’s weird position. His face contorts in a fake smile, which you immediately reciprocate, causing his eyes to narrow.

„Erm…, I was saying,” Diluc’s father refocuses your attention back to him, „You need to somehow learn to co-operate. I’m thoroughly sick and tired of your antics. I’ve already spoken to Kaeya. Should you fail to come to your senses, he’ll be the one inheriting the majority of shares.” He informs, taking a sip of the coffee in his hand.

Diluc looks ready to rise to his feet, however, he composes himself and digs his nails into the armrest, turning to his father.

„I thought he said he wasn’t interested in anything that has to do with the company. Apart from plundering our wine barrels for free, that is.”

„He was thoughtful enough to change his mind per my request.”

Diluc snickers, „Oh, how considerate.”

„It’s your last warning. Screw this up and you’ll be forever stuck as Kaeya’s personal assistants.” He announces, grimacing at the bitter taste of the beverage. „You could perhaps start with buying a new coffee machine. It tastes like dog’s piss.” He reluctantly lifts himself from the armchair and saunters to the door.

„It’s your coffee machine, Dad,” Diluc observes in a huff.

But, his father’s already marched out of the office, leaving you two alone. The ticking of the clock is the only sound that breaks the stillness of the room. Your fingers start impatiently drumming on the armrest. Diluc’s eyes zero in on you.

„What? Why are you looking at me like this? Don’t tell me it’s my fault.” You gasp, feigning offence.

„Remind me of the time when it actually wasn’t.”

You roll your eyes and decide to remove yourself from his view before he throws another tantrum.

And so, the co-operation thing has kicked off pretty fast. Albeit, it is still quite rough around the edges.

For the sake of his sanity, Diluc suggests that you should reside in a separate office and reduce your daily interaction to an absolute minimum. He tells you to compose a list of matters that require both your and his attention, which you will later discuss once you’ve agreed on a date of a meeting. He informs you about all of that in an e-mail. He is kind enough to notify you that if, for some reason, you happen to have some doubts his secretary will be ready to answer your questions.

The first days he avoids you like a plaque, hoping that things will somehow blow over if he only stays out of your way and continues doing his job.

He thinks he doesn’t need your help and can single-handedly deal with the paperwork and the meetings.

„Hey, Luc!” You barge into his office unannounced.

„Haven’t you read my e-mail?” He asks, eyes still scanning the documents on his desk. „Also, don’t call me this way.”

„Ah, yes, about that,” you sink into the chair vis-a-vis the red-head, „Look, if we are like up to our necks in this deep shit, courtesy of our parents, we might as well try to get along?” A smile dangles on the corner of your lips.

„No.” Eyes still flicking through the paperwork

„Oh, but why?” You whine, disappointed but not surprised.

„You’re insufferable. Just like the mistake of my brother.”

You chuckle, fingertips prying the piece of paper from his hand and flipping it over.

„I believe it’s meant to be read this way, Luc. Unless you’re mastering the skill of reading upside-down.”

„Get out.” He growls at you, a flush of embarrassment creeping over his cheeks.

„Uh-oh, touchy.”

Once he’s forced you out, basically by grabbing your shoulder and shoving you out the door, he lets out a long and slow exhale. Crankily, he walks up to the desk to reach for his phone and, dials his secretary. Surely, a glass of grape juice will soothe his shattered nerves.

„Mr Ragnvindr?” The surprise in his secretary’s voice throws him off balance but he doesn’t dwell on the matter too much.

„I would like a glass of grape juice, please. I’m in my office.”

„I’m afraid that’s impossible, Mr Ragnvindr.” She answers apologetically.

„W-what do you mean impossible?” He tries to remain polite but fails miserably.

„I was told to take month-long holiday leave. Mr/Mrs Y/N has personally called me to inform me about that.” The secretary appears to be distressed, her breathing ragged as she continues hurriedly, „I don’t understand, Mr Ragnvindr, is something wr–,”

Diluc hangs up. He storms out of the office with murderous intent in his eyes but you’re nowhere to be found.

Diluc, try as he might, can’t make you listen to him. He accuses you of being uncooperative, deliberately distracting him from work and; therefore, endangering the well-being of the company.

Each morning, you begin your day by popping into his office with a cup of coffee and some sweet treat for the grumpy redhead. He tells you he is not hungry but the snack disappears quicker than yours.

„I can’t believe I got stuck with the most unprofessional candidate for a business partner that has ever walked this planet.”

He complains, eyeing the spurt of jelly that has leaked out of your doughnut and landed on top of the documents stacked on his desk.

„W-what? I can’t believe I got stuck with such a stiff-ass like you.”

You awkwardly scoop up the sticky jam with your finger and insert it in your mouth to lick it clean. Diluc’s gaze follows your finger and you don’t know if the man looks more grossed out or just irritated. Probably both.

„Hey, you take it back, right now.” He warns, not amused by your insult in the slightest.

Your shoulders shake uncontrollably when the merry chuckle takes over your whole being.

„I can still help you get that stick out of your ass. You might feel so much better, trust me.” You offer, shoving the last piece of the dessert into your mouth.

Diluc can’t stop gawking at how your tongue dances over the surface of your fingertips. He feels it’s getting hotter in the office when your mouth sucks on the greasy from icing thumb.

„You’re absolutely disgusting.”

One day you and Diluc have to host your first company meeting with the potential contractor. However, Diluc does you dirty and doesn’t inform you about the date of the session. Unluckily, he can’t seem to reach an agreement with the guy and the whole deal is on its way to hit a massive flop. Diluc knows he can’t let that happen. He would rather dig a hole for himself than disappoint his family by fucking things up ab initio. So, reluctantly, he calls you to his office.

„Listen, I might have not told you about the meeting with our client.” He confesses, arms crossed on his chest as a crease appears on his forehead.

„Wooahh, hold on here, Luc. You did what?” You snarl at him, walking behind his desk to swivel his chair to make him face you.

„Don’t be overly dramatic.”

He breathes out in annoyance, trying not to be affected by the sweet fragrance of your perfume attacking his senses. Although, quite frankly, he would much prefer inhaling in your natural scent. Like he did, when you were teenagers and he was tickling you with your body crushed under him.

„Tell me, you fucked it all up, didn’t you?”

Your accusation interrupts his recollection of you countlessly begging him to stop digging his fingers under your ribs. He glances up to the ceiling, reluctant to admit to the bitter truth.

„Fuck, I knew it.”

You pull the chair closer to you, your knees bumping into his.

„And now, you want me to save your sorry ass?”

You express your amusement by puckering up your lips and cocking an eyebrow at the irked man.

„Don’t get ahead of yourself, Y/N.”

His eyes drop to your lips and he briefly contemplates whether kissing you wouldn’t be the easiest way to shut you up.

„I’m getting tired just by listening to you.”

He leans in, just a little bit, but you see right through his internal conflict. You smile seductively, further sealing the gap between you and him.

But then, the door to the office swings open and Kaeya waltz inside with a cheeky smirk on his smug face. Diluc immediately pushes you away, awkwardly grabbing the files splayed on the desk.

„Oh, am I interrupting some closed-door session, by any chance?”

He sing-songs, loving the red blush on his brother’s cheeks.

„What do you want? Spit it out.” Diluc barks at him.

„Well, I’m here to pick up your lovely business partner. He/she promised to indulge me with her/his presence for a drink or two.”

Kaeya nonchalantly puts his hands into the pockets while fixing his blue eyes on you.

„No way I’m going to let you bore Y/N to death with all of that paperwork.”

Diluc is about to say something but you know it’s high time you ended that cock-fight before it gets out of hand.

„Fine, coming. I just need to grab some stuff from my office.”

You yank Kaeya’s sleeve and drag him out of the tension zone.

„Next time learn to fucking knock, Kaeya!” You hear Diluc’s hollering after you.

The evening is pleasantly relaxing. Kaeya’s subtle innuendos and witty jokes make your eyes water and your stomach cramps due to all that giggles. You’ve drunk more than you planned and the world around you is a bit blurry. You can hardly hear the ringing of your phone through Kaeya’s melodious voice and it is all too difficult to answer it with your gummy fingers.

„Yes, Cutie?” You greet innocently.

„Just how drunk are you? Tomorrow we have the meeting with the contractor.”

Diluc sounds positively pissed off. That much you can tell despite your intoxicated state.

„Dunno. Hey, Kaeya! Stop stealing my drink, you assh-,” Diluc has had enough and cuts the conversation short.

No more than half an hour later, he arrives at the usual spot of your drinking escapades. He tugs at your shoulder, dragging you off the barstool.

„What the fuck d-do you think you ar–,” you stumble over your words as everything spins in front of your eyes.

Diluc wraps his arm around your middle and begins marching in the direction of the exit.

„The party is over.” He announces grumpily, tightening the grip on you.

„See you later, Sweetheart!”

Kaeya’s farewell is the last thing that your drunk brain manages to register before you are pushed into the front seat of Diluc’s car. He bends down to fasten your seatbelt and the red strands tickle your face.

„Luc, your hair is so fucking beautiful, you know?”

You whisper, slowly falling into the arms of Morpheus. Your eyelids feel too heavy to keep them open, although, the breathtaking view of Diluc’s scarlet red eyes is so worth the struggle.

„You and Kaeya are a disgrace to my and your family.”

He insults, but the finger brushing the unruly hair from your forehead leaves a warm smile on your face. You’re asleep within seconds.

He slams the door and proceeds to sit behind the wheel. When he sheepishly peers at your sleeping, helpless figure, he feels this awful twisting sensation in his stomach. He sighs. It brings back more memories from the past. Like when you asked him if he had already found a date for the prom party.

„The prom? Why would I even bother with it?”

Diluc blurted out without much thinking. The way your face sank made him want to kick himself in the guts for his stupidity.

„Yeah, I guess you’re right.” You said, eyes looking away.

Just when he was about to maybe somehow fix things, Kaeya appeared out of nowhere. His hands protectively squeezed on your shoulders.

„Well, then I suppose we are going to have fun without this old geezer.” Kaeya beamed, rescuing you from the awkwardness of that situation.

Diluc frowns at the mental image of you sulkily turning on your heel and following Kaeya to the lecture hall. He starts the engine and unhurriedly drives you home. Every now and then he checks up on you, magnetically pulled by the beauty of your sleeping face. At some point, he pulls over to take off his jacket to cover your cold to the touch body.

The next day, when you barge into the conference room Diluc is already sitting at the long-ass round table. He sizes you up from head to toes and gives you a lopsided grin.

„You look like hell.” He observes unceremoniously.

„Thank you. I actually feel like I’m coming back from there.”

You sink to the chair next to Diluc and gulp down his glass of water.

„Remind me not to drink with your brother ever again.”

Diluc snickers and his gaze wanders to your exposed chest. His mood drops like a falling stone.

„Button up. It’s not a fucking brothel but a respectable establishment.” He snarks at you, unimpressed.

Your eyebrows raise at his choice of words. Out of spite, you quickly pop one more button, challenging him with your triumphant gaze.

Pissed off beyond reason, he moves closer to you and yanks your white shirt, nearly making you topple over. Your hands land on his toned thighs as you prevent yourself from falling. He fumbles with the buttons, brushing over the bare skin.

„Ahem.”

The contractor clears his throat, weirdly gawking at you and Diluc. You snatch Diluc’s arms away and raise to your feet, extending your hand towards the dumbfounded man.

„Oh, please welcome.”

You put on one of your best smiles. The one that always makes men feel weak in their knees. Diluc looks heavenward, already sensing where this whole thing is going. Fingers massaging his temples, suddenly feeling the tension of an upcoming headache.

By the end of the meeting, the contractor has, without a doubt, turned into putty in your hand. You leered him in, coquettishly batting your eyelashes and laughing at his lame jokes. You’ve even managed to get yourself invited to a charity meeting where you’d talk through the final details of the deal, sipping a glass of overpriced champagne. Diluc didn’t utter a single word throughout this cheap show.

„I don’t understand how you managed to screw this shit up. The man is an idiot.” You confess, adjusting the sleeves of your shirt.

„I don’t know, maybe I didn’t look like I was going to jump to his bed?” He counters through gritted teeth.

You shrug him off, waving your hand dismissively as you leave his office.

When the day of the charity event finally comes, Diluc can’t get rid of these nasty thoughts nestling in his head. He has a sick feeling about what is about to happen tonight, especially when he sees you all dolled up and looking as if you were attending your own wedding. He despises this guy. There are no words that could adequately express how revolting his bold behaviour is for Diluc. The worst thing is that you willingly choose to entertain him, despite Diluc’s strong disapproval.

„Do you want to make this deal?

You eye him in the limo on your way to the hotel in which this grand event is taking place. Diluc doesn’t give you even the faintest of reactions that could be interpreted as an answer to this question.

„Our parents certainly do; so please, be so kind and stay out of it. You’ve already messed up once. Now it’s my turn.”

„I’m warning you, Y/N.” He says as his scarlet orbs menacingly stare into yours.

Frankly speaking, the contractor looks as bothered by Diluc’s presence as the red-head who keeps throwing daggers in the guy’s direction. Both of them are stiff and it’s slowly driving you crazy. Not only can’t you enjoy the evening as you hoped you would, but also the negotiations of the deal hit a dead end. After the conversation has undeniably gone south, you announce that you’d like to go for a short sightseeing tour around the premises of the hotel.

„Oh, naturally. Be my guest. I’d be happy to show you around my humble abode.”

The contractor shoots Diluc a celebratory glare and the redhead’s forehead furrows. Diluc feels that he is fighting a war with himself, one that he is doomed to lose. Like in some type of a cheap soap opera, he sneakily tags along after you. He tells himself it’s just because he doesn’t trust the guy and if anything bad happened to you, he would be responsible for that.

However, when he, with his very own eyes, gapes at how you flirtatiously whisper something against the man’s earlobe with your hands running down his chest he feels that he might be hallucinating. All blood drains from his face as the man smiles back devilishly, and leads you to the room behind you. Diluc’s legs move on their own, each step more urgent than the previous one, but alas, the door is shut and you disappear from his sight.

Quick as lightning, Diluc is at the door, straining his ears to pick up on anything that is happening in the room. He hears you giggle. The high-pitch tone of your voice accelerates his already racing heartbeat. And then, it goes silent. He freaks out twice as much.

Why aren’t you talking? You’re there to talk about the deal, right?

He practically merges with the door, wishing he could burn through it with his eyes. It’s pure agony. It stretches like a string that does not want to break. Diluc feels himself getting sweaty and nervously works on the buttons of his shirt. Muscles start cramping due to his unnatural position, glued to the door as if he was an insect trapped by a flypaper.

And then, he hears you moan. But, a moan so obscene and lewd it cannot be mistaken for anything other than what it really is. The guy made you moan and he is touching you. Diluc almost drops to his knees. The weight of this dreadful realisation leaves him depleted, paralysed in each part of his body. Unknowingly, his hands rush into his hair. He tugs and pulls at the red strands, stiff as a board. The moans grow in intensity.

Diluc comes apart at the seams, pulling away from the door. He no longer knows whether he wants to hear more of these sounds. He should be the one making you feel this way. But, it’s only when he hears the way you cry out his name, yes his name, despite being touched by this disgusting leech, does he go haywire and barges into the room.

The door flies open, scaring the shit out of the contractor who’s been as busy as a bee kissing your bare chest. He abruptly ceases his actions, leaving you half-naked with your back flush against the wall.

Diluc looks flipping mad. His dishevelled hair and bruised from biting on them lips make you want to cum on the spot. You’re thrilled. Fucking ecstatic just from imagining the hell he’s been through eaves-dropping behind the door.

The guy doesn’t even say anything about the fact that you’ve moaned somebody else’s name and in sheer terror flees out of the room, nearly stumbling over himself in the process. It looks pathetic. Probably you would be tempted to laugh out loud if not for Diluc’s murderous gaze. Within seconds the man is at the door, bypassing Diluc in a safe distance while awkwardly attempting to put his trousers back on.

Diluc slams the door behind him and the sound of the turning key in the lock makes your belly twist in excitement. He walks up to you unhurriedly and watches as you eagerly hop on the bed. Diluc unbuckles the belt, letting it hang loose on each side of his hips. It makes this clinking noise whenever he takes a step towards the bed. The view of his lower abdomen is absolutely mouth-watering. You can already see the contour of his hard dick, squeezed by the elegant slacks. You lick your lips, gazing upwards to find his red eyes.

„Now, you’ve really done it, eh?” You nod, squirming like a dog in heat before the seething with rage Diluc.

„You want me to fuck the living shit out of your slutty hole, don’t you?” Diluc states, rather than asks placing his knees on the edge of the bed.

„Yes, y-yes!” You keen, discarding the last item of your clothes somewhere on the floor.

Diluc hastily removes his shirt. Your greedy hands tug at the waistband of the trousers. You push them down, to his knees and his thick thighs steal your attention. He snatches your chin and forces you to look him in the eyes. The red eyes are like dark scarlet pools filled with immeasurable depth. You could willingly drown in them and never come back for air.

He towers over you with his breath dancing over your lips. He’s never dared to be this close to you. The years of suspense and withdrawal, the number of times he’s told himself he couldn’t have you and all these uncertainties have dissipated into nothingness, like dandelion seeds being blown away by the wind. He’s about to kiss you and nothing will change that.

He leans in, slightly moving his head to the side. Your stomach is fluttering. The sensation is so strong as if someone was tickling your insides. Deep longing and passion glow in Dliuc’s eyes. All of your senses are invaded by his presence.

„Fucking kiss me you idi—,”

The insult is swallowed by his lips. Your thoughts are silenced by his taste. Transfixed, you keep letting him dominate you, with his tongue seeking yours in a staggering surge of adrenaline. Blood rushes to Diluc’s cheeks. His strong hand nestles in your hair, guiding you into the kiss. Your lips sink in a perfect fit. The fit that was always meant to be. Unlocking his lips from you, he feels himself being taken away by his instinct. He’s never wanted anyone so much.

„Lie down on my lap.”

Demanding, he pulls you by your shoulder. The need in him, this yearning for your body is almost… violent. He knows he shouldn’t, but he won’t stop. A small whimper of surprise escapes your lips. Your ass up in the air, as you’re bent over his thighs. Diluc’s hand tenderly strokes the skin. His scorching hot fingers dig into your ass cheeks, leaving him bewitched. He marvels at the red patches painted by his very own hands.

When the first slap lands on your sensitive skin, he knows he is no longer in control of himself. You wail, unprepared. Hips bucking forward in a weak attempt to escape the pain. The second slap comes sooner than you thought it would. Once again, your body shrinks, hands desperately clutching Diluc’s thighs. Another cry and his dick twitches, the untamed arousal subdues Diluc’s coherency. He is hell-bent on engraving himself deep inside of you so that you won’t seep through his fingers ever again. It’s incredibly erotic how you pathetically writhe underneath his punishing hand. He thinks he will never get enough of it.

A slap after a slap. Your ass bounces back on impact, red and deliciously puffy.

„D-diluc, please-ahh!”

His name on your lips stripes him of any decency left. Diluc’s long shaft presses against your belly. It’s slick with precum, smudging the sticky bodily fluid all over your nakedness.

„I won’t. I won’t unless you admit that you belong to me.”

He stills for a moment. His hand starts lovingly massaging the tender flesh. He gives you some time to mull over his words.

„You sure took your sweet time figuring it out yourself.”

Diluc chuckles, amused by your mockery.

„You think you’re so smart, eh? I’m gonna fuck that cheeky attitude out of you.”

Always true to his words, Diluc spits on his hand. He teasingly traces the crack between your cheeks with his wet digit. He goes up and down, gently probing against your entrance with the very tip of his finger. You bite your lip, feeling the cold shiver creeping up your spine.

„The lube, the lube is in my p-pocket.” You instruct him, through gritted teeth.

„Tsk. You can’t be fucking serious.”

He shouldn’t be shocked. He’s known you long enough to get used to your brattiness, but still, the fact that you’ve intentionally taken the lube with you means that you had at least thought likely of this grand finale to ensue. Diluc swiftly retrieves the object from the pocket of your garment and pours a generous amount of the substance into his palm.

„Spread yourself for me.”

Wordlessly, your hands obey his wish, going behind your back to part your ass cheeks. Diluc hums, sneaking a peek at your flushed face. For the first time, he doesn’t feel overcome with the shyness that usually disarms him when you are around. He has the upper hand.

The soft but cold finger pushes through your opening, going through the sensitive nerves of your walls. Your body stiffens in anticipation of some pain but it doesn’t happen. Diluc delves in deeper, wringing out a moan from your lips, the one he’s so desperate to hear on a loop. He begins pumping it in and out, foraging your hole to reach that spot.

The finger slides in with ease and Diluc is hungry for more. He withdraws his hand for a brief second, making you wail at the loss of this delicious sting, stretching you apart. He groans, his cock continuously reminding him how much he needs to bury himself inside of you. In a frenzy, he presses his two digits together and thrust them back into your sex, fully.

‘F-fuck!”

Your scream, your ass shamelessly pushing back into his hand and the way your back arches leave him stunned. Diluc exhales laboriously, feeling attacked by each of your broken whines. Your body shudders once Diluc’s other hand pulls your hair. Fingers slip out of your dripping hole when he forces you to straighten up. He manhandles you to have you spread for him on your back. Your head bounces when it abruptly hits the mattress. His eyes look clouded with lust.

„Say it.”

He orders. He cuffs your hands above your head while lowering himself between your legs

„W-what?”

Your hips moving forward to urge him to claim you. You don’t want gentleness. Not after so many years of waiting. He hooks your leg around his middle, the swollen tip of his cock already nudging your entrance.

„I won’t budge unless you say that loud and clear.”

You can see that he is in pain, tormented by the uncontrollable surge of passion gnawing at his sanity. He presses his forehead to yours, breathless. His throbbing cock tickles your tender hole.

„I love you.”

No longer caged by his doubt, Diluc seizes your lips with his, entering you with his thick shaft. Your walls push him back, not used to the girth of his cock. You cry out into the kiss, feeling how Diluc’s body trembles as he attempts to bury himself deeper into you. Inch by agonising inch, he makes his way through, making you moan and plead. He is equally devastated. Diluc fights his own battle, not wanting to spill before he bottoms out.

„You, f-fuckk-, f-feel so good around me, Love ahh—,” he praises, causing your stomach to twist and turn.

Your heart skips a beat. Diluc’s fingers dig into your wrist the moment he finally buries himself to the hilt, with his balls pressed to your ass. Swept by the staggering tightness, Diluc’s body is ablaze.

You move first, inviting him to ravage your sex with his twitching dick. He groans, eyes shut and veins popping. The man on top of you is shattering like a delicate piece of china. With a shaky breath falling from his lips, Diluc pulls out. The entire length of his cock leaves you, slowly moving along your walls. You choke on your sob. He stills to prepare himself, only to ram back in with full force, lashing on your sweet spot. He hits it dead on, making you cry out loud enough for others to hear you.

„There, there, there!” You beg, forcing him with your legs to go back inside.

So he does, plunging in and out, each time assaulting your g-spot. He steals air from you with each violent snap of his hips. He is vocal himself, growling low in his throat whenever your walls wantonly squeeze around him.

„Wanna cum, Luc, p-please!”

You break first, rushing him to release together with you. Not that he minds, he’s already walking on thin ice, ready to let all that tension go. He’s denied himself this orgasm since forever and now it’s like a time bomb, ready to explode any time soon.

„Na-ahh, h-hold me.”

He releases your wrists and your arms immediately wrap around him, cocooning him in the safety of your own little world. Diluc’s heart swells in his chest. He is so disgustingly infatuated with you it scares him. He cries out your name, and with the final jerk of his hips, your bodies plunge into the ocean of tingling ecstasy. It takes over you, hard and long. Feels like everything and nothing at the same time. Diluc collapses on top of you, gasping for breath. You keep protecting his trembling body in your loving arms. He props himself on his elbows and his scarlet eyes shyly seek yours.

„L-love you too.” He mutters under his breath.

You cup his cheeks with your hands, smiling brighter than ever.

Other boys:

Kazuha - gardener

Childe - swimming instructor

Zhongli - history professor

Other series:

Thigh job with Genshin boys

Going out on a date with Genshin boys

#diluc x reader #diluc reader #diluc smut #diluc headcanons #diluc genshin impact #diluc drabbles #diluc scenarios #genshin impact #geshin smut #diluc x you #diluc you #genshin headcanons #genshin smut #genshin scenarios #genshin drabbles #genshin imagines

919 notes · View notes

kazewhara · 3 years

Note

i literally just discovered your blog ehe- anyways, if it’s okay with you, could i ask for some familial headcanons for diluc and jean fussing over a (fem) younger sister reader after she catches a cold please? tysm!

a spoonful of sugar.

# — characters: feminine reader (she/they pronouns), jean, barbara, diluc, kaeya, adelinde, crepus ragnvindr

# — summary: “our siblings push buttons that cast us in roles we felt sure we had let go of long ago – the baby, the peacekeeper, the caretaker, the avoider…it doesn’t seem to matter how much time has elapsed or how far we’ve traveled.” – jane mersky leder

# — warnings: n/a

# — tags: hc format, slight canon divergence, diluc angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, familiar relationships, found family, reader is younger than jean but older than barbara

# — notes: ahh, i feel like this is mostly me projecting, since i'm the eldest sibling myself.. man, i wonder what my little siblings think of me, lmao. but! like always, reblogs and reactions are always appreciated, and i hope you enjoy!

(NEW!) # — tag list: @marius-z @eternalvvs

(want to join the tag list?)

✧ — 𝐝𝐢𝐥𝐮𝐜 — ✧

something that you and your brother have in common is your tough exterior, meaning it would take diluc a while to know that you're sick

hell, you probably wouldn't even know. you both have pyro visions, so you both run warm regardless of if you're sick or not

you go a pretty long time without showing any signs of being sick, so when you pass out while doing some simple paperwork in place of your brother, it comes as a shock to him

i also want to preface this by saying that you and diluc aren't close

you were too young to understand the issue with kaeya.

all you know is that one day you had a father and two doting brothers, and the next day, you were down to one brother who wouldn't so much as look in your direction for a few years.

to be honest, you didn't like diluc very much for a while. he's got a very avoidant method of caring for you, and you hate it

at some point in your life, you desperately tried to get his attention, but as you got older, you just.. stopped.

these days, you don't feel much of anything for him. it's kind of a negative feeling, but if he's not around, you don't care at all. out of sight, out of mind.

diluc's no idiot, by the way. he knows you stopped trying to be around him and he feels guilty, but in his eyes, there's more important things than trying to mend a relationship that's been broken for ages.

he cares very deeply about you -- loves you, even -- but he's not going to go out his way to eat dinner with you or anything like that. he spoils you from a distance, sending you gifts and providing you with things you want and need, but that's it.

in short, the famous ragnvindr siblings aren't the dynamic duo everyone thinks they are. the only person who knows this is kaeya.

(side note: you get along very well with kaeya. he's assumed the big brother role very well in diluc's place, but he'll never rub it in.)

(but rest assured that diluc is very, very bitter about the fact that the man who betrayed him and his family has a better relationship with his sister than he does.)

(will he fix it? no.)

(you and kaeya may have opposing visions, but in truth, you two have more chemistry than anybody else in mondstadt.)

okay! onto to the sickness.

diluc finds out that you've passed out while working a shift at the tavern.

one of the workers from the dawn winery came barging through the door, breathless, and the only thing he could say was:

"it's your sister."

diluc, stubborn as he is, doesn't wait for an explanation. he just closes the tavern right then and there and tries to get home as fast as he could.

diluc barges into your room unannounced, his fiery hair messy and his eyes as wide as saucers. you're laying immobile in your dark room, and you groan when the light from the hallway hits your face. "adelinde, you just gave me medicine," you rasp, your voice deeper and scratchier than it should be. "can i please just sleep--?"

"you're alive."

diluc normally has far more tact -- he would never do something as undignified as burst into someone's room -- into your room -- without apologizing first. but the only thing he could think of as he sprinted here was his father.

crepus' death was sudden and devastating. there was no slow build-up, no time to mentally prepare for a period of grief; diluc had to sit there and watch as life bled out of your father's eyes. he blamed himself for years -- cursed his paltry strength for not being enough to fight for himself. even if he was the youngest cavalry captain, it still wasn't enough. so when he got word that something had happened to you, diluc did something he hadn't done in years.

he panicked.

because he's strong enough now. diluc dedicated his life to having enough strength to defend mondstadt from the abyss order from the shadows -- to defend you from the shadows. if you had died, he felt as though your blood would be on his hands. how could he have obtained all this strength for his home -- for his sister -- and still manage to fail?

never in his life, not since his father's untimely death, has diluc felt as many emotions as he did on his way home to see you. you would have died alone, and it would have been his fault. he has so many regrets when it comes to you, and he never would have been able to try to make it up to you.

so when diluc sees you alive and well (relatively speaking), he drops to his knees.

you, unaware of your brother's internal strife, push yourself up to a sitting position with difficulty and frown at him. "what are you talking about?" your frown deepens. "and why are you kneeling? get up; you look pathetic."

diluc can't help but chuckle. fair enough, he decides. it's fair that you would still hold animosity towards him after all this time. he brought this on himself, after all. and he agrees -- he does look pretty pathetic. the great diluc ragnvindr, once the youngest cavalry captain in mondstadt's history and the owner of the renowned dawn winery was here, on his knees, thanking an archon he didn't care for because you were still alive.

"are you going to get up and answer my question, or are you going to stay there like a crazy person?" you ask. you break into a fit of rattling coughs. for a second, panic starts to bubble over again in diluc's chest, but it's reduced to a simmer once you talk again. "the light is straining my eyes and i want to lay down. if you're gonna stay in here, then close the door."

you were going to allow him to stay? really? diluc makes up his mind faster than he anticipated, rising to his feet and shutting the door per your request. it's almost pitch black in here due to it being late at night and your curtains being drawn. he hesitates for a moment (can you believe it? him, hesitating.) before pulling up a chair at your beside and sitting on it.

neither of you say a word. what were you supposed to say? why was he even here? the silence is so loud it makes diluc's ears ring. he has to say something to you, right? at the very least, he should explain why he's here. but his curiosity starts to burn, and--

"why are you here?"

oh, so you were going to lead this conversation. he can live with that. diluc crosses his arms instinctively. "am i not allowed to visit my sick sister?" he retorts. it comes across much harsher than it should, but he's only matching your tone. plus, he's not sure how to talk to you anymore. the last time he spoke to you, you were but a little girl who just wanted to run through the vineyard and catch crystalflies with her brother.

a fleeting thought crosses diluc's mind. do you still like crystalflies?

you speak again, cutting his thoughts short. "you haven't looked me in the face in years. i have every right to question your presence."

"we're family." diluc squints at you in the darkness. you sort of look like your mother, though he himself can't remember what she looks like anymore. if he had to guess, you're probably a carbon copy of her.

"oh, now you think we're family." you scoff. you wheeze for a moment before breaking into another fit of harsh coughs. you sniff and groan before laying down slowly.

diluc starts to reach out to help you, but catches himself. what was he even about to do? he has no idea how to handle a sick person, especially since that sick person is you. but he can't ignore the familiar sensation of brotherly protectiveness that flares up when he sees you struggling. your words cut deep -- deeper than he ever thought they would.

"i've always thought we were family." he says. he sighs through his nose and cuts the topic short. you're in no position to have this conversation right now. "did the doctor come and diagnose you yet? your cough sounds terrible."

you turn over on your side, your back facing your brother. "yes." your answer is short.

diluc wonders if things would be different if he never avoided you. "and what did they say?"

"why do you care? you're not the one nursing me back to health." you cough again.

"i am, actually." he blurts.

he has no idea where that came from. he's never spoken so abruptly so quickly -- the words didn't even feel like they came from his mouth, but he doesn't feel the need to take them back. he's more than willing to learn how to care for you, and if he can fix your relationship while he does it...

diluc blinks a few times at the realization. that's why he's sitting here, tolerating your snappy attitude.

he just wants to be a family again.

you shoot upwards and face him. diluc can't see your expression well, but he can feel the sting of your glare. your frame wobbles a bit in the darkness -- probably vertigo -- before you speak. "i didn't ask you to do that. don't even think about taking the doctor's place."

diluc clicks his tongue. "i'll do as i please. now, lay back down." he stands and makes his way to the door. he cracks it open, ignoring your furious calls of his name. he turns back to look at you, his body silhouetted by the hallway light. "sleep," he instructs you gently. "i'll be back in the morning."

and like that, he's gone, leaving you alone in the pitch darkness of your room.

so! how does he care for you, exactly?

well, first of all, your cold isn't just a cold. after a few days of diluc trying to nurse you, you both come to the realization that you actually have the flu -- and a very severe one at that.

won't get into the details, but it's disgusting and humiliating, as you can imagine

but... diluc doesn't give up. he sticks to his word and nurses you the entire time, coming to you morning, noon, and night to check on you and administer your medicine

the only reason it takes so long for you to recover is because you adamantly refuse to cooperate with your brother

it's childish and infuriating, but diluc is weirdly endeared by your behavior. he thinks it's cute!

once you give in and start doing as your told, you become compliant and almost amiable as the days pass

you don't ignore diluc's (terrible) attempts at conversation, and the two of you actually.. bond.

but as you two get closer and your relationship improves, you start to notice that diluc is kinda... overprotective.

once you can finally stand on two feet without falling over from dizziness, you've been walking about the hallways at any given opportunity.

your fever has yet to break, but you're still active, and diluc doesn't like it

"put me down!" you flail about in your brother's arms, weakly kicking about to get him to give up. "hey! are you listening?!"

diluc sighs and stops walking. "who raised you to be such a brat?"

"excuse me?!" you stop moving and scowl up at him. "put me down right now, or i swear to barbatos, i'll--"

diluc raises a brow at you. "what, will you try and fight me? i assure you, you will lose. now quit struggling. you're burning up."

the fight seeps out of you pretty quickly. you realize that you're just being stubborn, and that he's right, but...

"i'm not a child. i can walk." you grumble.

"on the contrary," diluc chuckles, "you weren't walking in a straight line. you reminded me of the patrons down at the tavern. you need more time to recover."

only now do you feel the heat in your face. "shut up."

ugh, he's so doting it's almost sickening.

"don't eat this" or "chew and swallow" or "sleep for more than 8 hours"

"diluc, you're gonna crush me under all these blankets."

"oh hush, they're soft."

"uh," your eyes drift to the mountain of blankets on your bed, "i think fourteen blankets would be too much, though."

it's frustrating, but believe it or not, it works!

once you've recovered, a part of your relationship with your brother has as well.

you two aren't exactly joined at the hip, but you're on speaking terms -- enough to joke around and spar with each other from time to time.

and while diluc does still envy kaeya for being so close to you, he thinks that you may be the key to mending their relationship as well. <3

✧ — 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐧 — ✧

unlike jean and barbara, you aren't related to them by blood

you're actually just someone who was taken in by the knights of favonius at a very young age and grew alongside jean

the two of you trained under varka and share the same sentiments about protecting mondstadt.

while you and jean are the best swordsmen in monstadt, she prefers to be their shield, while you prefer to be their sword.

jean considers you to be her little sister!

not in place of barbara, but rather an additional sister

you two are as thick as thieves but unfortunately, that means you share the same work habits

so you both work non-stop to keep mondstadt orderly and safe, even to the point of exhaustion

and you, my friend, have hit your limit.

"lisa, get barbara, now!"

as you come to, you try to remember what happened in the past fifteen minutes.

you were walking with jean back to your shared office after a long, long day of checking in with the citizens of mondstadt. you remember thinking that fall must be approaching, since every breeze made goosebumps rise on your skin. only in the sunlight did you feel warm, but you didn't think much of it. there was also a strange pressure at the front of your face -- one that made you squint at everything. again, you thought nothing of it, since it was a sunny day.

back at headquarters, you faintly remember telling jean that you were freezing.

"really?" she asked, a confused frown marring her features. "but today is one of the hottest days of the year..."

and then... nothing. you're not sure why jean is helping you into a room to wait for barbara to show up.

an unexpected bout of nausea makes your squeeze your eyes shut. beside you, you can hear someone bouncing their leg rapidly. it has to be jean -- no other knight does that but her. you come to the conclusion that you must be sick; that would explain the chills and dizziness. you're upset that this will interefere with your work, but you're well aware that you won't be able to work properly unless you're feeling your best.

"i'm not dying, you know," you laugh weakly after hearing jean sigh for the fifth time in two minutes. "it's just a cold."

jean sighs. that's six times now. "i shouldn't have let this happen." she mutters. you crack your eyes open to see her worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. she has a lot of habits that no one but you knows she has -- mostly because they're born out of anxiety. "i should have noticed a long time ago that you were--"

"you're doing it again." you chide gently. you don't make any effort to look at her properly. one wrong move and you're afraid that you'll lose what little you have in your stomach. "it's been a decade, jean; how many times do i have to tell you to stop?"

jean gives you a look. "and how many times must i remind you that as your senior, it is my job to look after you?"

her sense of responsibility will surely be her undoing. it terrifies you; the last thing you want is for her to be in your position. she's right -- she's your older sister and in a way, she is responsible for you, but this was your fault -- not hers. you open your mouth to bicker with her, but barbara comes rushing in.

the deaconess sounds frantic. "what happened? is she okay?" she frets over you so much that you have to laugh. it comes out as a nasty cough, and it only serves to make barbara worry more. "oh, barbatos, this isn't good!"

"you two act as though i'm on my deathbed." you cough.

"don't even joke like that!" your sisters say in unison. your eyes are open enough to see them both flush a light pink at their exclamation, but neither of them look away from you.

jean clears her throat while barbara gets to work on healing you. "you of all people know better than to joke in such a manner."

"it's a superstition."

"a bad one." barbara murmurs beside you. you can feel her hydro on your body, but you don't feel any better than before. if anything, you feel worse. barbara seems to notice and quickly stops what she's doing. "i-i don't know what's wrong," she says to jean, "she's not getting any better, i--"

jean lays a hand on her sister's shoulder, offering her a kind smile. you can't help but feel a little bit of pride; they would never have acted like this a few years ago if you hadn't intervened. "you did what you could, barbara. thank you." she turns to you, grimacing when she sees the color draining from your face. "for now, i think we should let them warm up first. they're shivering too much."

your eyebrows twitch up. you didn't even realize you were shivering so hard -- your teeth are chattering, too.

"i-i'll really be okay." you mumble.

jean sighs. that's seven. "lying is technically a violation of the knight's oath."

"k-kaeya lies all the time!"

"that's different." jean lifts you into her arms and follows behind barbara. you cling to her desperately, trying to absorb her body heat for yourself. "you're far from okay." she whispers sadly. "i'm sorry."

jean undoubtedly will blame herself, no matter how much you tell her not to

she can't care for you herself due to your half of the tasks falling onto her, but during any down time she has, she's in your room by your bedside

barbara doesn't leave your side either; she tells the church that she'll be taking a break for a while, just so she can try to care for you

your sisters are out of their depth since elemental healing isn't working, so they both dedicate a lot of time to reading up on medicines that would help you.

"jean, wake up." you gently nudge your sister. she fell asleep along with you a few hours ago after giving you a medicine that would work in your sleep. faint dark circles formed under her eyes from how much time she was putting in to care for you.

"hm, what? oh!" jean shoots upright and presses the back of her hand to your forehead, feeling for a fever. her eyes are still half-lidded and you smile at her. "you don't feel very warm anymore," she says, her words broken by a yawn.

"at this rate, you'll be the one catching a cold. when's the last time you slept properly?" you ask. knowing her, she probably hasn't slept since you fell ill.

probably even longer that, knowing her.

"that's not very important right now." her tone is final. it's her 'grand master' voice; you don't know how she managed to wake herself up fast enough to use it, but she did, and you drop the topic. jean can be pretty scary when she wants to be. "what's important is your recovery. i think hydro healing should work soon."

you frown. "jean, why don't you go home for a while. get some rest." when she opens her mouth to protest, you put a hand out, covering it. "it's not like i'm going anywhere any time soon. go rest, okay?"

there's a brief staring contest between you two before jean gives up. "very well. i'll be back shortly." she says as she heads to the door.

"i hope not!" you call after her.

jean doesn't come back for like, 12 hours.

she was sleeping the entire time, according to barbara.

she comes back completely disheveled and apologetic, fretting over you to the point where she almost gets in the way of barbara doing her job, LOL

overall, jean's a TOTAL worry wart.

and, in the days that follow after your recovery, you find yourself sitting at a sneezing jean's bedside, laughing at her bright red nose.

✧ this kinda makes me wanna go build my jean... yeah i think imma do that, actually, LOL

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #platonic genshin x reader #platonic x reader #diluc ragnvindr #genshin diluc #diluc x reader #genshin jean #jean x reader #z anon #z scribbles #z box #JEAN PLEASE WAIT FOR ME I'LL BUILD YOU PROPERLY I SWEAR

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justanie · 2 years

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Vocaloid Confession:

I'm sick of Luka's famous Headcanons.

Don't get me wrong, it's not because of this that I hate those who have this Headcanon because, well, you can see the Vocaloids however you want.

But....how long will they continue with the same story that Luka is cold, anti-sentimental and for this reason she is seen as the boring one of the Vocaloids because of her so bitter attitude?

It's not a joke, there are literally very few people in this part of the Fandom who have other ways of seeing Luka, because most always go with the same thing: "She is serious, with a heart of stone, sarcastic, she feels ashamed for her colleagues just for being more energetic than her, blah, blah, blah" I understand that in a group of people there always has to be this kind of person, but please, don't just apply these stereotypes only to Luka, just because it happened on her first cover and principal most of her songs that talk about serious topics the idea that it would be her personality does not mean that all her Headcanons are the same thing?

An image and a song does not fully define a vocaloid, since anyone can see it however they want without secluding these two obvious points.

Is it so difficult...to be more original?

This was literally my first confession of this Fandom in Tumblr, please for those who love this Luka, do not be offended by my words, and take it as an idea that you can have more creativity with Luka and not always have to fall back on what same, because seeing the same Headcanon over and over again becomes tiring and even hateful.

#vocaloid #megurine luka #luka megurine #vocaloid confessions #unpopular opinion #vocaloid headcanon

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bangtangalicious · 3 years

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death valley (m)| part 12

summary: a summer internship at a famous record label turns wild with blurry nights of dangerous men, dirty money, and extremely hot sex. you soon get caught in a savage game of greed, power and obsession, only to find out that you are the grand prize

pairing: ot7 x f.reader smut ft: jungkook x reader, jin x reader

genre: smut. yandere. mystery. thriller. gang!au rockstar!au

wordcount: 7k

warnings: multiple & explicit smut scenes. buckle up. very rough sex, possessive & obsessive behaviors, yandere behaviors, penetrative sex, oral sex, emotional and slight physical abuse, manipulation, fighting. like fighting fighting., guns, shootings, aggressive gun play, spanking, slapping, hair pulling, spitting, leg...grinding?, choking, coersive sex, threats/blackmail, depictions of panic/fear, mourning, mentions of murder, jimin isnt dead so dw, crying, dacryphilia if you squint, so much dirty talk, degradation, praise, pet names, toxic relationships, mentions of torture (not described), one car chase, drug use, jealousy, use of the word “crazy”, dom!jin...yeah, dom!jungkook, jungkook goes hard on you tbh, lots of kissing, rockstar!namjoon is coming yall, reader is a baddie but also needy as fuck

It’s easy to take people you love for granted. Until they’re gone for good. Flashing on the television in front of you was a picture of Jimin, looking just beautiful. His hair slick with sweat. Low cut shirt hanging against his gorgeous body. Leather jacket snug over his shoulders. Unfortunately, the adjacent headline didn’t match.

Sources confirm that Park Jimin is no longer planning to continue with his tour for the time being. Fans can expect full refunds. Meanwhile the stock prices of his label took a big hit as…

Jimin was missing. You had assumed he walked away fine, but if Yoongi was here with you then perhaps…perhaps he killed him.

Your heart clenched at the realization that you may not ever see that bratty smile of his again. His teasing tone, his infuriating attitude. Those dreamy eyes, lush lips. His soft whispers and sweet smiles—you gasped. Desperately searching not for air, but an escape from your reality.

Shutting your eyes, you thought back to happier times. Moments lost amongst a large crowd— singing at the top of your lungs as Jimin’s fingers amazed you with the way they trailed effortlessly over his guitar. The way he’d catch your eyes at almost every show, sending a wink your way before flipping his sweat-ridden hair back, brows furrowed as he chased a high note. The night ending in your fading screams.

Screams that resembled those that left your parted lips when he would fuck you hard, like he did that one night backstage. When he would choke you, batter you with filthy words as he’d fill you up— always taking you raw. The only way he liked it. Then he’d kiss you softly, adoring every inch of you. Shower you with compliments, you were the most beautiful to him. He really loved you—hadn’t he. Your dream came true and you took it for granted. Guilt surged within you.

You jumped—the television suddenly snapping off. Yoongi paced up behind you, sliding his arms over your shoulders to place a soft kiss on your cheek. “Why are you watching that?” He hummed, peppering your face with love. His actions sweet, but his tone filled with bitterness. Within his hold you melted yet again, unable to forget the way the two of you made love the night before. Only for you to wake up feeling sick to the core in the arms of a monster.

“I can’t watch the news?” You deadpanned. “Oh…I can’t watch the news if JIMIN is on it?” Hissing, Yoongi gripped your throat, forcing your face to turn towards him. His eyes intense, seething. This only fueled your desire to taunt him further. You felt a sudden rush of boldness—how far would he go?

“What did I say about saying that name?” His words seemed to drag reluctantly through gritted teeth before piercing you in the heart. You held his gaze in a silent wrestle for power. Not wavering. Not blinking. Pushing one another to the limit. Curious to see who’d snap first. Finally he loosened his grip. “Sorry”

You shrugged him off, leaving the couch to distract yourself with his impressive assortment of fruits. Coming up behind you, he rested his cheek on your back, palms curling around your hips as he swayed you slightly. Ignoring his actions, you pulled out the kitchen knife, intending on slicing through an orange when he slid his hand over yours.

He twirled the knife with familiar ease, settling a tight grip on the handle. Thin metal sheathing through the rough, bright skin of the fruit, wet sounds of leaking juice as he continued to cut deeper. “Sleep well my love?” Your eyes fixated on the fruit, now halved, as Yoongi turned it over, cutting through it’s flesh once again.

Faintness overcame you, as you felt your consciousness diminishing with the quartered slices of fruit being cut one last time. Driving the edge of the knife into the core, before reaching his final, ideal piece. Your body began to shake—causing Yoongi to glance at you with concern.

“Here” He picked up a slice, pushing against your rigidly clamped teeth, forcing your mouth open to receive the fruit. He observed the way you bit down, the tart flavor exploding in your mouth, tantalizing you to ignore the acidic sour through an overwhelming sweetness.

Gulping it down, your nausea spread as words began to replay in your mind. You know who did it. Don’t fucking lie to yourself. Your breath escaped you as Yoongi pulled the fruit out of your mouth, swooping down to lick the juice off the edges of your parted lips. His tongue gliding its way into your mouth, exchanging a moment of affection.

“Did I scare you my love?” Yoongi whispered, hands trailing up and down your arms. “You know I didn’t mean to, hm?” He took a piece of the fruit, sucking on it nonchalantly before tossing it into the trash. You glanced at the door, wondering if there was any chance at all that you could make a run for it. “If you just follow my one rule, you know I’d never raise my voice at you right princess?” He sighed deeply, eyes flickering down your shirt where he suddenly felt an urge to take you there on the counter.

“Did you kill him?” Yoongi crooned his neck, trying to ensure he heard what you said. You shut your eyes, gripping the knife in front of you for comfort. “Did you kill…J-Jimin?” You ducked, anticipating Yoongi’s rage. To your surprise—he said nothing. Instead he looked at you with mused interest.

“And what if I did? What would you do hm?”

You gave him the nastiest look you could conjure. “Fuck. You.” Immediately, he covered your hand on the knife, yanking your hand up to press the blade against your cheek, letting the flat edge roll over your burning skin.

“Oh I will princess. Every single day.” Sliding the knife away, you hissed as a small cut appeared on your face. Luckily for you, a knock on the door came—or you were almost certain he could have killed you right there.

Namjoon stood timidly at the door. He looked over to you immediately, eyes widening with concern as he noticed the scar on your face.

Yoongi groaned in irritation, “Namjoon will take you to work and I’ll join you shortly” He watched as you begrudgingly followed the man out the door, as it close behind you Namjoon pulled you aside, tracing your cut with his finger.

“I sweat to god if he—“ Namjoon clenched his fist, ready to barge back inside and beat his boss senseless. You latched onto his muscular arm, shaking your head.

“It’s fine. I’m fine” He growled, but obeyed nevertheless. Grabbing your shoulders, he pinned you against the wall, slanting his lips onto yours. “N-not here” You gasped, pushing him away “He’ll kill you”

Namjoon sighed. He knew you were right. Something bitter ticked within him. Yoongi was turning out to be a pain the ass. He wasn’t about to stand by and let you get manipulated by some abusive man. Did you really love Yoongi? Namjoon had been convinced of it at the time, but he was starting to wonder. What happened that made you throw yourself at him the other night? Did you perhaps realize that you wanted someone else?

Someone…like him?

Hobi’s thumb slid rapidly against the screen of his new cellphone. Rolling his eyes, he tossed it aside, cursing under his breath. His inbox had been flooded ever since Jimin had gone silent, media eager to know his whereabouts.

He licked his lips, deep in thought as he tried to figure out his next move. Yoongi evidently wasn’t paying any mind to the fact his label was falling apart. He had intended on remaining loyal to Yoongi, even after finding out the truth, but Namjoon had managed to change his mind, showing him what an insane man he really was. Namjoon had pleaded Hobi to overtake the label from him, and in doing so ruin Jimin’s career, and jumpstart his own.

Hobi entertained the eager singer. Knowing that he was far too naive to actually pull through. Taehyung had approached him with a proposition shortly after and here he was, sitting besides the man whom he thought to be an enemy, now an ally. Taehyung’s legs were popped up on the couch, examining a new pack of bullets before sliding them into his revolver.

“Just drop something to distract them” Taehyung suggested. “Kim Namjoon. He’s decent right? Just drop a song of his”

“I dunno…it might piss Yoongi off too much” Hobi muttered. Taehyung rolled his eyes.

“Exactly. Yoongi’s a fucking mess when he’s angry. It’s perfect. He’ll go insane on Namjoon, get that bitch out of our way too” Hobi frowned, not ideally wanting to hurt the kind intern. Namjoon desperately wanted Jimin kicked out of his contract. But Hobi knew better. Jimin was a cash crop, his die hard fans willing to sell out each of his shows within minutes. Namjoon’s music was good, but not good enough to be worth dropping an artist like Park Jimin.

“Alright, alright fine” Hobi said. He grabbed his laptop, pulling up Namjoon’s demos. Sighing deeply, he uploaded them onto the site. Once he pressed submit he gasped, hits came rolling in by the second. “Oh God”

“What?” Taehyung sat up in concern, watching as Hobi began to laugh hysterically.

“He’s going viral”

A catchy drum beat began to pick up—radio buzzing through Namjoon’s black Cadillac. You hummed along, not recognizing the song but feeling familiar with the singer’s voice—wait a minute.

“Namjoon” You tapped his thigh rapidly, turning the volume of the song up to hear more clearly. “Oh my God Namjoon—it’s your song” Focused on the road, he didn’t process your words as he made a turn into the parking lot. “Namjoon!”

“Hm?” He rolled his tongue in his cheek, looking around for a parking spot.

“Your song is on the fucking radio Joon” The car came to a screeching halt once Namjoon finally registered what he heard. He blinked at the dashboard, changing the stations to ensure that he wasn’t hallucinating. You squealed in excitement, pulling him into a tight hug. “Congratulations!! You finally did it! You’re finally gonna be a rockstar”

Tears welled in his eyes— he couldn’t even believe it. Glancing at you, so excited and proud, he succumbed to emotion. Lips smashing against yours. He had your face heating with want. Through the intentional glide of his lips, pressed tight against your own, he reeled you in, kissing you passionately. You couldn’t bring yourself to back away, until suddenly you felt something flash in front of your closed eyes.

The two of you practically jumped off of one another, but it was too late. Paparazzi hounded the vehicle, having an absolute field day. “Shit” Namjoon snapped, slamming his fist into the steering wheel “Shit. Shit. Shit! I just kissed Park Jimin’s girlfriend didn’t I?” He buried his face into his palms.

You passed a weak smile to the cameras before pulling down the sun visor to block the prying lenses. “Hey—any PR is good PR”

“Not when Yoongi’s gonna fucking blow my brains out” Namjoon whined “Goddamit” He licked his lips. “Well fuck, might as well give them a show” He grabbed the back of your neck pulling you in but not before you pushed him away. He made a face, which you ignored—contemplating the repercussions of your actions. If Yoongi laid a hand on Namjoon, you didn’t know what you would do. There was no way you were about to let that happen.

Carefully, you exited the car, hiding your face with your palm before going to Namjoon’s side and helping him out. You dragged him inside as fast you could. The second you walked in the entire staff, collected in the lobby, erupted in applause. Namjoon blushed.

As the claps died down, one remained—belonging to non other than Hobi himself. You noticed the way he winked at Namjoon, before clearing his throat. “Congrats buddy. You passed Jimin’s comeback sales with your debut already”

You gaped at him. It simply wasn’t possible. They hadn’t promoted Namjoon at all. Namjoon hugged the songwriter tightly, thanking him.

You pursed your lips. Something was off but you had larger issues at the moment. Slipping away you creeped into Yoongi’s office, determined to search through his things before he arrived. You were going to find that goddamn disc. You were going to destroy Death Valley if it was the last thing you did.

Carefully sliding the door shut behind you, you locked yourself in. The hairs on the back of your neck coming to attention as you heard a sinister laugh.

Oh. My. God. You carefully turned, blood running cold.

“Y-you’re alive?”

Jungkook arrived at your apartment complex, a sense of familiarity as he went up the elevator. He missed living with you. He had barely been able to sleep the past few days. The inner turmoil consuming him of ever aiming a gun at you.

You were the only person who took him seriously besides Namjoon. Despite all the warnings, you had placed your faith in him. Only for him to turn around and betray you like everyone else. He didn’t want to. He really didn’t. His respect for you was unparalleled. But he fucked up.

Now, he may as well profit off of the less-than-ideal situation.

Yoongi stood in his doorway, cigarette in his lips. Jungkook scoffed as the gangster snapped for him to follow. Not even bothering with a greeting. Jungkook did not like Yoongi at all. From what he could gather the man was rude, impulsive, and just an all around nasty person.

“Did you do it?” Jungkook shook his head, arms folding over his chest. He had looked everywhere for Jimin after losing track of you. He was almost certain the star was dead.

“He’s gone” Jungkook didn’t exactly lie. But Yoongi heeded the good news regardless. “Where’s my money?” Yoongi clicked his tongue, smirking.

“Not so fast street rat” Jungkook clenched his fist “I need you to do one more thing for me. I’ll double your pay”

“What?” Rolling his eyes, Jungkook watched as Yoongi pulled up an article on his phone. The headline showing a picture of you and Namjoon kissing in a car. Jungkook almost laughed. You little minx. He felt strangely proud of you.

“Kill him”

“Excuse me?” Yoongi groaned, grabbing his gun from his back pocket. Jungkook quickly did the same.

“You know you can’t kill me dumbass. Do as I say. 4 million” Jungkook gulped. It was moments like this that had him gaining his infamous title as a rat. Would he really sell out one of his oldest customers, one of his closest friends? But also. 4 million dollars. He could do a lot with that kind of money.

“Fine” Jungkook grumbled, lowering his aim. “I’ll do it. I’ll get rid of Namjoon”

Yoongi’s phone began to ring, Jungkook’s stomach flipped upon seeing the contact name. Kim Taehyung. Yoongi’s expression was confused, but he answered nevertheless.

“Is this some sick jo—“ Jungkook watched as Yoongi’s eyes darkened. “You bastard I swear to god if you lay a—“ His fists were clenched, knuckles almost white. Who the fuck?

Yoongi threw the phone across the room, prompting Jungkook to duck as the television behind shattered to pieces. He screamed, pounding his fist into the counter. He turned to Jungkook, a look of utter trepidation.

“Jin’s alive” Jungkook’s mouth went dry. No way. He had shot him himself. “And he has Y/n. Shit. Come with me to the label right now, she’s in danger”

Jin sighed, clicking off his phone as he turned to you. “Why do you look so afraid?” He teased, knowing full well how petrified you were of him. He had missed it, the way you would quiver and tremble in his presence. He wanted to pin you against the wall, stuff your mouth with your panties and rail his cock into your tight cunt, but that would have to wait.

Taehyung had been explicit in his instructions. He wasn’t to harm you nor anyone else. His mission was arresting Yoongi. Nothing more, nothing less.

But Jin had other plans. Plans Taehyung would never approve of, but he could care less about the sleazy bastard. In the back of Jin’s mind, he knew he would kill Taehyung the most ruthlessly, for getting away with fucking you time and time again. But first he wanted Yoongi. Oh the things he wanted to do to Yoongi. He wanted to pry his teeth out one by one. He wanted you to watch as he did it. Suck his cock while he did it.

Then Jimin. Lucky for him, Taehyung had Jimin tied up and waiting just for him. All the cards were in play.

“How’s paradise with Yoongi been? You believe what I said yet? See how crazy he is hm?” You pursed your lips, only making Jin laugh “Hate being wrong don’t you? It’s okay. Happens. Don’t worry I’m not gonna touch you…yet.” His eyes flashed, “Unless you want me t—“

“I do” You blurted. Jin tilted his head, shocked by your eagerness. “God I want to fuck you.”

He grinned, teeth on display before licking his lips “Well be my guest”

There was no hesitation in your step. Jin would have been suspicious, but was far too distracted by the way his cock stirred as you lowered yourself in front of him.

Cupping your cheek in his hand, he slapped you lightly. Then again, enjoying the way you would recoil, cheek flushing at the impact. Grabbing a hand full of your hair he pulled you back, straining your neck as he spit onto you.

“Filthy. You’re filthy” He chuckled, reaching down to smack your tits. Your lips were glued shut, taking the hits with ease. He hissed, pulling your head suddenly and stuffing your face between his legs. He rolled his hips into you, muffling your face as you whimpered. His restrained cock pressing against your cheek. Yanking you back again he could see the hate in your eyes. “You’re so cute when you’re mad.”

He slid his foot between your thighs, pressing his calf against your trembling cunt. He moved his leg up and down, created some much needed friction as you mewled.

“Like that?” Jin chuckled. You whined, twitching as he sped up. He kneed your stomach when you didn’t respond, making you yelp. “I asked you a question”

“Yeah” Your voice was high pitched, desperate as you savored the feeling of his hard leg under you, rubbing yourself all over him. “Fuck. Jin—fuck”

“Oh” Jin snickered “Baby’s wet already?” He bent down, reaching to fondle your breasts. You gasped at his touch. He loved the sounds you would make. He pinched, pulled and smacked at you over your hoodie, all while you began to grind faster on his leg.

“Please Jin…want you really—bad” You gasped. He grabbed your jaw, turning your head painfully upwards. Grabbing his gun from his jacket, he traced the side of your face with the weapon. The cool sheen of the metal sending shivers down your spine.

“This is fully loaded baby” click. He pulled the trigger, your eyes widening “Suck it” You puckered your lips, allowing him to press the tip against them. He’d jut the barrel forward, making you whimper in fear, teasing as though he would pull the trigger.

Pulling the gun out, he licked your saliva from it, humming pleasantly before nudging it back in. Forcing your mouth open, Jin ruthlessly shoved the gun down your throat. Filling you, he held your face, not letting you move away as you began to choke all over it.

“Mmmffphh” You gagged as Jin began pumping the weapon in and out of your throat, throughly amused by how shit scared you looked.

He angled the gun up into the top of your mouth, making you wince in pain. “You look like such a dumb fucking whore right now”

Removing the gun, he released you, allowing you to fall back and catch your breath. You coughed, feeling Jin’s legs wrap around your shoulder, trapping your head into his thick thighs. His fingers combed through your hair, stroking you like a pet. Clenching into a handful, he pulled you up.

“Wanna fuck your mouth” He pressed his nose against yours “Your man’s gonna be here soon. I want you to suck my cock good, otherwise he’ll die” Roughly he dragged you under the desk, not caring as your head hit the edge of the table.

Dizzily you undid his pants, watching his long, slick cock pop out. You met his eyes, licking your lips. You flattened your tongue, allowing him to slide his hot length on. Wrapping your tongue around it like a snake. Rolling it around his girth as you hollowed your cheeks, moving back and forth. The pop when you would loosen your jaw momentarily before doing it all over again. His eyes fluttered, loving the feeling of you rapidly sucking on him.

Jin grinned, hearing the lock of the door jiggle as Yoongi stormed inside. He was absolutely enraged. Behind him Jungkook stood warily.

“Jungkook close the door. I can’t cause a scene here” Yoongi hissed. You could feel Jin’s cock twitch in your mouth as he began to push and pull you on his cock quickly.

“Min Yoongi. We finally get to truly meet each other. I’ve heard so much about you”

Yoongi gritted his teeth. “Where. Is. She.” Jin knew he won’t shoot him. Jin also knew that as long as Yoongi though he had you captive, he wouldn’t actually lay a hand on him.

“Ah well, if you want to see her, you’re gonna have to do as I—”

“Get up” Jungkook said dryly. He understood Jin’s fucked up mind too well. “Yoongi she’s here. He wouldn’t let her out of his sight if he had her” Yoongi’s eyes quivered. He grabbed the edge of the desk, using all his strength to push it aside revealing you, mouth full of cock, eagerly pumping and sucking away like a whore.

Yoongi reacted without thinking, grabbing you and pulling you away from Jin. You stumbled back while Jin got up, quickly tugging up his pants as Yoongi attempted to kick him in the balls. Jin was fast, moving to the side, but Yoongi anticipated him, running and pushing him against the wall. He swung a hard punch into his face.

Unfortunately for him, Jin was a fighter. Jin dodged him with ease, grabbing his wrist and twisting it—switching places him. The two men went at each other while you gathered yourself turning to Jungkook.

Jungkook, noticing that Yoongi was at a severe disadvantage without a gun decided to step in the fight. He yanked Jin off of Yoongi, tossing him aside.

Jin spat blood out onto the floor, grinning widely as he looked back up at Yoongi. “Come and get me kingpin” He stuck out his tongue, reaching for the door and rushing outside. Yoongi scrambled to follow him—Jungkook following behind until you quickly grabbed his sleeve, pulling him back.

“What the hell Y/n?” Jungkook snapped, stopping in his tracks.

A moment of silence passed. It was too late for Jungkook to chase after the two men now. He looked at you expectantly.

“Why were you with Yoongi?” Jungkook swallowed thickly, biting his lip. He could sense you were shaken up. “What were you doing? What did he have you do?”

Jungkook stammered, seeing your growing anger. “Y/n—“ You held your hand up, silencing him.

“Answer the question.”

“I—Yoongi wanted me to…” Jungkook paused, contemplating whether he should come clean or not. He hated being at odds with you. It felt unnatural.

“Kill Jimin?” You finished for him, scoffing at his guilty reaction. You rolled your eyes “Wow. Wow. They were right about you—you’re just a—“

“Don’t say it”—“Greedy”—“Stop.”—“Little”

Jungkook hissed, pinning you against the wall. “Please don’t. You’re the only one who doesn’t call me that. I thought you respected me. I never did anything to you.” The desperation in his voice was evident.

The two of you panted heavily, faces barely inches away. Jungkook’s eyes exchanged rapidly between your eyes and your lips. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to shoot at you” His voice barely above a whisper.

“Really? That’s what you’re gonna say?” You laughed, turning away from him. “You could have killed me Jungkook. What then?”

“Don’t act all innocent Y/n” Jungkook’s face neared yours, eyes intense, burning into you “You would have screwed me over to run away with your little prince charming Yoongi” Jungkook noticed the way you froze at Yoongi’s reference. He searched your eyes. “What? What is it?”

You shook your head “Nothing. Did you do it? Did you kill Jimin?”

Jungkook sighed “No. I couldn’t find—“ You smashed your lips onto his. Hand on his jaw, drawing him into you—losing yourself in the bittersweet taste of his lips. For a moment everything seemed to disappear and you were caught in the eye of a storm, a dizzying hurricane of desire, fueled by the man in front of you.

He kissed you back earnestly, pushing his tongue into your mouth to open you up wider, allowing you to swallow his muffled groans.

Pulling away, Jungkook exhaled shakily, wiping his lips. “Shit Y/n. What happened?”

“Fuck me” You pushed onto your tippy toes, pecking at his jaw as his hands slid up your back. “Please fuck me”

Jungkook wasn’t about to say no. Not when you were asking so sweetly, blinking up at him. He noticed a scar on your cheek, tracing it with the pad of his thumb. “How did this happen?”

You sighed, wrapping your arms around his neck as he stroked your face. “Yoongi” Jungkook’s eyes darkened. “I don’t wanna talk about it. Please Jungkook I need you” You nuzzled his neck, pushing your chest up his as much as you could.

“Shit, come here” Jungkook pat your ass slightly, prompting you to jump up into his arms. Holding you by your thighs he carried you over to the desk, laying you down carefully.

Starting at your stomach, he pushed your hoodie up, leaving a trail of kisses as he climbed over you—your heart, your chest, your shoulders, your neck—pulling the garment off as he hovered over you. “Y/n—fuck” Jungkook gasped. He stroked your jaw “You’re so fucking hot it drives me crazy”

You smirked “I know” Jungkook growled, your confidence making his cock stir as he nibbled your ear, hand sliding down to slip under your shorts. His fingers found your clit, began flicking at it gently.

“Let me hear you” Jungkook urged you as he sucked into your neck, leaving a prominent hickey. His fingers pressing perfectly against you, rubbing tight circles in a way that had your thighs trembling. Arousal coiled deep within you, causing you to sputter up loud gasps of pleasure.

“Mm—mm—Jungkook—“ He loved how your body was so responsive to his light touches. He allowed his other hand to slide behind your head, bringing your lips back to his so he could melt into your kiss again.

You fell apart in moans as Jungkook’s touches became increasingly intentional, working away at your clit faster and faster. Heat shot up into you, breaths shortening as Jungkook swallowed your every moan, every curse. Your tongues intertwining. Getting lost in each others taste.

His fingers massaged your head slightly, giving you an immense rush of affectionate relief. He touched you with a tenderness that you had lacked. Yoongi’s sweet words had done little to displace his rough treatment of your body. You could tell Jungkook was trying to give you comfort, but you could hardly take any in. Not when all you could think about was the fact the Park Jimin was likely dead. Your Jimin. Gone.

Unknowingly you began to cry. Jungkook noticed this, kissing you deeper. He pulled his hand away, fiddling with his own shorts until you could feel his cock nestled into you clothed folds. Licking away your tears, he pushed the cups of your bra up, allowing his fingers to grapple with the tender nubs. Squeezing them between his knuckles as he fondled them in his palms.

Jungkook’s heart clenched, seeing the hurt in your eyes. He wanted to take the pain away but he knew he couldn’t. He was temporary relief. Nevertheless, he was eager to please you. You had always been good to him. He cared about you. “You’re so beautiful. You’re so fucking beautiful baby” He showered your face with kisses, grinding into you slowly, watching you rile up beneath him.

The collective sounds of your moans complemented the creaking of the desk as Jungkook latched onto your breast, licking softly as he watched your fucked out expression. Pushing aside your shorts, he began to ease his thick cock inside you.

“Jungkook—oh God” You tilted your head back as he filled you. Hands ruffling through his hair, gripping onto the strands as he bottomed out, gasping. For a moment he held you close. Eyes shut, feeling so good with the way you were fitting tightly around him.

He slowly pulled out, allowing you to feel the burn as his length pumped in and out of you, hitting you just where you liked it. His face rested against your neck, whispering soft praise as he continued to fuck you.

“Jimin’s dead” You choked out. Jungkook shushed you, pulling your legs around his waist so he could angle into you deeper. He filled you again, the slickness of your walls allowing him to fuck into you seamlessly. His throbbing cock shooting pleasure through your every nerve. “J-Jimin…l-loved me” Your voice was coarse. Jungkook couldn’t help but feel a sudden rush of heat at the whine in your voice.

“Sssshhh I got you baby” You cunt squelched as he impaled you over and over again, taking his time as he lowered himself closer to you, hands sliding to your low back, face pressed into your neck where he continued to leave soft kisses. “Don’t think. You’re so strong”

“W-who killed him—“ Jungkook groaned, seeing how distracted you were. “Not Hobi. Hobi wouldn’t kill Jimin, it’s not good for the label.”

“Y/n” Jungkook slipped out of you, yanking you up. Grabbing your shoulders he tossed you onto your chest, smacking your ass hard as you cried. “Dammit you really are a needy bitch huh. Won’t fucking shut up until I give it to you hard is that it? And here I was trying to be sweet”

“Don’t—“ Smack “I don’t want sweet” You whined. “Jungkook please” He chuckled bitterly, passing one last smack to your tender ass before diving his face into your cunt.

You squealed, he harshly poked his tongue at your clit before licking down your folds, shoving deep into your core. He lapped at you as you gripped the desk, letting out a loud whine as he continued to smack your thigh.

“Cum” Jungkook groaned into you, making you tremble at the command in his voice “Cum on my tongue” Smack You nodded, biting your lip as you focused on the feeling, letting the fire build within you—and before you knew it you were screaming out his name.

“J-Jungkook. Ohhhh fuck Jungkook-k—shit.” You surged onto him, cunt dripping as your entire body began to shake. Tremors of pleasure pulsing through your veins. You twitched and writhed, holding onto Jungkook’s head as your cunt throbbed, emptying your arousal into the flick of his tongue. He sucked you until you were screaming for him to stop, after which he pounced on you, licking his lips before slamming his cock inside you.

Your body swallowed him in, pussy grasping onto his cock for life as he pistoned into you. He began to whine, muffling himself into the nape of your neck, teeth grazing against your skin as he pounded into you hard.

“Shit shit baby shit” Two hard slaps to your ass had you crying out for him. He yanked your head back, looking into your eyes. “You like that? Like when I fuck you hard hm baby? Taking my big cock? Yeah?” Your eyes rolled back, trying desperately to look at him but too fucked out to even think.

“I love it. I love it fuck…more Jungkook—please” Jungkook chuckled, tongue tracing your lips.

“Needy fucking bitch. So fucking needy hm? How much you gonna take huh? I could fuck you over and over again, pump you full of cum and then what hm? You’re gonna just come back for more aren’t you?” Grabbing your hips, he let you fall forwards as he yanked you back and forth, busting his cock deeper and deeper into you.

“Want your cum Jungkook. W-want it really bad” You sputtered, drooling over the desk as Jungkook continued pulling you back onto him. He cursed, leaning over to cup your breasts. With a tight squeeze he came, groaning out as cum shot up into you, the heated pressure intoxicating. He rest his head against your back, kissing down your spine as he gently massaged the ass he so harshly abused.

“Fucking hell” Jungkook sighed, helping you up. He covered your face in soft kisses, licking away the sweat on your shoulders. You fell limp into his arms, letting him hold you as you buried yourself into his taught chest. Losing yourself in the scent of him. The high faded, even as he stroked your back, kissing the top of your head. The guilt, the pain, the sadness all came flooding back.

You laughed. Almost hysterically you buckled over into him. Jungkook held your shoulders as you cackled loudly.

Time and time again you fell a fool to awful men. Meanwhile the good one’s like the one in your arms now, you dared to doubt. “My God it’s fucking Taehyung. It’s always fucking Taehyung.”

“Taehyung’s alive?”

Nodding, you slid your hand up his chest, resting it on his heart, “Jungkook. If I told you I could bring Death Valley down. Destroy it all, Yoongi and Taehyung along with it…would you help me? Would you swear your loyalty to me?”

“Of course.” Jungkook didn’t even need to think twice—“Of course I would”

—

Back in his car, Namjoon felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Seeing it was Jungkook, he answered right away. “Hey.” Fuck man. Congrats on the album. Where you at, let’s pop some molly and celebrate? Namjoon chuckled “For sure, I’ll be heading home in a bit, gotta run some errands”

He had head over to the warehouse, in which lay a withering, beaten Park Jimin. Torturing the rockstar had been immensely fun for him the past few days. Blindfolded and tied with his arms in the air, Namjoon was able to use him as a punching bag. Hobi wouldn’t let him die. But it was still fun.

Today he was even more excited, knowing he broke Jimin’s records, was seen in public with his girlfriend. All these things had his ego inflating rapidly. Finally he was going to have it all.

The way Namjoon saw it, he deserved everything that was happening to him. He worked hard. Hustled for his money. Based his music on true emotions, fueled often by you or his situation. He was incredibly exhausted of things not going his way.

The last thing on his list was you. You were clearly into him, considering that you had kissed him in the car. That every time it was you making the first move. He had been an idiot to not catch onto it sooner.

You were in love with him. All this time it had been you who urged him to follow his dreams, to stay away from the drugs and the fighting. You were his rock. His lucky charm. He only wished he had realized sooner.

Little did Namjoon know that he was being followed. Jungkook was careful as he trailed Namjoon. Once Namjoon left, Jungkook creeped inside the warehouse, careful to look for any other gang members.

He was almost certain Hobi was still there, nevertheless he walked in to see Jimin, head hanging low— limbs exhausted from being suspended in the air. Eyes covered with a dark cloth. It was a sight to behold.

Normally Jungkook would have been thrilled seeing Jimin in such a sorry state, but knowing how heartbroken you had been at the thought of him being dead, he was moreso relieved to find the star on the verge of life. Quickly he ran to him, removing his blindfold and untying his restrains. Jimin slumped over Jungkook’s shoulder, allowing him to carry the unconscious body to his car. Grabbing a bottle of water, he pressed it to his lips.

“Don’t die you fucking asshole” Jungkook muttered. He genuinely didn’t understand why you were so into Jimin. But that wasn’t any of his business. He was making a change. He was not letting you down ever again. Jimin stirred, eyes fluttering open.

Gunshots rang. Jungkook turned to see Hobi shooting at him. “Fuck” He strapped Jimin into the passenger seat, stepping on the gas to whir away from the ricocheting bullets. Hobi hopped onto a motorcycle, chasing after them.

“W-what’s going on?” Jimin groaned, coughing as he clutched his stomach. Muscles throbbing with pain. Jungkook rolled his eyes, ignoring the question to instead peek into his rearview mirror. Hobi had almost caught up to them, shooting towards his taillights. Jungkook lowered the window of his car, eyes oscillating from the road to the mirror before he swiftly swung his hand back, shooting rapidly at the approaching vehicle.

Jimin rubbed his eyes, turning to see the action go down “Okay. Dumbass. Can you fucking drive? Give me the gun” Shrugging, Jungkook handed him the device. He had never actually seen Jimin in action. Part of him was intrigued. Jimin looked into the mirror. “God I look so fucked up—my hair holy sh—“

“Are you serious right now Park?” Jungkook growled, speeding the accelerator. Hobi was at their back wheel. Jimin chuckled, pulling the trigger of the gun.

“Watch and learn rat boy” Licking his lips, Jimin kicked open the car door. Steadily, he aimed the gun. With one bullet, Hobi’s tire punctured, causing him to spin off the road. “Amateurs” He muttered, blowing at the barrel of the gun.

Jungkook’s eyebrows were raised with impressed shock. “Where are you taking me? What the fuck is going on?” Jimin snapped, slamming the door shut.

“I’m taking you to Y/n. I’ll catch you up on everything. Shit is fucking insane”

Jimin sighed. “Is she okay? She didn’t get hurt did she?” Jungkook pursed his lips, glancing at him briefly. Jimin understood from the look alone.

“FUCK. I should’ve been there for her” Jimin groaned. “Get me to her as fast as you can. Please”

—

You sat quietly in the studio, three lines of cocaine down, blunt pressed to your lips. Jungkook had assured you he would do some digging into Hobi to find out what happened to Jimin. Looking up, you smiled weakly as Namjoon entered.

“Hey” He sighed, tilting your face up for a kiss. You moved away. “What?”

“Sorry I just…had I rough day okay” You sighed, taking a hit and allowing the soft smoke to fade out of your lips. “Not in the mood” Namjoon nodded, taking your hand into his.

“You wanna talk about it?” Shaking your head, you leaned against his chest, listening to the steady, sane beat of his heart.

“I’m really happy for you Joon” You mumbled. “I really am it’s just—“ Your voice broke. “Jimin’s missing—I think he’s dead and I—“

Namjoon scowled. How could you be thinking about Jimin on a day like this? Today was his day. You were so happy for him this morning, what the hell had changed?

The door opened. You almost fell of your chair. You were clearly high. There was no fucking way.

“Baby” Jimin exhaled. Jimin had insisted Jungkook take him home to shower first. He did not want to arrive to you looking like a pathetic, malnourished mess. He cleaned up, hair still slightly wet, dressed in a t-shirt and sweats. Comforting, real, Park Jimin. Your eyes filled with tears. Namjoon grabbed your wrist to keep you from falling.

He spread his arms open. You yanked yourself out of Namjoon’s hold, jumping into his arms. You breathed in his scent, wanting to drown in him. Crying you held onto him for dear life as he swung you around, lips glued to yours. Eyes shut, hearts aching with longing.

You cupped his face, staring into his eyes incredulously. Jimin pressed his forehead against yours, smiling fondly as his hands rested lightly at your waist.

“God I missed you so much” He mumbled, pulling you back into another hug. You cried into his chest. Jimin sent Namjoon a kind smile, which was very much not reciprocated. He was too caught up in reuniting with you to notice the way Namjoon’s fists were balled up, ready to punch a wall.

Breaking the embrace, you held his hands “Yoongi—Jin—I—”

“I know baby. Jungkook told me everything. I won’t let either of them touch you okay, you’re safe now” He kissed your cheek “Come on, let’s go home.” Sliding his arm around your shoulder, he led you out of the studio.

The two of you walked off leaving behind a man wretched. A man who then broke into a fit of screams.

ᐊ——[ previous ] series navi | masterlist | scream in my ask box

a/n: ok yeah that wasnt that good of a cliffhanger sorry. i know yall are prolly like jimin smut??? sis??? next time ok. so much jimin smut ok.

so. thoughts??? namjoon sir are you GOOD???? jungkook yay??? yoongi and jin wtf??? taehyung and hobi!!!???? (if you’re confused about the tae-hobi-joon thing, basically tae and hobi are working together. namjoon thinks hes working with hobi but doesnt know tae is involved. yet)

let me know your thoughts & theories!!! thanks for reading. you are a sexy human. have a great day!

taglist: @imluckybitches @gee-nee @missseoulite @hcneybees @kooookie @queenmasterxx @crustycaitlin @virgo-and-libra @un2-verse @winter-melontea @equivocacies @infernal-alpaca @shrimpmsg @meowmeowyoongles @rjsmochii @liltangerined @littlrmills14blog @issysor @arandomblackgirl @adoringinsanity @giadalin @jeontier @kaithezaftig @jinssexytoe @nonnis97@minyoongiboongi @happygirl62304 @just-me-and-myselfs @purplepebbles @channiespup @lilacdreams-00 @kianam @thmrdrs @kpoppin-mel @namjooningelsewhere @lolzerss @planetsope @ohmykim @xyahrinx @bangtan-army @you-are-my-wind

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Text

Delight in Misery

- Chapter 10 (ao3) -

tumblr: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8 (interlude), part 9

In Lan Wangji’s view, the best part about the upcoming visit by Xiao Xingchen and Song Zichen wasn’t the excuse to drag a tetchy and reluctant Jiang Cheng night-hunting, nor the chance to meet such interesting and swiftly famous cultivators, or even the vanishingly rare opportunity to learn more about Wei Wuxian by exploring his heritage on his mother’s side.

No – it was definitely the way the mere concept transformed Jiang Cheng into a stuttering teenaged admirer about to see their revered idol for the first time.

“You remember that they are both nearly ten years your junior?” he asked as Jiang Cheng fussed around, alternating between worrying himself sick for not being prepared to receive guests (for all that the Jiang sect had been receiving honored guests for years at this point) and bragging about the exploits of their soon-arriving guests to the fascinated flock of children dogging his heels.

“No more than seven or eight at most,” Jiang Cheng objected, and Lan Wangji rolled his eyes. “Anyway, that’s not the point. Look at how accomplished they both are! When I was that age, I hadn’t done anything!”

Lan Wangji didn’t think that was entirely right. When Jiang Cheng had been the age Xiao Xingcheng and Song Zichen were now, he’d endured the loss of his sect and rebuilt it from nothing, acting more or less singlehandedly while still finding time to fight the Wen sect shoulder-to-shoulder with the other Great Sects and also search for the missing Wei Wuxian with Lan Wangji.

He opted not to mention it.

Let Jiang Cheng keep his illusions and ignore the steady encroachment of time.

“You’re calling me old in your head,” Jiang Cheng said accusingly, and Lan Wangji pasted an innocent expression on his face as confirmation. “You are, you bastard! You know you’re older than me, right?”

Lan Wangji could get a great deal of out of an admission like that.

“That’s not what I meant! We’re peers, you…!” Jiang Cheng huffed. “Listen, you’d better be on your best behavior around our guests, all right? I don’t want them to be scared off just because it looks like you’re glowering whenever you think –”

“I’ll follow your example, then, and simply not think at all.”

“Go jump off a pier!”

The children all giggled.

“You’re all going to be on best behavior too,” Jiang Cheng told them, fierce as a hissing domestic cat and just as adorably toothless. “You hear me? All of you! A-Yuan, A-Ling, that means you’re going to be cute but not spoiled, while A-Yu can – actually, just do the same as them in an age-appropriate way, you’re cute enough –”

Mo Xuanyu beamed.

“Still, we don’t know what they’re like. Start by being a little reserved – not too loud –”

Lan Sizhui waved for attention as if they were in a classroom.

“…yes?” Jiang Cheng asked, looking vaguely resigned and grumpy in a way that was clearly meant to conceal how unbearably charming he found the gesture.

“Can I be called Sizhui this time?” Lan Sizhui asked eagerly. “I’m old enough!”

Jiang Cheng frowned a bit, and Lan Wangji understood. The Jiang sect generally didn’t use courtesy names until the child in question had mastered a full sword routine, usually age eight or nine, and close family almost never made the switch in full; from what Lan Wangji knew, Jiang Yanli had called Jiang Cheng ‘A-Cheng’ right up until the end of her life, not to mention referring routinely to Wei Wuxian, who she’d only met when he was already old enough to use his courtesy name, as ‘A-Xian’. The Lan sect, in contrast, started using courtesy names almost exclusively once a child was old enough to leave his parents, typically age three or four – Lan Wangji had been calling Lan Sizhui by name for years already, and had been needling Jiang Cheng to pick it up as well without success.

“I’ll introduce you,” Lan Wangji offered, saving Jiang Cheng the awkwardness of having to explain or decline or, worst of all for someone like Jiang Cheng, accidentally slip up and say something sappy like you’ll always be A-Yuan to me.

Lan Sizhui nodded, satisfied, and next to him, Jin Ling frowned. “What about me?” he asked. “Am I going to be Rulan?”

“The Jin sect is the last of the Great Sects in using courtesy names,” Jiang Cheng said, finally on more solid ground. “Not until you get your sword, and that’s not until you’re eleven. Or twelve!”

“But I already have a sword…”

“The age you would be if you were getting your own,” Lan Wangji interjected. “To make it fair to all the rest.”

That seemed to reassure Jin Ling, who nodded. “Good,” he grumbled. “I don’t wanna be Rulan, anyway…jiujiu, when did you say these guests would be arriving?”

That, of course, sent Jiang Cheng back into a flurry of activity, and Lan Wangji shook his head, long-suffering. “You’ve hosted entire discussion conferences,” he pointed out to Jiang Cheng. “There are only two cultivators this time. It is far easier.”

“Is it?” Jiang Cheng shot back. “Is it really?”

In contrast to the expectation and build up leading up to it, the actual arrival of Xiao Xingchen and Song Zichen was rather unremarkable. They arrived just as the sun was setting, two young men, one beautiful and the other handsome, both valiant heroes with faces that shone with kindness and righteousness. Xiao Xingchen’s face was curved in a gentle smile, Song Zichen set in a neutral expression. Both seemed sincere and respectful when they bowed deeply in greeting.

“It’s a pleasure and honor to host such heroes,” Jiang Cheng said, nodding his head regally in return. He really had at some point learned how to fake being a competent and confident sect leader, and it might have even had the effect he was going for if it wasn’t for the small gaggle of children very eagerly stealing peeks from next to him – but Lan Wangji wasn’t going to be the one to tell on them. “I’ve heard many stories of your adventures, and I have long looked forward to meeting you in person. My Lotus Pier is open to you for as long as you require.”

“Sect Leader Jiang is upright and straightforward, well known for his righteousness,” Xiao Xingchen said, and perhaps only Lan Wangji knew precisely why Jiang Cheng flushed with such pleasure at a compliment more commonly applied to Nie Mingjue. “We are happy to be here as your guests.”

Jiang Cheng nodded a second time, still a little stiff and wooden. “You have traveled quite a distance. Are you tired or hungry..?”

They shook their heads in refusal.

Jiang Cheng darted a glance at Lan Wangji, then turned back to them, finally relaxing out of the excess formality that suited Jin Guangshan far more than it did Jian Cheng. “In that case,” he said, his voice a little dry. “Upon the suggestion of certain of my advisors, would you prefer to cut the boring small talk and go out on a night-hunt instead?”

Xiao Xingchen’s face split into a genuine smile, and even Song Zichen’s severity seemed a little eased.

“What an excellent idea, Sect Leader Jiang,” Xiao Xingchen said warmly. “We’d be happy to. I was just telling Song Zichen not long ago that it seemed as though we hadn’t been on a proper hunt in far too long.”

“You think you have problems, try being a sect leader,” Jiang Cheng replied impulsively, then turned red when he realized how rude he’d just been. “That is, I mean – well, there’s not nearly as much free time, that’s all.”

Xiao Xingchen laughed. It gave Lan Wangji a good impression of him: light-hearted and lively, his demeanor kind and good-humored. Despite the lack of blood relation, Lan Wangji was reminded of Wei Wuxian – although perhaps that was just his wistful thinking.

“Well, there’s a reason Zichen and I haven’t started our own just yet,” he said mischievously. “There’s time for that later, after all. Youth is when you make a name for yourself! And speaking of which, I’ve heard plenty about your own prowess, Sandu Shengshou. I admit I’m looking forward to seeing Zidian in action.”

Jiang Cheng looked unbearably pleased at the compliment, clearly sincerely meant, and something in Lan Wangji’s heart that he hadn’t even known was tense finally eased.

He hadn’t realized that he himself was nervous about this meeting – less for his own sake, although he burned with curiosity to learn everything he could about Wei Wuxian, than for Jiang Cheng, who had longed for this meeting so much, cared so much. Lan Wangji found to his bemusement that he had even been a little afraid: afraid that the two strangers would be cold or arrogant, afraid that they’d reject Jiang Cheng tentative overtures of friendship – that Jiang Cheng would be disappointed.

Lan Wangji might enjoy teasing Jiang Cheng into a frenzy, but that was his prerogative. In fact, one could argue that it was only what he was due for having lived with and put up with the man for so long. He’d been the one who’d been there all this time, the one who’d put in so much effort to help rebuild him back into the man he could be rather than the wreck he had been; he’d earned the right to mock him.

No one else was entitled to so much as touch the hem of his robes.

“I have heard much of your matchless skill as well, Hanguang-jun,” Song Zichen said, his voice unexpectedly deep, and Lan Wangji’s attention came back to him as he returned the man’s salute. They both had reputations for being closed-mouthed ice-blocks, and it seemed to Lan Wangji that Song Zichen was probably just reserved, like him, rather than truly standoffish.

“You’re in for a treat, then,” Jiang Cheng said with a faint smirk. “Whether in sword or music, few can match Hanguang-jun’s talents, and he never stints on displaying them.”

To the untried ear, perhaps Jiang Cheng sounded bitter or jealous, and given his competitive mania he probably was, a little, but to Lan Wangji he sounded more smug than anything else, as proud as if he were the one being praised.

With everything settled, they headed off at once.

The subject of the night-hunt was nothing terribly exciting – a troop of fierce corpses ravaging the countryside that someone had finally managed to divine the location of, with the only interesting aspect about them being that they were unusually fast-moving – so there was plenty of time for them to talk as they followed the trail.

Lan Wangji expected Jiang Cheng to start asking questions about the immortal mountain and Wei Wuxian’s mother at once – Jiang Cheng might be prideful and thin-faced, prone to shame and overthinking, but he’d been raised along Wei Wuxian, who was second to none in shamelessness, and Lan Wangji was well aware of how much he hungered for that knowledge.

Of course, probably as a direct result of Lan Wangji’s expectations, Jiang Cheng went for a completely different target.

“It’s said that we live in an age of young heroes,” he remarked, seemingly casual. “Of course, for most of us, that was simply the inevitable result of war – crisis demands the best from people, regardless of age. Without such necessity to spur us onwards, most of us probably would’ve been still kicking our heels even now, whereas you two became heroes as soon as you arrived…how old are you now, again?”

“We are both twenty-one,” Song Zichen said, and Lan Wangji used the moment to glare over at Jiang Cheng when he mouthed six years at him – was this really the time to quibble over something as pointless as the exact age gap between them, which he’d clearly inquired about for no other purpose than to prove Lan Wangji’s earlier assumption wrong? This was Wei Wuxian’s martial uncle here! They should be getting all the information out of him that they could!

(Lan Wangji had long ago decided that when it came to feuding over minor matters with Jiang Cheng, he would be as gracious in defeat as his opponent…which was to say, not at all.)

Jiang Cheng smirked at him, knowing what he was thinking, but then – finally – turned the subject onto the immortal mountain, or more specifically its former disciples.

This time it was Song Zichen’s turn to relax minutely, Lan Wangji noticed. A moment’s thought revealed the reason: they’d probably feared cultivators asking questions that were far more pointed than what they were getting from them – cultivators greedy for the secrets of immortality. No wonder they so assiduously avoided being hosted by the Great Sects, and had done so even before Lanling Jin had gotten in the way of their heroism.

Well, luckily for them, the interest Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji had was a little more…down to earth.

“Cangse Sanren was a talent to shake the ages,” Xiao Xingchen said, his eyes bright and expression enthusiastic. “It was as if anything she turned her mind to, she excelled at, and she turned her mind to all sorts of things without discrimination – painting, poetry, swordsmanship…” He paused, then firmed his shoulders. “I heard that her son was much the same..?”

Lan Wangji felt a smile want to come up to his lips.

It seemed that Xiao Xingchen was just as interested in finding out more about his martial nephew as they were in finding out more about Wei Wuxian’s martial uncle.

Jiang Cheng glanced over at Lan Wangji, who nodded very shallowly, indicating his approval. In his judgment, both of them seemed safe enough: trustworthy, and not like people who would spread gossip.

They could talk about Wei Wuxian.

Talk truly about him, praising his good points and speaking fondly of his faults…these two, Lan Wangji thought, wouldn’t judge them harshly for failing to condemn him, and they wouldn’t tell anyone else, either.

Later, after they’d finished dispatching the ghouls – and the Wei Wuxian portion of the conversation, for which Jiang Cheng had taken the lead and which a listening Lan Wangji had enjoyed tremendously, largely on account of Xiao Xingchen’s genuine enthusiasm for learning everything he could about the martial nephew he had only just barely missed meeting, fearsome Yiling Patriarch or not – Jiang Cheng finally and regretfully brought them back to the original subject.

“I heard that you two are collecting allies to go after Xue Yang,” he said, and pretended (just as Lan Wangji did) to ignore the way Xiao Xingchen and Song Zichen suddenly glanced at each other. “I’ll support that, of course. From everything I’ve heard, he’s become a mad dog, trying to bite anyone he sees. Hasn’t he been launching all sorts of raids on sects left and right these past few years?”

They nodded.

“Rather pointless ones,” Song Zichen said, a deep frown on his face. “He runs in and causes chaos, then flees into the night – he barely even stops to kill people, and almost never steals treasures. At most he goes to make trouble by defacing the walls of some of the ancestral tombs…we can see no sense in it. The only explanation is that his demonic cultivation has in fact driven him mad.”

Demonic cultivation didn’t necessarily drive a person mad. That was something Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng had painfully learned over the years, much to Jiang Cheng’s distress. However, it certainly didn’t help maintain calmness or peace of mind; there was every chance that a delinquent like Xue Yang had had his temperament worsened by demonic cultivation, leading to his present circumstances.

“Indeed,” Jiang Cheng said noncommittally. “I really have only question for you, then.”

Knowing where this was going, Lan Wangji turned his gaze on their guests’ expression.

“Haven’t you been chasing him on your own for all these years now, trying to get him to go to trial for his crimes, refusing any offers of help?” Jiang Cheng asked, his voice suddenly pointed. “Why the sudden change in favor of asking for help now?”

Xiao Xingchen and Song Zichen shared another long look between them.

Finally, Xiao Xingchen cleared his throat. “In truth,” he said, “we spread that rumor as a smokescreen. We’re not looking for allies, generally speaking…we really only wanted a reason to ask for your help.”

Jiang Cheng stopped and stared, visibly surprised. Lan Wangji kept his expression more neutral, but privately he was just as taken aback; when they’d discussed this earlier, planning out this conversation in advance, that wasn’t even remotely one of the possibilities they’d considered.

“My help?” Jiang Cheng asked cautiously. “Or…?”

“Yours and Hanguang-jun,” Song Zichen said. “We weren’t sure who else to turn to.”

“What’s the issue?” Jiang Cheng asked, waving a hand to halt their forward progress. A good idea, in Lan Wangji’s view: it was the middle of the night, and they were in the middle of the forest in the back hills near the Lotus Pier, with no one around for a good distance except for trusted Jiang sect disciples – if there needed to be privacy for this discussion, this was the best place for it.

Another shared glance.

Lan Wangji slanted a glance of his own to Jiang Cheng, who returned it: they’d been right, there really was something unusual with this visit.

They stood in silence for a while.

Finally, Xiao Xingchen yielded. “Very well,” he said, and met Jiang Cheng’s eyes. “Sect Leader Jiang…can you tell us what you know about the Ghost General?”

Jiang Cheng stiffened, his fists clenching.

Lan Wangji’s heart felt just as stiff. He stepped forward.

“There are many people who can tell you about Wen Ning,” he said neutrally, watching them carefully. “Assuming that what you wish to know is how he fought or his transformation into a conscious fierce corpse. Is your concern that Xue Yang has replicated the technique and created his own ghost general?”

He didn’t think it would be that. As he’d said, everyone knew what Wen Ning had done once he’d become the Ghost General – the Jin sect would know far better than either of them how fearsome he was, since it was at Jinlin Tower that he had erupted in his final massacre. If they wanted to know about fierce corpses in general, they could go there.

To come here, to Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji – the only two people who were known to have gone up to the Yiling Burial Mounds while Wei Wuxian lived there with Wen Ning at his side, the only living people who knew what the Ghost General was like when he wasn’t being a weapon, to know what Wen Ning was like as a person – suggested something different.

Something impossible.

Xiao Xingchen met his eyes. “It is not.”

“Wen Ning was destroyed,” Jiang Cheng said, his voice tight and unsteady. “He murdered my brother-in-law, my nephew’s father, and when Lanling Jin demanded his head as retribution, he and his sister went to them under pretense of surrender and murdered even more of them before they were taken down. He was destroyed.”

They said nothing.

“The former Sect Leader Jin was very interested in demonic cultivation,” Lan Wangji said slowly. “While Wei Wuxian lived, he sought to claim the Stygian Tiger Seal. When he died…”

He glanced at Jiang Cheng a second time. They had not discussed the subject of the Siege of the Burial Mounds in any detail, as it inevitably put Jiang Cheng into a terrible frame of mind, and Lan Wangji remembered with a shudder the state they had both been in at that fateful meeting – he didn’t want to remember it himself, much less bring back bad memories for Jiang Cheng.

They certainly hadn’t discussed the subject of spoils. The only thing that had ever brought it to mind was the silent presence of Chenqing lying in place of pride in the Jiang sect’s memorial hall as the substitute for the memorial tablet they could not afford to raise for Wei Wuxian.

It hadn’t seemed relevant.

It was now.

“Sect Leader Jin took it,” Jiang Cheng confirmed, his voice shaking a little. “The Stygian Tiger Seal was broken in two, and Wei Wuxian destroyed one of the halves – the Jin sect claimed the other, saying that they were going to destroy it. I think they took more than that, too…I know they took Suibian, but they also took all the papers that’d been left in the cave. I always suspected that that was why they were so protective of Xue Yang, who was a demonic cultivator himself – that Jin Guangshan wanted to squeeze him for information, or maybe even use him to figure out some of Wei Wuxian’s notes…”

His voice trailed off, and he shook his head furiously.

“Wen Ning was destroyed,” he insisted. “The Jin sect scattered his ashes! They – they…”

“They lied,” Song Zichen said.

Lan Wangji pressed his lips together. He had no particularly warm feelings towards Wen Ning, who had been Wei Wuxian’s shadow in that last year or so of life when Wei Wuxian had turned his back on the world – a position Lan Wangji would have given his left arm to have, and over which he had had all sorts of inappropriate feelings of envy and stifled, unjustified possessiveness – but Jiang Cheng took the man’s existence far more personally.

In Jiang Cheng’s view, it had been for Wen Ning that Wei Wuxian had stolen the Wen sect remnants, for Wen Ning that Wei Wuxian had abjured his relationship with the Jiang sect and Jiang Cheng himself, for Wen Ning that Wei Wuxian had given up everything, and yet simultaneously it had also been Wen Ning that had pushed him to the very brink and over. Wen Ning who had murdered Jin Zixuan – Wen Ning who Wei Wuxian had so brutally avenged in the massacre at the Nightless City, at which Jiang Yanli had died.

Wen Ning, who they thought had been destroyed.

“We believe that the former Sect Leader Jin hid Wen Ning away instead of destroying him, then gave Xue Yang access to him, just as he did with the Tiger Seal and Wei Wuxian’s notes,” Xiao Xingchen said, his face solemn. “We also believe that Xue Yang took Wen Ning away with him when he escaped Jinlin Tower once the former sect leader died and the current sect leader took over. We believe that he has been controlling him through demonic cultivation, using him as something of an – accomplice, or something of the sort.”

“Controlling him how?” Jiang Cheng asked. They paused, and he continued, “I’m not stupid. You’re very sure that Wen Ning’s not gone, which means you located him and saw something that made you think so. What was it?”

Lan Wangji nodded shallowly, approving of Jiang Cheng’s deduction – and of the self-mastery he was demonstrating in not exploding in rage on the spot.

“He had nails in his head,” Xiao Xingchen said. “He…the Ghost General was mindless and unthinking, but strong. Very strong. He…”

He trailed off, and shook his head, seeming a bit sad.

“What help do you require from us?” Lan Wangji said, suddenly sick of the tension, and he saw Jiang Cheng throw him a look full of relief for having raised the question.

“Hanguang-jun is right,” Jiang Cheng said, backing him up at once. He crossed his arms over his chest. “What do you need us for? You two are heroes, and half the cultivation world would sell their firstborn child for a chance to bring down the Ghost General to increase their fame – there’s no way you came here just to get our help in bringing him down. If that’s what you wanted, it wouldn’t have needed to be us, and there wouldn’t have needed to be a smokescreen. What do you want?”

“We want to heal him,” Xiao Xingchen said solemnly. “To bring back his consciousness and return his sanity. But we don’t know what he was like, before Xue Yang. The only ones that do are the two of you.”

“You do remember that he killed my brother-in-law?” Jiang Cheng asked, his voice sharp.

“At Wei Wuxian’s order,” Song Zichen responded, equally sharp. “You do not blame the sword for the men it kills.”

Lan Wangji closed his eyes briefly, in pain at the reminder. He took a breath, steadying himself, and then another.

He opened his eyes.

“We will help,” he said, and ignored the betrayed look Jiang Cheng shot his way. They would talk about it later, and he would help Jiang Cheng see that this was what they had to do, no matter how painful. “And we will not betray the secret of his existence.”

“Thank you,” Xiao Xingchen said, and saluted deeply; Song Zichen did as well. “And yet, we have more we would ask of you.”

“Spit it out, then,” Jiang Cheng growled.

“Finding Wen Ning had shown us that Xue Yang’s actions have gone truly beyond the pale, beyond redemption,” Song Zichen said, and his voice was fierce. That wasn’t surprising: it had been his childhood home, his master and fellow disciples, that Xue Yang had attacked. “He is, as you said, a mad dog, biting all that he can – I believe that Wen Ning was his only companion as he fled, chased by the whole cultivation world these past few years. I fear what Xue Yang will do now that his last connection to humanity is gone. He is capable of anything.”

“We must find him,” Xiao Xingchen agreed. “We must find Xue Yang, and we must stop him from doing – whatever it is that he will do next. I cannot even begin to imagine the atrocities he might perpetrate. And so we must ask…”

“Fine,” Jiang Cheng said, and they both looked at him, surprised. “We’ll help you heal Wen Ning, and we’ll even help you hunt down Xue Yang. But this time, no excuses, no dragging your feet, no waiting for a proper trial, nothing like that. He dies, you hear me? Xue Yang is to be killed on sight!”

“I agree,” Lan Wangji said, folding his hands together behind his back. He had helped Jiang Cheng in pursuing and judging demonic cultivators before – there were those that could be granted mercy, and those for whom the only just answer was death; time and too many second chances had made inescapably clear that Xue Yang was the latter. “Each time you have sought to bring him to trial, he has taken advantage of your devotion to justice to escape.”

Xiao Xingchen looked at Song Zichen, who nodded firmly; a moment later, Xiao Xingchen sighed and nodded himself. “Agreed,” he said. “You will help us?”

“We will,” Jiang Cheng said grimly, and Lan Wangji nodded in full support. “It would be a pleasure to wipe that trash off the face of this earth.”

The town was full of mist and fog, choking the throat and making it hard to breathe or see; the feng shui of the entire valley was as bad as could be, and there was more miasma than there was air.

“You there, drunkard, what are you doing!” someone shouted at a figure lying halfway in the door of a house that was filled to the brim with coffins. “Don’t mock our livelihood! Just because it’s a coffin house doesn’t make it a good place to play dead!”

The figure stirred.

But I’m not playing dead, he thought, rubbing his aching head with one hand, noticing that he seemed to be missing his little finger. I actually was dead, wasn’t I?

Wei Wuxian opened his eyes.

#mdzs #lan wangji #jiang cheng #xiao xingchen #song lan #my fic #my fics #delight in misery

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