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wonnieluv · 1 day ago

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All’s fair in love and… airports? - n.rk

Summery: what happens when your already stressful travel day home for the holidays is further ruined by some random emo kid at the airport

stranger!riki x fem!reader

warnings: Riki is a menace, strangers to enemies to ??, kms jokes

Masterlist

What’s the best part of traveling on one of the busiest travel days of the year? Well that’s easy, there isn’t one! Well, that’s what you believed when you stepped out of your cab at the airport.

Breathe Y/N… just get through TSA… you’ll be fine

You step through the doors heading straight for the TSA line, the large LED sign above your head saying “wait time: approx 45+ minutes”. It took every last piece of self control to not audibly groan

Great off to an amazing start

You pop your headphones over your head in hopes to somehow speed up the process.

After about 15 minutes of scrolling on Instagram you decide to look around and gauge how far you’ve moved in relation to how close you are to the front of the line. As you do an in depth scan of your surroundings you notice a boy, possibly your age, walking in your direction on the other side of the line divider.

He’s wearing all black. Black jacket, black pants, black bag, and black hair with bangs that cover his eyes just enough to tell you all you need to know. He wanted to be here just as much as you did. His hoodie pulled up just enough to stay on his head while also not completely shading his face. His lips formed a frown that just screams talk to me I dare you. As you find yourself over analyzing his appearance you quickly avert your eyes back to your phone.

As you inch through the security line, this process continues. You scroll on whatever social media that momentarily entertains you until you notice he’s coming near you. At that point you only partially pay attention to your phone as you continuously eye him until the two of you cross paths and you have to wait until you progress farther down the line so that you’re facing him again. He hasn’t made any indication that he’s noticed your ogling yet and before you know it you’ve crossed his path for what would probably be the last time as you’ve reached the front of the line.

✈︎ ✈︎ ✈︎ ✈︎ ✈︎ ✈︎ ✈︎ ✈︎ ✈︎ ✈︎ ✈︎ ✈︎ ✈︎ ✈︎ ✈︎ ✈︎ ✈︎ ✈︎ ✈︎ ✈︎ ✈︎ ✈︎

After being yelled at by TSA to remember to take everything out of your bag and your person, you finally breathe the closest thing to fresh air you’ll probably have until you exit the terminal on the other end of your flight.

Ok… good job Y/N… hardest part over with.

As you treck to your gate, that is conveniently placed as far as possible down the terminal from where you exited TSA, you grab some snacks to tide you over for the moment. Now nearing your gate, the lord and savior must be smiling down on you or something because there’s a perfectly situated seat available right at your gate. A solo seat with an outlet, table, and perfect view out the window. You know where your path leads you next so you head straight for the seat. What you fail to notice is a shadow moving towards that exact seat.

When you think you’re in the clear, you see mystery mad (cute) boy from TSA block is butt down in the seat, your seat.

In an effort to avoid the embarrassment of having your seat stolen you divert your path to another nearby seat. I mean, he probably didn’t see you right? Well, that’s what you thought until you look back at him from your seat and he sits back all relaxed and cozy with a smirk on his face. He even quirks an eyebrow when you make eye contact as if to say ‘too slow loser’

With the most dramatic eye roll you can muster you divert your focus back to your phone in frustration since you’re now unable to watch out the window.

Seriously, I can’t even have an airport crush in peace…

Taking a deep breath you calm yourself as you wait patiently in your seat for your boarding group to be called. Which was proven to be a hard task when little emo boy (as you’ve unaffectionately nicknamed him) making eye contact with you every 5-10 minutes with that stupid smirk on his face as if he just beat you for a prize of a million bucks not some stupid seat in an airport terminal

Once I get on this plane I won’t have to deal with him anymore… deep breathes Y/N…

“Now boarding group 3 for United flight 384 with full service to Chicago”

Finally… you cheer mentally as you gather your belongings to get in the boarding line.

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Let’s just say your little moment of happiness was cut short when the second you step towards the queue, a massive black figure blocked your path abruptly causing you to nearly run into it.

“Do you mind?” A deep voice comes from the dark being

“You literally walked in front of me… I don’t see how this is my fault” you scoff as you look him in the eyes

Of course it’s this fucking twerp

“My apologies, I’m very high sighted, I have a problem seeing things below 5 feet” he smirks and walks off

You’re sat there stunned. I swear there was probably smoke coming out of your ears as you fumed in anger

I know for a fact that Hot Topic reject did NOT just insult my height

After you got over your momentary freeze, you continued to the boarding line trying to resolve the extreme amount of anger you felt at the moment.

As you finally step foot on the aircraft, you move with the traffic to your placing your roller bag above your head before turning to your row to sit down. But what you saw made you want to turn around and run off the plane screaming ‘BOMB!’ at full volume.

There, in the seat next to yours, sat the boy who has decided his ultimate goal of the holiday season was to make sure you had the worst day ever.

At least I have the window

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They should’ve put me in an exit row so I could rip open the door and jump out

It’s been just over an hour since the flight took off. With a little over an hour remaining, you’ve never wished you could be anywhere else more than in this very moment. Why? Well you’ve found yourself in what could only be described as the fiercest battle of your life. The battle… for the armrest.

“Do you mind?” You glare at the boy who you’ve been shoving your elbow against for close to 15 minutes now.

“I literally have the middle seat, it’s common knowledge the middle should be allowed to have the armrest” he argues back. “It’s common decency”

“Oh yea” you scoff “like I should be taking lectures from you” you roll your eyes and proceed to shove his arm off the armrest again.

“Oh come on” he rolls his eyes before turning to you, “if you’re going to be this childish, we can just share” he scoffs laying his arm on top of yours.

“You know…” you look at him “if you wanted to hold my hand so bad you could’ve just said so” you smirk at him

His eyes shoot down now realizing that his large hand was now resting on top of your much smaller one.

He immediately retracts his hand scoffing “as if…”

And just like that you had the armrest to yourself for the rest of the flight.

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The ding of the seatbelt sign turning off was more satisfying than you’d ever imagined it could be. You exhale out of relief when you finally get to stretch your legs and walk down the aisle with your bags knowing that once you got out into the terminal, you were free of this parasite in the form of a wanna be grim reaper.

The lights of the terminal felt a little bit brighter as you walked towards baggage claim. You’re finally in the home stretch. All that’s left is to get your bag and meet your parents at arrivals and you get to put this whole nightmare behind you.

You approach the carousel and you immediately block the dark presence that you can’t seem to lose. You immediately move to the opposite side as the alarm blares and the conveyor begins to move. A breath of relief leaves your lips as you see your black suitcase. You approach the conveyor and reach for the suitcase but as your hand comes in contact with the handle, it also comes in contact with another hand.

As the two of you pull the suitcase off the belt you turn to face the person and of course you’re met with the same dark eyes that have been tantalizing you all day.

“You can let go of my bag now…” you glare up at him

“How do you know this isn’t my bag” he smirks down at you.

“Look dipshit, I hope you’ve had fun making my life hard all day, but this has my name on it unless you want the claim the pink ribbon tag as your own” you shove his hand off of the suitcase “now piss off” you turn away and walk away from him towards the doors. Towards freedom. But before you have the ability to escape you feel a tug on your wrist.

You turn around to face him again “what now” you’re clearly not impressed by the tone of your voice.

“I-I” his demeanor has completely changed now. He won’t meet your gaze as he fumbles out “I’m sorry… I guess I thought you were cute and… it was so fun to tease you but… I took it too far” his hand still holding your wrist as he looks down at the floor “I… just wanted to let you know before you left. I know there isn’t much I can do… but I really am sorry”

You gently remove your wrist from his grasp as you look at him with an unreadable expression

“I-I guess I’ll let you go now” he starts to back away but before you can turn away you stop him.

“Well… I guess you’ll have to give me your number so you can make it up to me” you smirk at him.

He looks at you with wide eyes, mouth slightly agape before he snaps out of it and fumbles to get his phone out of his pocket.

“O-oh… um… y-yea…” he takes your phone trying to suppress the smile by nibbling on his bottom lip as he hands it back to you. He stares at you with a slight star struck gaze. But when he finally snaps out of it, you’ve already started walking away.

“I’ll text you… uhhhh” he hesitates just now realizing he doesn’t know what you’re name is

“it’s Y/N”

“Yea… I’ll text you Y/N!” He calls out to you

“I’ll look forward to it little emo boy” you call back before continuing to walk away.

“It’s riki!” He calls once more before you go out of sight. He does a little celebration to himself, not minding the obvious stares of judgement and curiosity from onlookers in the terminal. As he collects his bags finally his phone buzzes in his pocket.

I had the idea for this while I was on the plane home for the holidays so I hope everyone likes it!

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kikyoupdates · 1 day ago

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For Tomorrow's Sake ⭑˚💫⭑ 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑤𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑔

various!jjk x f!reader

reverse harem, isekai, jujutsu kaisen x fem!reader, slowburn

You never believed reincarnation was possible, least of all in the fictional world of Jujutsu Kaisen. However, from the moment you meet Gojo Satoru, it’s impossible to deny. Whether it’s a miracle or some kind of curse, you find yourself growing up alongside the strongest jujutsu sorcerer. Unfortunately, you know what the future holds in store. You know exactly what kind of tragedies await. Perhaps that’s why you were brought into this world. If it means saving people from a gruesome fate, you’ll gladly suffer in their place. You’ll do whatever it takes. All for the sake of a better tomorrow.

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Toji finds himself at a loss for words.

Today, he made up his mind to pay a visit to the so-called 'strongest' sorcerer, Gojo Satoru. He wanted to witness the pinnacle of jujutsu for himself. To see, with his own eyes, what someone truly blessed—in all the ways he isn’t —can amount to.

Toji was already surprised that Satoru took note of him. Never in his life has anyone else been able to do that. It seems it really is true. That a mere child possesses power beyond anyone’s wildest dreams. However, right now, he’s surprised for a different reason entirely.

And of course, that reason is you .

Toji blinks. He can’t help but wonder if he must be imagining things. It wouldn’t make much sense otherwise. There’s no rational explanation for what’s happening. Did some strange little girl seriously just walk up to him and ask for his help?

“What,” Toji simply replies. It’s not even really a question. Rather, he’s in disbelief. And you’re still standing in front of him, looking up at him with hope and admiration.

To be honest, no one has ever looked at him that way.

“I want to become strong, just like you,” you repeat, and even now, your smile shows no signs of disappearing. “Since you don’t have any cursed energy, by any chance, do you… fight using cursed tools? Because I’d like to try learning how to use them as well. I’ve been looking for someone to help train me.”

Satoru gapes at you. “Uh, [Name]? What are you saying? You can’t just ask some random weirdo to train you! We don’t even know who he is!”

“It’s not nice to call people weirdos, Satoru. Especially when you barely know them.”

“Either way, he’s still a stranger! Why did you even walk up to him in the first place? You’re seriously crazy!”

Toji blinks yet again. Is this… some kind of joke? A comedy routine? Standing right in front of him is Gojo Satoru, hailed as the pride and joy of the jujutsu world. Even as young as he currently is, he can go head-to-head with the most formidable, elite sorcerers—and not only that, but he’d win .

A few moments ago, Toji felt a chill in the air, and it wasn’t due to the cold winter breeze. When Satoru turned towards him, with those eerie, piercing blue eyes of his, Toji immediately felt inferior. Even more so than he already did. He’s not the type to get intimidated, and yet, there was no denying the sheer pressure behind that young boy’s gaze.

Except now, that pressure is gone.

All Toji sees is two stupid, bickering kids.

“We’re leaving,” Satoru grits out. He glares pointedly up at Toji, still with his little arms wrapped around you, and the expression he makes is juvenile, or rather, childish . Because technically, he is a child.

Toji just stands there with a frown. He’s heard of Gojo Satoru, of course, but he has absolutely no idea who you’re supposed to be. A relative, perhaps? Or a friend? But you just said that you’re not strong. That’s why you want to get stronger. Would the Gojo Clan really permit their prized jewel to waste time frolicking with some talentless little brat?

“I can’t leave yet,” you insist. Satoru tries to pull you along, but you root your feet firmly into the ground, making it clear that you’re not going anywhere. Then you look back at Toji and smile once again. “What do you say, mister? Would you be willing to help train me? I’m [Name], by the way. What’s your name?”

“Stop it!” Satoru fumes. “You shouldn’t go around telling strangers your name!”

“But you already said my name earlier, and he obviously heard it. Silly Satoru. Always getting worked up for no reason. Don’t worry, I got this. Just watch and learn.”

You grin confidently, and Toji can’t help but marvel at your idiocy. Or perhaps it’s lunacy. Either way, it doesn’t make much of a difference.

“No,” he replies, watching as your expression drops. “Why should I train some brat I just met? You must have lived a very sheltered life until now, if you feel comfortable going around asking others for favors.”

Satoru furiously grinds his teeth together. “How dare you. You don’t know anything about her. Rotten old fart. [Name]’s life has been anything but sheltered. If you don’t shut up, I’ll kick your ass.”

“I’m nowhere near as old as you seem to think I am,” Toji scowls.

Whatever. He’s had enough foolishness for one day. He already did what he set out to do. He came here to steal a glimpse of Gojo Satoru, and all it did was sour his mood even more. He’s better off walking away before he loses his temper.

And so, he leaves. Or at least, he tries to.

You’ve grabbed onto his arm and are refusing to let go.

“Please at least hear me out, mister,” you insist. Toji stares down at you in stark disbelief, and meanwhile, Satoru outright gasps. Honestly, he kind of looks like he’s about to pass out. Your never-ending antics really aren’t good for his heart.

It’s absurd. Two little kids are basically playing tug-of-war at Toji’s expense. Of course, he could push you back with ease, although something tells him the strongest jujutsu sorcerer wouldn’t take too kindly to that. Which just makes it even more tempting, truthfully. Toji already resents the world of jujutsu as it is. Perhaps purposefully angering Gojo Satoru, even at the risk of his own life, might give him some relief.

He could do it. He could pick a fight if he really wanted to. Also, there’s no guarantee he’d lose. Maybe he should give it a try. If he were to somehow win against this spoiled brat who’s been blessed with everything he could ever dream of… maybe finally, the Zen’in Clan would acknowledge him.

The longer Toji stares into Satoru’s pale, blindingly blue eyes, the more he feels like testing his luck. The more he itches to bring the world of jujutsu sorcerers, and everything it stands for, crumbling into pieces.

But he doesn’t.

Your next words resonate with him more than he could ever have imagined.

“My family hated me because I was so weak,” you say, keeping your little hands tightly wrapped around Toji’s arm as you stare up at him, gaze solemn and determined. “They told me I was worthless, and that I would never amount to anything. My dad beat me really badly one day because he was so embarrassed of me. I’m sure it would have kept happening if Satoru hadn’t offered to let me live with him instead. I might not have zero cursed energy, like you, but I barely have enough to qualify as a sorcerer, and everyone always looks down on me for it. I think it’s unfair how some people get judged and cast aside, before they get the chance to prove themselves. Even if you don’t have any cursed energy, it’s obvious to me that you’re really strong. And it makes me feel like I could maybe be strong one day, too. I know it probably sounds like a hassle, but is there even a chance you might consider it? I could—oh, I know! I could pay you. Would you do it then? If I paid you enough?”

Yet again, Toji finds himself at a loss for words.

“Um… unfortunately, this is all I have on me right now.” You dig into your yukata and pull out a few wrapped candies, then gently place them into Toji’s open palm. He blinks, incredulous, as you smile once more. “I’ll pay you with real money, of course. Think of these candies as a promise, or like a down payment. I live with the Gojo Clan, and they’ve got a lot of money. If you agree to help train me, you might even become rich.”

Satoru’s jaw couldn’t possibly be hanging any lower. “[Name], what the hell? I just told you to leave this geezer alone, and now you’re saying you’re going to pay him?!”

“Well, I wouldn’t be the one paying, technically. Your relatives would.”

“And you’re just assuming they’ll go along with this?!”

“Maybe. If you do a good job of convincing them.”

You grin widely. Toji is quickly realizing that you’re a cheeky little brat, and apparently, even Gojo Satoru doesn’t quite know how to handle you. Not that it stops him from trying, though. Satoru grits his teeth as he struggles to pull you back. He must be consciously avoiding using his cursed energy, so as not to hurt you even a little. But without it, he’s physically no stronger than an ordinary seven-year-old kid. It also doesn’t help that you’ve latched onto Toji with seemingly all the strength you can muster.

God. This situation is so ridiculous, it’s almost laughable.

“I’m not going!” you insist, burying your face in the sleeves of Toji’s kimono as he sighs irritably. “You can’t make me, Satoru! I need to hear how this nice mister responds first! And even if he says no again, I’m going to stay here until I change his mind!”

Toji knits his brows together. “Aren’t you jumping to conclusions by assuming I’m nice?”

“Oh. Maybe. But I like to try and stay optimistic,” you beam.

“It’s called being dumb , not optimistic,” Satoru grimaces. “We seriously need to go , already! You’re taking things too far!”

He must have just mustered up the nerve to strengthen himself using cursed energy, because finally, he manages to pull you away from Toji. You stumble backwards, losing your balance in the process, but Satoru catches you in his arms and holds you tight, refusing to let you break free again.

Strange. Toji always imagined that the strongest would be elevated above everyone else, detached from reality, seemingly in a world of their own. Like some kind of deity, so to speak. At least, based on the way that everyone seems to worship him.

But he’s actually… surprisingly human. He has someone he cherishes deeply and strives to protect.

Toji isn’t quite sure whether that makes him feel better or worse.

“You’re awfully chatty, even for a kid,” Toji remarks. He stares down at the candies you just placed in his hand, but rather than handing them back to you or tossing them aside, he just shrugs and places them in his pocket. “You asked what my name was, didn’t you? It’s Zen’in Toji. You and that boy both belong to the Gojo Clan, so you must understand what this means. Our clans despise each other. Even if I agreed to help you, do you really think they would allow such a thing?”

Right. You remember that was briefly touched on in the series. It had something to do with the former clan heads having killed each other in the past. The Gojo Clan and the Zen’in Clan have some particularly bad blood between them.

Then again, the past is the past. What’s done is already done. There’s no point in worrying about something you can’t change.

You must constantly face forward, towards the future .

Toji can’t possibly understand it, and neither can Satoru, for that matter, but it’s okay. You’ve already decided that this will be your burden to bear. So, yeah. You could care less about a petty feud between clans. It’s nowhere near enough to deter you or keep you from accomplishing what you’ve set out to do.

“Yeah. I’ve heard about it. I know that the Gojo Clan and Zen’in Clan don’t like each other,” you say.

Toji nods. “Good. So, that means you understand how—”

“I don’t really care, though.”

“...what?”

“I don’t care,” you repeat, and Toji can’t help the way his eyes widen. “How is it my fault that something like that happened a long time ago? It’s not like I was involved. It’s not like any of the people still alive today were involved either. Honestly, most jujutsu sorcerers are stupid. They care about stupid things and look down on others just because they don’t align with what they think is right. They can be upset if they want to be. I’m not trying to become stronger because I want anyone’s approval. I’m doing it because it’s important to me. So that I can protect the people I care about and make a difference. Even if others still consider me to be weak, based on their first impression of me… it’s fine. Because I’ll know they’re wrong. And that’s enough.”

It really is absurd. What are you, six, seven years old? You’re just a kid. You’re supposed to be naive and ignorant to the harsh reality of the world.

Yet, ironically, you sound more mature and clear-minded than any of the shitty, elitist adults Toji has ever known.

This time, he really can’t help it.

He laughs.

“Haha… ha!” Toji throws his head back, eyes squeezed shut, as the laughter rumbles up from deep inside his belly. It’s honestly cathartic. He can’t remember the last time he laughed this hard. In fact, he can’t remember the last time he laughed at all .

Satoru pulls you even further back and shudders. “Ugh. This guy seriously gives me the creeps. [Name], I’m telling you, he’s bad news.”

“If he wanted to hurt me, I’m sure he would have already done it by now,” you shrug.

“What kind of reasoning is that…?”

“Ah, that’s funny,” Toji keeps on laughing. He pauses to wipe the small tears that have formed in his eyes, then grins. “I didn’t know kids could be so entertaining. You seem much smarter than I initially gave you credit for. You’re probably smarter than the entire Zen’in Clan. Those bastards can’t even tell the difference between a head and an ass.”

“Now he’s even comparing heads and asses,” Satoru whispers in your ear. “I’m starting to think he might be a pervert, too.”

Toji slowly turns away. “Don’t change your way of thinking. It’d be a shame. You’re right that jujutsu sorcerers are all a bunch of idiots. This whole world they’ve built up is a joke. Like you said, they refuse to acknowledge anything that doesn’t align with their own beliefs. They’re all pathetic, narrow-minded scum.”

Wow. Is Toji really venting to you right now? Meeting Satoru was one thing, but surely, you could never have been prepared for something like this .

It makes you happy, though. If it brings him even a little bit of relief, you’ll gladly listen to him complain, over and over again.

“Goodbye, strange little girl,” Toji chuckles. “[Name], you said? I’ll remember it. This day turned out to be unexpectedly amusing.”

“Oh. You’re leaving? But… you never answered my question,” you frown. “Will you help train me? Or at the very least, will you try to consider it?”

Toji is already walking away, waving you off with the back of his hand, and Satoru will be damned if he lets you chase after him again.

Still, all things considered, this encounter went a lot better than you thought it would. It was a long shot anyway. At least you tried.

What you don’t realize, however, is that Toji is still thinking of his meeting with you, even by the time he returns back to the Zen’in estate. He remembers your words from before, and as he passes by several clan members, somehow, their scornful looks don’t bother him quite as much as they used to.

It’s a momentary reprieve, but he’s grateful for it.

“Are you… Toji?”

Toji turns his head. He’s sitting out in the courtyard, and a child has just walked up to him. He seems to be having lots of encounters with children today, for whatever reason. Although this child isn’t entirely unfamiliar to him. He recognizes him based on his appearance. After all, he’s the one rumored to take over as the leader of the clan one day. The youngest son of Zen’in Naobito. Naoya.

Toji doesn’t bother responding. He just stares at him, with a sharp, unwavering gaze, and Naoya immediately freezes up.

Truth be told, Naoya came here to mock Toji. He planned on finally seeing for himself what the infamous man with no cursed energy was like. He wanted to get a glimpse of his sad, pitiful expression. To ridicule someone weaker than him.

Except Naoya can’t seem to do that, because just by looking at Toji, he can tell.

This man is strong .

Toji eventually turns away, still without uttering a single word, and Noaya watches as Toji pulls out the candies you handed him earlier. He stares at them, then chuckles. He isn’t unwrapping them to eat them or anything. It’s also strange that the coldness in his gaze has suddenly disappeared. His expression looks a bit more gentle now.

Naoya swallows the lump in his throat and awkwardly approaches. “Is that candy? Do you… like sweets?”

“Hm? No, not really.”

“Oh. Then what’s the candy for?”

Toji continues staring down at the palm of his hand. The silence feels unsettling to Naoya, especially because of the immense pressure Toji constantly exudes, but eventually, another chuckle can be heard.

“This isn’t just candy,” Toji muses. “It’s… a down payment.”

No matter how hard you try, there are bound to be some instances where things don’t work out the way you want them to.

Based on how Toji walked off without giving you a proper answer, naturally, you figure it’s a done deal. It’s disappointing, of course, because you dared to imagine a world in which Toji doesn’t go on to commit atrocities, but not everything can be changed. Not always.

You’re in for one hell of a surprise, though.

“...he’s here,” Satoru mumbles one day, seemingly out of nowhere. You watch as his eyes widen, and he turns his head towards the entrance of the estate. “That man we met a while ago. The one with no cursed energy. He’s here .”

“What?”

You can’t quite believe it—at least, not until you walk past all the buildings and see him with your own eyes.

Once again, Toji stands in front of you.

“Yay, Toji! You really came!”

Without even thinking twice, you run up to him and attempt to wrap your little arms around his broad frame. Toji stands there, looking slightly taken aback, but he doesn’t try to push you away, and that has to count for something, right?

Satoru, however, looks like he’s about to throw a fit.

“[Name]!” he fumes. “Why are you hugging that creepy old guy? It’s inappropriate! And besides, you should only be hugging me !”

Despite Satoru’s protests, you continue to cling to Toji, because even if he’ll never admit it, you know that he could really, really use a hug.

Satoru mashes his teeth together in frustration, and he even shakes his small fist in the air. Which is probably intended to be a warning, but he’s ridiculously cute, so it’s not too effective, in your opinion.

Naturally, all of this commotion draws other people towards the source, and soon, you find yourself surrounded by several Gojo clan members.

One of them gestures to you with a frown. “[Name]? Who is that man? Why did he just show up here all of a sudden?”

“You fool. Can’t you tell just by looking at him?” another clan member mutters in distaste. “He… has absolutely no cursed energy. And that scar across his lip. It must be him . The failure of the Zen’in Clan. Zen’in Toji.”

The atmosphere shifts all too suddenly. Everyone’s expressions are laden with disgust. Not only because of the general disdain sorcerers have towards those deemed as ‘weak’, but also due to the fact that he’s a Zen’in. In the eyes of the Gojo Clan, that’s the worst possible combination.

Toji chuckles as he pats you on the head. “Not quite the welcoming I was hoping for. It seems not everyone is as friendly as you are, [Name].”

Honestly, you can’t even really focus on the tension right now, because Toji just patted you on the head.

Hehe. I’m happy.

“State your business,” one of the clan members mutters. “You should know better than to show up unannounced.”

“Well, that’s rude. Especially when I’m here to do one of you a favor.” Everyone blinks, clearly in disbelief, as Toji peers down at you. “Right, [Name]? Didn’t you ask me to help train you before?”

“R-Really? You’ll… actually do it?”

You marvel at the sudden declaration. Of course, the clan members are becoming more infuriated by the second, and Satoru doesn’t look too happy about it either. He actually looks like he’s itching to kick Toji in the nuts.

A clan member steps forward, teeth bared. “Under no circumstances will a member of the Zen’in Clan have any part in—”

“Shut up,” Satoru glares. “Let [Name] speak. I want to hear what she has to say first.”

He turns back towards you, and even though he clearly has his doubts about Toji, for your sake, he might be willing to give him a chance.

“Well? Are you sure you really want this guy to train you? Does it have to be him?”

You look up at Toji. Admittedly, his character was far from innocent in the canon series. He chose to abandon his son and become an assassin. Nobody forced that life upon him. Ultimately, his demise was his own doing.

But it probably wouldn’t have happened if only he’d been accepted in the first place. If only he hadn’t been treated like an outcast and made to resent the world he grew up in.

Even though you might not succeed, you’re going to try and help him.

“Yes,” you nod emphatically, hugging Toji even tighter than before. “I don’t want anyone else to teach me. It has to be him.”

Satoru sighs. He wishes you didn’t have to make things so difficult. He’s never had a friend before, but ever since you stepped into his life, he’s been worrying about you practically nonstop. You’re honestly quite the hassle.

But then again, you’re worth it.

“And are you going to train her properly?” Satoru asks, now addressing Toji with a stern gaze. “I’m telling you right now, but you’re not allowed to hurt her. Not even a little bit. I’m going to be watching your training sessions to make sure you don’t do anything stupid. If at any point she’s in danger… I’ll seriously make sure you regret it.”

Toji shrugs. “Sure. It would be pretty pathetic if I didn’t know how to hold back against a little kid.”

Satoru stares at Toji for a while longer, eyes narrowed in scrutiny, but you’ve spent enough time with him by now to be able to read his expressions, and you can tell that he’s just about to give in.

Finally, he nods.

“Okay, then. You can train [Name]. I give you permission.”

Your eyes light up, and you even let out a squeal of delight as you excitedly jump in place, still clinging to Toji all the while. He obviously doesn’t react with the same kind of enthusiasm, but as he looks down at your tiny little frame, he finds a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Even if you’re just a little kid, it feels nice to finally be acknowledged by someone.

It would be great if you could just wrap this up on a high note, but of course, things are never that easy.

“Master Satoru,” one of the clan members gapes. “What in the world are you saying? We refuse to condone this. The nerve of this talentless Zen’in trash to even step foot here, let alone insert himself into your lives… it’s ludicrous. We simply won’t hear of it.”

You frown. “But I promised to pay Toji in exchange for him training me. Why is it such a big deal? Clans should be helping each other out, not hating each other. It would be way more productive if everyone cooperated. Isn’t our goal supposed to be getting rid of curses and keeping people safe?”

“You want to pay him? Absolutely not! How dare you even suggest such a thing!”

“Uh oh,” Toji chuckles, messily ruffling your hair. “It looks like they’re getting really angry now. I guess it’s a good thing I decided that I don’t actually need to be paid.”

You blink, incredulous. “You… don’t?”

“No. It’s fine. If doing this pisses off your clan, as well as those in the Zen’in Clan… that’s already more than enough for me.”

A prideful smirk sweeps across Toji’s face. It looks like he wants to stick it to the man, so to speak. He’d much rather get under the skin of those who’ve wronged him than have some extra cash to spend. Well, not that you care exactly what his motivations are. He’s agreed to help you, and that’s already more than enough.

One of the clan members takes a deep, shuddering breath, and in the next moment, you can tell that their cursed energy has spiked.

“ Leave ,” they demand. “This is your last chance. Otherwise, we’ll have no choice but to—”

“Didn’t I already tell you to shut up?”

It’s Satoru, of course. He’s staring at them with an irritable expression, and he even walks up to you and Toji and assumes a protective stance.

“[Name] says she wants this guy to train her, so he’s going to train her,” Satoru mutters. “I’m not too happy about it either, but this is what she’s decided, so I’m going to support her. If any of you have a problem with that, we can just leave. I’ll take [Name] far, far away from here and never come back. I’ll leave the Gojo Clan forever. Is that what you want?”

Neither of them respond, but you can tell that internally, they’re panicking. Sure enough, if Satoru really wanted to, he could overpower everyone here and do as he pleases. There’s no way to force him into anything. All of his diligence towards his training up until now… he’s been doing it out of a sense of obligation, not because he doesn’t have the strength to object. He’s been going along with everyone’s demands because he’s the strongest. Because the fate of the world hangs on his shoulders.

When it comes to you, however, he can be awfully selfish. And everyone in the Gojo Clan already knows that.

“...fine.”

Their faces are bitter, ashamed, and resentful, but nevertheless, they have no choice but to concede. The embarrassment of relying on a Zen’in Clan member is nothing compared to the risk of losing Gojo Satoru.

You smile yet again. So, it’s really happening. You’re not sure how, but you actually managed to pull it off.

From this moment onward, Toji is your mentor.

“I’ll do my best,” you beam, eyes brighter than ever. “I’ll train my butt off, and I promise I won’t ever complain, no matter how hard it gets. You’re going to be super impressed. Just wait and see!”

Perhaps this is nothing more than the silly, idealistic ramblings of an ignorant child. Children like to say all kinds of things, after all. They make big, grandiose promises that they can’t keep. And they constantly exaggerate, making their feats seem larger than life itself.

And yet, Toji feels inclined to believe you.

“Very well,” he chuckles fondly. “I’ll hold you to that, so show me. Show me… how you’re going to prove everyone wrong.”

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razzmatash · 2 days ago

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Not Yet Day 10 - Surprise Visit Love and Deepspace Sylus x f!OC 1431 Words Read on Ao3 banner by firefly-graphics

“Calli, you never mentioned that your boyfriend was loaded!”

Pulling her head out of her scrubs, Calli blinked at the woman that had swung around the lockers to face her. “Huh?”

She rolled her eyes before shaking a finger at her. “Your man. Not only is he good looking but he’s loaded as well?”

“Probably loaded in other ways too,” another voice chirped from the other side of the lockers, causing laughter through the room.

“Where is this coming from?” Calli asked warily, tugging her t-shirt down over her belly.

The other nurse’s eyes widened suddenly. “Oh, you didn’t know?”

“That he’s loaded? I already knew that.”

“Well, you’ll see soon enough!”

“Wait!” she said sharply as the other turned sharply to run away. “What the fuck are you talking about?!”

No answer came and she had the distinct impression that everyone was getting out of the locker room as quickly as they could.

Calli huffed to herself. What the hell was going on? Why would she suddenly mention Sylus like that? She’d never really hid the fact that she had a boyfriend. It would have been idiotic given how Sylus liked showing up to pick her up whenever he could and showing that they were very much together. But she didn’t talk much about what he did or where he came from. It was hard to keep the others at bay but most of them had picked up on the fact that she didn’t want to talk much about it.

Of course, that meant they started making things up. Government secret agent, mafia boss, playboy billionaire. Those were only the latest guesses she’d heard thrown around and she refused to acknowledge that she had heard them. They were having fun and Sylus always thought it was amusing when she told him.

But why would she say that?

Rolling up her scrubs, she tucked them into her bag and hefted it up. She needed to get home quickly so she could start prepping for tomorrow. While she was excited about having everyone over for holiday dinner, she wasn’t sure how it was going to go. So she wanted to get as much done tonight as she could and try to have a good night’s sleep. Then she could be ready for whatever chaos came from dinner.

She pulled on her jacket and started for the door. With any luck, transit wouldn’t be too bad and there wouldn’t be any hassles getting-

“Where are you taking her?”

“It better be somewhere nice!”

“Or maybe you should get her a ring!”

Calli paused at the chorus of voices that sounded suspiciously like the girls she worked with. Peeking around a corner, something odd happened. Her heart somehow sank and leapt at the same time. Sylus was standing near the nurses station, completely surrounded by the rest of her shift. It was them peppering him with questions! What were they doing? And what was he doing here? He’d told her he’d be busy until dinner tomorrow, wrapping up everything he could before they went on their holiday. Had he lied or had he actually wrapped up early?

“She’s deciding where we’re going.” Sylus’ smooth voice reached her, amusement laced through it. “Only she knows if it’s nice or not.”

“But you’re paying for it?”

“I am.”

“You also didn’t answer about the ring,” someone said slyly.

Her heart leapt into her throat and she hurried around the corner. They’d only been together a few months! What were they doing?! She didn’t want them to ask and she absolutely did not want him to answer!

She didn’t know if he heard her or if he somehow felt her approaching but Sylus looked up suddenly. She saw the smile spread across his face before his gaze dropped back down to the other nurses. “A ring?” he mused. “I wouldn’t be opposed but-”

“What are you doing here?” Calli interrupted, jerking to a halt on the other side of the small crowd.

The nurses all spun to face her before they all hurriedly left, saying their goodbyes and holiday wishes. Sylus continued to watch her with a smile, one eyebrow raised at her outburst. “Hello, sweetie,” he murmured, leaning down to meet her.

She reached up and covered his mouth with both of her hands. “Why would you answer that?” she whispered. “They’re just trying to get a rise out of you.”

He caught her wrists and pulled them away from his mouth. “I don’t think I’m the one they were trying to get a rise out of.”

Calli huffed, shaking her head. “But what are you doing here? Did you wrap up everything early?”

Sylus hummed, letting go of her wrists. One hand stroked over her hair while the other threaded their fingers together. “I did so I thought I would come help you tonight.”

And spend more time with you. The sentiment was unspoken but she heard it loud and clear. “I’d like that.”

Another smile before he was leading her away from the station where the girls were still watching them like hawks, waiting for more information. His almost comment on the ring was going to make the rounds but hopefully that would die down by the time she got back. Hopefully.

She gave a little wave as people chirped their goodbyes as they walked past but Sylus didn’t stop to let her talk to them. She didn’t mind. Her thoughts were starting to pile up with all the things they needed to do to prep for tomorrow. It would be a little easier with him there but maybe she could fit in a few more things so they could relax more tomorrow. Maybe-

A small noise left her when Sylus tugged gently on her hand before wrapping an arm around her waist.

“You’re overthinking it,” he said without looking, leading her out the door. “We’ll do what we can and finish the rest tomorrow.”

“But-”

“Kitten, we have time.”

She puffed out her cheeks before sighing. He was right. She’d had enough time when it was just her. With him there, they could finish early, maybe enjoy dinner together before tucking in for the rest of the night. She didn’t say anything as he took her to his car and helped her into the passenger seat. Instead, she just snuggled into it.

His laughter roused her a little bit as he pulled away from the hospital. “Comfortable?”

“It’s better than the bus,” she teased, making him chuckle.

“I should hope so.”

Calli smiled and almost purred as a large hand came to rest on her thigh. “Definitely don’t have that on the bus,” she murmured.

His fingers tightened for a moment. “I should hope not.��

It was her turn to laugh before they fell into a comfortable silence. But he didn’t let it last for long.

“Black diamonds,” he said quietly. “Platinum.”

She frowned, turning to him. “What?”

“I said I wasn’t opposed to it, kitten. Do you really think I haven’t thought about it?”

Her frown deepened. What was he talking about? Opposed to what? What would he be using diamonds and platinum-Calli froze in her seat, staring at him. “Sylus....”

“Maybe I should,” he mused. “It’s just a ring.”

Her heart thumped in her chest, her pulse ringing in her ears. “You....”

He caught her hand and brought it to his lips. She didn’t miss which finger he kissed. “But you don’t let me buy you jewellery,” he continued. “You don’t take it when I try to give it to you. Would you turn me down if I gave you a ring?”

She didn’t know what to say, her thoughts whirling again but going in a completely different direction.

Scarlet eyes slid to her and his lips quirked up. “What are you thinking about to look like that, sweetie? Can’t a man give his lover a gift?”

“But a ring?” she squeaked.

“What’s wrong with that?” he asked smoothly. “It’s just a ring. What do you think it is?”

She didn’t know what to think! Was he serious that it was just a ring because the girls were absolutely not asking about just a ring earlier? Or was he teasing her and actually being serious?

Another look and a soothing squeeze of her hand. “But I didn’t get to finish,” Sylus said quietly. “While I’m not opposed, I know it’s not time.”

Her heart was back to pounding wildly at the mere thought that he wanted that with her. Because she heard the unspoken yet at the end of his sentence.

#12daysofchristmas2024 #love and deepspace #lads #lads sylus #l&ds sylus #sylus #sylus x oc

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familiarscars · 1 day ago

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Lost In Control | Bad Omens | CHAPTER 24

adult content | minors do NOT interact.

⋆ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. Bad Omens X ex-girlfriend and singer!Reader.

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. You and Noah had a difficult ending but you still need to support each other for the band.

⋆ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒). melancholy, ex-boyfriends, difficult relationships, alcohol abuse, swearing, drug addiction, violence.

It's okay to not agree with the characters' attitudes during the fic. It's good to remember that the story is fiction from the author's sick mind and of course they will make dubious decisions according to my fantasies. Nothing is done to be compared to reality.

NOAH

"It's important to stay well-hydrated, eat properly, and maintain a good sleep routine. It’s not like this feeling will disappear overnight, but a lifestyle more focused on your well-being might help…”

My attention was fixed on the hourglass on his desk, the sand sliding down into the lower compartment at a slow rhythm. If I said I was paying attention to anything, I’d be lying. Ever since I walked into this room, I’d been high on intravenous medication and completely oblivious to what was happening around me, slouched in a position in this chair that would surely give me a backache once I returned to my senses.

I didn’t know it was possible to feel even more apathetic.

“I can refer you to regular sessions with a professional—what do you think?” he pressed, trying to regain my attention again. “Your tests didn’t reveal anything I should worry about, but if these symptoms persist, it would be wise to seek a second opinion. It could help, considering your physical reactions are becoming increasingly severe.”

I let out a scoffing laugh without looking at him.

“Do you think I’m losing my mind?”

“I think your body is sending signals that it needs care. That’s common when patients are going through difficult times or even under pressure.” The deeper he delved into the topic, the more nausea churned in my stomach. I sighed as though trying to reclaim air in a near reflux. “Have you experienced anything like that? Feeling trapped in a state of excessive melancholy that seems to take longer to pass with each episode?”

Absolute silence.

“Do you think I’m planning to kill myself?” I asked with irony. “My contract doesn’t allow that.”

“I think it would be wise to take some time off to rest.”

I had a flight with the band in two hours, two festivals over the span of a week in different countries. Resting was only an option in my dreams—and even then, there was a risk I’d be working in them.

“Can I ask you something?” I finally shifted my attention from the hourglass to the man in a lab coat with graying hair behind the desk.

“Of course, Noah.”

“The girl who brought me here—she’s still in the hospital?” I asked carefully, biting down on my lower lip.

The doctor looked at me for a few seconds as if reading my microexpressions or whatever the hell I carried in my eyes. I felt a faint discomfort, but it wasn’t greater than the curiosity clawing at the inside of my skin.

“I can’t say for sure, Noah, but there’s a girl listed as your contact in your file. I’m just not sure if it’s the same person we’re talking about.”

I hated how my body reacted immediately, as though erasing the entire conversation about the studio and clinging solely to the fact that she might still be here—with me. Nothing else seemed to matter, none of the other things I was feeling, because somehow, she managed to give me the false sense that my heart was at peace again.

Like at the studio, when the touch of her hand silenced the chaos in my mind, even if it was just a fleeting truce, since everything came back threefold the moment she moved away.

I must have been losing my mind. I no longer had any awareness of my actions or control over them. I couldn’t filter my feelings, making them even more confusing each time I smothered them with some new, unrestrained emotion.

As I exited the consultation room, I saw nothing but other patients waiting to be seen. Gradually, I let my shoulders drop while I walked, scanning the reception area with slow steps when I didn’t see any sign of her around. What passed through my head wasn’t disappointment—certainly not.

A sudden jolt from physical contact made me turn sharply, my brow furrowing as I saw a girl greeting me with a hug I didn’t reciprocate, keeping my arms stiff at my sides. I blinked a few times before looking down and seeing the fiery red hair on top of her head.

“Scarlet?” I asked, confused.

“When I returned to the observation room, they told me you had woken up and gone to see the doctor. How are you feeling?” she asked sweetly, frowning as I moved her away from me by grabbing her arm.

“What are you doing here?”

“Are you disoriented from the meds? I received you at the hospital on behalf of the record label’s team and have been accompanying you ever since, silly!”

“But…”

Had I been mixing things up? As far as I remembered, it wasn’t Scarlet who had been with me when I arrived here or when the medication knocked me out. But was I coherent enough to argue? My head was beginning to throb again, and my thoughts were as tangled as the sequence of events.

I definitely didn’t remember this particular cut.

“How about lunch? There’s a restaurant nearby that—”

“I just want to go home.” I interrupted while craning my neck to look around.

“Alright, I’ll drive you!” she replied with unshakable enthusiasm, and I let out a deep sigh.

“Isn’t there anyone else who can do that?”

“Noah, you don’t have to be so hard on me, okay? I know you’d rather have someone else in my place, but there’s not much I can do if she didn’t want it that way!” Scarlet’s tone was almost offended as she shrugged. “Let me help you—I promise that’s all I want.”

Meeting her bright green eyes as she fluttered her long lashes, I just turned around and started walking toward the exit. Scarlet sighed in satisfaction behind me, following like a duckling trailing after its mother.

On the way to the car, I tried to pull as much as I could from my worn-out mind, demanding myself to recall the route from the studio and my time in the hospital, but it felt as though a gaping hole had formed in my memory.

“I have good news for you!” she said, tapping her fingertips together as she closed the driver’s door.

“I don’t like people beating around the bush. Be direct.”

“Well…” Scarlet cleared her throat awkwardly. “Bryan has to miss the band’s trips this week, and I’ll be replacing him as the photographer. Isn’t that amazing?”

I was still searching for the “good” part of the news.

“Since when do you need to take band photography jobs?” I asked, perplexed, shifting my gaze to her. “That makes no sense when you make triple the amount from a single modeling gig.”

“I haven’t had as many jobs lately. This opportunity came up, and since you guys already know me from photographing the band’s collection, I took it!”

“Does everyone know about this already?”

"I thought I only owed explanations to you."

"I'm not a solo artist, and changes need to go through everyone in the band first!" I tried to moderate my tone as I turned back to the dashboard.

"Well, my hiring was cleared by Gerard, and now you're being informed about it. I don’t think anyone else is left on my list." She concluded with conviction after adjusting the rearview mirror to see her own reflection.

The girl lowered her sunglasses and started the car, keeping a moderate speed and playing some generic pop music that scratched at my ears.

I was about to open the door and throw myself onto the road at any moment.

At home, I barely had time to sit and breathe before being bombarded with calls and messages about being late to the airport. Moving at the slow pace I was still processing things, I threw a few pieces of clothing into a backpack and called a taxi to meet up with the band as quickly as possible.

"Hey, man! How are you feeling?" Folio greeted me at the entrance with a light slap on my arm.

"I'm fine," I replied, forcing some enthusiasm into my voice as I followed him. "You seem excited to travel."

"And when am I not?" he said as if it were obvious, raising his hands in the air. "I thought we were all eager to get back on stage after some time."

"You're right..." I felt like I couldn’t say the same. "I am, too."

In the boarding line, I bit the inside of my lips as soon as her perfume arrived first in the air, infecting everything in the blink of an eye as if it wanted to suffocate me. From the corner of my eye, I saw her stop behind me, wearing sunglasses and focused on a piece of paper she was holding, her long black-painted nails adorned with rings she rarely took off.

"What are you doing here?" I heard her voice and turned to see she was speaking to Scarlet, who had taken a spot behind her.

"Didn't Noah tell you?" the red-haired girl replied with raised eyebrows. "I'll be accompanying the band as a photographer."

"No, Noah didn’t tell us..." She smiled slowly and turned to look straight at me. Every word she spoke to Scarlet didn’t require the slightest eye contact—she directed her harsh words while fixing me with a furious glare. "I didn’t know he was hiring just anyone to keep his girlfriend around."

"What are you talking about?" I asked, lowering my voice as if each word pierced my brain, my headache still relentless.

"Listen here, girl, you respect me because I am not just anyone!"

She laughed, covering her mouth with trembling fingers before recomposing herself and gliding her lipstick-coated lips together.

"Thank you so much for the info, sweetheart! Good luck keeping an eye on him backstage."

Like a furious storm, she delivered her acidic words while brushing past me, heading toward our friends up ahead.

"I find her so rude," Scarlet muttered with a dissatisfied grunt. "No wonder if she's high, acting so full of herself."

"Why don’t you just shut up?" I snapped, cutting her words short with a cold sideways glare. "If you found a way to insert yourself into the band through work, then do it. Pretend the rumors about my personality are true—don’t talk to me, don’t sit next to me, don’t ask me for anything, and definitely don’t meddle in my life. I sincerely hope I don’t have to hear your voice until the plane lands, or I’ll ship you off to an island in New Zealand."

"But Noah—"

Before Scarlet could say anything else, I turned my back on her and followed the rest of the team. Fortunately, I was so exhausted that the rest of the trip seemed to promise immediate sleep.

On the plane, however, my mood worsened even more when I realized I’d been assigned the worst seat possible: right behind Ruffilo and the others, who were laughing loudly and joking incessantly with her.

Ruffilo’s loud laugh cut through the air, and something inside me pulsed with growing irritation.

"Could you all keep it down?" I snapped, sharp enough to silence them. "I’m trying to sleep."

"Sorry, Noah..." Ruffilo apologized, pulling an exaggerated pout. "We were just trying to distract her."

I rolled my eyes. "Her fear of flying will only ease if you let her sit by the window. Acting like clowns won’t help. Now stop bothering me."

An awkward silence settled momentarily, soon replaced by careful movement in the aisle. She swapped seats, taking the one by the window. The light filtering through the clouds bathed her face with a softness that, against my will, held my attention for a few seconds longer than it should have.

Her expression was tense, her brow furrowed, almost in agony over something as she looked outside, her delicate fingers tapping quickly against the seat’s side. Her scent lingered in the air—subtle, but impossible to ignore.

I caught myself inhaling deeply, without realizing it, before quickly averting my gaze and leaning my head against the headrest, trying to ignore the silent chaos she caused in me.

The landing was turbulent, both literally and emotionally, as I still struggled to fall asleep. The uncomfortable silence during the remainder of the flight was replaced by the team’s bustle during disembarkation, everyone busy gathering their belongings. I, on the other hand, kept my distance from Scarlet, even when she was just a few steps behind me.

We arrived at the hotel, unfortunately crowded with other teams and bands participating in the festival. The marble lobby reflected the golden light of the chandelier, creating an environment that felt suffocating after such an exhausting day.

Ruffilo led the small line at the reception desk, collecting room keys and handing them out. Everything seemed to be going smoothly until Scarlet cleared her throat loudly, drawing everyone’s attention.

"And my room?" Scarlet asked, crossing her arms, visibly annoyed.

Ruffilo hesitated, glancing at the receptionist before turning back to her. "You… didn’t book a room?"

She rolled her eyes. "I thought someone on the team would do that for me."

My patience, already frayed, was about to snap. "And no one thought to tell you that you needed to handle it yourself?"

"Don’t start, Noah," she shot back, her cheeks tinged slightly pink but her tone sharp. "I can stay in your room."

The suggestion—or rather, demand—made my head turn in her direction so fast I felt tension in my neck. "Absolutely not," I replied, my voice firm as contained thunder.

Scarlet raised an eyebrow, defiant. "Oh, what's the problem? I'm not asking for much."

"It's not happening," I emphasized, gesturing toward the group. "Why don't you share a room with the only other woman here?"

The suggestion was logical but caused a pause in the room. Scarlet looked at me as if I had just gravely insulted her, while the girl chewing gum and inspecting her nails smirked faintly, almost imperceptibly.

"Great idea," she said with false cheerfulness, a lightness that contrasted with the tension in the air. "I don't mind sharing a room with you, Redhead."

Scarlet turned to her, clearly indignant. "You must be joking."

"She's not," I interrupted, more firmly than I intended. "Problem solved."

Scarlet huffed, shooting a final look of displeasure before grabbing her things. I watched her walk away, the sound of her footsteps echoing on the marble as she reluctantly departed.

"Did I mention how much I love your grouchy old-man spirit today?" Ruffilo commented under his breath, barely holding back a laugh. "It's rarely this entertaining."

"I just want to figure out what the hell that girl is doing," I muttered, cutting off the joke as I grabbed my key and headed for the elevator.

"Replacing Bryan, right?"

"That's what it seems…"

But I had a feeling Scarlet's presence was more than just coincidence.

After settling into my room, an uneasiness began to consume me. The hotel was too dull, and the day's tension lingered in my head like an endless echo. I decided to head out in search of something to eat—anything to get me out of that oppressive atmosphere.

I called a taxi, and as I waited at the entrance, the cold night air brought momentary relief. As soon as the car arrived, I opened the door and got in, giving the driver an address I vaguely remembered seeing in a travel magazine. Before the taxi could leave, the opposite door suddenly opened, and a familiar figure climbed in without hesitation.

"Of course," I muttered, already exasperated as she settled in beside me with a mischievous smile.

"How lucky for me," she said, feigning enthusiasm. "Sharing a taxi with the devil himself."

"Seriously? Can't you take another one?" I asked, already considering opening the door and getting out.

"I'm already here; there's no way I'm letting a ride pass by," she retorted, fixing her hair as if that would end the argument. “Besides, I’m looking for a place to eat. What a coincidence, huh? Hey, where's Scarlet?"

"Perfect," I muttered sarcastically, leaning back against the seat and looking out the window, trying to ignore her.

The ride was silent—on my part, at least. She seemed quite pleased to tease me with remarks about the city, the driver, and even how I always seemed grumpy.

When we finally arrived at the address, I got out quickly, eager to rid myself of her. But, unsurprisingly, she followed right behind me, the sound of her boots echoing on the sidewalk.

"Why are you getting out?" I asked, turning to face her.

"Because I decided to eat at the same place as you," she replied with a challenging smile.

I rolled my eyes and started walking, but soon noticed something strange. The address I had chosen… didn't seem right. There was no restaurant in sight, just old buildings and poorly lit streets.

"Are you sure this is the place?" she asked, glancing around with raised eyebrows.

"Of course I am," I lied, though the discomfort was evident in my voice.

"Oh, then where's the restaurant, genius?" She crossed her arms, tilting her head at me with a look of fake patience.

"Maybe it's around the corner," I replied, pointing randomly and starting to walk, even though I wasn’t certain.

"Or maybe you just have no idea what you're doing," she quipped, following me.

"You didn’t have to come," I shot back, spinning on my heel to face her.

"And you didn’t have to get us lost," she countered with a shrug.

The argument escalated quickly. Our voices echoed through the deserted streets as we argued about whose fault it was—mine, for choosing an address without checking, or hers, for insisting on tagging along.

"You think you know everything, don't you?" she exclaimed, shaking her head.

"And you think you have the right to meddle in everything," I retorted, pointing at her.

She opened her mouth to reply but was interrupted by a distant sound—something metallic, like a gate slamming shut. We both fell silent immediately, the atmosphere now much quieter and stranger than before.

"Great," she muttered, glancing around again. "Now we're lost on an empty street and probably about to get mugged."

"If you’d stop complaining for a second, maybe we could find the place," I replied, trying to ignore the growing unease inside me.

But deep down, I knew she was right. The night was only getting worse.

The sky began to shift slowly, the bluish tones giving way to a deep orange that soon turned into an oppressive darkness. What once looked like deserted streets now carried an unsettling aura. The buildings and sidewalks disappeared, replaced by empty lots and sparse trees. The silence was broken only by the sound of our footsteps, which seemed louder with every second.

"What’s the matter, Noah? Afraid of the dark?" she teased, wiggling her fingers, though her voice trembled slightly, betraying her growing discomfort.

"Stop being pathetic!" I snapped, forcing sarcasm to mask the anxiety creeping over me.

The real trouble came when my phone vibrated one last time before dying completely.

"Perfect," I muttered, holding the lifeless device in my hand.

She glanced at her own phone and made a face, letting out a dry laugh. "Mine’s almost dead too. We’re out of GPS, no taxi, and no idea where we are."

"Oh, so you’re just now realizing this was a terrible idea?"

"You brought me here!" she shot back, arms crossed like she owned the moral high ground.

The argument continued as we walked, but the energy was draining along with the daylight. The jokes and taunts gave way to irritated grumbles and, eventually, to an uncomfortable silence. The cold began to set in, making her rub her arms and mutter something about how much of a waste of time this all was.

That was when we spotted a structure in the distance, partially hidden by the trees.

“Is that a house?” she asked, her voice tinged with doubt.

“Sort of,” I replied, eyeing the weathered, timeworn structure. It was small, with cracked walls and windows boarded up with planks.

It looked like it had been abandoned for years, but at least it offered shelter.

“I can’t believe I’m going in there,” I said, taking a step back.

“Great. Stay out here and see how much you like the freezing wind,” she shot back before pushing open the slightly ajar door.

The inside was no more inviting than the outside. The wooden floor creaked with every step, and the smell of mildew and dust filled my lungs. There were only two rooms: one that seemed to be the main living area and another that might have been a bedroom. Unlike me, she was enthralled, poking around at everything from the walls to the furniture and even amusing herself by sniffing the abandoned food in the fridge.

I hated how she could turn any situation into a joke.

“Do you think it’s safe?” I asked, following her hesitantly.

“No idea. But it’s better than staying outside.”

I scoffed, glancing around with disdain.

“So, what now? Are we setting up camp here and waiting for sunrise?”

“Maybe. Did you bring a tent? Because there’s only one bed, and I’m not sleeping with you, Mr. I-Snore-All-Night.”

“Funny,” I said mockingly, throwing a dusty pillow at her. “I don’t snore anymore.”

The tension between us kept building, every word dripping with irritation and exhaustion. My heart was pounding harder—not just because of the situation, but because of her presence, so close yet so infuriating.

“I feel like you planned this just to get some alone time with me!” she accused, her eyes gleaming with anger. “At the very least, I expected a less exotic location.”

“Disappearing your body behind this house at sunrise is still an option.”

“I definitely deserve more than being dumped in the middle of nowhere!” she declared haughtily.

“I can’t believe I have to spend the night under the same roof as you! I’d have preferred being mugged outside.”

“Then go back out there, Superman!”

Our bickering echoed off the empty walls, the anger making the discomfort almost palpable. Yet, in the midst of our insults, a sound from outside cut through the tension.

A low rustling, like leaves being stepped on.

We both fell silent immediately, our eyes darting toward the open door. The air grew heavier, and for the first time since we left the hotel, I felt something close to genuine fear.

“Did you hear that?” she whispered, her voice finally stripped of sarcasm.

“Yes,” I replied, my gaze fixed on the darkness outside.

Something was out there.

And, for the first time that night, our argument ceased to matter.

⭑ @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard ; @iluvmewwwww75 ; @anarchydomainglory ; @foliosgirl ; @lacy1986 ; @chey-h ; @supersquirrel1996 ; @zozaline ; @just-randomm-stuff

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ghostieblr · 2 days ago

Text

Definitely Not Adorable Behavior

based on a reel i saw on instagram lol. changed the narrative a bit to fit the characters.

Stiles' eyes track Merlin's, towards the corner of the massive ballroom, where two men are standing with their hands crossed against their chest. Their side-profile are almost identical: crisp, tailored black suits, accentuating their biceps, broad shoulders, and tantalizingly shaped body figures. Even their heights seem to be the same; the only notable difference from this angle is the color of their hair: a dark, deep, raven onyx versus a golden halo.

"They're arguing about something."

"Yes," Merlin sips his drink, the one he's claimed several times into the evening to be a disgusting piece of beverage, and winces. "I don't know why I keep drinking it."

"That's because Arthur brought it for you," Stiles tells him with a knowing smile. "And you won't deny him the pleasure of serving you, no matter how awful the taste might be."

Merlin looks at the gaudy, unneeded, and entirely unnecessary piece of diamond ring that Derek gifted him for this evening. It's almost the same size as his engagement ring, and it sits prettily enough on his left hand's pointer finger. Merlin catches his eye with a gentle smile on his own face.

"Arthur and I share something special," he begins, voice lilting into the foreign accent Stiles hasn't been able to place yet. It sounds like Welsh, but different than the one he knows. Older. "For a long time I thought my devotion to him wouldn't be reciprocated, and it was fine. I was fine with it. But as always, the clotpole had other ideas." Clotpole. What the hell does that even mean? Merlin's chuckle brings him back to what he is saying, "—told him, and so, now Arthur thinks he must make it up to me."

"Or he just loves you very, very much, but has awful taste."

"That, too."

They'd turned towards each other for the conversation, the din of the hall loud enough to keep it private from prying ears, but now they turn. Someone just gasped, and they're both most definitely into drama from the sidelines.

"Oh my god."

"Are they— ARTHUR!"

"DEREK SEBASTIAN HALE!"

Both men freeze. The old lady who gasped turns to look at them, as does the rest of the room, but Stiles isn't paying them any heed, and neither is Merlin. No. Their focus is entirely on their idiots.

Arthur's left hand is fisted at Derek's tie, and his right hand is frozen near his waist, crooked fingers looking for purchase. Weirdly, Stiles likens this action with looking for a sword in its scabbard, tightened securely near hips.

On the flip side, Derek's got his right hand centimeters from Arthur's nose, while his left one must be aiming to intercept Arthur's sword-hand or whatever.

And their faces. Oh Jesus Christ, their faces.

Red with anger. Mouths open in a feral cry of war. And eyes? Stuck on Stiles and Merlin, fear melting their rage.

Both him and Merlin stride towards them, Merlin's glass of questionably purple drink handed to one of the catering staff, and it's as if their movement reminds Arthur and Derek that they're caught. They jump apart, though they do share a look of commiserating grief over being caught.

Bastards. United against spousal anger.

Merlin and him don't say anything in this hall with interested ears and human eyes and multitudes of equipment ready to immortalize this scene; they simply take their respective husband's hands in their own and drag them out towards the parking lot, which happens to be mostly empty. Still, they go in deeper towards a secluded corner.

Once there, Stiles stares their Derek down, hands back at his sides. Merlin does the same.

"So? Care to elaborate what the fuck that was about?" His question is met nervous breathing and another commiserating look. "Oh, so now you're both buddy-buddy, but inside the hall you two were — what, enemies?" He snorts. He can't help it; Derek and him have faced literal monsters, and yet Derek was about to fight a posh, young man for... some reason?

Before either of them can speak, Merlin narrows his eyes. "Wait. Was this a ruse?"

"A ruse? What do you mean, Merlin?"

"Your royal pratness, by that I mean a very elaborate scheme to leave that dull place with questionable drinks and—"

Arthur's face goes from confused to dull. "Did you not like the Favor?"

"Favor?" Merlin question's, and Stiles shoots Derek a look to shush. Why the hell is he finding this so funny?

"That's what the drink was called. And it was purple. It wasn't nice? So I..." Arthur's gaze turns wide. "And you still drank it all! I even brought you a second glass of it, why didn't you tell me you didn't like it?"

Merlin rubs the back of his neck, a sheepish gesture. When no answers seem forthcoming from him, Stiles steps in.

"It was thoughtful, I guess, since I'm gonna assume purple and that name means something to you both?" They nod in assent. "Right. See, thoughtful gifts are nice... but not always. Like, maybe you like it, but Merlin wouldn't. And it's not a bad thing at all, you just need to communicate."

Merlin rolls his eyes. "Says the man who hates the diamond ring gifted to him."

Stiles hisses, "Hey!" at the same time Derek asks, voice small, "Stiles?"

He turns towards his husband, moves closer. "Hey, it's nice. It's a very good gift."

Arthur says, weirdly with glee, "Which you don't like!"

"I love the thought behind it though!"

"But you don't like it," Derek repeats, eyes on Stiles', daring him to lie again.

Stiles cups his face, rubs his thumb against his stubble. "No," he admits. "I don't."

"I think we have gone a bit off-track here," Merlin says, after a while. Stiles turns to see the other couple in a similar position: in an almost-embrace, an intimate moment shared. "Why were you two at each other's throats?"

A third look is shared between Derek and Arthur. Then, Derek says, "It was about what that lady asked us."

"Yeah."

Merlin and Stiles wait for further elaboration, one which doesn't come. Now they share a look, and take a step to move away from their respective embraces. That, apparently, does the trick, and Arthur continues from his monosyllable answer, neither of the men letting Merlin or Stiles leave their personal space in the process.

"She asked us, 'What's the most expensive thing you've ever eaten?' and we told her. We disagreed at each other's answer, though."

"This was done over a trivial question? Derek. What the hell."

"I wonder how bigger your head can grow, Arthur. Really?"

Derek leans in close to him and tells him, in almost his Alpha voice, "My answer was you."

Stiles blinks. Huh? "Huh?" And then, "Oh my god—"

"And I said you," Arthur adds. "Of course, my Merlin is more expensive than your husband."

"I said this, and I'll say this again: Stiles is literally wearing the most expensive set of clothes right now on this side of the coast, he's wearing two diaomond rings, and that's just today's outfit."

Both Derek and Arthur push him and Merlin behind them, and move closer to each other, gearing up for a fight. Again.

"Unappreciated gifts don't count, and my husband is wearing a neckerchief made of the most pure gold, and that's just one of them!"

Stiles and Merlin look at each other.

"I had no idea this suit was that fucking expensive," he tells the man, who is eyeing up his own neckerchief in betrayal.

"You said this was just the color gold!"

"Merlin, we're leaving. Let's go."

"Yes. They can duke it out between themselves, while we enjoy this evening with people who tell us the truth."

They turn around, and start walking back towards the ballroom. Behind them, the fight never occurs. Instead, pounding footsteps follow them, and really, this evening did not go how Stiles had envisioned it to be.

(Lydia tells them a week later that "Derek Hale and Arthur Emrys begging their partners for forgiveness in the charity gala" is still a solid opening hit for a conversation, and Merlin rolls his eyes before his eyes glow gold and his favorite chips appear in his hand.

Because apparently, they're the Merlin and Arthur: Magic itself, and the Once and Future King.

Stiles' own eyes glow a deep purple, and both him and Lydia now have their favorite drinks in their hands.

Meanwhile, Derek's authority and Arthur's ego clash over something else equally trivial in the kitchen. Hopefully their bickering won't get in the way of dinner.

If it does... oh well. A Spark and The Sorcerer can cook something, can't they?

And no, both him and Merlin have decided that in no way, shape, or form, are they telling their husbands that the fact that their arguments occur mostly over being the 'better husband' is adorable. Nope, never, ever.)

#derek hale #stiles stilinski #arthur pendragon #merlin #bbc merlin #sterek #merthur #merthur fics #sterek fics #*sterekficrecs #*merthurficrecs #crossover!#sh.writing #sh.writesonmain

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