#possibly Another One in Strange Fake

[vampirerite]

it's funny browsing dantes stuff and there's the assumption that there's 2, maybe 3 of him, meanwhile I'm counting around 5

[florencemtrash]

Club Rats and Cigarettes: Part I

Azriel x Modern Reader

Summary: When Azriel stumbles into a new world with his brothers, the last thing he expects to find is a mate. But she has a hell of a way of making a first impression, and Azriel can't help but fall in love with someone who feels familiar in a strange world.

Warnings: Violence, mentions of drug use

Masterlist of Masterlists

Author's note: I had a thought. I wrote it. Here ya go!

Y/n leaned back against the motley wall covered in indie movie and band posters 10-layers deep. Humidity caused the paper to lift away from the brick, curling like steam off coffee before being frozen in place by the next slather of paste. Y/n felt the sharp, glue-soaked edges poke through the mesh of her shirt. 

Looking left and right she saw a few stragglers heading towards the club — three girls huddled in fake-fur coats with freshly-shaved legs trembling in the October air, and a group of college boys dressed in the same jeans, sneakers, and pale collared shirts. They flickered in and out of the darkness as the streetlights hummed with the effort of keeping their failing bulbs alight. A handful of skeletal cars sat beside busted parking meters or half-hidden in the employee parking lots of the closed down street. During the day when the restaurants were open, inoffensive jazz battled it out with the reggaeton blaring from the trendy taco joint at the end of the block, and Kpop dancers pressed themselves against the screens posted by the corn dog restaurant’s windows, neon lights announcing that they were “OPEN!” But right now the neon was just another sad shade of grey. Even the sky’s colors were muted by packed clouds threatening rain. 

Music shook the pavement, but it came up from the sub-basement club deep and muffled. Y/n felt its vibrations pass through the soles of her boots, up her stocking-clad legs, and into her chest where her heart rumbled like a car without a muffler. 

A flash of flame revealed her glitter-coated cheeks and cobalt-blue eyeshadow. The color slipped and slid across her skin still tacky from club sweat until it was a pale wash of blue extending up to her temples and down to her cheekbones. A cloud of smoke covered her soon after as she lit her cigarette between nail-bitten fingers. A fresh coat of black polish glittered like stones, already chipping towards the tips. Menthol crisp bled into her lungs along with a breath of cold air perfumed with car exhaust and day old restaurant grease. She licked her lips and found that she did not mind the taste of lip gloss, mint, and char. 

Out of the corner of her eye she saw a boy with salt-white hair and shy, bent shoulders slink over to her trying to make himself as small as possible. “Can I bum a cigarette?” He asked, shockingly polite despite the black band t-shirt that read “Anarchy now!” and the careful spikes gelled into his hair and tipped green and black. 

Y/n wordlessly held out her pack and he plucked one out before hesitantly reaching for a second. She held out her lighter next and soon there were two plumes of smoke wafting into the air as music faded in and out with each body that passed through the rusted paint doors. Drunk giggles followed voices hoarse with drink and screaming. Heels clicked down the street, some heavy as a bass drum and others high and piercing like castanets. 

A quick flash of lightning splintered over the sky, followed seconds later by a dull crash like furniture toppling over. 

“One mile,” The boy said, leaning over. He smelled like bleach, aftershave, and surprisingly, cherries. The overly sweet ones that came out of a jar and decorated the tops of ice cream sundaes. 

“What?”

“You can count how far away lightning is from the thunder. Every five seconds between lightning and thunder is one mile.” 

Another flash painted the sky purple followed shortly by crumbled eruptions of noise. 

“That one was close by.” 

Y/n took one last drag before putting out her cigarette on the wall. The paper smoldered and was scarred black, but never burned. “Guess that’s my cue to go back inside then.” 

The boy nodded, smiling and looking her up and down a little too closely. Then his eyes sharpened, red-rimmed and squinting, as he glared into the street beyond her. 

“Do you see that?”  

Y/n twirled around on her heels, staring down the street to where it ended in shadow. It looked… darker than it should, although she couldn’t explain why. Like she stood before the throat of an animal. The darkness seemed to pulse and writhe, muscles clenching down on invisible meat. Then she felt stupid for having listened to him at all. 

“Don’t fuck with me,” she growled, pushing the salt-haired boy aside and slipping back inside the club. 

The music and heady scent of perfumes, cologne, and sweat punched her in the face, and she remembered why she’d chosen to stumble outside to begin with.

She moved in between bodies sparkling like disco balls, stealing body glitter as she went. She felt the tiny particles stick to her skin, tacky with sweat. Someone’s hand brushed against her wrist, but she swatted them off, pressing forward in search of her friends. She didn’t trust them to stay still, not in a place like this, nor did she trust them to check their phones, so she just kept searching the packed dance floor. Raised platforms crowded with plastic couches and spray painted tables hit her at eye level, but none of the platform heels and combat boots looked familiar. She thought a head of red corkscrews might have belonged to Cecelia, but it was only the changing lights reflecting off bleach blond hair. 

She dipped into the corner where a line of scantily clad girls with lanky legs waited for the bathroom. Ducking beneath the overhead speakers helped dull the noise, and if she climbed up two rungs of the barrier surrounding the DJ’s booth like a fighting ring, she could make out more of the crowd. Four stationary spotlights lit up the corners of the club pulsing red, blue, pink, and purple. A man in leopard print briefs was climbing onto one of the poles there, shredding his policeman’s shirt down the center as a woman in a zebra-print coat eagerly shoved a handful of dollar bills into his underwear. A drag king had his hot pink fedora knocked off by a drunk college student stumbling towards the bathrooms with a hand over his mouth. All over there were faint pinpricks of light followed by subtle releases of vape pen air, adding hints of watermelon and strawberry to the air. 

It was because she stood half-hanging off the DJ’s booth that she caught sight of the three men that entered one after another like the mob. Dressed in all black, they were better suited for a funeral than a club, save for one thing… their wings. 

Y/n blinked in confusion. There had been flyers hung up around the library and grocery stores about some anime convention being held in the city, but this place was a little out of the way for hardcore cosplayers. The most severe looking of the three lifted his nose to the air, then stumbled back in shock. As the strobe lights passed over his awe-struck expression, Y/n caught the glint of knives sheathed across his chest and at his side. 

Fuck. She looked up to the booth, but the DJ and the guys in ripped t-shirts bobbing their heads around him didn’t seem to notice. 

“Hey!” She dropped back onto the floor and tapped the shoulder of a barrel-chested man with the word “security” printed over his shirt in all caps. “I think those three guys brought knives in here.” She pointed in their general direction with one chipped, black fingernail. 

“The fuck?!” He gently pushed her aside, shouting something into his earpiece as he shoved his way into the crowd. People took a second to read the sign on his shirt before parting to make way for him. One guy with bright pink hair and studded lips even tried to kiss him on the cheek as he passed. 

Suddenly, this corner of the club didn’t seem so safe anymore. There was a splash of pale light on the floor as a bottle girl in a black leather catsuit slipped out of the kitchens. She swayed her hips back and forth, a bottle of tequila swishing in its frost-rimmed bottle against her hip. She moved up the stairs to the platform where a private bachelor party was going on, heels clicking like beetle wings rubbing together. Y/n slipped into the shadows closer to the kitchens and waited for someone — anyone — to answer the text she’d typed out with shaky fingers. 

Azriel had never heard music like this before. He didn’t even know such a sound could exist. Someone had weaponized the bass tones so it felt like a punch to the gut. A male’s deep voice, grainy and harsh, was indistinguishable from the crashing of cymbals and a strange, high clang that skittered over steady drums like a stone over water. Through layers of sound he could just make out the soft sighs of a female as she tried to tie the chaos together with her voice. 

All around him were sweaty humans decorated in shiny, colorful clothes that sparkled as they spun and jerked about. He stood a head above most, although every so often a male or female in eight-inch heels would pass by at eye level, looking him up and down like he was a meal and they were starving. 

“Hey there handsome.” Someone had found the courage to slink up to Cassian’s side — a male with pupils blown open wide enough to swallow his pale blue irises. There was alcohol on his breath and something else, something sweet and bitter at the same time. The human male smiled, teeth white and straight. Azriel had never seen a human with teeth so perfect. He was handsome — wiry and slim with a flush to his cheeks that accentuated the smattering of freckles across his tan skin. “Did you come here alone?” Rhysand and Azriel’s presence did not seem to deter him. “Did you want to leave here alone?”

Cassian sputtered in surprise. He’d never been propositioned by a male, let alone a human one. 

“I’m-I’m a mated male.” 

The male raised his brow, taking full stock of the skin-tight leathers Cassian wore. He took a deep drag of an oddly shaped pipe that lit up in the dark. “Ok. If that’s what you’re into.” A cloud of smoke spilled from his mouth — the source of the sweet and bitter smell on his lips. His eyes slid over to Rhysand, who only smirked and stuck a hand into his pocket. “And you? It doesn’t look like you’re into the leather stuff.” Then he seemed to reconsider what he’d said, looking between Cassian, Rhys, and Azriel like he’d figured out the final piece of the puzzle. He blinked in surprise, tipped back his head, and laughed. He was still laughing as he turned and walked away into the crowd. 

“What the hell was that?” Cassian asked. Azriel shrugged, shaking his head. 

“It’s a strange place we’ve landed in,” Rhysand remarked, although the comment was unnecessary. “I expect the strangeness touches everything here. Even the people.” He marveled at the scene before him. The only comparable place in Prythian was Rita’s, but even that paled in comparison to the sight before him. 

Rita’s was a pleasure house with music and drinks to spare, but everything here was… more. The music was louder, the smells an assault to the senses, and the lights changed every second and made the dancers flicker in and out of existence. Even the people seemed to have more substance to them, more color. 

Azriel loved it.

He loved the uneven floors that sucked at the bottoms of his shoes, the pulsing lights that made his eyes swim, and the sound blaring in his ears that drowned out all other thoughts. And something in the air smelled crisp and sweet to him, despite all the other competing scents that had Cassian and Rhysand wrinkling their nose in distaste. 

He strained his neck to catch better hold of the scent. His shadows clung to his body like children, hiding in the folds of his leathers. This world was not made for them, and they worried that if they strayed too far they would be left behind. 

Amren had warned them that this world was different, that its magic was different. But she hadn’t been here in thousands upon thousands of years. Who was to say what had changed in her absence and what had stayed the same?

Get in. Find what you need. Get out. Had been Nesta’s command before strumming The Harp. That’s how the three brothers had found themselves at the end of a narrow lane with boxes of metal and brick on either side. The club had been a logical next step — it was the only establishment that still whispered of life in the otherwise dead neighborhood. 

One shadow dared to explore the club, slipping past a broad-shouldered man with a scowling face and sniffing at half-full glasses of liquor with bright umbrellas laying against their salt-coated rims. Then it had caught sight of something that had it scurrying back to its master. 

Mate. The lone shadow hissed into Azriel’s ear. Mate. 

Azriel’s fluttering bird heart dove into his stomach, carrying with it all reason and restraint. There was no possible way… no. No? Right? 

Az? Rhysand steadied his brother as he stumbled back. 

She’s here? Azriel breathed. If it weren’t for his powers, Rhysand would never have heard the soft sigh escape Azriel’s lips as he searched the crowd desperately. Azriel tipped his head back, breathing in the comforting scent that held new meaning. My mate. She’s here.

What?!

Azriel ignored Rhys and dove into the crowd, head swiveling this way and that as he tried to find a familiar face he’d never seen before.

Az! Wait! But his brother was gone, and the crowd closed over the empty space he’d left behind like a healing wound. 

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Rhysand cursed. 

“Hey man! Where did you get your wings? They’re fucking awesome!” A plump male with cornflower blue hair and matching eyeliner piped up from behind Cassian’s back. Cassian whirled around in anger, feeling the ghost of a finger slide down his spine. No one touched his wings without his say. No one. 

The male startled back in fear. Upon seeing Cassian at his full height, he cowered against the wall, clutching a crinkled red cup against his chest. Cassian blinked in surprise. The male was wearing a black and white dress, the starched apron and collar crisp and clean. 

“Someone call the police. Now!” Someone hissed behind him.

“What seems to be the problem?” Rhysand spoke coolly. At the moment Cassian turned back to Rhysand, the maiden-male scuttled away and upstairs into the cold night. Rhysand examined his fingernails, an action that had the guard’s ruddy face turning white as he saw they were armed to the teeth.

The male’s arms hung loose and ready at his sides like two boulders, fists opening and closing slowly. “You guys need to leave. And before you say anything — I don’t give a shit if those weapons are fake or part of some Halloween costume, you can not bring them here.” 

“What fool would carry fake weapons?” Cassian asked seriously. 

The male’s face lost even more color. “Out. Now.” 

“There’s no need for—” Rhysand’s brows shot towards his hairline, violet eyes flickering up like a cat’s. Cassian, I can’t control him. 

His brother’s eyes widened. What do you mean? 

His mind — I can’t get into it. 

He’s only human!

Clearly.

The male moved forward then to grab at the knife hanging from Cassian’s side and on instinct, Cassian swung. His fist met the corner of the male’s jaw cleanly and he sank like a stone, crumbling to the floor. 

A female with glowing white lips nearby let out a strangled shriek, twisting her ankle as she grabbed her friend and sprinted towards the glowing red exit sign. All around her people began taking notice of the guard’s dark shape on the black floor and the two males that hovered over him, knives sparkling in the ever changing lights. 

I had hoped that the humans would not notice, Cassian explained. More alarmed cries erupted around them. He leaned down, carefully checking the male’s pulse. He was still alive, just knocked out cold. 

The music dimmed and then went out completely leaving an empty hole in the air that blew against the back of Cassian’s neck. Overhead lights turned on shortly after, burning with a fluorescence that had everyone hissing in pain. 

Things looked much better in the dark. In the dark no one noticed the sticky stains littering the floor, or the gum wrappers, and plastic straws, and crushed cups; the dusty strobe lights and haphazard paint jobs that left the walls bubbling with air pockets. They were also less likely to notice the three fae in their midst — 6-foot-everything and looking like they stepped out of the world’s most expensive LARPing tournament. It didn’t help that Cassian was kneeling over the man he just rendered unconscious. 

Confusion led to confused panicking, and then plain panic as people began pushing towards the exits in droves. 

I think they noticed. Rhysand looked over the crowd as they fluttered around him, but try as he might, he couldn’t enter anyone’s minds. Not even one. He didn’t like the oily vulnerability that followed, naked and unnerving. 

Cassian slung the unconscious male over his shoulder before he could be trampled beneath pairs of dusty white sneakers and stripper heels. Then it would seem it’s time for us to leave.

Where are you? Azriel cursed at no god in particular. He didn’t know which of them existed in this realm, if any did at all. 

This way. His shadows whispered, urging him towards the back corner of the club.

A battered door swung open and shut to the rhythms of females in skintight leather carrying chilled bottles in their hands. Thousands of signatures had been scrawled against the door in neon paint, and Azriel watched one of the females sign her name — Ava — in bright orange before kissing the door and slipping inside to grab another bottle. 

Just to the right of the door stood another female in ripped stockings. Bright blue glitter painted her eyes and cheeks. She bounced back and forth on the balls of her feet, playing with a hole in her sleeve as she held a shiny black box up to her ear. 

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN YOU ALREADY LEFT?! I’M THE DESIGNATED DRIVER!” She yelled into the box. Her eyes kept shifting over the club. Her lipstick, already blurred from time and dancing, smeared further as she bit her lip. A swipe of her sleeve on her cheek left a faint trail of plum-colored lipstick. She slammed her finger down on the box and for one moment, the glow it let off shot across her eyes. She looked close to tears. 

Azriel froze, feeling a pressure in his chest tighten and then burst apart. He felt her fear — her anger at being abandoned by her so-called friends. It was more overwhelming than the music. If it weren’t for the thin crowd of strangers in front of him blocking his path, he might have dropped to his knees and crawled to her. 

Mate. The bond sang in his chest. Mate. 

Screams broke through the music, high and panicked, and the magic of the moment crashed all around him. The darkness broke, harsh white light colliding with them and rendering the glitters and colors the humans adorned pale and lifeless. But not his mate. She sparkled brighter in the resulting chaos, eyes narrowing in a dare as she caught Azriel staring. She was a prey animal ready to bolt. A worm preparing to turn and reveal its teeth. 

Sharp cracks of plastic on linoleum rattled the ground as leather-clad women sprinted for the kitchen door brandishing empty bottles like weapons. Y/n raced after them. 

The door flapped shut behind her before Azriel had the sense to move his feet and follow, calling out, “Wait! Please!” 

He was doing this very poorly. He knew better than to chase a female like this. Sickness twisted in his stomach as he slammed into metal doors and ran through hallways crowded with glass bottles, aluminum cans, and wrinkly lemons stacked precariously in wooden crates. 

To your right. A shadow whispered in his ear.

Azriel slid to a stop in front of a heavy metal door, its edges frosted over with cold. 

It locks from the outside.

Azriel ripped the door off its hinges and was blasted in the face by a wave of cold. Frigid air curled out of the edges of the room and slithered over the floor like smoke. A young female in a pink tutu yelped in surprise and dove for the corner of the room, hiding behind racks of beer bottles. It wasn’t his mate. 

She was just a frightened female who’d hidden in the fridge, not knowing she was trapping herself in the process. 

“Here.” Azriel said, quickly ripping a coat off the wall hook and tossing it towards her. She reached for it with shaking hands and lips, mumbling out a confused “Thank you?” as Azriel turned and hurried away. The door was no more. She could walk out of the freezer whenever she pleased now. 

Azriel chased after his mate’s scent, stumbling through grey, blank hallways that belonged to the insurance company next door. He strained his ears to hear the tell-tale pounding of her boots, but came up empty. A dull red light told Azriel to “EXIT” as he pushed against a door groaning from rust and disuse. 

He was outside once again, breathing in car exhaust and restaurant refuse.

And something sweet. 

He heard the rush of air a second too late. 

A bottle slammed into the side of his face, cracking and cutting his skin. Tequila washed over the wounds. It burned like a bitch. 

Azriel didn’t let out a groan of pain, but he did stumble, landing on his right knee with a twinge of soreness.

The female — his mate — stared at him in horror as blood began to pool at his temple and drip down the line of his jaw. She held the shattered neck of the bottle in her hands. Her shoes were gone, toes curling against the pavement with cold. 

Gods, she was beautiful. 

Cassian was a blur of movement, knocking the bottle out of her hand and wrapping his arms around her arms. She screamed, squatting down before shooting back up and locking her knees. The top of her head slammed into Cassian’s nose. A brutal, bloody crack had Cassian stumbling back, gripping his nose.

“FUCK!” He swore. 

She whipped around and sprayed a mist in his eyes that had him cursing like a madman and slapping the palms of his hands over his eyes. 

“FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!” 

Rhysand stepped forward and cornered her against the wall. Violet eyes glittered with something bordering fury and amusement. 

“No.” Azriel moved between Rhys and his mate before she could spray him too. “No one touches her.” 

Rhys backed up immediately. This is her?

It’s her. 

He could hear her heartbeat quicker than a rabbit as she flattened herself against the wall, holding her spray out in warning. Cassian moaned in annoyance, wiping the tears that kept leaking out of his eyes.

I do not like the humans in this world. Cassian complained, sniffling. Even his nose burned.

As if Nesta wouldn’t have done this given the chance. Rhysand said. 

…I see your point. Cassian muttered. 

Be careful around this one. 

Because she’s a menace?

Rhysand smirked, flicking dust off the sleeve of his jacket. Because she’s Azriel’s mate.

Cassian straightened. His eyes darted back and forth between Rhysand, the blood dripping from Azriel’s head, and the human female. 

Oh. Cassian thought, suddenly embarrassed. We have… not made a good first impression. 

You think?! Azriel all but growled. 

Her fight or flight response was running out — her energy draining. She could feel it in her leaden limbs and the faint slowing of her heartbeat as the three men kept looking around like they were seeing each other for the first time. 

And they kept looking at her in mixtures of shock, concern, and — surprisingly — affection. 

What sick fuckery is this? She dug her fingernails into the brick, searching for cracks like she might be able to pull out a piece and throw it at them, or find some hidden portal through the wall and back into the safety of the inside. 

Were they going to kidnap her? Was she about to be shoved into a bag and tossed into some dingy trunk? But then why the wings? It was too dark to see them in their entirety, but they looked meticulous and expensive and very memorable — not ideal for kidnapping. Was this a LARPING thing? Were they Satanists? Was that how this worked?

The one in front turned. The one she’d attacked with a bargain bottle of tequila. The blood had stopped flowing and darkened against his tan skin. Hazel eyes, bright and piercing as a copper penny, looked out from a face made of elegant, serious lines. His was not a face that smiled often, beautiful as it was. The burly, rugged one looked like he was made for laughing. Smile lines gently graced his cheeks and temples. But maybe those were scars. He sported many of them, like pale whiskers over his skin. The third was the most put together of the three. Instead of strange, leather armor, he wore a suit of velvet over something stiff and protective that hugged his trim waist and broad shoulders, and his eyes were violet, not hazel. 

The elegant, unsmiling one coughed awkwardly, shifting to hide his wings. Shockingly, they slid closed behind his back, the movement so smooth it looked real. 

“I am…” His voice was a deep, gentle caress. “I am so very sorry. I did not mean to frighten you as I did. Please, forgive me.” He was… alarmingly polite, and his accent was… pleasant, although impossible to place — all soft rolls of the tongue complimented by the rich timbre of his voice. “ Please.” He spoke the last word quietly, urgently. 

Y/n said nothing. Her arm was beginning to get sore from holding out the bottle of pepper spray. Although, it can’t have been that effective if the rugged one was already recovered. Maybe it had expired without her realizing? 

“My name is Azriel,” the man spoke again quickly and gently. Even his name sounded odd. “And this is Cassian—” He pointed to the burly one,“And Rhysand.” The last of the men tilted his head in a mock bow. 

“A pleasure.” The violet-eyed one said. Rhysand’s voice was weighed down with sultry charm. He purred the words more than spoke them. 

“Pleasure,” Cassian copied, gruff but kind. 

Y/n remained silent. Somewhere in the distance, sirens wailed. The pretty one — Azriel — stepped forward and pulled out a sleek, small blade from the belt about his waist. Y/n was about to spray him in the face when he twisted the blade so that the handle faced her.

“This will do more damage than the little bottle you carry,” he promised. “I hope this will make you more trusting of me. I swear to do you no harm. I’ll even make a bargain, if it would make you trust me long enough to explain.” His wings twitched nervously and Y/n found she couldn’t draw her eyes away from them and how real they looked. 

The three men kept looking at each other furtively. Conversations, complex and unknowable, hide in every twitch of their eyes.

“Speak out loud,” Azriel snarled at them finally. “You’re frightening her.” 

Rhysand smiled apologetically at the female. “We need to leave. Now. You can hear the humans coming as well as I can.” 

Y/n bristled at that, and a detached feeling of horror came over her. “Are you not… are you not human?” 

Cassian gawked at her, speaking his wings out far and wide. “Do the humans of this world have wings?” 

She sputtered to answer, fear giving way to curiosity. Azriel took advantage of that, moving close enough that he slid the blade into her hand. It was a cool, welcome weight against her hot, sweaty skin. Up close she saw he had freckles dotting the high corners of his cheeks and that his hair came alive with dark tendrils of smoke that wafted off his skin like steam. They wrapped around her and she heard their strange whispers in her ears like white noise. 

“We’re not human. We’re not even from this world.” The sirens were only a block away now and Azriel swore beneath his breath. More of those dark tendrils shot out like shadows and dulled the noises of incoming fire trucks, cop cars, and EMTs. “I swear to you that I will explain more, but we must go. Please.” He took hold of her wrist, angling the blade he’d given her right beneath his last rib. 

It was a dramatic declaration — if she wanted to kill him and run away, he would let her. 

Y/n swallowed thickly, her mind thick with fog and the dying embers of adrenaline. “I—I parked a few blocks down that way. I can take us somewhere else.” 

Azriel breathed a sigh of relief and she pulled away from him, taking with her any shred of comfort he’d felt since coming to this world. 

Somehow they managed to walk the quarter of a mile to her car without being stopped once by another living soul. She suspected it had to do with the shadows that now poured off of Azriel’s skin and trailed after her. She could feel them licking at her heels like curious dogs… or blood thirsty wolves. 

She gripped the knife tightly in her hand, stretching her fingers to wrap around the steering wheel as she drove through familiar roads on autopilot. Azriel watched her curiously as she stopped at a red light and clicked her blinker on. 

None of the men looked comfortable squished into her tiny sedan, wings tucked in so tight they cramped. Cassian’s boot was stretched out on the center console, almost reaching the gear shift. Rhysand was hunched over in the back seat, pressing his forehead against the cool metal of the headrest in front of him to keep from getting sick. 

“What is this cursed thing?” He grumbled, then promptly shut up when Y/n took them down a local road with craters that had them jolting and jerking for a mile. “This metal box… I do not like it.” 

Azriel and Cassian ignored their brother. Az was too busy paying attention to his mate and politely explaining the complexity of their situation, and Cassian was too busy looking out the window at the houses that passed by. He could hear the unfamiliar hum of electricity like a dragonfly's wings. 

By the time she pulled the sedan down a beaten road to a quiet, homely one-bedroom house, her mind was swimming with words and phrases she could barely string together — Koschei, fae, Illyrians, seers. It was worse than when she’d spent two all-nighters cramming for an exam in college fueled by nothing but Red Bull and desperation. 

Before the keys were even out of the ignition, Rhysand was spilling out of the car and breathing in gasps of clean, woodsy air. Gravel crunched under his feet. Once this road had been paved, but time and weather had broken up the asphalt until only chunky black rocks remained. Green grass, not yet killed off by Autumn frost, grew in uneven tufts up to Y/n’s squat, brown-sided house, skirting around the makeshift garden in the backyard before disappearing into the woods beyond. Neighboring homes inched as close as they could to the main road, half-submerged in golden brown trees that trembled in the wind. 

The porch steps creaked, flexing in the center like backs ready to break, but they’d recently been cleaned and painted over with a fresh coat of white. The front door had been given similar treatment, although it was painted green. A small Autumn wreath hung from a nail. 

Y/n fumbled with the keys, fingers shaking and numb from the cold. 

“Here,” Azriel murmured, gently taking them from her. His shadows could have unlocked the front door in less than a second, but he was in no mood to test his mate’s patience and understanding. The fact that she’d driven them to her home in the dead of night was testament to the uneasy trust she’d placed in them. 

A disgruntled meow greeted them as they filed into the short and narrow entryway. Cassian bumped into the entry dresser with his wings and nearly jumped out of his skin when the dark monstrosity that sat by a ceramic dish full of rings hissed. 

It was the fattest cat Cassian had ever seen. 

Acidic yellow-green eyes narrowed at him, as if sensing his judgment, and the cat’s whiskers twitched along with its pink button nose. 

“Jefferson, be nice.” Y/n reprimanded the cat, scooping up its rotund body into her arms. The cat swatted her shoulder once, then consented to being held. He did not like strangers in his house, even if they were Y/n’s guests. “This is Jefferson.” She looked behind her back to the rest of the house. “And this is my home.” 

She busied herself preparing for her unexpected guests. She scoured the bathroom closet for spare toothbrushes, towels, and lotions, and pulled out the thickest blankets she could find. One person could sleep on the pull out couch, the other two would have to fight for the best spot on the floor. 

Azriel watched her as she moved. It was not a large house — it was barely even a cottage — and it took his shadows a short time to familiarize themselves with your home. 

A lumpy couch, wicker armchair, and coffee table made up the living room, tied together by a retro rug that may have once been white, but was now a respectable beige. Four mismatched chairs huddled around a scratched wooden table near the kitchen, one of which carried a stuffy cushion that held the imprint of Jefferson’s soft body. 

The cat watched them from the kitchen counter with its piercing eyes, and did not seem at all concerned when a stray shadow wound around its tail. 

Pathetic. All of them! Were the cat’s thoughts. Master will not like this.

His eyes did soften when Y/n returned from her bedroom, arms heavy with blankets and sheets and pillows. Azriel quickly relieved her of her burden, promising that they’d spent nights in worse conditions than a heated house with bedding and clean floors. 

She seemed charmed by that and almost smiled. Almost.

“There’s leftovers in the fridge if you get hungry, and the bathroom’s by the front door. I’ve already put some toothbrushes and towels in there if you need them.”

“Thank you,” Azriel said softly, tilting his head in a faint bow. His brothers followed suit before busying themselves laying out blankets and pillows like they’d done this a thousand times before — which they had. 

Y/n nodded curtly and swept a judgmental Jefferson into her arms before disappearing into her room. Azriel heard the lock click into place and the rummaging of drawers as she pulled out an extra can of pepper spray, a pair of scissors, and the three knives she’d taken from the kitchen. She bolted her windows and drew the curtains closed and even stuffed a towel into the space beneath her doors just in case.  

She was meticulous and careful despite her generosity, and Azriel found himself smitten at her resourcefulness. 

Stop thinking about her and go the fuck to sleep, Az. Cassian grumbled. He could feel the longing dripping off of Azriel’s shoulders. She’ll feel more comfortable if she knows we’re asleep. 

How much would you like to bet she kills us in the night? Rhysand asked, and then seemed amused by the prospect of it. 

I’d worry more about the cat. Cassian chuckled. Then he turned over onto his stomach and was out like a light. Centuries spent in war camp barracks and makeshift battlefield tents had taught him to steal sleep wherever and whenever he could. 

Rhysand was quick to follow suit, although centuries as a High Lord had pampered him just a little. 

Azriel stayed awake, waiting to hear your heartbeat and breathing slow to a comfortable pace. But it never happened. Not even as the sunlight trickled in and touched the light-bleached floors. 

[cosmic-waves7]

could u write karma with a s/o that doesn’t get into trouble? Kinda like an opposite like they’re still outgoing but the type to never skip and only wanting straight A’s and are kinda sensitive in contrast to him? (🫶🫶ur writing is so cute idk if you still write for karmaa aaa!!😭)

Note: I will NEVER stop writing for karma 😤😤😤

Honestly?

He doesn't even really notice you at first.

Another student in class-E, just like any other.

Obviously that is until you managed to score higher than him in maths during exam season.

It started off as a miniature rivalry, very one-sided might I add.

He'd come to you smirking by the end of the next exam with a mark higher than yours only to be surprised when you smile widley and congratulate him.

Every. Single. Time.

Huh?

You're not supposed to do that, your eyes are supposed to burn with determination and annoyance. You're supposed to snatch that paper from his hands and wipe that stupid smirk off his face.

Clearly not.

Its not even a fake smile, there isn't even a hint of malice in your eyes.

It's almost as if you're happy for him.

You don't even know him, not properly at least.

This really changes perspectives for the assassin so now he's shifted into doing everything in his power for your recognition.

Which doesn't seem to be very hard to gain as he notices that you're a bit popular in class.

Not entirely popular, but if students come up to you they'll only get a sweet greeting every time as if they're a long-time friend of yours.

You're basically Koro-sensei's golden child. Wide sparkling eyes every time you put your hand up in class to you answer his questions, he could weep at how adorable you are.

Everyone comes up to you for anything really.

Help with homework, a quick check in, or just to talk. You're always so easy to talk to, so gentle all the time.

Even Itona will quietly chat with you in a corner.

You're just so...approachable.

In Karma's eyes that's unfair. He needs to catch your attention and now.

Maybe to prove something to himself or just boredom, he doesn't need a reason.

So now he's the one asking for homework help. He can answer the questions in his sleep, you know it too.

He's still gonna play dumb, tap you on the shoulder and muster up his best clueless look.

Even in class, Karma has "coincidentally" managed to switch seats to be your desk partner.

You didn't hear it from me but maybe an octopus-like teacher has something to do with that.

Anyway.

Now that you're basically knee to knee with him in class, this allows karma to charm his way into your every day life.

Constantly stealing away your time with anything he can possibly think of.

He'll do this thing where he just wraps his arms around your shoulders and sultry whine into your ear.

"_____, help me please?"

He'll even throw in a pout.

Nagisa has to pry him off of you.

You don't even ask why he's suddenly around you nearly 24/7, you're just glad to be of help really and though you think he's a bit strange he's quite sweet.

A well known charismatic (possible) sadist, but sweet.

Class trip? He's sitting next to you on the bus.

Getting ice-cream? He already knows your favourite flavour.

Study session? You'll need to work together, being the two top students in class it would only be sensible to partner up for academics. This lead to him coming over a lot and vice versa, need to keep those grades up you know.

Spending the weekend at home? Don't be silly, you're flying to the country of your choice on a whim with a certain red-haired 'friend' of yours.

Having rich absent parents really does come in handy sometimes.

But this whole game is tiring him out.

You've gotten close, yes. He's flustered you plenty, yes. But you haven't confessed to him at all!

It's infuriating.

He wants you to like him at least, because he's teetering on the edge of obsession for you.

Because 'friends' don't hold hands all the time, they don't hug longingly or stay up late thinking of the other.

It'll all click in to place when he just goes red in the face, kisses your cheek once and just spews his feeling out like a flood.

"I like you."

"...Oh."

(⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ )

Coughing, he'll look away and pretend like nothing happened while trying desperately to renew his previous charm.

can the ground just open up and swallow him already, oh god.

“I…like you too.” you shyly smile

karma.exe has stopped working

[always-a-king-or-queen]

The ache will go away, eventually. 

That was what the Professor told them, the day they got back. When they tumbled from the wardrobe in a heap of tangled limbs, and found that the world had been torn from under their feet with all the kindness of a serpent. 

They picked themselves off of the floorboards with smiles plastered on child faces, and sat with the Professor in his study drinking cup after cup of tea. 

But the smiles were fake. The tea was like ash on their tongues. And when they went to bed that night, none of them could sleep in beds that were too foreign, in bodies that had not been their own for years. Instead they grouped into one room and sat on the floor and whispered, late into the night. 

When morning came, Mrs. Macready discovered the four of them asleep in Peter and Edmund’s bedroom, tangled in a heap of pillows and blankets with their arms looped across one another. They woke a few moments after her entry and seemed confused, lost even, staring around the room with pale faces, eyes raking over each framed painting on the wall and across every bit of furniture as if it was foreign to them. “Come to breakfast,” Mrs. Macready said as she turned to go, but inside she wondered. 

For the children’s faces had held the same sadness that she saw sometimes in the Professor’s. A yearning, a shock, a numbness, as if their very hearts had been ripped from their chests.

At breakfast Lucy sat huddled between her brothers, wrapped in a shawl that was much too big for her as she warmed her hands around a mug of hot chocolate. Edmund fidgeted in his seat and kept reaching up to his hair as if to feel for something that was no longer there. Susan pushed her food idly around on her plate with her fork and hummed a strange melody under her breath. And Peter folded his hands beneath his chin and stared at the wall with eyes that seemed much too old for his face. 

It chilled Mrs. Macready to see their silence, their strangeness, when only yesterday they had been running all over the house, pounding through the halls, shouting and laughing in the bedrooms. It was as if something, something terrible and mysterious and lengthy, had occurred yesterday, but surely that could not be. 

She remarked upon it to the Professor, but he only smiled sadly at her and shook his head. “They’ll be all right,” he said, but she wasn’t so sure. 

They seemed so lost. 

Lucy disappeared into one of the rooms later that day, a room that Mrs. Macready knew was bare save for an old wardrobe of the professor’s. She couldn’t imagine what the child would want to go in there for, but children were strange and perhaps she was just playing some game. When Lucy came out again a few minutes later, sobbing and stumbling back down the hall with her hair askew, Mrs. Macready tried to console her, but Lucy found no comfort in her arms. “It wasn’t there,” she kept saying, inconsolable, and wouldn’t stop crying until her siblings came and gathered her in their arms and said in soothing voices, “Perhaps we’ll go back someday, Lu.” 

Go back where, Mrs. Macready wondered? She stepped into the room Lucy had been in later on in the evening and looked around, but there was nothing but dust and an empty space where coats used to hang in the wardrobe. The children must have taken them recently and forgotten to return them, not that it really mattered. They were so old and musty and the Professor had probably forgotten them long ago. But what could have made the child cry so? Try as she might, Mrs. Macready could find no answer, and she left the room dissatisfied and covered in dust. 

Lucy and Edmund and Peter and Susan took tea in the Professor’s room again that night, and the next, and the next, and the next. They slept in Peter and Edmund’s room, then Susan and Lucy’s, then Peter and Edmund’s again and so on, swapping every night till Mrs. Macready wondered how they could possibly get any sleep. The floor couldn’t be comfortable, but it was where she found them, morning after morning. 

Each morning they looked sadder than before, and breakfast was silent. Each afternoon Lucy went into the room with the wardrobe, carrying a little lion figurine Edmund had carved her, and came out crying a little while later. And then one day she didn’t, and went wandering in the woods and fields around the Professor’s house instead. She came back with grassy fingers and a scratch on one cheek and a crown of flowers on her head, but she seemed content. Happy, even. Mrs. Macready heard her singing to herself in a language she’d never heard before as Lucy skipped past her in the hall, leaving flower petals on the floor in her wake. Mrs. Macready couldn’t bring herself to tell the child to pick them up, and instead just left them where they were. 

More days and nights went by. One day it was Peter who went into the room with the wardrobe, bringing with him an old cloak of the Professor’s, and he was gone for quite a while. Thirty or forty minutes, Mrs. Macready would guess. When he came out, his shoulders were straighter and his chin lifted higher, but tears were dried upon his cheeks and his eyes were frightening. Noble and fierce, like the eyes of a king. The cloak still hung about his shoulders and made him seem almost like an adult. 

Peter never went into the wardrobe room again, but Susan did, a few weeks later. She took a dried flower crown inside with her and sat in there at least an hour, and when she came out her hair was so elaborately braided that Mrs. Macready wondered where on earth she had learned it. The flower crown was perched atop her head as she went back down the hall, and she walked so gracefully that she seemed to be floating on the air itself. In spite of her red eyes, she smiled, and seemed content to wander the mansion afterwards, reading or sketching or making delicate jewelry out of little pebbles and dried flowers Lucy brought her from the woods. 

More weeks went by. The children still took tea in the Professor’s study on occasion, but not as often as before. Lucy now went on her daily walks outdoors, and sometimes Peter or Susan, or both of them at once, accompanied her. Edmund stayed upstairs for the most part, reading or writing, keeping quiet and looking paler and sadder by the day. 

Finally he, too, went into the wardrobe room. 

He stayed for hours, hours upon hours. He took nothing in save for a wooden sword he had carved from a stick Lucy brought him from outside, and he didn’t come out again. The shadows lengthened across the hall and the sun sank lower in the sky and finally Mrs. Macready made herself speak quietly to Peter as the boy came out of the Professor’s study. “Your brother has been gone for hours,” she told him crisply, but she was privately alarmed, because Peter’s face shifted into panic and he disappeared upstairs without a word. 

Mrs. Macready followed him silently after around thirty minutes and pressed an ear to the door of the wardrobe room. Voices drifted from beyond. Edmund’s and Peter’s, yes, but she could also hear the soft tones of Lucy and Susan. 

“Why did he send us back?” Edmund was saying. It sounded as if he had been crying.  

Mrs. Macready couldn’t catch the answer, but when the siblings trickled out of the room an hour later, Edmund’s wooden sword was missing, and the flower crown Susan had been wearing lately was gone, and Peter no longer had his old cloak, and Lucy wasn’t carrying her lion figurine, and the four of them had clasped hands and sad, but smiling, faces. 

Mrs. Macready slipped into the room once they were gone and opened the wardrobe, and there at the bottom were the sword and the crown and the cloak and the lion. An offering of sorts, almost, or perhaps just items left there for future use, for whenever they next went into the wardrobe room.  

But they never did, and one day they were gone for good, off home, and the mansion was silent again. And it had been a long time since that morning that Mrs. Macready had found them all piled together in one bedroom, but ever since then they hadn’t quite been children, and she wanted to know why.

She climbed the steps again to the floor of the house where the old wardrobe was, and then went into the room and crossed the floor to the opposite wall. 

When she pulled the wardrobe door open, the four items the Pevensie children had left inside of it were missing. 

And just for a moment, it seemed to her that a cool gust of air brushed her face, coming from the darkness beyond where the missing coats used to hang.

[fan-goddess]

A Favourite Service

A/N: Just a drabble about darker!aemond. Could’ve probably made it longer but it is what it is

Warnings: Darker!Aemond, prince regent!aemond, reader is a dragonseed, smutty talk but no actual physical smut,

Taglist: @humanpurposes, @watercolorskyy, @omgbrcat @blue-serendipity @arcielee

Series Thing Masterlist

Sometimes it hurt to be the Prince Regents favourite.

You do not know why it was so, as the prince didn’t exactly spend his hours telling you why. Instead, he spent those hours between your thighs making them glisten with his spent.

When the prince fell asleep beside you, making sure his arms were interlocked tight behind your back to refuse you the right to leave, you would find yourself debating the possibilities in a strange sort of twisted way to help you to sleep.

When you felt your lowest with your skin damp from a mix of sweat and other unnamable bodily fluids, you’d imagine that the prince kept you because he found you to be the most beautiful maiden he’d ever seen in his life as a noble. But when you thought about it reasonably, you knew it was only because you were the only woman with eyes resembling that of the Valyrian shade of purple within the whole of the silkstreet with light as falling snow hair to match.

It appeared after the sudden desire for dragonseed during the war, the majority of them all fled to Lys where most of their kind walked among everyone else. Yet it seems you never got the call, as soon after the war stopped there was a sudden demand for your unique looking services. The once common exotic had became once more a much rarer sight to behold.

When the true king Aegon demanded to meet you whilst he was delirious on a multitude of substances beyond both yours and his comprehension, he let out a loud deep laugh and claimed that the reason for your own unique shade of eye colouring, as it was much darker than both his and his brothers, was due to your obviously whorish roots.

He spluttered and grinned obnoxiously as he gulped a third goblet of wine down his throat claiming he could smell the sweat and cum staining your skin.

Aemond said nothing while he stood by the corner with a face looking both solemn and bored. Yet when Aegon suggested with another laugh on his wine stained lips that you should demonstrate on him what your usual serving protocol is, as according to him since he was a well regarded patron of the trade he should be able to tell whether or not your services were good enough for his brother.

You looked to the Prince Regent unsure of whose orders to truly follow, and that is when Aemond finally moved from his statue like position in order to demand you to return to his chamber.

And soon as you took two steps away from the closed chamber doors, you swore to yourself that you heard the high pitched pained cries of the true king as he was beaten bloody by his younger, yet taller and more enraged brother.

So it really was no surprise when Aemond burst into his chambers a little time later and as soon as the doors shut, demanded you to strip yourself of all your clothing and to lay yourself arse up on the bed. It was his favourite position you think, as that way Aemond could feel he had a willing wife who loved him, and not some whore on her knees he’d paid to do so.

“Perfect cunt…” Aemond would sometimes grunt behind you, his infrequent words of praise sending a rare bolt of pleasure down your spine which most nights with the prince regent you’d be forced to exaggerate and play pretend too. As no matter how knowledgeable and scholarly the prince claimed to be in front of his much older peers, you knew an inexperienced man when you saw one.

It was a mere stroke of misfortune that the one that had been attracted to you was unwilling to learn about the idea of womanly pleasure it seems.

He had no idea how many times you exaggerated your fake cries of pleasure and clenched down on his cock pretending to orgasm all from his if anything quite average cock. Yet with how many times the prince regent pulled out of you just before he came so he could spill himself on your sweat layered skin you don’t think he cared if you came to begin with. Perhaps he was one of those so called gentlemen who believed women didn’t need to cum, thinking female pleasure to be a myth? Still, you’d never ask no matter how much your curiosity plagued you. Especially when the cries of the firstborn son plagued your mind whilst the prince regents breath taunted the very edge of your skin.

He had never let himself cum inside you when thinking of all the times he’d fucked you, as no matter how many times he would imagine you as a trueborn Valyrian child of his uncle, Aemond Targaryen knew you were nothing but a loosened up whore whose purse is filled daily by the coin of the treasury.

When the time comes for the death of either the true king or the death of the Prince regent, you know either way you will not be safe from the iron thrones wrath. For the true Queen Rhaenyra is still in hiding, with her precious uncle-husband guard dog close to her chest. It’s no secret within your old place of work what the rogue prince did to dragonseeds he came across.

[igotanidea]

2 a.m. visit: Jason Todd x reader

link to the photo in the description, my mouth is foaming....

Summary: Y/N wakes up in the middle of the night to some disturbingly familiar sounds coming from her neighbour apartment.

Warnings: a bit of smut, but nothing too graphic (still MDNI), swearing, and possibly messed up ending.

***

It was 2 a.m. and she was fairly annoyed, knocking on her neighbour’s door.

God damn Jason Todd and his stupidly stupid habits of waking people in the middle of the night!

God damn Jason Todd who was apparently too busy making noises to open up!

“Todd!” she cried out, her rapping becoming more exasperated by a second. “TODD!” she couldn’t care less about the rest of the neighbours, who (with no hard feelings) were probably too old or too deaf to hear her calling. “Open up or I swear I’ll kick those doors”.

Obviously there was something around zero chances of her fulfilling that threat but what else was she supposed to do.

“TODD!!”

“What the hell?!” the door finally opened and the culprit himself stood up in front of her, wearing nothing but his boxers, his upper body exposed, his hair tousled in a perfect mess, his eyes a bit blurry. Clearly, it took him a second to realise that it was Y/N standing at his doorframe, but once he did, his eyes grew wide, he blushed a little and quickly grabbed one of his shirt hanging by the door and put it on it. “Y/N... I…. um….” He stuttered.

“Oh, stop with the fake modesty, Jason. I’ve patched you up too many times to care about you being covered or not.” She almost rolled her eyes at his actions.

“What…. I mean.. um... did something happened?” he mumbled looking at the floor. If only she knew what he was doing merely seconds ago she would probably understand why he was trying to cover himself up so desperately. Thank god, she was clueless, standing within arm’s reach of him, so cute and innocent in that pyjamas and without makeup.

“could you please moan quieter?” she asked, being as straight-forward and blunt as always.

“Wh-what -?”  he could swear he had a mini heart attack the second those words left her lips. Oh, god…. “You-- ?”

“Thin walls.” She muttered.

“I…”

“Hey, it’s okay Jay. Don’t be embarrassed. We all have needs, I get that. But it’s not like I want to be up all night with that soundtrack in the background. However…” she trailed biting on her bottom lip to hide the amused smile showing on her face.

“What…?” Jason was both pale as a wall and red as a tomato.

“It’s quite a progress that I only hear one voice.”

His eyes grew wide once again, looking like a mill wheels. Oh shit, shit, shit….

“Y/N….”

“Sh. Told you, it’s okay. Apparently you got a way for girls to agree with you all the time. Yeah, I heard all those times too.” She winked at him. “But you’re alone tonight, aren’t you? Hope I didn’t ruin a perfectly good orgasm for another woman?”

“Y/N!!”

“What?”

“Stop it!” Shit, shit, shit.

“Why? Those are completely normal things, Jason. We are both adults and everyone else here is deep asleep, so what’s the problem?”

“YOU are my problem!” he cried out, pulling the shirt closer to his body, trying to hide something that was becoming terrifyingly visible. Fuck, she had no idea …

“Me?” Y/N frowned “Why me? Don’t be silly we are friends, I won’t give away which girl caught your attention. Besides, I didn’t hear you groaning any names so…” her casual shrugging almost made him yell in frustration. How could she possibly be so cool about everything, unfazed by the strangeness of the situation, while he was almost crawling out of his skin due to the mixed feelings?

“Fuck that!” he finally hissed and much to Y/N’s surprise grabbed her wrist and pulled her inside the apartment in the accompaniment of a single surprised cry.

“Hey! What’s with the passive aggression? I didn’t lock my flat!” poor girl tried to bypass him, but apparently Jason was dead set on making it impossible for her, standing in her way, his muscular frame blocking the exit.

“shut up!” he hissed, clenching his fists and it took her by surprise. Yes, she saw him pissed off before. Yes, she knew he was short-tempered and had anger management issues, but this? This was something different. Like he was walking on the edge, barely controlling himself but still fighting against blowing up in her face. Key word being barely.

“Jason….?” She stuttered taking a step back, bumping into table and almost throwing down the lamp. “Calm down… please…”

“Calm down?! The fuck am I supposed to calm down when you come here saying things like that to me, acting all innocent and pretending that you don’t see what you do to me!” he shouted taking as many steps forward as she was taking back.

“What I do to you?” she repeated, being completely oblivious to everything that was happening inside and outside Jason.

“Don’t pretend to be stupid!”

“HEY!”

“You do this on purpose!”

“Do what?! I don’t….holy shit!”

Mhm. Yes. You guessed it. She finally saw what she had been doing to him. And it was both exciting and disgusting. Jason was her friend! Her neighbour for god’s sake! A man who had different girl in his bed almost every night. Or every other night. And now… now he was clearly ready to make her one of his booty.

“Oh, no. No. No!” she scoffed “No way in hell.”

“Y/N…” Jason hissed, the way his body was reacting on having her so close was becoming painful. He took another step forward but she stopped him with putting a single finger up.

“Don’t! You dare move an inch. Why on earth do you have a hard on while …” she didn’t finish the sentence, her face dropping. “Oh… fuck… please tell me you didn’t …”

“Y/N….” he tried again, this time way more desperately.

“Oh my god… you did.” She gasped, her mind going into overdrive. “You did, didn’t you?”

“Please, just listen to me…” Jason Todd was whimpering like a dog, feeling like a total looser, embarrassed, humiliated, ready to crawl back to his grave and die because of the look she was giving him at the moment. It was never supposed to happen. She was never supposed to know or – god forbid – experience. It was supposed to be a secret. Closely guarded. To put it lightly, Jason was cursing himself for opening that stupid door in the first place. He foolishly believed that one round with imaginations in his head would be enough, but clearly it  was not.

“Just say it! Come on, just admit it!”

“Fine! Fuck! Fine! I was thinking about you! Happy now?! I was thinking how it would be like to have you! To touch you, to kiss you, to hold you, to take you! Is that what you wanted to know?!”

“Damn Todd…”

“I can’t control it, even I wanted to! And the reason you didn’t hear any names through that fucking wall is…”

“No! No, don’t you dare saying it!” she rushed at him, putting her hand on his mouth, shutting him up.

The sudden contact, given the context of situation, was probably a mistake, since her touch sent shivers through Jason’s body and his eyes flashed dangerously with desire. Y/N was playing with fire now. The fire she was capable of starting so easily but unable to put out. And she knew it. And, being the perfect contrast to Jason’s burning, she froze at the spot.

They were standing in front of each other, in a dark apartment, Jason in boxers and shirt hanging loose from his body, doing nothing to hide those tons of muscles and Y/N in her pyjama, which was doing pretty much as little.

Slowly, mindful of every single muscle twitch she put her hand down, her eyes never leaving his. It was almost as if she was hypnotised. Or shocked. Or both.  Her mind was screaming at her that Jason was her friend. Her friend. And it was unwise to ruin years of knowing each other just because she had the sudden urge of feeling the weight of his body on hers. Because for some unknowing reason, despite the fact that she saw those muscles and those scars so many times before, helping him with his injures, he never found him hotter than at that moment.  Because the picture and imagination of his hands on her, his mouth on hers, kissing, biting, licking, tasting and exploring every inch of her skin, was doing so many things to her, she had to bite her bottom lip to stop the moan, arising inside her. Y/N heard a lot of girls through that wall and she knew Jason was more than skilled in the art of love making and pleasuring a woman. And despite all her morals and inhibitions the craving of him giving her a little demonstration was becoming unbearable.

That was not the plan.

That was definitely not the plan.

But she was just a woman, who hasn’t been touched in a while and her neighbour/ best friend, was apparently (and visibly) more than ready to help fight that touch starvation.

Shit.

Her gaze landed on those perfectly sculpted abs, chiselled chest, strong arms… Her mind started wondering of what it would be like to be gripped by them so tight it would leave hand shaped bruises, what it would feel like to be left breathless due to the pressure of his body pushing her into the mattress, to lose her voice while calling his name, feeling him in the most intimate way possible.

Shit.

She tried to not look at his face, to avoid those green eyes filled with lust. For her, for her body, for her moans, the taste of her lips, the feeling of her skin under his fingertips.

Oh, yes, she tried so hard.

To the best of her abilities and her  obviously unwavering values.

She even tried to move back to run away from her own needs, which, ironically, she called normal a few minutes ago, while standing at his doorframe.

Funny how the tables turned, cause now she was all hot and bothered, feeling like a freaking prey while Jason was the hunter. And given all his Red Hood skills, he was not going to let go before getting the bunny he’s been chasing.

“I want you.” He whispered with that hoarse, low voice, making her take a sharp breath, almost catching in her throat. “I want you…” he repeated, appearing right next to her in a split second, grabbing her by the waist, pulling her to him, one of those perfectly thick thighs pressing between her legs in a way that made her buck her hips forward, wetness soaked her pyjama pants, her core craving friction. “Babygirl…” Jason whispered in her ear, brushing lips over her earlobe, and cheek, his breath burning her skin as he moved to nibble and lick the soft spot on her neck with his obviously trained tongue. Y/N could only fantasise what it would do in some other place.

“Jason…” she moaned.

“Yes, princess….” This was not a question. He didn’t have to ask what she wanted cause he already knew, probably even better than she herself could express. “Say yes… come on, sunshine. Let me make you feel good. Let me show you the pleasure you never knew before.” He kept caressing her, hands finding a way under her pyjama shirt, travelling up, feeling her soft skin, moving up to her breasts, not covered by bra, almost touching them, but leaving her wanting and needing.

“how are you so cocky now…?” she gasped, her body squirming when he pressed her into a wall.  “you weren’t so self-assured a minute ago.”

“I must be doing something wrong if you can still think logically…” he smirked, reaching fingers up under her shirt, brushing over her boobs, causing another shudder. “Say yes…” he grabbed her tighter, showing all the man attitude. “Just say yes, baby…”

“Fuck… shit…” his thigh was pressing into her core invitingly and she wanted nothing more than  to brush against it, but he was effectively preventing her from doing so. Little bastard wanted to be in control and to break her.

“Not even close, baby…” he nuzzled his nose in her hair, breathing in the scent of her shampoo mixed with the smell of her skin. “I want you… you want me… you can make it easy with just one word. Come on…” he started tracing the letters of said word on her waist, scratching gently, adding to her arousal “Y-E…”

“YES! Ok, fuck, yes, yes! I – mhp!”

She didn’t get to finish the sentence when his lips finally crashed on hers, hands grabbing her waist lifting her up and holding tightly against him, her back pressing into a wall, her legs wrapping around him. Each of Jason’s caress and movement was an entire declaration of the feeling that he had kept hidden for months, trying to suppress his affection for Y/N with multiple one night stands.  

In a blink of an eye, his shirt was gone and Y/N was tracing over his skin, seemingly in the same way she’s been doing while cleaning him after patrols, but in fact, completely differently.

This whole situations was completely different, emotions and hormones running high and wild, out of any control, not that either of them wanted it.

No.

No, fuck the control. All they needed was the release, the sweet feeling of being with each other in that perfect, unfiltered, unadulterated way. No hesitation, no inhibitions just all the feels, even if they had no idea what they were doing, but also at the same time, moved with purpose, heading towards a specific goal.

Hands, lips, tongues, teeth, muscles.

Fingers tangling in hairs, hot, ragged breaths, mouth whispering love letters on skin, the urge to be even closer than physically possible.

Just them two in their bubble in dark room in a dark apartment.

Full desire.

Full pleasure.

The warmth of the other’s body, shivers of lust and excitement all over.

“Jason…” she whispered, letting go of him for a second to allow him to take her sleepwear off.

“Y/N… Y/N… oh, mine, mine…” Jason might have read hundredths of books in his life and had a vast vocabulary range but at his moment, he was only using body language, the only word on his mind was her name. HER name.

“Please…” she whispered, grabbing him tighter, running nails down his back. “Please…” she begged for the release, craving the feeling she’s been missing for such a long time, grinding on him, aching.  

“Oh, princess, I’ll give you everything you want. But I want you in my bed first.” He smirked, pressing his lips to hers again, tasting her, while carrying her to bedroom, kicking the doors shut the second they reached the destination. “you’re the queen, I’m not taking you against the wall, baby.” he threw her on the bed, immediately climbing on top of her, spreading her legs and diving into her core perfectly, without even trying.

It was like they were made for each other.

“More…oh, more…”

“Yes.. yes, more… everything you want, baby. Everything you need from me. Everything.” He whispered into her ear, giving justice to all her fantasies from before. “Sing for me, my angel.”

Heaven is not a place. Heaven is a person.

And Jason was hers as much as she was his.  

***

When she woke up next morning at first she couldn’t recognise the place she was in. But the sheets smelled like him and she smiled to herself, remembering the last night, what they did, how many times and in how many ways they explored their bodies, breaking the laws of biomechanics and flexibility in the process. Who would have thought that you can fit as many things in such little amount of time.

There was still this pleasurable tingling on her skin in the places where he kissed and touched and devoured her. Hopefully he felt the same given all the crazy things she did for him.

And speak of the devil, her night-time hero walked right through the door with a sleepy expression on his face and with the perfect bedhead, curls falling into his face.

“No breakfast?” she teased, noticing his empty hands “what happened to treating me like a queen?”

“Hm…” Jason muttered in response, blushing ever so slightly “are you asking for more of it? I’m more than ready for it, but figured you’d still like to walk…”

She laughed a little when he jumped on the bed next to her, resting head on arms, looking at her lovingly, melting her heart.

“Hey Jason….”

“Hey yourself, pretty one…”

“Look, I…” she sighed not sure what to do now and how to figure out her own feelings. Jason was clearly head over heels for her and slowly, the guilt and remorse that she had only used him in the moment of weakness and body talk, started creeping in.

“Sh. You don’t need to say a thing.”

“But…”

“Not a thing, Y/N.”  he said again, propping himself up and kissing her temple “I’m just glad you’re here with me. I don’t really need much more…”

Liar.

Of course he wanted more. He wanted her to love him back, to be his one and only, to have her exclusively, to be her boyfriend, with the tiniest amount of luck. But on the other hand he was also desperate and would settle for any scrap of her affection that was more than friend-like. Hoping that with the right amount of patience (which he lacked), stubbornness (which he had in excess) and caring he would get the same confession out of her in the future.

@lightwing-s

[jjkamochoso]

Obviously Oblivious

Fluff

Soshiro Hoshina x gn!reader

Request from Wattpad: "Reader and Hoshina are being so oblivious that they both like each other to the point where this absolutely annoys Mina and Okonogi because they are ITCHING to see both of them together."

Warnings: none

Another mission done, another celebration was happening at Third Division’s base. Though her subordinates were known for their high success rate, Captain Ashiro was pleasantly surprised by just how smoothly the last kaiju disposal went, opting to treat her soldiers with a special catered feast. Thanks to Izumo’s family connections, the chef served sizzling plates of A6 beef and endless amounts of accoutrements for the standard price, making Mina’s soldiers happy and the military budget even happier. Mina captured a piece of meat between her chopsticks, quietly observing the rowdy group in front of her. Konomi Okonogi sat to her right, a steaming bowl of soup fogging up her glasses. Mina stifled a giggle as she watched the girl wipe her lenses with her sleeve, heavily squinting. Satisfied with her work, Okonogi placed the glasses back on her face and blinked a few times, looking around the room. All of a sudden, her eyes went wide.

“You alright?” Mina asked her, noticing her change in expression.

Okonogi nodded, sputtering slightly. “Huh? O-oh, yeah, I’m fine.”

Mina wasn’t convinced, raising her eyebrows at the bespectacled woman expectantly.

“Well, I…” she hesitated before finishing her thought. “Hoshina and L/n are sitting awfully close together.”

“Does that bother you?”

“Yes!” Okonogi exclaimed, Mina surprised by her outburst. Her face turned beet red as she hurriedly explained herself.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Captain! It’s just that their behavior together is strange. Quite frankly, they’ve been getting on my nerves.”

The operations leader took a sip of her drink and Mina’s curiosity was piqued. Having had her own thoughts surrounding the actions of a certain vice captain and officer, Mina was wondering if she finally found someone she could vent her frustrations to.

“They seem to like each other,” she mused, treading lightly in case she misread the situation.

“Like each other?! Total understatement. Those two are hopelessly in love but won’t do a thing about it!” Okonogi complained, irritated.

“I thought I was the only one that noticed!” Mina replied, excited that the woman beside her was the perfect confidant she’d been yearning for. “They drive me crazy with their cluelessness!”

“Exactly! I don’t know how they don’t see their feelings for each other! I mean, they’re blinder than I am without my glasses! It’s ridiculous!”

“I don’t usually condone relationships in the workplace but those two really are perfect for each other,” said Mina, eyeing you and Soshiro as you giggled over something he had whispered to you. It made Mina’s heart soar in her chest seeing people experience happiness in these moments, when the death and destruction you all faced almost every day could be forgotten for a short time.

“Oh my god, Captain.” Okonogi tugged at Mina’s sleeve. “I think Soshiro’s gonna put his arm around y/n’s shoulder!”

“No way,” Mina breathed out, anxiously watching as Soshiro scooted closer to you, if that were even possible. He looked fidgety.

Probably nervous, Mina thought, staring down the lovebirds. Soshiro was ready to make his move. He brought his hand over his mouth—

He wasn’t going to do that. Was he?

“OH MY GOD!” Mina practically yelled as Soshiro faked a yawn, stretching his muscular arm behind you and resting it comfortably on your chair. The room went silent almost immediately, soldiers turning to see what was going on with their captain.

“That food was really hot,” Mina lied, trying to hide her embarrassment behind a napkin. “I’m fine. Everyone, back to what you were doing.”

In an instant it was like nothing happened, rambunctious chatter filling the space once more. You and Soshiro weren’t phased either, easing back into what Mina figured was your previous conversation. Soshiro’s arm was still around you and Mina was relieved that she didn’t jeopardize this huge stride in your non-relationship.

“What a classic move,” Okonogi said, resting her chin in her palm. “If that wasn’t enough to make them realize their feelings, I don’t know what will.”

“Don’t underestimate their ability to be emotionally unaware,” warned Mina, shaking her head. “I wouldn’t be surprised if y/n read that as a friendly gesture. They’re both oblivious to romance.”

“They’ve made that quite clear,” griped Okonogi, observing you holding up a spoon to Soshiro’s lips as he took a bite of whatever you offered him. You were laughing with each other again and Okonogi was confused at how any of that behavior could be so deeply misconstrued as anything other than flirtatious.

“Should we do something about this? I don’t know how much more I can take,” Okonogi said.

“I worry it may be unprofessional to get involved, however helpful our interference might be,” replied Mina.

Okonogi sighed. “You’re right. Besides, it is pretty fun to watch this play out. It’s like a soap opera.”

Later that night, Mina and Okonogi were about to say goodbye to one another after making sure no soldier was left passed out at the dining tables. With dinner cleaned up and everybody walking or stumbling back to their rooms, they closed the door and made their way down the abandoned hallway.

Actually, they made their way down what they thought to be an abandoned hallway.

The two women shared a knowing look when they heard stifled giggles echoing from around the corner.

“You’re always so funny, Soshiro,” your voice rang out, and Mina and Okonogi could only imagine the sickly sweet smile you were giving the man.

“Gotta stay on top of my game to keep ya around,” he teased, and they could only image the lovesick grin he was sending your way.

“It’s getting late. I should get going,” you told him.

“Yeah, you’re probably right. I’ll see ya tomorrow?”

Mina and Okonogi didn’t miss the hopeful lilt coating his voice.

“Of course,” you had replied. “I’d miss you too much if I didn’t see you.”

It took everything within themselves to not slam their heads against the wall. How were you two so… so…

Dumb?!

“That’s it. I’ve heard enough,” Okonogi said, marching down the corridor. Mina had no idea what was about to happen, she just knew she couldn’t miss it. She hurried behind Okonogi, rounding the corner at the perfect time.

“Both of you! You’re driving me insane! Kiss already, dammit!” Okonogi demanded, startling you and Soshiro. She left as quick as she came in, leaving Mina dumbfounded.

“Have a good night,” she told you, hands awkwardly clasped behind her back as she nodded before hurrying away. Recovering from the unexpected chewing out, you glanced at Soshiro, a mischievous gleam in your eye.

“Okonogi’s never given us a bad command, has she?” you asked, hoping he understood what you were getting at.

“Our impeccable Operations Leader has never led us astray, you’re correct,” he responded, his fangs glinting in the dim light. His hands found purchase on your hips while yours rested on the back of his neck, the distance slowly lessening between your bodies. As your lips began to touch his, you realized you owed Okonogi big time for her help.

[mschoiyuki]

Silence

Trafalgar Law x f!reader

tw : angst. angst. angst. just angst. SFW

wc : 5.1k

a/n : Law is a foolish man. Interaction with the Straw Hat Pirates. I'm not good at writing summary, sorry ( •̯́ ₃ •̯̀) And I'm sorry for the grammar error. Actually I've been thinking so hard, should I make it a happy ending or not. But... Oh well...

It's best to read this while listening to :

❆ Taylor Swift - You're Losing Me (From The Vault)

❆ Bruno Mars - It Will Rain

❆ Paloma Faith - Only Love Can Hurt Like This

Enjoy ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

Law used to smile to you like that.

Law used to gave lingering touch to you like that.

Law used to sits next to you like that.

Your heart used to beats faster when you were with him.

But one day, everything suddenly change. You want to ask him why, but sadly you're just his crewmate. Law is your captain. Nothing special between you.

Even though he is your captain, you will give your life for him in a heartbeat. Maybe for Law it's just a natural things to do. Yes, another crewmates will also give their life to protect their captain. What's so special with you giving your life for him too? Nothing.

One day on midnight, it's your turn to on watch. You bump to Law on the hallway. There's some sweet perfume wafts from his body. You clench your fist, greeting him with a smile, "Captain." And off you goes, not wanting to hear any responses from him.

The next week when Polar Tang docked at an island for supplies. You bump at Law again at dawn. You can see a red mark on his neck. You just smile and greets him, "Morning, Captain." And you walk away.

You walk fast to bathroom, letting out whatever it is in your stomach. Slouching on the sink, gripping your arms tightly, you cry in silent. You don't want anybody to finds out.

From that day onwards, you made up your mind. Shoving that feelings deep down, sealing it on your pandora box, throw away the key far far away.

You act like a true crewmate, no feelings attached. Every mornings you wake up, you will perfecting your smile in front of the mirror. You train the muscle really hard, you must to make it as natural as possible. So no one knows it's fake. It has to be perfect.

No eye contact. You will answer Law question short and sharp. Giving your best smile without meeting his eyes.

No lingering touches. You will keep your distance an arm length from Law. As natural as possible. Even you try to eat first or later to not sit at his side.

Week turns to month.

Until one day, you witness it with your own eyes. When you leave the bar and want to go back to Polar Tang, you see him. Your beloved captain, Trafalgar Law, walks to a motel with a woman. His hand on the woman waist.

Your body trembling. Your head dizzy. You want to let out the beers you drank out from your throat, tears are threatening to falls. You clench your fist until it's turning white.

Sachi, Penguin and Bepo walks out from the bar, want to follows you back to the sub. But they halt their steps. Following the direction of your gaze.

They knew. Knew Law been to the bar. They knew there's always a girl at his side. They've confront him about this, but he told them to shut up, Law told them to not meddle his personal life.

You take a deep breath and blinks away the tears. And you start walking back to sub.

The man that you loved for years, breaks your heart to pieces. You even haven't confess to Law. Yet you already has the answer.

Then what's the point to stay at here? Why you have to torture yourself more than this? The answer is clear. You chuckle to yourself. Why are you so foolish. You're just a crewmate. Even if you're gone they won't make a fuss.

"Let's just wait for another chance." You thought to yourself.

That night, your heart losing it beats. It's not beating faster when you think about Law anymore. When you wake up with tears stain on your pillow, you lost your voice.

Strangely you're not panicking. Because you remember you read it on a book at Chopper's library, it can due to trauma or it can be from shock that your brain or heart produce.

The others panics. The trio runs to Law, telling him about you lost your voice. Law's face darkened hearing the news. Law immediately rushing to you.

"What happened?" Law try to reach your arm, but you take a step back. Avoiding his touch.

Don't touch me with those filthy hands. Those hands that touched other women.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, you smile and shrug. You write on the sketchbook "No need to panic." And you walks away from him resuming your duty.

Law just stand there, stunned. He remember this scenes long ago. Just like Cora-san when they first met. But are you really lost your voice? It can be you just faking it like Cora-san.

The trio know what Law's been thinking, Sachi breaks the silence "No, Captain. It's real."

Penguin chime in, "We already check on her, we try to prove it. It's real."

Bepo just start to panic and want to cry.

Law's minds been busy, thinking the way out to get your voice back.

But Law doesn't know about your plan.

You know Law's sleeping schedule, mostly Law will be at his office until morning. He rarely sleeps on his bed. Before dawn you slip something under his bedroom door.

While the other are busy getting ready to submerge, you walk out slowly without making any sounds to avoid bumping to other crews. Off to the fresh dawn air. Then you see a merchant ship docked at the harbor not that far, they starts to pulling their anchor.

You start to run faster to the merchant ship, after you reach them you write to them that you need a lift to another island to find your "husband". They agree to help you and they start to sail.

You look back again to the direction where the yellow sub docked behind a hill, the place that been home for you for years. The place full of happy and sad times. The place where your loved one is. The place where your heart used to beats full in love there.

You left your home. You left your family. You left the man you loved. You left your heart there.

When Law enter his bedroom, he step on something. He picks up a piece of paper and open it. His eyes widened and he start to search for you in every corner. Even your room is empty though your belongings still there. Law can't find you anywhere.

"Hakugan! How long have we been submerged?" Law slams the control room door, out of breath.

"Around six hours, Captain." Hakugan clench his heart, shock with the sudden burst and scared if he makes any mistake.

"Fuck! Turn back! Turn back to the island! NOW!" Law is furious now. How can he oversleep until this late? If only he didn’t stayed up late last night.

Sachi runs and stumbling at the door, "The letter... Captain.." Sachi tries to catch his breaths because he runs as fast as he can.

Penguin arrive behind Sachi, holding out the letter, "We found this."

Law snatch the letter and read it. It contains a simple words,

Thank you for the memories ꨄ︎

There's no doubt in it. This is your handwriting. The handwriting that Law always brush lovingly and memorize. The same handwriting on your letter that you left for him.

I loved you.

Law yell the order to Hakugan again, "Turn back to the island!" He walks back to his room, Sachi and Penguin follow behind him. When Law open his door, he rush in and slam the door right in front of Sachi and Penguin face. He doesn't need any lectures now.

He slides down from the door, sitting and read your letters again. The letter for him, I loved you. Loved. That means you don't love him anymore? Did he made a mistake? All of this is his fault? He stare hard on your letter, LOVED.

And suddenly a droplet of water stain the letter. Law choke on his own tears. He want to scream, he want to rips his hair off. But he can't. He punch the door in frustration, there a small yelp behind the door that goes unnoticed by him.

Six hours. Law prays that you're still at the island. He will take you back no matter what. If you ask him the reasons, he will tell you. He will tell you everything you want to knows. As long as it can takes you back to him. He will tell you his true feelings, his feelings toward you. He will do everything, anything. For you. He will make it right this time.

When Law arrive at the island he waste no time to cast his power. He use all of his energy to cast a big "ROOM" that envelopes the whole island. He close his eyes, he wish, he hope, he prays that you will appear in front of him. And he cast the "Shambles".

None.

Nothing.

You don't appear in front of him.

He tries, tries, and tries again.

Penguin grabs Law shoulder, "She's gone, Law. She's left. Let's go back inside."

That moment, Law feels like his heart being torn apart to pieces. It's all his fault he lose you. How could he be so foolish?

Why would he think being with another women will keep you safe? Why he didn't realize your pain? Why he didn't realize your changed attitude towards him? Your smile, your distance, no more lingering gazes and touches. Why he just realize it now?

It's too late now. He hurts you, he lose you too.

Penguin and Sachi follows Law to his bedroom. Law just sit at his bed with his hands in his face. Penguin and Sachi look at each other. Seeing their friend like this broke them too.

"Do you realize all the women you pick resembles her, Law?" Penguin break the silence.

Law still hide his face. "Their height, features, hair colors and lengths it's all resembles to her, you know." Sachi take a step forward.

"I didn't slept with all those women. I couldn't bring myself to slept with them. It never feels right, those women is not her. They can’t give me what I want likes her" Law shoulder is shaking.

Penguin kneel in front of Law, "Then why did you that, Law?"

"I just want her to be safe. You know I've got a lot of enemies. I'm so scared that I can't protect her. What if I lose her?" Law mutter, his voice is cracking.

Sachi sit next to Law, gripping his shoulder "You already lose her, Law."

Law can feel a sting in his heart, the pain almost unbearable. Being so broken Law poured all his heart out to his best friends.

"I shouldn't have let those women get close to me, let their stinky perfumes on my clothes. Gave me mark on my neck. She must've seen it. She must've knew."

"She saw you took a woman to motel, Law." Penguin sighs.

Law freeze and lift his face in horror, "What? When?"

"Night before she lost her voice." Sachi fills in.

"What? Then it's my fault she lost her voice?" Law whisper, his voice thick with sadness. Law can feel the anguish slowly engulf his heart and mind.

Sachi and Penguin wants to comfort him, saying it's not his fault. But the words just won't come out from their mouth. So they just stay there with him, watching Law stare blankly at his hand and crumble.

He will take you back, no matter what. He will travel around the New World again to find you. All he want is just for you to be safe. He prays to all the Gods for your safety, and to gives him your forgiveness.

For four months, Law lost his direction. He will only comes out from his office to give orders and then shut himself at his office. Sachi, Penguin and Bepo try their best to help Law. They will bring foods for him, dragging him to take a bath. If he force himself to sleep at his bed, he will just curls up clutching tightly on your letter praying that he will meet you on his dreams, smiling and holds him tight. He will gives you all his love for you. Hell, he even will says the three words to you. Even if it's just on his dreams. He drifts off to the dreamland with tears to meet you there.

Every times they reach an island, Law will cast the "ROOM", if there's no result he will order them to move to the next island immediately. Sachi and Penguin even beg to Law to stay for a couple days at the island to get some supplies and rest before resuming their journey. They understand Law impatience, but they still try to persuade him.

They think Law is just like a ghost now, losing half of his soul. The only thing that can cure him is you. They also prays every times they reach an island, hoping you are there. To end Law misery. They really want to tell him to give up, but they got tongue tied every times they see his face.

The first month after you left Law, you stay at the island for awhile to collect some berries for your next journey. Sometimes you will help the local doctor, or working at the diner as cook.

When the berries is more than enough, you will move to another island. Maybe you runs away from him, if you stay at the island longer you afraid you will meet him. Heh. There's no way he will looks for you. Who the hell are you? You're not that important to him. You're just a crewmate. Stop thinking so high and mighty about yourself, Y/N. You chuckles and shake your head in disbelief.

The second months, you meet the Sun God. The person you least expected to meet.

Luffy is so happy to meet you again after years. He wraps his arm around you, "Does this mean Torao also here with you? I want to meet him! I miss him!" Luffy chirps.

You just give him a sheepish smile, and you write, "No, I'm alone. I'm no longer Heart Pirates crew."

Luffy just stare and tilt his head, confuse why are you using that sketch book, and you explain to him that you lost your voice. Luffy then drags you to Sunny, "Chopper can help you! Let's go!"

You try to let out your voice, to tell him no but the voice is not coming out. You just let him take you to Sunny.

The other crews are so happy to meet you again. Nami, Robin and Chopper embrace you so tightly. They rush you to the infirmary to check your health. They are so shocks hearing Luffy's information that you lost your voice and no longer Law's crew. As you try to calm them down, "It's okay, it's not a big deal. I'm still strong even without my voice." You give them weak smile while show them the sketch book.

Nami and Robin knows there's more into it. They exchange glances and hugs you, Nami gives you pat on your head while Robin stroke your back. As if they know your real reason. As if they know your pain, your heartbreak. Chopper just hugging you too without knowing why.

For the first time after two months, you cry your heart out. Sobbing in their embrace. You want to let out all of your screams that you've been hold back for months. But you can't. There's no voice coming out. You cry until your throat is hoarse and dry, and fall asleep on their embrace.

The next morning you wake up with swollen eyes. Sanji rushing to get ice packs for you, "A beautiful lady like you mustn't cry, Y/N-chan. Tell me if there's something you crave, I will cook it for you in no time." And he kiss the back of your hand. Nami warned to the other crews to not mention Law's name. It's a forbidden word at Sunny, whoever utter that word must pay a huge amount of berries to her.

"Eeh. Whyyy?? Why can't I say Torao name? I want to ask her about how he's been doing." Luffy whine to Nami. Nami grab Luffy's collar and threaten him, "If you says his name one more time, you won't get allowance for a month. I dare you." Luffy zips his mouth tightly.

"Just stay with us, we won't say anything to him." Luffy sincerely say it while all of them gathering waiting for lunch. You can feels the tears are forming at the corner of your eyes, you mouthed "Thank you." and try to blinks away the tears.

Even though you're not sad anymore, the crews know you changed. You're not the same person as they met back ago when the alliance with Law's formed. Your smile is not the same, you're not the cheerful person like back then. What had happened between you and the Heart Pirates Captain?

One day when you, Nami and Robin enjoying Sanji's dessert at the deck, she can't help her curiosity so she cautiously ask you, "Did both of you broke up?" You put your spoon on your lips and write "We're not together. We're just crewmate and captain." Nami and Robin stunned with your words. Nami try to pushed again but Robin pinch her with her extra hand. They just don't understand why both of you are not together. They saw how Law gazed at you. How Law always following close behind you every where you goes, like a lost cat. But they didn't push further, maybe you're not ready to tell them yet.

Days by days pass peacefully, some part of you think maybe it's not that bad you get on board with Luffy. It's almost makes you forget about your pain. You can saves more berries, maybe someday you can settle down at some island and enjoying the domestics life.

Some days, you help Sanji with preparing foods or wash the dishes. Other times you watch Luffy antics. There's no days pass without fun on Sunny.

Until one day, Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Brook and Franky make a fuss with the sea king monster. In such a chaotic mess, Nami hit their head until two lumps appear at each heads. And she yell at them, they just lowered their head until a soft breeze blows and Luffy raises his head to hold his precious straw hat, "Oh! Y/N is laughing!" The others snaps their head to you, seeing you laugh for the first time. The real and genuine laugh.

Nami and Robin jumps at you and hug you. The others also laugh, Sanji's heart eyes appear at the sight, and there's a slight tinted blush at Zoro face, and he smile. Even though they can't hear your sweet voice, at least you're laughing now. They just hope you will turns to the old you.

They never thought of you as a guest at Sunny, they treat you like their nakama. When you're down, they will try to cheer you up. Zoro sometimes offer you to clean your katana, or even training together. The girls watching Zoro's behavior and it's so strange for him to interact with someone on his accord.

Nami pulls him and threaten him, "What're you doing? What's your intention, Zoro?"

He deadpanned on Nami, "Nothing, just offer her some companion?".

Nami point her finger, "If your intention is not clear, or you just need someone to warm your bed you better back off."

Zoro takes a step closer and gives Nami a stern look, "I'm. Not." Zoro growls. Maybe he just pitied you, or maybe he just want to take care of you, or maybe he just want to protect you. He doesn't know himself why.

As months goes by, you're getting a little bit cheerful like the old days. And you even gets closer to the crews.

When Luffy see an island holding a festival he decide to dock. Before Luffy and Chopper can scurry off to the town, Nami hold them and tell Luffy to bring one or two crews with him. To watch over him to not cause any ruckus.

Zoro voluntary says he will go with Luffy making the others screech. Nami turns to you "Y/N, can you please go with them? Me and Robin will go later and catch up with you guys." You nods and go to change your outfit. Wearing white shirt with a short and sandals. You run off to Luffy and the others whose been excited to enjoy the festival, “Let’s go!!” Nami shouts from the back, “Zoro!! Please don’t get lost! I’m counting on you, Y/N! Have fun!!” Zoro just rolls his eye at Nami and you giggle while wrapping your hand to his arm. Zoro jolt at your sudden touch and eyeing you, you mouthed “So you don’t get lost.” You grin and lead the way. Zoro just huff and shake his head, hiding the subtle smile.

Tagging along with Luffy that want to eats all of the foods on every stalls, and Chopper want to try all the attractions makes your heart full. “Look! That roller coaster is so cool! Let’s try it!” Chopper shouts and excitedly point at it. “I’m gonna pass on this one. To tired. I will wait for you guys down here.” Zoro already sits on the bench and cross his arms.

You feel bad leaving him behind and want to stay too, but Zoro just shoo you to go with them, “Just go, it’s okay. It won’t take that long.”

Then you go with Luffy and Chopper to enjoy the roller coaster. But when you guys come back down, all of you are drenched. You guys just laugh while Zoro dumbfounded looking at you guys. Zoro put his cloak on your shoulders, “Your shirt become a see-through.” As he looks away from your body. Your face flushed and mouthed “Thanks.”

As you guys walking back to Sunny with hands full with foods, there’s two people looking at you from afar with their jaws dropping. They can’t believe their own eyes. They exchange glances to make sure it is really you.

“Should we call Captain?” Sachi already takes out the mini den den mushi.

“Ugh.. Wait! But look at her! She’s laughing! She’s happy, Sachi!” Penguin grab Sachi hand.

“Guys! It’s-!” Bepo suddenly appears and shout but Sachi and Penguin quickly shuts his mouth.

“Sshh!!!” They gesture in unison.

“Should we call Captain??” Sachi press again.

Penguin is still in agony. “Peng! Captain needs her!” Sachi getting impatient now because he almost lost you on the crowds.

"Fine!! Fine! Call him." Penguin surrender, still unsure if this is the right things or not. Because he also knows you are suffering from Law.

When the news reach Law, he immediately teleport to the shore. He use his power to teleports here and there, to find the Sunny.

And he sees you, draped in Zoro's cloak, your hand grabs on his arm. And you laugh. You laugh with them. The smiles that he missed so much, the smiles that you used to gave to him. You looks... Beautiful. You looks... Happy... Are you with Zoro now? He can feels his heart clench. He will finds out himself.

This time, he will make it right.

Suddenly you see a blue orbs envelopes all of you. You freeze, gripping Zoro's arm. You know damn well this blue orbs. And he appears in front of you. The man that you loved with all of your heart. He looks like a mess. His eye bags getting more darker.

Law so relieve when he see you this close. Finally... He can take you back with him, he moves his hand to reach you but Zoro take a step in front of you and stand between you and Law.

"Move, Zoro-ya." Law stand tall against Zoro.

But Zoro doesn't move an inch, and you still clutching on Zoro hiding behind him. When Luffy and Chopper see Law, they excitedly shouts, "OOH! TORAOO!!" But Zoro prevent them to get close to Law.

"What do you want, Torao?" Zoro still in his defensive stance.

"I don't have any business with you. I'm here for Y/N." Law still looking at you. "Let's talk, Y/N. Please." He's pleading now, you never hear his voice this soft. You still consider should you talk to him? Part of you don't want to talk to him, you don't want to see his face. But maybe this is the time...

You come out from behind Zoro and you nod. You point to a big stone under the shade and you gesture to him to follow you there. You write to Luffy, "I'll be back."

You and Law walk to the shade, you lean on the stone and write, "What do you want?" You shove it to him, but you didn't look at him at all.

Law furrow his eyebrows. It hurts. "How you've been, Y/N?" He reach for your face but you avoid it. It hurts so bad. He clench his fist and take it back to his side. "Please, look at me, Y/N." His voice cracking.

You freeze and slowly turn your head to meet his gaze. There they are, the grey eyes that you used to loved is filled with tears now. But it makes you furious and without you realizing it you hit his chest with your both fist. Law lets you hit him, if it can makes you feel better then it doesn't matter. If it can makes you back to his side, then it's fine. He will take it all, your furious, your hits. Everything.

Your head hung low while you still hitting him for God knows for how long. But Law realize you've been crying. He grabs your wrists, "Look at me, Y/N. Please." You lift your head, still sobbing. Law's eyes quiver with the sight, he pulls you right to his chest. He hug your trembling body tightly, he will not let you go.

"Please come back, Y/N" Law whisper beside your ear.

You snap your eyes open realize this is not right. You shove Law then you wipe your tears with your sleeves and write in a quick pace, "I'm not coming back. You should go back."

"Y/N, don't do this. Please come back to me." Law reach out his hand for you to take it, he looks so sorrowful. You shakes your head furiously. Law take a step toward you still reaching out his hand, "Why are you doing this, Y/N? If you love me then just come back to me." He slowly walking to you.

"I'm not! I don't love you anymore!" You write then tear the sheet and you throw it to Law. Then you write another one and throw it again. He picks it up and read it “I hate you.” Law’s eyes widened and he clutch the sheet, “Lies. You’re lying.” He stands in front of you.

“I’m not lying.” You look straight into his eyes.

“I don’t love you. And I’m not going back. Leave. Go back, Captain. I’m just one of your crew-mate, you don’t have to waste your times for me.” You starts to walk away from him.

Law grabs your wrist and turns you to face him, “I love you. I love you, Y/N. Please come back to me.” He’s crying. Trafalgar Law is crying in front of you.

You try so hard to hold back your tears. You tell yourself, don’t cry, not now. You shakes your head and yank your wrist, “It’s too late. Goodbye, Law. Take care.” You leave Law standing there in silence.

You walks back to Sunny without looking back at the man you loved. You thought you’ll be strong to leave him again for the second times, but why these tears just won’t stop? As you reach Sunny you quickly wipe your tears.

“Can we sail out now, Luffy? Please?” You write to Luffy. Luffy just nods and tells Nami to set off.

You storms to your shared bedroom and lock the door. You throw yourself to your bed and cry your heart out, screaming to the pillow. The crews freeze when they heard your wailing. When they wish they can hear your voice again, they don’t mean it like this. Not your voice when you’re in pain. They just stand at the deck looking at each other, they can feel your pain. But they can't do anything to erase your pain.

Law walks back to Polar Tang in tears with your sketch sheets in his hand, it feels like he reminisces the old days. The days he cried when Cora-san died. You left him too. If only he could be more honest with you. If only he didn’t act like a jerk. If only he didn’t hurt you. None of these will happen. If only…

When the crews see Law coming back alone they don’t utters a single words to him. He just walks to his bedroom in silence, only the trio follows Law. Law slumps to his bed, covering his eyes with his arm, the other hand still holding on your sketch sheets tightly at his chest. Penguin being the brave one to break the silence, “Is she?” Law answers short, “No.”

Sachi continue, “Do you tell her everything?”

“It’s too late. She hates me. She doesn’t love me anymore. She left me.” Law curls up holding your sheets tightly.

Law can't get you return to his side again. He can't have your heart forever. He can't see you anymore. He can't hear your sweet voice anymore. At least he want to hear your voice before you go.

Law doesn't know you get your voice back again.

Law summon "ROOM", the blue orb surrounds him and he cast "SILENCE".

For the first time Sachi, Penguin and Bepo see their Captain crying in despair. They just hope their captain can get on his feet again.

It's too late now...

Is it too late now?

This is the end...

Is this the end?

Part 2

dividers by : @saradika-graphics

[tcfactory]

A smile for the master

Okay, what if white lotus Luo Binghe and OG Shen Qingqiu body swap.

The fake cultivation manual does make Luo Binghe qi deviate. Relatively early too, he's still in his white lotus phase. This qi deviation just coincides with one of Shen Qingqiu's many, many deviations and, by some freak twist of luck, swaps their bodies.

The only people who know about this are Yue Qingyuan, Mu Qingfang and the people directly involved, because they can't let word get out about the body swap. Unlike all the regular shenanigans (amnesia, de-aging, animal transformations, etc.) Mu Qingfang has no idea how to approach fixing this. He can't even tell if it is possible to fix it or not. This is such a one-in-a-million thing that there's no precedent.

So for the time being Luo Binghe in Shen Qingqiu's body will be confined to the bamboo house, under some supervision, with the excuse that Shen Qingqiu is still under danger of another qi deviation. And Shen Qingqiu gets to go out and pretend to be Binghe.

He's meant to move into the bamboo house to 'assist his shizun in his recovery' (yeah, right, like anyone would believe that), but the first thing he does once everyone leaves them alone that evening is grab a few things in a qiankun pouch and prepares to leave.

"Where is shizun going?"

"Wipe that pathetic look off my face! I'm sleeping in the woodshed."

"But shizun doesn't have to! This disciple will sleep in the side room, I-"

"I don't care where you sleep in my house. But I'm not sleeping under the same roof as a man, and you currently qualify as such."

It's such a strange thing to say that it sticks with Binghe - does his shizun genuinely feel safer in the woodshed than in the same house with his own body??? - but he is still disoriented and in so much pain that he doesn't have it in him to argue. Mu-shishu said it was not unusual for a severe qi deviation to cause pain, but he hopes it will fade quickly.

The pain doesn't fade by morning. It stays a persistent, sharp ache in his joints that seems to sap the strength from his limbs. Binghe thinks he can cheer himself up by cooking breakfast in shizun's kitchen, but his hands shake and his fingers refuse to bend right. He still scrapes together two servings of palatable congee, which gets him an unreadable look from his returning shizun. You'd think Binghe would be able to read the man's expressions on his own face better, but all he can say for certain is that his face has never made that expression before.

"Shizun, how do you stop the shaking?" Binghe asks tentatively. Shen Qingqiu made tea and brought over a few dry biscuits that looked completely unappetizing to Binghe. He planned to pointedly ignore them in favor of his own, much better food, except he has eaten two spoonfuls of congee and he's suddenly feeling sick. Something on his face must be showing because Shen Qingqiu snatches his bowl away and pushes the biscuits to him instead.

"Eat one, slowly, with the tea. It will help you keep the food down." In Luo Binghe's body his shizun has no problem eating both portions while Binghe nibbles on the biscuit. It's bitter from the herbs, but it does help. "Haven't you learned how to channel qi to stabilize your body? Useless little beast." After a moment his eyes grow wide and he hastily holds up a hand. "Don't try it with my body! The last thing we need is for you to have another qi deviation."

"Even this useless one knows how to direct and circulate his qi, shizun." Binghe tries to pout - it has never worked on his shizun, but maybe he will be more receptive of such tactics when it's his own face - but finds that the muscles of his face are not working as they should.

"Not with my meridians you don't. I thought even the lowliest of outer disciples have heard by now that my cultivation base is ruined." He squints up at Binghe and his glare is no less formidable on a different face. "Little beast. What are you trying to do with my face?"

Binghe has, in fact, reached up and is trying to feel out why he can't move part of his face as he should. "This... is there a scar here?" He's not familiar enough with scars to be sure, but he can feel the slightly different texture of the skin with his fingers as it curves around his cheek and jaw. Strange, he's sure he would have noticed before if his shizun had such a big scar on his face.

Shen Qingqiu slaps his hand away.

"A mule kicked me in the face when I was a child. They put an ointment on it at the time, so it healed well enough that it's no longer visible."

Not visible, but still present. Later, after Shen Qingqiu leaves for Luo Binghe's classes, he stands in front of the bronze mirror to test the range of his expressions and suddenly understands why Shen Qingqiu prefers to hide the lower half of his face behind a fan. The scar tissue tugs on the muscles of his face and makes the way one corner of his mouth moves rather ghastly.

It's not the only scar he has. It takes Binghe until the afternoon to work up the courage to take a bath and he can't help to look at his shizun's body then. The history written into the man's skin is distressing to say the least. Cuts and whip marks, all etched in deep, and burns, so many burns. The most horrifying is on one of his thighs, the muscle and skin deformed where it was burned deep; Binghe has seen kitchen accidents before and this has the look of boiling oil, but it's position and size both speak of intentionality. He can't even imagine what shizun has done to be injured there, so close to an intimate area.

And the crowning jewel of all scars, the one that raises the most questions in Binghe's mind, is the slave brand. Qiu, it reads on the left side of his chest, still clearly legible despite obvious signs that someone tried to ruin it with deep cuts; the character just ate even deeper into the flesh to retain its shape.

He's standing in front of the bronze mirror, staring numbly at the brand while the water goes cold next to him, only snapping out of his stupor when the front door slams open, then closed, then his shizun calls for him. "In here, shizun!"

Shen Qingqiu is in a good mood - the body he's in is strong and healthy, despite everything, and unlike that dolt of a little beast, he knows exactly how to get out of chores - so he doesn't immediately snap at Binghe when he finds him inspecting his body. "It would have been too much of a blessing to expect you to not undress and poke at my flesh the moment you were left alone."

"I just wanted a bath." The face he currently wears doesn't lend itself to his usual tactics, so he simply... doesn't try. It makes him much more tolerable in Shen Qingqiu's eyes. "Begging shizun's forgiveness, I expected him to take longer with this disciple's daily chores."

"Unlike you, I don't have the personality of a doormat. I've done the chores for you and Yingying and then tricked one of your shixiongs into insulting Ming Fan, so he got saddled with the rest." He says it like it's the easiest thing in the world and there's a disapproving edge to it. See, little beast? His eyes say. Why don't you do it this way, it's so easy.

"I don't know what shizun expects from me," Binghe finally says, his frustrations overflowing. "I want nothing more than to cultivate in peace! I used every trick I have ever learned to make the bullies go away, but it only made things worse!" He claws at the slave mark, as if he could rip it from the skin and hand it to Shen Qingqiu. "I thought shizun to be a rich master who would not understand, but shizun has come from a background as lowly as this one's! Shizun should understand! Shizun should-!"

"Shut up. You don't know anything about me." There is no real anger in those words, but Binghe immediately shuts up. Shen Qingqiu regards him with something calculating, until he finally comes to a decision of sorts. He closes his eyes, schools his features and when he opens them again the picture of innocence looks up at Binghe, a harmless white sheep who could do no harm.

It's almost as good as when Binghe does it.

"What did you say your mother's job was?" The moment is gone and Shen Qingqiu arranges his features back into something more comfortable and Binghe, still reeling, answers on autopilot.

"This one's elderly mother was a lowly washerwoman."

"An elderly woman, of a low, but stable position, with no ambitions left in life and no power to protect her son." Shen Qingqiu exhales slowly. "She taught you to smile, hasn't she? To be good and docile to avoid trouble."

"Yes!" Finally, it feels like they are going somewhere, they have found common ground. "My mother taught me that no matter what grief or grudge settles in my heart, I should always-"

"Have a smile for the master," Shen Qingqiu finishes for him. He looks annoyed, but not angry - at least not at Binghe. "Go take that bath." He reheats the water with the touch of his hand and a careful application of qi. "This master has essays to grade."

The hot water is a blessing, but Binghe still hurries to get clean and get dressed again. Shizun, true to his word, is grading essays at the table when Binghe returns. Binghe fidgets with nothing to do while his shizun works, so eventually Shen Qingqiu chases him off to make tea so he can work in peace.

Binghe is just returning when the sect leader arrives. "Qingqiu-shidi, Luo-shizi. I hope everything is going all right so far?"

"Good timing," Shen Qingqiu looks up from the essays with a wolfish expression that makes Binghe's face look almost scary. "Qi-ge, think fast: smile for the master-"

"-Snarl for the wolves-" Yue Qingyuan answers without thinking, something sharp and dark glinting in his usually soft eyes. This minute slip in his mask scares Binghe more than the worst of his shizun's temper.

"-knife for the rivals." Unexpectedly, Shang Qinghua pops his head out from behind the wide bulk of the sect leader. "Why are we reciting the Urchins' Laws?"

Shen Qingqiu narrows his eyes at his shidi. "Where this one grew up we said rocks for the rivals, but the sentiment is the same." He gestures for Binghe, who stands frozen in Shen Qingqiu's body, to serve the tea. "What is Shang-shidi doing here?"

"I might have, ah. Overheard? Overheard the situation and I might know an herb that can remedy it. Liu Qingge is already on his way to get it, so it's only a matter of days!" He rubs the back of his neck. "I just wanted to be here when zhangmen-shixiong tells shixiong the good news."

"That's acceptable." Shen Qingqiu takes a sip from his tea, then pushes the essays away in favor of an empty sheet. "Then Shang-shidi can stay and help us remedy a serious shortcoming in disciple Luo's education. It would seem he only learned to smile and never to snarl, leaving him with the appearance of an unfortunately spineless disposition."

"I see." All three adults look at Luo Binghe with pity, even the one currently wearing his body. He takes a big gulp of his tea to get away from their staring and almost chokes from the overwhelming bitter taste.

"It's fine, shizi! I think there are no better people to teach disciple Luo these lessons, so he will learn them in no time!" Shang Qinghua hurries to reassure him.

"That's not- thanking shishu for his encouraging words! It's just this tea is unexpectedly bitter."

The lords all look puzzled. "Bitter? Has Shen-shidi acquired a new blend?"

"As if you could tell," Shen Qingqiu huffs dismissively and takes another sip of his tea. "I don't taste anything wrong with it."

They all turn to Shang Qinghua, who takes a sip and immediately makes a noise of disgust.

"It's been severely over-steeped," he declares, pushing the cup away.

"Interesting." Shen Qingqiu drinks the rest of his tea and shakes his head. "Disciple Luo can't taste bitterness, so he doesn't know when he over steeps the tea."

"This one can taste bitterness, shizun! Mu-shishu's cold medicine-"

"-doesn't count. Even zhangmen-shixiong can tell it's bitter and he has almost completely lost his sense of taste when we were children."

The sect leader has a soft, awkward look on his face and Shang Qinghua stifles a laugh behind his sleeve. "Can confirm! Yue-shixiong once drank an entire undiluted bottle of chili oil on a bet when we were disciples. Luo-shizi is in good company."

Good company indeed. It's strange and a little frightening to see the three untouchable immortal masters acting so human, but Binghe rubs the scar on his face and thinks of masks. The same way Binghe puts on the mask of a meek little lamb every morning, the peak lords put on their own masks each day.

In the fifteen days it takes for Liu-shishu to get the herbs and return, they teach Binghe how to navigate the power plays of the sect in the way only those not born into power know:

A smile for the master (be pleasant and meek and uninteresting in the face of those who can hurt you without consequence, because it's boring to bully docile and uninteresting servants. Bide your time and only plot where they can't see it).

Yue Qingyuan smiles, because he has risen above the rest. Nobody would dare to trample him, so he can wear a smile if he wants; it makes him more approachable. Luo Binghe smiles at him and the sect leader winks back; this comes the easiest to him.

A snarl for the wolves (do not let your peers trample you. You are roughly of equal standing and power, so fight for what you deserve. If someone with only slightly higher standing tries to strike against you and you can get away with it, bite the hand that struck you, so they would think twice before they try again).

Shen Qingqiu was born a wolf and will likely die one, too broken and battered to become a prized, pampered hound. He snarls at the world and wants Binghe to snarl back at him, to show him that he has the determination to make it through. (Urchins who don't learn to bare their teeth when they should all die, trampled in the dirt, and Binghe suspects that his shizun has seen it happen enough times that he has hardened his heart against it.) It comes frighteningly easy, once he tries, and he makes sure to restrain himself so he doesn't become a mirror of his bitter shizun.

A knife for the rivals (be ruthless and deadly to the outsiders who come to harm you and yours. Set aside internal strife in the face of outside threat and sharpen your fangs together; the only good enemy is a dead one).

Binghe doesn't know what to think of Shang Qinghua at first. The An Ding lord has his own flavor of pathetic (it's not quite the same as smiling, he thinks), but Binghe is not a fool. If the sect leader is the smile and his shizun the snarl, then Shang Qinghua is the knife, and his cultivated helplessness is the perfect disguise for his sharp edge.

Out of all three of them, he decides that Shang Qinghua scares him the most.

The day after they are switched back Luo Binghe returns to the bamboo house to report to his shizun.

"So early today, little beast." Shen Qingqiu doesn't look up from the novel he's reading, sprawled carelessly over the couch. Binghe knows that this crack in his shizun's peerless facade is only there for him to see because he has lived in his body for two weeks and knows exactly how much agony he is in day in day out (Binghe did some much less dignified sprawling when he was wearing that body, that's for sure), but it still makes him feel honored, in a way. He's in on a secret none of the other disciples are and it makes him feel... special.

"Ming-shixiong had an unfortunate incident with a hive of wasps and forgot to assign his shidis extra chores."

Shen Qingqiu glances at him over the edge of his book. "Where in the hells have you found wasps this time of the year?"

"I could not say. Shizun will have to ask Shang-shishu."

The set of Shen Qingqiu's mouth shifts. It's not a smile, but it's as close as the man gets and Luo Binghe's heart soars when he sees it. His shizun stands with mesmerizing feline grace and plucks a manual off from his shelf. "Catch." Binghe scrambles to catch the manual, his eyes going wide when he recognizes his shizun's calligraphy. The book is bound in an old cover to make it look used, but the pages and the contents are all brand new. "This master has noticed that disciple Luo's current manual is unsuitable for his cultivation. This one will be a better fit."

"Thank you, shizun!" He turns to walk into the side room, planning to pretend that he belongs here ('sometimes if you are confident enough, you can make others think that you belong somewhere you have no business being', Shang Qinghua said), but he stops dead when his shizun calls after him.

"Where do you think you are going, little beast?"

"To my room, shizun." He brazenly meets Shen Qingqiu's narrowed eyes and carefully gauges the man's mood. He's not angry yet. "This disciple has no place in the dorms, but he got to thinking: wouldn't it reflect badly on our peak and our peak lord if word got out that one of the Qing Jing disciples sleeps in the woodshed? This one is not a man, so he thought shizun would have no opposition against him taking the unused side room in exchange for performing extra chores around the house."

Shen Qingqiu approaches him with an aura like a fierce storm, but Luo Binghe stands his ground. The man wanted him to snarl back; it was time to test the practice of that theory.

"Luo Binghe has done a lot of thinking in the day since we last met."

"Of course. This disciple had years of thoughtlessness to make up for."

Shen Qingqiu exhales sharply; a silent laugh. "Luo Binghe might not be a man yet, but he will grow up to be one. Why should I tolerate his presence?"

"This one might become a man, but only if shizun can't mold him into something better."

"Insolent little beast!" He expects the smack with the fan. It smarts like always and it's likely going to leave a bruise. He doesn't expect the hand on his head, not petting, but... acknowledging. "Go to your room."

Binghe can't restrain the smile that spreads over his face. It earns him another smack, lighter this time, but it's worth it. He sets the new manual down on the bed and starts brewing tea for his shizun, lighting a timer talisman so he doesn't seep the leaves too long.

It took him to walk a mile in his shizun's boots in the most convoluted way possible, but he has finally done it: he found common ground with his master. It could only get better from now.

[fanfic-obsessed]

Fake It

Let's take another AU walk. I do want you to know that, even though I can’t figure how to fit it into the idea proper, it is established Blyla and established CodyWan in the background.

When Order 66 went live, the clones, all of them, decided to fake the death of their Jedi. There could be many reasons for this but I personally like the thought that Clones had been low key prepared for their Jedi to be declared traitors since almost the beginning. 

In this one; the way the contract with the Kaminoans was written, the laws that created the GAR, and the laws that drafted Jedi interacted a little oddly. By technicality, since the Clones are not considered sentient, but instead are considered essential equipment for the GAR, any attempt to get them recognized as sentient, or in fact even treating the Clones like people, could be considered treasonous (the odd part is that this was not deliberate on the part of Palpatine, it was just one of those strange occurrences that he and the Jedi did not realize, but the clones did). 

And the chips do not give a reason for the Jedi being traitors, just that they were. So the clones, who had been preparing for this, took action. 

In addition, since the Jedi were empaths, the Clones and the Jedi had developed emotions as messages that could be used where other communication was not possible. Including a highly specific emotion that meant ‘We need to fake your death NOW’. 

So the Clones do ‘attack’ their Jedi (Obi Wan still got to take his swan dive), while giving the emotional equivalent of ‘PLAY DEAD YOU IDIOT’ being screamed at them. This emotion bleeding off all the clones could, to anyone not familiar with the emotion messages (which is everyone not Clone or Jedi) be mistaken for a darkening of the Force due 10,000 Jedi suddenly being betrayed and killed. 

As the march on the temple started, the 501st blasted this emotion too. Before Anakin can kill anyone this highly specific emotional message stops him just enough that he can come to his senses and realize exactly what he had been about to do (There is something about Anakin stopping dead in his tracks, eyes going wide as he realizes that he was about to commit first degree murder of children- I know that he had already committed child murder with the Tuskens, but there is a reason there is a difference between Second degree ‘I went somewhere an ended up murdering people’ and First Degree ‘I went there to murder people’).  

While the tech people of the Temple and the Clones hack into the security system (it may be the Temples system but it actually is calibrated to keep people from doing exactly what they are trying to do) to fake security footage of the Clones murdering the Jedi an getting in contact with Bail Organa to help get them all (including a smuggled Padme Amidala) off planet, Anakin put himself in a corner, telling them all that he needs to think about what he is about to do. 

Look I just really like the idea of an Anakin who has just realized he was down for First Degree Child Murder,but came to his senses before he actually committed the First Degree Child Murder and decides he needs to ground himself for a while. 

There was an intense debate between all the Jedi and their associated clones. The topic is if the Clones would be putting the Jedi on ships aimed for Wild Space until everything was sorted out, or if the Clones would be going with the Jedi into Wild Space while they figured out what to do next (The clones, particularly with the chips active, thought of themselves as Republic Property and did not want the Jedi to get in trouble for Grand Theft Army).  While most of the Jedi on the debate, there were a handful of battalions that had simply stunned their Jedi as part of the initial death faking and so won by default. Later there would be missions specifically to retrieve those lost battalions. There was a second, even more intense debate about what to do with the majority of the natborn officers, the ones that would not have sided with the clones and Jedi (As most of those Natborns were odious, speciest, and abusive to the clones, the clones would like a little murder. As a treat. Some of the Jedi- Depa Billaba, Obi Wan Kenobi, and Ki Adi Mundi who were particularly close to their battalions- had a harder time arguing against the murder that they thought they would).

In the end it was decided that the Natborns would be given the ships and supplies to get them to the nearest friendly planet, if they were clever about it.  But that long distance communications  would be disabled. Not every ship had someone who was clever enough (as the majority of the assholes were higher level officers who were used to other people doing the actual work while they got the credit). Of the ones that had survivors, it would take at least two tenday to get to somewhere friendly from where they had been abandoned. 

While Palpatine knew something had gone wrong (his shiny new apprentice vanished without a whisper and his army was not where he left them) he thought that the Jedi being killed had gone to plan.  He finds out differently when the natborn officers start reporting in. 

I have no idea where it goes from here, though I imagine there is a significant amount of dechipping and an Empire to dismantle.

[veenxys]

「When someone pretends to be your friend only to flirt with BNHA Boys」

⤷ Bakugou he’d catch even a different look or a sweeter word coming from your friend, and he’d be even quicker to show her that he’s not interested because he’s too busy being in love with you to even think about someone else. he tries to ignore her, but she continues. he tries to get away from her, but she follows him. until one moment he ends up exploding and telling her hard and thick truths; which makes her upset and teary-eyed, but well, he’s too busy demonstrating to you that you’re the only one to even notice her.

⤷ Deku it would take him some time to realize that your ‘friend’ is flirting with him, but when he does, he’s so embarrassed and uncomfortable. he tries to come up with some excuse to get away from her but that doesn’t convince her, she always finds some way to go after him. he wouldn’t like, but he would have to take this problem into his own hands because he doesn’t want to make you upset or insecure. so he tries to be polite and tell her that he is with you and that he has no interest in her; he uses fake smiles and understanding looks so she doesn’t feel bad - and honestly, he regrets it later when he finds out she pretended to be your friend.

⤷ Kirishima

he would try to be as polite as possible when he realized what was happening, but as soon as he saw your discomfort and embarrassment he would immediately tell your friend to stop or say something like “i already have an s/o, i don’t need it and nor do i want another” in a polite but notoriously irritated manner. after that he would try to demonstrate as much as possible that his words were true, that he doesn’t want someone else, he wants you, and only you.

⤷ Todoroki

todoroki honestly wouldn’t even notice; he’s too oblivious to notice your friend’s strange behavior. he genuinely thinks she’s very friendly like: wow! she was so cool! he never realizes that she might be flirting or being fake until he realizes how angry/sad you are after every interaction. after that, he would avoid her like the plague because of how awkward he feels around her. you’re the one for him and he thought it was obvious but if it wasn’t before; he’ll make it obvious every day so you - and her - never forget.

⤷ Denki

he knows exactly what she’s doing but he kind of finds this whole situation funny because he shows you to everybody and everybody knows you’re his and he is completely yours, so he thinks it’s funny and silly how anyone can try take him away from you. most of the time he ignores her but sometimes he likes to say something funny just to fight back because honestly anyone who wants to hurt you is like an insult to him too. you’re in this together, so he takes these things personally.

“can you help me put this on the shelf? it’s so tall and i’m so small.. :(“ she says innocently as she looks at him.

“damn, i’m small too.. what a pity ¯\(ツ)/¯”

⤷ Tamaki

he would be so confused and so uncomfortable; he doesn’t know how to react because he doesn’t like to be rude to other people, but this whole situation makes his anxiety increase much more than he could have imagined. as she continues talking and approaching him, he looks for you with anxious and desperate eyes, and when you see him, you feel your heart ache in your chest. he looks so fragile and small when she is next to him, but you’re a little relieved to see that all the tension and fear that was in his eyes has eased a little when you arrived - as has the red in his cheeks. honestly this whole situation would probably end with a confrontation between you and her because you’ve never seen tamaki so uncomfortable before.

“thanks y/n,” he is so relieved and grateful when you’re finally alone, “i’m so glad we don’t need to talk to her anymore” he says as you hug him, feeling him melt into your touch.

⤷ Shinsou

he would be very uncomfortable with the whole situation once he realized what the girl’s real intentions were; he always saw her as friendly and kind, but that went a little too far when she started invading his personal space. he hated it not just for her touching him or asking deep questions about him, he hated it because it wasn’t you. you’re the only one on his mind; the only one he wants. so he tries to come up with an excuse to get away from her and come to you; he takes one last look at her before putting his arm around you and giving you a tender kiss on the cheek.

⤷ Hawks

he’s a kind of person who catches everyone’s attention, not only for being hero number two, but also for being very pretty. and even with all the attention he gets, he’d never do anything to make you doubt his love for you because his heart chose you, and only you. he is such a loyal and honest boyfriend; and he wouldn’t act differently around your fake friend. he doesn’t speak to her unless absolutely necessary and barely looks at her. unfortunately that doesn’t discourage her. he’s put up with everything until one day while she’s talking about his hair, she starts running her fingers through it, that’s when he decides he has to be very clear and probably hurt her feelings.

“uhm… my hair is beautiful because y/n helps me take care of it” he says taking her hands uncomfortably, “i'm glad they help me though. i don’t know what my life would be without them.” he says with a hard but at the same time meaningful smile, which makes her flinch a little.

⤷ Dabi

since when dabi’s heart decides to be yours, it’s like the two of you are linked; an intangible and strong love that he wouldn’t trade for anything in the world, in fact, he would protect it with his life. then he wouldn’t handle this situation very well; when he realizes that the girl is crossing the line and starts being ‘too friendly’, he starts ignoring her or else giving her dry and rude answers that makes her flinch a little. he demonstrates in every way that he is not interested and that his heart is yours and yours alone. but if the girl still continues, he won’t think twice before pulling you by the waist and giving you a passionate and long kiss in front of her, running his hand over your body and smiling when he puts his arm around your shoulder and looks at her deeply as if to say something like “you will never replace them. no one will.”

⤷ Shigaraki

shigaraki couldn’t stand even half a second next to the girl. he’s completely and hopelessly in love with you and everyone knows it, so why doesn’t she see it? he ignores her and on the rare occasions he does speak to her, he gives harsh and disinterested answers. he often pulls you into his lap when your ‘friend’ is close; he leaves kisses on your shoulder and neck as he wraps his arms around you, demonstrating that you are his, and he is completely yours. and if the girl doesn’t give up, he’ll give her enough reasons to never look at him or get close to you again.

[suzukiblu]

Ko-fi thank-you sentences for ItsOleander behind the cut; a fake cryptid and a real romantic. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

. . . ‘diamond’, the Batman repeats skeptically. Tim radiates embarrassment, then pulls a bright, shiny stone out of his hidden belt to show to it. The Batman tilts its head again. 

It’s a diamond, yes. An unusually large one, shaped more like a heart than any traditional cut. And it’s new, too. There’s no history to it at all, just faint traces of determined perfectionism and something a little hesitantly hopeful, all burnt in fire and care and pressure. And not something stolen or reclaimed, like one from a Cat would be. 

Though its new Robin tastes just a little bit like a Cat, doesn't he, it realizes. 

Hm. 

That’s different. 

diamond, the Batman says, leaning down to inspect it more closely. 

“He, uh, made it,” Tim says. “Like–for me? I mean, he thinks I’m–a bird, kind of, so he thought I’d like something, uh . . . shiny, you know? Like a magpie or crow or whatever, I guess. Or, um, possibly a penguin. Possibly he thinks I’m a penguin, given this is technically a rock. God, does he think I’m a penguin?” 

hm, the Batman says, frowning consideringly while Tim keeps muttering to himself in concern about penguins, which is understandable, because Oswald Cobblepot isn’t the kind of role model a Robin should aspire after. It’s never had a Robin who could make diamonds, but supposes there's a first time for everything. Not every Robin can do a quadruple backflip or deduce its summoning ritual either. 

. . . or jack tires off a car that doesn't even count as an actual physical “car”. 

Or . . . draw. 

The Batman–pauses. Frowns. 

None of its Robins draw. Why did it just . . . 

Its new Robin flies back up with Dick curled around his shoulders like a cape. Maybe he draws, the Batman thinks, flicking its approximation of eyes towards him. He made a diamond, after all, and cut it to shape. That’s . . . artistic, technically. The human kind of “artistic”, anyway. 

Humans have very strange ideas of what counts as artistic, but the Batman supposes that’s just how humans are. “Just how humans are” has been a necessary thing to internalize, at this point in its existence. 

. . . it still doesn’t know how Jason got the damn tires off, even now. 

“Um, hi. Again. Sir/ma’am. Ma’am/sir?” its new Robin attempts as he lets Dick back down on the ledge, looking nervous. Tim was nervous to meet it too. Dick was too grief-stricken and angry for anything like that, though, and Jason just wasn’t afraid of it at all. 

And . . . 

And–it doesn’t know why it thought “and”, there. It hasn’t had another Robin. There was Batgirl and now there’s the Spoiler, but . . . 

There’s no reason to think “and” there. 

But it thought “and” anyway, didn’t it, it notes, and files that thought away in the place where its mind would go. 

If it had one, obviously. 

“Baaaaatman,” Tim hisses, Robin’s voice layered back over his own. 

“Batman,” its new Robin repeats, then puffs himself up like he’s displaying plumage he’s not wearing–his colors are bright, at least, but not the right colors; not colors meant for flying. The Batman appreciates the instinct, at least. “Um–I’m Superboy! Hey! Nice to meet you!” 

The Batman glowers. Dick, inexplicably, starts sniggering, and Tim makes a pained sound. Its new Robin–not Superboy–looks more nervous, hiding his hands behind his back. The Batman resists the urge to sweep off to go screech at Superman. Barely resists, but resists. 

Its new Robin is just as new as the diamond he made, though, and clearly worried about its reaction. It doesn’t want him to get the wrong idea. 

It’ll screech at Superman later, though. 

meet, it says, leaning forward over the ledge and letting the shadows of its cape wrap underneath its new Robin’s legs, just in case. Not close enough to touch, but close enough to catch. 

A net. 

Obviously. 

He’s still flying wrong, after all. 

Its new Robin peers down at its trailing cape of a net curiously, looking interested, and then peers at it instead. 

“Huh,” he says. “You’re way nicer than everybody said. Well. Everybody except Superman, anyway. He says you’re super-nice.” 

Hm, the Batman thinks grudgingly. Alright. Maybe Superman isn’t trying to take its new Robin. Maybe he sent it its new Robin, after he woke up alive again and found him flying around Metropolis without a net. That, admittedly, would be more in line with Superman’s usual behavior. And general . . . “Superman”-ness. 

The Batman really does not understand Superman. Superman is a thing of Metropolis skyscrapers and alien skies and rolling farmlands and blazing sunlight, though, which are all far beyond the Batman’s sphere of influence and comprehension, so that’s hardly a surprise. 

It does make more sense if Superman sent it its new Robin, though, as opposed to trying to steal him, so the Batman is somewhat mollified by that. Even if its new Robin apparently doesn’t know his own name. 

. . . ah, the Batman realizes, and tilts its head slowly. 

Not “doesn’t know”. 

Doesn’t have. 

diamond, it says, and its new Robin immediately looks flustered. 

“Oh, uh, I just thought Robin’d like something shiny for his nest, maybe?” he says, and the Batman–pauses. 

‘nest’? it repeats carefully. Tim makes a mortified noise and hides his face in Robin’s wings again. 

“Um–yeah?” Its new Robin looks embarrassed. “I mean, I kinda just assumed he had one, I haven’t, like, seen it or anything. Like, I’m not trying to go into his, uh, private space or–um! I’m not doing anything weird, I swear!” 

The Batman tilts its head. 

The Batman has never seen one of its Robins nest. But . . . 

They grow, don't they, it's distantly reminded. Dick's grown into Nightwing, and Tim fits Robin's wings so differently than he first used to. 

Jason grew too, a little. For what little time it had him, anyway. That hot-tempered, fearless stray fledgling who could do his workings with nothing but scraps from the streets and a length of cold iron became a bright grin and gleeful energy and bold Robin-wings. 

But Jason only got to grow a little, so sometimes the Batman . . . forgets. 

They all grow, though. 

nest? the Batman asks again, looking to Tim. Tim doesn't lift his face out of Robin's wings. 

“Priiiiivate!” Tim hisses, and the Batman can sense the mortification rolling off of him in waves. The Batman frowns, leaning down over him to assess him more closely. Robin's talons give off the impression of dry, cracked wood and awkward mistakes layered over Tim's hidden hands full of carefully-hunted information, and it thinks . . . oh. Tim actually tried to. Didn't manage it, but . . . 

The Batman doesn't know how it feels about that. He's so young. Isn't he? Dick hasn't even nested yet; just courted and flirted and occasionally pined. 

“ROBIN nesssssts, now?” Dick teases, popping up on Tim's other side. Tim makes a strangled noise again and huddles in smaller on himself. The Batman frowns in concern. He doesn't feel injured, but . . . 

“Nooooot Nightwing's . . . busssssinesssss!” Tim hisses, snapping his teeth behind Robin's mask, then visibly sulks. “Stuuuuupid.”

The Batman frowns again. 

[perfectlyoongi]

LONG-DISTANCE!TAEHYUNG who didn’t believe in long-distance relationships until he met you. how was it possible to maintain a loving relationship when kilometers separated you? how could you show love and devotion if you were separated by screens? it was impossible to love someone you had never been with. it was impossible to love someone without really knowing them. so how were people falling into this trap and deluding themselves with fake love? how co— wait. but you… you were different, weren’t you? you managed to attract Taehyung. you managed to make Taehyung question his entire sense of reality. but you weren’t there. you were in another world. but still… in a way, you. “tell me what spell you cast on me. i want to get rid of this curse and talk to you again without thinking about how much i need to be with you.”

LONG-DISTANCE!TAEHYUNG who always has a virtual date planned for you every month. Taehyung was a romantic by nature and, with you two being worlds apart, he had to find another way to express all his love and devotion to you. thank god there are several museums with online visits; thank god there were chat rooms with different games for you; thank god we lived in a time where the internet was the answer to all our prayers. once a month, Taehyung would take you to see and experience the world without leaving the comfort of your home, always guaranteeing and promising that one day all those experiences of yours would be lived in person next to him. “today we see this museum through our screens, but there will be a day when i will be able to take a photo of you next to your favorite piece of art just so you can see which of you is truly a masterpiece.”

LONG-DISTANCE!TAEHYUNG who writes down all the dreams he has about you in a notebook. Taehyung’s mind was in constant motion when he slept, taking him on complex adventures and strange expeditions. and, in so many wild dreams, it was almost a certainty that you would pay Taehyung one or two visits; and it was these adventures that Taehyung remember the most, sharing some of the happiness he had felt in the dream in real life. but the dreams were so many and quite confusing that before telling you, Taehyung needed to write down each moment of the dream in a notebook, making sure that nothing was missed and that everything was perfectly clarified. “this dream is going to be a little confusing, so pay attention. you were at the top of one of egypt’s pyramids, but instead of sand there was only water. so, i showed up there in a little hot air balloon and…”

LONG-DISTANCE!TAEHYUNG who becomes desperate with the distance between you. Taehyung swore he would start banging his head against the walls just to ease the pain he felt in his chest. why were you so far away? what cruelty did Taehyung do in a past life to be suffering immensely in this reality? would the gods be upset that Taehyung loved you more than they loved their immortality? were the stars jealous of all the memories you shared from past lives? would the universe itself be resentful because your and Taehyung’s love was purer than any of its creations? how could Taehyung live every day if you were so far away from him? he just wanted to hug you, kiss you, hold you in his arms, make you happy and make you feel loved and important. and he only wanted you. there. beside him. in this life. was this too much to ask for? “i swear to you that i’m this close to getting on a plane to go see you. i don’t care about my work and i don’t care about my friends. i just want you, i just need you. urgently.”

LONG-DISTANCE!TAEHYUNG who never says goodbye to you. it was a small habit of Taehyung’s, a small detail that always weighed on your mind: why did he never say goodbye to you when you finished talking? when you realized this little curiosity, you went to talk to Taehyung, a little interested in the possible answer he could give you. but, out of so many scenarios you created in your mind, none of them matched the reality of the facts. it was with a serious and expressionless look, completely offended by your question, that Taehyung answered you, giving a little clarity to your heart. “our story is not over yet. why should i say goodbye to it?”

LONG-DISTANCE!TAEHYUNG who offers you a stuffed bear and a bottle of his perfume. when the distance was crueler and there was a need to feel close to each other, Taehyung would ask you to spray the stuffed bear he offered you with his perfume. in a way, that idea of Taehyung managed to deceive your poor heart; when you hugged that bear with Taehyung’s scent, your heart fell into the illusion that you were next to Taehyung and, for small seconds, everything was okay. “i know i’m far away, that’s why i offer you this bear. it may not be very big, but when you spray my perfume, it becomes part of me.”

LONG-DISTANCE!TAEHYUNG who bought you a weekend in your dream city to meet you for the first time. when Taehyung showed you your flight tickets for the same day and the same city, you didn’t understand his idea; it took Taehyung to say that he would wait for you for you to understand that small gesture from him. he had remembered that city you so wanted to visit. not only that, but he also remembered the dates of your vacation. and booked a short stay in that city on your vacations. a stay with Taehyung. you were going to be together for the first time in that city that called you so much. your dream was about to begin. “just a few more weeks, my love, and then we can be infinite.”

[stellar-constellations]

Star Patient: Chapter 4 (ONGOING SLOW BURN SERIES)

WARNING: This series will include; possible inaccurate medical procedures and medical setting, gore, toxic relationships that should NOT be replicated in real life, murder, yanderes, cursing, suicide mentions, implications of misandry (male misogyny), and possibly more.

Inaccurate canon-timeline (this is before Ashley and Andrew murdered their parents).

Reader has a small fear of adult men/rape and has a history of suicide attempts.

Incest is not Wincest.

Amnesiac! Obsessive! Patient! Andrew Graves x Yandere! Nurse! Reader:

Wordcount: 11,018 words

Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, current chapter, chapter 5, chapter 6, chapter 7, chapter 8, chapter 9 (in the works)

Want to listen to music while reading? Check out the Star Patient's Official Playlists! Multiple different playlists and genres!

        "Andy."

        "Hey Andy, wake up..."

        "Andrew."

        "Andrew, wake up!" 

        Andrew shot awake, before letting out a hiss, clutching his head as it pounded terribly. He cradled his head, before turning his attention to his bedside, where Ashley stood. 

        "What are you doing here?" Andrew questioned, still holding his head. "You manage to worm your way in here that quickly after getting banned?" 

        "Hospital security sucks." She hummed. "That, or they just hire any idiot off the street."

        "Maybe you can get a job here." Andrew commented sarcastically, earning a half-hearted glare from his sister. "But you still didn't answer my question. Why are you here?" 

        "Well, how are you healing? Are we ready to get out of here?" Ashley questioned, sitting down on his bedside, the uneven distribution of weight on his bed causing his injured legs to shift, making him wince. 

        "I don't know..." he hissed between his teeth as pain shot through his legs and head. "I think it'd be best for me to stay here until I can walk again. We have no where to go when I heal up, and the nurse said I'd have to be bedridden for a few weeks to make sure my legs heal and get strong again." He spoke. "I bet there's probably going to have to be physical therapy too for my legs, so I can walk and crap." 

        "Ugh... healing broken bones takes too long. I feel like a kid watching their grandpa die." She groaned, physically deflating. 

        "What's the rush?" Andrew questioned. "We're out of our old city, and it's not like anyone's following us anymore." 

        Ashley had a look on her face, a flash of hesitancy appeared on her face, gaining Andrew's immediate interest. "I just... I had a dream last night, from the demon, and..." she paused, looking away as she thought what to say.

        "And...? And what?" Andrew questioned, prompting for her to go on.

        "Ah, never mind." She huffed, a little frustrated. "It's not something you can help with, being bedridden and all." 

        "Are you sure?" Andrew questioned, seeming concerned. "You can tell me—" 

        "Don't worry about it, Andy!" Ashley smiled, plastering on a fake smile. "It's nothing too big. So, how are the nurses and doctors treating you?" 

        "Good..." Andrew muttered. 

        He was concerned about Ashley's strange behavior, but he knew that if she didn't want to talk, she sure as hell won't. 

        "They're all fine... Some of the nurses and doctors here are pretty weird, but the one nurse that takes care of me seems pretty nice." Andrew explained. "but, she works in the pediatric branch so I don't see her much." Andrew quickly added, hoping that his lack of time and attention to the nurse would save him from another argument between the siblings.

        "A nurse? Is she pretty?" Ashley questioned, keeping up her innocent smile.

        Andrew knew this trap very well. He opted to look away from her eyes, staring out the window at the daylight outside.

        "No..." he lied. "I wouldn't say that."

        "Really? Even with her pretty (e/c) eyes and (h/c) hair?" Ashley questioned.

        When did Ashley meet (Y/N)? Ashley had never been in the hospital during the night, so there's no way she met her inside the hospital.

        "How did you know what she looked like? Did you meet (Y/N)?" Andrew questioned, curious as he turned his gaze back at Ashley.

        "I knew it..." Ashley muttered, a distasteful expression on her face. 

        "What?" Andrew questioned, confused.

        "Don't worry about it." Ashley spoke, standing up from the bed's end, the small movement causing Andrew's legs to hurt a bit. "I'm gonna go grab food. I didn't get any on the way here. I'll see you later, Andrew." Ashley smiled.

        Before Andrew could open his mouth, Ashley walked out of his room, exploring the hospital as she avoided the nurses and security guards who could recognize her. She was able to snatch a scalpel lying in one of the empty doctor offices while a nurse was cleaning the exam table, headphones in her ears as she blasted music. Quite unprofessional really, but it helped Ashley get a weapon that was actually useful rather than an empty handgun. 

        She shoved it in her pocket and waited around the hospital for hours, changing her hiding spot every now and then. She made sure to stay in the pediatric branch, the branch Andrew said that pretty little nurse worked in. In one of her hiding spots, two little boys were rummaging around before they discovered her.

        The two had been looking around for their parents after escaping their hospital rooms, Ashley figured due to them calling out “Mom! Dad!” in the hallways. They got to her hiding spot and opened the white curtain she was hiding behind, looking to see if their parents were behind there (kid logic, it makes no sense).

        Before the two could scream, Ashley quickly covered their mouths with her hands.

        “Don’t be brats now, stay quiet.” She hissed.

        They looked at each other, then her, before nodding. Ashley looked hesitant to let them go, but she didn’t want to be discovered, so she moved her hands from their mouths, wiping her hands on her shirt.

        “Are you a ghost?” one of the kids whispered.

        “No.” She answered, her expression a mix between boredom and displeasure.

        “Are you a nurse?” the other questioned. 

        “No.” Ashley scoffed, her tone almost sounding offended that they had the audacity to say that. “Like I’d work with kids."

        “So, who are you? What are you doing here?” one of the blond boys questioned.

        “I’m playing hide and seek with one of my friends.” She lied. “Leave, you’re gonna give away my hiding spot.” She huffed, grabbing the curtain and closing it to shield her from view.

        Before the kids could ask to play too (having already forgotten their parents), they heard footsteps, followed by a voice.

        “What are you two doing?” a female questioned, her shadow being seen through the curtain. 

        Both of the boys jumped, letting out squeals as they turned to look at her. Ashley grabbed the scalpel she stole out of her pocket, holding it tightly in her hand. Whether it was the she was looking for or not, she’d kill her if she gets discovered.

        “N-nothing! Just… playing!” one of the boys spoke nervously.

        Good… Ashley thought, smirking. 

        “I’m Tom, that’s Jerry.” One introduced themselves.

        “Like the cartoon?” the nurse questioned.

        Funny. Ashley thought sarcastically, rolling her eyes at the joke.

        “Um… yes?” one of them spoke, hesitant in their answer.

        “Well, it sure matches you both, since you sneaked out of your rooms.” The nurse commented. “Who are you talking to?” she questioned.

        Ashley’s grip on the scalpel’s handle tightened, wiggling her shoulders to loosen up a bit in case the nurse got too curious, getting ready to kill her.

        “Come along now.” The nurse spoke.

        Ashley watched the two small shadows walk away from her hiding spot. The nurse stayed for a second, keeping her attention on the curtain, before she guided the two boys away from her. Ashley peeked her head out of the curtain, seeing a nurse with two little boys walking away. The nurse had (h/c) hair, but Ashley couldn’t see the color of her eyes.

        Damn. Ashley thought. I think that was just my target…

        She couldn’t be certain per se, but it was certainly the best description so far. 

        Well, it’s not the end of the world. In fact, it’s probably for the best. If she killed the girl in this hospital, not only could she get medical assistance from others in the hospital if something goes wrong, but it’d be a pain in the ass to hide the body somewhere here too (not to mention the security cameras). If someone died in the hospital, they’d check the security cameras and find Ashley, then Andrew would be in trouble too since Ashley walked in his room and he was left unharmed. 

        If she can’t kill her in the hospital, she’d just kill her at home. She can just hitch a ride in (Y/N)’s car, it’s really not that hard. Ashley can just follow the girl out of the hospital and either threaten her with the empty gun (not like the nurse would know) or she can just unlock her car depending on her car’s model.

        Ashley made sure to follow behind (Y/N) for the rest of the night. Luckily, she didn’t have to wait too long. After rushing out of the staff room, she ran to the elevators. Ashley took the chance to rush down the hallway and slide down the hospital staircase railing, reaching the elevator’s lobby. She followed (Y/N) out of the hospital lobby, following her to her car. 

        (Y/N) unlocked the car and hopped in the driver’s seat, Ashley timing opening and closing the door from her the back passenger side on her right. (Y/N) buckled her seatbelt, turning up the radio to a random jazz station this late at night and sitting in her car, thinking in silence.

        (Y/N) seemed to be muttering to herself, this combined with the radio on allowed Ashley to situate herself onto the car floor, away from (Y/N)’s vision. Maybe if (Y/N) wasn’t so upset, or maybe if she drove in silence without the auditory distraction, she would’ve noticed Ashley behind her; but she didn’t.

        Ashley decided not to kill (Y/N) at the moment. If (Y/N) died, they’d crash and Ashley could potentially die or be hospitalized; which would give her a one-way ticket to jail after they examine (Y/N)’s body and realized she didn’t die from the crash.

        (Y/N) kept muttering as she drove, seemingly annoyed. Ashley was a bit curious of what she was so upset about (Penelope’s potential crush for Andrew, she was upset about) but Ashley stayed quiet; it would be pretty stupid to say “hey, what are you muttering about?” when you snuck into your victim’s car to kill them. 

        The drive wasn’t too long, but to Ashley it felt like an entirety. When the car stopped, (Y/N) turned off the radio and stayed in the car for a few minutes, her hands gripping the steering wheel as she stared into space absentmindedly. She finally let out a sigh, then unlocked her car and hopped out. (Y/N) locked the car and walked to her apartment door on the first floor outside, opening the door and shutting it behind her. 

        Ashley undid the car door lock on the inside, popping up the lock button and carefully exiting the car (after a small heart attack from the inner lights of the car turning on once she opened the door). She made sure there were no people in the parking lot, then she shut the car door behind her and ran up to (Y/N)’s apartment. 

        Ashley walked up to the door, carefully trying the door handle to see if it was unlocked. It was.

        This is almost pathetic how easy it is…

        Either the work day tired her out, or she really has no common sense or street smarts.

        Ashley slinked into the apartment, the house pitch black. (Y/N) didn’t even bother trying to light up the house, now this was starting to get almost sad.

        Ashley crept carefully through the hallway, using her hands to guide her through the dark. Ashley made it to an opening that led into the living room, the only source of light being the window that showed the sun starting to rise.

        (Y/N) was on her back as she laid on her couch, staring up at the ceiling silently, no thoughts seeming to go through her mind.

        Okay, now this is depressing. Very depressing. Ashley almost felt a little sorry taking her life; or, what was left of it really, which wasn’t much it seemed.  

        Ashley carefully walked past the depressed nurse, finding her kitchen. Ashley decided she didn’t want the scalpel anymore and she traded it for a long kitchen knife instead, 8 inches long with a sharp, pointy blade. 

        She held the knife as she explored more of the house, finding (Y/N)’s room. The room was probably the most decorated of the house, with small plotted pants in the window (surprisingly alive, a comparison to their soon-to-be-dead owner). Her room wasn’t decorated much, having a dresser, a closet, a bookshelf of books, a bed, and a desk. Her walls were pretty plain, and she barely had anything on her dresser to hold other than a multimedia center on it.

        Even her bedding was a plain grey, but there were colorful soft plushies that covered the bed to brighten up the room.

        Ashley’s unsure if that’s childish or even more pathetic, needing plushies to replace humans? That’s just depressing.

        Ashley was starting to doubt if it was even worth killing this woman, her life is already pathetic enough as it is. Ashley even contemplated if someone would even miss her. For now, Ashley hid behind the bedroom door and waited for (Y/N) to walk in… whenever she decides to stop sulking on the couch.         .         .

        (Y/N) laid on her couch, staring at the ceiling pathetically. She couldn’t be bothered to think, or even recall her day. Days and week just all just seemed to blur into one now. If one of her patients told her this is how they felt in life, she’d be considered and talk with Doctor Ryan about scheduling an appointment with a therapist; but (Y/N) had been living like this since she was a child. It doesn’t affect her as much as it did when she was a child.

        Being alone doesn’t hurt anymore.

        I need to get up and shower… (Y/N) thought. 

        She turned on her side, staring at her reflection in her TV. She looked pathetic curled up on the couch like that. 

        She wanted to get up and get ready for deal, get rid of all the germs and hazardous matter that was stuck on her clothes and skin, but walking to the bathroom just seemed like a challenge. 

        She groaned, pausing a few seconds, before getting up from her couch and sluggishly walking to her room.

        I just need to shower, eat a meal, then sleep. I should be feeling better tomorrow. She thought, telling herself the same lie she’s told herself for years. 

        She walked down her hallway, a plain hallway. It was nothing but bare wall, just about as empty as she felt here alone. She had no paintings to put up (and deciding what she’d hang up would be too much of a struggle). She didn’t want to hang up any of her awards or accomplishments, they held no meaning if her parents couldn’t see the victory or praise her for it. She had no family pictures, and even if she did, she wouldn’t have felt pride about the woman that would stand in the frame—not herself or her mother.

        She let out a soft sigh, maybe she should get a pet? Sleeping in a bed covered with stuffed animals doesn't really make loneliness any better, just makes sleep more comfortable. Pets are great for depression too! But it'd be so bothersome trying to choose one, yet alone have time for it... maybe she could just get her a reptile, something that can live inside of a habitat and won't need much care; be independent and uncaring to touch, unlike her own needs.

        She opened her bedroom door, flicking on the light switch. She stepped inside, rummaging through her drawers for a comfortable set of pajamas. Ashley stood in the corner, watching (Y/N) from behind the open bedroom door, before she decided to take her chance. 

        She carefully crept behind (Y/N), a kitchen knife in hand, one she stole from (Y/N)'s kitchen since Andrew wasted all the bullets in her gun when he shot that hitman in the park. She was a little nervous, it’d be her first kill without Andrew or the help of her demon friend.

        As much as she’d like to give (Y/N)’s soul to the demon, this felt more like a personal kill. Surely the demon wouldn’t mind too much if Ashley gave them a dead body instead of a living person.

        Ashley raised her knife in the air, planning to hit (Y/N)’s neck. She’d rather make this quick, they’re in an apartment complex so there’s neighbors around; she’d rather not have anyone hear what’s going on.

        Before Ashley could plunge the knife down, (Y/N) turned around, her clothes in hand as she looked at Ashley. Her eyes widened, surprised, before it trailed to the silver blade in her hands.

        “…Hey?” Ashley smiled, feigning an amused smile to hide the nervousness she felt in committing this act alone for the first time.

        “Are you… trying to kill me with my own kitchen knife?” (Y/N) questioned, recognizing the blade almost immediately.

        She even looked a bit annoyed that Ashley had the audacity to kill her with her own knife, her own money and cooking utensil being used against her. That’s indeed a bit frustrating once you push away that fear, recognizing you’re about to die.

        “Uh, yeah?” Ashley confirmed. “Are you gonna fight, or is this gonna be—“ 

        (Y/N) quickly grabbed her bottle of perfume before Ashley could finish her sentence, spraying Ashley in the eyes. 

        Yeah, not easy, it seemed.

        “Fuck!” Ashley hissed, squeezing her eyes shut as she swung her knife rapidly in the air. 

        (Y/N) was trapped between Ashley and the dresser, trying to avoid the knife before it slashed her forearm. (Y/N) took the chance, using her dresser for leverage as she placed her foot on the dresser for a boost, smashing her shoulder into Ashley’s chest, pushing her away. 

        Ashley stumbled on the ground, the knife laying next to her as her eyes stung from the potent citrusy perfume. (Y/N) rushed past Ashley, but Ashley heard her steps and reached out. With luck, she successfully grabbed (Y/N)’s leg and tripped her, resorting in her falling right next to Ashley. 

        “Fucking bitch.” Ashley hissed venomously, feeling for her knife through her blurred vision.

        She felt the cold blade, reaching a bit lower and grabbing the handle, keeping a strong hold of it. She kept ahold of (Y/N)’s leg as she stabbed her calf, hitting bone. 

        A terrible sharp and tingling sensation shot through (Y/N)’s leg, seeing white for a second as the pain caught up. (Y/N) let out a gasp, verging on a scream, before Ashley raised the knife once more, plunging it in a spot near the  first wound.

        (Y/N) reached back and kicked Ashley in the face a few times, resulting in Ashley letting go of (Y/N)’s foot. Ashley groaned, standing up from the ground as (Y/N) clutched her leg, knowing it wouldn’t be wise to try and stand up in case of any tearing or excessive bleeding. It’s not like she could run far now.

        Ashley stood over her, tears in her eyes as she did her best to see through them and fight the stinging. They both glared at each other, needing no words to show their distaste in one another.

        “I wouldn’t have to do this if you would’ve just stayed away from Andrew.” Ashley spoke, glaring down at her.

        “Not my fault he prefers me. Maybe if you weren’t so obsessive and insecure he could somewhat tolerate your sorry ass.” (Y/N) retorted, a pained smile on her face to piss Ashley off.

        “You’re one to talk.” She chuckled. “Must be real nice to come home alone, pathetically lounging around lazily.”

        “I’m lazy because of hard work. What do you do for a living other than blowing heads and giving it?” (Y/N) chuckled at her vulgar comment (one with lack of evidence, but it wasn't supposed to be a fact), a smile on her face as she observed Ashley. “Doesn’t take much to use that mouth of yours, considering how big it is from all that big shit you talk.” 

        If Ashley wasn’t mad now, she was absolutely livid now at (Y/N)’s insult. She bent down and grabbed a fistful of (Y/N)’s hair, grabbing a fistful of it as she dragged (Y/N) up. (Y/N) stood on her one leg, keeping any weight off her injured one as Ashley glared at her.

        “I can’t wait to kill you. I’ll even bring your head to Andrew so he could see how pathetic you look with your eyes rolled back and tongue hanging out. Hell, I think I’ll cut that tongue out after I’m done with you, that way you can’t bother the devil with it.” She hissed. 

        “You gonna eat it after? Have your own tongue-action with me since you’re so jealous?” (Y/N) chuckled. “Or would you rather that with your own brother? That’s pretty disgusting, if you ask me. Mommy and daddy didn’t give you enough attention so you had to resort to your own brother.”

        Yes, because (Y/N) definitely had a healthy relationship with her parents to say that...

        “I would never eat you. You’re too salty, and that’s not just your attitude too.” Ashley smirked. “After I cut your tongue out and take your head to Andrew, I’ll give your soul to that demon for some vision, then I’ll dump your body in some alley for some homeless man to use.” 

        “Demon?” (Y/N) questioned. “Of course you’d have connections with demons.” 

        “What can I say?” Ashley smiled as a stabbing sensation hit (Y/N)’s stomach. “I get around.”

        “Yeah…” (Y/N) groaned, a pained chuckle escaping her. “I can tell…” 

        Ashley took the knife out of (Y/N’s stomach, going to plunging again, but (Y/N) quickly used her nails and smashed them into Ashley’s eyes, kneeing Ashley with her injured leg since she couldn’t use her healthy once because she’d just fall once applying pressure to her injured leg.

        Ashley let out a short scream at the feeling. Ashley tumbled backwards as (Y/N) followed, using her weight to hold Ashley down as Ashley thrashed about. Ashley tried to stab (Y/N) again, but (Y/N) grabbed her wrists, the two of them struggling for the knife.

        “Let go!” Ashley shouted, one of her eyes covered by (Y/N)’s sharp thumb.

        “You first!” (Y/N) retorted, knowing very well the both of them wouldn't give up as she moved her other hand to the knife, now having both of her hands to try and fight for the knife. (Y/N) ignored the stinging in her forearm from earlier’s slashing.

        (Y/N) was able to grab the knife from Ashley’s hands after a bit of a struggle and a few small cuts on the finger. She held onto the blade tightly as Ashley tried to keep (Y/N)’s wrist steady. It was proven fruitless as the first stab hit Ashley’s chest, hitting bone. Ashley let out a choked sob, pain pooling out of her mouth and chest.

        (Y/N) scoffed, a bit annoyed at Ashley's struggle. If Ashley would just keep still, it wouldn’t hurt as bad. She was willing to make it quick, but Ashley’s squirming and thrashing around was only making her miss.

        “Stop moving.” (Y/N) hissed, using her injured hand to hold Ashley still by her neck.

        (Y/N) struck the knife down again, stabbing Ashley’s sternum. And again, she stabbed her chest, over and over as Ashley let out pained groans and small whimpers, doing her best to claw (Y/N)’s hands. Her hands weakened, her protests and strangled breaths shortening as her pulse weakened under (Y/N)’s hold while (Y/N)’s pulse and breaths only quickened, as if Ashley was giving her own life to her.

        She kept stabbing...

        She kept stabbing...

        She kept stabbing.

        It was like she couldn’t control her hand, like she had no thought other than the echo in her ears.

        Stab…

        Stab…

        Stab.

        She didn’t stop until her hand was soaked, too wet to hold the knife right. She realized she had been stabbing all the way down to the hilt, eight inches that was repeatedly stabbing into Ashley’s chest.

        (Y/N) paused, staring down at Ashley’s face, both faces void of emotion and thought. 

        I did that. She realized.

        A sick turning sensation lurked in her stomach, making her realize she was stabbed in an vital point. She dropped her knife, groaning as she hissed. She got up off Ashley’s dead body, crawling her way to her bathroom, making sure not to get any blood on her carpet. It would've been better for her if Ashley just kept the knife in her stomach, keeping the wound plugged in, but unfortunately Lady Luck seems to avoid (Y/N) any chance she can. 

        She opened the bottom drawer and pulled out a med-kit. Well, that’s one thing useful about being a nurse, you’re always prepared at home.

        She opened the kit, but paused. She couldn’t just open up her stomach and stitch up the insides, but if she goes to the hospital like this she’d definitely get questioned. (Y/N) groaned, mulling over what she should do. 

        She didn’t mean to kill Ashley. Well, she did in self-defense, but she didn’t mean to do it so cruelly. It was almost like second-nature to harm her.

        But she deserved it, didn’t she? She hurt Andrew, (Y/N) remembers that. Ashley made him jump, she’s the one that broke his legs and gave him internal bleeding in his head. (Y/N) made not know much about Ashley, but she knows how manipulative she is. She remembered hearing Ashley screaming at Andrew the first day she met Andrew. She remembered Ashley accusing Andrew of all the crimes he did; of course, he committed them, but she helped too, so she was still at fault. 

        The Graves siblings, even their name is fitting. Two siblings who put others in their graves, and now one is in their own. 

        (Y/N) couldn’t go to the police, not with this. It was self-defense, maybe with the intent of third-degree murder, a spur of the moment, nevertheless it was to protect herself even if she did get a bit carried away. She surely can’t just blame it all on stress or childhood neglect, she’d be a hypocrite.

        She always refused to let her past get in the way of her future. The love she didn’t receive from her parents, she gave to herself. The support she never received from her parents, she gave to herself. She earned all her awards, her scholarships, her jobs, her money all on her own without any support, encouragement, or financial aid from her parents.

        Her mother didn’t believe she could be a nurse. Her mother never really had any faith in her, but her mother never did stick around her long enough to bother learning who were daughter was.

        “You’re far too apathetic and antisocial for that sort of thing, they'd be scared of you.” Her mother would say. “All you care about is yourself. You’d be fired within the first week for neglecting the kids..”

        Ironic coming from her.

        Her father didn’t want her to be a nurse either, not for pediatrics or adults. 

        “It’s just not a good idea. You’re too sensitive for such things. You couldn’t survive watching kids die everyday, that’s such a depressing job.” Her father would say. “You shouldn’t be a nurse in general. Adult men take advantage of caring nurses, it doesn’t help that you’re so... weak? You're just too innocent and pretty for that kind of work! It’s best you find something else. Do something that makes you happy!” 

        Yeah, she totally refuse to let her past get in her way... Her apartment was as void of color as her. She slept with plushies to cope with her loneliness. On bad days, she has no friends to call or parents who'd listen to her vent, so the stuffed animals listen to her instead. She doesn't ever have energy to eat or shower or clean, the only reason she does all those things is to keep herself somewhat healthy so she wouldn't draw any attention from others. She wouldn't want to be a bother to them over some measly emotions. She's dealt with depression practically her whole life, why suddenly indulge in change if it might worsen her condition. 

        She doesn't want to be happy, that would involve having to put energy into changing herself and her lifestyle, and all she wants to do is spend her energy hopping into bed and sleeping. She wasn't one to care for herself, she liked making other people happy. 

        Kids made her happy. Medicine made her happy. She loved working with kids, caring and nurturing for them like they were her own. She liked being the reason a kid could walk again, or talk, or play, or smile. She liked helping children, giving them the help they needed. She liked being able to change their lives, catch those early signs and prevent them from becoming herself; someone absolutely miserable, depressed, and hating herself. Hell, the only reason she hasn't killed herself was because she doesn't want to be a bother to other people. 

        She liked medicine. She liked studying medical advancements, all the new machines and inventions and vaccines and diseases and all! She liked learning about it all; medical procedures, illnesses and disorders, psychology facts, disorders, injuries, hell sometimes medicine could even dive into philosophy! 

        Medicine and kids made her happy because it was what she lacked as a child. She liked being a pediatric nurse, she liked giving kids the chance to receive help early on so they could be functional adults in life, so they couldn't end up like (Y/N); a mother who couldn't care about her, a misguided father, money being towards bills and education, no relationships or genuine connections or friendships with people, and no joy in life other than sleeping her days away. As a nurse, she could catch onto early symptoms for kids and be able to address the issues before it worsen; whether it'd be physical or mental health, that's why she's studying to be a pediatrician now. 

        But she can't be a pediatrician if she goes to jail. This act of self-defense was far too cruel and grotesque, the judges wouldn't believe that it was for self-defense, far too homicidal and beast-like with how she basically just slashed Ashley's ribcage open. No, she wouldn't win that court case at all. She'd lose her job, and she'd probably never be able to work in medical field ever! She needed to do something.

        She put the med-kit back into her cabinet, instead she took off her shoe and grabbed her sock, plugging up her wound with it. Yes, it was very gross and she felt like gagging at this, but it was to insure she wouldn't bleed out. She had been stabbed in her stomach with an 8-inch knife, so no doubt there would be internal damage she couldn't patch up on her own. She used her other sock to plug in the hole on her right calf, plugging the wound up until it was stuffed despite the pain she felt digging her fingers into the wound. She put back on her shoes without her socks and stood up from the ground

        She quickly got to work, grabbing two large black blankets. She wrapped up Ashley's body in both blankets, ensuring the blood wouldn't drip everywhere, and she dragged the body to her car. She put the body and knife in her trunk and limped back into her house, quickly mopping up the mess using hydrogen peroxide on her floors to completely get rid of all the blood. She put her phone on her charger at home, leaving it so the police couldn't track her location on her phone in case anything happens. She got in her car and drove, going further and further out of the city until a good distance away, going to the woods. She got the dead body and knife out of her car, dragging it a good ways into the dark woods before dropping it. 

        She couldn't leave the body in her apartment, and she couldn't just drop it off somewhere in the city when her DNA was under Ashley's fingernails when Ashley scratched her. She left the knife here too, she didn't want to keep a knife she almost got murdered with, and she didn't want to keep it as a trophy for her crimes either. Here in these woods, this is where the police will least likely find her and the murder weapon, at least for tonight. Tomorrow, (Y/N) will return and dig a grave for her, or maybe she'll luck out a wild animal will feast on her. Even then, nobody will probably miss her other than Andrew.

        Jesus, what is she gonna tell Andrew? She can't just say she killed his sister! Even if he's a runaway criminal, she's one too now! He's probably not against murdering her, even if he doesn't like her better than the other nurses. I mean, she killed his sister, so it's only natural for him to kill her?

        But, his sister was just a runaway, she was a criminal! Maybe there's no police looking for them, but still! (Y/N) was a nurse, she's saved plenty of lives, surely taking one can't be that bad? Especially if she took a wrongdoer's life? 

        Before she could turn around and walk out of the woods, she stopped, pausing. She had this nagging feeling to check Ashley’s pockets. It was like a gut instinct (or perhaps literally being gutted earlier) that told her to check. She got on the ground, undoing the blankets and checking Ashley’s pockets to sate this desire. She first found a gun in her waistband. (Y/N) took the gun, popping out the magazine to check how many rounds there were.

        None, empty. Either Ashley found this gun with no bullets, or she already used them.

        (Y/N) did some more digging and found a scalpel, a hospital scalpel from her work she could only assume. Perhaps Ashley was planning to kill (Y/N) with the small blade, before deciding to steal her kitchen knife instead. The bigger the better, right?

        Finally, she looked in Ashley's pockets once more and found something in one of her pockets. Some black and red occult looking charm.

        She remembered Ashley mentioning how she’d give a demon (Y/N)’s soul in exchange for a vision. Is this their charm that keeps them in contact, or in a contract together? Whatever it was, (Y/N) felt like she should keep it in case it was indeed something to a demon; she didn’t want it going into the wrong hands (as if she could talk). (Y/N) shoved the charm into her pocket, keeping the gun and scalpel now that it had her fingerprints, before turning around.

        Did you see this coming, Ashley? (Y/N) thought, resisting the urge to let a smug smirk form on her face. 

        She limped back out of the woods, hopping into her car and hiding the two weapons under her car seat away from view. She turned the engine on, speeding to the hospital and going ten above the speed limit. It wasn't good for her to be out for so long. She could live with her leg being injured so long as she didn't bleed out, but her stomach could definitely develop to internal bleeding, if not already due to how big that knife was. On her way there, she tried thinking of an alibi. This is a knife wound, so it's mandatory for the hospital staff to report this incident to the police. The police are going to ask her questions about what happened and such. (Y/N) doesn't want to come clean, if she does, her whole life would be ruined! She'd lose the only thing she has in her life that she genuinely cares about; her job. If she loses her job and education, she'd be completely lost in this world with absolutely no passions or interests, she might just develop an interest for putting herself in a grave instead and take her life. 

        She thought about her alibi, before cooking up a shitty one. It's the only one she has for a time like this. She can just say that she was driving to the small local store near her apartment complex after work (thus explaining her hospital scrubs), and when she walked out, she was harassed by a man so she fought him and escaped, then drove to the hospital to get medical assistance. She could say she didn't recognize the man, and that he wore a mask so she couldn't see what he looked like. The store she was thinking about just had their cameras stolen a week ago and they have't bother replacing them yet, so there would be no camera footage to confirm or deny this accusation. Her apartment complex is on a bad side of town too (the rent was cheap there), and their camera footage must not be any higher than a quality of a Nokia, so it most likely didn't catch Ashley sneaking into her apartment, or (Y/N) dragging something out out her apartment. Maybe she can pull this off!

        Sure, it's a bad excuse, but what else does she have? This is the best she can come up with on short notice, especially with no witnesses (which is good), along with no camera footage to protect or challenge her word. They'd just have to believe her because what else can they do? She's obviously injured! People in big cities get stabbed all the time and sometimes the assaulters get away with it, maybe she can do this too! 

        (Y/N) got to the hospital entrance and quickly made sure to do a check in her car to make sure there was no DNA of Ashley's. She hopped out of the car and brushed off any dirt or hair or such on her, making sure her gun and scalpel were hidden under her car seat, before limping into the hospital lobby and getting inside of the ER waiting room. 

        The receptionist sat doing work on her computer before her eyes trailed to (Y/N). 

        “Are you okay?” they questioned as (Y/N) held onto her stomach, applying pressure to the sock.

        “I got stabbed in the stomach and my calf. I’ve been bleeding for quite a while, I reckon I’ll pass out soon.” She explained. 

        The nurse nodded and handed her the paperwork to complete. (Y/N) always thought paperwork in the ER was stupid, but it was to help identify the patient and their insurance and all that important information; even in the brink of death, you need to do work. Pathetic, really. It truly does show something about society, whether it's for your own good or not, even if your writing is alienated due to all of your blood on the paper or your blurred vision making it hard to concentrate. 

        (Y/N) sped through the packets of papers and agreements, doing her best to not bleed onto the paper or the hospital chairs (why are the chairs made of cloth instead of leather anyways? At least leather can be washed easier).

        (Y/N) gave the papers to the receptionist, who accepted it and gave it to one of the doctors at the back room. (Y/N) sat down and waited for a doctor to call her name. Her stomach and leg hurt badly, it hurt to breathe and to walk, and her wounds just kept throbbing, spilling more blood and soaking up her temporary sock-bandages. She’s definitely going to throw away these socks…

        The hospital’s bright LED lights hurt her eyes, giving her a headache. Or maybe the headache was from blood loss? Who knows really, it just hurt to sit here and wait.

        Luckily, she didn’t have to wait too long before a nurse called her name. They helped her stand up from the chair, leading her to their office in quick fashion. They placed her down on the operating table, asking if she could remember her name, age, where she was, who the president was, etc.

        “I’m (Y/N) (L/N), 22 years old. I got stabbed in my stomach by a knife, along with my right calf and a laceration on my right arm.” She informed the nurse as they put on medical gloves.

        A trauma surgeon came in with a tray of alcohol wipes, a medical needle and thread, a medical stapler, and syringe of anesthesia. (Y/N) resisted the urge to groan, she didn’t like needles, but she understood it would make the surgery much easier for her and them.

        (Y/N) rolled up her sleeves hesitantly, feeling self-conscious about the old scars on her wrists despite the more important matters at hand. The surgeon ignored her scars as he gave her the shot. 

        The surgeon pulled up her shirt to show her stomach as the nurse cut a hole on (Y/N)’s pants for her leg, making her remember the make-shift bandages she had.

        “I had to use what I had to stop the bleeding, so I used my socks.” She spoke for her lie. 

        She would’ve said more, but she decided it was best not to in case she accidentally messed up her alibi. She opted to stay quiet, waiting for the anesthesia to take effect so the doctor could begin the quick surgery. 

        .

        .

        When you wake up from surgery or an accident, you’d expect to see bright light, instead she only saw a dim light peeking through. She opened her eyes, waking up and looking around her.

        There was a curtain next to her, the white curtain had a slit and moonlight poured out, barely lighting the room. Her left arm was hooked to a IV, the needle sticking into the crevice of her elbow. The needle was slowing flowing blood into her, causing her to shudder at the thought of a needle stuck inside her.

        Her eyes trailed down to her right arm, seeing her arm covered in bandages. She picked up her sheets, seeing her leg was covered in bandages too. She moved her hospital gown up, seeing her stomach was covered with a medical patch and medical tape to hold it in place.

        This is probably going to take some time to heal. (Y/N) thought, resisting the urge to groan. 

        How fun, she’s going to spend weekend off here in the hospital. Either that, or she’ll stay home bedridden. 

        There was a soft knock on her door, before it opened, showing one of the doctors from the emergency department of the hospital. She had never met any of the doctors or nurses here, they’re always busy and on their feet running around. 

        “Ms. (L/N)?” he questioned, smiling.

        “That’s me.” She nodded. “Hello, sir.” 

        “Hey! Have you just woken up?” he questioned, a clipboard and pen in his hand as he walked over to her bedside, standing over her.

        “Yes.” She confirmed. 

        “Okay.” He commented, then cleared his throat. “So, you’ve been asleep for 18 hours. Usually anesthesia wears off in a few hours and you would wake up from some pain, but you stayed asleep for quite some time.” He spoke, flipping a page threw his papers clamped on his clipboard. “However, you could’ve been exhausted given you hadn’t slept because you were working earlier. Your medical history could’ve also helped contribute to that—hypersomnia and all.”

        Yes, the condition she’s almost positive her mother gave her. Being locked in that small room as a toddler really did affect her sleep patterns and routine. There wasn’t much to do in that dark room other than cry, watch old cartoon re-runs a thousand times, and sleep—she chose the latter. 

        “Yeah, sorry.” She muttered, not sorry at all but still feeling the need to apologize.

        “No worries. So, we did report your case to local authorities since it was a stabbing; you should know, hospital procedure and all.” The doctor spoke as (Y/N) nodding, knowing very well the protocol. “Great. So, there’s actually some officers here to question you about the incident. Are you fine with that?” 

        She nodded, ignoring her nerves that went haywire at the thought of talking to the police. So soon after her crime too! 

        “Okay, so before they come in. Let me explain to you really quick what’s going on.” He spoke, clearing his throat. “So you’re going to stay overnight, well more so over day since it’s 3 A.M. but we’ll look after you. So we stapled up your small intestine, and we stapled the skin of your stomach so that it wouldn’t rip or come undone in a large area like stitches would, along with your right calf. Your right arm has stitches due to how tight the skin is along with how deep the wound was. After two week, you can come back and we’ll remove the staples off your stomach and the sutures. For the next two weeks, you need to eat soft foods and liquids such as soups, breads, puddings, all that."

        “That sounds fine.” She nodded. 

        “Sweet. So, before they come in, is there anything you want or need? Like, do you need to use the bathroom? Or are you hungry or thirsty?” he questioned.

        “No, I’m fine.” she politely denied. 

        She’d rather not drink or eat anything, she felt like throwing up at the moment. She really didn’t feel like getting up and walking to the bathroom with an injured foot at the moment.

        “Okay. I’ll let the officers in.” The doctor nodded, writing a few notes on his clipboard before heading towards the door.

        He opened the door and used his hand to call the officers over. He left the door open as the officer walked in, a female and a male, who walked to (Y/N)’s bedside holding a notepad.

        “Hello, Ms. (L/N), right?” the female smiled. “I’m Officer Jenny and this is my partner, Officer Dixon. We have a few questions for you.” 

        “Nice to meet you.” (Y/N) spoke, flashing the officers a polite smile.

        “So, you’ve been admitted into the hospital for a stabbing, correct?” Officer Jenny questioned.

        “That’s correct, ma’am.” (Y/N) nodded.

        “When and where did you get stabbed?” Officer Jenny questioned.

        “Well, I got stabbed in my stomach by a knife. When I fought them off, they slashed my right arm and they stabbed my right calf.” (Y/N) explained, mentally going over her words carefully as Officer Dixon wrote the information in his notepad.

        “And when did this take place?” Officer Jenny questioned. 

        “Well, it was last night when I got off my shift. I work here at this hospital actually in the pediatric branch.” She added. 

        She was about to go on about her grocery store alibi, but paused. The timeframe won’t match. She took forever to get to the hospital after the stabbing so that she could clean her apartment, dispose of Ashley’s body, and finally get to the hospital. She can’t use the grocery store alibi since not only would be make no sense for her to get stabbed someplace where the cameras are coincidentally shut down, but none of the store employees would mention seeing her when they get questioned by the police, and it wouldn’t help that she decided to drive to the hospital bleeding instead of telling the store to call 911 or herself calling 911. 

        Her alibi is unreliable now, so she needs to quickly act now and change it while acting normal and resist hesitating. The officers’ body-cams would catch their interaction and it would be evaluated by licensed psychiatrists, looking out for any holes in the story, for how her words flow, her vocal patterns, her body language. The alibi is now a death trap.

        “After my shift, I drove back to my apartment and went on a walk in a park. Perhaps 7 P.M, so it was dark because of it being November and all.” She explained. “The park was Pacific North Satellite park.” She added, a park not too far from her apartment complex. 

        “I didn’t bother changing out of my work scrubs because I was just going to shower when I got back to my apartment, and I had left my phone on the charger at home. I was walking down the path listening to nature when I heard footsteps in front of me. Someone came up to me with their hands in their hoodie pocket, a black hoodie.” She explained, lying her way through the story. “They walked past me and quickly slashed my right arm… and… they grabbed my arm and stabbed me in the stomach with their knife… and then when I tried to get away… they knocked me down and stabbed my right calf.” She spoke, pausing her words every now and then to appear distressed as she faked reliving the moment. "I ran back to my apartment, plugged up the most severe wounds with my socks, and drove to the hospital since it wasn't too far and I didn't have my phone to call the police or ambulance. It was late at night, so there wasn't anyone around to ask for help, and I didn't want to be trapped in my apartment in case they decided to follow me...

        “Do you know who they were? Or did you catch what their face looked like?” Officer Jenny questioned as Office Dixon’s blurred, hastily writing down everything he heard.

        “No.” (Y/N) shook her head. “They had a black hoodie with their hood up. They had grey jeans too. They were perhaps around 5’6 tall…” she lied. “I’m unsure of their gender, but I think they were male.” 

        The most common description of a killer, or stereotypical when comparing to Ted Bundy or Jeffery Dahmer. With so little information, it’d be pretty hard to try and identify someone, especially someone who doesn’t exist (but of course, only [Y/N] knows that).

        “Do you think there could’ve been a specific motive or something you provoked?” Officer Jenny questioned, her question almost making (Y/N) scoff.

        Provoke? Provoke? How the hell could I have provoke them? (Y/N) thought, almost forgetting her alibi was still a lie.

        Sometimes she can even lie to herself with how scarily believable her lies are.

        But even if this mysterious murderer she made up didn't have a motive, did Ashley have one? It made her wonder, did Ashley really kill her because she was hated her being Andrew’s nurse? Even then, how the hell did she find out who she was, or even why? Ashley had never seen (Y/N) and Andrew together, at least not without her knowledge. 

        “No, ma’am. I’m unsure why, and I don’t believe I provoked them.” (Y/N) answered.

        “Is there any other information you’d like to tell us?” Officer Jenny questioned.

        “No.” (Y/N) answered.

        Short and sweet, it’s best to leave it all like this.

        “Well, if you ever remember anything or have any questions, make sure to call the department.” Officer Jenny spoke. “If we find any information or such, we’ll give you a call.” 

        “If we find who done it, do you want to press charges?” Officer Dixon questioned, causing (Y/N) to pause and think.

        “No. The process is too time-consuming, besides, I doubt they tried to kill me without a reason.” (Y/N) spoke. 

        Everything happens for a reason, after all. It’s logical to believe so.

        (Y/N) had never believed in fate or destiny, she had always believed everything happens for a reason. She hated the belief of something out of her reach trying to control her or her life. She’d rather choose what she wants to do, not something like fate. (Y/N) believes what she sees, so she doesn’t believe anything that isn’t backed up with facts or evidence. 

        Ashley tried killing (Y/N) for a reason, she said it herself. She'll take the dead woman's word on it since it came from her mouth.

        “I wouldn’t have to do this if you would’ve just stayed away from Andrew.” Her words rang in (Y/N)'s head.

        The audacity of some people, does Ashley truly believe she can control who Andrew sees? It’s not like there was anything wrong with Andrew and (Y/N)’s relationship, they were simply nurse and patient, nothing more and nothing less. Who does Ashley believe she is trying to control Andrew? She doesn’t have his heart, his brain, his body, his thoughts, his mouth, his eyes. He could do whatever he pleases and Ashley shouldn’t be able to do anything about it.

        Well, she can’t now. (Y/N) thought, holding back a chuckle. 

        "Are you sure, miss?” Officer Dixon questioned, surprised.

        “I’m sure. Maybe they had a bad day or something.” (Y/N) shrugged.

        “But you don’t just stab anyone on a bad day, this could be serious.” Officer Jenny spoke, her voice a little harsh compared to her gentle treatment earlier.

        Officer Jenny seems to not like having a killer run around, or have about zero clues.

        “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” (Y/N) sighed. "I'm very tired and I wish to rest.

        “The town next to us, they had a killing in a park too. The victim was a man, he was shot, multiple bullets in his chest.” Officer Jenny spoke quickly, hoping the information could bring some details out of the injured woman. “You happened to be a park too, perhaps this was the same guy! We need as much information as we can. Please miss (L/N), we’re relying on you.”

        “I’m sorry, but I truly don’t know. I don’t have anymore information to give to you.” (Y/N) sighed.

        Officer Jenny’s face hardened as Officer Dixon closed his notepad.

        “Very well. We’ll contact you in case we find any details.” Officer Dixon spoke, nodding his head down in respect and farewell, before telling Officer Jenny with his eyes that it was time to go.

        “Get well soon, miss…” Officer Jenny sighed, walking out of the room with her partner.

        Well, I forgot that part… (Y/N) thought, letting out a breath of relief.

        The park killer from the next door town, right, how could she forget? The victim was a man was found dead on the sidewalk, a clean knife nearby him, no fingerprints. The man had a hood, sunglasses, and gloves; a strange attire to walk around in at night, especially the sunglasses part. He died with six bullet wounds in his chest, the news said. The murder was actually a few days ago, maybe even a week ago. Nevertheless, (Y/N) could bet it was Ashley and Andrew. Ashley had that empty gun on her, which was now under (Y/N)’s car seat. 

        (Y/N) turned her head to the window once the police left. She reached over and opened up the curtains, looking up at the stars, or what she could see. Light pollution in the city is a major pain, you can’t even enjoy nature now thanks to humans.

        (Y/N) looked at the lights outside of the window, it’s the only thing semi-interesting to look at in a hospital bed. She didn’t want to turn on the TV, she knew it was all just re-runs of family-friendly movies like High School Musical or the local news. Unfortunately, hospitals don’t really have any good channels to watch.

        It’s only for one day. (Y/N) thought.

        She just had to deal with this for one day, then she could get back home and sleep. Despite always being so tired, she liked to work. The time she’d take to heal would feel like torture to her. Her depression made her feel a sense of worthlessness doing nothing, so being bedridden is just going to throw her in a depressive state. Usually she’d just get up and work overtime when she feels like this, but she really can’t if she’s injured. 

        Even though she has a reason to be lazing around in bed all day, she's not very happy about it. It's at times like these she wished she had some sort of entertainment in life, or at least friends, people she considered real friends. She had acquaintances growing up, but they just never really did it for her.

        The people she hung around with was only for school, she never bothered hanging out with them outside of school that way she could focus on her studies. Besides, they weren't important people to her, she only talked with them because they had conversed with her first, and it gave her something to pass time with at school. She always did have that closed-off demeanor, it surprised her whole family when she decided she wanted to be a pediatric nurse, and later a pediatrician. 

        (Y/N) stared at the window in deep thought, thinking.

        Maybe she could call her dad. The last time she called him was a month ago, to which she had to leave a voicemail... she never did receive a call back. And after that, she called on her birthday four months... to which she's still waiting for a call back. 

        Well, maybe he's just busy. He has a job and a life outside of his daughter, surely he'll call back eventually. She figured. 

        If she had her phone on her, she'd call and leave another voicemail for him to let him know he's okay.

        Wait, what's the point in calling? She's fine, and she hadn't called him of her condition, so what's the point in calling and telling him that she's still alive? Even if he did answer, what will he say other than a "that's good. I'm glad you're okay. I have to get back to work now." 

        If there's no point calling her dad, then there's certainly no point in calling her mom, for obvious reasons.

        (Y/N) groaned, hitting her head back against the pillow, before letting out a pained whine. Her head pounded terribly, followed by a slight ringing in her ears and a second of her vision blurring. Her right arm shot up to help soothe her head, before she let out a hiss, the movement of her arm causing a sharp pain to shoot up it. 

        "This sucks..." she complained, a pout making way onto her lips. 

        Before she could wallow in her sorrows any further, the door opened, gaining her attention. She turned her head, seeing a familiar man in a wheelchair.

        "Andrew?" she questioned, surprised. 

        "Hey." He greeted, flashing a smile at her.

        (Y/N) internally cringed at the sight of him, not that he was bad-looking or anything, but she wasn't expecting to see him so soon after what she's done. 

        "What are you doing here in the emergency department?" (Y/N) questioned, not bothering if the question sound a bit rude or not; she'll just blame it on the headache if he asks.         

        "I heard from the nurses that you got injured." Andrew explained, rolling his wheelchair up to her bedside.

        "A nurse told you I was here?" (Y/N) questioned, confused.

        Well, that's against hospital policy, giving away patient information like that to just anyone. It made her curious who from the nightshift had the audacity to tell him.

        "Who told you?" (Y/N) questioned.

        "Eh, I don't know. That nurse I had before you." He shrugged his shoulders carelessly, not bothering to remember the name. "It was something something. Started with a P. Maybe it was Pen, or Penny? Or was it Nancy? It doesn't really matter."

        "Penelope?" (Y/N) smiled, almost giggling at his poor attempt to remember the nurse's name. 

        Right, makes sense. Penelope was Andrew's nurse before (Y/N), and Penelope seems to see (Y/N) as a friend, so she probably questioned Doctor Ryan where (Y/N) was. Doctor Ryan must've been informed as soon as he entered the office, considering he wasn't going to be able to teach (Y/N) for a few nights until she got better.

        However, she felt a little happy that he couldn't remember Penelope's name (especially after [Y/N]'s little jealous episode from earlier at the thought of Penelope and Andrew being together. Obviously because she just enjoyed having Andrew as a patient, nothing more).

        "Yeah, maybe that was her name?" he hummed, not bothering to think back if it was actually that nurse or not. 

        Yes, it was Penelope, he might not bother to remember her name, but he remembers her face from earlier when he and (Y/N) had gone to the staff room and Penelope was acting strange. He also remembered how tight and uncomfortable she had done his bandages on his broken ankles, much different compared to (Y/N)'s soft hands and nurturing personality. 

        "She shouldn't be giving away information like that." (Y/N) sighed, chuckling softly. "But thank you for coming."

        It was a little heartwarming to know at least someone cared about her. Even if her parents did, at least her co-worker and close acquaintances did, even reserved patients such as Andrew were worried about her!

        "So, what brought you over here? Did you have a question, or perhaps you need your bandages changed?" (Y/N) questioned, observing his body up and down to see if there was anything out of the ordinary or if he needed any assistance. 

        "No... I just... wanted to see for myself, I guess..." he muttered, looking away from her eyes as he resisted the urge to squirm under her gaze. "I heard you got hurt pretty bad, so I got curious..."

        "You sure you didn't just miss me?" she teased, trying to brightened up or at least lightened the mood into a more comfortable atmosphere. 

        "Don't get ahead of yourself." He chuckled, her words succeeding in her goal as they both smiled at each other.

        His smile softened, his eyes glazing over, seeming to be lost in thought. He seemed unsure of himself, before he just sighed. 

        "So... what happened?" he questioned. "If you don't mind me asking."

        Her own smile faltered, doing her best to remain neutral and not puke her guts out as visions of stabbing Ashley's lifeless body took over her mind, hearing each explicit and disturbing wet splash as her hands slowly started to coat with blood from how violently she was pushing her knife into Ashley's chest, down to the hilt. 

        "I got attacked..." she spoke vaguely, clearing her throat awkwardly as she kept her eyes on him to see if he would believe her. 

        "Do you know by who?" Andrew questioned.

        "No." She spoke quickly, internally cringing at how defensive her tone sounded.

        Andrew's gaze hardened, his intuition not believing her. Of course he wouldn't believe her, living with Ashley basically his whole life had practically made him become a human lie detector. Before he could speak about the matter, she spoke up. 

        "Can you check on Hailey for me please? She was a bit down earlier today, surely you can cheer her up for me? Just don't mention my current condition to her, please." (Y/N) requested, sounding more of a pathetic demand and excuse to get him to leave her alone. 

        Andrew looked hesitant to leave her, before he sighed, nodding his head. "Yeah, sure..." he grumbled. 

        "Thank you." She hummed, giving him a false smile.

        They had a moment to themselves, silently staring at each other, before Andrew turned his wheelchair around and rolled out of the room, closing the door behind him. (Y/N) let out a sigh of relief once she was alone, glad to have avoided the tough subject.

        Maybe she'll tell him one day, once she gets to know him better and can be certain he wouldn't kill her for it.

        She ignored the pain as she squirmed into a comfortable position to sleep in. She needed the rest, and sleep is the body's natural way of healing after her. Her eyes trailed to the curtains, watching the cars on the road zoom past the hospitals and watching as some lights started to shut off, night owls getting ready for bed too just like her. 

        She'll call her parents as soon as she gets out of the hospital, even if they've probably not heard the news or care about it, she still wants some sort of closure from her parents. Maybe they'll even take pity on her and stay on the phone for a bit, ask how she's doing, or what she's doing now. 

        Sounds like a plan. (Y/N) thought, closing her eyes as she ignored her body's pain, waiting for sleep to overtake her. 

I know there hasn't been much of any Andrew and reader moments, but chapter 5 will have plenty, these past chapters have just been plot and character-development and such!

My next series will be a Yandere! Hitoshi Shinso x Yandere! Fem! Reader, so keep watch for that!

To the Ashley fans, I'm sorry for what I've done.

Want more Andrew Graves content? Check out the Andrew Graves masterlist!

Inbox is OPEN for questions about the story and new plotlines/ideas, not for request!

Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, current chapter, chapter 5, chapter 6, chapter 7, chapter 8, chapter 9 (in the works)

Want to listen to music while reading? Check out the Star Patient's Official Playlists! Multiple different playlists and genres!

[mystoriaaa]

FakeCreator!Reader

SAGAU but reader becomes the tyrant imposter who pretends to be the creator. Also has a game system in place because I'm a sucker for those lol

“How about we play a game?” 

“A game?”

“Yes. It'll be a fun, simple game. Just how you like it. It'll even involve that Genshin Impact game you're currently playing.” The person smiles, “I just need you to…”

—

You open your eyes to an unfamiliar ceiling. And suddenly every sense of yours sharpens.

You feel the mattress you're laying down on, it's too soft. You jolt upright at the thought you possibly got kidnapped, looking around the new environment.

It's…fancy. You look down at what you are wearing and… it certainly fits the place you’re in. It feels smooth, something a rich aristocrat person would wear in the past. But that's the thing, you are broke as hell and you certainly aren't that old.

So what is this? Is this some kind of new sick joke kidnappers do nowadays?

A ping from a hologram accompanied by a robotic voice reading it out appears right in front of your dumbfounded face, cutting you off your thoughts. 

[Welcome to the World of Teyvat, player!]

What?

[You are currently inhabiting the body of the so-called “Creator” of Teyvat but the body is actually a fake!] The hologram fakes a gasping sound.

What. 

[Now, you have no choice but to pretend to be the real Creator or else…] It pauses for dramatic effect to reveal horrifying news that you'll definitely not like.

[You’ll be executed! Oh no!]

“WHAT?!” You yell in shock, at the absolute absurdity of it all. Not knowing that it would alarm the people guarding outside the door.

“Your grace?! Are you okay?!” The door slams open, and that's when you know, you are fucked.

Your grace. You internally curse that title, the one commonly used for the Creator. Towards the imposter that was actually the real one or to the fake pretending to be one. Which you are supposedly the latter.

Two people entered the room, and you felt the sudden movement of the wind despite the closed room. But that's just your imagination, right? Is what you would like to believe but…

A familiar yet foreign appearance appeared. That– That shouldn't even be real. You dig your nails into your palm, hoping the pain will wake you up.

Yet you feel fully awake as Venti, a game character, goes to you. Looking all over your body for non-existent injuries while your mind breaks down, crumbling at the horrid realization. 

His brows furrowed, gently prying your hand open, “Your grace? Is something wrong?” He asked in a worried tone.

You look at him, you don't know what expression you have but Venti flinches and ask again, “What’s wrong, your grace?” 

You take away your hand that Venti was caressing, hugging yourself as you close your eyes to process what was happening. 

You’ve— you’ve just somehow isekai’d like in those shows you watch. And not just any normal isekai, but in the body of the fake Creator of those SAGAU fanfictions you read.

“Your grace, may I ask what happened?” A deep, smooth voice filled with concern but all it does is make your face pale.

Oh. You are absolutely doomed.

Warning bells ring in your head, the two’s voices blurring yet the words of the hologram echoes clearly. 

If they discover you're the imposter, you will die.

The world becomes distant as your chest tightens, everything feels real and not at the same time. You don't remember when you fainted, but all you wanted was for this to be a dream and wake up in your world again.

The last thing you see is the blue screen, with words that feel like it's mocking you.

[We hope you enjoy your experience and live to see another day!]

—

[Congratulations! You received a Memory Fragment from earning the achievement: <Trapped in another world?! The life of a Creator Imposter starts now!> Obtained from a successful transmigration.]

[Accessing Memory Fragment… Success!] 

[Memory Fragment playing now.]

“How dare you?! You dare to question me?!” Someone yells in anger. A voice so strangely familiar to you.

You try to remember whose voice it is, it almost comes to you but leaves when you come close to remembering. You know it's someone you know very well yet you can't put your finger on it. 

“P-Please, your grace… I did not mean to—” A different person’s voice, someone unfamiliar this time, begs desperately but was cut off by another angry yell.

“You dare to talk back to me?! Morax! Barbatos! What are you doing, you slow and incompetent acolytes! Bring death to this man right this instant!”

You flinch at the names spoken out, so so familiar but you just can't seem to remember. Your head hurts as you try to force yourself to recall what you forgot.

A clear, low voice void of emotions speaks, “We apologize for being late, your grace. We will do as you command.” 

A slap echoes loudly. 

Weird enough, you faintly felt the contact. As if you were the one that hit someone. But that can't be? You can't even see, let alone move…

“Useless. Useless, I say!” 

All of a sudden, your vision comes back to you slowly. Your senses are getting clearer and clearer.

Then, you feel your mouth speaking, your body moving even as you try to fight against it. You start to panic when you can't control your own body.

“It is an honor for you to be personally serving me. Yet you dare to treat me like this?” 

You try to scream, try to take back control of your body but all you do is point at someone kneeling before you.

“You seem to forget, you wretched Archon. But I am your—”

Suddenly, it comes back to you. Your mind momentarily freezes at you remembering everything. You somehow got put into the game you were playing and became someone you did not want to.

That's right, you are now the… 

“—Creator! The Creator of Teyvat! The ruler of this world! And you will respect me, worship me as I deserve.”

[Memory Fragment finished! Collect Memory Fragment to access more of the Imposter’s memories! It will surely help your survival. You can do it, player!]

—

You open your eyes. And once again, you see that unfamiliar ceiling. You close it one more time, just in case.

To your absolute dismay, it does not work.

You pinch yourself once, twice yet nothing happens, you stay in this dream-like place.

You sit upright with a headache from the imposter’s memories you received. Massaging your forehead as you try to calm down.

“Your grace?” Ugh, that cursed title. The proof of your annoying situation. “Does your head hurt? Would you like me to get you medicine?”

You look at the source of that voice and lo and behold, it's Zhongli from the hit game Genshin Impact. Sitting at the seat beside the bed.

If it was in any other situation, you would cry from joy meeting one of your characters. But now, you want to cry for a different reason.

“No. I am alright.” You say rather stiffly, you weren't sure how you should be speaking. Should you be screaming insults everywhere like the imposter you saw in the memory or something?

“I understand. I brought you lunch, would you like to eat?” Oh, the beautiful voice you love to hear whenever he was on screen. Yet it chills your spine, scared at what he might do when he finds the truth.

This would have been much, much better if this was all a dream. But noo, you stare at the hologram over Zhongli's face, this is unfortunately the reality. 

You sigh, “Give it to me.” Zhongli obliges. 

Well, at least the food is good. Even better than what you have in the previous world, you won't lie. Makes your remaining time alive better at least.

…You mentally slap yourself to stop these thoughts or else you might throw up.

After you finish eating, Zhongli takes the tray and says, “Dr. Baizhu said you fainted from feeling overwhelmed. Is there something troubling you?” 

You would feel bad at his worried tone if not for the fact you want to run away at the moment.

“It was nothing, you do not need to worry about it. I will be fine after resting.” You say with a fake calmness you did not feel, and hope it sounds like the real owner of this body despite the lack of yelling.

But then his eyes glint, piercing at you, looking like he just found the answer to his questions. And all you can think is that you already failed.

Standing from his seat, “I will be leaving then. Rest well, your grace.” Bringing the tray with him, the sound of the door closing made you slumped to the bed. 

That was so stressful…! Silently groaning to yourself, and looking at the annoying blue hologram box in front of you.

“You! Bring me back home right this instant!” You tried not to yell loudly, fearing that someone might hear you and come in. 

[Sorry to disappoint, player! But I cannot do that!]

“And why not?!” 

[Your original body has died, no medium can be used for you to access the previous world. Would you still like to proceed?]

A yes or no appears, and you ask in distraught. “I’m– I’m dead..?” 

[Yes. Returning would permanently make you disappear. Would you like to proceed?] The monotone voice irritates you to no end, it felt like it was mocking you.

“I— Why?” Your voice comes out quivering. You don't know what you are trying to ask, you just wanted answers.

[Please calm down, player! At the end of the day, this is all just a game.]

A game. 

A game. 

JUST A FUCKING GAME?!

You throw the nearest thing near you, the pillows passing through the holographic screen. “You brought me to this world and you say it is just a game?!”

Being quiet be damned. Fearing someone entering be double damned. You have to somehow make this screen pay for what they said.

You didn't want to be in this situation! This place where powerful people from fiction can hurt you in the most painful way possible before killing you. Even if you died and couldn't go back, you still wanted to return home because it's better than being here.

But this annoying blue box telling you it is just a game felt like it was trampling over all the fear and desperation you had. 

When you run out of pillows, you go for the glass of water at your bedside table and throw it. It shatters and the water gets everywhere on the floor. With nothing else to throw, you attempt to throw the big fluffy blankets too—

Venti enters the room and sees you trying to lift a clumsily folded blanket but it keeps falling off. You complain the third time it falls off again, “This stupid blanket!” 

Venti gets near you, holding you as you shake him off. “Your grace, what is the matter?” You keep thrashing around until you accidentally hit him. 

All of a sudden, your anxiety spikes and anger gone. You almost forgot that this is someone who could kill you, and you just hit him. You immediately try to apologize, “S-Sorry—” 

But you stop at Venti’s look of confusion and disbelief. What? Why is he... You rack your brain at the expression until you realize. 

The one you're right now is the imposter who's pretending to be the creator. The one who acted like a tyrant in that memory you received. You panic, you're already acting so out of character already.

You try to think of a way to fix it so they won't get suspicious until Venti brings your hand to his cheeks, smiling almost crazily, “It’s okay, your grace. This body is your creation, you have the right to do anything to me as you wish.” He lets go of your hand, but he waits. As if encouraging you to hit him.

Chills went down your spine, you remember how insane the behavior the playable characters have towards the Creator. It was all for fun when you read them, because it was fiction. But actually experiencing it yourself now scares you. 

Especially when you're just an imposter.

Swallowing the lump from your throat, you summon all the little courage you have left and say, “...Leave, Barbatos. I wish to be alone right now.” 

He looks at you, the same way Zhongli was looking earlier and you clench your clothes, trying to stop yourself from trembling.

“...Of course, your grace.” It feels like forever until he finally shuts the door, leaving you alone to yourself. But you are also left with a sense of foreboding.

You lay down on the messy bed, closing yourself off from the world. Comforting yourself that everything will be fine.

But a ping from that grating system comes, along with it emotionlessly reading a new notification that makes you fear for your life even more.

—

Venti closed the door behind him. He looked at the other archon standing guard at the door of the Creator’s room.

“Barbatos.”

“Morax.”

Silence echoed until the Geo Archon spoke.

“Did you notice it, bard?”

“Ehe~ Of course I did, why wouldn't a super devoted acolyte like me notice?”

The Anemo Archon replied lightheartedly, but his gaze intense as he stared at the taller god.

“Indeed. It would be quite shameful if us two, the last remaining of the original Seven, did not realize this.” 

The bard chuckled, “You’re right!” with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. “Wanna say it at the same time then? 3…”

The Geo Archon sighed tiredly yet complied nonetheless. 

At the end of the count, the two’s expressions turned serious. 

And spoke of the truth that could change everything.

“The Creator has changed.”

—

[Warning! Warning! The playable characters are starting to suspect you!]

[igotanidea]

(5) Cheater: Dick Grayson x reader

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

A/N: bit of a filler, but I promise we'll get more action in the next part, so deal with me here guys XD

***

„Is it done?”

„Yes. Yes, it’s fucking done. Hope you are fucking happy.”

“You don’t see the bigger picture now and-“

“Fuck the bigger picture! And fuck you! I hurt two people because of your stupid plan!”

“Be careful with how you talk to me.”

“I’m talking to you exactly the way I should!”

“You act like a moody teenager. All that rebellious attitude and for what? In the end, for obvious reasons you are going to do what I tell you.”

They both knew that was true. But it did not lessen the pain of what happened merely hours ago.

***

There was no way in hell Y/N was going to forgive him. Ever.

He did the unspeakable. Promised her his love and then took it away to another woman. The women he allegedly had no ties with.

So it not only made him a cheater but also a liar.

And all of that right after she had the most amazing intimate experience of her life.

The second she fled his and Sienna’s apartment and found herself in her own four walls, Y/n made a promise to herself to tear it from her mind. However, it seemed like her body had quite a different plan.

For some reason everything felt different. Her skin. Her belly, her breasts, her legs, her—.

No, no, no…

They say you always remember your first time. That it tends to haunt you and everything that follows is forever tainted with the way you’ve been treated then.

For Y/N it felt like the memory of Dick’s tender touch, gentle movements and passionate kisses would forever be overshadowed by the heartbreak that came right after.

So he made her a woman by both taking and breaking her.  

***

While Y/N took the easy, if not cowardly way out, Dick and Sienna were rooted to the ground watching each other in the silence that was deafening.

What now?

Who was supposed to say something first?

And say what?

What words could possibly mitigate the situation?

The truth?

He couldn’t tell Sienna that it was all fake, that he never did and still does not love her. Enough damage has been done. Besides, there was also “the plan”. The great fucking batman plan to get to that stupid villain and prevent harming people.

Dick has already sacrificed so much for “the plan”. Losing Y/N. Causing her pain. Making her believe like he didn’t care. That he just wanted to get her to bed, fuck and toss her away. It truly should have been Jason to get assigned to this mission. He would just barge inside, force information out and kill whoever needed to be killed.

Boom! Mission completed with no girls with broken hearts.

But no.

Instead it was Dick with his conscience stained. Watching the woman he loved running away with tears and the woman he was using with a blank face expression.

“Sienna…” he started with a shaky voice, taking one step forward, expecting her to start screaming or pull back and move out of his reach. But she didn’t.

“Are you done now?”

“Done?” He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You had your fun?” the woman asked and much to Dick’s shock there was not much anger in her voice.

“I—um. What? Aren’t you mad?” It was most probably idiotic to ask her that, but Sienna’s casual approach to the situation was quite disturbing and the words left his mouth before he could think them through.

‘Mad?” she looked at him with wide eyes. “No. No I’m not mad, baby. A little disappointed maybe. But not mad. I mean, you were just lonely, right?”

“Um—.” What the hell was happening here!?

“Come on. Y/N is a wonderful person, but she also seems lonely so—”

“You were wrestling with her minutes ago!” Dick exclaimed. Now it started to feel like he was functioning in a different reality. The one where everything was abstract, the sequence of events made zero sense and women were strangely  understanding when it came to sleeping with someone else. But it could also mean that in that reality he had a chance of having Y/N forgive him, because clearly logic was non-applicable.

“Sure. Can’t have her thinking like she can just barge in and take what’s mine.” Sienna stepped forward, smiling sadly “but right now, she’s the one gone and you’re here with me. So it’s what speaks volumes about who you love.”

“Yeah.” He sighed, looking down, his hands shaking, heart racing.

“I’m still hurt though… After all, you slept with another girl while thinking I was away.”

As much as he wanted to tell her to shove her hurt up her ass, he couldn’t. And this time it was not only because of the plan, but also because Sienna deserved better from him.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered earnestly. He was sorry for the entire mess up, but not sorry for taking things further with Y/N.

“I know.”

“What can I do--?”

“I don’t know. Not yet. But I do want us to work through it. Okay?” The woman smiled softly, giving him the vulnerable look that always softened him, no matter if it was a girl, child or stray cat.

“Okay…” He promised, pulling Sienna to his chest, feeling her arms wrap around him, hating his life, Nightwing, Batman and everything In between.

***

He stayed home that night. Purposefully putting his phone on silent mode, giving no shit about whatever Bruce might want from him and he was now probably planning next steps of putting the mission to the end.

He stayed with Sienna.

Laying on his side of the bed in the darkness with a broken heart.

***

His arms were around her, but Sienna knew that his heart was aching for Y/N.

She could have had him next to her, she could have him staying instead of chasing after the other, but she didn’t have his heart. It was forever out of her reach.

But that was something she could live with. Sacrificing her dignity and self-esteem as long as he was physically here. And while she was in deep emotional pain, she was going to endure.

Laying on her side of the bed in the darkness with a broken heart.

She had to.

***

Y/N was tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep. Emotions clouding her judgment making her unsure whether she was the victim or the culprit. Or maybe both. She never should have believed him. She never should have done this to another girl. And to herself. 

She only had herself to blame.

Laying on her side of the bed in the darkness with a broken heart.

***

“Now that we made them break—”

“You are a monster, you know that?”

“Even a monster has his reasons for doing things. Or should I remind you what’s on stake here?”

“No. No you don’t have to…”

“Good. So you listen carefully, because your input is crucial in putting this thing to an end. You are going to go on a date that will be the final piece in the puzzle. Then you’ll be free.”

“Yeah… free… right after ruining everything…”

To be continued.

@miraculous-panic @fullbelieverheart @xlatinaaxx @ietss @arfrona

@gracescor3 @jaysgirlx